gospel of John — Linwood Jackson Jr Linwood Jackson Jr Blog

The figure of Jesus stands at the heart of Christianity, yet his identity sparks endless debate: Is he the historical Hebrew minister who walked the dusty roads of first-century Palestine, or the cosmic Christ of Faith, exalted in the confessions of the Church? This tension; between a Jesus of history and a Christ of faith; has fueled centuries of scholarship, theological reflection, and spiritual inquiry. Can these two figures (for the sake of Christianity’s continuance and survival) be meaningfully separated, or are they inextricably intertwined? Drawing on some insights (Anderson, 2013; Collins, n.d.; Samuels, n.d.; Wright, 1996), this blog post explores this interesting question, inviting you to also ponder the historical, theological, and philosophical implications of the Jesus character’s dual identity.

The Historical Jesus

The quest for the historical Jesus seeks to uncover the possible man behind the myth—a figure grounded in the cultural, religious, and political realities of first-century Hellenistic Judaism. Scholars like E.P. Sanders and N.T. Wright emphasize Jesus as an eschatological prophet proclaiming the imminent arrival of God’s kingdom (Sanders, 1995, as cited in Samuels, n.d.; Wright, 1996). Far from a timeless moral teacher, Jesus was a Galilean Hebrew (Galilee is in the land of Naphtali) who challenged the Roman occupation and Jewish religious establishment with a message of radical renewal. The actions of his ministry—calling disciples, enlightening people and doctrinally challenging the Sanhedrin, and overturning tables in the Temple—marked him as a charismatic leader, a “sage” with social and political implications (Borg, as cited in Samuels, n.d.).

Adela Yarbro Collins highlights Jesus’ distinctiveness even among other prophets like John the Baptist. Unlike John’s ascetic rigor, Jesus embraced table fellowship, symbolizing his God’s inclusive love and joy (Collins, n.d.). His teachings, rooted in Hebrew Scripture, carried an unprecedented authority, leading some to see him as the Messiah during his lifetime. Yet, his crucifixion—a brutal Roman execution—challenged messianic expectations, forcing followers to reinterpret his death as part of a divine plan (Collins, n.d.).

This historical Jesus is vivid, human, and deeply Hebrew. But can he be isolated from the Greek theological figure who emerged in the wake of his death?

The Christ of Faith

The Christ of Faith is the exalted figure of Christian confession, celebrated in the Pauline epistles, Johannine theology, and church doctrine. This Christ is not scripted as being merely a historical preacher but the cosmic savior, the “second name for Jesus” in Paul’s writings, embodying salvation for the church (Kärkkäinen, as cited in Samuels, n.d.). The Gospel of John, with its high Christology, presents the Jesus character as the manifested Greek Logos, the Word (Greek Logos) made flesh, distinct from the Synoptic Gospels’ focus on his humanity (Anderson, 2013).

For theologians like Pannenberg, Christology is about grounding the church’s confession in the historical activity of Jesus, yet it transcends history (Pannenberg, as cited in Samuels, n.d.). The Christ of Faith is confessed as risen, exalted, and returning—a figure woven into the nature of Christian worship, theory, and belief. This theological construct, shaped by post-resurrection experiences and Hellenistic influences, elevates the Jesus character beyond his Hebrew or Jewish context into a universal savior.

But does this elevation erase the historical Jesus, or does it depend on him?

The Tension: Can History and Faith Be Divided?

The debate over separating the Jesus of history from the Christ of Faith is not ultimately academic—it’s a philosophical and spiritual crossroads. Individuals like David Friedrich Strauss argued for a stark divide, dismissing miracles as mythological expressions of messianic belief rather than historical events (Collins, n.d.). Strauss’ naturalistic approach sought to strip away theology to reveal a purely human Jesus, a view echoed by John Dominic Crossan, who portrays Jesus as a non-apocalyptic sage akin to a Cynic philosopher (Wright, 1996).

Yet, this dichotomy is problematic. Paul N. Anderson challenges Strauss’ rigid separation, arguing that history and theology are “inextricably entwined” (Anderson, 2013, p. 81). The Gospel of John (despite its manuscript being heavily re-written by various authors), often dismissed as purely theological, contains more mundane and archaeologically verified details (not about the Jesus character) than the Synoptics, suggesting a historical core beneath its theological veneer (Anderson, 2013). Similarly, N.T. Wright rejects the divide, proposing that Jesus’ historical actions—his Temple critique, table fellowship, and self-understanding as a messianic figure—form the foundation for early Christian theology (Wright, 1996). For Wright, linking the resurrection to the Jesus character is the pivotal event: without it, Jesus’ movement would have fizzled like other failed messianic campaigns (Wright, 1996).

