Jesus Prefigured: Transcendent & Immanent
God has a problem—a transcendence problem.
To transcend is to be set apart: above, beyond and outside time and space. The invisible God is utterly distinct from the created, material world.
[God] alone has immortality, who dwells in unapproachable light, whom no one has ever seen or can see. To Him be honour and eternal dominion! Amen.”
(1 Timothy 6:16)
In fact, the Scriptures are clear: no one can see God and live (Exodus 33:20; Deuteronomy 5:24–26; c. John 1:18).
I enjoy the sun’s warmth on my face—but move it just a little closer, and it would scorch the earth. In the same way, if the transcendent God stepped into creation in raw, unfiltered glory, it wouldn’t survive the unveiling.
So how does an all-powerful, infinite God make himself known to a finite, limited and fragile humanity?
Flatland: A Parable of Frustration
To illustrate the problem further, imagine a two-dimensional world called Flatland. Its inhabitants—Mr Flat and Ms Flat—live entirely on a plane. They have no concept of height or depth. To each other, they appear as simple lines.
Now, if I—a four-dimensional being (length, breadth, height and time)—decide to reveal myself, what could they possibly comprehend?
If I press one finger into Flatland, Mr Flat sees a single line. If I press three fingers, Ms Flat sees three. Neither is wrong—but neither comes close to the reality of who I am.
Predictably, the Religion of One Line and the Religion of Three Lines emerge, each convinced they’ve got “Craig” figured out. Debates, arguments and worse follow.
Then imagine, with a sigh, I accidentally press my whole hand into their world. Boom! I’d shatter all their categories, upending everything they thought they knew about me.
Or perhaps yet another religion would spring up—this one claiming it finally sees the full picture.
Such is religion.
But Jesus didn’t come to start a new religion or resuscitate an old one.
In Jesus, the transcendent God becomes immanent—present, near, within creation itself. Personal and approachable.
The invisible God becomes incarnate. He takes on flesh.
The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us. We have seen His glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.”
(John 1:14)
In Jesus, God answers the transcendence problem with immanence.
Theological Categories
Jesus didn’t just fulfil over 300 Old Testament prophecies—the Hebrew Scriptures are woven with glimpses, theological categories if you like, that prepare us for His full unveiling. The idea that the Messiah would be both God and human was not a New Testament invention; its groundwork was laid throughout the Hebrew Bible.
How? Yahweh made Himself immanent in two ways: through personified expressions like Wisdom, Glory, the Name and the Word, and through mysterious figures such as the Messenger of Yahweh and the Son of Man. Together, these revealed possibilities for a God who could be both transcendent and immanent, divine and personal: God and Human. Unlike Flatland, these were four-dimensional glimpses for a four-dimensional audience.
In the New Testament, all these threads converge in one stunning claim: Jesus is the fulfilment of them all. Not only do they point to Him, but He was pre-existent and co-creative with the Father, and He was present and active throughout the unfolding story of God.
Divine Personifications
Before we turn to the two mysterious figures, let’s first summarise the divine personifications of Wisdom, Glory, the Name and the Word. If this short section feels a bit on the dry or theoretical side, hang in there—we’ll move to the more mysterious and narrative-driven material shortly.
“Wisdom” (חָכְמָה, ḥokhmah) is consistently personified in the Hebrew Bible as a distinct, feminine figure endowed with voice, agency, moral authority and cosmic significance (Proverbs 1:20-33; 3:13-18; 8:1-36; 9:1-6; Job 28). This personification goes beyond metaphor; in Proverbs 8, Wisdom speaks as pre-existent and co-creative, present with God before the foundations of the world.
The New Testament writers identify Jesus as the wisdom and power of God, portraying Him as the ultimate embodiment and revelation of God’s wisdom (1 Corinthians 1:24; Colossians 2:2,3). Jesus is not merely the Teacher of wisdom but He is its very personification and source.
“Glory” (כָּבוֹד, kavod) is occasionally personified in the Hebrew Bible, behaving less like an abstract quality and more like a dynamic, space-filling agent (Exodus 24:16,17; 40:34,35; Psalm 24:7–10; Isaiah 6:1–4; Ezekiel 1; 10 and Habakkuk 3:3,4). In poetic and prophetic contexts, Glory takes on movement, voice and presence, blurring the line between divine attribute and the personal manifestation of Yahweh.
