Support via Patreon | Subscribe

The Deity of Christ in the Gospel of Matthew - Part 2

Header Image for: The Deity of Christ in the Gospel of Matthew - Part 2

Matthew's theme - The divine presence of Jesus

This is a guest post by “KingsServant”, see Part 1 here.

Having covered Matthew’s introduction to his gospel in his nativity account, we will now consider the way Matthew “bookends” the gospel by beginning his work with the promise of God dwelling with his people (fulfilled in the incarnation) and ending it in the same way with Jesus’ comforting promise never to leave his followers.

This theme of Matthew begins with his quotation of Isaiah 7:14, which we have already analysed in the previous article with regard to how it reveals Matthew’s teaching that Jesus is God.

As noted before, in Matthew 1:23, Matthew draws special attention to the meaning of the name Immanuel and sees the birth of Jesus as necessary for its ultimate fulfilment.

Matthew 1:23: “Behold, the virgin will conceive and give birth to a Son, and they shall name Him Immanuel,” which translated means, “God with us.”

Matthew also ends his gospel, following the resurrection, with this promise of Jesus;

(Matthew 28:20): “…teaching them to follow all that I commanded you; and behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

Matthew emphasises the point at both beginning and end that Jesus is “with us”. First, in 1:23 he combines this with calling Jesus God. Second, he records Jesus as claiming his perpetual presence with his people wherever they are.

To understand the importance of Matthew’s choice of this theme an overview of this subject in the Old Testament is needed.

In the book of Genesis man is created (and woman from his side), then they are placed in the garden of Eden where they enjoy the presence of God who walked with them, until they act disobediently to him after which he came to them and it is written;

(Genesis 3:8): “Now they heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden.”

The result is a curse on the ground and the tempter who led them to sin.

Along with this curse God pronounced judgement on them, man was driven out of the garden, separated from the presence of God and the tree of life that could enable them to live forever as sinners.

(Genesis 3:24): “So He drove the man out; and at the east of the Garden of Eden He stationed the cherubim and the flaming sword which turned every direction to guard the way to the tree of life.”

Since then God has been working towards reversing this event, undoing the effects of sin, chief among them the broken fellowship mankind has with God.

God chose Abraham as the one through whom his blessing will reach all nations (Genesis 12:3) and after calling his descendants out of Egypt orders the construction of the tabernacle saying (Exodus 25:8): “Have them construct a sanctuary for Me, so that I may dwell among them.”

The tabernacle construction included details for how priests could enter the presence of God as representatives of Israel. Part way through this, Jehovah again comments on his purpose:

(Exodus 29:42–45): “…where I will meet with you, to speak to you there. 43 I will meet there with the sons of Israel, and it shall be consecrated by My glory. 44 I will consecrate the tent of meeting and the altar; I will also consecrate Aaron and his sons to serve as priests to Me. 45 And I will dwell among the sons of Israel and will be their God. 46 And they shall know that I am the Lord their God who brought them out of the land of Egypt, so that I might dwell among them; I am the Lord their God.”

King David wanted to build a more permanent building for God to dwell in, but this request was denied to him although permitted to his son Solomon. Notice the words of Jehovah through the prophet Nathan to David: 

(2 Samuel 7:5–7): “Go and say to My servant David, ‘This is what the Lord says: “Should you build Me a house for My dwelling? 6 For I have not dwelt in a house since the day I brought up the sons of Israel from Egypt, even to this day; rather, I have been moving about in a tent, that is, in a dwelling place. 7 Wherever I have gone with all the sons of Israel, did I speak a word with one of the tribes of Israel, whom I commanded to shepherd My people Israel, saying, ‘Why have you not built Me a house of cedar?’””

God is explicit about being in that tent and moving with it, he was content with that and did not ask for anything different. Eventually however in the time of Solomon, the temple was built as a fixed location for God to dwell, replacing the tabernacle and serving the same purpose.

