It is tempting to solve Yeshua by analogy. Put him beside Krishna, Horus, Attis, Dionysus, or Mithras, list a handful of alleged similarities, and conclude that his story is a late remix of older myths. The move feels tidy—and it spares us the scandal of Israel’s Messiah entering history. But tidy is not the same as true.
The Allure of Easy Parallels
Parallels can be suggestive without proving dependence; resemblances can be superficial while the deep structure remains utterly different. Most claims that “Christianity copied the pagans” come from nineteenth- and early twentieth-century comparative religion, a period prone to what scholars now call parallelomania. When we slow down and ask basic questions — Who said this first? Where did it happen? In what community? — the easy parallels evaporate.
Chronology and Context
The earliest witnesses to Yeshua’s life and death are first-century Jews. Their songs, prayers, and arguments are steeped in Torah, Prophets, and Writings. They confess the Shema (Deuteronomy 6:4) — even as they proclaim that God has acted decisively in Yeshua’s death and resurrection. The moral world of the Gospels is not the cosmos of fertility cults; it is the drama of covenant, exile, and promised restoration. The Dead Sea Scrolls only sharpen this point: before and around the time of Yeshua, Jewish communities already spoke about priestly and royal messiahs, an anointed deliverer, a heavenly Son of Man, and the Spirit’s end-time work — all within Israel’s fierce monotheism. Yeshua’s story grows from this soil.
What the First Believers Claimed
The New Testament does not say that Yeshua was born on December 25. It offers no date at all — yet Yeshua was most likely born in Tishrei (September–October), during the Jewish festival of Sukkot, as suggested by linguistic clues in the Gospel of John and historical patterns of pilgrimage and hospitality during that season. The New Testament does not place him among a pantheon of equals. It does not present a symbolic death that mirrors the seasons. It records a public execution in Judea under Roman authority and the claim that God raised him bodily “on the third day,” with named witnesses and communities formed around his teaching. This is not mythic time. It is the scandal of history.
A Closer Look at the Usual Parallels
Virgin Birth: In the Gospels, Yeshua’s conception is unique: God’s creative Spirit overshadows Miriam (Hebrew for Mary), and the child is holy. Pagan stories often involve a god’s sexual union with a woman (as with Dionysus) or extraordinary births that are not virginal at all (Krishna is the eighth child of Devaki; Horus is born to Isis after she reassembles Osiris; Mithras in Roman cult is born from a rock). Similar words, different worlds.
Twelve Disciples: The Twelve in the Gospels are a deliberate symbol of Israel’s restoration — twelve tribes renewed. No robust, ancient source describes a pagan deity with twelve personal disciples on mission in the world.
Crucifixion and Resurrection: Crucifixion is a Roman instrument of state terror. Pagan figures are not crucified by Rome in first-century Judea and raised bodily on “the third day.” Some myths have dying-and-rising motifs tied to agricultural cycles; these symbolize nature’s return. Yeshua’s resurrection is proclaimed as a once-for-all act of Israel’s God within history, launching a new creation, not an annual crop cycle.
Miracles: Pagan tales teem with wonders, but the Gospels emphasize signs that restore Israel’s covenant life: lepers cleansed, outcasts welcomed, sinners forgiven, the poor given good news. The crowds “glorified the God of Israel” when they saw Yeshua heal — “so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:16), “they praised the God of Israel” (Matthew 15:31), and after the paralytic walked, “they glorified God” (Luke 5:25–26). The direction of worship is decisive.
Why Similar Is Not the Same
Every culture tries to say the unsayable: that human life aches for healing, justice, and immortality. It is no surprise, then, that stories scatter across the ancient world about gods who help, heal, or return. But similarity of theme is not identity of source. The Gospel writers do not borrow random mythic elements; they reread Israel’s Scriptures around the concrete life of Yeshua. Where myth dissolves into symbol, the Gospels cut toward history and ethics: repent, forgive, care for the poor, love even enemies. Where myth offers ritual to appease, Yeshua calls for a kingdom that transforms.
Israel is the Gospel’s Grammar
If we ask, “From which grammar did the earliest disciples speak?” the answer is Israel’s. Creation with God’s Spirit at work — “the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters” (Genesis 1:2). The plural deliberation of divine counsel — “Let us make humankind in our image” (Genesis 1:26). The enthronement of the Davidic king — “The Lord says to my lord, ‘Sit at my right hand’” (Psalm 110:1). The human-like figure receiving dominion — “one like a human being… and to him was given dominion and glory and kingship” (Daniel 7:13–14). The Servant who bears and heals — “by his bruises we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5). The Messiah who embodies God’s rule — “Of the increase of his authority and peace there shall be no end” (Isaiah 9:7). None of this requires a pantheon. All of it can lead a faithful Jew to say of Yeshua what the earliest disciples said: that in him Israel’s God has kept his promises.
Incarnation Without Polytheism
Some Christians have spoken clumsily, as if the Father were wrath and the Son were love — as if the Trinity were a divided household. Set that aside. The New Testament presents one God revealing himself in relational ways: the Father who sends, the Son who obeys and reveals, the Spirit who indwells and renews. When the Word becomes flesh, Israel’s monotheism is not abandoned; it is dramatized. “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” (Matthew 6:9–10). The one God comes near without ceasing to be one.
Yeshua’s path is not a seasonal fable. He blesses enemies, touches lepers, forgives sinners, confronts powers, and then offers himself in love. He does not win by force but by fidelity. The cross is not divine cruelty; it is divine self-giving. And the resurrection is not a comforting symbol; it is the announcement that Israel’s God has begun the new creation in the middle of this one. That is why former idol-worshipers turned to the God of Israel through Yeshua, and why the earliest assemblies prayed, preached, and suffered as Jews who believed God had done a new thing through Israel’s Messiah.
Conclusion
If you have heard that Yeshua is a copy of the East, begin again. Read him with Israel’s Scriptures open, not a list of internet parallels. Test the claim by its fruit: Does it draw people to “the God of Israel” (Matthew 15:31)? Does it lead to prayer that says, “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name” (Matthew 6:9)? Does it call for lives marked by mercy, justice, and holiness? My wager is simple: the closer you read Yeshua within Israel’s story, the more unique he becomes — and the more credible it is that God has come near in Him.
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