Logos and Legend: How Faith Rewrote Jesus

When we speak of “Jesus,” are we invoking a man of first-century Judea or a cosmic figure constructed by centuries of faith? From dusty Galilean roads to the transcendent halls of Hellenistic philosophy, the Jesus character has been written and rewritten by faith traditions seeking to reconcile ancient mythos with new messianic hope.

In this blog post, we’ll peel back the layers of logos and legend, following how the faith of early Christian communities; guided by mystery cult motifs, Platonic metaphysics, and prophetic reinterpretation; recast a certain figure from rebel preacher to incarnate Word (Logos).

The Birth of a Mythical Messiah

The historian Maurice Goguel (1926) argued that the first-century Jesus, if he existed historically, was quickly enmeshed within a web of nonhistorical embellishments. Early Christian eschatology, desperate for a vindicated messiah figure after Rome crushed Jewish uprisings, likely spiritualized Jesus' death and imagined his resurrection. The resurrection belief, according to Goguel, "arose as the fulfilment of prophecy discovered after the fact" (p. 290), transforming a failed movement into a mythic faith.

This pattern wasn’t new. Hellenistic cultures were familiar with dying-and-rising gods, mystery cults offering symbolic death and rebirth through ritual. Christian theory, in this reading, borrowed these narrative forms to give cosmic significance to their messiah. The faith communities weren’t so much preserving history as crafting a sacred legend to meet spiritual and political needs.

Enter the Logos

No thinker better captures the philosophical atmosphere surrounding early Christianity than Philo of Alexandria, a Hellenistic Jew whose writing predates the New Testament. Philo envisioned a cosmic mediator figure, the Logos, as "the eldest of the powers of God" (Philo, On the Confusion of Tongues, sec. 28), an immaterial agent through whom the divine interacted with the material world.

The parallels to the Gospel of John are striking. In John's prologue, "In the beginning was the Word (Logos), and the Word was with God, and the Word was God" (John 1:1), we see Hellenistic metaphysics grafted onto Jewish messianism. Philo’s Logos concept provided early Christians a ready-made philosophical framework to elevate the Jesus character from an executed Galilean preacher to a cosmic, preexistent Logos incarnate.

This philosophical evolution wasn’t incidental. It reflected a broader tendency in Second Temple Judaism to allegorize and universalize national traditions within the Greco-Roman world’s philosophical idioms; a process Goguel identified as “prophetic exegesis reinterpreting facts as symbols” (1926, p. 203).

Faith Before Fact: The Case for a Legendary Jesus

George Albert Wells (1999) takes the argument further, contending that the earliest Christian texts — particularly Paul’s epistles — lack biographical details of Jesus. Instead, Paul speaks of a celestial figure revealed through scripture and personal visions. Wells argues this points to a mythical, not historical, origin: "The gospels’ Jesus is the result of a layered history of imaginative embellishments" (p. xviii).

According to Wells, the first believers experienced the Christ figure within the symbolic landscape of their scriptures and cosmology, not as a contemporary flesh-and-blood teacher. Only later did the legend localize Jesus in Galilee and Jerusalem to ground the myth in an historical frame, much as Romulus and Remus or Osiris once were.

From Myth to History…and Back Again

What, then, was "rewritten"? Early faith communities reinterpreted the memory of Jesus in light of Hellenistic philosophy, Jewish messianic expectation, and communal trauma. The historical person, if he existed, was submerged beneath layers of cosmic symbolism, prophetic fulfillment, and mystical allegory.

As Philo blurred the line between myth and metaphysics with his Logos, early Christians did the same with Jesus. Goguel (1926) concludes, "Faith created the Christ of the gospels" (p. 305) — not the other way around.

Today, debates about the historical Jesus miss the absolute point: religious traditions often rewrite their founders to meet new needs; fusing logos and legend into enduring myth to create Jesus is nothing new. Ignoring the fact that the Jesus character founded no church or religion himself, this fact, concerning Christian theory, remains in-tact.

Final Thought?

The making of Jesus as Logos wasn’t an accident of history but a strategy of meaning. In a fragmented empire teeming with mystery religions, wisdom cults, and apocalyptic movements, Christianity’s genius lay in reworking faith’s raw material — myth, philosophy, prophecy — into a compelling narrative of cosmic redemption.

And in doing so, faith didn’t just record history; it rewrote it.

References

Goguel, M. (1926). Jesus the Nazarene: Myth or History? D. Appleton and Company.

Philo of Alexandria. (n.d.). The Complete Works of Philo: Complete and Unabridged (C. D. Yonge, Trans.).

Wells, G. A. (1999). The Jesus Myth. Open Court.

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

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.

Why Paul’s Christ and the Gospel Jesus Cannot Be Reconciled

The New Testament presents readers with two strikingly distinct portrayals of the Jesus character. On the one hand, the Paul character offers us a cosmic Christ—an eternal, preexistent divine figure, the agent of creation and redemption for all humanity. On the other hand, the Gospels; particularly the Synoptics; paint a picture of a Jewish prophet, a moral Rabbi embedded in the matrix of first-century Judaism, who heals, teaches, and proclaims the imminent “kingdom of God.” These representations are not just different perspectives; they are radically divergent theological constructs.

The question at the heart of Christian theory thus arises: Can Paul’s cosmic Christ and the Jesus character of the Gospels be reconciled? Should we actually look at the New Testament text, the answer appears to be a resolute no.

Paul’s Cosmic Christ: Beyond History and Flesh

Paul’s letters, particularly Colossians 1:13–20, present his Christ as the agent of creation and the sustainer of all things. In this view, his Christ is not merely a moral teacher, but the very Logos, the rational, divine principle that orders the Greek universe. Paul’s Christ is "before all things" and in him "all things hold together" (Col. 1:17). This Cosmic Christ is not merely divine in function but in essence: he is the full embodiment of Deity, through whom the reconciliation of all things, both heavenly and earthly, is achieved by blood on his cross​.