The New Testament writers connected this to Jesus, portraying Him as the bearer, revealer and sharer of God’s glory—past, present and future. The authors draw a direct line from the kavod of the Hebrew Bible to the doxa revealed in Christ (for example, John 1:14; Hebrews 1:3).
“The Name” (הַשֵּׁם, HaShem) is occasionally personified in the Hebrew Bible—more subtly and less frequently than Wisdom or Glory. However, in several key texts, the Name functions as more than a linguistic label, taking on agency, presence and divine representation (Exodus 23:20,21; Deuteronomy 12:5,11,21; 1 Kings 8:16-20,29,43; Psalm 20:1,7; Isaiah 30:27).
The New Testament closely and repeatedly links Jesus to “the Name”—both as the bearer of Yahweh’s Name and as the one whose own Name carries divine authority, power and presence (John 17:6,11-12,26; Acts 2:21,38; 3:6,16; 4:12; Philippians 2:9-11). This connection builds on the Hebrew Bible’s reverent portrayal of the Name as a manifestation of God Himself.
“The Word” (davar, דָּבָר) is at times personified in the Hebrew Bible, especially in poetic and prophetic texts, where it functions not merely as speech but as an active, powerful agent of God’s will. Though not as distinctly personified as Wisdom, the Word consistently displays traits of divine agency and presence (Psalm 33:6; 107:20; Isaiah 55:10,11; Jeremiah 1:4; 2:1; Ezekiel 1:3; Hosea 1:1; 1 Samuel 3:21).
The Word moves, acts, creates, heals, commissions and returns—laying the groundwork for the New Testament’s full personification in John 1, where “the Word” (Logos) is said to be with God, to be God, and to become flesh in the Messiah, Jesus. The Hebrew Bible’s portrayal of the Word as dynamic and divine makes this theological development feel deeply rooted in the unfolding revelation of God rather than sudden or abrupt.
Now let’s turn to the first of the mysterious figures that appear in the Old Testament.
The Messenger of Yahweh
On at least twenty-five occasions in the Hebrew Bible, a figure known as the Messenger of Yahweh (מַלְאַךְ יְהוָה, mal’akh Yahweh) appears (Genesis 16:7–13; 21:17, 18; 22:11–18; 31:11–13; 32:22-32; 48:15,16; Exodus 3:2–6; 13:21; 14:19; 23:20–23; 32:34; 33:2; Numbers 22:22–35; Judges 2:1–4; 5:23; 6:11–24; 13:3–23; 2 Samuel 24:16,17; 1 Kings 19:5–7; 2 Kings 1:3, 15; 19:35; 1 Chronicles 21:15–30; Psalms 34:7; 35:5,6; Isaiah 37:36; 63:9; Daniel 3:24,25; 6:22; Hosea 12:3-5; Zechariah 1:11–13; 3:1–6; 12:8; Malachi 3:1).
These passages are striking because the Messenger speaks as God, receives worship, and is identified with Yahweh—yet remains distinct from Him. In this figure, the transcendent God becomes immanent, offering a theological framework for a divine-yet-distinct person. He provides an Old Testament category for understanding how God could be fully present in human form—a conceptual bridge to the idea of a God-human.
It is unfortunate that our English Bibles typically translate the Hebrew phrase מַלְאַךְ יְהוָה (mal’akh Yahweh) as “the Angel of the LORD”. First, the all-caps “LORD” masks the divine name Yahweh, as discussed in detail in Yahweh Unveiled: Origin & Revelation. Second, the word “angel” evokes images of winged beings—an idea foreign to the biblical text.
How did this occur? The Greek word for “messenger” is angelos, and it was transposed directly into English as “angel”. Through Greco-Roman art and iconography, the term took on a life of its own, becoming associated with winged, human-like beings. However, in the Bible, angels (messengers) are never described as having wings. The only winged beings mentioned are cherubim and seraphim—hybrid, non-human creatures quite unlike the popular image of angels. These beings are associated with worship and may well be metaphoric in meaning; that is, they represent all of creation worshipping Yahweh.
