By Lewis Loflin
As a Classical Deist, I approach religion without the hostility of modern internet Deists or the radical skepticism of the French Enlightenment’s extremist Deism. My focus lies in the history and origins of religions—particularly those shaping Western thought and culture: Judaism, Christianity, Hellenism, and Zoroastrianism. This naturally draws me to the Bible, not as a believer, but as a student of its influence.
I’m not a Christian—never have been—so I lack the emotional baggage many ex-Christians carry into their hostility. My rejection of what I call “Paulism” comes from a straightforward reading of the Bible: the Old Testament, as written, undermines the New Testament’s claims. The Jews were right to dismiss Paul, its primary architect. See my analysis in Apostle Paul: Founder of Christianity.
I don’t accept authority based on blind faith—whether from religious institutions, prophets, or holy men claiming visions, dreams, or guidance from invisible spirits. Paul rewrote Judaism through such means, leaning on an unseen Holy Spirit suddenly equal to God. I’m not convinced. Jesus, though, was a real figure—a 1st-century Jew in what’s now Israel (I use BC and AD, not BCE). He wasn’t Zoroaster, Mithra, or Buddha, as some assert, despite Jewish exposure to Greek and Zoroastrian ideas under Persian, Greek, and Roman rule.
Those empires—especially after Alexander the Great conquered Persia—rarely meddled in local faiths but fostered idea exchange through trade and movement. Hellenism, thriving in Alexandria and Asia Minor, challenged Judaism with new concepts, as seen in 1 and 2 Maccabees. Jesus’ apocalyptic sect fused Zoroastrian and post-Exile Jewish ideas with national hopes—a military-religious leader to oust pagan rulers and establish God’s kingdom, per Zechariah 9:10. That figure wasn’t meant to die on a cross.
Paul’s Christ—born of visions—bears little resemblance to that Jesus. The Trinity smacks of Gnostic-Platonist roots, not Jewish tradition. Paul, steeped in Hellenistic culture (see Hellenism), opposed Jewish norms much like Secular Humanism resists traditional American values today. His risen man-god breaches the Ten Commandments’ first three rules. For a historical Jesus, I lean on the Gospel of Mark and parts of Acts—a human, perhaps God-inspired, who saw himself as the Jewish Messiah. He misjudged, crossed the Romans, and was crucified for sedition.
The Temple, run by Roman-appointed Sadducees—cultural liberals akin to today’s progressive Judaism or Protestantism—clashed with fundamentalist Pharisees, like modern Evangelicals. Matthew, Mark, and Luke paint Jesus as a Pharisee. Paul, no Pharisee but a Gnostic-leaning Roman citizen, worked as the Sadducees’ enforcer. His Jesus, and John’s, reflects Hellenistic religious syncretism. By the 2nd century, Christianity split from Judaism, claiming the Hebrew God’s authority while ditching the God Himself.
My work explores this interplay of Hellenism, Zoroastrianism, Judaism, and Christianity—presenting views to spark thought, not push beliefs. Faith is personal; everyone should chart their own path. But I draw a line at historical revisionism, propaganda, or political agendas twisting religion for power or suppressing others. I oppose both religious fundamentalism and Secular Humanist dogma on those grounds.
We have a right to freedom *of* religion—not *from* it, nor from being offended. “Separation of church and state” isn’t in the Constitution; the state must stay neutral, not favor secular dogma over faith. Banning forced prayer in schools makes sense—kids are captive—but barring it at sports events or public meetings, where one can opt out, is overreach. Balance, not extremes, is the goal.
Ben Franklin, a tolerant abolitionist, captured Classical Deism’s essence:
Here is my creed. I believe in One God, the Creator of the Universe. That he governs it by his Providence. That he ought to be worshipped. That the most acceptable Service we can render Him is doing good to his other children. That the soul of man is immortal and will be treated with justice in another life respecting its conduct in this. These I take to be the fundamental principles of all sound religion.
Classical Deism seeks to reform and modernize belief systems—not erase or replace them. So why do modern internet Deists reject Franklin and Jefferson’s views, yet claim their authority for their own inventions? It’s akin to Christians invoking the Hebrew God while peddling Paul’s Gnostic twist—hostile to Deism as Paul was to Judaism.
Hellenism, the spread of Greek culture after Alexander the Great (336–323 BCE), blended Greek philosophy with local traditions, fostering religious syncretism and rational thought. Without it, Christianity and Gnosticism wouldn’t have emerged as known. Both drew from Hellenistic ideas, like Platonism, evolving in parallel with shared roots but clashing visions.
Christianity used Hellenistic concepts, such as the Logos and allegorical interpretation, to spread its message of salvation through faith in a good God, embracing creation. Gnosticism, rooted in Hellenistic dualism, saw the material world as flawed, created by a demiurge, and sought liberation through secret knowledge (gnosis), as explored in Elaine Pagels’ work. While both valued spiritual salvation, they diverged: Christianity rejected Gnosticism’s view of an evil world and Docetism, affirming one God and communal faith. Born in Hellenism’s crucible, their ties to Jewish origins and conflicts shaped early religious thought. Christianity engaged the Greco-Roman world, while Gnosticism challenged it, defining their dynamic tension.
The following revised and update 4/10/2025.
I cover Judaism, Christianity, Hellenism, Zoroastrianism, and their offshoots—valuable yet flawed traditions. Each offers insights and pitfalls; the choice is yours. Below are key resources: