Do JWs believe Jesus is an angel?

by slimboyfat 152 Replies latest watchtower beliefs

  • aqwsed12345
    aqwsed12345

    @peacefulpete

    What I resist the most is the silly, Hislopian approach that automatically creates geneology from analogy. The fact that one concept resembles another does not mean that it originates from the other.

    Alexander Hislop's methodology involves drawing superficial parallels between Catholic practices and ancient pagan rituals. Whenever there is even a minor similarity, he concludes that the Catholic practice is pagan in origin. This approach falls prey to the genetic fallacy, which mistakenly assumes that the origin of an idea determines its current validity.

    For example, Hislop equates the Catholic practice of using round communion wafers with the sun-worship of ancient Egypt, solely based on the round shape of both objects. The fallacy of correlation = causation undermines Hislop's argument. He asserts that because pagan cultures practiced something similar to Christian rites, the Christian practices must have originated from paganism. This assumption fails to acknowledge the possibility of independent development

    This is what happens here too, some researcher outlines a similarity and then assumes without any concrete evidence that one concept is an adaptation of another. Well, this is fine for a conspiracy theorist with a tin foil hat, but we would expect more from a researcher.

    Here, too, what evidence was presented that this concept specifically influenced, or even caused, the Christology of the New Testament or the early church? Nothing. A similitude was drawn, the end result having to engage itself in the reader's brain.

    This approach is simply primitive and frivolous, not to mention it ignores what Justin Martyr already knew, see logos spermatikos.

  • slimboyfat
    slimboyfat
    What slimboy seems resistant to is the idea that the second power theology, to use as a shorthand label, included concepts like "Glory" and "presence/ Shekinah of God. There is no actual second person intended but a word/title served as agency in human and earthly affairs. It/he/she was a stand-in for God.

    Some terms were used as a way of speaking of the activity of God himself. This is true of the holy spirit, for example. The point is that when Wisdom, or God’s glory, or the Logos did become a person in the tradition, then in Judaism and in early Christianity that person is consistently distinct and subordinate to God - as God’s first creation, the archangel, the principal angel, Michael, servant, and so on. This is the case in gospel of John where the Logos becomes flesh, (1.14) and that person is the servant of God who does God’s will, not his own, describing his Father as “the only true God”. (John 17.3) Only in the fourth century was the ‘second god’ put on a level with God himself by Christians who moved beyond the early teaching about Jesus, thus overturning the earlier teaching. When Jesus was defending his own divine sonship, in John chapter 10, the justification he pointed to was a text in the Psalms which shows that beings other than God can be described as divine. James McGrath has this to say about the context and implications of the argument in that passage:

    Thus far in this book, I have compared the Gospel of John with other non-Christian Jewish texts from around the same time. It would perhaps be instructive to compare that Gospel to later Jewish–Christian texts as well. Many sources bear witness to the continued existence of groups such as the Ebionites, which retained their Jewish identity and were largely regarded as heretical by the now predominantly Gentle church. One reason they were able to retain their identity as Jewish Christians was precisely because their Christology remained subordinationist. How do these later Jewish-Christian texts compare to John's depiction of Jesus? First, under the present heading, we note the explanation that one such source, the Pseudo-Clementine Recognitions (2:42), gives regarding the wider use of the title "God": "Therefore the name God is applied in three ways: either because he to whom it is given is truly God, or because he is the servant of him who is truly; and for the honor of the sender, that his authority may be full, he that is sent is called by the name of him who sends." In John 10, when Jesus is depicted as defending himself against the accusation of making himself God, it is to the wider use of the designation "gods" that appeal is made. This argument in John must surely be allowed to inform our interpretation of what "God" means in reference to Christ in 20:28. Like later Jewish Christians, the author as the Fourth Gospel can call Jesus “God” and yet still refer to the Father as "the only true God" (17:3). In many respects, the language of these later Jewish-Christian writings resembles that of the Gospel of John more closely than that of any other New Testament writing. To quote Recognitions 2:48, these later Jewish Christians believed that "the Son... has been with the Father from the beginning, through all generations." The group that produced this literature remained alienated from mainstream Judaism because of their belief that Jesus was the Messiah, but their allegiance to only one God was not questioned as far as can be ascertained. They were regarded as heretical by other Christians, however, because of their attempt to preserve their own Jewish identity and because they remained emphatically subordinationist and monotheistic in their Christology rather than assenting to the doctrine of the Trinity as defined by the Council of Nicaea. Within a Jewish-Christian context even in later centuries, then, it was possible to maintain one's allegiance to the one true God and at the same time use language very similar to that found in the Gospel of John. The evidence surveyed in this chapter suggests that this may have been equally true, if not indeed more so, in the time when this Gospel was written.

