In 1990, construction workers accidentally discovered an ancient tomb 2 miles southwest of the temple mount in Jerusalem. Dating to the first century, the tomb contained an ornate ossuary containing the bones of a 60-year-old man. The ossuary’s elaborate decorations suggested that the bones belonged to a figure of some standing. This was confirmed by an Aramaic inscription on the back of the ossuary which read “Yehosef bar Qayafa” or in English “Joseph son of Caiaphas.”
This was a stunning development. Archeologists now agree that these remains almost certainly belong to Caiaphas, the Jewish High Priest who presided over the trial of Jesus and then handed him over to the Romans for execution. Although the gospel writers only use the shorter moniker Caiaphas, the ancient Jewish historian Josephus provides us with his full name “Joseph, who was called Caiaphas.”
All four of the gospels describe the dramatic moment when Jesus is brought before Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin, the ruling council of the Jews. Although many false witnesses came forward, the court struggled to produce enough evidence to condemn the prophet from Nazareth. Finally, Caiaphas himself directly confronted Jesus: “I charge you under oath by the living God: Tell us if you are the Christ, the Son of God.” (Matthew 26:63)
Over the last two weeks, we’ve learned that when the first Christians went out into the world, by far the most important thing they said was that “Jesus is the Christ.” Strangely and sadly, many Christians fail to comprehend what the term Christ means, despite its ubiquity in the New Testament.
Hopefully by now readers have learned that Christ refers to the Messiah, the anointed king of Israel. This knowledge is crucially important because it opens up an entire world of Biblical thought which runs from the first pages of Genesis to the final words of Revelation.
Today I’d like to further challenge readers by examining the latter part of Caiaphas’ query: “the son of God.” Not coincidentally, this phrase is often found closely linked to the title Christ.
The other two synoptic gospels record this event in a very similar manner. In Mark, Caiaphas asks, “Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed One?” (Obviously, the Blessed One is simply a reverent way of speaking about God.) In the book of Luke, Jesus is first asked, “If you are the Christ, tell us.” After Jesus’ initial response, they then ask, “Are you then the Son of God?”
Caiaphas is by no means the only Biblical character to bring these terms together. In the book of John, Martha declares, “I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who was to come into the world.” When Jesus asks his disciples who they think he is, Peter confesses, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”
The vast majority of modern Christians, when they encounter the expression “the son of God” happily take this as a straightforward reference to Jesus as the second person of the trinity. Christians uniquely believe that the one true God exists as three divine persons: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. This doctrine was developed and debated over the first few centuries of church history. Although famously denied by a heretic named Arius, the full divinity of Jesus was overwhelmingly affirmed by the Council of Nicaea in 325 AD.
However, many churchgoers are unaware that the phrase “the son of God” has a long history going back many centuries before the time of Jesus.
We encounter this language deep in the Pentateuch, when the LORD commanded Moses to confront Pharoah. “This is what the LORD says: Israel is my firstborn son…Let my son go, so he may worship me.” Although it might seem odd to most Christians, “the son of God” here is a reference to the whole nation of Israel. The expression describes the special relationship God had with the people of Israel by virtue of the promises he had made to their ancestors Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.
The title “the son of God” later became a title for the King of Israel.
2 Samuel 7 is one of the most important chapters in the entire Bible. This passage recounts how God promised King David that his royal line would endure forever: “The LORD declares to you that the LORD himself will establish a house for you: When your days are over and you rest with your fathers, I will raise up your offspring to succeed you, who will come from your own body, and I will establish his kingdom. He is the one who will build a house for my Name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever. I will be his father and he will be my son.”
The language of sonship refers to the extraordinary relationship between God and Israel’s king. The king was responsible for leading the Lord’s people in covenant faithfulness. In return, God vowed to bestow his favor and blessing upon Israel.
This promise was partly fulfilled during the reign of David’s son Solomon, who would indeed build a magnificent temple for the LORD. But the words God spoke to David went well beyond the rule of Solomon. They were understood to refer to a coming Messiah, a mighty king of Israel who would establish an eternal kingdom. And this Messiah would be known as “the son of God.”
This hope is picked up by many other Old Testament writers.
Psalm 2 is an excellent example. This key psalm describes how the rulers of the earth foment rebellion against the one true God and his chosen king: “The kings of the earth take their stand and the rulers gather together against the LORD and against his anointed one.”
But despite all such human defiance, God will firmly establish the kingdom of his Messiah: “I have installed my king on Zion, my holy hill.”
The psalm then shifts to the voice of the Messiah himself, who recounts, “[The LORD] said to me, ‘You are my Son; today I have become your Father. Ask of me and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession. You will rule them with an iron scepter.”
Once again, the son of God refers to the Messiah, the king of Israel, who will rule, not just over Israel, but over every nation on the earth.
What then can we conclude about the phrase “the son of God”? The key insight is that, at the time of Jesus, this expression carried the exact same meaning as the term Christ; both are titles referring to the Messiah. This explains why these terms are so often found together; they’re used in tandem for clarity and emphasis.
Armed with this knowledge, let’s return to the dramatic scene when Jesus stood before the High Priest.
Caiaphas demanded, “Tell us if you are the Christ, the son of God.” We should now be able to see that Caiaphas is simply asking whether Jesus is claiming to be the Messiah. By adding “the son of God” to “the Christ,” Caiaphas is not introducing a whole separate topic, such as Jesus’ deity. Rather, he’s simply repeating another Messianic title.
The same logic applies to Peter’s confession near Caesarea Philippi. “You are the Christ, the son of the living God.” (Matt. 16:16) Like Caiaphas, Peter is using two expressions, both of which indicate that Jesus is the Messiah.
Only after the shocking events of Easter was there a widespread realization that Jesus was the incarnation of the God of Israel. The language of sonship – heretofore used to designate the Messiah – also became the perfect way to express the fact that Jesus shares the divine glory due only to the one true God.
But here is the main point: even though “the Son of God” gained additional significance, the writers of scripture never intended to abandon its original meaning. Even in the New Testament, when we encounter the phrase, “the Son of God,” we must recognize that the writers were ascribing to Jesus the title of Messiah, the king of the Jews.
Only then can we properly comprehend Jesus as the climax of the Bible; the grand story of how Israel & her anointed king would be the agents through whom God would bring judgment and blessing upon the whole world.
