One of the most memorable claims from the documentary Zeitgeist is also one of its most linguistically absurd: that Jesus Christ is not the “Son of God” but the “Sun of God”—a solar deity wrapped in religious allegory. The film presents this as though it were a devastating revelation, exposing Christianity’s supposed astronomical origins. The audience is invited to hear the obvious phonetic similarity—“Sun” and “Son”—and conclude that Jesus is merely a personification of our nearest star.
It is a clever rhetorical move. It is also completely wrong.
The Central Claim
The argument can be stated simply: Zeitgeist asserts that the title “Son of God” is really a thinly veiled reference to “Sun of God.” The wordplay is meant to suggest that early Christians were encoding solar worship into their theology, disguising astronomical allegory as historical religion.
If true, this would fundamentally undermine the historical claims of Christianity. Jesus would not be a person who lived, taught, died, and rose again—he would be a symbol, a metaphor for celestial mechanics. The incarnation, the atonement, the resurrection: all reduced to creative storytelling about the winter solstice.
Our Starting Point
Before examining this claim, I should be transparent about my commitments. I approach this question as a Christian who believes Scripture is authoritative and trustworthy. I also believe that Christianity makes historical claims that can be examined using the tools of historical inquiry. If the evidence showed that “Son of God” derived from solar mythology, I would need to reckon with that. But the evidence shows precisely the opposite.
The Strongest Version of the Argument
To be fair to those who find this claim persuasive, let us state it in its most compelling form.
The argument observes that “Sun” and “Son” are homophones in English—they sound identical. This acoustic similarity, combined with the Christian doctrine that Jesus is the “light of the world” (John 8:12) and references to him as the “Sun of righteousness” (Malachi 4:2), suggests a deliberate association. Some proponents argue that early Christians borrowed solar imagery from pagan religions—Egyptian worship of Ra, Persian veneration of Mithra, Roman celebration of Sol Invictus—and wrapped it in the language of Israelite religion. The title “Son of God,” on this reading, is simply “Sun of God” with religious dressing.
This argument gains traction because it feels intuitive to English speakers. We hear “Sun” and “Son” as interchangeable. The connection seems obvious.
But obvious is not the same as accurate.
Why This Argument Appeals
There are understandable reasons why this claim resonates with modern audiences.
First, there is genuine historical precedent for religious syncretism. The Roman Empire was a religious marketplace, and various cults did borrow from one another. When Constantine later made Christianity legal, critics have long wondered whether pagan elements were smuggled into the faith. The “Sun/Son” argument plays into this suspicion.
Second, conspiracy narratives are inherently compelling. The idea that a hidden truth lies beneath official doctrine—that religious authorities have been deceiving us for millennia—appeals to our desire for secret knowledge. Zeitgeist presents itself as lifting the veil.
Third, many people have encountered Christianity only in its cultural or nominal forms. If you have never studied the languages of the Bible or the history of its composition, the “Sun/Son” wordplay might seem like a genuine discovery rather than an embarrassing error.
The Fatal Flaw: Languages Matter
Here is the problem: the phonetic similarity between “Sun” and “Son” exists only in modern English. It did not exist in any of the languages in which the New Testament was written, the Old Testament was composed, or Jesus actually spoke.
Let us examine the evidence.
Hebrew (the language of the Old Testament):
- The word for “sun” is shemesh (שֶׁמֶשׁ)
- The word for “son” is ben (בֵּן)
These words share no phonetic or etymological connection. They do not sound alike. They are not spelled alike. They derive from entirely different roots.
Aramaic (the language Jesus spoke):
- The word for “sun” is shimsha
- The word for “son” is bar or bera
Again, completely distinct. When Jesus cried out on the cross in Aramaic, when he called God Abba (Father), when he referred to himself as the “Son of Man” (bar enasha), he was using words that bear no resemblance to solar terminology.
