The Son of Man or The Sun

Have you ever heard someone say that Jesus wasn’t the Son of God, but actually the “Sun” of God? That His story is just a recycled version of older myths, centered around solar deities like Horus or Mithras? It’s an idea that’s been popularized in documentaries like Zeitgeist, which claim that Christianity is just another sun worship religion with a new name. But when we go beyond the surface and actually explore the language and historical context, the story becomes far more meaningful—and far more grounded in truth.

Let’s begin with the language. The New Testament was originally written in Greek, not English. In Greek, the word for “son” is huios—spelled υἱός. The word for “sun,” like the sun in the sky, is helios—spelled ἥλιος. They are not the same word. They don’t sound alike, and they’re not even close etymologically. So while “son” and “sun” happen to be homophones in English, this wordplay simply doesn’t exist in the language of the original Gospel texts. The connection falls apart the moment we leave modern English and return to the source.

Now consider the title “Son of Man,” which Jesus often used to describe Himself. In Greek, it’s written as ho huios tou anthrōpou—meaning “the son of the human” or “son of humanity.” But go one layer deeper into the Aramaic, the language Jesus actually spoke, and you get “Ben Adam.” This isn’t a reference to the sun or stars—it’s a deeply Jewish expression rooted in the Old Testament, particularly in the book of Ezekiel, where God repeatedly addresses the prophet as “son of man,” emphasizing human vulnerability and divine calling. Jesus used this title not to echo ancient solar myths, but to align Himself with the prophetic voice and the messianic figure described in Daniel, who comes with divine authority.

So where do these claims of sun god parallels come from? It’s true that ancient religions often used solar imagery. The sun is powerful, life-giving, and ever-present. But that doesn’t mean every spiritual figure who brings light and hope is secretly a sun deity. Jesus’ story is not a myth built on solar symbols—it is the fulfillment of a long, prophetic narrative born out of Hebrew scripture and carried forward by a community awaiting divine intervention. Early Christians did not model Jesus after Horus or Mithras—they saw Him as the promised one of Israel, crucified under Rome, and resurrected in defiance of death itself.

In the end, the story of Jesus is not a copy. It is a continuation—a fulfillment of deep spiritual yearning, rooted in Jewish history, spoken in Aramaic, written in Greek, and preserved across centuries. The “Son of Man” is not the “Sun in the sky”—He is the divine expression of humanity and the eternal Word made flesh. And that story doesn’t need wordplay or myth to be powerful. It just needs open eyes, and an open heart.