    James McGrath, The Only True God: Early Christian Monotheism in Its Jewish Context (2009), pages67 and 68.

  • peacefulpete
    peacefulpete
    What I resist the most is the silly, Hislopian approach that automatically creates genealogy from analogy. The fact that one concept resembles another does not mean that it originates from the other.

    There is nothing 'Hislopian' about analysis of late second temple Judaism and their interpretation of their texts. This was the soil in which Christianity sprouted. The same culture, the same time, the same texts used in many cases the same way.

    Some terms were used as a way of speaking of the activity of God himself....The point is that when Wisdom, or God’s glory, or the Logos did become a person in the tradition, then in Judaism and in early Christianity that person is consistently distinct and subordinate to God .......Only in the fourth century was the ‘second god’ put on a level with God himself by Christians who moved beyond the early teaching about Jesus, thus overturning the earlier teaching. ...

    Emanations of God are precisely both God himself and subservient to God.

    The Holy spirit has a voice and will in certain passages, yet it is understood he/she is sent by God. Christ is described identically. The Gospel story has Jesus identify as Wisdom and Word. The lines get blurred.

    It gets easier to see when you read the Gospel as a theological text not historical. Whether you understand a historical person at the center or not, the texts were written and freely adjusted with a message in mind. Not documentation.

    The Trinity doctrine is both sophisticated and naive. It is an attempt to reduce concepts to a formula. It could for instance just as easily arrived at 4 or 5 'faces' of God as three, but the choice of three does have a certain economy and appeal.


  • aqwsed12345
    aqwsed12345

    @slimboyfat

    The idea of "second power" theology or agency (Wisdom, Shekinah, Logos) is indeed a documented theme in early Jewish and Christian literature. These figures, like Wisdom (Sophia) and the Logos (Word), are seen in some Jewish and early Christian texts as expressions of God's presence and activity in the world. However, the argument that these figures were merely agents or personifications of God, rather than distinct persons within the Godhead, requires a closer look at how early Christians interpreted these concepts.

    The late Jewish literature sometimes personified the word of God (memra). However, John's terminology bears the greatest similarity to that of the Jewish-Hellenistic Philo of Alexandria, although the content differs significantly. Some see Philo of Alexandria's theological speculations as at least the cradle of the Christian Logos doctrine. Philo, in fact, adopts the Greek philosophical concept of the Logos and uses it to bridge the gap between God and the world. He views the Logos as the mediator of creation, but in his view, it is not a divine person, and the idea of incarnation is absent. Philo, in a Stoic manner, posits semi-personified independent forces within God, sometimes two, sometimes three, five, or even an infinite number; among them is the nous or logos, which he occasionally calls the Son of God and once refers to as a second god. However, Philo's logos is neither God nor a person, but a mediator between God and the world, a tool of creation, similar to the final aeon in Gnostic thought. According to Harnack, John's Logos shares little more than the name with Philo’s Logos. In the case of Philo, the logos is a vague and confused concept—something like an emanation or attribute of God, a tool of creation (demiurge), a mediator between God and the world, but not a distinct person, not incarnate, not a redeemer, not the Messiah. John assumes that his readers had some familiarity with the logos; however, the Christian idea of the Word was neither derived from Jewish theology nor from Greek philosophy, but was received through divine revelation.

    The Logos theology in particular, as found in the Gospel of John, does not support a view of the Logos as merely an agent or a created being. John 1:1–3 explicitly states that “the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through Him all things were made; without Him nothing was made that has been made.” This passage establishes the eternal existence of the Logos (Jesus) with God, and it directly states that the Logos is God. There is no suggestion here of subordination in essence, only a distinction of personhood. The Logos is presented as co-eternal and co-creative with the Father.

    It’s important to clarify that subordination in function does not imply subordination in essence. In passages like John 17:3, where Jesus refers to the Father as the “only true God,” the context emphasizes Jesus' role in the economy of salvation, not a lesser divinity. In Christian theology, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit have distinct roles or functions (the Father sends, the Son redeems, the Spirit sanctifies), but they share the same divine nature. This is a cornerstone of Trinitarian theology, which was affirmed long before the fourth century.

    The early church fathers, even before Nicaea, affirmed Jesus' full divinity. For example:

    • Ignatius of Antioch (early 2nd century) referred to Jesus as "our God". In his letter to the Ephesians, he wrote, “There is one Physician who is possessed both of flesh and spirit; both made and not made; God existing in flesh; true life in death; both of Mary and of God; first passible and then impassible, even Jesus Christ our Lord.”
    • Justin Martyr (mid-2nd century) spoke of Jesus as “the Word, who is God” and said that Christians “worship Him” along with the Father.