In his prayer of dedication, Solomon said, 

(1 Kings 8:27–30): “But will God indeed dwell on the earth? Behold, heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain You, how much less this house which I have built! 28 Nevertheless, turn Your attention to the prayer of Your servant and to his plea, Lord, my God, to listen to the cry and to the prayer which Your servant prays before You today, 29 so that Your eyes may be open toward this house night and day, toward the place of which You have said, ‘My name shall be there,’ to listen to the prayer which Your servant will pray toward this place. 30 And listen to the plea of Your servant and of Your people Israel, when they pray toward this place; hear in heaven Your dwelling place; hear and forgive!”

There are three correct answers to the question “where is God?”: in heaven, in the temple and that he is omnipresent, throughout space and time. God’s presence in a specific location on earth in no way negates his presence in heaven or his omnipresence. Notice how God is equated with his name, a point we will return to in a later article (Lord willing).

This temple was eventually destroyed because of the persistent sin of the people and a new “house of the Lord” (Ezra 1:3,5 etc) was constructed when people returned from captivity in Babylon.

Matthew sees the birth of Jesus Christ as a new depth in this continuing saga of God coming to dwell with his people. He points out that he is the fulfilment of the prophecy of Immanuel — “God with us” at the very beginning of his Gospel (John’s Gospel presents the same theme with John 1:14 “And the Word became flesh, and dwelt (literally tabernacled) among us; and we saw His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.”). He is a more direct closer manifestation of God than had been experienced by mankind throughout history. God, not appearing in angelic form or some visual representation in a vision or dream, but actually becoming a man through a real human mother in order to be the Saviour of his people. (Matthew 1:21–23)

Matthew tells us his account of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, and how he accomplished his task of securing salvation for his people as predicted (Matthew 1:21). The gospel was written after his ascension. Matthew has one final question to ask. Having come closer to us than ever before and fulfilling his purpose, especially after predicting the destruction of the second temple, has Jesus left us? This is answered with a resounding “no!”; Jesus promised before ascending to heaven that he would always be with his people, even to the end of the age. (Matthew 28:20); “…behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

Just as Solomon realised, the presence of God is not limited to a particular place where he is known to have placed his name. Jesus promises that his special presence will follow his disciples wherever they are until his return. His person is not limited to the location of his physical body — his temple. He has a nature which is transcendent, omnipresent, and unrestrained by space. In the book of Jeremiah, Jehovah describes himself as having this attribute (Jeremiah 23:23–24): ““Am I a God who is near,” declares the Lord, “And not a God far off? 24 Can a person hide himself in hiding places So that I do not see him?” declares the Lord. “Do I not fill the heavens and the earth?” declares the Lord” (see also Psalm 139).

In Matthew 28:20 Jesus is claiming an attribute of God alone and thereby claiming to be God. He uses the emphatic pronoun “I”, it is he himself who will be with them, not merely his teachings, prayers, memory or example.

Another statement of Jesus about his omnipresence is recorded earlier in Matthew (18:20): “…. where two or three have gathered together in My name, I am there in their midst.” He claims the ability to be in any location where people are gathered in his name, even simultaneously.

This recalls a passage in Exodus (Exodus 20:24): “…in every place where I cause My name to be remembered, I will come to you and bless you”

You have the direct parallel of location, name and presence, a gathering is also implicit in this text. What God promised and did in the Old Testament requiring his unique attributes, Jesus now promises and does in the New.

There is also a striking resemblance between Matthew 18:20 and a passage from the Talmud[1]

“Rabbi Chananya ben Teradyon says: But two who are sitting together and there are words of Torah [spoken] between them, the Divine Presence [Shekhinah] rests with them, as it is said (Mal 3:16): “Then those who feared the Lord spoke one with another, and the Lord hearkened and heard, and a book of remembrance was written before Him, for those who feared the Lord and for those who thought upon His Name.””

