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The Cross Is Not Up for Redefinition
Far worse than debating the preexistence or non-preexistence of Christ is this:
Changing the meaning of the cross based on that belief.
Because the gospel is not built on how we philosophically explain Christ’s origin.
It is built on what actually happened:
- Christ died for our sins
- He was entombed
- He was raised from the dead
That is the foundation.
And that does not change.
The problem comes when people begin to reinterpret the cross itself in order to protect their position.
Some will hear “preexistence” and immediately assume:
- That Christ’s humanity was not real
- That His suffering was not genuine
- That He had some advantage that made the experience easier
- That it becomes mythological or less grounded
But notice what is happening.
They are not responding to what others actually believe.
They are responding to what they think it must mean.
So instead of engaging the truth, they project their own definitions onto it.
They ignore what Scripture says—that Christ:
- emptied Himself
- took the form of a servant
- came in the likeness of men
- was found as a man
- became obedient unto death
They ignore that those who believe in preexistence affirm that Christ fully entered the human condition, without shortcut, without advantage, without removing the reality of suffering.
And then they replace that with their own assumption:
“If He preexisted, then His humanity must not be real.”
That is not exegesis.
That is philosophy imposed on the text.
And here is why this matters so much.
Because once you start redefining Christ’s experience based on your assumptions, you begin to reshape the cross itself.
- You make it less real
- You make it less grounded
- You make it something other than what Scripture presents
And that is far worse than simply holding the wrong view on preexistence.
Let it be said plainly:
If Christ did not preexist, I am still saved.
I am saved by:
- His death for sin
- His entombment
- His resurrection
That is the gospel.
But what must never happen is this:
That we change the meaning of His death
That we alter the reality of His suffering
That we redefine the cross to fit our system
Because the cross does not belong to our philosophy.
It stands on its own.
Truth
You can debate origin.
You can debate preexistence.
But you cannot touch the cross.
Because the moment you start reshaping it to fit your assumptions, you are no longer defending truth—you are rewriting it.
Christ’s Preexistence in Plain Scripture
Before going into the Scriptures, this must be addressed clearly.
There are those who argue that ideas like Christ’s preexistence must be false because pagan religions and Gnostic systems also speak of:
- gods using agents to create the world
- divine beings entering flesh
- complex divine hierarchies or trinities
But this argument does not hold.
The existence of false versions does not cancel out the true revelation.
Pagan religions distort many things that are real:
- sacrifice
- judgment
- divine beings
- resurrection themes
Yet no one argues that because pagans had distorted sacrifices, biblical sacrifice must be false.
The same applies here.
Just because false systems imitate or distort truth does not mean Scripture is saying something false.
It simply means truth can be copied, twisted, or counterfeited.
So the question is not:
- Do other religions have similar ideas?
The question is:
- What does Scripture actually say?
Because Scripture does not borrow its authority from paganism—it stands on its own revelation.
And if Scripture plainly teaches something about Christ, then pointing to distorted versions elsewhere does not undo it.
It only distracts from the real issue:
Are we going to let Scripture speak plainly,
or are we going to reinterpret it to avoid certain conclusions?
The Actual Question
When it comes to Christ’s preexistence, the issue is simple:
What do the texts actually say if you let them speak plainly?
Because the passages that support Christ’s preexistence do not sound like someone who existed only as an idea in God’s mind.
They speak of:
- coming down
- being sent
- having glory before the world
- being with God
- becoming flesh
- emptying Himself
To deny preexistence, you do not merely “read differently.”
You must repeatedly shift words away from their normal meaning and replace direct statements with abstraction.
I am not saying every verse is equally strong.
But I am saying the plain reading consistently points in one direction.
The Exaltation of Christ
Let me be clear—I never want to accused of nor associate myself with any teaching that minimizes Christ in any way, shape or form.
Scripture does the exact opposite—it exalts Him beyond comprehension.
He is not secondary.
He is not optional.
He is not a side figure in God’s plan.
He is the image of the invisible God—the visible expression of the unseen God, the way God makes Himself known. Paul makes this unmistakable: all things were created through Him and for Him. Creation is not just “from” God—it is actively carried out through Christ.
He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. He does not simply exist within creation—He sustains it. Everything continues because of Him.
And Paul goes further: He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead. So Christ stands at both ends—at the beginning of creation and at the beginning of new creation. And the conclusion is just as sweeping: through Him, all things are reconciled.
All things. Not some—all.
What God has done is unmistakable:
He has placed Christ at the center of creation, the center of redemption, and the center of the final reconciliation of all things.
So the goal is not to win an argument.
The goal is this:
To see Christ as Scripture reveals Him—
fully exalted, fully central, and absolutely essential to everything God has done, is doing, and will do.
