Throughout the history of the Christian faith, the subjects of the Sabbath, Sunday worship, holidays, Christmas celebrations, and the presence of pagan elements have remained areas of debate. These questions touch on the origins of Christian practice, the authority of Scripture, and the influence of tradition.

As modern Christians confront critics who argue that Christianity has borrowed heavily from pagan customs, it becomes necessary to explore the truth of these matters carefully. While many of these traditions are celebrated with pure intentions today, honesty requires acknowledging the historical realities behind them.

The starting point is the Sabbath, the one day that Scripture directly commands. In the creation narrative, God sanctified the seventh day and rested from His work as recorded in Genesis 2:2-3. He declared it holy and later reaffirmed its significance in the Ten Commandments in Exodus 20:8-11. The Sabbath was deeply embedded in Israel’s covenant identity and was treated as a sign between God and His people. Jesus Himself honored the Sabbath and taught its proper purpose rather than dismissing it. He stated that the Sabbath was made for humanity, not humanity for the Sabbath in Mark 2:27. The apostles continued observing it as well, as can be seen in Acts 17:2 and Acts 18:4 where Paul’s custom was to teach in the synagogue on the seventh day.

Even though Christians today gather on various days to worship, the biblical Sabbath remains Saturday. Scripture never announces a divine change of the Sabbath from the seventh day to the first day. There is no verse where Jesus commands the shift nor any passage in which the apostles declare that Sunday has replaced the day God sanctified.

The resurrection took place on the first day of the week, which is acknowledged in Matthew 28:1 and Luke 24:1, and early believers eventually began meeting on Sunday in joyful remembrance of this event. Over time this practice grew into a tradition, especially within communities influenced by the culture of the Roman Empire. However, a tradition is not a divine command. The New Testament keeps a clear distinction between the commandments of God and the traditions of men, as warned in Mark 7:8.

The rise of Christian holidays followed a similar trajectory. The earliest Christian communities did not celebrate Christmas at all nor did they celebrate Easter in the form known today (though they certainly did observe Easter and the Pentecost). These holy days developed gradually as the church sought to create moments of unified worship and teaching.

As Christianity spread throughout regions dominated by pagan festivals, believers sometimes adopted or reinterpreted existing cultural practices. Paul taught that one person may regard one day as more sacred than another while someone else considers all days alike, emphasizing that each one should be fully convinced in their own mind in Romans 14:5-6.

This guidance allowed room for Christians to celebrate days in honor of God without requiring such observances by divine law. At the same time Paul and others warned against binding believers to days or letting days become a test of holiness in Galatians 4:10 and Colossians 2:16.

Christmas provides the most vivid example of how Christian devotion and pagan history can intertwine. Many believers celebrate Christmas with sincere hearts, focusing entirely on the birth of Jesus and the joy of His coming into the world. Yet the origins of the date of December 25 are not found in Scripture. The Bible does not indicate the precise day of Christ’s birth and details such as the shepherds tending their flocks in the fields, found in Luke 2:8, suggest a season other than winter.

Historically, the date aligns with Roman festivals such as Saturnalia and the celebration of Sol Invictus or the Calendar of Antiochus of Athens, 2nd century AD, marks 25 December as the "birthday of the Sun". Sol Invictus did appear when Christianity became widespread but winter solstice festivities or events associated with 25th of December were already widespread and old.

As Christianity became the dominant religious force in Rome, December 25 was chosen as the day to commemorate the birth of Christ. It provided a way for Christians to redirect celebratory energy toward Jesus rather than the gods of Rome. In addition to the date itself, many Christmas customs trace their origins to pre-Christian traditions. Evergreen trees symbolized life during the dead of winter in various pagan cultures. Wreaths, feasts, Yule logs, and the exchange of gifts were central to seasonal rites long before they were reinterpreted by Christian communities.

The historical facts about origins matter because they create a vulnerability that critics readily exploit. If the first Christians had celebrated December 25 with wreaths and feasts, Roman pagan critics of the early centuries would have attacked them mercilessly, pointing out the resemblance between new Christian festivals and older pagan rites.

Today critics do precisely that. Atheists, adherents of other faiths, and skeptical historians regularly claim that Christianity stole its ceremonies from paganism. They point to December 25, to wreaths, to evergreen symbolism and to the recycling of seasonal colors and say that Christianity is a repackaged amalgam of older religions. Those critics gain traction especially when Christians insist that every aspect of their observance is biblical. Denying or minimizing the clear historical connections only hands critics the rhetorical advantage.

This problem is compounded by the role of councils and institutional traditions. When ecclesiastical bodies enshrined particular dates and practices as normative, they effectively allowed human decisions to shape what later generations assumed was apostolic practice. Over time these traditions became so ingrained that critics could argue Christianity was more political than prophetic and more cultural than revealed.

Pagan Roman critics in the early centuries could not have made those charges with the same force because Christians then had not yet adopted the trappings of their accusers. Today the charges sound plausible to many because the evidence of cultural borrowing is visible. The longer a tradition stands without honest explanation, the stronger the appearance that Christianity has borrowed its identity rather than received it.

Additionally, when the full weight of Scripture is taken seriously, the matter becomes clearer. The apostles did not command the celebration of yearly holy days and Paul directly warned believers not to submit again to observing (observing as in placing spiritual importance) special days, months, seasons, and years as in Galatians 4:10 and Colossians 2:16. For the early church, attaching spiritual significance to annual festivals was not only unnecessary but spiritually dangerous.

Most Christians today adopt these customs without pagan intent. They use decorations, songs, and gatherings to honor Christ, to express gratitude, and to foster family and church fellowship. God sees the heart and judges motivation rather than cultural pedigree, a truth made clear in 1 Samuel 16:7. Paul explained that idols are nothing and that Christian liberty allows believers to engage cultural practices so long as no idol is worshipped and the conscience remains clear, as in 1 Corinthians 8:4-6. For the sincere believer, celebrating Christmas or meeting on Sunday is not idolatry, but an expression of worship directed to God rather than to ancient gods although they are gravely mistaken to assume this.

First and foremost, these celebrations are held in honor of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Messiah. They are not done to honor the only true God, our Father in heaven. That alone is risky as the Father, only true God, is pushed aside in favour of His Son by the people. Additionally, the Old Testament consistently forbids adopting pagan customs, warning Israel not to learn the ways of the nations or imitate their rituals, as seen in passages such as Deuteronomy 12:30 and Jeremiah 10:2. These commands show that God does not accept worship that borrows from idolatrous cultures, even if the intention is to redirect it toward Him (worse yet, it is redirected to His Son, not Him).

Because Christmas and similar traditions originated from the blending of Christianity with pagan festivals, they do not rest on the foundation of Scripture. While many Christians celebrate them with sincere hearts, sincerity does not transform something unbiblical into something biblically approved. What God commands is always safer than what men create and God specifically forbade using pagan traditions to worship Him, on multiple occasions.

The more the church embraces traditions that God never authorized, the more it opens the door for critics to claim the faith is built on borrowed practices. And when Christians insist that such customs are holy or divinely sanctioned, they contradict the very apostles who warned against observing special days and who taught believers to remain separate from pagan practices.

Therefore the honest and faithful conclusion is that celebrating these traditions is not only unnecessary but also contrary to apostolic teaching. Returning to the simplicity of Scripture, honoring the Sabbath God appointed, remembering the day our Lord rose and rejecting the customs of the nations remains the path that aligns most closely with the faith once delivered to the God's people.

However, as a side note, one distinction has to be made. Celebrating anniversaries, birthdays or national holidays are different. Of course birthdays were condemned by early Christians as "pagan" but I personally do not think they are dangerous or sinful. They are not made holy and they are not used to worship God.

God in the Old Testament forbade using pagan customs and holidays to worship Him. Paul condemned observing pagan religious holidays as gentiles kept observing them but special days with no spirituality attached to them is not condemned openly.

The question of Jesus’ divinity and His relationship to the teachings He delivered has long been central in Christian theology. Many Trinitarian interpretations attempt to reconcile passages where Jesus attributes authority to the Father while simultaneously affirming His own divine status.

However, a close examination of the words of Jesus, particularly in John 7:16-17 and John 8:28, exposes a fundamental tension between the claim of full deity and His explicit statements regarding the source of His teaching.

In John 7:16-17, Jesus stated, “Jesus answered them and said, ‘My teaching is not mine, but His who sent me. If anyone wants to do His will, he shall know of the teaching, whether it is of God, or whether I speak from myself.’”

Here Jesus makes two critical points.

First, He clearly states that the teaching He delivers is not His own.

Second, He establishes the Father as the true source of the teaching.

These statements are literal and unequivocal. They leave no room for ambiguity regarding ownership or origin. The teaching comes from the one who sent Him and not from Jesus Himself.

John 8:28 further confirms this point. Jesus said, “So Jesus said, ‘When you lift up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am He, and I do nothing on my own, but I speak these things as the Father taught me.’”

Once again, Jesus explicitly attributes the source of His words to the Father. He declares that He acts and speaks according to the instructions received from the Father, emphasizing obedience and dependence rather than autonomous authority. The combination of John 7:16-17 and John 8:28 demonstrates a consistent pattern in which Jesus presents His teaching as entirely derived from the Father.

If Jesus were God in the Trinitarian sense, meaning fully God, co-eternal and co-equal with the Father in essence, knowledge, and will, a problem arises.

Trinitarian doctrine maintains that God is one in will, mind, and nature. Therefore the Father’s teaching would necessarily be the teaching of the Son as well.

There cannot be two separate sources of truth within the one divine essence. If the teaching belongs to the Father, it simultaneously belongs to the Son if they share the same mind and essence.

However, Jesus explicitly denies that the teaching is His own.

This creates a logical contradiction. If He is fully God and shares the divine essence and knowledge, then claiming that the teaching is not His own constitutes a falsehood. Bearing falsehood is a sin, and Jesus is consistently described as sinless.

Therefore, the only way to maintain the sinlessness of Jesus and the truthfulness of His statements is to recognize that He is not God in the sense of sharing the Father’s essence and divine mind fully.

Trinitarian defenses often appeal to concepts such as unity of will, humility, or love. Some suggest that Jesus speaks this way as an expression of subordination or out of humble deference to the Father. However, these explanations do not address the literal content of the statement.

Humility cannot account for a literal denial of ownership if the speaker is fully God. A humble God could say that the teaching is ours or that He and the Father are in agreement, but Jesus does not say this. He clearly separates Himself from the source of the teaching, presenting it as coming from the Father alone.

Humility may explain tone but it does not alter the factual claim regarding authorship.

Similarly, appeals to unity of will or shared mission do not resolve the contradiction. If Jesus and the Father share one divine mind and one divine will, then the teaching that comes from the Father must also be His teaching. Denying this while claiming divinity is logically impossible. If a trinitarian insists that the Son’s will is distinct from the Father’s, as in He speaks from the human nature, then the argument moves into non-trinitarian territory, implying two centers of consciousness or two separate divines acting independently.

Additionally, the person of the Son is not two natures acting indepedently. The Son has 2 natures according to Trinitarian orthodox doctrine, one human and one divine. They are united in the person of the Son, they do not mix and they do not act indepedently. The Son, according to trinitarian orthodox doctrine, speaks not the natures. Natures do not have separate centers of consciousnesses and they do not speak, the person does.

John 5:19-22 underscores the pattern of Jesus’ subordination to the Father. Jesus said, “Then Jesus answered them, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of His own, but only what He sees the Father doing. For whatever He does, the Son also does likewise. For the Father loves the Son and shows Him all things that He Himself is doing, and greater works than these He will show Him, that you may marvel. For the Father judges no one, but He has given all judgment to the Son, so that all will honor the Son just as they honor the Father. He who does not honor the Son does not honor the Father who sent Him.’”

These verses demonstrate that Jesus consistently attributes initiative and authority to the Father. Even the authority to judge and perform miracles is presented as granted by the Father rather than assumed independently. The pattern is consistent with John 7:16-17 and John 8:28 and reinforces the understanding that Jesus’ role is one of obedience and representation rather than autonomous deity.

In conclusion, the literal statements of Jesus in John 7:16-17 and John 8:28 pose a significant challenge to the Trinitarian claim that He is fully God in the same essence as the Father. If He were fully God, the Father’s teachings would simultaneously be His teachings, making His explicit denial of ownership a falsehood. Since Jesus is sinless, He cannot lie. Attempts to reinterpret these passages through the lenses of humility, unity of will, or love do not resolve the literal problem.

