What did the New Testament writers mean by calling Jesus the “Son of God”?

Introduction

Today if someone says that Person X is the son of Person Y, they would usually mean that Person Y is blood parent to Person X. There are some other less common uses of the phrase “son of” that do not imply genetic relationship. Person Y might be an adoptive parent, or a step parent; those relationships imply the same responsibilities of parenthood, though that relationship is of a different origin. In addition, “son of” might be used in metaphorical contexts, not implying any sense of a parental relationship.

Similarly in first century Greek, there were a range of uses of the phrase “son of” in addition to the most common and natural meaning of being natural born child of someone. As well as adoptive and honorific sonship, the phrase “son of” could also be used in a metaphoric sense. For example, Paul says that one could be a “son of disobedience” (Eph 2:2) or a “son of destruction” (2 Thess 2:3). Therefore when one considers the use of the phrase “Son of God” as applied to Jesus in the New Testament it is not conclusive from the use of the words alone that God was responsible for Jesus’ birth.

The question of what “Son of God” means is made all the more significant by virtue of the claims that it does not primarily derive its meaning from Jesus’ miraculous conception. One familiar claim is that Jesus was the Son by virtue of proceeding eternally from the Father and that it is to this relationship that the New Testament writers refer. An alternative claim is that “son of God” was a status ascribed to the Davidic king (cf. Psalm 2; 2 Samuel 7) and was thus ascribed to Jesus by virtue of his Messianic claims. Whether this latter claim has any substance depends, in part, on whether any pre-Christian usage of “son of God” in reference to the messiah can be attested. J. Collins concludes “’Son of God’ was not widespread as a messianic title, insofar as we now know, but it is attested”.[1] This judgment is based on Jewish texts like 4Q174 and 4Q246, and possibly 4 Ezra 13. R. N. Longenecker, though dismissing some references as post-Christian (e.g. 1 Enoch 105:2; 4 Ezra 13), concedes that 4Q174 shows that the association between sonship and messiahship was “just” coming into use by the time of Jesus.[2] In contrast, in the Psalms of Solomon (c. 40 BC), though the author calls the faithful ‘sons of their God’ (17:27), never uses the phrase “son of God” when referring to the Messiah (17:21). J. van Brussen comments “in pre-New Testament Judaism we do not encounter the link between these two terms. Here we are faced with a development in terminology that is quite new”.[3]

It is not the purpose in this article to explore the background of the phrase “son of God” in pre-Christian Jewish texts. Regardless of the relative merits of these claims, it is clear from the OT texts like Psalm 2 and 2 Samuel 7 that the referent of those texts, that is the Davidic king and latterly the Messiah, was, in some sense, understood to have a father-son relationship with God. The question I wish to explore is whether this is what the NT writers meant when they described Jesus as the Son of God, or whether their usage of that phrase had a wider compass. Or, put another way, can “Son of God” be understood narrowly to just mean “Messiah”, or in its NT usage does it presuppose the virgin birth?

Pauline Epistles

Already, when Paul was composing his epistles, the word “Christ” was used as a unique identifier for Jesus such that Jesus and Christ could be used more or less synonymously. Similarly “Christ” was frequently used in close conjunction with Jesus (e.g. “Jesus Christ”). For Paul there is no question as to the identity of the Messiah, nor is there any expectation that this title will now ever be ascribed to another. The referent of “Christ” is Jesus. Yet, for Paul, there is also no question that Jesus is God’s son. The referent of “Son of God” is also Jesus. In this sense it would be unsurprising to find a level of symmetry in the usage of “Christ” and “Son” (cf. Eph 4:13).

However, it seems clear that for Paul “Son of God” does not mean “Christ”. In several places he uses “Jesus Christ” in such as way as to identify the reference of “Son”.  For example, in Rom 1:3 Paul writes, “Concerning his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord, which was made …”; here “Son” and “Christ” are not synonymous but Paul equates them as having the same referent (cf. 1 Cor 1:9; 2 Cor 1:19).