The Synoptic Gospels, too, blur the line. While they seek to emphasize Jesus’ humanity, their portrayal of him as a prophet and miracle-worker carries theological weight (Samuels, n.d.). Even the historical Jesus’ apocalyptic worldview, which modern academics downplay, was inherently theological, expressing hope in his God’s intervention (Collins, n.d.). As Anderson notes, “insignificant historicity is a contradiction of terms” (Anderson, 2013, p. 77). Events are remembered because they matter, and their significance is inherently subjective.

The Interplay of Memory and Meaning

Philosophically, the question of separating the Jesus of history from the Christ of Faith touches on the nature of memory, truth, and identity. History is not a sterile collection of facts but a narrative shaped by those who remember, and also by those that have the power to manipulate what others should remember. The early Christians’ belief in Jesus’ resurrection transformed their memory of him, not by erasing his historical reality but by infusing it with cosmic significance (Wright, 1996). As Borg suggests, the Gospels use metaphorical language to convey the Jesus character’s meaning, not just his actions (Samuels, n.d.).

This challenges us to consider: Can we know Jesus without faith, or does faith illuminate his history? For individuals like Vermes and Fredriksen, Jesus’ Jewishness is the key to his historical identity, grounding him in a specific cultural context (Samuels, n.d.). Yet, the Christ of Faith transcends this context, speaking to universal human longings for redemption and justice. The two are not mutually exclusive but dialectical, each informing the other.

Why It Matters

The debate over the historical Jesus and the Christ of Faith is more than an academic exercise—it’s a question of how we encounter “Jesus” today. For believers, the Christ of Faith offers a living presence, rooted in an embellishment of the historical Jesus’ life and death (there was no resurrection). For skeptics, the historical Jesus provides a tangible figure, free from dogmatic overlays. Both perspectives enrich our understanding, but neither fully captures the mystery of both the invented historical and mythological identity of the Jesus character identity.

As Wright argues, the historical Jesus’ radical vocation redefines our concept of “God” itself (Wright, 1996). This challenges comfortable orthodoxies and secular assumptions alike. Similarly, Collins’ call to interpret Jesus’ apocalyptic language metaphorically invites us to see his message as addressing timeless human desires for freedom and justice (Collins, n.d.). This was not a dying and rising demigod, but an individual that understood the Hebrew Scriptures in a way where his intellect was becoming counterintuitive to the Sanhedrin’s agenda.

An Inseparable Unity?

SO, can the historical Jesus and the cosmic Christ of Faith, for the sake of Christian theory’s survival, be separated? The evidence suggests not. The historical Jesus, a Hebrew prophet educating on the incoming presence of the “kingdom of God” (Rome) and the inward movement of the kingdom of God (a dispensation of understanding), is the foundation for the mythological Christ of Faith, whose cosmic significance Christian theologians have transformed over the centuries. While individuals like Strauss and Crossan seek to peel away theology, and others like Anderson and Wright insist on their unity, the truth lies in the tension. This is all for the sake of Christian theory, which needs an apparently concrete figure to make their belief appear credible. But seeing as how the historical minister was not a Christian walking around calling himself “Christ” or “Son of Man,” the man himself would not actually need his Greek myth to get his point across. Surely all of this encourages us to continue to wrestle with the paradox of history and faith.

References

Anderson, P. N. (2013). The Jesus of history, the Christ of faith, and the Gospel of John. In The Gospels: History and Christology: The Search of Joseph Ratzinger—Benedict XVI (Vol. 2, pp. 63–81). Libreria Editrice Vaticana.

Collins, A. Y. (n.d.). The historical Jesus: Then and now.

Samuels, P.-P. (n.d.). A critical analysis of the Jesus of history vs. the Christ of faith debate.

Wright, N. T. (1996). The historical Jesus and Christian theology. Sewanee Theological Review, 39.

The idea of a divine mediator—a figure who bridges the gap between God and humanity or between cosmic elements like the sky and earth—has been a cornerstone of spirituality across cultures. From the ancient Egyptian god Shu to the Greek Logos and finally to Jesus Christ in Christianity, this archetype evolves but retains its essence. In this post, we explore how Shu and the Logos fulfill similar roles as divine mediators, tracing their philosophical and theological connections and uncovering Egypt's ultimate influence on Christianity.