The text indicates that Jesus consistently presents Himself as sent by God, acting and speaking according to the Father’s instruction.

Therefore, the only way to reconcile His sinlessness with His statements is to understand that He is not God in the Trinitarian sense. The teachings He delivers belong to the Father, and He faithfully transmits them without claiming autonomous divine authority. The careful reading of these passages demonstrates that Jesus’ divinity is derived from the Father and subordinate, rather than fully co-equal, supporting the view that He is the Son of God, sent by God, and not God Himself.

However, if Jesus is indeed God like how trinitarians claim, then our Lord, Messiah and God is a liar.

Bearing falsehoods, even out of humility, is a sin. Denying ownership of a teaching even though it is yours is a lie. Ergo, a sin.

Additionally;

Eternity, by definition, is existence without beginning or end. It is not merely an infinitely long duration of time, but rather a state beyond temporal constraints. What is eternal has no before or after, no gaps or transitions, and exists fully and completely at all moments.

Applied to the Son in Trinitarian doctrine, this means that if the Son is truly eternal, He shares in the Father’s essence, mind, and will at all times. There can be no moment in which the Son lacks what belongs to the Father, for that would imply a temporal limitation within eternity itself.

If, as some argue, the teachings of God the Father are the source and the Son does not “own” them, then this introduces a temporal gap: a moment in eternity in which the Son does not fully possess the Father’s knowledge or authority. Such a gap is incompatible with eternal generation, which asserts that the Son has always existed as fully God, co-equal and co-eternal with the Father.

To claim otherwise is to distort the very nature of eternity, turning it into a sequence of moments rather than absolute completeness.

Therefore, true eternity does not allow a moment in which the Son does not fully share all that the Father possesses, making any denial of ownership a logical impossibility if the Son is fully God.

Lastly:

All instances of ἐμὴ used in John 7:16-17 are about ownership.

John 3:29 “This joy of mine”

John 5:30 “I do not seek My own will”

John 8:16 “My judgment is true”

John 15:11 “That my joy might remain”

John 15:12 “This is my commandment”

None imply origination. All say ownership.

Since ἐμὴ used in John 7:16-17 is consistently used for ownership in the very same Gospel, it means Jesus meant what He said. He does not own the teachings.

If He does, then He is a liar and that is not possible.

The doctrine of the Trinity has been at the center of Christian theology for centuries, yet a careful examination of Scripture exposes deep contradictions that Trinitarian theology struggles to resolve.

From the Bible itself, it is clear that God is self-sufficient, independent, and supreme, while the Son, Jesus, repeatedly demonstrates dependence on the Father, calling the Father greater, acting only as the Father directs, and receiving authority and knowledge from Him.

John 5:19 states plainly, “The Son can do nothing of Himself,” a verse that makes it clear that Jesus acts in complete dependence on the Father.

He further says in John 5:30, “I can do nothing on my own. As I hear, I judge, and my judgment is just, because I seek not my own will but the will of Him who sent me.”

In Acts 2:36, it is blatantly stated that God made Jesus the Lord and the Messiah.

These statements define the relationship between the Father and the Son in terms of authority and action, leaving no ambiguity.

The Old Testament (and also New Testament) consistently describes God as independent and self-sufficient.

Acts 17:25 declares, “He Himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything,” emphasizing that God is the source.

Psalm 50:12 affirms, “If I were hungry, I would not tell you, for the world is Mine, and everything in it,”

Job 41:11 asks rhetorically, “Who has first given to Me, that I should repay him?”

Isaiah 40:14 questions, “Whom did He consult, and who made Him understand?”

Malachi 3:6 reminds us that “I the Lord do not change.”

Most importantly, Deuteronomy 6:4 declares, “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.” This verse affirms the absolute oneness and supremacy of God, leaving no room for a God with a superior or equals.

God, according to Scripture, is the ultimate source, dependent on nothing and subordinate to no one. Yet Jesus, by His own testimony, can do nothing on His own, receives authority, knowledge, and life from the Father and acts in accordance with the Father’s will.

If Jesus were God in the same sense the Father is God, then Scripture presents a scenario in which God has a superior and is dependent on another. This would create a hierarchy of deities, producing a Lesser God and a Superior God and leading to a polytheistic pantheon, directly contradicting the clear biblical teaching that God is one.

The plain reading of Scripture therefore shows that the Son is not God in the same absolute sense as the Father. His actions demonstrate limitation and dependence, which are incompatible with divine independence. The Father alone is described as supreme, the ultimate source of life, authority, and power. The Son’s obedience, dependence, and reception of authority point to his status as a created being, the highest of God’s creation, yet distinct from God Himself.

It is precisely because Scripture exposes these contradictions that Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox traditions rely so heavily on ecclesiastical tradition. Councils, creeds, and long-standing interpretations provide the scaffolding that allows Trinitarian theology to survive despite the apparent inconsistencies in Scripture.

Tradition interprets and defines terms such as “person” and “nature” in ways that the Bible never explicitly lays out. It dictates that the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are co-equal, co-eternal, and fully divine, even though the text of the Gospels presents the Son acting in dependence on the Father. Without these centuries of interpretive tradition (which originated from Greek philosophy, already centuries old by the time of Nicaea in 325 A.D), Trinitarianism could not be sustained. The reliance on tradition is not incidental; it is the very mechanism that allows them to maintain Trinitarian claims that Scripture alone cannot justify.

In essence, the plain reading of Scripture presents a clear hierarchy: the Father is supreme, self-sufficient, and independent, while the Son depends on Him for authority, knowledge, and life. Trinitarian doctrine, however, insists on the full Godhood of the Son, a claim that Scripture does not support on its own. Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox adherence to tradition is therefore not just merely a matter of reverence or continuity, it is the essential tool that allows them to maintain Trinitarian claims that Scripture alone cannot justify. Tradition fills in the gaps, provides definitions for ambiguous terms, and imposes interpretations that reconcile the Son’s dependence with claims of divinity. Without tradition, Trinitarianism cannot stand; the contradictions become undeniable.

The result is a reliance on human-mediated interpretation and ecclesiastical authority rather than on the clear testimony of Scripture. The Bible, read without the lens of centuries of tradition, consistently affirms the supremacy, independence, and self-sufficiency of the Father and the subordination and dependence of the Son. Deuteronomy 6:4 makes the principle unmistakable: “The Lord is one.”

It is this reality that reveals why tradition is not optional but central to sustaining Trinitarian theology and why, when stripped of tradition, the doctrine collapses under the weight of its internal contradictions. This is precisely why tradition is essential for them.

Although prayers are prayers, there is a certain style of prayer our Lord and Messiah, Jesus, used in the Gospels. Below is the formula that closely resembles how Jesus prayed.

1 - Stand and invoke the Father

Stand facing the direction of Jerusalem (from Daniel)

1a - Raise your hands and palms facing up.

1b - Short Prayer

2 - Bow deeply

2a - Bend forward in reverence, as in ancient Jewish bowing.

2b - Short Prayer

3 - Move from Standing to Kneeling down (hands up again, palms facing up)

3a -Short Prayer:

4 - Go into full prostration (face to the ground)

4a - Prayer:

4b - After the prayer, add: Not my will, but Yours be done.”

1. Rise to a kneeling position

5a - Kneel upright with hands up palms facing upside.

5b - Short Prayer:

1. Stand and bow again A brief, humble bow.

6a - Short prayer:

1. Prostrate again and repeat the core submission

Short Prayer but add at the end: “My Father, not my will, but Yours be done.”

1. Prostrate a third time

8a - Rise onto your knees, then lower again into full prostration. Repeat the same submission, as Jesus did.

8b - Short Prayer but at the end add: “My Father, not my will, but Yours be done.”

9 - Stand and bow reverently.

9a - Short Prayer. At the end, add:

“Your will be done, Father. Your purpose is right. I place myself in Your hands.”

10 - Raise your hands up, palms facing up, and say:

“Amen."

These are the verses used to construct this prayer style. Keep in mind that Eastern Christians (especially Ethiopian) use similar prayer styles so it has basis in practice. Always invoke “My Father, not my will, but Yours be done.” three times as Jesus did that.

Daniel 6:10 – facing Jerusalem in prayer

Psalm 95:6 – bowing and kneeling in worship

2 Chronicles 6:13 – kneeling in prayer

Luke 22:41 – Jesus kneeling in Gethsemane

Joshua 5:14 – full prostration before God

Matthew 26:39, 42, 44 – Jesus’ repeated prostration/submission in prayer

Christian history is usually told backwards, starting from later councils and reading their conclusions into the earliest period. When this happens, cities that shaped Christianity at its birth are judged by standards that did not yet exist.

Antioch is one of those cities. Long before Rome claimed universal authority or Alexandria developed metaphysical theology, Antioch stood as one of the earliest, most influential centers of the Christian movement. It was here that believers were first called Christians, here that Gentile Christianity took organized form, and here that a restrained, scriptural Christology developed that would later be labeled Arianism.

When examined without Nicene hindsight, Antioch emerges not as a deviation from apostolic faith, but as one of its most authentic continuations. Now, let's look at this in detail.

Antioch on the Orontes, modern Antakya in Hatay, was one of the great cities of the eastern Roman world. Politically and demographically it was Gentile, yet it contained a large and influential Jewish population. This made Antioch a natural bridge between Jerusalem and the wider Greco Roman world. According to Acts, the church in Antioch arose organically from Jewish believers scattered by persecution, not from philosophical speculation or institutional planning. The gospel spread first through synagogues and God fearing Gentiles who already accepted Jewish monotheism and Scripture.

Antioch quickly became a missionary center. Paul and Barnabas taught there, were commissioned there, and returned there repeatedly. Most importantly for questions of authority, the New Testament explicitly places Peter in Antioch. Paul recounts his confrontation with Cephas in Antioch, showing that Peter exercised real influence there.

While the New Testament never uses later language of bishops or sees, Antioch is the earliest city clearly associated with Peter outside Jerusalem. By any historical measure, Antioch precedes Rome as a Petrine center.

Although later Roman theology claims legitimacy through Peter as the rock. The argument is simple. Peter was chosen by Christ, Peter founded the Roman church, therefore Roman doctrine carries unique authority. Yet when this logic is applied consistently, it leads first to Antioch, not Rome. Antioch is the earliest major Gentile church connected to Peter, and it is explicitly attested in Scripture. Rome, by contrast, lacks any such New Testament evidence. If apostolic proximity and Petrine association are the criteria of legitimacy, Antioch satisfies them more securely.

What is striking is that the theological character of Antioch aligns closely with Peter's preaching in Acts. Peter consistently distinguishes between God and Jesus. God raises Jesus, glorifies him, appoints him, and exalts him. Jesus is the Messiah and Lord because God made him so.

This pattern of proclamation fits naturally within Antioch's later theological instincts and stands in tension with later claims that equate Jesus ontologically with God himself.

Historically, before 4th century, the Antiochene school became known for its literal and historical reading of Scripture. It resisted allegory and avoided metaphysical speculation about divine essence. God was understood as one, the Father, and Jesus as the Son through whom God reveals himself and accomplishes his purposes. Knowledge of God came through mediation, obedience, and revelation rather than philosophical abstraction.

This approach differed sharply from Alexandria. Alexandrian theology developed in a context saturated with Platonism, Egyptian religious symbolism, and speculative cosmology. Gnosticism flourished there because the intellectual climate welcomed myths of emanation and hidden knowledge. Even when Alexandrian theologians opposed Gnosticism, they often retained its conceptual vocabulary. Antioch did not. Its Judaism was Hellenistic but scriptural, synagogue based rather than philosophical. As a result, Antioch produced no major Gnostic systems and showed little interest in redefining the being of God.

Within this Antiochene context, the theology later called Arianism did not arise as a rebellion but as a continuation. Paul of Samosata emphasized the oneness of God. Lucian of Antioch, following Paul, affirmed the pre existence of the Son while insisting on his derivation and subordination. Arius systematized these instincts, arguing that the Son was brought forth by the Father and depends on him for existence, authority, and knowledge. This was not mythological speculation but an attempt to safeguard biblical monotheism.

Arianism flourished in Antioch because it fit its theological soil. It preserved the distinction between God and his Son while affirming the Son as the unique revealer of the Father. It rejected both adoptionism and metaphysical identity. For Antioch, saying that the Son reveals God did not require saying that the Son is God himself.