The Humanity of Jesus—and What It Does Not Explain
There are many who insist that Jesus is 100% human only, as if that settles the matter. But that claim begins to unravel the moment we actually look at what Scripture says and shows.
People argue about names—Is it Yahweh? Which God do you worship?
Here is the answer:
I worship the God and Father of my Lord Jesus Christ
One God, One Lord
I define God this way because Jesus is the perfect image and expression of God, and the Father is the true God whom He reveals. The God Jesus represents is the one true God—and you cannot separate the revelation from the One being revealed.
But now we must deal honestly with the claim:
“Jesus is only 100% human.”
Does Scripture support that?
In Luke 8:46, Jesus says:
“Someone touched Me; I know that power has gone out from Me.”
Think about that.
- Power went out from Him
- He felt it leave
- It happened even before He identified who touched Him
Is that human power?
Do humans have power flowing out of them like this—healing others—without even consciously directing it?
No.
That is not human ability.
That is divine power operating through Him—flowing from Him.
And Jesus Himself recognizes it: “I know that power has gone out from Me.”
So the question becomes unavoidable:
If divine power is coming out of Him,
How can He be reduced to merely human?
Humanity does not produce this.
This is something greater—something that cannot be explained by “100% human” categories.
And it doesn’t stop there.
In Luke 5:21, the scribes say:
“Who can forgive sins but God alone?”
Yet Jesus forgives sins.
So now we have:
- Divine power flowing from Him
- Divine authority exercised by Him
And still we are told He is only human?
Then comes the question of worship.
Some say: “You should not worship Jesus.”
But look at what Scripture shows.
In Matthew 28:18, Jesus declares:
“All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to Me.”
And when Thomas sees the risen Christ, he responds in John 20:28:
“My Lord and my God!”
He worships Him.
And Jesus does not correct him.
Why?
Because to worship Jesus is to worship the very revelation and activity of God.
Not because Jesus is the Father,
but because He perfectly expresses and carries out the will, power, and purpose of God.
The Core Issue
This is the problem with reducing Jesus to “100% human only”:
It cannot explain the power
It cannot explain the authority
It cannot explain the worship
It ends up forcing you to reinterpret or minimize what Scripture plainly shows.
Truth
- Divine power came out of Him
- He forgave sins
- He was worshiped without correction
That is not the profile of a mere man.
So when you worship Jesus, you are not misplacing worship—
You are worshiping what God is doing, revealing, and accomplishing through Him.
And in doing so, you are not diminishing God—
You are agreeing with how God has chosen to make Himself known.
God Works Through Christ
Yes, Scripture says God is the Savior of all mankind.
But He accomplishes this through Christ.
God works through His image—not apart from Him. Creation comes through Him. Redemption comes through Him. Reconciliation comes through Him. God does all—but He does all through His Son.
You Don’t Honor God by Minimizing Christ
Taking away from Christ is not honoring God—it is insulting God.
God Himself has exalted Christ. So to diminish Him, sideline Him, or reduce Him to “just a man” is not humility—it is resistance to what God has declared.
Worshiping and exalting Christ is not competition with God—it is honoring God. Because Christ is the image through whom God reveals Himself and accomplishes everything.
Yes, God and Christ are not the same being. Christ is the Son, from God. But that does not mean you separate them in honor, as if lifting up Christ somehow takes away from God.
It’s the opposite.
To exalt Christ is to exalt the One who sent Him.
Yes, Jesus says, “…for the Father is greater than I.” He also says, “I and the Father, We are one.”
The first statement refers to the positioning of God being the Father and Jesus being the Son Who came out of the Father.
The second statement speaks of God and Christ’s united purpose, will, and divine work.
A Necessary Warning
This is where a serious line is being crossed.
To say Christ should not be worshiped…
to claim He has nothing to do with the “all in all”…
to deliberately diminish Him—even down to how His name is treated—
this is not a harmless difference in interpretation.
It is a rejection of the honor God Himself has given Him.
Scripture presents Christ as the One through whom all things exist, are sustained, and are reconciled. To strip Him of that role is not correction—it is contradiction.
This is not something to take lightly.
Because when you diminish the Son, you are pushing against the very way God has chosen to reveal Himself.
An Overreaction That Misses the Truth
Much of this confusion comes from reacting against false teaching—like the Trinity—and swinging too far the other way.
In trying to avoid one error, some create another by separating Christ from God so sharply that they strip Him of the very role Scripture gives Him.
But Scripture does not present Christ as separate in purpose or importance.
It presents Him as the means through which God does everything.
So you don’t honor God instead of Christ.
You don’t exalt Christ apart from God.
You honor God through Christ—because that is how God has chosen to be known.