Greek (the language of the New Testament):
- The word for “sun” is hēlios (ἥλιος)
- The word for “son” is huios (υἱός)
Not even close. The Apostle Paul, the Gospel writers, and every author of the New Testament used huios when writing about Jesus as God’s Son. No Greek speaker would have heard a solar pun.
Latin (the language of the Western church):
- The word for “sun” is sol
- The word for “son” is filius
The Latin Vulgate, which shaped Western Christian vocabulary for over a millennium, uses filius for “son.” Sol and filius are phonetically and etymologically unrelated.
The “Sun/Son” connection works only if you read the New Testament in English—a language that did not exist until over a thousand years after Jesus’ death. It is like claiming that the French word poisson (fish) is related to the English word poison because they sound similar. The resemblance is accidental and meaningless.
What “Son of God” Actually Meant
If the title “Son of God” did not come from solar worship, where did it come from? The answer is well-documented: it came from the Hebrew Scriptures and Jewish tradition.
Royal Sonship. In 2 Samuel 7:14, God speaks of David’s heir: “I will be his father, and he shall be my son.” Psalm 2:7, a coronation psalm, declares: “You are my son; today I have begotten you.” In Israelite thought, the king was adopted as God’s son—not biologically, but covenantally. The title indicated a unique relationship of authority and representation. When Jesus claimed to be the Son of God, he was making a royal and messianic claim that his Jewish contemporaries understood perfectly.
National Sonship. Israel itself was called God’s son. In Hosea 11:1, God says: “Out of Egypt I called my son.” This referred to the nation’s exodus from slavery. The title expressed covenant relationship, not celestial parentage.
Righteous Individuals. In Jewish wisdom literature, the righteous person who obeys God is called a “son of God” (see Sirach 4:10, Wisdom of Solomon 2:18). This indicated intimacy and faithfulness, not astronomical identity.
The Messiah. By the first century, “Son of God” had become a title for the expected Messiah—the anointed king from David’s line who would deliver Israel. When Peter confessed Jesus as “the Christ, the Son of the living God” (Matthew 16:16), he was using established Jewish vocabulary, not inventing solar symbolism.
None of this requires borrowing from Egyptian or Persian religion. The concept was native to Israel’s own scriptures and theological tradition.
The Methodology Problem
The Zeitgeist argument depends on a deeper methodological error: treating superficial similarities as evidence of historical connection.
Bart Ehrman, a New Testament scholar who is not an evangelical apologist—he identifies as agnostic—has addressed this directly. In Did Jesus Exist?, he criticizes the methodology of those who claim Christianity was borrowed from pagan myths. He notes that the “Sun/Son” pun is presented “as though it were obviously true” when it “works only in English, not in Greek or Hebrew.” Ehrman categorizes this as part of a broader pattern of “outlandish assertions” that fail to cite primary sources or understand ancient languages.
Maurice Casey, another critical scholar, is even more blunt. In Jesus: Evidence and Argument or Mythicist Myths?, he describes the mythicist approach as characterized by “linguistic incompetence.” He notes that mythicists frequently play “ludicrous word games” that ignore the historical reality that Jesus lived in an Aramaic-speaking culture. Scholarly claims require scholarly methods—engagement with primary sources, attention to original languages, awareness of historical context. The “Sun/Son” argument fails on all three counts.
What About Solar Imagery in the Bible?
Some might object: doesn’t the Bible use solar language for Jesus? Doesn’t Malachi 4:2 call him the “Sun of righteousness”? Doesn’t John describe him as the “light of the world”?
These passages are real, but they prove the opposite of what Zeitgeist claims.
First, metaphor is not identity. When the psalmist says “The Lord is my rock” (Psalm 18:2), he is not claiming God is made of stone. When Jesus says “I am the door” (John 10:9), he is not claiming to be made of wood. Light and sun imagery communicate truth about Jesus—his illuminating, life-giving, revelatory role—without claiming he is literally the astronomical sun.