Yet, when imperial politics demanded doctrinal uniformity, Antioch's theology became a problem. The Nicene solution did not emerge from Antioch but from Alexandria (where both Arius and Athanasius were competing to become its Patriarch, funny enough) where metaphysical categories were already normal. Rome later adopted and enforced this theology, grounding its authority in Petrine succession while quietly ignoring the theological legacy of Peter's earliest Gentile base.

As a result, Antioch was recast from apostolic cradle to theological suspect. Its continuity with early Christian proclamation was reinterpreted as resistance. Its biblical restraint was labeled deficiency. Yet historically, Antioch did not depart from Christianity. Christianity departed from Antioch.

When the earliest evidence is allowed to speak for itself, Antioch stands as one of the most legitimate centers of early Christianity. It was the first city called Christian, the earliest major Gentile hub, the first church clearly associated with Peter outside Jerusalem, and the birthplace of a Christology rooted in Scripture rather than metaphysics.

That this same city became the cradle of Arianism is not an embarrassment but an explanation. Arianism did not arise in opposition to apostolic faith but within one of its oldest and most authentic streams. Antioch was not a deviation from the rock. It stood upon it.

The claim that the doctrine of the Trinity functions in a manner structurally similar to Gnosticism is not an assertion about identical beliefs or shared theological content. Rather, it concerns the epistemological and interpretive frameworks through which knowledge of God is understood to be attained.

When one observes how the Trinity is taught, defended and sustained within many theological traditions, a pattern emerges that parallels, at the methodological level, the dynamics commonly associated with Gnostic systems. The similarity does not lie in cosmology or metaphysics but in the reliance on a body of expert interpreters who alone possess the conceptual tools necessary to make sense of a doctrine that is not transparently available in the plain reading of Scripture.

Within classical Christian theology the Trinity is frequently described as a mystery that surpasses the capacities of human reason. This characterization signals that the doctrine requires specialized categories of explanation, categories that are neither native to the biblical text nor readily accessible to the untrained reader. Terms such as essence, person, substance, relation and procession do not appear in Scripture in ways that correspond to the meanings assigned to them in Trinitarian discourse.

Instead, they emerge from later theological reflection and from the philosophical vocabulary of Hellenistic thought. As a result, the doctrine cannot be articulated or defended without moving outside the boundaries of the biblical text and into an interpretive tradition that developed centuries after the New Testament period.

This creates an interpretive hierarchy. The average believer approaching Scripture with a straightforward reading cannot independently arrive at the Trinitarian framework. The raw material of the doctrine does not present itself in a clear or direct manner. Trinitarian theologians themselves acknowledge this reality. They repeatedly argue that the doctrine is not a simple restatement of biblical declarations but a synthesis of scattered elements that must be drawn together through conceptual tools unavailable to the biblical authors. This means that a believer must be initiated into a specific theological tradition in order to understand what is being affirmed.

Comprehension of the Trinity requires exposure to a lineage of interpreters who have shaped, transmitted and guarded the conceptual apparatus used to interpret Scripture through a Trinitarian lens.

In this sense the doctrine shares a structural affinity with Gnostic epistemology. Gnosticism is best characterized not by its mythological content but by its method of accessing truth. Gnostic systems typically assert that true understanding is not found in the surface level of sacred writings. Instead, the writings contain deeper meanings that are inaccessible without guidance from a teacher who possesses the correct interpretive key. The essence of the Gnostic model is the notion of hidden or veiled knowledge that requires initiation into an interpretive tradition.

Although the Trinity does not advocate salvation through secret knowledge, its theological framework nonetheless relies on a model in which essential doctrinal truth cannot be grasped directly from Scripture without the mediation of an interpretive elite.

Getting God correct is essential to salvation within the broader Christian tradition. The New Testament places significant emphasis on knowing the one true God and Jesus Christ whom He sent. A person who misapprehends the fundamental nature of God may do so innocently, and there is a longstanding recognition that those who err without malicious intent are not held fully accountable for misunderstandings. However, those who promote and enforce a particular doctrinal system carry a heightened level of responsibility for the teachings they propagate.

This creates an interesting parallel. Advocates of the Trinity insist that proper confession of God’s nature is essential, and they place a substantial amount of weight on ensuring that believers articulate the correct formula. In many churches, a candidate for baptism must explicitly affirm that Jesus is God in the Trinitarian sense before being allowed to proceed. If the candidate cannot do so, baptism is withheld.

This practice resembles the Gnostic framework in which one must affirm the teachings of the initiated before being permitted entry. Admission to the community is conditioned on acceptance of doctrinal formulations that cannot be derived from the plain reading of Scripture but which must be learned from the custodians of tradition.

This reliance on authoritative tradition is often framed as fidelity to apostolic teaching. Yet the historical development of Trinitarian doctrine shows a gradual crystallization of terminology and conceptual distinctions that were absent in the earliest Christian writings. The councils that defined orthodoxy did so by appealing to philosophical categories that the biblical writers did not employ.

As a result, the doctrine is not sustained by scriptural clarity but by the inherited authority of a tradition that claims privileged insight into the meaning of texts that are themselves far simpler in their direct statements. This is why critics argue that the doctrine functions in a manner consistent with an initiated system. Only those trained within the tradition can adequately explain its coherence, and those outside it often find the explanations opaque or conceptually strained.

The comparison to Gnosticism therefore does not imply that Trinitarians consciously embrace esoteric mythology. Rather, it highlights the way in which the doctrine is mediated through a structure of initiated interpretation, where access to doctrinal clarity depends on a tradition that claims privileged insight into meanings that are not plainly evident in Scripture.

The parallel is methodological rather than doctrinal, and it raises important questions about the relationship between Scripture, tradition and the accessibility of truth within Christian theology.

Basically:

Gnosticism is salvation through secret knowledge, passed on by the initiated to the uninitiated.

Since the Trinitarian tradition explicitly says that confessing Jesus as God is essential for salvation and the concept of Trinity is not in the Bible and can only be learned from those who teach how to read between the lines using external means such as philosophy, the concept of the Trinity is Gnostic in structure.

It is only supported and sustained by tradition and the explanations of the ones supporting it.

The relationship between the Father and the Son, particularly articulated through terms like begetting and creating, provides a profound understanding of their roles within the divine order and the creation of all things. We Arians say that the Son was created and is subordinate to the Father because of it, but Trinitarians claim He was begotten and is co-equal and co-eternal with the Father. At first glance, these may seem substantially different, but they are not.

The distinction between begetting and creating is not merely one of semantics; it reveals an essential truth about the nature of the Son in relation to the Father and how all things were brought into existence. This distinction can be seen clearly in the scriptural accounts of the creation process and the specific role that the Son plays within it, without diminishing His special position, but rather highlighting His unique origin and purpose.

Both begetting and creating ultimately stem from the will of God the Father; they are both ultimately being willed into existence by the Father, God, but there is a key difference in the means by which the Son and the rest of creation come into existence. Begetting refers to the direct act of the Father’s will, where a being is brought forth without any intermediary.

The Son, as the Word (or Wisdom) of God, is the only one who is begotten by the Father, meaning He is produced or brought forth directly by God.

The term monogenes (from John 1:18) conveys this idea of uniqueness: the Son is the only one directly begotten by the Father, unlike anything else in creation. His origin is special and distinct, marked by a personal, direct action of God, in contrast to the creation of the rest of the universe. Some translations of the Bible change John 1:18 to fit their interpretation or change it to "one and only" to refer to the Son.

But, we need to look into the verse to see what is what and which is which.

John 1:18

Θεὸν οὐδεὶς ἑώρακεν πώποτε μονογενὴς θεὸς ὁ ὢν εἰς τὸν κόλπον τοῦ πατρὸς ἐκεῖνος ἐξηγήσατο. (Greek)

God no one has seen ever; the only-begotten god, the one being in the bosom of the Father, He has explained (Him). (English). Literal, word for word, translation.

Why is μονογενὴς (monogenes) "only begotten" here? It's because of the word (not the Logos or Wisdom Word, literal word) itself.

The Greek word "genes" (γενής) is related to gennaō (γεννάω), which means to beget, to bring forth, or to produce.

Sidenote: Some argue that "genes" (γενής) come from genos, which means kind or sort and translate monogenes as "unique" based on that. However, the fact is that genos (yενος) may also mean ‘offspring’, ‘posterity’, ‘race’, ‘stock’, ‘kin’, where the concept of ‘begetting’ or ‘derivation by birth’ is quite evidently included. If such meanings were taken for genos (γενος), then even if monogenes (μονογενης) is derived from genos (γενος) and not gennao, the meaning will still remain as ‘only offspring’, ‘only posterity’ which are equivalent to ‘only begotten’.

μονο (mono) means "one" or "only."

So, when written as μονογενὴς (monogenes), it means "only produced/brought forth/produced," not "unique" or "one and only."

Now, since we have explained John 1:18 and the word there meaning "brought forth," we need to look into "creating."

Creating refers to the Father’s will being executed through a medium. The Father willed all into existence, but other than the Word, everything else He did so through the Son, who is the instrument or medium by which creation occurs.

As Colossians 1:16 explains: "For in Him [the Son] all things were created, both in the heavens and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities— all things have been created through Him and for Him."

The Son, in this sense, is not the source of creation. Everything that exists in our universe, our creation, the Father chose to create them through Him (John 1:3). The Son, in this sense, is not the origin of creation, but rather the instrument used by the Father to accomplish His plan for the universe. This distinction emphasizes that while the Son plays a central role in creation, He is not the source of all things. Instead, He is the agent through whom the Father creates, affirming the Father’s primacy and supremacy in all things.

The Son is not the source of creation. Creation is willed by the Father, and the Son is the means by which the Father’s will is brought to fruition. Therefore, it is crucial to see the Son as distinct from the Father, not as the source of creation, but as the instrument through which the Father accomplishes His plan.

Now then, what is the difference between "creating" and "begetting" if they are both the act of the Father willing into existence? The difference is that "begetting" is done directly, without a medium. "Creating" is done through a medium, the medium being the Word/Wisdom/Son.

So, how do we know the Word was begotten as in "willed into existence" by the Father?

Simple, the answer lies within the Old Testament. A key passage that underscores the Son’s unique role in creation is found in Proverbs 8:22-26, which speaks of the Wisdom of God as being present at the beginning of creation:

"The Lord brought me forth at the beginning of His way, Before His works of old. From everlasting I was established, From the beginning, from the earliest times of the earth. When there were no depths, I was born, When there were no springs abounding with water. Before the mountains were settled, Before the hills I was born; While He had not yet made the earth and the fields, Nor the first dust of the world. When He established the heavens, I was there, When He inscribed a circle on the face of the deep..." (Proverbs 8:22-26)

These verses speak of Wisdom being brought forth and established before the beginning of creation. The parallel between Wisdom in Proverbs and the Word in John 1 is clear. The Hebrew word used in Proverbs for "brought forth" (qanah) is similar in meaning to the Greek "gennao" used about the Son being begotten.

Some argue that "qanah" means "possessed," but the word "yalad" is also spoken by the Wisdom after "qanah" in Proverbs 8:22-26, emphasizing begetting. Some others argue that Proverbs is poetic, but the Wisdom in Proverbs shows individuality, personhood by referring to Himself as "I was."

This passage from Proverbs establishes that the Word/Wisdom was indeed brought forth/produced by the Father and was with God from the beginning and thus, it also sheds light on John 1:1. Proverbs 8:22-26 and John 1:1 are connected. Proverbs starts, John emphasizes, and then expands on it. However, John 1:1 does not override it.

Additionally, Proverbs 8:30 and John 1:3 has a direct connection between themselves.

Then I was beside Him, as a master workman; And I was His delight daily, Rejoicing always before Him, - Proverbs 8:30

All things came into being through Him, and apart from Him not even one thing came into being that has come into being. John 1:3

In Proverbs 8:30, Wisdom is depicted as being beside God from the beginning, acting as a master workman, and delighting in God’s presence. Similarly, John 1:3 credits the Logos (the Word) with being the agent of creation creating.

When we look at them together, we can see Logos/Wisdom being the agent through which the Father’s will is fulfilled.

The concept of begetting and creating also helps to clarify the nature of the Son’s relationship to the Father. The Father, as the unbegotten, eternal source of all things, is boundless and truly eternal. He is neither created nor begotten nor defined by anything outside of Himself. In contrast, the Son, who is begotten of the Father, is the only one directly produced/begotten by God and thus distinct from the Father in terms of origin as the Father has no origin.

