The Real Origin Story? Why Jesus’ Life Isn’t as Unique as You Think

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So, here’s a thought that might make your coffee taste just a little more philosophical this morning: what if the Jesus story we all know so well isn’t actually all that original? Now, before you clutch your pearls or summon a lightning bolt to smite me, hear me out. I’m not saying Jesus didn’t exist or that he wasn’t a decent man with some seriously solid advice. I’m just saying that if you pop open the mythological archive (yes, it’s imaginary, but go with me), you’ll start seeing some very familiar storylines. Like, eerily familiar. Like plot-twist-in-a-soap-opera familiar.

Let’s start with the basics. Virgin birth? Check. Miracles? Check. Twelve followers? Check. Died, came back, and suddenly everyone’s following him on first-century TikTok? Also check. The story of Jesus, as beautiful and influential as it is, has a lot of overlaps with other figures from mythologies way older than Christianity. And I mean way older—like, ancient-Egyptian-scrolls-dusty older.

Take Horus, for example. Egyptian god, eye makeup game strong, born of the goddess Isis. And guess what? She was a virgin. Horus was born on December 25th (sound familiar?), his birth was heralded by a star, and he was visited by wise men. Not making this up. He also had a bit of a scuffle with his evil uncle Set, died (kind of), and was brought back to life. Resurrection? Tick. The whole saviour-of-his-people storyline? Double tick.

Then there’s Mithras, a Persian god whose fan club really blew up in Roman times. Born of a virgin on—you guessed it—December 25th, performed miracles, had twelve companions, and celebrated a meal with bread and wine. It’s like Christianity just did a Ctrl+C, Ctrl+V and updated the aesthetic. Mithras was also known as a mediator between God and humans, which is exactly how Jesus is described in Christian theology. Makes you go, “Hmm,” doesn’t it?

Moving eastward, we meet Krishna from Hindu tradition. He wasn’t born in a barn but in a prison (very metal), and his birth was marked by a miraculous event. His mother, Devaki, had a divine conception, and evil King Kamsa wanted him dead before he even hit his first birthday. So, divine baby, evil tyrant, dramatic escape, and miracles all before naptime. Sound familiar? Oh, and did I mention he also rose to the heavens after death? Classic.

Dionysus, the Greek god of wine and parties, might seem like the odd one out, but wait. Son of Zeus and a mortal woman (semi-divine, tick), died and was resurrected (tick), turned water into wine (very Jesus at Cana), and had a cult of followers who literally consumed him symbolically during rituals. Eucharist anyone? Yes, even the wine god got there first.

Osiris, back in Egypt, was chopped into pieces by his jealous brother Set—bit extreme, but family drama is timeless. His wife, Isis (again, this woman was busy), found the pieces and resurrected him, making him the god of the afterlife. Resurrection: tick. Judging the souls of the dead? Also tick.

Even Attis, from Phrygia, gets in on the action. Born of a virgin, died under a tree (not a cross, but still), and resurrected after three days. His followers even had a spring festival in his honour, which weirdly lines up with Easter. What a coincidence.

Tammuz from Mesopotamian mythology—he’s all about the cycle of death and rebirth. Died, went to the underworld, got brought back. The usual mythological drama.

So why do all these stories sound the same? Was there an ancient storytelling club handing out templates? Or did these themes—virgin births, self-sacrificing heroes, miraculous comebacks—just really resonate with human beings across different times and cultures? Probably the latter. Let’s be honest: the underdog who dies and comes back stronger is a timeless, crowd-pleasing narrative.

Now, I’m not here to strip Jesus of his cultural or spiritual importance. Seriously, the guy has one of the best brand recognitions on Earth. But when people treat the story as if it’s the first and only of its kind, it’s worth remembering that mythology has been remixing themes long before Spotify ever existed.

It’s also fascinating to look at timeframes. Horus was being worshipped in Egypt more than 3,000 years before Jesus. Osiris? Same timeline. Mithras? His cult was already pretty widespread in the Roman Empire by the 1st century BCE. Krishna? He predates Jesus by centuries—texts referring to him date back to at least the 3rd century BCE. Dionysus had temples centuries before Jesus walked the Earth, and Attis and Tammuz were doing their resurrection thing in rituals thousands of years earlier.

But maybe that’s the point. Maybe Jesus’ story wasn’t supposed to be unique in every element, but meaningful in how it pulled these familiar threads together and gave them new weight. Like a remix that just hits differently.

And hey, it’s not like Christianity is the only religion that’s done this. Religions borrow, adapt, remix, and repackage ideas constantly. It’s how they evolve and stay relevant. If the story of a divine child who sacrifices himself for humanity resonates across cultures and centuries, maybe it tells us more about us than it does about any particular god.

Humans seem to love a good comeback story. Whether it’s Rocky Balboa or Horus rising from the metaphorical ashes, we want to believe that death isn’t the end, that sacrifice has meaning, and that light wins over darkness. It’s universal. So if Jesus’ story echoes that of Horus, Mithras, Krishna, or Dionysus, maybe it’s not plagiarism—it’s just mythology doing what it does best.

So next time you hear someone say, “Jesus is the only one who…”—you’ll know to nod politely, sip your drink, and maybe mentally scroll through your inner mythology Rolodex. Because while the message might be divine, the plot? Well, it’s been around the block a few times.

And really, if the divine keeps showing up in the same outfit with a slightly different accent, maybe the universe is just trying to make sure we’re paying attention,