A Decade of Deconstruction: I Don’t Believe in the Devil
In my early life, I don’t recall ever having a strong fear of Satan or the Devil. This might have been because there were enough real evil characters in my story so that I didn’t have time to worry about something that might or might not exist in the invisible world. I dealt with real issues like poverty, physical limitations, and toxic Christianity. My upbringing taught me not to challenge authority, so I stayed under the radar, enjoyed my adventurous spirit, and said the right things when I was forced to speak up.
I watched terrifying movies like The Exorcist, and I experienced Satanic Panic days, which were popular during my childhood. I learned to be afraid of nearly everything, fitting my shy and reluctant nature.
The ideas that my leaders’ religious figures repeated to me within a conservative, evangelical framework appeared very certain and deliberately frightening. At some point, I also read Jonathan Edwards’ sermon, “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God,” which further reinforced the notions of eternal conscious torment, a furious, retributive God, and a supernatural being intent on my destruction. This is a short excerpt of the sermon:
The God that holds you over the pit of hell, much as one holds a spider, or some loathsome insect over the fire, abhors you, and is dreadfully provoked: his wrath towards you burns like fire; he looks upon you as worthy of nothing else, but to be cast into the fire; he is of purer eyes than to bear to have you in his sight; you are ten thousand times more abominable in his eyes, than the most hateful venomous serpent is in ours. (From the Sermon: Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God)
The Jewish Narrative
My ideas about a devil or Satan started to fade, oddly enough, when I attended seminary and seriously studied biblical literature. I found the Garden of Eden story in the book of Genesis in the Jewish Scripture confusing. First, the God character supposedly creates a perfect world, placing man and woman, whom He calls very good, and then sets them up for failure. There is also an adversary who confuses and tests them. When the system fails, the man and woman are blamed and cursed.
In the book of Job, which should have been titled “Jobe,” so we pronounce it correctly, we gain the Hebrew understanding of Satan (ha-satan). This character can be described as a heavenly prosecutor, subordinate to God, who tests human loyalty. This figure is not an independent evil force like the Christian Devil. Jewish thought often views Satan as a metaphor for the yetzer hara, the evil inclination within a person.
The Christian Narrative
Over time and through various writers, the Christian narrative developed into viewing Satan or The Devil (Diablos) as a cosmic adversary, a fallen Angel, and the source of all evil who tempts people to do wrong and rules the earthly realm.
Peter takes it to the extreme by portraying the devil as someone who “Prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” This verse has been widely used to encourage members to stay sober-minded and watchful, as its depiction evokes fear and the idea that this being can overpower us. It reminds me of my trip to Colorado this summer, after hearing about all the bear encounters. I know that bear attacks are rare and usually only happen when people act foolishly. Still, the adversarial image is firmly planted in my subconscious by well-meaning people, just like the idea of a Satanic lion figure.
The apostle Paul introduced many ideas to the early Christians, including the concept that the adversary becomes a spiritual enemy and, drawing from Jewish thought, a personal prosecutor (accuser). He also believed that we should stand up and fight this adversary, but also understand that this could be seen as discipline that makes us stronger or better when we are accused and tested.
Christianity also adopted the Jewish idea from Yom Kippur of the scapegoat. In a way, Jesus became the ultimate scapegoat and the central figure of the narrative. As Jesus encouraged early Christians to move away from the sacrificial system, he presented himself as the sacrifice for all time instead of the goat that was released into the wilderness once a year. Even though Christians eventually embraced the idea that Jesus was the scapegoat and thus defeated the Satan forever, the concept of Satan remained as tempting, harmful, and destructive as ever.
In my view, it maintained the fear they found helpful, instilling it in others to keep them loyal. Suppose we are unsure about our eternal destiny and afraid of the prowling lion outside the camp. In that case, we will be more committed to the established belief system and stay closer to home instead of wandering around and exploring other options.
