How Jesus Became God

Today we’re going to trace how a Jewish rabbi got promoted—over centuries—from messiah to Son of God to God himself. This is the story of how Jesus became God.

From Rebel Rabbi to Second Person of the Trinity

Jesus never clearly claimed to be God in the earliest Gospel accounts—and those who followed him wrestled for centuries with what titles like “Son of God” really meant.

He didn’t preach the doctrine of the Trinity.
He didn’t start a religion with himself at the center.

And yet, here we are—two thousand years later—with most every human alive assuming that Jesus either is God or claimed to be.

I’m not saying Jesus wasn’t divine.
I’m saying that claim didn’t fall out of the sky on the first Easter morning fully formed.

It evolved.
Like everything else.

Today we’re going to trace how a Jewish rabbi got promoted—over centuries—from messiah to Son of God to God himself.

This is the story of how Jesus became God.

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He didn’t start with a halo

Historically speaking, Jesus was a Jewish preacher in first-century Roman-occupied Palestine.

He almost surely existed.
But he wrote nothing down.
Every single thing we know—or assume to know—about Jesus of Nazareth is pieced together from the documents, interpretations, and traditions that survived.

According to early sources, he spoke in parables, clashed with religious authorities, and proclaimed the coming “kingdom of God.” He was remembered as a teacher, a healer, and a prophet.

Whether those healings actually happened or were legendary retellings doesn’t change this point: the early movement believed something powerful happened around him.

However, as scholars like Marcus Borg, John Dominic Crossan, and Bart Ehrman point out, none of this would have immediately signaled divinity—not in his world.

In Jewish tradition, even the term “Messiah” simply meant anointed one—a human agent of God, like a king or prophet.

And titles like Son of God? Those were used for emperors and kings. They meant favored by God, not equal to God.

So when Jesus' followers used them, they likely weren’t claiming divinity—at least not yet.

But the story was already shifting.

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Resurrection changed everything

When Jesus was executed, the movement should’ve died with him.

Messiahs don’t get crucified.
Or at least, they aren’t supposed to.

But his earliest followers became convinced—against all odds—that death hadn’t had the last word. That he had been raised. That they had seen him. Experienced him.

Now, whether that was a bodily resurrection, a visionary experience, or a deep communal conviction depends on how you interpret the story. Some see it as metaphor. Others see it as myth or memory. Still others believe something real and transformative happened.

What matters for our purposes is this:

The people who launched the movement in his name genuinely believed he had been raised from the dead.

And that belief changed everything.

Resurrection reframed Jesus.
He hadn’t been defeated. He’d been vindicated.
And that kind of reversal made people start rethinking who he really was.

After all—coming back from the dead?
That’s a pretty God-like move.

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Paul takes the story further

The apostle Paul wrote the earliest surviving Christian documents. Even though his letters show up after the Gospels in your Bible, they were written decades earlier—around 50–60 CE.

And already, Jesus is being elevated. Paul calls him the “image of the invisible God” and says that after the crucifixion, God raised him and gave him glory.

But Paul doesn’t preach the Trinity. Some have retrofitted that idea onto his letters, but it’s a stretch. He doesn’t say Jesus is God—he says God exalted him.

In Philippians 2, Paul quotes what most scholars believe was an early Christian hymn—something his readers would’ve already known. That matters. It gives us a glimpse into how the very first Jesus-followers were talking about him.

The hymn says Jesus was “in the form of God” but didn’t cling to equality. Instead, he emptied himself, became human, and obeyed—even to death. Then, God exalted him and gave him the name above all names.

Some say this proves Jesus was God. Others say it proves he wasn’t. Either way, it’s not Trinitarian theology yet. But it’s getting there.

Paul seems to see Jesus as divine in some sense—but still clearly distinct from God the Father. It’s a moment of transition. Jesus is more than human. But not yet the second person of a triune God.

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The Gospels: One story, four upgrades

The four Gospels were written over a span of decades, each building on earlier traditions and responding to the needs of their communities. And with each one, Jesus gets upgraded.

• Mark (c. 70 CE)
  The earliest Gospel. Jesus is deeply human—he gets baptized, prays, and suffers. He’s powerful, yes, and remembered as a healer and exorcist. But he also expresses doubt and fear. He never comes out and directly claims divinity the way later creeds would describe it.

• Matthew and Luke (c. 80–90 CE)
  These two build on Mark but add new layers. Virgin birth narratives. Angelic announcements. Genealogies tying Jesus to David and Abraham. He’s still not directly claiming divinity, but he’s clearly portrayed as God’s chosen one.