Ebenezer Fai (2022) highlights that Paul’s emphasis in Colossians emerges not from biographical reflection on a historical man named “Jesus,” but from a theological need to combat Gnostic heresies and affirm cosmic supremacy​. Paul’s Jesus is a being whose existence precedes the incarnation, whose work of salvation is only metaphysical, and whose authority is cosmic, universal, and eternal.

The Gospel Jesus: The Scripted Rabbi

In contrast, the Gospels; especially the Synoptics; do not concern themselves with cosmic metaphysics. They present a man situated in a specific cultural and religious context. The Jesus character is of or from Nazareth, a Galilean Jew, engaging with Pharisees, healing lepers, and preaching the ethical imperatives of love, forgiveness, and justice.

Whereas Paul emphasizes the Jesus character’s crucifixion and resurrection as a metaphysical event, the Gospels center on Jesus’ life: his teachings, parables, compassion, and confrontation with religious authorities. This version of Jesus observes Jewish law (albeit sometimes critically), engages with the marginalized, and rarely speaks of himself in cosmic or divine terms. His favorite self-designation, "Son of Man," evokes prophetic imagery of him as a supporter of a remote mythological figure rather than ontological divinity.

The Jesus of the Gospels is particular, for he is bound to the socio-political and religious fabric of Second Temple Judaism. Paul’s Christ, on the other hand, is universal, being a cosmic archetype more reminiscent of a Hellenistic deity than Hebrew prophet.

Philosophical Disparity: Logos vs. Narrative

Philosophically, these two Christ characters appeal to different metaphysical traditions. Paul's Christ emerges from a Platonic schema, aligning with the Logos doctrine who is, in Greek and Hellenistic Judaism’s literature, a preexistent Word mediating between the transcendent God and material creation. This idea would later crystallize in Johannine theology and be formalized in Neoplatonic Christianity, as seen in the works of Augustine and Origen.

In contrast, the Gospel Jesus reflects more of an Aristotelian and ethical tradition, in that he is concerned with praxis, not metaphysics. His parables are moral, his miracles restorative, his teachings embedded in community life which, to the audience, forces a link between notable figures like Elijah and Elisha. His “kingdom” is both near and ethical, not cosmic and absolute.

Gnosticism and the Veiled Christ

Murphy (2011) adds a fascinating layer to this tension, revealing that Paul’s theology fits neatly into the framework of a mystery religion, where his Christ is a symbolic figure guiding initiates into spiritual transformation, not a biographical teacher from Galilee​. Paul’s Christ speaks to inner divinity and mystical rebirth: “We died with Christ... and now our life is hidden with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:3). The supposed Jesus of history is deliberately obscured, even discarded, in favor of a higher, esoteric truth​.

This idea is not foreign to early Christianity. The Gnostic gospels present the Jesus character not as a crucified savior but a revealer of hidden knowledge (gnosis). Gnostic communities viewed the Christ character as an immaterial guide to enlightenment rather than a sacrificial lamb​. This really aligns with Paul’s mystical language and esoteric symbolism.

The Church's Solution: Synthetic Christology

The early Church, recognizing this rift, sought to synthesize the two through creeds and councils. The Council of Nicaea (325 CE) and Chalcedon (451 CE) declared Christ to be fully God and fully man, attempting to harmonize Paul's Logos Christ with the Gospel's version of the Jesus character. But such reconciliation was dogmatic, not organic.

As Murphy (2011) argues, these decisions were less about theological integrity and more about institutional control. The Gospel Jesus, with his ethical teachings and radical inclusivity, was threatening to a budding ecclesiastical hierarchy. The cosmic Christ, distant and abstract, was more malleable and less politically dangerous​.

A Disunion That Challenges Christianity

Theologically, Paul’s Christ and the Gospel Jesus are not just different interpretations of the same figure; they are different figures. One is an eternal metaphysical being; the other is a figure scripted to appear as a human prophet. One is rooted in Hellenistic mysticism; the other in Jewish ethics. One speaks of justification through faith; the other of righteousness through love and mercy.

Thus, the union is impossible, and not for lack of trying, but because the two are fundamentally irreconcilable. Christianity has survived by layering these incompatible Christ characters into one synthetic narrative. Yet this synthesis (if we would just look at the New Testament text) strains under the weight of its contradictions, as evidenced by modern theological fractures between evangelical, mystical, liberal, and historical-critical Christianities.

To ask whether Christianity is about belief in Paul’s cosmic Christ or following the Gospel Jesus is not merely a theological question, but something actually challenging the rationale of the individual asking the question. As we move further into the 21st century, perhaps it's time to stop forcing a reconciliation and start telling the truth: Christianity was always a tale of two Jesuses.

 Resources:

Fai, E., Merrill C. Tenney, Mark Allan Powel, Carson, D. A., Dunnett, W. M., McCain, D., Gundry, R., Keener, C. S., Hendricksen, W., Falwell, J., Brown, R. E., Akintola, S. O., & Guthrie, D. (2022). The Cosmic Christ: An Exegesis of Colossians 1:13-20 and its implications for the Twenty-First Century Church. In The American Journal of Biblical Theology (Vol. 23, Issue 33).

Loubser, J. A. (1993). Orality and Pauline ‘Christology’: Some Hermeneutical Implications. Scriptura: Journal for Biblical, Theological and Contextual Hermeneutics, 47, 25-51. 

Murphy, D. (2011). Jesus Potter Harry Christ. Holyblasphemy press