You Can’t Redefine “Through”
Paul is consistent:
- All things were created through Him
- All things are reconciled through Him
- Reconciliation comes through the blood of His cross
So the question is unavoidable:
Does “through Him” mean one thing in creation—and something else in redemption?
Does it mean “an idea in God’s mind” in one verse—but the real Christ and the real cross in the next?
It cannot.
You cannot change the meaning of the same word in the same context.
Paul is establishing one consistent reality:
Everything God does—He does through Christ.
Clarity
Scripture is not unclear—people resist what it plainly says.
Christ is:
- the image of God
- the agent of creation
- the sustainer of all things
- the firstborn from the dead
- the One through whom all things are reconciled
The One who is the firstborn of all creation
is also the firstborn from the dead—
the One who carries creation from beginning to completion.
God does all—
but He does all through Christ.
To diminish Christ is not humility.
It is a rejection of the very structure God Himself established.
A Necessary Starting Point: How the New Testament Speaks
Before anything else, this has to be settled.
The writers of the New Testament—especially Paul—are not speaking in riddles. They are not writing like Revelation, where symbols and visions must be decoded. Paul writes plainly. The Gospels speak plainly. Statements are meant to be understood as they are given.
There are places in Scripture where you must recognize both the relative (human experience) and the absolute (God’s sovereignty) to avoid contradiction. For example:
- Pharaoh hardened his heart… and God hardened Pharaoh’s heart.
- “Work out your own salvation”… for “God works in you to will and to do.”
If you don’t recognize both perspectives, the Bible appears to contradict itself. But when you do, the tension resolves.
That is a real interpretive category.
But that is not what is happening with Christ’s pre-existence.
There is no tension here.
No dual perspective to balance.
There are only direct statements.
This is not like teachings such as the salvation of all or God’s sovereignty, where people resist what is plainly written due to tradition. In those cases, the language is still clear—people just reject the conclusion.
To deny pre-existence, you are not interpreting—you are overriding plain language.
You are taking what is clear and saying, “That’s not what it means.”
And once you do that, you’ve abandoned the very way Scripture communicates.
The Direct Testimony: Christ Speaks as One Who Was There
Jesus does not speak in abstractions.
He speaks personally:
“I have come down from heaven.” —John 6:38
“What if you see the Son of Man ascending to where He was before?” —John 6:62
“You are from below; I am from above.” —John 8:23
“Before Abraham was, I am.” —John 8:58
These are not statements of plan or idea.
They are statements of presence.
In prayer, He says:
“The glory I had with You before the world existed.” —John 17:5
Not “planned.”
Not “intended.”
But had.
Paul confirms:
“The second man is from heaven.” —1 Corinthians 15:47
This is direct testimony.
To deny it, you must reinterpret plain speech into symbolism.
Like Us — and Not Like Us
Scripture holds both truths:
He is like us:
“The Word became flesh.” —John 1:14
“He partook of the same.” —Hebrews 2:14
But He is not merely like us:
“The second man is from heaven.” —1 Corinthians 15:47
“The last Adam became a life-giving Spirit.” —1 Corinthians 15:45
If He were only like us—
He could only produce what we produce:
death.
But He brings:
life.
Christ the Mediator
Paul says:
“There is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus.” —1 Timothy 2:5
A mediator brings both sides together.
Humanity brings:
- sin
- death
God brings:
- righteousness
- life
- immortality
Christ brings both.
If He were 100% human with our limitations or the limitations of Adam—
He brings nothing from God.
And that is not mediation.
A Note to Non-Preexistence Believers
Let me make this very clear, because the point keeps getting missed.
I believe in the preexistence of Christ. But if Christ’s existence began in Bethlehem, that would not change anything for me. God would have made Him exactly what He needed to be—His faith, His experience, His humanity—everything necessary to deal with sin and death and to save all humanity. The gospel—His death for sin, His entombment, and His resurrection—does not move.
So from my perspective, the cross is the same either way. The difference between us is not the cross—it’s how we understand how Jesus got to be exactly what He needed to be to save. You believe His existence began in Bethlehem. I believe He preexisted. But in my view, God ensured that Christ’s faith was not less, that His experience was real, and that He was fully able to save.
What I’m pushing back on is this: many of you are saying that if preexistence is true, then Christ’s faith—the very thing we are saved by—is somehow less. You’re saying it makes Him less than fully human to the point He couldn’t truly save, and even that it makes Him mythological. Then in the next breath, you say your position doesn’t diminish the cross.
You can’t have it both ways.
If preexistence makes His faith less, then you are affecting the very thing we are saved by. If it makes Him unable to truly be human, then you are affecting His ability to save. If it makes Him mythological, then you’re not just lowering the cross—you’re removing it entirely, because we are not saved by mythology.