What is the Logos?

In Greek philosophy, the Logos (“Word” or “Reason”) is the rational principle that orders the cosmos and connects divine thought to the material world. First introduced by Heraclitus, the Logos was later refined by Stoic philosophers and the Hellenistic tradition. It represents harmony and mediation between extremes, such as unity and multiplicity. Early Christians adopted this concept, most notably in the Gospel of John, where Jesus is described as the Logos: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1).

As the Logos, Jesus is scripted as being more than a teacher or prophet. He embodies divine wisdom and serves as the ultimate bridge between “God” and “humanity,” revealing the spiritual “truth” that underlie the universe.

Shu: The Firstborn Son and Cosmic Mediator of Ancient Egypt

Long before the Logos entered philosophical discourse, the ancient Egyptian god Shu held a strikingly similar role. Shu, the firstborn son of the creator god Atum, is the mediator who separates Nut (the sky) from Geb (the earth). This act of separation creates space for life to flourish, making Shu essential to cosmic order.

According to the Pyramid Texts, Shu embodies the essence (kA) of Atum. He is both the divine extension of his father and the force that sustains harmony in creation. Shu’s creation is steeped in symbolic language; Atum “sneezed” Shu into existence, imbuing him with divine life. This imagery underscores Shu’s intimate connection to his father’s creative power, much like the Logos emanates directly from God.

How Shu and the Logos Compare: The Role of the Divine Son

Both Shu and the Logos fulfill the archetype of the divine mediator, sharing remarkable parallels:

Sonship: Shu is the firstborn of Atum, while the Logos is described as the “only begotten Son” of God in Christian theology.
Mediation: Shu separates and connects the sky and earth, maintaining cosmic balance. The Logos mediates between God and humanity, bringing divine order to the world.
Essence: Shu embodies the kA, or essence, of Atum. Similarly, the Logos is the “Word” of God, embodying divine wisdom and will.
Creation and Sustenance: Both figures are integral to the act of creation and its ongoing maintenance. Shu sustains the physical cosmos, while the Logos sustains the spiritual and moral order.

From Shu to the Logos to Jesus: The Origins of the Divine Mediator

The transition from Shu to the Logos highlights how ancient Egyptian theology influenced Greek and early Christian thought. Hellenistic Alexandria, a cultural melting pot, facilitated the synthesis of Egyptian cosmogonies with Greek metaphysical ideas. The result was a more abstract concept of divine mediation that early Christians incorporated into their theology.

Jesus’ identification as the Logos in the Gospel of John echoes Shu’s role in Egyptian mythology. Just as Shu’s essence (kA) flows from Atum, Jesus, as the Logos, proceeds from the Father. Both figures symbolize a “divine” presence that connects heaven and earth, ensuring harmony and balance.

Egypt’s Influence on Christianity and the Logos Concept

The influence of Egyptian thought on Christianity is often overlooked, but its significance is undeniable. Heliopolitan cosmology, with its emphasis on divine mediation, provided a framework that later informed Greek philosophy and, ultimately, Christian theology. The parallels between Shu and the Logos suggest a shared archetype that transcends cultural boundaries, reflecting humanity’s universal quest to understand the supposedly divine.

In adopting the Logos concept, early Christians drew upon an already existing heritage of philosophical and theological ideas. The Logos—as scripted within Jesus Christ—represents a culmination of these traditions, uniting Egyptian, Greek, and Jewish influences into a single, transformative character.

A Universal Archetype of Divine Mediation

Shu and the Logos reveal a shared vision of the divine mediator across cultures. From Shu’s cosmic embrace to Jesus’ incarnation as the Logos, these characters embody humanity’s desire to bridge the gap between the earthly and what is thought to be divine. Their stories remind us that the quest for connection and harmony is as old as civilization itself, or is as the Preacher says, “There’s nothing new under the sun” (Ecclesiastes 1:9).

References

Popielska-Grzybowska, J. (2013). Atum and Son: Some Remarks on Egyptian Concept of Eternity. Études et Travaux, 26, 537-546.

Fideler, D. (1993). Jesus Christ, Sun of God: Ancient Cosmology and Early Christian Symbolism. Quest Books.

The Historical Jesus vs. the Christ of Faith: Can They Be Separated?