    These examples show that early Christian thinkers, well before the Council of Nicaea, did not subscribe to a purely subordinationist Christology. Instead, they saw Jesus as fully divine, yet distinct in person from the Father.

    Slimboyfat references John 10, where Jesus quotes Psalm 82:6 (“I said, you are gods”) to defend Himself against accusations of blasphemy. The argument is made that Jesus is here appealing to the broader use of the term “gods” in a way that supports subordinationist Christology.

    However, this passage doesn’t imply that Jesus is simply one among many divine agents. Instead, Jesus is using a lesser-to-greater argument. The context of Psalm 82 refers to human judges or rulers who are metaphorically called “gods” because of their role in executing God’s judgment. Jesus contrasts this with His own identity, which is far superior: He is not merely a human ruler given divine authority but the Son of God, set apart and sent directly by the Father. The Jews understood this as a claim to divinity, as evidenced by their attempt to stone Him for blasphemy (John 10:33). Therefore, rather than denying His divinity, Jesus is reinforcing it in a way that His audience would understand.

  • In John 10:34-36, Jesus refers to Psalm 82, where human judges are metaphorically called "gods" (elohim) because they were appointed by God to administer justice. The Psalm criticizes these judges for their failure to uphold righteousness. Jesus’ use of this passage does not suggest that He is equating Himself with these human judges. Rather, He is using a kal va-chomer (a fortiori) argument: if mere human judges can be called "gods" in Scripture because of their God-given role, how much more appropriate is it for Him, the one who was sanctified and sent by the Father, to claim a unique divine status as the Son of God?

  • The use of Psalm 82 is not meant to downplay Jesus’ divinity. Instead, it highlights the inconsistency of His accusers: if they accepted that lesser beings (human judges) could be called "gods," how could they accuse Jesus of blasphemy for calling Himself the Son of God, when His relationship with the Father is far greater than that of human judges? The argument strengthens, rather than weakens, His claim to divinity.

  • The reaction of the Jewish leaders in John 10:31-33—seeking to stone Jesus for blasphemy—shows that they understood His claim as one of divine equality, not as a mere functional or metaphorical title. If Jesus were only claiming a status similar to human judges, there would have been no grounds for the charge of blasphemy.

  • The attempt to reduce Jesus' divinity to a mere functional or metaphorical role based on John 10:34-36 or Psalm 82 misunderstands both the rhetorical nature of Jesus' argument and the broader context of John’s Gospel. Jesus' use of Psalm 82 does not diminish His divinity; rather, it highlights the inconsistency of His accusers.

  • In John 20:28, Thomas refers to Jesus as "my Lord and my God" (Greek: ho theos mou). This is a clear and explicit declaration of Jesus’ divine identity, not a metaphorical or functional use of the term "God." Thomas is recognizing Jesus not as a subordinate being or a mere representative of God, but as truly divine. The context of the Gospel of John makes it clear that Thomas’ exclamation is an affirmation of Jesus’ divinity. Throughout the Gospel, Jesus is portrayed as having a unique, divine relationship with the Father (John 1:1, John 1:18, John 5:18, John 8:58). The Gospel does not present Jesus as a mere "servant of God" in a metaphorical sense, but as God incarnate.

  • John 17:3 refers to the Father as "the only true God," but this does not exclude Jesus from being divine. In the context of John’s Gospel, Jesus shares in the Father’s divine nature (John 1:1, "the Word was God"), yet the Father remains the source of all divinity. The doctrine of the Trinity affirms that the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are distinct persons within the one divine essence. Thus, Jesus being called "God" (John 20:28) and the Father being called "the only true God" (John 17:3) are not contradictory but consistent within Trinitarian theology.

  • By the time of Second Temple Judaism (and certainly in the time of Jesus), Jewish monotheism had become strict and unequivocal. The worship of one God, Yahweh, was a central and defining feature of Jewish faith. While earlier Old Testament texts may use the term "elohim" in a more fluid or metaphorical sense, by the time of the New Testament, such usage had largely ceased. The term "God" (theos) was applied exclusively to Yahweh, with no acknowledgment of other "gods" in any real or divine sense.

  • The fact that John 1:1 and John 20:28 refer to Jesus as "theos" in a monotheistic Jewish context is significant. It would be unthinkable for a monotheistic Jew like Thomas to call Jesus "God" unless he truly believed in Jesus’ divinity. John’s Gospel is written within this monotheistic framework, making it clear that Jesus is fully divine and shares in the unique identity of the one true God.