So let me be clear about my position.
This is about how I understand the emptying. I believe Christ was made exactly what He needed to be as a human, and that emptying includes anything that would make His faith less, make Him unreal, or make Him unable to save. That means in my view, none of those objections apply. His faith is full, His humanity is real, and His work is completely effective.
So from where I stand, the cross does not change—we simply disagree on how Christ came to be what He was.
But from your perspective, the cross does change. Because you are saying that if He preexisted, then His faith isn’t the same, He’s not as real, and He is less able to save. That’s why this matters.
And that’s the reason I’m even addressing this in the first place.
I wouldn’t have touched the preexistence debate if I hadn’t heard over and over that preexistence lessens Christ’s faith, makes Him a myth, or makes Him unable to save. That’s the real issue I’m dealing with first. Yes, I’ll go into the arguments for preexistence, but this comes before that.
Because the real point of contention is not just preexistence—it’s the meaning of the emptying.
And if Christ truly emptied Himself, then none of these objections hold. His faith is not less, His humanity is not compromised, and the cross is not diminished.
What It Means That He “Emptied Himself”
Paul writes:
“Who, being in the form of God… emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant, being made in the likeness of men.” —Philippians 2:6–7
This passage is critical, and much of the confusion comes from misunderstanding what Paul means by “emptying” and “humbling.”
They are not the same.
But many treat them as if they are—and that leads to a completely different conclusion than what Paul actually says.
The “Realization” Argument Falls Apart
A common claim is this:
Jesus lived as a man, came to realize He was the Son of God during His life, and then humbled Himself—especially at the cross.
At first glance, that may sound reasonable.
But it completely contradicts Paul’s wording.
Because Paul does not say Christ realized something.
He says Christ emptied Himself.
That is a very different idea.
What “Emptying” Actually Means
The Greek word for “emptied” (kenoō) means:
- to make empty
- to make of no effect
- to take on no reputation
- to render void
This is not about gaining knowledge or coming into awareness.
It is about laying something aside.
So ask the obvious question:
If Jesus came to a point where He realized He was the Son of God—
did He then empty Himself of that knowledge?
Did He make that realization “of no effect”?
Did He render it void?
Was He no longer the Son of God?
Of course not.
That makes no sense.
Which shows the problem immediately.
The “realization” view is trying to explain the passage using a category that doesn’t fit the word Paul uses.
Emptying Is Not Humbling
This confusion usually comes from collapsing “emptying” into “humbling.”
Of course everyone that believes in the preexistance of Christ would say that Christ had to ‘humble’ Himself to become a human being.
However, that is not the word Paul uses here. He uses ‘emptied’ for a reason.
Paul separates these words clearly.
He says:
“He emptied Himself… being made in the likeness of men… and being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself, becoming obedient to death…” —Philippians 2:7–8
The order matters:
- He emptied Himself → by becoming human
- He humbled Himself → by going to the cross
These are two different actions.
Two different meanings.
The text does not say:
“He humbled Himself to become human.”
It says:
He emptied Himself to become human,
and then humbled Himself to die.
Why the Timing Matters
If the “form of God” simply means Jesus later realized who He was, then the emptying would have to happen after that realization.
But that creates an impossible situation.
Because emptying means to make something of no effect.
So again:
Did Christ realize He was the Son of God—and then empty Himself of that realization?
Did He discard it?
Set it aside?
Make it void?
Did He make the fact that He was the Son of God ‘Of no effect?’
No.
So that interpretation cannot work.
What the Text Actually Says
Paul is not describing a moment of realization.
He is describing a transition.
Christ was in the form of God.
Then He emptied Himself.
And how did He do that?
By taking the form of a servant—by becoming human.
Let’s Review
Jesus had to enter the system of death and decay in order to free creation from it. And when it comes to the Jesus within that system—the one who was crucified, entombed, and raised—there is no difference to me whether you believe He preexisted or not. It is the same Jesus and Him crucified.
Think of it like this: an incredibly powerful man saves the world from an alien force. Everyone agrees on what matters—he lived here, fought in our condition, and saved humanity. The disagreement is about his origin. Some say he was born on earth and became what he became. Others say he came from another world and chose to enter into human life. But once he is here, facing the same battle under the same conditions, his origin doesn’t change what he did.
That’s my point with Christ.
In either case, He fully entered our condition and was made exactly what was necessary to save—emptying Himself of anything that would lessen His faith, make His humanity unreal, or prevent Him from truly sharing in death and bringing us out of it. God made Him everything He needed to be within that system, even in a way that would satisfy the nonpreexistence view.