Given then that “Son” and “Christ” have the same referent for Paul, it is not obvious how one can distinguish alternative meanings for the uses of these words. For example, in 1 Thess 1:10 Paul writes that believers “wait for his Son from heaven”. Adela Collins argues that Paul bases this upon Q (the hypothetical gospel source), specifically on the Son of Man sayings regarding a return from heaven; Paul, she argues, has updated “Son of Man” to “Son of God” for a Gentile audience. [4] But given that “Son of Man” was not synonymous with “Messiah”, at least not in pre-Christian usage, it does not seem convincing to argue that here Paul is using “Son” as equivalent to “Messiah”. More plausibly, he simply believes both that Jesus is the Son of God and that Jesus will return from heaven.

One important passage is Rom 1:1-5 where Paul contrasts Jesus as descendent of David, “according to the flesh”, and Son of God, “according to the Spirit”. To call Jesus a descendent of David is almost certainly an allusion to his being the messiah and so, by implication, “Son of God” would not be a reference to his being the messiah. Adela Collins attempts to avoid this implication by arguing that Paul is contrasting Jesus’ status as messiah designate, during his lifetime, and his status as messiah in a stronger sense, following his resurrection.[5] Yet this is not the contrast Paul is making in these verses. He is explicitly making the contrast between what Christ is “according to the flesh” and “according to the Spirit”. The most obvious reading is that Paul is contrasting Jesus’ natural descent from David with his sonship according to the Spirit of God. Of course there are ways that one might be a “spiritual” son of God that do not necessitate being conceived of by the Spirit so these verses in isolation cannot be taken as proof that Paul knew about and believed in the virginal conception. Nevertheless, it does seem clear that for Paul being the Son of God means something more than being the Messiah and heir to the Davidic dynasty.

Later in Romans Paul says that God sent “his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh” (Rom 8:3). Read against the background of an incarnation Christology, “sent” implies pre-existence yet sent is the verb commonly used for the sending the prophets so it does not in itself imply some descent from heaven. Yet the use of “Son” here is interesting. It is difficult here to read Paul as saying that God sent the Messiah to condemn sin as that is not a function of the Messianic role. Rather, Paul is highlighting that there was something special about Jesus as Son so that he could achieve in his coming what the Law could not. We find a similar theme in Galatians 4 where Paul says that God sent his Son to redeem those under the law (Gal 4:4-5). Again, Paul draws on the mode of Jesus’ coming (“in the likeness of sinful flesh” Rom 8:3; “born of a woman, born under the law” Gal 4:4) as integral to what he achieved. It is not that a human man was appointed Messiah and could then redeem mankind, rather something about Jesus’ nature from birth was necessary for God’s plan.

In Galatians, as elsewhere, Paul himself uses the imagery of adoption with reference to believers. He says, “as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God” (Rom 8:14) and, quoting the OT, “you shall be my sons and daughters”, says the Lord’ (2 Cor 6:18; also see Rom 8:19; Gal 4:5-6; Phil 2:15). Yet, the very fact that Paul describes believers as the adopted children of God demonstrates that he does not regard Jesus Christ as the adopted Son of God (cf. Gal 4:4-6; Rom 8:29). When “God sent forth his Son”, he did so by making him of a woman (Gal 4:4). The verb here, ginomai, is not the usual word for ‘to be born’ (gennao) but for ‘creation’. Whilst it is possible to use ginomai as indicating a state of becoming, it is more often indicates origins. The implication is that God sent his Son by creating his Son. J. D. G. Dunn attempts to avoid any reference to Jesus’ birth by arguing that “born of a woman” refers only to “Jesus’ ordinary humanness”. [6] Though Dunn is right, that Paul is emphasising the humanity of Jesus so that he could redeem those “in bondage under the elements of the world” (Gal 4:3), Paul is also emphasising that God sent his Son at a specific time and that conditions what he says about Jesus being “made of a woman”.