  • Slimboyfat claims that the idea of Jesus being co-equal with God was a later development, solidified at the Council of Nicaea in the fourth century. While it’s true that the Council of Nicaea clarified and formalized the language of the Trinity, the belief in Jesus’ divinity was not an invention of the fourth century.
  • As mentioned earlier, early Christian writings consistently affirmed Jesus as divine. The purpose of the Council of Nicaea was to address the Arian controversy, which claimed that Jesus was a created being. The council’s declaration that Jesus is “of the same substance” (homoousios) with the Father was not a new doctrine but a defense of what the church had already been teaching against the novel ideas of Arius.

    Slimboyfat argues that terms like Wisdom, Glory, and Shekinah were used to refer to the activity of God rather than distinct persons. However, early Christian thought did not equate these concepts with the distinct personhood of the Logos. The Logos (Jesus) is not merely an abstract principle or force but a person who took on flesh (John 1:14). The early Christians did not worship abstract concepts like Glory or Wisdom but worshiped Jesus Christ as a person who is fully divine and fully human.

    Slimboyfat points out that Jesus came to do the will of the Father, not His own (John 6:38), implying that this shows Jesus is subordinate. However, the incarnation involved Jesus taking on a human nature and willingly submitting to the Father’s will to accomplish salvation. This functional subordination during His earthly ministry does not imply an eternal subordination in His divine nature. Philippians 2:6-7 makes it clear that Jesus, though “in very nature God”, “did not consider equality with God something to be used to His own advantage” but “emptied Himself” by taking on human nature.

    @peacefulpete

    I argued that just because two concepts resemble each other, it doesn’t mean one stems from the other. However, your response seems to misunderstand my critique and continues to assert an equivalence between pre-Christian ideas in late Second Temple Judaism and early Christian thought. You argue that this analysis of late Second Temple Judaism isn't “Hislopian” because the context is different—late Second Temple Judaism is the "soil" of Christianity. While it’s true that Christianity emerged from this milieu, simply highlighting conceptual similarities between Jewish and Christian terms, such as Wisdom or Logos, does not automatically establish a genealogical relationship. This is Hislopian in the sense that superficial similarities are presented as evidence of dependency.

    The distinction between pre-Christian Jewish uses of "Wisdom" or "Logos" and Christian Christology is crucial. While Second Temple Judaism may use terms like Logos or Wisdom as ways of discussing God’s agency, Christian theology took these terms and expanded on them in unique ways. For example, while Philo of Alexandria uses Logos to speak of a divine mediator, it never approaches the incarnational theology present in John 1:14, where the Logos becomes flesh. Acknowledging shared vocabulary does not justify assuming shared theology. By this you fall into the same trap Hislop does—finding a superficial parallel and assuming influence.

    The argument that "Wisdom" or "Logos" was subordinate and distinct from God until the fourth century misunderstands both Jewish and early Christian theology. Yes, pre-Christian Jewish literature sometimes personifies Wisdom and speaks of God’s agency through intermediaries, but early Christians did not merely adopt these categories. They transformed them.

    Consider the Logos in the Gospel of John: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God (John 1:1). While there is acknowledgment of the Word’s relationship with God, the text also affirms the full divinity of the Logos. This is a radical departure from Jewish concepts of Wisdom or God’s Glory. The Nicene doctrine didn’t create this idea out of thin air—it codified what early Christians already believed, as evidenced by John’s Gospel. I quote:

    II. THE CHRISTOLOGICAL FAITH OF THE FIRST COUNCILS
    A. From the New Testament to the Council of Nicaea
    1. The theologians who in our time raise doubts about the divinity of Christ often argue that this dogma cannot have emerged from genuine biblical revelation; its origins are traceable to Hellenism. Deeper historical inquiries show, on the contrary, that the thought pattern of the Greeks was totally alien to this dogma and that they rejected it with the utmost vigor. To the faith of Christians who proclaimed the divinity of Christ, Hellenism opposed its own dogma of the divine transcendence, which it regarded as irreconcilable with the contingency inherent to the human history of Jesus of Nazareth. Greek philosophers experienced the particular difficulty entailed in accepting the notion of a divine incarnation. In the name of their teaching on the godhead, Platonist philosophers regarded this notion as unthinkable. The Stoics, in turn, could not manage to reconcile the Christological dogma with their cosmological doctrine.
    2. It was in order to respond to these difficulties that, more or less openly, many Christian theologians borrowed from Hellenism the notion of a secondary god (deuteros theos), or of an intermediate god, or even of a demiurge. Obviously, this was tantamount to clearing the way to the threat of subordinationism. This subordinationism was already latent in some of the Apologists and in Origen. Arius made a formal heresy of it. He maintained that the Son occupies an intermediate position between the Father and the creatures. The Arian heresy offers a good illustration of how the dogma of Christ’s divinity would have looked had it truly emerged from the philosophy of Hellenism and not from God’s own revelation. At the Council of Nicaea in a.d. 325, the Church defined that the Son is consubstantial (homoousios) with the Father. In so doing, the Church both repudiated the Arian compromise with Hellenism and deeply altered the shape of Greek, especially Platonist and neo-Platonist, metaphysics. In a manner of speaking, it demythicized Hellenism and effected a Christian purification of it. In the act of dismissing the notion of an intermediate being, the Church recognized only two modes of being: uncreated (nonmade) and created.
    To be sure, "homoousios", the term used by the Council of Nicaea, is a philosophical and nonbiblical term. It is evident all the same that, ultimately, the Fathers of the Council only intended to express the authentic meaning of the New Testament assertions concerning Christ, and to do this in a way that would be univocal and free from all ambiguity.
    In issuing this definition of Christ’s divinity, the Church found support also in the experience of salvation and in man’s divinization in Christ. In turn, the dogmatic definition impressed its own determination and mark on the experience of salvation. There was, then, an in-depth interaction between lived experience and the process whereby theological clarification was achieved.
    3. The theological reflections of the Fathers of the Church did not ignore the special problem connected with the divine preexistence of Christ. Note in particular Hippolytus of Rome, Marcellus of Ancyra, and Photinus. Their attempts are bent on presenting the preexistence of Christ not at the level of ontological reality but at that of intentionality: Christ had preexisted in the sense of having been foreseen (kata prognosin).
    These presentations of the preexistence of Christ were judged inadequate by the Catholic Church and condemned. Thus the Church gave expression to her own belief in an ontological preexistence of Christ, for which it found support in the Father's eternal generation of the Word. The Church also referred to the clear-cut New Testament affirmations concerning the active role played by the Word of God in the creation of the world. Obviously, someone who does not yet exist, or is only intended to exist, cannot play any such role.
    (Source)

    To bridge the gap between Greek philosophical concepts and Christian theology, some early Christian theologians borrowed the Greek idea of a "secondary god" (deuteros theos) or a demiurge (an intermediate being between God and creation). This marked a rejection of the Arian compromise with Greek thought and reshaped metaphysical categories in Platonist philosophy. The Church affirmed only two types of beings: uncreated (God) and created (everything else).

    Furthermore, figures like Justin Martyr, illustrate that Christian writers in the second century already saw the Logos as divine and distinct from creation, long before the Council of Nicaea. This undermines the claim that the Logos or "second god" (to borrow Philo’s term) only became elevated in the fourth century.

    You also claim that emanations of God are “both God himself and subservient to God,” which seems to blur the lines between agency and identity. This view might align with certain Neoplatonist or Gnostic ideas, but it's not representative of classical Christian theology or even Jewish thought.

    In Christian doctrine the Son is indeed distinct from the Father, but not in the sense of being subordinate (inferior) in nature. The doctrine of the Trinity clearly affirms the co-equality of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—each fully divine, yet distinct in their relational roles. The concept of homoousios (of the same essence) emerged precisely to combat ideas that relegated the Son to a subordinate, created being. Early Christian theology, especially by the time of the Nicene Creed, rejected subordinationism. Thus, while earlier Jewish traditions might speak of intermediaries, the Christian doctrine of the Trinity developed a much more nuanced and robust theology of divine agency and unity.

    You argue that the Gospels should be seen as theological texts rather than historical documents. While it is true that the Gospels carry theological meaning, this does not negate their historical content. Many scholars, both conservative and critical, acknowledge that the Gospels were written with theological intent but still reflect historical claims about Jesus’ life, teachings, death, and resurrection.

    Christian doctrine, including the Trinity, is grounded in what Christians believe to be historical revelation. The claim that the Trinity could have had "four or five faces" trivializes the deep theological reflection that went into its formulation. It wasn’t merely a formula for the sake of conceptual neatness; it emerged from grappling with the revelation of God in Christ and the Spirit, within the framework of Jewish monotheism. The Trinity reflects a coherent response to the experience of Jesus and the Holy Spirit as fully divine while maintaining the uniqueness of the one true God.

    Finally, you claim that the idea of Jesus being "God" was only elevated in the fourth century. This is demonstrably false. The New Testament itself provides numerous passages where Jesus is ascribed divine status (John 1:1, John 20:28, Colossians 2:9, Titus 2:13, etc.), and early Church Fathers like Ignatius of Antioch and Justin Martyr describe Jesus in explicitly divine terms, long before Nicaea.

    The development at Nicaea was not an invention of new theology, but a formalization of what was already widely believed. The council was convened to address the Arian controversy, which had challenged the full divinity of Jesus. Thus, Nicaea did not "overturn" earlier teaching; it clarified and defended what had been part of Christian orthodoxy from the beginning. The early church’s belief in Christ’s divinity and the doctrine of the Trinity was not a later invention or a mere borrowing from Jewish ideas of Wisdom or Logos. Instead, it was a response to the revelation of God in Christ, affirmed by scripture and the early Christian community.