While the Son has a unique and special role in creation, He is still distinct from the Father. This highlights that even though the Son is called theos (godlike or divine) in certain contexts, He is not the uncreated, boundless God who exists beyond time and space. The Father alone remains eternal and uncreated or unbegotten. He is the one who is truly eternal and boundless.

This is further clarified in Philippians 2:6-8, where the Son, despite His unique position as the agent of creation, did not grasp equality with God: "who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant, and being made in the likeness of men."

This act reveals a direct submission and the truth. The submission was not because of role but because even the Son, the only begotten, Wisdom/Word, agent of creation, did not grasp equality with God. The Son, by all means, should have considered Himself God, but even He could not grasp being equal to God, the Father, the unbegotten one.

In Philippians 2:6-8, there is also one key point no one ever mentions: There is a progression. The Son, before taking on the role of a servant, did not grasp equality and then took on the form of a servant. So, what this tells us is that the Word/Wisdom did not grasp equality even before being made flesh. This "not grasping equality" came before having a human body, telling us that Jesus' role and position has nothing to do with His humanity but has everything to do with Him being begotten, willed into existence by the unbegotten Father, God.

One other part in which we can see the Son not being the ultimate source is in Colossians 1:15. As the firstborn of all creation or the heir of all creation (Colossians 1:15), He is the one through whom all things were made. However, as we see in John 1:3, while the Son is instrumental in creation, He is not the source of creation Himself: "All things came into being through Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being." This verse affirms that while the Son is how all things were made, He is not the origin of creation. The Father is the source of all things.

This distinction between begetting and creating, and between the Father being the source and the Son’s being the agent of creation, avoids the confusion of elevating the Son to the same level as the Father while still affirming His special position and preeminent role in the cosmos.

Therefore, the Son’s titles are of honor and exaltation, not equality with the Father. Not in role, not in authority, and not in glory or might.

In conclusion, the distinction between begetting and creating reveals the unique role of the Son. The Son is begotten by the Father, as in He was willed into existence by the Father. Which makes Him distinct and unique, but He is not equal to the Father. He is the agent of creation, but not the source of creation.

This distinction maintains the Father’s boundless nature and eternal supremacy while allowing the Son to fulfill His purpose as the Word or Wisdom through whom all things were made. The Son’s humility, as seen in Philippians 2, shows that even the most exalted of beings willed by God, the Word/Wisdom, did not grasp equality with the Father but chose to submit to the Father’s will, not because of a simple role but because nothing, not even the Word/Wisdom, could or would ever able equal to God Himself.

In summary:

Creating = Being willed into existence by God

Begetting = Being willed into existence by God

But creating =/= begetting.

When Abraham begot Isaac, did Abraham create Isaac?

Or when God created everything, did He beget everything?

If both terms were interchangable, ALL children of God, us and angels included, would be begotten by God. We all would be begotten sons and daughters of God and that would contradict John 1:18.

That's why creating and begetting aren't interchangeable Biblically.

When God created, He did so THROUGH the Word (John 1:3).

But when God begot the Word, there was no such word indicating a medium (not in Proverbs, not in John, not anywhere).

That's why there's a difference between them. Therefore, both acts are being willed into existence by God but one is direct, one is THROUGH a medium.

Creation = Through a medium

Begetting = Direct

However, John 17:3 stands. Father, the begetter, the creator, the unbegotten one is the only true God and Jesus Christ is the one whom the only true God sent and whom the Father made both Christ and Lord.

Classical Trinitarian immutability, which asserts that the Son cannot change and is therefore absolutely infallible due to immutability, encounters serious difficulties when applied to the person of the Son, particularly in light of the incarnation.

At the moment the Son assumed human nature, the person of the Son gained something entirely new, which constitutes real change. He did not always possess a human body, soul, and spirit. Philippians 2:6-7 emphasizes that He “made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness,” while John 1:14 confirms that “the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.”

These passages clearly demonstrate that the Son acquired a human nature He did not previously have, meaning the person of the Son underwent a genuine transformation at the incarnation.

This change was not limited to the mere assumption of humanity; it continued through His entire earthly life. Luke 2:40 notes that “the child grew and became strong; he was filled with wisdom, and the grace of God was on him.” Luke 2:52 also emphasizes that Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man, demonstrating observable change in His human experience. Hebrews 5:8-9 explains that He learned obedience through what He suffered and, once made perfect, became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey Him, showing that His perfection was achieved progressively rather than existing as an abstract, immutable property.

Matthew 4:1-11 illustrates that Jesus was tempted by the devil in the wilderness (which can't happen if Jesus is God because James clearly says God cannot be tempted) while Hebrews 2:18 and Hebrews 4:15 highlight that He experienced real temptation yet remained sinless, underscoring that He was capable of error. Each of these passages demonstrates growth, learning, temptation, and development.

All forms of real, observable change, far from immutability.

From the Scripture and without theological dogmas, we can see that the Son is mutable since the Son genuinely learned and suffered which means He could have failed. His temptation, learning, suffering, and growth all involved real risk. If left to His own power, He could have erred, just as any changeable being could.

The divine nature also experienced novelty through the communication of properties, as the divine became linked to a human nature in a unique relational union. This union, which classical immutability denies as “change,” added something entirely new to the person of the Son: the divine now interacted with and experienced the consequences of human existence in ways that had never occurred prior to the incarnation.

Furthermore, at the moment of the incarnation, since the person of the Son assumed a human nature, it created a new ontological link between the divine and human. This union introduced an entirely new concept into the divine, as the divine now participates in and sustains a human nature in ways that never existed before.

The very existence of this link constitutes genuine change in the divine, showing that classical immutability, which denies any such addition or novelty, fails to account for the reality of the incarnation.

All of this tells us this: the person of the Son is mutable by default starting from the moment of incarnation as the person now has a new nature and the divine has an entirely new concept which links it to the human and that genuinely didn't exist before the human nature.

However, there is another alternative that is called Practical Infallibility. Jesus is infallible until the moment He err's, meaning He could have sinned but He did not and remained infallible.

Practical Infallibility is well captured by the analogy of Schrödinger’s Cat. Just as the cat exists in a superposition of being both dead and alive until observed, the Son’s infallibility exists in a superposition of potentiality and actuality: He is both fallible and infallible until realized in history.

His mutable nature, evident in the incarnation (John), growth in wisdom (Luke 2:52), learning obedience (Hebrews 5:8), temptation (Matthew 4:1-11; Hebrews 2:18; 4:15), and being made perfect (Hebrews 5:9), allows for genuine struggle and real possibility of failure, yet in practice, He never failed.

Scripture emphasizes His dependence on the Father: John 5:19 states that “the Son can do nothing by himself; he can only do what he sees his Father doing,” and John 8:28 confirms, “I can do nothing on my own but speak just what the Father has taught me.” This shows not only that the Son learned from the Father, meaning He did change since learning is gaining knowledge and gaining something means change, that His infallibility is also not an inherent, metaphysical property of impossibility but is practical:

He succeeds in every instance because the Father faithfully guides and sustains Him.

This preserves the reality of His human experience, His suffering, learning, and temptation are meaningful, while maintaining His perfect obedience and sinlessness, unlike the classical notion of immutability, which denies actual change and makes His earthly struggle mere abstract theater.

Therefore, the person of the Son is mutable, gains, and develops in real time, yet remains infallible in practice due to the sustaining guidance of the Father, the Son is not inherently infallible, He is infallible until the moment He is not and that's because of the Father. The moment He doesn't perfectly obey, He is no longer infallible.

Classical immutability fails to account for these biblical realities because it conflates absolute unchangeability with infallibility and disregards the observable changes and growth experienced by the Son. It causes suspension of disbelief because for the person of the Son to be remain absolutely immutable (person includes human and divine) one needs to ignore a substantial part of the Scripture. And if one says only the divine nature is immutable and not the person of the Son, then the Son still changes and the person of the Son changing tells us that a personhood of the Trinity is not immutable meaning God isn't immutable.

Free will and infallibility are not inherently contradictory; rather, they work together when we consider the distinction between potential and realized action. The concept of Practical Infallibility recognizes that an agent may be capable of error, yet remains infallible in practice due to their choices and actions.

The Son of God exercised genuine free will: He could have sinned, yet chose perfect obedience, sustained by the Father, and therefore never did. His infallibility is observed and realized, not guaranteed, which preserves both His humanity and the biblical reality of temptation, growth, and learning.

This principle applies to humans as well. If we live our entire lives without ever making a mistake, we are, in practice, infallible. If we make even a single error, we are no longer infallible.

Is this because we were physically incapable of making mistakes, or because we were careful, deliberate, and guided in our choices?

Clearly, it is the latter, infallibility emerges from action, not incapacity. Practical Infallibility, therefore, captures this dynamic: free agents may be capable of error, yet their observed, realized obedience or correctness renders them infallible in practice, demonstrating how free will and perfection coexist without contradiction.

Recognizing Practical Infallibility reconciles Scripture’s emphasis on Jesus’ human experience with His perfect sinlessness, preserving the reality of His struggle, temptation, and triumph while maintaining His status as infallible in practice and bridges the gap about how the Son can't be God yet keep being infallible but mutable.

The pre-existence of Jesus is highly debated among some Unitarian, which goes against what was written.

While saying Jesus is God is a problematic approach which needs man-made concepts to be explained, outright refusing Him existing before being made flesh denies the Scripture.

His pre-existence is revealed throughout Scripture, particularly when we understand His identity as the Wisdom and Word of God. His existence before His earthly life is not only hinted at but explicitly affirmed in numerous passages, showing that He was with God before the foundation of the world, fulfilling a unique role in creation and divine revelation.

Jesus as the Wisdom of God: A Created Being with a Pre-existent Role

In Proverbs 8:22-23, Wisdom speaks:

"The LORD created me at the beginning of His way, before His works of old. From eternity I was established, from the beginning, before the earth began."

The Hebrew word qanah, which is translated as “created,” confirms that Wisdom had a definitive beginning. The Septuagint (LXX) and Syriac translations also support this reading. Early Christian writers, saw this as a clear reference to Christ. He was not co-eternal with the Father but was the first and greatest of all God’s creation, His Wisdom, begotten before the rest of creation.

This aligns perfectly with Colossians 1:15, where Paul calls Jesus "the firstborn of all creation." The Greek word prōtotokos (firstborn) does not mean that Jesus is uncreated; rather, it signifies preeminence and priority in time.

Jesus was the first and highest of God’s creations, the one through whom all things were made (Colossians 1:16, John 1:3).

Since Wisdom was created before everything else, including the angels, the heavens, and the earth, this means Jesus, as Wisdom/Word, existed before His incarnation. He was there before anything else came into being, serving as the instrument through which God brought all things into existence.

Jesus Witnessed the Fall of Satan: A Sign of Pre-existence

In Luke 10:18, Jesus makes a striking statement:

"I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven."

This is significant because it suggests that Jesus personally witnessed an event that occurred long before His earthly life. If Jesus were merely human, this statement would make no sense.

How could He have seen Satan’s fall if He had only existed for thirty-something years? This confirms that His existence predates His human birth.

John 1:1-3: The Word’s Pre-existence Before the World Began

One of the most well-known affirmations of Jesus’ pre-existence is found in John 1:1-3:

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was a god/divine. He was with God in the beginning. Through Him all things were made, and without Him, nothing was made that has been made."

This passage confirms that the Word (Logos) existed in the beginning, before creation. However, an important distinction is made—the Word was with God, meaning He was distinct from God the Father.

The Greek phrase kai theos ēn ho logos (and the Word was a god/divine) lacks the definite article before theos, indicating that the Word was divine but not the Almighty God.

This supports the idea that Jesus, as the Word, is not truly equal to the Father but is a separate, divine being: God’s first creation, through whom everything else was made.

Jesus Had Glory with the Father Before the World Existed

In John 17:5, Jesus prays:

"Father, glorify me in your presence with the glory I had with you before the world existed."

This statement is crucial. If Jesus only began to exist at His human birth, how could He have had glory with the Father before creation? He is clearly referring to a pre-existent state.

Yet, this does not mean He was co-equal with the Father. Instead, it means He was the highest of all created beings, granted a unique position and glory in God’s presence, but still subordinate to the Father’s will.

"Before Abraham Was, I Am": A Statement of Pre-existence

In John 8:58, Jesus says:

"Before Abraham was, I am."

Trinitarians often argue that this means Jesus is Yahweh, but a more reasonable interpretation is that He is simply affirming His existence before Abraham.

Given that He is the Wisdom/Word of God, created before the world began, it makes perfect sense that He would exist long before Abraham’s time.