So when I say this, I mean it is the exact same Christ—same faith, same experience, same humanity. But when others say His faith would be less or that He wasn’t fully human, they don’t realize I’m already saying He is exactly the same—they assume it can’t be because of preexistence.
And the “lesser faith” argument really breaks down. Even in your view, Jesus was anointed by God, heard God’s voice, and saw the Spirit descend. Wouldn’t that aid His faith? Would He even need faith the way you’re arguing? That has the same effect you claim preexistence would have—so what are you actually saying?
At the end of the day, we are saved by a specific Jesus—the one who did everything He needed to do, was everything He needed to be, and experienced everything necessary to save us through His death, entombment, and resurrection. If you believe in preexistence, this is the Jesus who saves you. If you believe in nonpreexistence, this is still the Jesus who saves you. If you think your position changes who that Jesus is, then you’re not arguing about what that Jesus is—you’re denying that God made Him exactly what He needed to be to save.
And I’ll go further: if Christ preexisted and through Him God created all things, then He chose to enter death at the hands of the very people He created. That doesn’t lessen anything—it magnifies the love. That’s not just a man later anointed; that’s one who chose to enter suffering and death to save. And all of it is of God.
Why “Form of God” Cannot Mean Operating as God During His Life
If “the form of God” is defined as Christ being godlike—meaning not subject to decay, not bound to death, not under corruption—then that creates a problem that cannot be resolved.
Because humanity is not just a label. It is a condition.
To be human is to be:
- subject to decay
- bound to mortality
- under limitation
- within a system of corruption and death
That is not something you step into later.
That is something you are born into.
So if Christ was, at any point during His earthly life, operating in a state where He was not subject to decay, not bound by mortality, or not fully within that system, then He was not fully sharing in the human condition.
And that breaks everything.
Because you cannot enter into slavery to corruption halfway through life. You cannot begin outside of decay and then later become subject to it. You do not transition into mortality—you begin in it.
So if someone says Christ was in the “form of God” during part of His life—meaning He existed in a state like God, untouched by decay and corruption—then they are saying there was a point where He was not fully human.
And if He was not fully within the condition of humanity from the beginning, then He did not fully enter it.
And if He did not fully enter it, then He cannot fully represent it.
Because God, by nature, is not subject to decay, sin, or death at all. So if “form of God” means He retained that kind of existence during His life, then He was never fully within the system He came to save.
But that is not what Scripture presents.
Christ does not step into humanity later.
He enters it completely.
From the beginning.
So the only way this works is if “the form of God” is not something He continued operating in during His earthly life, but something He emptied Himself from in order to fully enter the human condition.
Because if He did not begin fully within that condition—
then He did not fully enter it.
And if He did not fully enter it—
then He cannot lead humanity out of it.
The Problem with Redefining “Form of God”
Now take this one step further.
If “the form of God” is reduced to Jesus simply being human, or using God-given power, then what exactly is He emptying Himself from?
Because emptying implies giving something up.
If the claim is that He is only an anointed man using God’s power, then emptying would mean that at some point He was operating outside of humility—using His standing, knowledge, or position for Himself—and then had to stop.
But that creates a bigger problem.
It would mean:
- He was at some point acting outside of full humility
- He was using His position in a way that required correction
- He had something to “give up” because He was operating improperly
And that does not fit the testimony of Scripture at all.
Christ is never presented as someone who needed to stop misusing His position.
He is presented as One who enters into humanity and lives in complete dependence and obedience from the beginning.
So emptying cannot mean “He stopped using power wrongly.”
It must mean He entered a different condition altogether.
The Misunderstanding About Faith
Another argument is:
“If Christ pre-existed, then He wouldn’t need faith.”
But that completely misunderstands what “emptying” means.
Emptying is not theoretical—it is real.
It means entering into:
- dependence
- limitation
- full human experience
Scripture shows Him:
- praying
- submitting
- obeying
That is not artificial.
That is lived dependence.
So pre-existence does not remove His humanity—
emptying is what makes His humanity real.
The Love of Christ Demonstrated
Scripture does not leave the love of Christ vague or abstract—it defines it, and then shows it.
In John 15:13, Jesus Himself says:
“Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for his friends.”
And Paul echoes that same reality personally in Galatians 2:20:
“…the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.”
Put those together, and the conclusion is unavoidable:
Jesus defines the greatest possible love
Then demonstrates it Himself
Here, Jesus is not merely speaking about love—He is revealing His own love by dying.
And this is where something deeper must be understood.
God, in His nature, cannot die.
Yet Scripture says that God shows His love by sending His Son to die for the world.
So the cross is not just God loving us in a distant or symbolic way—it is Jesus Himself loving us, entering into death on our behalf.
And that raises a powerful question:
If God can show His love by sending His Son…
Why can’t God also show His love through the Son Himself choosing to enter the human condition and die?
