By Lewis Loflin
Many Protestant Christians hold the Bible as the "inerrant word of God," a complete guide to knowing the divine. As a Deist, I question this claim—not to dismiss faith, but to explore how a text riddled with contradictions, written decades after Jesus’ life, and shaped by centuries of debate, can be seen as flawless. If it’s truly inerrant, why did it take a Roman emperor’s force in the 4th century to settle its contents? Here, I examine the Bible’s history and key doctrines like original sin and the Trinity, seeking what Jesus might have intended versus what Christianity became.
From www.catholic.com:
The New Testament books were written decades after Jesus’ ascension, and it took centuries for Christians to agree on their canon. No originals exist—our earliest copies are centuries later. The Catholic Church, guided by the Holy Spirit, finalized the 27-book New Testament at the Council of Rome in 382 under Pope Damasus I, ratified at Hippo (393) and Carthage (397, 419). Protestants accept this same canon, relying on that early Church authority.
This timeline raises questions: if the Bible is divinely perfect, why the delay and debate? The process suggests human hands, not just divine will, shaped it.
From the Encarta Multimedia Encyclopedia on original sin:
In Christian theology, original sin is humanity’s universal sinfulness, traced to Adam’s first sin. Some see it implied in Paul, John, and Jesus’ teachings. Late Jewish writings linked it to Satan’s fall and Adam’s disobedience. Augustine, building on Tertullian’s 2nd-century term, argued sin passes through procreation. Medieval and Reformation thinkers like Luther and Calvin embraced it, though liberal Protestants later rejected it.
Search the King James Bible— "original sin" isn’t there. Ezekiel 18:20 says, “The soul who sins shall die… the son shall not bear the guilt of the father.” This clashes with Augustine’s idea. As a Deist, I find the concept illogical—why punish all for one man’s act? It seems more a theological construct than a biblical truth.
Robert A. Heinlein quipped, “Anyone who can worship a trinity and insist his religion is monotheism can believe anything.” I share this skepticism. Monotheism—belief in one God—defines Deists, Unitarians, Jews, and early Christians like the Arians, not modern Trinitarian Christians. The word "Trinity" is absent from scripture, and its Nicene formulation (Nicaea and the Trinity) feels more like pagan philosophy than Jesus’ teachings.
Early Christianity wasn’t singular but diverse:
Augustine’s influence, from The Confessions, looms large, shaping Calvin and Protestantism. Yet much of this—Trinity, original sin—reflects Church Fathers’ views, not universal early belief.
I draw from:
Why does the Bible skip Israel’s history from 500 BCE to the 1st century? Persian, Greek, and Babylonian influences—evident in Ezekiel and Daniel—are downplayed. The NAB nods to this, but NIV and KJV ignore it. Protestant reformers like Luther cut books like Tobit and Maccabees, obscuring this context. See Zoroastrianism and the Bible and Babylon, Persia, and Judaism.
“Faith alone” isn’t biblical—James 2:24 says, “A person is justified by works… not faith alone.” Jesus echoes this (Matthew 19:17). Paul hints at faith (Romans), but contradicts himself (Romans 2:13). See Salvation.
Jesus didn’t found Christianity—Paul did, with John’s help. Paul, a Roman citizen who never met Jesus, shaped it via visions (Acts 9:4). John’s Gospel, written circa 90-100 CE by an educated non-apostle (Chadwick), emphasizes Jesus’ divinity—unique to it (John 14:6). The Synoptics (Matthew, Mark, Luke) and James reflect Jesus’ Jewish teachings, not Paul’s savior-god narrative.
John’s anti-Semitism—blaming Jews, not Romans, for the crucifixion—contrasts with the Synoptics. The NAB notes John’s “developed theology” and editorial layers, questioning its authorship. Revelation, by John of Patmos, rehashes Zoroastrian themes, likely a 1st-century Roman critique, not prophecy.
Jesus, a Pharisee Jew, opposed Roman oppression and Temple elites, not Judaism itself. His followers, including armed disciples (Luke 22:50), were rebels. John’s insertion—possibly at Nicaea—recast him as a Roman-friendly figure, demonizing Jews to unify Constantine’s empire. His ethical focus (Matthew 19:18) required no divinity, just moral living.
Jesus preached a reformed Judaism, confronting Roman and Temple power, and died for it. Paul, post-conversion, clashed with James, crafting a Gentile-friendly faith with pagan elements—virgin birth, risen savior. Constantine’s Nicaea (325 CE) standardized this, erasing dissent (John Calvin later echoed this control). Anti-Semitism, rooted in John, fueled centuries of violence (Christian Anti-Semitism).
Jesus’ message of justice was buried under power plays—reason, not revelation, reveals this.
Thanks to Grok, an AI by xAI, for formatting aid. This reflects my Deist lens (My Deist Journey). —Lewis Loflin