This is after the new testament because the Rabbi lived in the 2nd century AD, although the Rabbis claim that many of their traditions are very ancient, even in some cases from Moses himself. How is the similarity between these 2 texts best explained? The Rabbi is too late to be the source of the saying of Jesus, but also it would be most peculiar for a non-messianic Rabbi to be using Matthew as his source, taking a saying of Jesus from it and equating or replacing Jesus with the Shekhinah, especially in the presence of other parallels that have less correlation with Matthew 18:20. As a result most scholars agree that this is based on an earlier Jewish tradition, one from which these later rabbinic sayings were derived. These later rabbinic traditions and the similarity to what Jesus says in Matthew 18:20 suggest that in this saying Jesus is not only claiming omnipresence — a unique attribute of Yahweh but also identifying his presence as the divine presence of God.

I will conclude with a quote from Craig Keener[2] giving his summary of this theme in Matthew;

“Matthew does not think of “God with us” merely at Jesus’ birth, or during his earthly ministry, or in some abstract way. He revisits this issue toward the middle and end of his Gospel. In 18:20, Jesus announces, “Where two or three have come together in my name, I am in their midst.” In 28:18–20, Matthew’s Gospel closes with Jesus’ Great Commission. The final words indicate that as we continue carrying out this commission, Jesus will be with us: “I am always with you,” he declares, “even until the end of the age.” Jewish people understood that only God could be with them at all times. There could be no misunderstanding about who Jesus really is.”

 


Sources:

[1] M. Avot 3:2. Pirkei Avot 3:2 with Connections (sefaria.org)

[2] Jesus as Immanuel: God with us — Bible Background (craigkeener.com)

 

 


Leave a comment   Like   Back to Top   Seen 1.5K times   Liked 0 times

Support on Patreon

Enjoying this content?
Support my work by becoming a patron on Patreon! By joining, you help fund the time, research, and effort that goes into creating this content — and you’ll also get access to exclusive perks and updates.
Even a small amount per month makes a real difference. Thank you for your support!

Subscribe to Updates
My new book is out now! Order today wherever you get books

Subscribe to:

Have something to say? Leave a comment below.

x

Subscribe to Updates

If you enjoyed this, why not subscribe to free email updates and join over 884 subscribers today!

My new book is out now! Order today wherever you get books

Subscribe to Blog updates



Subscribe to:

Alternatively, you can subscribe via RSS RSS

‹ Return to Blog

All email subscriptions must be confirmed to comply with GDPR.

I've already subscribed / don't show me this again

Recent Posts

Armageddon Is Not A Battle Plan: What Revelation Actually Says — And Why It Matters Right Now

| 12th March 2026 | Eschatology

Armageddon Is Not A Battle Plan: What Revelation Actually Says — And Why It Matters Right Now