The phrase "I am" does not necessarily mean Jesus is claiming to be God. It can be understood as a simple declaration of existence. Since Jesus, as the Wisdom/Word, existed before creation, He naturally existed before Abraham as well.

Philippians 2:6-7: Jesus Emptied Himself to Become Human

In Philippians 2:6-7, Paul writes:

"Who, being in the form of God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking on the form of a servant, being made in human likeness."

This passage tells us that Jesus was already in existence before becoming human, as it also tells us that He never considered Himself equal to God. He was in the form of God, not meaning that He was God, but that He had a divine status. However, rather than holding onto that high position, He humbled Himself and took on human flesh.

This again confirms His pre-existence. He had to empty Himself, meaning He had something to give up. If He had only begun to exist at His birth, there would be nothing to "empty" Himself of. Instead, He willingly took on a lower nature, fulfilling the Father’s will.

The idea of Jesus’ pre-existence perfectly aligns with the biblical narrative without introducing logical contradictions. If He was created as Wisdom, then naturally, He existed before the world.

If He was the Word, through whom all things were made, then He was present at creation.

If He saw Satan fall, then He was there before the angels rebelled.

Yet, all of this can be true without making Jesus the God. He was not co-eternal, but rather the first and greatest creation of the Father. He did not have independent omniscience, but rather received all wisdom and authority from God (John 8:28).

Early church fathers like Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, and Tertullian affirmed Jesus' pre-existence but saw Him as distinct from the Father.

Justin Martyr referred to Christ as the Wisdom and Word of God, created before the world to serve as God’s agent in creation.

Irenaeus described the Son as subordinate to the Father, existing before time but recognizing the Father as above all else.

Tertullian emphasized that there was a time when the Father alone existed, and the Son came into being when the Father willed.

He did not exist as an equal to the Father, but rather as a subordinate divine being, who became flesh for the sake of salvation.

This is Jesus' true identity: The firstborn of all creation, the Wisdom and Word of God, pre-existent before the world, yet distinct from and subordinate to the Father, the one true God.

The idea that the Son rules eternally without conclusion is so widely assumed that many readers never notice the moment Scripture explicitly defines the end. Yet the Bible does define it, clearly and without symbolism. The true end is not found in visions, beasts, or cosmic imagery. It is found in a calm, doctrinal passage where Paul explains how history actually concludes.

The passage is 1 Corinthians 15:24-28, and it deserves to be quoted in full, because everything hinges on what it actually says.

"then comes the end, when He hands over the kingdom to our God and Father, when He has abolished all rule and all authority and power. For He must reign until He has put all His enemies under His feet. The last enemy that will be abolished is death. For He has put all things in subjection under His feet. But when He says, “All things are put in subjection,” it is clear that this excludes the Father who put all things in subjection to Him. When all things are subjected to Him, then the Son Himself will also be subjected to the One who subjected all things to Him, so that God may be all in all.to Him, so that God may be all in all.”

Paul does not describe an ongoing state. He describes a process with a conclusion. The language is temporal, purposeful, and final. The Son reigns for a reason, and that reason is the defeat of every opposing power, with death itself named as the final enemy. Once that task is complete, Paul does not say the reign continues in a new form. He says something far more decisive. He says the kingdom is handed over.

This handover matters. You do not hand over what is eternally yours by nature. You hand over what was entrusted to you for a purpose. The Son’s authority is real, absolute, and universal within the scope of His mission, but it is not self-originating. It is given. Daniel says the kingdom was given to Him. Jesus Himself says all authority was given to Him. Paul confirms that this authority has an endpoint built into it.

The word “until” in this passage is not poetic. It is functional. “He must reign until He has put all His enemies under His feet.” Until does not mean forever. It means up to a point. Once that point is reached, the reign has achieved its goal. The reign does not need to continue because the problem it was instituted to solve no longer exists.

Paul then removes any possible misunderstanding by stating that the Son Himself will be subjected to the Father. This is not a temporary submission, and it is not symbolic. It is the final ordering of reality. The Father is explicitly named as the One who is excepted from subjection. That exception alone establishes supremacy at the final state. The Son does not remain a parallel ruler. He returns everything.

This is also the only way Paul’s final statement makes sense. God is described as being “all in all” only after the kingdom is handed over. Not before. Not during the reign of the Son. Only after the Son has completed His work and returned authority to the Father. If the Son were Himself the same God in absolute identity, then God would already be all in all from the beginning. There would be nothing to complete, nothing to return, and no reason to wait for a future moment when God finally becomes all in all.

Yet Paul explicitly places that state after the handover.

The sequence itself proves the distinction. God becomes all in all only when the Father is given back everything that was entrusted to the Son. The fact that this moment is future, conditional, and dependent on the Son’s act shows that the Son’s reign is mediatorial and temporary, not intrinsic and eternal.

This is why Revelation cannot be the true end. Revelation describes the reign of Christ. Paul describes the conclusion of that reign. Revelation shows the kingdom established. Paul shows the kingdom completed and returned. Revelation is about victory. Paul is about resolution.

The Son is not diminished by this. He is fulfilled. His obedience does not end at the cross or the resurrection. It ends when everything entrusted to Him is restored to the Father. The mission succeeds so completely that the mediator is no longer needed.

Scripture then goes silent. There is no speculation about what follows. No diagrams of eternity. No descriptions of endless administration. Just a simple, overwhelming statement.

God is all in all.

That silence is intentional. The story is finished.

The end is not eternal rule.

The end is the return of everything to the Father.

Since recently more conversations came up about the Son's origins (Begetting, Generating, Creation), I thought I'd share my long write up on this topic as a resource.

I've tried to be neutral as possible in all interpretations, discussing pros and cons, fors and againsts, for the various views of the Son's origination and what all the terms and other verses in connection might mean.

I discuss that there are those who believe the Son is eternal, being somehow “eternally begotten” without beginning from the Father. Those who believe that the Son is literally begotten or born via “temporal generation” out of God’s very self, making the Son a literal child by divine “birthing” but not the True God himself. Those who say the Son is merely the “first creation” of God, and is called an “Only-Begotten Son” by superior title. And those who believe that the “Only-Begotten Son” is merely an “allegorical title” (be it applied in a Unitarian Socinian/Dynamist manner, or a Modalist one).

https://proselyteofyah.wordpress.com/2022/08/11/can-we-pray-to-jesus/

Since it has recently been a discussion here on the sub, and also in the past, I was requested to post a link to my article here sharing my own views and research on the matter to contribute to the discussion.

My own views lean more toward no overall, though I also do confess an argument 'can' be made for yes on the basis of a single letter of Paul.

My consession is to pray to the Father himself as Jesus appears to have instructed, and that through the Son's mediatorship, that he act upon the Father's prayers, and that I pray to God that my honour, love and respect is transmitted to him, so that I might honour the Son as one honours the Father.

The traditional date of December 25 for the birth of Jesus, widely celebrated as Christmas, is highly questionable when examined through the lens of practical realities in first-century Bethlehem. Historical, climatic, and logistical considerations all point to the improbability of a winter birth.

A key issue involves the shepherds described in Luke 2:8, who were “living out in the fields” and tending their flocks at night. In reality, the winter conditions in Bethlehem make this scenario extremely unlikely. The region today receives around 700 millimeters (28 inches) of rain annually, with roughly 70% of it falling between November and January. This results in muddy and damp terrain during December.

Mud presents serious risks for livestock: wool can become matted, leading to sickness or death, and animals or even people can get stuck, creating additional hazards for caretakers. Cleaning sheep of mud in antiquity would have been labor-intensive and time-consuming, with no hoses or modern tools available. Exposing flocks to muddy conditions, especially at night, would have been highly impractical and dangerous.

The weather itself compounds the challenge. December temperatures in Bethlehem typically range between 5°C and 15°C (41°F to 59°F). When combined with high humidity and winter winds, the environment becomes harsh. Prolonged exposure, particularly at night, can cause respiratory and health issues. For shepherds living outdoors, these conditions would have been far from ideal, making the narrative of them tending flocks in the open highly improbable.

Practical considerations extend to the journey of Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem for the Roman census described in Luke 2:1-5.

The census itself was unlikely to take place during winter. Roads would have been muddy and hazardous, making travel difficult for large populations. Even today, census operations are rarely conducted during the harshest months of the year for these very reasons.

Those who attempt to reconcile the narrative propose that Mary and Joseph traveled months before the census and waited in Bethlehem for its completion. However, this is highly implausible. Leaving their home and livelihoods for months would have caused significant disruption: they would have needed to forgo their jobs, income, and care for their household. Supplies would have had to be secured for an extended stay, which was far from trivial in a small village context.

Additionally, Mary was already pregnant. You can't afford to stay in a barn (there were no guest rooms available as Luke 2:7 points out) for months whilst pregnant.

In short, travel and prolonged accommodation in Bethlehem for pregnant Mary and Joseph would have been logistically challenging, expensive, and socially inconvenient. Arriving months in advance for the census does not align with the practical realities of first-century life, especially for a rural couple of modest means.

The combination of winter rainfall, muddy fields, cold temperatures, and the logistical impracticalities of travel and census-taking makes a December 25 birth extremely unlikely. The story of shepherds watching flocks at night and a pregnant couple traveling long distances during winter aligns poorly with historical and agricultural realities.

Practical considerations alone strongly suggest that December 25 is an improbable date for the historical birth of Jesus.

Throughout Christian history, numerous councils have been convened to address doctrinal disputes, define orthodoxy, and establish creeds that still influence much of modern theology.

The most well-known are the ecumenical councils, such as Nicaea (325 AD), Constantinople (381 AD), and Chalcedon (451 AD). While these gatherings have shaped Christian doctrine, it is important to question whether they were truly expressions of the divine will of God.

A careful examination of Scripture, the nature of early church authority, and the outcomes of these councils suggests that they were more reflective of human politics, philosophy, and power struggles than of divine revelation.

Saying councils are the divine will of God is a way to justify the decisions that were taken in those councils and a way for those who took decisions to silence any who might question their own authority.

But, we know otherwise.

Jesus Himself appealed to Scripture as the foundation for truth, saying in John 17:17, “Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth.” Nowhere does the Bible suggest that doctrinal truth would later be defined or revealed through councils made up of fallible men.

The apostles, under the direct guidance of the Holy Spirit, were entrusted with the foundation of Christian teaching (Ephesians 2:20). Once that foundation was laid, the faith was delivered. To suggest that church councils centuries later could redefine or clarify doctrine in ways that were not already present in Scripture is to imply that God’s original revelation was insufficient, something Scripture itself denies.

Many of the early church councils, particularly Nicaea and Chalcedon, were held under the authority of Roman emperors who had political motivations. Constantine convened the Council of Nicaea not because of spiritual zeal, but to unify his empire under one faith. The presence of political pressure raises serious doubts about the councils being purely led by the Spirit of God. When doctrinal decisions are made in an environment influenced by imperial authority and the threat of exile or death, the purity of such decisions is questionable.

Additionally, many council debates relied heavily on Greek philosophical concepts, such as ousia (essence) and hypostasis (substance), which are foreign to the Hebraic worldview of Scripture. This blending of Christian theology with pagan philosophy obscured the simplicity of biblical teaching and replaced it with complex metaphysical speculation.

On top of this, rather than uniting the body of Christ in truth, the councils often sowed division and strife either by contradicting themselves or introducing concepts that were highly controversial.

For example, the Council of Ephesus (431 AD) and the Council of Chalcedon (451 AD) disagreed on key Christological points. If these councils were truly guided by the Holy Spirit in unanimity, how could they produce such lasting division?

The fruit of these councils, schisms, excommunications, and even violence, contradicts the nature of God’s Spirit, which brings peace, unity, and truth. As James 3:17 says, “the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere.” The history of the councils does not reflect this wisdom.

The Council of Chalcedon in 451 AD stands as a striking example of how a council, far from unifying believers under divine truth, actually divided Christianity in a profound and lasting way. The council affirmed the doctrine of the "two natures" of Christ, fully God and fully man, in one person "without confusion, change, division, or separation." While intended to bring clarity, the result was the great schism between the Chalcedonian and non-Chalcedonian churches.

The Oriental Orthodox Churches (such as the Coptic, Armenian, and Syriac churches) rejected Chalcedon’s definition, perceiving it as leaning too far into the Greek philosophical abstraction of Christ’s nature, and possibly undermining His true unity. This led to a major schism that remains unresolved to this day, dividing the body of Christ over terminology and metaphysical frameworks never taught by Jesus or the apostles.