• John (c. 95–100 CE)
  By the time we get to John, the theological evolution is unmistakable. Jesus is no longer just the Messiah—he’s the Logos, the Word who was with God and was God from the beginning. He performs signs, delivers long theological discourses, and says things like “I and the Father are one.”

Throughout the Gospels, Jesus often refers to himself as the “Son of Man.”
In Hebrew, that phrase could simply mean human being—but it also echoes a mysterious, exalted figure from Daniel 7 who is given divine authority. Some see this as a subtle claim to divinity. Others, including scholars like Crossan and Ehrman, view it more as an apocalyptic role, not a declaration of equality with God.

That progression—from Mark’s suffering servant to John’s cosmic Christ—seems to show an early high Christology solidifying over time. It’s an evolution—albeit a rather fast one.

It’s a story unfolding.

Personally, I see little evidence that the historical Jesus saw himself as equal to God.
Nor do I see it in the earliest accounts of his life.
Of course, I could be wrong.
Perhaps he did see himself that way.

But if he did, it’s not clear from the evidence we have.

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The Trinity was born in conflict

Early Christians didn’t all agree on who Jesus was.

Some believed he was a man adopted by God (Adoptionism). Others thought he was divine but only appeared to be human (Docetism). Still others, like Arius, believed Jesus was created by God—but not eternal or equal.

It was theological chaos.
And political danger.

So in 325 CE, Emperor Constantine called a meeting to settle it—not just for the Church, but for the stability of the Roman Empire.

That meeting became the Council of Nicaea.

And that’s where Arius made his case.

According to legend, St. Nicholas (yep, that Nicholas—the one who inspired Santa Claus) got so mad at Arius for denying Jesus’ divinity that he punched him in the face right there at the council.

Theological debates were spicy back then.

The result of the council? A brand new creed:

“God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God…”

Jesus was now officially the second person of the Trinity—co-equal, co-eternal, and fully divine.

Approximately 300 years after his death, Jesus was declared God.

And even then, it wasn’t exactly clear what that meant.
It took several more councils over the next 125 years—and plenty more fights—to sort out how Jesus could be both fully divine and fully human at the same time.

The Trinity wasn’t a lightbulb moment.
It was a theological compromise hammered out over nearly 500 years—with heated debates and the occasional closed fist.

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Maybe Jesus thought we all had some God DNA.

What if Jesus wasn’t trying to prove he was divine?
What if he was trying to show us that somehow we all are?

Not in some ego-driven, blasphemous way.
But in the sense that we all carry the image of God. That love, mercy, justice, and forgiveness aren't just things Jesus did—they’re what it means to be fully human.

Yes, the records say he said things like “I and the Father are one.”
But he also said we are one with God.
He called us children of God.
He said the kingdom wasn’t out there—it was within us.

The early Gospel writers may have wrestled with whether Jesus was God.
But Jesus seemed more interested in what it meant to be human—in relationship with the Divine, in alignment with love.

As John Shelby Spong put it:

“The experience of God was not something Jesus had... it was something Jesus was.”

So maybe the goal wasn’t to elevate one man above everyone else.
Maybe the goal was to awaken us all to something deeper.

Something sacred.
Something we’ve had all along.

Or maybe I am accidentally preaching and this is just what I believe.

Sorry, hard habit to break.

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So where does this leave us?

If you’re deconstructing Christianity, here’s what this story reveals:

Even one of the central claims of the faith—Jesus’ divinity—wasn’t clear to the earliest Christians.

It didn’t drop fully formed the moment he died. It evolved, slowly and messily, over generations.

Some believed he was divine from the start.
Some thought he became divine at his resurrection.
Some believed he was just a human prophet, adopted by God.
And others believed he was so much “God” that he only appeared to be human.

There were Christian communities in the first, second, even third centuries that saw Jesus in very different ways.

It wasn’t until 325 CE, when a group of bishops convened by a Roman emperor voted on a theological formula, that the idea of Jesus as “true God from true God” became official. Even then, it took a few more councils to really lock it in.

And once something gets codified in a creed, people generally stop questioning it.
Especially back when they might burn you at the stake for such a thing.

But the truth is:

There was no single Christian view of Jesus for hundreds of years after he died.

That doesn’t necessarily make modern Christianity bad or wrong.

It just makes it human.

Like the person it’s founded on.

So if you find yourself questioning doctrines you were told were untouchable—like the divinity of Christ—you’re not being unfaithful. You’re being an honest human.

You’re joining a conversation that’s been happening since the beginning.

And if you grew up thinking one way and thinking about it in a new causes big feelings in you, just remember…

It made Santa Claus punch a dude.

It’s ok to feel some things.

Just err on being less naughty and more nice if you can.

And try to be good… for goodness’ sake.