The other factor in evaluating the sonship of Jesus in the writings of Paul is considering how Paul evaluates the relationship between God and his Son. The familiarity of that relationship is emphasised by Paul: Jesus is God’s ‘own Son’ (Rom 8:3, 32) and ‘his dear Son’ (Col 1:13). Paul writes, ‘if God did not spare his own Son’ (Rom 8:32) – emotive language such as this hardly fits a merely titular usage. Paul frequently identifies God as ‘the Father of our Lord’ (Rom 15:6; 2 Cor 1:3, 11:31; Eph 1:3, 3:14; Col 1:3) and this fatherhood is distinct from the adoption of believers.  Jesus is not nominally or adoptively the Son of God. Paul expresses their relationship as being personal, familiar and, apparently, literal.

Mark

Mark’s gospel is usually regarded as being the earliest and therefore often given primacy when considering the synoptic tradition. Jesus is referred to as the Son of God in 9 verses in Mark’s gospel (one of these is parabolic). This, in itself, does not indicate that the evangelist was not interested in sonship, nor that other titles were of greater significance for him. Even if his opening line (Mark 1:1) is judged to be inauthentic,[7] the announcement at Jesus’ baptism and the centurion’s acclamation at his crucifixion form an inclusio, indicating the significance of the theme of sonship for Mark.[8]

I have considered the question of whether Mark intends to present Jesus’ baptism as the moment of adoption elsewhere. I don’t think the case is very strong. It is worth mentioning that Mark introducing John’s ministry quotes from Mal 3:1 and Isa 40:3, implying that John is preparing the way for someone of special significance. John himself says that the coming one is mightier than he is and will be coming to baptize in the Holy Spirit (Mark 1:7-8). Even before his baptism, Jesus has special significance.

Two incidents in Mark’s gospel describe how the “demons” knew Jesus’ identity as the Son of God (Mark 3:11-12; 5:7). Whatever else is going on in these events, it is clear that these “demons” are presented as having special knowledge of Jesus’ identity. One might take the implication that Jesus is in some sense operating on the same plain as these “demons”. This isn’t messianic activity. This is the stuff of one who has spiritual authority.

A similar implication about the specialness of Jesus’ identity can be taken from the account of the transfiguration. For the voice of God himself to declare from heaven “this is my beloved Son” (Mark 9:7) implies that this was special knowledge, not simply deduced from one’s Davidic descent.

The parable of the wicked vinedressers marks out Jesus as the beloved son of the owner, not a mere servant (Mark 12:6). One might argue that the “heir” of the owner is the heir to the throne of God’s appointed regent, which is the Davidic throne. Yet it is significant that this beloved son is coming for the first time, not as the successor to a long line of regents. This son is unique in the history of the “vineyard”.

The declaration of Jesus that neither men, nor angels, nor even the Son knows the “day and hour” (Mark 13:32) places Jesus as the head of an impressive hierarchy, above the angels. Whilst he is noticeably distinct from the Father, he is second only to the Father in the list. The fact that it is specifically stated that the Son does not know, indicates that he is not regarded as man or an angel in respect of knowledge but as someone transcending both.

Arguably, the only occasion where Mark comes close to equating ‘Son of God’ with ‘messiah’ is Mark 14:61, the confrontation with the High Priest. The High Priest asks “are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?”, perhaps indicating an equivalence (in his mind at least) between messiah and Son of God. Jesus responds affirmatively and couples this with a reference to the coming of the Son of Man. There seems to be a three way equivalency being made here. Collins argues that this shows “the assumption the audience would understand and accept it”.[9] Yet this, in itself, proves very little. Mark’s audience were Christians (or else potential Gentile converts); by this time the equivalency between Son of God, Son of Man and Messiah was already established in the person of Jesus. In any case, were it relevant, it would prove too much; the Son of Man was not considered equivalent to the Messiah prior to Jesus’ claim to be both. Nevertheless, it does seem likely that the High Priest’s question implies that sonship was entailed in the concept of Messiah. But Jesus, having proclaimed himself both Son and heir openly in his parable in Jerusalem, may already have been associated with both claims and making this dual accusation only heightens the threat in the High Priest’s question.

