I was invited onto a call recently and noticed a familiar name, a well-known Christian songwriter. At the time, I didn’t give it much thought. Over the years, I’ve worked with and filmed many people who are well known in their fields, so it didn’t register as anything unusual. But later in the day, I found myself reflecting on it in a different way.
It made me consider how easily we recognise status and significance in people the world esteems, often without realising we are doing it. That led me to a harder question. If I can instinctively acknowledge the presence of someone considered important in worldly terms, how much more should my life reflect reverence for Jesus, the One before whom every knee will bow?
That question stayed with me and wouldn’t let go, not because it was emotional or dramatic, but because it exposed something uncomfortable.
I began to see how easily I treat the name of Jesus as familiar rather than holy. I can sing worship songs that speak about His power and holiness, and then later sit through films or programmes where His name is mocked or used casually, without feeling much resistance in my spirit. I can hear dialogue that undermines everything I claim to believe and yet remain largely unaffected. When I’m honest with myself, that realisation is confronting.
I’m starting to understand that reverence is not demonstrated by what we sing on a Sunday, but by the decisions we make in ordinary, private moments. If the name of Jesus is genuinely precious to me, then it must shape what I’m willing to consume, tolerate, and laugh along with. Otherwise, my reverence remains theoretical rather than lived.
“Be holy, because I am holy.”
1 Peter 1:16 (NIV)
Some time ago, I made the decision to stop listening to non-Christian music, at least as far as I can control. Even that decision is now being tested and refined. This is not simply about lyrics or genre. It is about the environment I place myself in and the things I allow repeated access to my heart and mind. Familiarity can erode reverence if we’re not attentive. What we tolerate repeatedly can eventually stop registering as significant.
“Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.”
Proverbs 4:23 (NIV)
At this stage, I find myself living with a genuine tension. I work in a creative world and I love storytelling, art, music, and film. These things matter to me. But I also know that creativity does not automatically equate to purity, and cleverness does not mean something is spiritually safe. Discernment requires restraint, and restraint is rarely comfortable.
The name of Jesus is not a casual word to be used without thought. It is the name through which salvation came. It is the name associated with healing, redemption, and authority. Scripture tells us plainly that heaven recognises it, and the spiritual realm responds to it.
“Therefore, God exalted Him to the highest place and gave Him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow…”
Philippians 2:9–10 (NIV)
That forces me to ask questions I would sometimes prefer to avoid. Do I honour Jesus with the same seriousness that heaven does? If Jesus were physically present beside me, would I still be comfortable with everything I choose to watch or listen to?
This is not an argument for legalism. It is an examination of love. When we genuinely love someone, we care about how their name is spoken. We don’t dismiss disrespect as harmless, and we don’t excuse it simply because it has become culturally normal.
I believe the Holy Spirit is patiently doing a work in me, restoring a sense of awe that had slowly eroded without me noticing. I’m learning again that holiness is not outdated and purity is not naïve. To love Jesus is to take responsibility for how His name is treated, not only in public declarations, but in the unnoticed corners of everyday life.
“Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Your sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer.”
Psalm 19:14 (NKJV)
So this is where I am. Still wrestling and learning what it means to carry the name of Jesus with integrity in a culture that treats it cheaply. And still praying that my life, not just my language, reflects how precious His name truly is.
A Thought for Us
You may recognise some of this tension in yourself. You may sense a growing discomfort with what you’ve allowed to become normal, or a realisation that your reverence has dulled over time rather than disappeared all at once.
It’s worth asking the Holy Spirit to show you where your perspective has shifted and to restore a right regard for the name of Jesus. This is not only an individual issue. It shapes the Church collectively.
When the Church treats the name of Jesus as holy, with seriousness and genuine honour, the world notices. Reverence begins within the people who claim His name, and through that witness, the world is shown who Jesus truly is.