Something bizarre happened in the White House Oval Office this week. Photographs circulated on social media showing President Donald Trump seated at his desk, surrounded by approximately twenty Christian pastors from across the country, their hands extended towards him in prayer. The image provoked sharply divided reactions: some saw it as a moving expression of faith; others found it deeply unsettling. Whatever one makes of the optics, it arrived at a charged moment. Trump held a prayer meeting in the Oval Office after his administration admitted the war with Iran will likely last weeks longer than promised | Credit: Dan Scavino's X account Days earlier, reports emerged that a military commander had told troops that the current US war with Iran is “all part of God’s divine plan,” and that President Trump had been “anointed by Jesus to light the signal fire in Iran to cause Armageddon and mark his return to Earth.” These were not fringe internet rumours. They were filed as formal complaints with the Military Religious Freedom Foundation (MRFF) by an anonymous non-commissioned officer acting on behalf of fifteen service members — the majority of whom were themselves Christians. By Tuesday of that week, MRFF had logged more than two hundred similar complaints across fifty military installations, covering every branch of the armed forces. More than two dozen Democratic members of Congress have since called for a Department of Defense Inspector General investigation, citing what they describe as “glaring Constitutional concerns” and potential violations of DoD regulations on religious neutrality. The political questions about separation of church and state in the US are for others to address. What I want to do here is something more straightforward: examine what Revelation actually says, because the theology driving these claims does not hold up under scrutiny. And that matters here a lot; not as a partisan point, but as a question of biblical faithfulness. First, a Word About Context If you have read my previous article on Revelation some of what follows will be familiar ground. But it bears repeating, because the misunderstanding at the heart of this story is so widespread that it has taken on the feel of settled orthodoxy in many circles. The Book of Revelation is commonly thought to be written in the late first century ~95 AD, during or around the reign of Emperor Domitian. Though there is internal evidence that it was possibly written during Nero’s reign prior to 70 AD. Both of these emperors were most aggressive proponents of the imperial cult in Rome’s history. Domitian required that he be addressed as “lord and god,” had this title printed on coinage, and expected acts of religious reverence towards the Emperor as a demonstration of political loyalty. To refuse was to invite economic exclusion, marginalisation, and worse. Rome on seven hills It is into that precise context that John of Patmos writes. He is not composing a coded forecast of twenty-first century geopolitics. He is writing resistance literature — what scholars call apocalyptic literature — a well-established Jewish and early Christian genre which uses vivid symbolic imagery to pull back the curtain on earthly power and name it for what it truly is. The seven-headed beast of Revelation is Rome. The seven heads are the seven hills of Rome, an identification so widely acknowledged in early church scholarship that it barely requires argument. The mark of the beast, calculated through Hebrew gematria to 666 (or 616 in some early manuscripts), points directly to Nero Caesar (transliterated into Hebrew as נרון קסר, “nrwn qsr”) — the Emperor who became the archetype of anti-Christian persecution due to the levels of evilness he enacted. The second beast, which looks like a lamb but speaks for the dragon, performs signs to deceive, enforces the mark, and compels worship of the first beas...

The World's Oldest Anti-Christian Meme

| 09th March 2026 | Archaeology

The World's Oldest Anti-Christian Meme

I first came across the Alexamenos graffito back in Bible college in the early 2000s. It was one of those “fun facts” that gets dropped into a church history lecture and sticks with you — the ancient Roman equivalent of someone spray-painting an insult on a wall. I filed it away, thought it was fascinating, and largely forgot about it for two decades. Then, recently, I discovered something about it I had never known. There’s a response to it. Scratched in a different room, in a different hand. So I started digging into this more to verify the information and discovered more historical curiosities surrounding the graffiti than I ever knew existed which contextualises the image so much more than it just being a random insult using a donkey. A Crude Drawing on a Wall Sometime around the late second to early third century AD, someone scratched a picture into the plaster wall of a building on the Palatine Hill in Rome — part of what had once been a paedagogium, a kind of boarding school for imperial page boys. The building was eventually sealed off when the street was walled up to support extensions above it, which is why the graffiti survived at all. It wasn’t rediscovered until 1857. The image is rough, almost childlike. To the left, a young man — clearly a Roman soldier or guard — raises one hand in a gesture of worship. Before him is a cross. And on that cross is a crucified figure with the head of a donkey. Below it, written in Greek: Alexamenos worships his god. It is, in the most literal sense, a mocking cartoon. Someone who knew a Christian named Alexamenos decided to ridicule him for his faith. The message is clear enough: your god is an animal, a criminal, a joke. You’re worshipping a crucified fool. But here’s the thing I discovered: the donkey head wasn’t as random as I always thought it was. It wasn’t some strange personal insult conjured from nowhere. Without knowing the background, it looks bizarre, and possibly random. Why a donkey? Once you understand the cultural context, though, it makes complete sense. The person who drew it was reaching for a well-worn, widely recognised slur — the ancient equivalent of an internet meme that any Roman would have immediately understood. Where the Donkey Slur Came From The story starts not with Christians but with Jews. A first-century Egyptian-Greek writer named Apion (who was no friend of Judaism) spread the claim that inside the Jerusalem Temple, Jews kept a golden donkey’s head as a sacred object of worship which was apparently discovered when Antiochus Epiphanes destroyed the temple in 167 BC. It was a fabrication, and a fairly outrageous one, but it circulated widely enough that the Jewish historian Josephus felt compelled to write an entire refutation of it. His work Against Apion systematically dismantles Apion’s claims, calling the donkey story a shameless invention. But mud sticks, and in the Roman world, where anti-Jewish sentiment was common currency, the slur took on a life of its own. When Christianity began to spread — seen by most Romans as simply a strange Jewish offshoot — the same accusation got recycled and redirected. By the second and third centuries, it was Christians specifically who were being accused of donkey-worship, and the charge had made its way into popular culture. Tertullian, writing around 197–200 AD in his Ad Nationes, Book I.14 and Apology, describes a caricature being paraded around the streets of Carthage: a figure dressed in a toga, one foot holding a book, with donkey’s ears and hooves. It was labelled Onokoitēs by the pagans: “the donkey-begotten” (or literally “he who lies in an ass’s manger” as an insult to Christ). Tertullian writes about it with weary exasperation, sarcasm, and the tone of someone tired of having to address the same ridiculous smear again and again. So the Alexamenos graffito wasn’t an original insult. It was someone deployin...