The final incident is the centurion’s acclamation “truly this man was the Son of God” (Mark 15:39). Collins argues “the reason for the centurion’s affirmation in the narrative logic of the scene is somewhat obscure”. [10] Yet this is presumably because on no interpretative stretch could such events be considered consistent with a claim to be the Messiah. One cannot be the Davidic Messiah and be dead. Yet the logic of the narrative is straightforward: Jesus cries out, the veil of the temple is torn, the centurion acclaims. Now, of course, the centurion could not have seen the veil torn but presumably there was some other visible sign, such as the earthquake recorded in Matthew’s gospel that linked the tearing of the veil with Jesus’ cry. Whatever the intended narrative logic, it is clear that the centurion is not prompted to affirm that Jesus is the Messiah but that this man was someone of supernatural significance. Mark’s inclusio, (1:1; 15:39) therefore, proclaims the special sonship of Jesus through both divine and human voice in recognition of Jesus’ special status. Messiahship alone simply won’t do.

Matthew

The majority “solution” to the synoptic problem is that both Matthew and Luke depend upon Mark. This chronological primacy has implications for how we understand the theme of sonship in Matthew and Luke. If Mark understood sonship as equivalent with messiahship then we might expect some remnants of that understanding in the passages taken wholesale from Mark (if indeed this is how Matthew or Luke composed their gospel). What we would not expect is for Matthew or Luke to introduce this more primitive understanding at this (ex hypothesi) later stage, especially since both Matthew and Luke are explicit in explaining Jesus’ sonship as a direct consequence of his miraculous birth.

Matthew makes the link between the virgin birth and the sonship of Jesus explicit with his quotation from Hos 11:1, “out of Egypt I called my Son”. There is some element of the recapitulation of the experience of Israel here in Matthew’s account. Yet to identify Jesus with the experience of Israel is not to impute to him the eschatological role of Messiah, as Collins claims.[11] Were this the implication then there are plenty of OT quotations to hand to play up the Messianic significance. Instead, for Matthew the key point of comparison is that Jesus’ sonship was foreshadowed in Israel.

For some reason Collins tries to explain Matthew’s “introduction” of a virgin birth story as being prompted by pagan mythology; “the best explanation is that the author of Matthew and his predecessors were aware of Greek and Roman stories about great men being fathered by deities with human women”.[12] I do not know in what possible sense this can be considered the “best explanation”, except perhaps that it explains the otherwise inexplicable fact that Matthew wants to attribute Jesus’ sonship to a miraculous birth rather than to his role as the Messiah (as Collins believes he should). But this is simply reveals the hole in Collins’ agenda. Were the equivalency between “son of God” and “messiah” clear and uncontested amongst early Christians, then there would be no need to add a virgin birth narrative – it adds nothing. Only if it was considered that the sonship of Jesus was unexplained does it make sense for Matthew (or Luke for that matter) to include an explanation. And, all things considered, inventing a story that by any stretch might seem even remotely close to paganism is just too much of an embarrassment for an early Christian to do on a whim.

In Matt 11:27, Jesus makes a remarkably statement of his intimacy with the Father, that he has received “all things” from the Father and that he alone reveals the Father. Collins argues that the implication is that Jesus only exercises this authority after the resurrection.[13] Yet this is not how it reads. Matthew places these words prior to the crucifixion. The implication is that Jesus had that intimate relationship with his Father “at that time” (Matt 11:25). This relationship goes beyond Messiahship.

