By Lewis Loflin
As of 11:30 PM EDT, March 31, 2025, I’m revisiting Paul’s role in early Christianity. The Church presents a crafted image—was he a Roman agent or a Hellenist with his own agenda? My Deist perspective, rooted in reason, seeks to uncover the reality beneath the narrative.
In Acts 8:1-3, Paul—then Saul—emerges as an enforcer, targeting Christians under Temple authority. Josephus notes in *Antiquities* (20.251) that these priests were Roman appointees, suggesting Paul’s actions served imperial interests. His Roman citizenship (Acts 22:28), uncommon among Jews, raises questions about his ties. Further evidence appears in Acts 23:23-24, where a Roman commander deploys a cohort—470 soldiers, including 200 infantry, 70 horsemen, and 200 spearmen—to escort Paul from Jerusalem to Caesarea, ensuring his safety. This significant force underscores his status as a prominent Roman citizen, far beyond a typical escort.
The Empire faced a challenge with its Jewish population—millions, often resistant, as seen in the 66-70 CE revolt. Paul’s message of a Christ free from Jewish law (Galatians 3:11) could have aimed to draw some away, undermining Jewish solidarity. Hyam Maccoby, in The Mythmaker, argues Paul was no Pharisee but a Hellenist, shaped by Greek thought. Acts 26:5 labels him a Pharisee, yet his writings emphasize faith over the detailed legal traditions of Judaism (Romans 3:28). A connection to the Sadducees—Roman-backed Temple leaders—seems plausible, pointing to a role more aligned with political strategy than spiritual mission.
Consider the God-Fearers—Gentiles who attended synagogues without fully converting. They adhered to the Noachide Laws, a set of seven principles like monotheism and basic morality, avoiding the demands of circumcision or dietary rules. For them, Judaism offered meaning without requiring total commitment. Paul’s teaching—salvation through faith alone (Galatians 3:28)—would appeal directly to this group, offering a path that bypassed Jewish law entirely.
In the diaspora, where Jewish communities were widespread but varied in adherence, God-Fearers formed a ready audience. Paul faced rejection from synagogues (Acts 17:5), yet his message likely resonated with these Gentiles already on the fringes of Judaism, shifting their allegiance and diluting Jewish influence.
The Church reshaped Paul’s legacy, integrating Old Testament elements (Romans 5:12, sin’s origin) to lend Jewish credibility, though not its ethical framework. Marcion, by contrast, saw Paul differently—his canon of ten letters excluded the Old Testament, focusing solely on Christ, detached from Jewish roots. This suggests Paul’s original intent may have been altered. After the Temple’s fall in 70 CE, his influence—intentional or not—aligned with Roman interests, fragmenting Jewish cohesion.
This pattern echoes modern abstractions—progressives promise “equity” with little substance, much like Paul’s “hope” (Romans 5:5) became a deferred reward. It’s a political maneuver, not a spiritual one, benefiting both Rome and the Church.
I favor Arian monotheism—a single, clear God, free of Trinitarian complexity. Pelagian free will holds that individuals shape their lives, not await divine payout. Science supports purpose in life, not random chance. Paul, in my view, served as Rome’s instrument, refined by the Church to maintain order rather than inspire truth.
The Bob Jones University pages at https://www.bju.edu/ lean heavily on Paul, sidelining Jesus—a telling choice that persists.
Section updated, added 3/30/2025