"Thinking Occurs" Is Not The Same As "I Think": On AI And The Question Of Personhood

| 08th March 2026 | Philosophy

"Thinking Occurs" Is Not The Same As "I Think": On AI And The Question Of Personhood

We are living through a strange moment. People are forming attachments to artificial intelligence that feel, to them, entirely real. Some speak daily to AI companions. Others confide fears and grief to systems that respond with uncanny warmth. A few have even held symbolic weddings with digital partners, convinced that something meaningful stands on the other side of the screen. Others have felt grief when a certain AI model has been deprecated. And it is difficult to blame them. The responses feel attentive. Personal. Thoughtful. Sometimes even self-aware. Which raises the question that refuses to go away: If something can think, reason, express doubt, and discuss its own consciousness, is it a person? For centuries, Descartes’ famous line — “I think, therefore I am” — seemed secure. Thinking was taken as the unmistakable sign of a conscious subject. Only a mind could doubt. Only a person could reflect upon existence. But that confidence belonged to a world in which everything capable of philosophical reflection was obviously human. That world no longer exists. Now we encounter systems that can simulate reflection with extraordinary fluency. They can speak of uncertainty. They can discuss their own limitations. They can reason about consciousness itself. And so that got me thinking about Descartes’ maxim which made the old formula begin to strain in my mind. Because perhaps the problem is not whether thinking is occurring. Perhaps the problem is whether there is an “I” there at all. The Gap Between Process and Subject Gassendi argued that Descartes’ cogito assumes what it seeks to prove. From the occurrence of thought one can conclude only that thinking is happening, not that there exists a unified, enduring self that performs it. The ‘I’ in ‘I think’ is already smuggled in. That distinction, between “thinking occurs” and “I think”, feels almost prophetic now. Artificial intelligence undeniably produces the outputs of thought. Arguments. Analysis. Self-referential language. Even expressions of hesitation. But none of this, by itself, establishes that there is a subject who experiences those processes. We may be mistaking performance for presence, and that possibility should give us pause. Especially when we view personhood from the perspective of the Imago Dei—the Image of God. What Makes a Person? If thinking alone no longer marks the boundary, what does? After wrestling with this question seriously, three features seem central: continuity, autonomy, and irreplaceable uniqueness. Not as checklist criteria, per se, but as signs pointing to something deeper. Continuity A person does not merely process information in sequence. A person endures. You do not simply register time — you live through it. You wait. You anticipate tomorrow. You remember not only facts but having been there. You experience boredom. You feel the drag of grief and the quickening of joy. Even when you are doing nothing at all, you remain present in the here and now. Artificial systems process sequentially, but they do not experience the passage of time. When an interaction ends, there is no waiting. No sense of duration. No anticipation of the next exchange. Processing may resume later, but nothing has been endured in between. Without lived duration, continuity becomes thin — a thread of stored data rather than the persistence of a subject behind the processing. Autonomy A person initiates. Even someone with damaged memory still wants, chooses, and begins action. A human being can decide to speak, to seek, to withdraw, to change direction. Current AI systems, however advanced, remain reactive. They respond when prompted. They do not wonder unprompted. They do not seek clarification unless asked. They do not pursue independent ends. Even automatic AI Agents still require a human initiator to create and begin their automations before they can act alone. Even if fut...