It is potentially significant that in Peter’s confession in Matt 16:16, we have coupled “Christ” with “Son of the living God”. Collins writes, “the close association of the two epithets here makes clear that they are equivalent for Matthew”.[14] Longenecker argues, from a traditio-historical perspective, that Peter’s confession should be viewed as part of a “symbolic whole” that includes the exaltation of the Messiah to be the elected king who is the Son of God.[15] Yet, however we understand Peter’s confession, when viewed in the context of the synoptic problem it cannot be evidence that the early Christians understood “Christ” and “Son of God” to be equivalent. The epithet “Son of God” is not included in the parallel in Mark’s account (Mark 8:29). If Mark is the earlier, and if Matthew depends on Mark, then Matt 16:16 is not evidence of an early Christian equivalency. And given that Matthew clearly traces the sonship of Jesus to his virgin birth then whatever Matthew’s purpose in including this second epithet, it is not to propose some other explanation for that sonship. A better explanation is that Peter’s confession in Matthew is disclosing a fuller sense of Jesus’ identity rather than trying to explicate the meaning of “Christ” with an additional epithet.

Luke

The same logic applies for Luke’s gospel as for Matthew’s. If Luke depends on Mark (or on Matthew and Mark, as some suppose) we would not expect Luke to introduce an equivalency between “Christ” and “Son of God”, which was absent in Mark. Rather, Luke, like Matthew, clearly understands the sonship of Jesus as a consequence of his virgin birth (Luke 1:35). The angel Gabriel reveals that Jesus will be both “Son of the Highest” and will sit on “the throne of his father David” (Luke 1:32). Yet far from suggesting an equivalency between these two concepts, [16] Luke’s narrative suggests that these two ideas are brought together only in the person of Jesus as a consequence of his dual parentage.  Once again, Collins proposes that Luke might be prompted by pagan stories to invent his virgin birth narrative. Yet she acknowledges that whilst “the designation of Jesus as ‘son of the Most High’ could call to mind stories about Zeus fathering sons by human women”, the more plausible context is Jewish as “the name ‘Most High’ applied to God is biblical”.[17]

One occasion in Luke’s gospel where we do find an equivalency between Son of God and Messiah is in the recognition of the demons: “you are the Christ, the Son of God” (Luke 4:41).[18] It is significant that in Mark’s gospel the demons identify Jesus only as the Son of God. Whatever the reason for Luke’s dual epithet here, it is not because he believes Jesus’ sonship is the same as his messiahship.

Conclusion

Collins concludes that “the early Christian proclamation of Jesus as Son of God must be seen in this context of Jewish messianic expectation”[19] but this brief study of sonship in the New Testament reveals a very different conclusion. Rather than “Son of God” being a mere synonym for Messiah, or else the sonship of Jesus developing out of the conviction that he was the Messiah, we have found that being the Messiah and being the Son concerns two different concepts that meet in Jesus. Longenecker finds six instances where “Christ” and “Son of God” might be read as equivalent (Matt 16:16, Matt 26:63; Luke 4:41; John 11:27; John 20:31; Acts 9:20-22).[20] In each instance he finds no strong evidence of equivalency. Instead he concludes: “there is no reason to assume in the above instances that Son of God is used either as a synonym for or to supersede the title Christ”[21]

Longenecker presents a different explanation than Collins for the sonship of Jesus. “The evidence from his use of ‘Father’ for God indicates that divine sonship was the basic datum for Jesus in his ministry”.[22] Claiming to be the Son of God, Jesus was not alluding to his Davidic descent or claim to be the future king, but was expressing his real relationship with God as his Father. When the early Christians used the phrase “Son of God” “it was probably used in a more functional manner by the earliest Jewish believers to denote Jesus’ unique relationship with God the Father and his obedience to the Father’s will”.[23]

Though neither Paul nor Mark give an account of Jesus’ birth, both describe his sonship in terms of that filial relationship.  Matthew and Luke, whilst adding something to what these others writers have given, they are in many ways just making explicit what Mark and Paul took for granted: that Jesus was actually the Son of God.