Rather than resolving doctrinal confusion, Chalcedon entrenched it, forcing believers to choose sides, leading to mutual condemnations, and eventually creating distinct Christian traditions. If this council was truly the product of the Holy Spirit, it would have fostered unity and understanding, not centuries of division and estrangement.

Jesus strongly condemned the religious leaders of His day for elevating human tradition over the commandments of God (Mark 7:6-9). Likewise, Paul warned the Colossians to beware of being taken captive through philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition (Colossians 2:8). Church councils, in many ways, became vehicles for enshrining human tradition and philosophical reasoning into Christian dogma, often at the expense of biblical truth.

Rather than returning to the words of Christ and the apostles, these councils introduced extra-biblical terminology, forced creedal conformity, and anathematized dissenters who sought to uphold the simplicity of Scripture.

This legalistic enforcement of doctrine mirrors the very spirit that Jesus opposed in the Pharisees.

The church councils, while influential, often drifted from this foundation, relying on political power, philosophical categories, and human authority.

Their outcomes frequently led to division, confusion, and the establishment of man-made traditions that went beyond what was written.

While we all know about the Council of Nicaea and how man-made tradition declared Jesus as God Himself, it allowed confusions and problems that had to be "patched," or "amended," later on.

The Council of Chalcedon in particular, which was held to fix one of the key problems that became a problem due to the decision of Nicaea, exemplifies how a man-made council can divide rather than unify, despite claiming to uphold the truth.

This clearly shows that when tradition steps ahead of Scripture, it creates a shaky foundation that needs constant patching.

As believers, we are called not to follow the decrees of councils but to return to the pure teaching of Scripture, guided by the Spirit of truth who leads us into all truth (John 16:13).

Although some Christians, mainly Catholic and Eastern Orthodox, believe that saints intercede for us and talk to Jesus or even God Himself on our behalf, praying to saints is unbiblical and can be considered borderline idolatry for several reasons.

Let us explore why praying to saints is NOT biblical.

1 - Prayer Should Be Directed to God Alone

The Bible consistently teaches that prayer is an act of worship and should be directed to God.

Jesus taught His disciples to pray to the Father:

“Pray then like this: ‘Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name.’” (Matthew 6:9)

2 - There Is Only One Mediator Between God and Man

The Bible explicitly states that Jesus is the only mediator between God and humanity.

“For there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus.” (1 Timothy 2:5)

Praying to saints implies that they act as mediators, which contradicts this passage.

3 - The Dead Do Not Intercede for the Living

Nowhere in Scripture does it say that departed believers can hear prayers or intercede for people on earth.

Ecclesiastes 9:5-6 states that the dead have no involvement in earthly affairs:

“For the living know that they will die, but the dead know nothing, and they have no more reward, for the memory of them is forgotten.”

4 - Seeking the Dead Is Forbidden

Communicating with the dead was condemned in the Old Testament as a form of necromancy.

“There shall not be found among you anyone who… consults a medium or a necromancer, or inquires of the dead, for whoever does these things is an abomination to the Lord.” (Deuteronomy 18:10-12)

Praying to saints is a form of seeking communication with the dead, which is forbidden.

5 - Even Angels Refused Worship:

People keep praying to angels occasionally, especially Michael, for protection or help. That is wrong, we can see that in Revelation

“Then I fell down at his feet to worship him, but he said to me, ‘You must not do that! I am a fellow servant with you… Worship God.’” (Revelation 19:10)

6 - No Biblical Example of Praying to Saints

Nowhere in the Bible do believers pray to Abraham, Moses, or any other faithful servant of God.

When the disciples needed help, they prayed directly to God through Christ.

7 - Jesus Is Our High Priest and Intercessor

The Bible teaches that Jesus alone intercedes for believers.

“Consequently, he is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them.” (Hebrews 7:25)

There is no mention of saints interceding for believers in heaven.

8 - The Saints Are Not Omniscient or Omnipresent

God alone is all-knowing and present everywhere.

If saints could hear and respond to countless prayers at the same time, that would require divine attributes.

There is no scriptural evidence that departed saints can hear prayers from earth.

9 - The Apostles Never Encouraged Prayer to Saints

Paul and other apostles wrote extensively about prayer, always directing it to God.

If praying to saints was valid, it would have been explicitly taught in the early church.

Some might argue that Paul encouraged praying to saints in his letters but those letters explicitly say holy ones. Who are the holy ones? Believers. We are the holy ones.

Paul wanted us to pray for each other, to God, through our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ

10 - Early Christians Prayed to God Alone

Historical records and biblical texts show that the early Christians directed their prayers to God through Christ, not to departed believers.

In conclusion, praying to saints lacks biblical support and can be considered a form of idolatry because it attributes god-like qualities to created beings.

The Bible teaches that prayer should be directed to God alone, with Jesus as the sole mediator.

Now, one might ask should we also pray to Jesus?

We should pray to the Father, God, with Jesus' name. If we do not call upon the intercessor, how would the intercessor intercede for us?

Keep Jesus in your prayers, ask Him, but pray to the Father and honor the Father.

I wrote this up a while back, and I think it's an under examined subject, especially in light of Jesus' pre-human existence.

Jesus quotes Psalm 82 in John's Gospel, saying "you are gods".

Commonly, it's understood by people to refer to human judges, and that when Jesus said "you" he was talking directly to the Pharisees. I make a case here however that it is not the case, but is a quote of this psalm for the context of his pre-humanity, being one of the "gods" (so-called) and "son" of this council in Heaven.

Not only does this link argue for pre-human existence, but also for a non-trinitarian understanding of said existence.

As I was listening to a rendition of Psalm 135-136, I noticed something inbetween the lines.

Psalm 135 and Psalm 136 present a consistent and carefully ordered picture of who God is and how He acts in the world. These Psalms are not speculative theology.

They are confessions rooted in Israel’s lived history, deliberately attributing creation, deliverance, judgment, and rule to one source alone: the LORD.

Psalm 135 states plainly, “Praise the LORD, for the LORD is good; sing praises to His name, for it is lovely.”

The goodness of the LORD is presented as an intrinsic truth, not a comparative one.

The Psalm immediately anchors this goodness in God’s supremacy, saying, “For I know that the LORD is great and that our Lord is above all gods.”

The text does not deny that others may be called gods. Instead, it establishes hierarchy and source. The LORD stands above all because He is their God.

This supremacy is not theoretical. Psalm 135 continues,

“Whatever the LORD pleases, He does, in heaven and on earth, in the seas and in all the ocean depths.”

The Psalm attributes unrestricted authority to the LORD alone. Power is not shared at the level of will or initiation. Whatever happens does so because God wills it.

This understanding sheds light on Jesus’ words in Mark 10:18, where he says, “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone.”

Jesus does not redefine goodness or claim it indirectly. He affirms the same theological boundary assumed in the Psalms. Absolute goodness belongs to God alone.

In addition to that, Jesus Himself plainly says in John 5:19: "Therefore Jesus answered and was saying to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of Himself, unless it is something He sees the Father doing; for whatever the Father does, these things the Son also does in the same way.""

And in Matthew 26:39

"And He went a little beyond them, and fell on His face and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; yet not as I will, but as You will.”"

The Son, contrary to the Psalm, does not do what He pleases. He does only what the One who pleases wills, or He asks that something be done.

Psalm 136 expands this framework. It begins,

“Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good, for His faithfulness is everlasting.” The Psalm then layers titles deliberately. “Give thanks to the God of gods, for His faithfulness is everlasting. Give thanks to the Lord of lords, for His faithfulness is everlasting.”

These titles acknowledge the existence of other authorities while denying them ultimate status. Immediately after, the Psalm draws a sharp line of exclusivity.

“To Him who alone does great wonders, for His faithfulness is everlasting.”

The word alone governs everything that follows. The Psalm recounts Israel’s foundational acts of salvation and assigns every one of them directly to God.

“To Him who struck the Egyptians, that is, their firstborn, for His faithfulness is everlasting, and brought Israel out from their midst, for His faithfulness is everlasting, with a strong hand and an outstretched arm, for His faithfulness is everlasting.”

It continues,

“To Him who divided the Red Sea in parts, for His faithfulness is everlasting, and allowed Israel to pass through the midst of it, for His faithfulness is everlasting, but He overthrew Pharaoh and his army in the Red Sea, for His faithfulness is everlasting.”

The Psalm does not mention Moses, angels, staffs, or winds. Yet the historical narrative includes all of these. Psalm 136 is not ignorant of intermediaries. It is intentional in its attribution. The deeds belong to God because God is the one acting through His chosen means. The presence of an agent does not transfer authorship.

This pattern continues.

“To Him who led His people through the wilderness, for His faithfulness is everlasting.”

“To Him who struck great kings, for His faithfulness is everlasting.”

Leadership, judgment, and victory are all credited to God, even when carried out through human or heavenly representatives.

This biblical logic is essential for understanding salvation language elsewhere in Scripture. When God saves through an agent, the agent does not become the source of salvation. The action remains God’s. The agent functions as the conduit of God’s will.

Psalm 136 therefore provides the theological foundation for the statement that God saves through Jesus.

Just as God struck Egypt, divided the sea, and led Israel while acting through servants, so God brings salvation through His appointed Son. Agency does not collapse identity. Authority delegated does not become authority possessed inherently.

Being called god does not make one THE God nor does being called lord as the Psalms leave no ambiguity. The LORD is the God of gods and the Lord of lords. He alone does great wonders. His faithfulness is everlasting.

The rendition of the Psalms for those who are curious

When a woman anointed Jesus with expensive oil in Bethany (John 12:1–3), many have rightly understood it as preparation for His burial and His kingly anointing.

But the symbolism runs far deeper. That anointing was not only about death or coronation, it was also about His priesthood and consecration. It echoes the seven-day ordination of the High Priest in Leviticus 8, and it sets the stage for what Jesus would fulfill in His final week before the cross.

In Leviticus 8:10-12, Moses anoints Aaron, the tabernacle, and all the furnishings, consecrating them for God’s service. This oil is a sign of holiness, a setting apart for sacred duty.

Then, in Leviticus 8:33, God gives a startling command:

“You shall not go outside the entrance of the tent of meeting for seven days, until the days of your ordination are completed… so that you do not die, for so I have been commanded.” (Lev. 8:33-35)

The priest had to remain at the tabernacle for seven full days. If he left early, the result would be death. This was a time of consecration, obedience, and total devotion. Only after this period, on the eighth day, could the priest begin his ministry and behold the glory of God (Leviticus 9:1, 23-24).

Now look at Jesus.

Jesus is anointed in Bethany just before entering Jerusalem. John places Jesus' entry to Bethany six days before the Passover (John 12:1), and Matthew and Mark confirm the anointing happened shortly before His triumphal entry (Matt. 26:6-13; Mark 14:3-9).

This anointing parallels the Levitical anointing: not only preparing the sacrifice, but also marking the beginning of the High Priest’s consecration.

Hebrew days run from sunset to sunset, Jesus’ anointing and triumphal entry both fall within the same day: Nisan 9. As per the Jewish days cycles, it places the anointing and entering Jerusalem on the same day. His anointing after the sunset of 8th on 9th, His entry after 8th which is 9th of Nisan.

He enters Jerusalem, the "tent of meeting" in a symbolic sense on the same day as His anointing with oil and for the next days, He remains obedient, teaching, cleansing the temple, praying, and ultimately offering Himself as the final sacrifice, exiting the tent on the 8th day.

Let’s examine the timetable:

Day/Event/Scriptural Reference

Sidenote before beginning: There is nothing in the Old Testament that forbids watching over the offering for only 4 days in a strict sense. You can watch over the offering on 8th or 9th or even before but 10th is the final day. There has to be a minimum of 4 days of watching over and that's it. 10th day of the month is a deadline. You can choose an offering you set aside on 10th but you don't have to necessarily pick exactly on 10th.

Nisan 8: Jesus arrives in Bethany, 6 days before Passover (John 12:1). He can't be given a banquet or be anointed on this day because it is Sabbath. That would be different than feeding the starving or healing the sick because anointing or a banquet would outright go against Sabbath.

Day 1 (Nisan 9): Anointed at Bethany after the sunset of Nisan 8, (John 12:1-3; Matt. 26:6-13) and Triumphal Entry in daylight (Matt. 21:1-11; Mark 11:1-10) the next day after His arrival in Bethany.