This narrative causes Christians to blame everything that goes wrong on themselves, the devil, or their wandering from the group’s protection. Anything good that happens is credited to God and the belief system they follow, but none of it works without fear.
After a Decade of Deconstruction
My belief in hell had been decreasing probably since I was a child because I couldn’t imagine a loving God torturing people forever. I couldn’t do that to my worst enemy, even though I was somewhat cruel to animals as a child. So, even while I was still involved in evangelical Christianity, I described hell as separation from God, and I avoided talking too much about the devil because I was starting to understand that even Satanists don’t believe in or worship a being called Satan.
Even though I know having a protagonist makes for good stories, I don’t believe we actually face an invisible adversary that wants to be worshipped instead of God. I agree that this makes the story better—it’s an idea that supports the narrative and makes us feel better about what we don’t fully understand. If I set out for a destination and arrive there, it’s not as exciting as when I encounter problems along the way, especially if a villain is involved.
Christians literally say things like, “You may not realize it, but you have an enemy that is real and powerful!” The story of our life becomes more colorful when a supreme being wants US to succeed, and another powerful enemy is trying to stop us. The story may seem more epic, but it robs us of autonomy and places our inherent worth in the hands of cosmic forces beyond our control.
Since I stopped believing in hell and Satanic beings, my life has become more authentic, and I now enjoy the presence of each day more fully, instead of worrying about things beyond my control. I don’t claim privilege because God somehow favors me, and I also don’t worry about the suppositions about the accuser.
I admit my mistakes when I do wrong and give credit when I do things that help me and my neighbors thrive and flourish. I don’t need fear to motivate me to do good. In fact, since leaving religion and its expectations and demands, I feel like a much better person because I can focus on what my conscience tells me to do instead of guessing what the church might want from me or what would happen if I didn’t do what they demanded. I never worry about evil forces or entities overpowering me.
I take the next obvious step without concern for heavenly reward or satanic panic.
Since my deconstruction and a decade of exploration, I haven’t slid down a slippery slope as they promised. I have also continued to progress through a stroke and life’s challenges without even thinking about Satan or visiting a church. I don’t worry about falling from grace or worshiping a supernatural being, because I’m not convinced that they exist, and I don’t have to insert them into my conversations artificially.
I am also morally better, and I don’t need fear to motivate me to make the right choices.
Be where you are, Be who you are, Be at peace!
Karl Forehand
A Decade of Deconstruction: I Don’t Need Religion
Are you genuinely committed to deconstruction and seeking more profound answers?
If that’s the case, this book was created for you. As a former pastor, I made the mistake of deconstructing a bit and then trying to start something new, as I was trained to do. The problem with that approach is that I wasn’t ready to begin something new.
I hadn’t delved deeply enough or asked enough questions. The first stage of deconstruction typically includes assessing our beliefs regarding hell and the afterlife, supporting queer individuals and women in their fight for equality, and achieving a better understanding of racism and privilege.
Our tendency to punish our former organizations sometimes overlooks the challenging process of healing and growth. It is the same trap we fell into in our former associations.
Campfires occupy a special spot in the mosaic of history. They act as communal hubs across different cultures and faiths. The campfire’s circular design fosters equal participation within the collective group. The flames at the center draw our focus and encourage face-to-face interactions as we exchange experiences, wisdom, and insights about the world beyond. It is where legendary myths and tales are born.
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This book is named Campfires in the Desert as it stems from nearly 400 discussions we held with individuals on our podcast, The Desert Sanctuary, and our aspiration to improve.
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Karl Forehand Campfires in the Desert – A Soft Book Release.
Karl Forehand is a former pastor, podcaster, and award-winning author. His books include Out into the Desert, Leaning Forward, Apparent Faith: What Fatherhood Taught Me About the Father’s Heart, The Tea Shop, and Being: A Journey Toward Presence and Authenticity. He is the creator of The Desert Sanctuary podcast and community. He has been married to his wife, Laura, for 35 years and has one dog named Winston. His three children are grown and are beginning to multiply! You can read more about the author here.
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