A personal reflection by Pairan

The word "God" is often used as though it were obviously a personal name. But when you look closely at language and Scripture, you see that the word has different functions: God as a designation or title for the one God, god as a general reference to a deity. Name, title, and designation are not the same — and that very confusion lies at the root of much debate.

God and god. On paper we distinguish with a capital letter: God for the one Creator, god for a deity in general. But when you speak the word aloud, you don't hear the capital. A capital letter makes no sound. Someone who hears the word "God" does not automatically know whether the speaker means the Father, a title, or a general designation. Only the context makes that clear.

The names of God. Scripture uses different names, titles, and designations: Elohim (God), El Shaddai (God Almighty), Adonai (Lord), and YHWH — the name by which God makes Himself known in the Hebrew Scriptures. A name points to someone specifically. A title says something about authority or position. A designation says what someone is called. That distinction is exactly what is needed to ask the question about Jesus well.

The same pattern appears outside the Bible. In Arabic, Allah (الله) means "God" — the one God; ilāh (إله) means "a god" and is general. Allah is the Arabic word for the one God, also used by Arabic-speaking Christians. So a word can be a designation without explaining the full identity of the one it refers to. And that is exactly where you arrive at Jesus.

And then Jesus. The question "Is Jesus God?" only becomes truly interesting once you ask what is meant by it.

Do you mean: is Jesus the Father? No. Jesus speaks to the Father, prays to the Father, says the Father sent him. After his resurrection he says: "I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God" (John 20:17). Jesus and the Father are not the same person.

But that does not settle the question — Jesus is not an ordinary human teacher either. The Gospel of John says: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was god" (John 1:1). Before creation the Word already existed, with God the Father — as a person of his own, distinct from Him. At the same time that Word was god in the sense explained above: not the Father himself, but of divine nature. Distinction and unity at once; neither may push the other aside. Later that Word became human: Jesus (John 1:14). After the resurrection Thomas says to him: "My Lord and my god!" (John 20:28) — the same Jesus who shortly before spoke of "my God and your God". One sentence may not push all the others aside; it is about the whole.

Do you mean: is Jesus merely an ordinary man, without divine significance? That does not fit what the New Testament says about him.

Do you mean: is Jesus designated in a special, divine way? Yes. When "god" is used to designate divine status, power, or authority, Jesus can be called god in that sense — without being a separate god beside the Father, and without being the Father. That is where the distinction lies.

Authority — received from the Father. Jesus carried a unique divine authority, but he received it from the Father — he did not come to make himself great. He says himself: "All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth" (Matthew 28:18). That word "given" already points to the Father as the Source. The same Father gave him power to heal, to forgive sins, and to set people free (Mark 2:10), and even judgment was given to him (John 5:27). Yet Jesus also says: "I can of mine own self do nothing" (John 5:30). There you see the distinction clearly: the Father is the Source, the Son receives, and the Son carries it out. That does not make Jesus an ordinary man — the Father gave him a position far above any human authority. So the question is not only "what title does Jesus have?" but also "from Whom did he receive it?" — and every time, Jesus points back to the Father who sent him.

High Priest and King. Scripture calls Jesus the great High Priest (Hebrews 4:14); his priesthood belongs to his mission from the Father. But we must be careful when we speak of his return: the Bible does not say he will then come "as a priest". At his return he is described above all as King and Judge, coming with power to judge and to reign (Revelation 19:11-16). That is no contradiction: his priesthood describes his service, his return describes his kingship.

The end: everything back in the Father's hands. The clearest text on this is 1 Corinthians 15:24-28. When all enemies have been put under his feet, Christ hands the Kingdom over to God the Father. Then the Son subjects himself to Him who put all things under him, so that God may be all in all. It is the same movement this whole reflection shows: the Father gives authority to the Son — and at the end the Son gives it back. No rivalry, no kingdom of his own. The Son reigns on behalf of the Father, and when the work is finished, he places everything back in His hands.