  • slimboyfat
    slimboyfat
    Finally, you claim that the idea of Jesus being "God" was only elevated in the fourth century.

    Not me, I quoted Geza Vermes who said that, and earlier the NT scholar E.P. Sanders who said somethings similar. It’s the mainstream view outside of Trinitarian scholarship.

    Ignatius is an interesting case. The Ignatian corpus includes anachronisms that stick out like a sore thumb and have bothered scholars for a long time. A study a few years ago showed that many of the Trinitarian turns of phrase in Ignatius were likely fourth century additions to the text.

    Gilliam III, P. (2017). Ignatius of Antioch and the Arian controversy (Vol. 140). Brill.

    https://www.amazon.co.uk/Ignatius-Controversy-Vigiliae-Christianae-Supplements/dp/9004342877

  • aqwsed12345
    aqwsed12345

    @slimboyfat

    While Vermes and Sanders are respected scholars, it is crucial to recognize that their interpretations are part of a broader scholarly debate, not the definitive word on the matter. The notion that Jesus' divinity was a late development, only fully realized in the fourth century, is indeed a popular view in some academic circles, but it is far from universally accepted. Moreover, it is not the only perspective, even outside of Trinitarian scholarship.

    The divinity of Christ is not a concept that suddenly emerged in the fourth century. Numerous early Christian writings attest to a high Christology long before the Council of Nicaea in 325 AD. For example, Ignatius of Antioch, Clement of Rome, and Justin Martyr all display a belief in Christ’s divine status, even if their theological language was not as precise as what later became the formal doctrine of the Trinity.

    While you mentioned that some scholars have questioned the authenticity of the Ignatian corpus due to possible later interpolations, it is important to note that the core of Ignatius' writings is widely accepted as genuine. In his authentic letters, Ignatius frequently refers to Jesus as "God" (e.g., in his letter to the Ephesians, chapter 7: "our God, Jesus Christ"). While some argue about later additions, the core belief in the divinity of Christ is present in these early texts.

    The Roman governor Pliny the Younger, in his letter to Emperor Trajan around 112 AD, describes Christians singing hymns to Christ "as to a god" (Epistulae 10.96). This demonstrates that the worship of Jesus as divine was a widespread practice in the early second century, well before the fourth century.

    Prior to Nicaea, several early Christian creeds, such as the Old Roman Creed, implicitly affirmed Christ’s divinity. These were used in the baptismal rites of early Christians and demonstrate a continuity of belief that long predates the fourth century.

    While Vermes and Sanders offer critical perspectives, other scholars, such as Richard Bauckham, Larry Hurtado, and N.T. Wright, argue strongly for the presence of a high Christology from the earliest stages of Christianity. Bauckham’s work, for example, places Jesus within the "divine identity" of God as understood in Second Temple Judaism, indicating that the belief in Jesus’ divinity is not a fourth-century development but part of the earliest Christian faith.

    Hurtado’s research on early Christian worship highlights how Jesus was worshiped alongside God in a way that was highly unusual in a strict Jewish monotheistic context. This "binitarian" worship points to an early understanding of Jesus’ divinity that could not have developed gradually over centuries if the Christian communities had been adhering to a purely human Jesus.

    Thus, the Council of Nicaea did not invent the divinity of Christ but clarified and formalized what was already believed in the Church. The debates that led to Nicaea arose precisely because many Christians already worshiped Jesus as divine, and they sought to understand how Jesus’ divinity related to the Father in a coherent theological framework. The term "homoousios" (of the same essence) was used to solidify Christ’s divinity in the face of Arian subordinationism, not to introduce a new idea.

  • peacefulpete
    peacefulpete
    Yes, pre-Christian Jewish literature sometimes personifies Wisdom and speaks of God’s agency through intermediaries, but early Christians did not merely adopt these categories. They transformed them.

    Absolutely. Did they 'transform' them over the course of a few decades or centuries seems to be the question. I'm arguing the former, the 'transformation' of a spiritual agency, a Son, Logos etc. into a God/Man was the result of literalization of a Gospel narrative. Whether you share that premise of not, we agree that many of the underlying language and concepts existed in Jewish precedent.

    What I understand you to be saying is that early Christians appropriated' the terminology but not the theology of Jewish precedent. However, in my mind intentional reuse of terminology implies intent of either continuity or obfuscation. I think we agree early Christians were not seeking to confuse Jewish converts, if not then we have to believe that Christian conversion was facilitated through familiarity with prior concepts.