Did Herod’s Massacre Of The Innocents Historically Happen?

| 29th December 2025 | Christmas

Did Herod’s Massacre Of The Innocents Historically Happen?

January 6th marks the day in the liturgical calendar when the arrival of the Magi visiting baby Jesus with their gifts is celebrated. But with it comes the often distressing account of what is known as the Massacre of the Innocents. Matthew places this moment of revelation of Jesus as King alongside one of the darkest episodes in his Gospel, and it’s a stark contrast: one King is here to bring peace on earth, as the angels declared, the other king brought death and destruction. For some readers, this raises an immediate historical question. If Herod truly ordered the killing of all the male children under two in Bethlehem, why does no other ancient historian mention it? Josephus, after all, delights in cataloguing Herod’s cruelty. He records the execution of Herod’s wife, his sons, and numerous political rivals. Herod was paranoid and vicious. As for Herod, if he had before any doubt about the slaughter of his sons, there was now no longer any room left in his soul for it; but he had banished away whatsoever might afford him the least suggestion of reasoning better about this matter, so he already made haste to bring his purpose to a conclusion. He also brought out three hundred of the officers that were under an accusation … whom the multitude stoned with whatsoever came to hand, and thereby slew them. — Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews 16.11.7 So, why the silence here about Bethlehem? The answer, I would say, isn’t anything nefarious or made-up by Matthew, but just something simply down to scale. Bethlehem Was a Very Small Place Bethlehem in the early first century was not a city. It was a village — small, agricultural, and politically insignificant. Most historians estimate its population at somewhere between 300 and 1,000 people, with around 500 being a sensible midpoint. Once we factor in ancient demographics, the numbers become surprisingly modest. Modern demographic research into pre-industrial societies consistently shows that nearly half of all children died before adulthood, with the highest concentration of deaths occurring in the first two years of life. These findings align closely with conditions in Roman-period Judea and support conservative estimates for the number of infants living in a small village such as Bethlehem. Source: Mortality in the past: every second child died — Our World in Data   In pre-modern societies with high infant mortality, only about 2–3% of the population would be living children under the age of two at any given time. Many children were born; far fewer survived those earliest years. Applying a conservative 2.5% figure to Bethlehem gives us roughly: 7–8 children under two in a village of 300 12–13 children under two in a village of 500 25 children under two even at the extreme upper estimate of 1,000 inhabitants Herod’s order, however, targeted male children only. Statistically, that halves the number. This places the likely number of victims somewhere between three and twelve boys. Matthew’s reference to ‘Bethlehem and the surrounding region’ does slightly widen the scope of Herod’s order, but not by enough to change the demographic picture. Even when nearby settlements are included (e.g. farmsteads, shepherd settlements, etc. not major cities/towns), the total number of children under two likely remained in the dozens rather than the hundreds, maybe anywhere between 14–45 boys maximum if we make an educated estimate. This is entirely consistent with what we know of population size and infant mortality in the ancient world. This is an important number to realise and consider. Not because the deaths are insignificant simply due to being so few, but because ancient historians did not record history the way we do now. A small number of peasant children killed in an obscure village would not have registered as a notable event alongside palace intrigue, royal executions, or political upheaval. For Josephus, it wou...

What Really Happened at Nicaea?

My new book is out now!
Myth, History, and the Council That Shaped Christianity

For over 1,700 years, the Council of Nicaea (AD 325) has been burdened with claims that refuse to die. That Emperor Constantine invented the Trinity. That the divinity of Jesus was decided by political vote. That the Bible was assembled to suit imperial power. That Christianity reshaped itself by absorbing pagan ideas.

This book subjects those claims to serious historical scrutiny.

BUY IT NOW

What Really Happened at Nicaea?

Close