Second, the biblical authors were Jews, not pagans. They were fiercely opposed to the idolatry of surrounding nations, including sun worship. The Old Testament explicitly condemns the worship of sun, moon, and stars (Deuteronomy 4:19, 2 Kings 23:5). It would be bizarre for Jewish Christians to secretly encode the very idolatry their tradition rejected.
Third, the use of solar imagery for God predates any alleged pagan borrowing. Psalm 84:11 declares: “The Lord God is a sun and shield.” This is native Israelite theology, not imported Egyptian religion. If anything, the direction of influence might run the other way—but that is a separate question.
The Historical Jesus in His Own Context
The claim that Jesus is a solar myth runs aground on another stubborn fact: there is excellent historical evidence that Jesus of Nazareth was a real person who lived in first-century Palestine.
John Meier, in his multi-volume A Marginal Jew, exhaustively reconstructs the historical Jesus using standard historical methodology. He concludes that Jesus was a Jewish teacher who operated in Galilee and Judea, gathered disciples, clashed with religious authorities, and was crucified under Pontius Pilate. This is not a mythological figure; it is a human being embedded in specific historical circumstances.
E.P. Sanders, in The Historical Figure of Jesus, reaches similar conclusions through independent analysis. He notes that Jesus’ existence is as well-attested as most figures from the ancient world—better attested than many.
Paula Fredriksen, in Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews, emphasizes that the title “Son of God” was “an ancient phrase native to Jewish tradition for designating the human messiah.” The Roman execution of Jesus by crucifixion—a punishment reserved for political criminals and insurrectionists—confirms that “Son of God” was understood as a claim to earthly, royal authority. The Romans did not execute people for being astronomical allegories.
The Persistence of a Bad Argument
If the “Sun/Son” claim is so easily refuted, why does it persist?
Partly because it sounds clever. Wordplay is memorable, and the phonetic coincidence in English makes the argument feel intuitive—even if that intuition is historically illiterate.
Partly because confirmation bias is real. If someone wants to believe Christianity is fabricated, they will find arguments that support that conclusion compelling, regardless of their quality.
Partly because refutation requires knowledge that most people lack. Few viewers of Zeitgeist know Hebrew, Aramaic, Greek, or Latin. Fewer still have read primary sources in these languages. The argument exploits ignorance, not curiosity.
And partly because the internet amplifies error as efficiently as truth. A clever-sounding claim in a viral documentary reaches millions; the scholarly refutations reach thousands.
Where Christianity Actually Stands
The “Sun/Son” argument is not a serious challenge to Christian faith. It is a linguistic accident exploited for rhetorical effect. It collapses the moment you examine the actual languages in which the Bible was written.
But let me be clear: I am not dismissing sincere questions. If you watched Zeitgeist and found this claim troubling, that is understandable. The film is well-produced and presents its claims with confidence. It is not a failure of intelligence to find persuasive rhetoric persuasive. It is, however, an invitation to dig deeper.
Christianity claims that the eternal Son of God entered human history, lived as a first-century Jewish man, died on a Roman cross, and rose from the dead. These are claims about events, not allegories. They can be examined, questioned, and evaluated. And when examined, they hold up—not because Christians are gullible, but because the evidence supports them.
The sun rises every morning, predictable and indifferent. The Son of God, according to Christian faith, entered history once, unrepeatable and decisive. Confusing the two requires not evidence but only a phonetic accident in a language that did not exist when Jesus walked the earth.
An Invitation
If you have encountered the “Sun/Son” argument and found it persuasive, I invite you to examine the sources for yourself. Read what historians and linguists actually say about the languages of the New Testament. Look at the Hebrew word ben and the Greek word huios. Consider whether an argument that works only in modern English can tell us anything about texts written two thousand years ago.
And if you have questions—about this claim or any other—I welcome the conversation. Truth is not threatened by scrutiny. It is revealed by it.
Author’s Note (2026): This article was originally written in 2013 but was never published at the time. Prior to publication in 2026, it has been carefully reviewed and updated to ensure that historical references, scholarly claims, and source material are accurate, current, and properly represented.