  • aqwsed12345
    aqwsed12345

    @peacefulpete

    Your response continues to emphasize the idea that early Christians "transformed" Jewish precedents regarding Wisdom, Logos, and other concepts, suggesting that this transformation happened over the course of a few decades rather than centuries. However, this interpretation still doesn't account for the unique theological leap early Christians made in their understanding of Jesus Christ.

    You argue that the transformation of terms like Logos or Wisdom into a "God/Man" happened through a literalization of the Gospel narrative. While it is true that early Christians built upon Jewish concepts, the transformation was not merely a process of making an intermediary into a literal God-man. Rather, it was a radical rethinking of the relationship between God and His creation, inspired by their belief in Jesus’ resurrection and divinity.

    John's Gospel is a perfect example. When John speaks of the Logos, he isn’t just using Jewish concepts in a way that would make sense to Jewish converts. He radically expands those ideas, presenting the Logos as not just God’s agent but as fully divine and distinct in personhood: "the Word was with God, and the Word was God" (John 1:1). This theological move is more than just a “literalization” of Jewish thought—it is a revelation-based transformation that involved a new understanding of Jesus as both God and man.

    Early Christians saw Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection as defining events that revealed something new about God, which goes beyond any Jewish precedent. The language used in the New Testament is contextually influenced by Jewish thought, but the theology—particularly regarding the Incarnation and the Trinity—was fundamentally new.

    You suggest that the reuse of Jewish terminology like “Logos” or “Wisdom” implies either intentional continuity or obfuscation. I would argue it implies neither. Early Christians were not simply appropriating Jewish terms to appeal to a Jewish audience. They were reinterpreting these terms in light of their experience of Christ’s divinity.

    Terminology doesn’t automatically carry theological equivalence. Just because Christians reused familiar terms doesn’t mean they intended to create a sense of theological continuity with prior Jewish thought. In fact, early Christian writings make it clear that Christians often saw themselves as redefining key concepts—not just reapplying them.

    Early Christians were not attempting to confuse their Jewish converts by reusing familiar terms like “Logos.” Instead, they were attempting to explain the new revelation of Christ using language and concepts that their audience could understand, but with radically new theological implications. This was not an obfuscation or a continuation of Jewish thought, but rather a reinterpretation that was intended to express the uniqueness of Christ.

    For example Paul’s writings show that early Christians saw the divinity of Christ as a new understanding of God’s revelation. He describes Jesus as the one in whom “the fullness of God was pleased to dwell” (Colossians 1:19). This is not a subtle use of Jewish precedent but an assertion of Christ’s unique status as God incarnate, an unprecedented idea in Judaism.

    You suggest that Christian conversion must have been facilitated through familiarity with prior Jewish concepts, implying that there must have been some theological continuity. However, while familiarity with Jewish concepts may have made Christianity more comprehensible, the decisive factor for early Christian conversion was the belief in the resurrection of Jesus and the experience of the Holy Spirit.

    For Jewish converts, the familiarity with terms like Logos or Wisdom may have helped them understand certain aspects of Christian theology. However, it’s the new and radical claims about Jesus—His divinity, incarnation, death, and resurrection—that were central to Christian faith. This wasn’t about continuity with Jewish ideas, but about the revelation of Christ and the fulfillment of messianic promises in ways that transcended Jewish precedent.

    Consider how Paul, a devout Jew and Pharisee, comes to this transformative realization in his encounter with the risen Christ. He preaches a Gospel that is distinctly Christian, focusing on the death and resurrection of Jesus as the central events that reshape Jewish expectations about the Messiah and salvation.

    Your previous claim still hinges on a Hislopian-like genealogy between Second Temple Judaism and early Christian thought. Yes, there are shared terms and concepts, but it doesn’t follow that early Christian theology is just a continuation or literalization of those ideas. As I’ve mentioned before, similarities do not prove dependence. This is the essence of my critique—assuming that because terms like “Logos” or “Wisdom” exist in both traditions, Christian theology must have stemmed directly from Jewish precedents is an oversimplification.

    The development of the doctrine of the Trinity and the Incarnation wasn’t just the natural evolution of Jewish ideas of God’s agency but a profound revelation that redefined those categories. Christian theology takes what was implicit or incomplete in Jewish thought and transforms it in light of Christ’s revelation. This transformation is not the result of borrowing but of revelation.

    While it’s true that early Christians used familiar Jewish concepts to communicate their message, the theological content of Christianity went far beyond those Jewish precedents. The idea of Jesus as the Incarnate Word, fully God and fully man, was not a mere literalization of pre-Christian Jewish thought. It was a radical rethinking of how God relates to humanity, which came through the experience of Jesus’ resurrection and the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Thus, while there may have been shared terminology, the theology of the New Testament is ultimately a new revelation, not just a reinterpretation of existing Jewish categories.

