Son of David.

Just as “Son of Man” was another way of saying Messiah, so was “Son of David.” Messiah means anointed ruler, and David had been anointed by Samuel as God’s chosen king, thus making him a Messiah. David’s descendants, who were also kings, were likewise recognized as Messiahs. And of course the Messiah, God’s ideal anointed ruler, was expected to be a descendant of David. The Pharisees expected him to be a literal descendant, which Jesus is.

So various people, who recognized Jesus to be this Messiah, called him that. But “Son of David” was a politically dangerous term: Calling anyone the son of Israel’s greatest king would imply he was like David—either royalty, or deserving of royalty, or that he’d take the throne. The Herods weren’t willing to give up the throne so easily, and their Roman allies didn’t care to switch subject-kings if they didn’t have to. Calling yourself Son of David could get you in a great deal of trouble. Simply suggesting an alternate king had been born, as the magi had done after Jesus had been born, got every male toddler in Bethlehem murdered. This is why the leaders of Jerusalem were so agitated when Jesus entered the city on Palm Sunday and the crowds were calling him Son of David —all this king-talk might get them in trouble for supporting a rebellion.

The premise for “Son of David” as a Messianic title comes from something God told his prophet Nathan. When David first came up with the idea of building a temple, he bounced the idea off Nathan, who thought it a fine one. But that night, God told Nathan he’d never asked for a house—though he appreciated David’s enthusiasm, and promised him rest from his enemies. Furthermore,

The LORD declares to you

the LORD will make you a house.

When your days are complete,

when you lie at rest with your ancestors,

I’ll raise up your seed after you,

one who’ll come out of your innards.

I’ll set up his kingdom.

He’ll build a house for my name.

I’ll be a father to him.

He’ll be a son to me.

When he goes wrong, I’ll correct him with the scepter of men,

with the whips of men’s sons.

My love won’t turn away from him like I turned it away from Saul,

whom I turned away from your presence.

Your house has been set up.

Your kingdom is forever in my presence.

Your throne will be set up forever.

—The LORD,

To some degree God was speaking of David’s immediate successors—Solomon, Rehoboam, Abijah, Asa, Jehoshaphat, Jehoram, and so forth. That’s implied by his statement, “When he goes wrong, I’ll correct him…” which doesn’t at all apply to Jesus, who never went wrong. In comparison, every single king in the Davidic line went wrong at one time or another, and God let them suffer the consequences by letting Israel’s enemies have at them. But ultimately it’s not about them: “Your throne will be set up forever,” doesn’t describe the Davidic dynasty. That line ended with Zerubbabel, who was governor of Jerusalem under the Persians, and never crowned king. His son didn’t inherit his office; Nehemiah took it over. No one from David’s family—not counting modern-day members of the tribe of Judah who served in the Knesset—has ruled Israel since Zerubbabel. This prophecy was only fulfilled by Zerubbabel’s descendant Jesus.

“When he goes wrong” doesn’t mean this prophecy isn’t about Jesus. If you write a contract, and include a clause just in case, it doesn’t render the contract invalid simply because you never have to use the clause. God never needed to correct his ideal Messiah. But the rest of the prophecy fits Jesus perfectly—better, in fact, than it did the house of David.

So the Pharisees correctly recognized this to be a Messianic prophecy, and expected Messiah to be the Son of David—a literal descendant of David, someone after God’s own heart like David was, with David’s ability and enthusiasm, meant to usher in a new golden age of Israel. Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Hosea even referred to this Messiah as “David” and everyone else called him Son of David.

This expectation was so ingrained in people, Jesus even played with it a little.

Jesus, in the Pharisee synagogue, questioned them. He said, “What do you think about Messiah? Whose son is he?”

They told him, “David’s.”

He said, “So how come David, by the Spirit, called him Master? He said:

‘The LORD told my Master,

“Sit at my right hand

till I put your foes beneath my feet.” ’

So if David called him Master, how could he be his son?”

Nobody could answer his question. Nor did anyone dare, from then on, to question him further.

—

Jesus didn’t throw a monkey wrench into their theology in order to prove them wrong. He only did this to show they hadn’t thought things all the way through. Messiah wasn’t just another king like David. He was a king greater than David. And since—in Pharisee thinking—one who comes first is greater than one who comes afterward, this was hard to understand.

But it entirely makes sense when we recognize Jesus came before David. As John the Baptist put it, “After me comes someone greater than me, for he existed before me,” and “He came from above, and is greater than everything.” John knew exactly why Messiah Jesus is greater than King David: Jesus is God, and became human. David’s so-called eternal dynasty was just a pale reflection of Jesus’s greater truth and eternal Kingdom.

So Jesus is the Son of David. Born to David’s descendant Mary, adopted by David’s descendant Joseph, he’s David’s literal, direct descendant. And not only is Jesus a man after God’s own heart, like David; he is God’s own heart. He’s fulfills David better than David himself did.