Would that not reveal an even deeper expression of love?
Not just appearing.
Not just performing a role.
But entering fully into humanity—into suffering, weakness, and death itself.
Because love is not merely doing what is required.
Love is choosing to give yourself.
What Gets Diminished
And this is where denying preexistence begins to diminish what Scripture presents—not because it must, but because of how it is often argued.
If Christ is only a man who began at birth, then His death is often reduced to:
- a role He was assigned
- a mission He was obligated to complete
- a function within God’s plan
But Scripture presents something far greater:
A Christ who gives Himself
A Christ who lays down His life willingly
A Christ who enters into the human condition, not out of obligation, but out of love
Like Adam choosing Eve, entering into her condition, Christ enters into ours—into mortality and death.
And in doing so, He does not merely complete a task—
He reveals the very heart of God.
Because the cross is not just about what was accomplished.
It is about what was revealed:
The love of God, expressed through Christ—
not only in being sent,
but in choosing to give Himself completely.
Final Clarity
Christ was in the form of God.
Then He emptied Himself.
And He did that by becoming human.
Not by realizing something.
Not by redefining Himself.
Not by correcting misuse.
He emptied Himself into the full human condition—
and then, as a man,
He humbled Himself all the way to the cross.
That is the order Paul gives.
And that is the only reading that makes sense of the text.
Conclusion: When Plain Statements Have to Be Rewritten
I got a response from the non-preexistence task force saying that believing in Christ’s preexistence makes His faith less. What’s wrong with that?
My response is this: first of all, that same group also says that believing in preexistence makes Jesus mythological. So don’t hide behind the idea that this is just a small disagreement. We can disagree—but saying it makes Him a myth is not a disagreement, it’s a blatant and offensive failure to understand or even acknowledge the other side’s position. Because if you actually understood what I mean by “emptying,” you would know we’re talking about the same Jesus. The disagreement is not about who He is in the system, but about how His origin did or didn’t impact Him—while still affirming that God made Him exactly what He needed to be to save. To say preexistence makes Him a myth is not just wrong—it’s disgusting. So let’s be clear.
They say Christ’s faith would be less if He preexisted. But John 17:5 doesn’t say He carried the experience of that prior glory into His earthly life—it simply says He knew of it. And if “emptying” means anything, it includes setting aside whatever would have given Him an advantage that would lessen His faith. So at most, He knew His origin—not that He lived off prior experience.
Now think about His life. He saw the Spirit descend like a dove. He heard the voice of God. He faced the devil directly and overcame him. He raised the dead, healed the sick, made the lame walk, turned water into wine, and walked on water. So how is that different? If the argument is that knowledge of origin would lessen His faith, then wouldn’t all of these experiences do the same? In fact, wouldn’t they reinforce His identity even more? If He “came to realize who He was,” then how is that any different in effect from what they say preexistence would do?
And it goes even deeper than that. In the garden, when Jesus prayed, there was no response—silence. Think about that. If He had known constant communion—whether through prior existence or even just throughout His earthly life where He heard God’s voice—then suddenly, nothing. And on the cross, He cries out that He is forsaken. So whatever awareness, experience, or relationship He had—there comes a moment where it is stripped away at the most critical point.
That doesn’t make faith easier—that makes it harder.
To go from knowing, hearing, seeing…to silence…to abandonment…that would require a level of faith beyond anything we can measure. So the idea that preexistence—or even divine confirmation during His life—would somehow make His faith less doesn’t hold. If anything, the contrast of having and then losing that immediate sense of God’s presence would demand an even greater faith to endure the cross.
That’s the problem with the argument—it assumes we can measure Christ’s faith by putting ourselves in His position. But we can’t. We have no idea what it took for Him to go to the cross. Whatever He knew, whatever He experienced, none of it reduced the faith required to face death and overcome it.
His faith wasn’t less.
It was exactly what it needed to be—and far beyond anything any of us could ever muster.
“The glory I had with You before the world existed.” (John 17:5)
→ Becomes: “The glory planned for me before the world existed.”
A statement of something actually possessed becomes something only intended. How can ‘I’ become something other than a real experience? Could Jesus say ‘I had’ something (glory) if He was not an existing being?
“I have come down from heaven.” (John 6:38)
→ Becomes: “I came from God in purpose or mission.”
But if Jesus is only speaking about purpose, then the next part of the verse becomes unnecessary. He immediately says He came not to do His own will, but the will of the One who sent Him. If “coming down from heaven” already meant His purpose or mission, then why restate that purpose right after?
That would make the statement redundant.
The flow of the verse makes more sense if “coming down from heaven” is about origin, and “not my will, but His” explains the purpose of that coming. Otherwise, you’re turning two distinct statements into the same idea repeated twice.