  • peacefulpete
    peacefulpete

    I agree with the spirit of your comments. My focus is upon the faith of the earliest believers in a revelatory Christ. Attempting to model their complex transformation into a powerful institution. I think it reasonable to begin where the faith broke from its roots, Judaism. I think you do as well. Am I arguing there was no 'break''? of course not. At some early phase a new 'revelation' identified one sect from another. This process repeated many times. Such is why in a short span of time we find seemingly radically different schools of thought under the umbrella of Christianity. Johannine Christians, perhaps a century or more later, IMO represent a response to some of these developments. It's my opinion it preserves, in a post-Gospel way, some of the earlier flavor. Briefly said, the break from Hellenized Judaism was real but yet it was no more radical than Docetism from its precedents, or that of the scores of other 'heterodoxies' the later Catholic church denounced in its efforts to homogenize Christianity into a powerful institution.

    While many find the notion radical or fringe, considering the possibility that Christianity followed a path similar to most faiths, beginning as a concept rather than an historical event, is quite rational. Having spent years in a Hindu culture, I observed just how seamlessly the mind can transform spiritual/metaphor into live action characters. The less initiated can be excused for literalizing stories of Ganesh, Lord Vishnu and countless other emanations of Brahman. Millenia of dramatization through story telling have given these 'concepts' a temporality/corporeality not intended by their Vedic faith's founders. Many reformed Jews would understand the same took place in their faith. Yahweh walking around in his park or riding a chariot and such.

    Ultimately every faith is unique and at the same time indebted to its precedents.

  • aqwsed12345
    aqwsed12345

    @peacefulpete

    Your response reflects an interesting perspective, especially in how religious movements evolve over time and borrow from their cultural and theological contexts. However, I think the crux of our disagreement lies in how we understand the origins of Christianity and the nature of its development from Judaism and the surrounding Hellenistic culture.

    You argue that Christianity’s break from Judaism was real but not as radical as some might think, comparing it to other movements like Docetism or various heterodoxies. While it’s true that Christianity emerged from Second Temple Judaism, the break was not simply a result of gradual conceptual development. Instead, it was a theological rupture, centered around the belief in Jesus’ resurrection and His divine identity. This belief, and the accompanying Christological claims, were fundamentally different from what most Jews of the time would have accepted.

    For example, the Apostle Paul—himself a Jewish Pharisee—acknowledged that the Christian message of a crucified Messiah was a “stumbling block to the Jews” (1 Corinthians 1:23). This shows that the early Christian understanding of Jesus’ divinity and messianic role was radically new and not merely a continuation of previous Jewish thought.

    You mention the Johannine Christians as responding to some of these developments, and indeed, the Gospel of John reflects a high Christology where Jesus is identified with the Logos. However, the idea of the Logos in John is not merely a borrowing from Greek philosophy (as seen in Philo of Alexandria) but a reinterpretation within a distinctly Jewish monotheistic framework. In John 1:1, the Logos is not an intermediary deity or mere personification of divine wisdom; the Logos is God and becomes flesh. This reflects a bold theological move that transforms previous Jewish and Hellenistic ideas in ways neither tradition had fully anticipated.

    You suggest that Christianity may have begun as a concept rather than a historical event, which is a perspective often explored by those who see the mythologization of religious figures. However, early Christian belief was deeply rooted in historical claims about Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. For the early Christians, Jesus' resurrection was a pivotal, real event that validated His claims to divinity and messianic role. The apostles and early Christians did not merely perceive Jesus as a metaphorical or spiritual figure; they staked their faith on His bodily resurrection, an event they saw as historical fact (1 Corinthians 15:3-8). This belief is what caused Christianity to diverge so significantly from both Judaism and Hellenism.

    Comparing this development to how Hinduism may have turned metaphors into literal stories overlooks the unique emphasis that Christianity places on historical revelation. While there are metaphorical elements in Christian teaching, the core of the faith is grounded in historical claims about Jesus’ actions and identity.

    You correctly point out that all religions are influenced by their precedents, and Christianity is no exception. However, Christianity’s transformation of previous ideas wasn’t simply an adaptation; it was a revelatory event that dramatically reshaped how Jews and Gentiles alike understood God, salvation, and human history. This transformation involved not just borrowing, but also a radical re-interpretation and even rejection of some previous concepts. The Nicene Creed and later theological developments were not efforts to homogenize for the sake of political power but were responses to real theological challenges and debates within the Christian community, affirming what the church believed had been revealed through Jesus and the apostles.

    While there is certainly room for exploring how faith traditions evolve, Christianity, from its earliest days, was centered on Jesus as a historical and divine figure. The transformation from Judaism wasn’t merely a philosophical shift; it was a claim to new revelation, grounded in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ.

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