In this message, Pastor Ben shares about how Immanuel is, and how Jesus is Immanuel and our Saviour.

As it is written in the Gospel of Matthew 1:23, “The virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel,” which means “God with us.”

Emmanuel—God with us. Now, I don’t know about you, but “Emmanuel” isn’t a word I use often in everyday conversation. We don’t stumble across it frequently in our Bibles, preaching, or teaching either. When we hear “Emmanuel,” many of us immediately think of the beautiful Christmas play we just enjoyed. [applause] We picture Bethlehem, still and quiet. We see the peaceful manger scene: hay, lowing cattle, a donkey braying, and a calm, bright stable where, as the song says, “all is calm, all is bright.”

But if we limit our understanding of Emmanuel to just a sweet, meek, mild, and helpless baby in a manger, we’re in deep trouble. There is so much more to the Son conceived by the Virgin Mary through the power of the Holy Spirit. There is far more to this profound truth of “God with us.”

If you’ve been doing your Advent readings, you know this verse—“the virgin shall conceive”—comes from Isaiah 7:14. I don’t know about you, but when I read Isaiah chapter 7, I’ve often felt confused. There’s talk of a king and his kingdom, foreign nations marching toward Jerusalem, and threats of invasion. It seems like far more is happening than just the announcement of a baby’s birth. So how does this passage point to Jesus? It feels like a strange connection.

To understand, let’s circle back to Isaiah 7. The prophet Isaiah—the same one who later writes Isaiah 53 and those glorious words about the coming Messiah as “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace”—stands beside King Ahaz of Judah. Ahaz is about to face invasion. God speaks to Ahaz and tells him to ask for a sign—any sign, as high as heaven or as deep as Sheol.

But Ahaz, who was not a godly king (unlike the King of Kings), refuses. He says, “I will not ask; I will not put the Lord to the test.” In false piety, he declines. So God says, “Very well, I will give you a sign anyway: The virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.”

You might think, “A child born? That happens every day—what’s miraculous about that?” But in that moment of crisis, when the world threatened to destroy Judah and wipe out God’s people, the simple promise of a child’s birth became the sign that God was present—Emmanuel, God with them.

What does this have to do with Jesus’ birth? In Isaiah’s day, God was present with His people—as their judge. The nation had rebelled. They turned to sin, idolatry, and every worldly pleasure instead of trusting their loving Savior. Isaiah 1 paints a stark picture:

“Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth, for the Lord has spoken: Children have I reared and brought up, but they have rebelled against me. The ox knows its owner, and the donkey its master’s crib, but Israel does not know, my people do not understand. Ah, sinful nation, a people laden with iniquity, offspring of evildoers, children who deal corruptly! They have forsaken the Lord, they have despised the Holy One of Israel, they are utterly estranged.”

These words describe the people of Isaiah’s time, but they apply to every human being today. Sin brings death, harm, and destruction to anyone without a Savior. As Romans declares, “None is righteous, no, not one; no one understands; no one seeks for God. All have turned aside; together they have become worthless; no one does good, not even one.”

When the Bible says “all,” it means all—no exceptions. No amount of good deeds, church attendance, or self-confidence can make us righteous. Our best attempts at goodness apart from Christ are like filthy rags, a pile of refuse, or a rotting corpse.

And yes, this is still about Christmas! Why is the child named Jesus? “For he will save his people from their sins.” If God is not your Savior, He remains your judge.

That’s why we need Emmanuel. God is not only a righteous judge but a gracious, compassionate Savior. In the same chapter of Isaiah where He describes sinners as bruised, sore, and wounded, He offers hope:

“Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool.”

Look at the snow outside. Pure, spotless white—covering the fields, rooftops, and roads, hiding every blemish. That’s what God promises: He alone can wash away the deepest stains of sin.

The Lord declares in Ezekiel, “I have no pleasure in the death of anyone… so turn, and live.” To whom shall we turn? Every character in the Christmas story shows us: Mary pondered these things in her heart; Joseph walked faithfully with her; the shepherds responded to the angels and hurried to the manger; the wise men searched the Scriptures and followed the star.

So too can we look to God’s Word and seek Jesus—the one who is fully God and fully man, the true King of Israel, the promised Son of David who rules an everlasting kingdom.

Yet before His ascension, He lived: born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate. He bore our sins—not someone else’s, but ours—in His body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. The wood of the manger points forward to the wood of the cross, where He laid down His life for His enemies, making us friends of God—no longer under wrath, but under grace.

Isaiah 53 (which we often read at Easter) is fitting for Christmas too: “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows… He was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.”

Here is our hope: The child in the manger is the King who went to the cross. Only Christ is the sufficient substitute. Sin demands payment—death—and if you trust in Him, that debt has been paid. He is just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus.

You might look at faithful church members and think, “They’ll get to heaven before me.” But the ground is level at the foot of the cross. We’re all desperate sinners in need of this grace.

So as you leave today, ask yourself: Is God your judge, with sin’s condemnation still upon you? Or will you leave with your burden lifted, joy in your heart, and the assurance that no matter what earthly kingdoms rise and fall, your eternal home is secure?

Your hope is not in what man can give or what you can do, but in the Savior who comes to dwell not only with us but in our hearts.

Will you leave with that hope today? Don’t depart condemned. Leave with the lasting joy, peace, and presence of the risen Savior, Jesus Christ—the Emmanuel we’ve sung about, read about, and celebrated.

Seek Him in His Word. Trust Him fully today.

Let us pray.

Lord, we thank You and praise You that You are God with us. Jesus, You are our Emmanuel, and You desire to dwell in every heart. Let every heart prepare You room, and heaven and nature sing.

As Mary pondered these things, may we ponder them too—not only for the salvation of souls but for the encouragement and building up of every believer who trusts You.

May we abound in these truths this Christmas. Just as the shepherds came to see the marvelous sight, may our families, friends, and neighbors behold the marvelous sight of salvation in our lives.

Father, thank You for sending Your Son—to live, die, and rise for our salvation, that we might know You, find forgiveness, and enjoy Your presence.

May no one leave here under sin’s condemnation, but forgiven and declared righteous in Your sight.

Empty our hearts of what clutters and chokes them. Fill us with more of You, Lord Jesus.

As we prepare to share this meal, may our eating, drinking, and fellowship glorify Your name. Thank You for those who cooked and served.

We pray this in Jesus’ name. Amen.

All right.