As we prepare for the birth of Jesus Christ, we experience a glimpse of the divine. The language we use carries memory and mystery. This reflection explores how the God of many names will draw near to heal, dwell, and bless once again.

“Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.” Isaiah 7:14
In a season of longing and light, we are invited to name God not by tradition alone, but by encounter. As we prepare for the birth of his Son, Jesus Christ, in that encounter we experience a glimpse of the divine. For many, the language we use for the divine carries memory and mystery. This reflection explores how the God of many names will draw near to heal, dwell, and bless once again.
I often sit at Mass during the Eucharistic Prayer and hear the words, “You never cease to gather a people to Yourself.” These liturgical words, gifted to us by the Church and echoed in both Catholic and Reformed traditions, speak to the heart of the Christian faith. They reveal God’s longing to gather, bless, and dwell among His people. Early in Scripture, God tells His people: “In every place where I cause my name to be remembered I will come to you and bless you” (Exodus 20:24). In Jeremiah, we hear: “I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you” (Jeremiah 31:3). And in John’s Gospel, we learn that if we long to meet the living God in the person of Jesus, He will send His Holy Spirit—to dwell in our hearts. Through this mutual indwelling, we are led into all truth, and “you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:32).
Yet for many, especially those whose early relationships with fathers were distant—or whose marriages and sexual experiences have left them wounded by men who abused power—the name “Father” evokes a difficult image. It may feel alien, even painful, and in no sense reflect the God who longs to inscribe deep Shalom upon our hearts: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid” (John 14:27). I once spoke to a woman who had lost her father. She told me she could not give herself wholeheartedly to her heavenly Father, because her earthly father had been so good to her—and she feared it would tarnish his memory. Her honesty revealed something sacred: that naming God is not merely theological, but deeply personal. It touches memory, longing, and grief.
For these reasons, let us journey with Jesus back to the authentic sound of evoking the divine. Let us hear His words afresh this Advent. In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus invites us to pray to Abba; a word spoken in Aramaic, intimate and tender, meaning “Papa” or “Dear One.” “Abba, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come” (Luke 11:2). It draws us away from distorted portrayals and toward the God known by Jesus—the One we encounter through the Holy Spirit.
The God who is Abba longs to meet you with intimacy and tenderness, to heal your brokenness, to sit with you in pain, and to contend with you in suffering. Like Jesus on the road to Emmaus, Abba draws alongside you, walks with you, and whispers that you are beloved. The words spoken to Jesus: “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased” (Mark 1:11)—are a gift to you as well. And so are the words of Isaiah: “I have called you by name, you are mine” (Isaiah 43:1). This is the God of many names. And this Advent, Emmanuel—God with Us—comes not to impose a title, but to offer presence. And so we come to Advent—not merely as a season of candles and carols, but as a sacred invitation to reimagine how we name and know God. Emmanuel does not demand perfect theology or unblemished memory. He comes gently, as a child, into the fragile rooms of our hearts.
For those whose experience of “father” is marked by absence, betrayal, or grief, Emmanuel does not insist on a title that wounds. Instead, He whispers the name that He Himself used—Abba. Not a distant patriarch, but a presence of tenderness that embraces the maternal dimension of the divine. Not a judge behind the veil, but a companion in the garden. Abba is the God who walks with us in the cool of the day. The One who kneels beside us in Gethsemane (Mark 14:36), who weeps at gravesides, who breaks bread with us on the road to Emmaus. Abba is not a concept to be grasped, but a presence to be received.
Our God is the God of many names. El Shaddai—God Almighty—who appeared to Abraham and said, “I am God Almighty; walk before me, and be blameless” (Genesis 17:1). Ruach—the Spirit of God—who hovered over the waters at creation: “And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters” (Genesis 1:2). The Spirit who is feminine in the Hebrew, neutral in the Greek and male in the Latin. Adonai—the Lord and Master—to whom Abram cried, “O Lord God, what will you give me, for I continue childless…” (Genesis 15:2). Abba—the One who stays, who speaks through the Spirit of adoption: “God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, ‘Abba! Father!’” (Galatians 4:6). And Emmanuel—God with Us—not just in liturgy, but in longing and life!
So let us welcome Emmanuel—not with certainty, but with surrender. Not with perfect words, but with open hearts. Let us name God not by tradition alone, but by encounter. Let us say Abba—not because we must, but because we may. For the God of many names is not waiting to be understood but longing to be received, speaking through tears and tenderness, dwelling in the ache and joy, and whispering still: “You are mine, the Beloved.”
This Advent, may Emmanuel come not just to the manger, but to the memory, the wound, the longing. May we be drawn—ever drawn—into the heart of God, who gathers, blesses, and dwells among us. This reflection is offered to all those who struggle to name God, and in that struggle, pray Ma-ra-na-tha: Come, Lord. Come… and indeed Emmanuel, God tenderly with us, will come… .
James Gordon Reid Haveloch-Jones is a British educator, mentor, and author of The Gold Standard: Coaching for Excellence. Available to buy here: Gold Standard Coaching for Excellence.
His work spans elite institutions and grassroots outreach, blending ceremonial experience — from Westminster Abbey to global musical venues — with transformative coaching. Discover more at www.jamesgordonreid.co.uk and www.premierchristianity.com/james-gordon-reid-haveloch-jones/2988.bio featured in https://www.royalholloway.ac.uk/about-us/our-alumni/for-alumni/alumni-news/introducing-the-gold-standard-a-new-book-by-a-royal-holloway-alumnus/