I am mildly amused by you saying this, but then going on to speak about “Greek word Jesus used”.
The author of the Gospel used the Greek; nearly everybody is convinced that Jesus spoke Aramaic. I think of the historical Jesus as a bit of a distraction, because historically, his death is a tragedy.
I was enthused some time ago after reading The Hidden Gospel by Niel Douglas-Klotz, who spoke about the transition from Aramaic to Greek, and how that was a decisive move away from the depth of Jesus’ teaching (if we assume that the Greek rendering of core teachings was his) that is better accessed through the Semitic language.
As Douglas-Klotz and others remind us, Aramaic, as Jesus probably spoke it, was a semantically fluid and experientially resonant language. Words carried multiple layers of meaning, blending physical, emotional and spiritual realities. This is in contrast to the more abstract, categorical structure of Greek. Key words such as ru ḥa (spirit, breath, wind) and malkuta (kingdom, empowerment, cosmic harmony), for example, evoke living processes rather than static theological entities.
Greek writers could only draw on their own literary sources to try to inspire the cosmic relevance of that teaching, and they did so copiously. When the early followers attempted to preserve these teachings in Greek, they used a language steeped in Platonic and Stoic categories of being, essence, logos and cosmos. These tools were invaluable for achieving philosophical precision, but they tended to turn into solid things what, in Aramaic, might have been expressed through movement, relationships, and dynamic balance. Thus, the inner rhythm of a Semitic mystic became clothed in Hellenistic metaphysics.
Essentially, though, they were using a different tradition to convey a deeper message, just as the Septuagint became the Tanakh of the Greek-speaking Jews. Even if I can’t prove it, I believe that Jesus was reviving the Jewish mystical tradition, which is why the Aramaic is so important. This touches on the intersection of linguistics, mysticism, and cultural translation. My argument has a solid foundation in both theological linguistics and comparative mysticism.
The idea that Jesus was reviving a Jewish mystical tradition is consistent with the fact that second-temple Judaism contained proto-Kabbalistic and apocalyptic elements, such as Merkabah (divine chariot) visions, wisdom literature, and Qumran mysticism involving light and the word. In this view, Jesus wasn’t inventing a new faith but reawakening the experiential knowledge of the divine within creation, an idea that echoes ancient wisdom traditions from cultures around the world.
As you may be aware of, many older cultures speak of a primordial wisdom: the Dao in China, ṛta/dharma in the Vedic tradition, Maat in Egypt and Logos in early Stoicism. This suggests a shared archetypal language of cosmic order and inner alignment. Seeing Jesus as a channel of that re-emergent pattern redefines Christianity as less of a departure from Judaism or a Hellenistic synthesis, and more of a localised expression of perennial wisdom, reinterpreted through the lens of first-century Judea.
Following this line of thinking, the ‘historical Jesus’ becomes less the endpoint of inquiry and more a portal and a historical instance of initiation into ageless consciousness traditions, obscured by the filters of translation and empire.
I think we should approach religious scriptures as mythologies and recognise their importance in a non-technological world where it was difficult to access books and people had to memorise texts or know someone who could. The stories’ deeper meanings were not written down but transmitted through relationships. Stories, chants and parables were performative acts that conveyed memory, ethics, cosmology and communal identity simultaneously. Meaning was elastic and multi-layered, enriched by tone, repetition and context. So the ‘deeper meaning’ wasn’t hidden on a page but emerged from people’s participation in the retelling.
I think anyone who has been a Christian in evangelical or Protestant circles will have found this to be an obstacle when approaching ‘Gnostic’ teachings that dismiss the atonement via the cross in favour of awakening and empowerment to know oneself as an expression of the inner light of consciousness that enlightens all beings. I can see how Vedanta could help you in this respect, by preventing the transformative psychology and mysticism at the heart of Jesus’s message from being obscured.
As I said, the scriptures serve as living metaphors for inner awakening. This is essentially how we should ‘follow’ Jesus on this noble ‘Way’, rather than being confident that he has done it all for us. It is interesting how ‘people of the Way’ suddenly becomes understandable. In a mystical interpretation, the cross ceases to represent an external sacrifice and instead symbolises an inner crucifixion of the ego and the surrender of separateness, resulting in rebirth into unity. The ‘resurrection’ then signifies a new mode of being and awareness, grounded in what we call the ‘inner light of consciousness’.
“Tat tvam asi” (“You are That”). The Christ-self and the Atman become analogues, pointing to the same non-dual recognition that the divine and the self are not-two.
What do you think?
Warm regards