“What if you see the Son of Man ascend to where He was before?” (John 6:62)
→ Becomes: “Ascend to the position God planned for Him.”
A statement of prior existence and location gets turned into a future role.
But look at the context. In this passage, Jesus is directly referencing the manna God gave Israel in the time of Moses—the bread that was said to come down from heaven. That wasn’t symbolic language. It was understood as something that actually came from heaven and was given to them to eat.
The text even uses the idea of it “raining down” from heaven.
And what do we mean by rain?
When something rains down, it comes from above to below. It does not originate on the ground and get called “rain” metaphorically. Rain doesn’t grow out of the earth—it descends from the sky.
So are we supposed to believe the manna didn’t actually come down from heaven? That it somehow originated on earth but was just called “rain from heaven”? Of course not—that would completely empty the language of its meaning.
Then Jesus says He is the true bread that comes down from heaven.
So the comparison only works if both are real in the same way. If the manna truly came down from heaven, then what Jesus is saying about Himself carries the same weight. Otherwise, the entire analogy collapses.
And then verse 62 presses it even further: “ascend to where He was before.” That’s not just descent—it’s return. It reinforces that He is going back to a place He already was.
So instead of clarifying it away, the passage doubles down: Jesus is not just given from heaven—He came from there and returns to where He was before.
“Before Abraham was, I am.” (John 8:58)
→ Becomes: “I existed in God’s plan before Abraham.”
A direct claim of existence is turned into an abstract idea.
But look at the exchange. Jesus is speaking to people who bring up Abraham, and they respond, “You are not even fifty years old.” They’re clearly talking about age—about actual, lived existence. Jesus answers in the same category, but goes beyond it: “Before Abraham came into being, I am.” He contrasts Abraham’s coming into existence with His own present, ongoing existence.
They understood exactly what He was saying—that He existed before Abraham. That’s why they picked up stones. Not because He claimed to be a “future plan,” but because they heard a claim that went beyond normal human existence.
If He only meant, “I existed in God’s plan,” there were simple ways to say that without provoking that reaction: “The idea of me was before Abraham,” or “the Messiah was planned before Abraham.” That would not have triggered a charge of blasphemy.
But He didn’t correct their reaction. He didn’t soften it. He let their understanding stand.
So to turn this into non-existence language—just a plan or idea—means the entire conversation becomes indirect and misleading, like there are speaking in secret codes. The force of what He says, and the reaction it provokes, only make sense if He’s speaking about real existence, not a concept.
“The second man is the Lord out of heaven.” (1 Corinthians 15:47–48)
→ Becomes: “This only refers to His life after resurrection,” or “‘from heaven’ just means His purpose or role from God.”
So now “from heaven” is either pushed into a later phase or reduced to a statement about purpose, even though the verse is describing what He is, not just what He becomes after death. The language gets limited to avoid what it naturally implies.
And this usually comes after verse 46 is already handled the same way—where “the last Adam became a life-giving Spirit” is pushed entirely into the post-resurrection phase. That’s a major assumption, but even setting that aside, the next verse becomes the real issue.
Because Paul makes a direct comparison.
He says the first man, Adam, is from the earth—dust, soil. That’s not symbolic. That’s not “in God’s mind.” That’s not something Adam “became later.” That is a literal statement of origin. Adam came from the ground—dust to dust.
Then Paul immediately parallels it:
The second man is the Lord out of heaven.
Same structure. Same kind of statement.
So if Adam being “out of the earth” is literal—and everyone agrees it is—then to stay consistent, Christ being “out of heaven” must also be literal. You can’t take the first half as a real origin and the second half as either a later phase or merely a purpose of God.
Otherwise, the comparison breaks.
Adam was not an idea. He was not a future plan. He did not become earthly later—he came from the earth.
So when Paul says Christ is the second man out of heaven, the most natural reading is the same kind of statement: origin, not just role or timing.
Anything else forces the verse into two different meanings within the same sentence—one literal, one symbolic—just to avoid what the text is plainly saying.
“All things were created through Him.” (Colossians 1:16)
→ Becomes: “Only the new creation is through Him.”
Or even more simply: “God created everything with Jesus in mind.” Convenient.
But that creates a bigger issue. The text explicitly includes all things—thrones, dominions, rulers, authorities. These are real structures within creation, yet Scripture also says these same powers are eventually abolished when everything is brought to completion.
So if “all things” only refers to the new creation, then why are temporary authorities included—things that don’t even remain? They are not part of the final state. They belong to the original creation order, not just a future one.
That means when Paul says all things were created through Him, he is speaking about the totality of creation from the beginning—including things that will later be subjected and abolished. Otherwise, the language collapses. You can’t restrict “all things” to the new creation while including things that are removed once the work is finished.