In short, the Messenger of Yahweh is not a winged celestial being, but the immanent manifestation of the transcendent God—a prefiguring of Jesus Himself.
Of the twenty-five appearances, the Messenger of Yahweh’s encounter in Exodus 3 is arguably the most significant. It is here, in the burning bush encounter, that Yahweh reveals the origin of His name to Moses: Ehyeh asher Ehyeh—“I Am who I Am” (Exodus 3:14).
God then transforms this verbal phrase, Ehyeh (“I Am…”), which only He can utter, into a noun, the name Yahweh, meaning “He is…”—a name we can use.
This shift from verb to noun is rich with theological beauty, as explored in Yahweh Unveiled: Origin & Revelation, but the key point here is this: it is from the mouth of the Messenger of Yahweh that this profound revelation is spoken. And it is this very “I Am” that Jesus invokes repeatedly in the Gospels, as we’ll outline below.
So, why didn’t Jesus claim to be the Messenger of Yahweh?
During Second Temple Judaism (in the centuries before Jesus), there was a renewed fascination with angelic beings. Elaborate theories emerged about the celestial host, complete with detailed hierarchies. One such example is the Book of Enoch—a work filled with vivid, supernatural imagery and elaborate angelic hierarchies, functioning in its time with the kind of imaginative pull that fantasy literature holds today.
In this context, Jesus appears to have deliberately avoided any association with the angelic class, likely to prevent confusion. The writer of Hebrews goes to great lengths to distinguish Jesus from the created host, making the theological point that He is not an angel—nor even the highest angel—but categorically greater (see Hebrews 1).
Instead, Jesus chose to identify with another mysterious Old Testament figure: the Son of Man.
The Son of Man
In the Gospels, Jesus calls Himself the Son of Man around 81 times: 30 times in Matthew, 14 in Mark, 25 in Luke and 12 in John. This was Jesus’ preferred self-designation.
This was no random or evasive choice. While some suggest Jesus used it to deflect attention, the title is anything but limp. Yes, on the surface, son of man simply refers to a “human”—an Aramaic equivalent of the Hebrew adam. But in the Jewish prophetic tradition, thanks to Daniel 7, this seemingly ordinary phrase takes on extraordinary significance.
In the seventh chapter of the Book of Daniel, Daniel sees a vision where four beasts rise from the sea—symbolising chaotic, corrupt empires, led by rulers who have made themselves gods (Daniel 7:2-6). The fourth is a super beast, “dreadful and terrible … uttering great boasts” (Daniel 7:7,8).
Then thrones appear—plural—and the “Ancient of Days” (Daniel 7:9), a stunningly beautiful title for Yahweh, takes His seat. Fire flows like a river from His throne, and the divine courtroom is convened. Judgement falls. The super beast is destroyed and the other beasts condemned (Daniel 7:10-12).
But then, something astonishing happens.
Daniel sees “one like a son of man”—a human—riding on the clouds of heaven (Daniel 7:13). This is shocking. In the Hebrew Scriptures, only Yahweh rides the clouds. And now, a human is doing so?
Not only that, but this human is presented before the Ancient of Days and given dominion, glory and the kingdom. All peoples and nations worship him, and his rule is eternal (Daniel 7:14). And those plural thrones? The implication is clear: there are two thrones, and the second is reserved for this human cloud rider.
Hold on—wasn’t it Yahweh who judged the beasts? Yet here, the Son of Man receives the glory for it.
Daniel isn’t just confused—he’s deeply disturbed.
I, Daniel, was grieved in my spirit and the visions of my head troubled me.”
(Daniel 7:15)
Why? This vision shattered all his categories. His friends had been thrown into a fiery furnace, and he himself into a den of lions—for refusing to bow to human kings. And now he sees a human exalted to divine status?
He begs for an interpretation, but the answer doesn’t ease his shock. This human is referred to as the “Most High” (Daniel 7:18)—a title reserved for Yahweh—and His kingdom is shared with all humans (Daniel 7:27). What?
This vision was—and is—astounding. A Divine-Human figure. A God-King who rules not as a tyrant, but in communion with His people.
It left Daniel sick and speechless.
As for me, Daniel, my thoughts greatly troubled me, and my face became pale, but I kept the matter to myself.”