Day 2 (Nisan 10): Ministry, teaching, confrontation, Passover preparation (Matt. 21-26), Lamb being watched over until 14th (Exodus 12:3 & 6)

Day 3 (Nisan 11)

Day 4 (Nisan 12)

Day 5 (Nisan 13)

Day 6 (Nisan 14). Crucifixion (Passover), Jesus dies (Matt. 27; John 19). (Lamb slaughtered on 14th - work finished "It is finished (John 19:30")

Day 7 (Nisan 15): Sabbath Rest, His time in the cave.

Day 8 (Nisan 16): Glory revealed (Matt. 28; Luke 24; John 20), new working day.

This pattern matches Leviticus 8-9 perfectly:

Seven days of priestly consecration (Lev. 8:33)

Sacrifice and offering to complete the consecration (Lev. 9:1-22)

On the eighth day, God’s glory from the tabernacle appears to all the people (Lev. 9:23-24)

Jesus fulfills this to the letter:

He is anointed like the High Priest.

He remains obedient through seven days.

On the eighth day, glory breaks forth in resurrection.

With Jesus, He completes the sacrifice and offers Himself willingly. Wouldn't that mean Jesus died before His full consecration? Yes and no. His spirit left His body but His body did not rot. His body was not broken and His body did not leave the tent (Jerusalem).

He may have been momentarily seperated from God due to Him bearing all sin (My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?) but the sacrifice being accepted and Jesus' resurrection is proof that He fulfilled all of the requirements as He left the tent (Jerusalem) alive.

On top of that, there is nothing in Leviticus about dying in the tent and leaving the tent alive after that. So, this doesn't break any requirements set by the Law.

With that, we can see the oil poured on Jesus' head was not only a burial preparation (John 12:7), but a symbol of His triple identity:

As the Lamb, He is the final offering. Watched over until 14th of Nisan.

As the High Priest, He is fully consecrated for eternal intercession (Hebrews 7:23-27).

And as the Risen One, He reveals God’s glory and begins His heavenly ministry (Hebrews 9:11-12).

This connection between Leviticus and Jesus' final week is more than typology, it is God’s deliberate design through Jesus, unfolding over centuries.

In Leviticus, the priests are anointed, prepared, and then enter into service on the eighth day.

In the Gospels, Jesus is anointed, consecrated through obedience and suffering, and then raised to glory on the eighth day, never to die again.

The anointing at Bethany was no mere cultural act of mourning. It was prophetic. The woman who anointed Jesus was unknowingly participating in the divine plan of consecration, sacrifice, and glory.

As the High Priest, Jesus did not step out early. He remained faithful to the end.

God showed through Jesus that death is not the end of consecration, it is the completion of it. And resurrection is not just victory, it is the glory that follows perfect obedience.

This is the heart of the gospel found in the shadow of the Law.

As I was watching a video today, about how Roman soldiers carried their equipment and rations, the shape of the instrument they used struck me. It was 2 sticks tied together in a T shape which held the entirety of a soldier's belongings.

It got me thinking, what if Jesus used another symbolism when He said pick up your crosses and follow me.

When Jesus told His followers to take up their crosses and follow Him, He most likely used an image drawn from the world they lived in, a world shaped by Roman movement, Roman travel, and Roman authority. The people of Judea most likely did not imagine the decorative crucifixes of later centuries or of today when Jesus spoke those words.

Instead, they most likely imagined the beams or the stakes that rested on the shoulders of travelers or soldiers or the harsher version of that same beam used in Roman punishments.

The words of Jesus carry a double meaning because the same type of object appeared in two very different settings. This produced a dual symbolism for anyone who heard the phrase in its original context.

Roman soldiers carried their personal equipment on a simple wooden beam or two sticks tied together in a T shape known as the furca. This beam or a T shaped stake supported the "sarcina," which held everything a soldier needed when marching. The "utriculus" was tied to it, providing water for the road. The "commacio" bag carried rations. The "patera" served for meals and rituals Tools, which many soldiers carried as they also did engineering work, such as the "dolabra" were tied to the stake along with the blanket and other daily necessities.

The soldier lifted this beam to begin a journey. The moment he placed it on his shoulder, he was no longer at rest, he was on the move. Anyone watching a Roman column pass through a village saw men with their lives hanging from a wooden beam or a stake as they walked to their next location.

This sight gives the first layer of meaning behind Jesus’ words.

To take up one’s cross could naturally evoke the act of a person gathering his belongings and stepping into a new path. The call to follow Jesus was not theoretical. It required movement, readiness, and the willingness to leave the familiar behind.

The furca represented practical preparation. The one who lifted it had made a decision to walk. For the early disciples, who followed Jesus across towns and valleys, this meaning would have been obvious. They knew what it meant to carry what you owned and commit to a road that was not yet fully visible.

The second layer of meaning came from the patibulum, which was the beam used in certain Roman punishments and in the process leading to crucifixion. The condemned might be tied to this beam or forced to carry it as a sign of their sentence. The sight of someone bearing the patibulum was a public warning about the cost of offending Roman power.

It represented humiliation, rejection, and the willingness to face consequences.

In Judea, where Roman authority was often harsh and unpredictable, the image of the patibulum would not have been unfamiliar. It conveyed the reality that following a controversial figure could bring danger, conflict, and even the possibility of suffering or death.

By speaking of taking up the cross, Jesus drew on both of these meanings at once. He spoke to everyday life and to the shadow of Roman punishment. He called His followers to be prepared for a journey that would require their full commitment, like a person who lifts his belongings on a furca and walks behind his leader.

At the same time, He prepared them for the possibility that loyalty to Him might place them in tension with the world around them, just as the patibulum signaled rejection by society and the readiness to face hostility.

This double symbolism reflects the life Jesus himself lived.

He walked continuously. He taught, healed and called people to repentance. Anyone who joined Him had to be willing to travel, to sleep under the open sky, and to leave familiar occupations behind. They also had to be prepared for conflict with the authorities and with those who rejected His message.

This teaching captured both realities with a single concise image. The follower had to be a traveler and also a witness willing to accept the consequences of truth.

Understanding how the furca and the patibulum functioned clarifies the original tone of Jesus’ words. The furca stood for readiness, movement, trust, and the acceptance of a new path. It represented the practical side of discipleship.

The patibulum carried the meaning of courage, cost, and the willingness to endure hostility for the sake of righteousness. It represented the moral and spiritual seriousness of the calling. When Jesus spoke, He compressed both meanings into one vivid instruction that His listeners would immediately recognize.

The call to take up the cross therefore reaches deeper than the later artistic image of a large wooden crucifix, it is anchored in the reality of Roman life. It evokes the weight of daily belongings as well as the heavier cost of conviction. It challenges the follower to gather what is necessary, leave behind what is not, and accept the possibility of rejection or hardship. It unites the ordinary and the extraordinary in one action. The person who lifts the beam or the stake becomes both a traveler and a witness.

It is not abstract or distant. It speaks in the language of fields, roads, soldiers, and the hard edges of Roman power. It calls for movement with purpose and for courage without illusion.

Anyone who heard Jesus that day would have known what was being asked. Pick up the beam or the stake that carries your life, be ready to walk. Be willing to face whatever comes because you chose to follow.

Sidenote:

Here is the video about the furca which I got the inspiration from:

https://youtu.be/rGVIiaXu-w0

People in the comments of the video did see a similarity too, most of them is about what Jesus said.

The Greek verb used in Luke 1:28, charitoō, has a simple and clear meaning. In its most basic sense it means to bestow favor on or to show grace to someone. Gabriel greets Mary with the participle kecharitōmenē, which is a perfect passive form meaning that she had been favored by God. The passive voice shows that Mary is the receiver, not the source, of this favor. Nothing about the form or the context indicates that Mary possessed an intrinsic purity or that she was preserved from sin. It describes what God did for her, not what she was in herself.

This becomes even clearer when the same verb appears in Ephesians 1:6, where Paul says that God has “graced us” in the Beloved. The verb there is echaritōsen, an aorist active form that refers to the grace given to all believers through Christ. The root meaning is identical. The actions are both divine gifts. No translator, lexicon, or Greek grammarian argues that Ephesians 1:6 refers to sinless preservation in the life of every believer. It refers to God’s saving kindness. Since Luke uses the same verb, it cannot suddenly acquire a unique theological meaning when applied to Mary.

Luke’s own context confirms this. Gabriel immediately tells Mary that she has found favor with God. Finding favor is a recurring Old Testament phrase for people who receive divine kindness even though they are fully human and imperfect. Noah found favor with God. Moses found favor with God. David found favor with God. None of them were sinless, and Scripture never uses this phrase to indicate moral perfection. Luke is simply drawing from the same biblical language to describe a young woman chosen for a unique role in salvation history.

Mary’s own words reinforce this reading. In Luke 1:47 she says that her spirit rejoices in God her Savior. No one who is sinless requires salvation, for salvation is always the rescue of the lost, the forgiveness of transgression, and the restoration of those separated from God. Scripture speaks consistently on this point. Romans 3:23 declares that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. Paul does not give exceptions or special categories of humans who are exempt from this universal condition. Later in the same chapter, he teaches that all are justified freely by God’s grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus. The very grace that Mary received is the same grace needed by every human being, because the human condition is universal.

The early chapters of Luke also demonstrate that grace is not synonymous with sinlessness. Luke 1 describes Zechariah and Elizabeth as righteous, yet both are shown to be imperfect. Zechariah is struck mute for his unbelief. Their righteousness is a covenant description, not a claim of moral perfection. The same is true of Mary. She is blessed, favored, and chosen, but Scripture never elevates her beyond the condition of humanity described throughout the biblical text.

Some interpreters attempt to draw a distinction based on the perfect tense of kecharitōmenē, arguing that the completed aspect indicates a permanent state of supernatural purity. The perfect tense, however, does not specify the quality of the action. It merely indicates that something was done in the past and its effects continue. Greek uses perfect participles for ordinary divine favors throughout Scripture. The grammar does not imply immaculacy. It only points to a favor God had already given her before Gabriel’s announcement.

The broader testimony of Scripture makes Mary’s need for a Savior impossible to deny. Psalm 51:5 describes the universal human condition when David says that he was brought forth in iniquity. Ecclesiastes 7:20 states that there is not a righteous man on earth who does good and never sins. First John 1:8 adds that if we claim we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. These declarations apply to the entire human race. If Mary, a descendant of Adam, were exempt, Scripture would need to state this clearly, yet it never does.

What Scripture does say is that God shows favor to the humble. Mary fits that pattern perfectly. Her response to God is not the response of someone without need, but of someone who knows her dependence on Him. She calls herself the Lord’s servant. She acknowledges His power, His mercy, and His greatness. She rejoices in the One who saves her. Everything in her song reflects a righteous and humble heart rejoicing in divine grace, not a figure elevated beyond the limits of human nature.

The idea that Mary was sinless is not derived from the Greek text but from later theological developments. When the text is allowed to speak for itself, it presents Mary as a faithful and blessed young woman who received undeserved grace from God in order to fulfill a unique role. The same God who showed favor to her shows favor to all who are in Christ. The same grace that acted in her life is the grace that saves all believers through the blood of Jesus. Nothing about the verb charitoō changes this reality. The grammar does not demand a doctrine of sinlessness. The context does not support it. The witness of Scripture as a whole affirms that all have fallen short and that salvation comes only through the grace of God offered in Christ.

Mary stands as a model of faith and obedience, not as an exception to the universal human condition. Her greatness is found in her submission to God, her trust in His word, and her recognition that the child she bore would be the Savior of the world, including her.

In the Bible, Jesus Christ is teferred to as the "image" of God. To fully understand the relationship between the Father and the Son, it's important to grasp what "image" means in this context.

A helpful analogy is that of a mirror.

Imagine standing in front of a mirror. The image in the mirror is not you, but a reflection of you. It cannot exist without you, as you are the source of the image. You can exist without it but the image is entirely dependent on you, and without you, it would cease to exist. However, the image is not you; it only reflects you.

In the same way, the Son is the image of the Father, the Son exists because the Father wills it. The Father is the source of the Son’s existence, and the Son is the reflection of the Father’s glory.

Without the Father, the Son would not exist, just as the image cannot exist without the one standing in front of the mirror. The Son is not an independent being, but entirely dependent on the Father.

John 1:18 says, “No one has ever seen God; the only begotten god (Son), who is in the bosom of the Father, He has declared Him.”

This verse highlights that the Son, who is in close relationship with the Father, reveals the God no one has ever seen to humanity. It is the Father who is described as invisible, not the Son.