So “through Him” cannot be reduced to intention or future purpose—it refers to real agency in the creation of all things.
“He is before all things.” (Colossians 1:17)
→ Becomes: “He has priority or rank over all things.”
“Before” is redefined so it no longer speaks of existence, but only status.
But look at the flow of the passage. In verse 16, Paul says all things were created through Him—real things, including thrones, dominions, rulers, and authorities. Then in verse 17 he adds, “and He is before all things.” The “and” matters. Paul is not repeating himself—he’s building on what he just said.
First, all things are created through Him.
And in addition to that, He is before all things.
That naturally reads as existence prior to what was created, not just rank within it.
Then Paul continues and moves into something different—Christ as firstborn from the dead, which points to the new creation that follows Him. So the passage has a progression: creation → preexistence in relation to creation → new creation.
And this is where the limitation of the non-preexistence reading breaks down.
Because “all things created through Him” cannot be restricted to only the new creation. The text explicitly includes powers and authorities—things that are later abolished when everything is brought into completion. In the new creation, those things are gone. Sin, death, and every opposing structure are removed.
So if those things are included in what was created through Him, then Paul is clearly talking about the original creation order—not just the new creation.
Which means:
- Verse 16 = all creation (including what will later be abolished)
- Verse 17 = He is before that creation
- Then Paul moves to resurrection and new creation
But instead of following that flow, the statement gets reduced to rank, or everything gets pushed into “God’s mind”—as if all of this is just conceptual rather than actual.
And at that point, the language is no longer being read as written—it’s being redefined to avoid what it plainly says.
“The Word became flesh.” (John 1:14)
→ Becomes: “God’s plan or message became a person.”
A real transition from one state to another gets reduced to an abstract idea becoming visible.
But look at how Scripture frames this. Jesus repeatedly says He is doing the will of the Father—and that includes speaking the Father’s words. So yes, He is the expression of God. But John 1 goes further than just saying He speaks for God.
It says:
- All things came into being through the Word
- In Him was life
- That life was the light of men
- He became flesh
- He came to His own
That’s not just a message or a plan—that’s a subject acting, existing, creating, and then becoming something He was not before.
And that last part matters: “He came to His own.”
How can He have “His own” if He never existed? Ownership implies relationship, not just assignment. It doesn’t say the plan came to its own—it says He did.
Then in Revelation 19:13, Jesus is explicitly called “the Word of God.”
So is He a non-existent future plan there? Or is He still the same One identified as the Word?
And go back to creation:
- Genesis 1:3 — “God said, ‘Let there be light.’”
God creates by speaking—by His Word. Light comes into existence through that Word before anything else.
So when John says “the Word became flesh,” he’s not introducing an abstract concept suddenly becoming visible. He’s identifying that same creative, life-giving Word as now entering humanity.
To turn that into “just a plan” removes the continuity John is building—from creation, to life, to light, to incarnation.
And this is the pattern.
Every direct statement—about being with God, coming from heaven, existing before, creating, sharing glory—has to be reinterpreted, softened, or turned into something symbolic. Not because the language is unclear, but because the conclusion is rejected.
And this is where I see something bigger.
This method of handling Scripture starts to look very similar to other interpretive approaches—like preterism taken to its extreme, or the “Jews-only” and Acts 28 frameworks—where plain statements are consistently turned into something symbolic. In those systems, real promises become spiritualized, real events become metaphor, and real outcomes are pushed into abstraction.
And what ends up happening?
We are effectively written out of the story in any real sense—reduced to symbols. Sin and death are said to be defeated, but not in a tangible, actual way—more in concept than in reality. The victory becomes something distant, interpreted, or internalized rather than something that truly happened and will fully manifest.
That’s the direction this method leads.
And that’s really where my issue is.
Because in my own study, God has revealed truth through a consistent method: take the direct statements of Scripture seriously, let them say what they say, and build from there. That method has brought clarity across so many topics.
But on this issue, if I’m wrong, then that method breaks down.
Because now the plainest statements—statements that read like direct testimony—don’t actually mean what they say. They have to be explained away through layers of interpretation, built on opinions and assumptions stacked on top of each other.
So I’m left with this:
For me, it is the same Jesus either way—the same one who entered the system, lived, died, was entombed, and was raised to save. That doesn’t change.
But if I am wrong about preexistence, then it means that on this topic, God has not spoken plainly the way He has elsewhere in my understanding—and that the method that has brought clarity no longer applies here.
I don’t want to be wrong.
But if that’s the case, then so be it.
I’ll accept that.
I just can’t ignore what the text actually says to get there.
Saved ignoble 
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