Why a servant, and not the Father Himself? Why did the Father send Jesus to defeat the greatest enemy, instead of doing it in a way everyone would instantly recognize as "God Himself"? Perhaps precisely to show what is possible through the one He chooses. No army, no throne, no visible overwhelming power — but a carpenter without standing, a servant. If someone like that, sent by the Father, can defeat the greatest enemy, then victory does not lie in power or position, but in whom the Father chooses and what He does through that person. God could have done it Himself. He chose to do it through a Son who served, obeyed, and made himself small — so that the victory became visible in a life like ours.

The resurrection: His will happens. Jesus was not killed because he healed people, fed them, or prayed for them — that is exactly why people loved him. He was killed because he spoke the truth and stood against hypocrisy and against religious and political power that placed itself above the truth. It looked like defeat. But right there the Father showed that His will happens, even when the opposite seems true at first: He raised His Son from the dead (Acts 2:24). Those who thought they could silence the truth by killing the servant discovered that death did not have the last word. It is the same lesson as with the carpenter: it is not power defending itself that wins, but obedience that endures to the end.

No earthly title. Whoever looks at the life of Jesus sees someone who did not come to show off. No crown, no position above people. He walked among ordinary people, ate with them, served them, wept with them, prayed, obeyed — and kept pointing back to the Father. Perhaps we are too busy with "what title does Jesus have?", while he brings us to another question: "Who sent me?"

He made the Father great. Jesus reveals the Father in a unique way — and precisely because he made himself small, God became greatly visible in him. The less he put himself forward, the more the Father could be seen through him. He came to show us not only who he is, but also who we already are: children of God. A person can give himself a title; true exaltation comes from God. He made the Father great — and the Father exalted the Son.

This is how God has always worked: He used Abraham, Moses, and so many others — people who did not make themselves great, but served. Each prophet had his own mission for his own time. Today, too, God has His plan: for this time He has the lightbearers. They claim no title. They serve. That is why it is good to see the word priest not only as a title of status, but as an image of service — Jesus is the High Priest, and at the same time the one who serves.

Misunderstood then and now. Even during his life, Jesus was misunderstood. People expected an earthly king; when they wanted to make him king, he withdrew. He did not come for a throne, but to make the Father known. That misunderstanding still exists today. Perhaps the right question is not "what title should Jesus have?" but "what do you do with the truth he gives you?" — not "who stands above whom?" but "serve one another."

Do not blame faith. People use religion for power, to make money, or to wage war. To me, the problem does not lie with faith itself — but with what the human heart does with it. People twist words to fulfil their own desires. And whoever does the work of the Light is sometimes the very one who gets accused — while he is only doing what his heart asks of him.

Jesus himself warned about this: "Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves" (Matthew 7:15). And: "Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of my Father" (Matthew 7:21). Speaking his name is not enough. What matters is what you do.

No title, no status — a personal relationship. God does not care for titles and status. He asks for no church rank, no human priest between you and Him, no perfect life before you may come to Him. He wants a personal relationship with each of us. In His eyes there is no Christian, no Jew, no Muslim, no Hindu — He sees no label, He sees His child. He does not ask for perfection. He asks for a heart that seeks.

No quarrelling over titles. Let us not end this question with an argument. Let us not condemn one another over a different word, but walk together as brothers and sisters. We often see only the outside; the Father knows the heart. Jesus said: "The kingdom of God is in your midst" (Luke 17:21). Do not accuse too quickly. Be patient with the one who is still searching. We may differ in words and traditions without becoming enemies — for we see only a part; the Father sees the whole.

But the most important question is not what title we give Jesus. The most important question is: why was he sent? He was sent by the Father, came as a man among people, served, spoke the truth, made the Father great — and showed that we may know God and live as His children.

The Father is the Father. The Son is the Son. The Son is not the Father. But the Son was sent by the Father to make the truth visible.

Perhaps the answer is not meant to set us against each other, but to bring us closer together, closer to the Light. Not above one another. Not against one another. Beside one another — as children of the Father, as brothers and sisters, in love, in truth, in patience, in the Light.