(Daniel 7:28)
And that’s it. That’s all we hear of it.
For centuries, Jewish readers felt the same discomfort Daniel experienced—even though the vision offered a theological category for how God could be fully present in human form, a conceptual bridge to the idea of a God-human.
Then Jesus steps into history and says, in essence, “That Son of Man? That cloud-rider? That’s Me.”
This wasn’t lost on His Jewish audience. They knew the deal with Daniel Chapter 7. They knew exactly what Jesus was claiming.
Just Who Did Jesus Think He Was?
Jesus was never confused about his identity. Not for a moment.
He repeatedly invoked Exodus 3:14—not just through the seven metaphorical “I am” statements, but also through His many absolute declarations of “I am.” And He deliberately chose “Son of Man”, this prophetically charged title, as His primary self-description.
In doing so, Jesus used “I am” in the way only God can and identified Himself as the throne-sharing cloud rider of Daniel 7. These weren’t vague or evasive hints—they were bold, categorical God-claims, a fact utterly lost on those who say Jesus never claimed to be divine.
In Mark 14, when the high priest asked, “Are you the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed One?” (v. 61), he likely expected evasion or denial—especially with witnesses already lined up.
But Jesus gave a direct and devastating reply, invoking not one, but both Exodus 3:14 and Daniel 7:13:
I am; and you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of power, and coming with the clouds of heaven.”
(Mark 14:62, italics added)
Cloaked in honorific language, the high priest had effectively asked, “Are you claiming to be God?”
And Jesus answered: “Ehyeh”—[Greek: egō eimi; Hebrew: אֶהְיֶה]—the divine Name itself. The name only God can utter.
Then, for good measure, He effectively added, “And I’m the cloud rider, too.” Yes, Jesus invoked both Messianic-loaded claims.
Tearing his clothes, the high priest said, ‘Why do we still need witnesses? You have heard the blasphemy!’”
(Mark 14:63,64)
To the Jewish court, there was no ambiguity.
Jesus left them no room for doubt.
In Him
The Christian faith boldly proclaims that Yahweh is both transcendent and immanent—exalted far above us, yet startlingly close. He is utterly beyond comprehension, yet deeply personal, accessible and knowable. Of Jesus, Paul declared:
In Him all the fullness of the Godhead dwells bodily.”
(Colossians 2:9)
The Bible expresses Yahweh’s transcendence with the word holy—a term that means both utterly distinct and inherently good. God is the “uncaused cause,” the Source behind all things. His holiness speaks not only to his otherness, but also to his pure goodness. (We often think of holiness in moral terms—do this, don’t do that—but morality is the byproduct of goodness, just as heat radiates from the sun.)
But the wonder of the Gospel is this: the transcendent God is not distant. He is also immanent—present, near, and active within creation. The Bible’s word for Yahweh’s immanence is love. He loves His children and desires to be known. In fact, He wants to be found by them.
When my children were young, they loved playing hide and seek. At the time, it helped that we moved so often—new hiding spots were always available.
Their joy was in hiding well enough that I couldn’t find them. My joy, by contrast, was in being found. Nothing beat the look of sheer delight on their faces when they discovered me.
Sometimes, though, they needed help. I’d have to let a foot dangle from behind the curtain—just enough for them to enjoy the thrill of finding me.
In the same way, Yahweh lets a leg hang out from behind the curtain, so to speak. He wants to be found, and He reveals Himself in countless ways. None are more loving or intentional than the glimpses He gives us of Jesus—prefigured in the personifications of Wisdom, Glory, the Name and the Word, and in the two mysterious figures who unveil the pre-incarnate Christ.
FURTHER READING
God’s Character
Revealing God’s nature was central to the Message of Jesus. He restored humanity to God’s loving fatherhood, restoring our identity as children of God and our destiny as custodians of all creation.
Personal Identity
Restoring humanity to the Father, the Message of Jesus heals our broken identity, restoring us as children of God. Loved by the Father, we are both secure and significant.
God’s Purpose
Restored to the Father as His children, the Message of Jesus restores humanity’s destiny as custodians of creation. We’re commissioned to partner with Jesus in His restoration plan for the earth.