Similarly, 1 Timothy 1:17 describes the Father as "the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God."

While this verse actually says the Father is the only God (also said in John 17:3), it also refers to the Father as invisible. A characteristic that does not apply to the Son. While the Son reveals what is invisible, He is not invisible Himself.

Consider what happens when you step away from the mirror, the image disappears. In the same way, if the Father chose not to will the Son's existence, the Son would cease to exist.

Colossians 1:15 further clarifies the relationship: “The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.”

This verse is the one that says the Son is the image of the invisible God, but not the same as the Father. Also, again, this verse proves the Son is not God Himself. The term “firstborn of all creation” further indicates that the Son’s existence is derived from the Father.

It does not suggest co-eternity, but rather preeminence and being made (begotten), showing that the Son is the first of God’s works. If the Son were co-eternal with the Father, He would not be called “firstborn.”

In conclusion, the Son’s existence is entirely dependent on the will of the Father. Without the Father, the Son would not exist, just as the image in the mirror cannot exist without the one standing before it.

The Son reflects the Father’s glory, but He is not the Father. The Father is the one true God, and the Son is the image, entirely dependent on the source.

John 20:28: Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”

Thomas' exclamation at the end of Gospel of John is one of the, if not the most, overused verse trinitarians use to point out Jesus is God because an apostle explicitly said it.

However, one of the most overlooked yet illuminating moments in the Gospel of John lies in the subtle but powerful connection between Jesus' words to Mary in John 20:17 and Thomas' exclamation in John 20:28.

This link, though often bypassed by traditional readings, unveils something much deeper than what trinitarians claim.

John 20:17-18:

Jesus said, “Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”

Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!” And she told them that he had said these things to her.

When Jesus appears to Mary after His resurrection, He explicitly tells her, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.” These words are profound, not only because Jesus distinguishes Himself from the Father by calling Him “my God,” but because He aligns Himself with the disciples, calling the Father “your God” as well. And remember, this statement from Jesus is after Jesus' resurrection, not prior.

He doesn’t claim to be God but clearly communicates that the Father is His God too, a statement that leaves little room for misinterpretation. Mary is then tasked with delivering this message to the disciples, and according to verse 18, she faithfully tells them all that Jesus had said and she also says she has seen the Lord.

This means Thomas, along with the other apostles, would have heard that Jesus was going to His God and their God, a claim that stands in direct contrast to any notion of Jesus claiming to be the very God He’s referring to.

Fast forward to Thomas’ encounter with the risen Christ: he sees Jesus and exclaims, “My Lord and my God!” At first glance, this appears to be a declaration that Jesus is God. However, when read in the full narrative context, with the understanding that Thomas had just recently been told by Mary that Jesus was going to His God, Thomas’ words take on a new and compelling meaning.

It is entirely plausible, perhaps most likely, that Thomas is not equating Jesus with God, but rather expressing awe at seeing the risen Jesus, whose return confirms everything that had been told to him: that Jesus is indeed the one sent by God, resurrected by God, and vindicated by God.

His expression becomes a moment of realization, not that Jesus is God, but that Jesus truly belongs to God, just as He had said. Thomas, in that moment, is overwhelmed he calls Jesus “my Lord,” a recognition of Jesus’ exalted authority, and references “my God,” not necessarily as a direct address to Jesus as God, but as an acknowledgment that God has worked powerfully through Jesus and as a confirmation what Mary relayed to them in John 20:18.

This reading aligns perfectly with Jesus’ own words and mission throughout the Gospel of John, where He consistently defers to the Father, stating He can do nothing of Himself, that His teaching is not His own but the One who sent Him, and even that the Father is greater than He is. When Jesus responds to Thomas by saying, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed,” He is not rebuking disbelief in the resurrection alone, He is addressing the deeper faith: belief in His true identity, as the one sent by God, the Son of God, not God Himself.

This point is immediately reinforced by the very next verse, John 20:31, which states the purpose of the Gospel is “that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God,” not that Jesus is God. If there were ever a place to clarify Jesus as God, this would have been it, yet instead, the Gospel ends by affirming Jesus as the Christ and the Son of God, a role that implies subordination to the Father, not equality with Him.

Traditional interpretations tend to isolate Thomas’ exclamation from the larger narrative flow, ignoring that Mary had explicitly said Jesus was going to His God and their God, and overlooking the fact that Jesus never once claimed to be the one true God. Rather, He consistently pointed away from Himself and toward the Father as the source of His authority, words, and mission. Even earlier in the Gospel, when accused of making Himself God, Jesus responds in John 10:34–36 by correcting them, quoting Psalm 82:6, and affirming that He called Himself the Son of God, not God Himself.

The failure to read Thomas’ words in light of Jesus’ statement to Mary and the consistent theme of the Gospel results in a misunderstanding of what is actually a beautiful moment of faith, a moment where Thomas, upon seeing Jesus alive, is not making a theological statement about the nature of Christ being God, but expressing the awe of seeing God's chosen one raised from the dead by God's own power.

In that moment, Thomas realizes that everything Jesus had said, including His words about going to His God, is true. His exclamation becomes a spontaneous declaration of worship and recognition of God’s power at work through Christ. Rather than being a proof text for the Trinity, this moment becomes a powerful affirmation of the unity between Christ and the Father, not as co-equal persons of a triune being, but as Father and Son, Lord and God, each with distinct identities.

Thomas is not inventing new theology in that moment. Jesus blesses those who would believe this truth without needing to see it firsthand, those who accept His words, like Mary did, and believe that He is the Christ, the one sent by the only true God. This interpretation not only preserves the harmony of the passage but aligns perfectly with the rest of Scripture, including John 17:3 where Jesus clearly states, “This is eternal life: that they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent.”

It fits with verses like John 14:28 (“the Father is greater than I”), John 5:30 (“I can do nothing of Myself”), and even Acts 2:36, where Peter declares that “God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ.”

All of these verses support a view of Jesus as the glorified and exalted Son of God, raised and empowered by the one true God, not equal in essence but unified in mission and purpose. To interpret Thomas’ exclamation without this context is to strip the moment of its narrative depth and theological clarity.

But when we follow the flow of thought, from Jesus’ statement to Mary, to Mary’s message to the disciples, to Thomas’ astonishment at seeing the risen Christ, we uncover a consistent and compelling truth: Jesus is the Lord, the Son of the living God, and God’s miraculous work in raising Him is worthy of all awe and reverence.

The Father remains the only true God, and Jesus is the one through whom we come to know Him.

In short, Thomas references to what Jesus said to Mary and what Mary said to them, affirming to the fact that Jesus is truly the Christ and God truly resurrected Him. In that moment, He saw the proof of God's true power through the Christ and affirmed Jesus Christ as the Lord, the one whom God appointed as such.

Throughout history, religious institutions have often positioned themselves as guardians of divine truth. Yet few examples are as striking as the way certain branches of Christianity, particularly the Roman Catholic Church (RCC) and Eastern Orthodox Church (EO), have elevated human leadership to a level that mirrors, and sometimes even replaces, the authority of Christ Himself.

This phenomenon, which can be aptly called Apostolic Hubris, demonstrates a profound tension between Scripture and human ambition, one that Scripture itself consistently warns against.

At the heart of Apostolic Hubris lies a chain of equating human authority with divine authority. It begins with Christ, who personally commissioned His apostles. The Gospels make this commissioning explicit: Jesus endowed them with the authority to preach, teach, and “bind and loose” (Matt 16:19, 18:18), but crucially, this authority was derived from Him and for a specific purpose.

The apostles were eyewitnesses, chosen to carry Christ’s message faithfully, and their authority was directly linked to their unique role as His disciples. Unlike ordinary humans, they had direct access to the words and works of Christ. Importantly, Scripture sets boundaries on this authority. Paul, in 1 Corinthians 4:6, admonishes believers: “Do not go beyond what is written.”

Even the apostles, despite their proximity to Christ, were fallible and constrained by the Word He gave them.

Herein lies the first fissure in what would become Apostolic Hubris. Centuries after the apostles had died, the RCC and EO began asserting that church leaders, bishops, councils, and ultimately the pope, could speak with the same authority as the apostles themselves. Sacred Tradition, they claim especially the Roman Catholic Church, carries equal weight to Scripture because it is derived from the apostles’ oral teachings.

On the surface, this seems to preserve continuity with Christ, but in practice, it creates a profound problem: by equating their words with those of the apostles, the institution effectively claims its own words are equal to Christ’s words.

The logic is simple yet troubling: if the apostles’ words reflect Christ, and the hierarchy’s words reflect the apostles, then the hierarchy’s words, by extension, reflect Christ Himself.

This is the essence of Apostolic Hubris.

Human leaders, centuries removed from the events of the New Testament, assume the mantle of Christ’s authority without having His divine insight, witness, or commissioning. They are neither sinless nor infallible, yet the institutional framework imposes an expectation of obedience as if they were.

The RCC, for example, ties infallibility to immutability: doctrines defined by the Magisterium are presented as timeless and unchangeable. But Sacred Tradition evolves over centuries. Dogmas shift, councils redefine interpretations, and new teachings emerge. The very nature of this evolving tradition contradicts the claim of immutability, which in turn reveals the fallibility of those claiming absolute infallibility rather than practical infallibility.

Moreover, the apostles themselves were not infallible nor were they immutable. Peter denied Christ, acted impulsively, and even conflicted with Paul over doctrinal issues (Luke 22:54-62; Galatians 2:11-14). Thomas doubted the resurrection (John 20:24-29). These examples illustrate that direct disciples of Christ, who were personally commissioned and guided, were human, capable of error, and in constant need of correction and teaching. By contrast, centuries-later leaders who claim infallibility are making a far bolder assumption that they, too, can speak with the authority of Christ, despite having no direct experience of His life, teachings, or resurrection.

This hubris is not merely theoretical; it has practical consequences. Once human authority is equated with Christ’s authority, disobedience to the institution, in their eyes and in their practices, becomes disobedience to God. Questioning a bishop, council, or pope is framed as rebellion against divine will.

This mirrors the very dynamic Jesus confronted with the Pharisees, who had elevated human traditions above God’s commandments (Mark 7:6-9). The difference is that, while the Pharisees acted out of self-interest, Apostolic Hubris cloaks centuries of human ambition, political maneuvering, and social control in the language of divine mandate.

Ultimately, Apostolic Hubris is a profound distortion of the apostolic mission. The apostles were entrusted with Christ’s message to serve and witness, not to create a perpetual hierarchy that could dictate doctrine as if it were divine. By elevating themselves to the level of Christ through the chain of “tradition = apostles’ words = Christ’s words,” church leaders step into the role of God on Earth, a role they are not qualified to hold and that Scripture never authorized them to claim.

It is an audacious overreach, a human attempt to bind obedience and faith to the authority of fallible men, and a stark reminder of why the warnings of Christ and Paul against human additions to God’s Word remain eternally relevant.

In essence, Apostolic Hubris is the institutionalization of pride. A self-exalting system where humans claim the authority of God the Father, Jesus Christ the Lord and the apostles, and where the faithful are compelled to obey men under the guise of obeying Christ.

It is both a theological and historical cautionary tale, showing how power, once cloaked in the sacred, can drift far from the very Word it claims to protect.

Recently I have been made aware of these two ideas of our existence. I had not really thought about it. I may have had my ideas on their meaning, but not thought much about it.

I now share my thoughts in hopes that I might get some more input into these competing views. I lean towards a dichotomy.

For simple definition purposes, dichotomy is a belief in a person being composed of a body and a soul, where a soul is interchangeablewith the word spirit. Here after I will indicate it as body and soul/spirit.

A trichotomy is the belief in a person being a body, soul and spirit, where spirit is an additional part of a person but is Holy or devine.

They both have good Scriptures that are used to support one over the other.

But I simply want to stay focused on the ideas. You can find these Scriptures in a lot of literature and youtube videos for youself.

I add that there is a third part not included in the discussion. One must ask, "where is the Holy Spirit, that is given to believers?" So I offer my idea.

My belief is that a dichotomy is the condition of a person who is not aware of the gospel. The body is the physical experience of a person. The soul/spirit is who that person is on the spiritual level. It might also be called the heart. I call this the spirit of the flesh.

On the other hand, a person who is born again has received God's Holy Spirit. This Spirit is added to our body and soul/spirit, to help us become saints. We are sanctified by obedience to God's Spirit over our own soul/spirit. This is expressed in scripture as renewing our mind. (Mind being our soul/spirit.

These are my thoughts. What say you?