I recently came across a brutal review from a devoted Christian on goodreads of a novel called Insane Entities, he called it blasphemous and asked for it to be removed. The novel takes religious concepts and twists them into something… unsettling. It got me thinking—why do people react so strongly when a book dares to reinterpret sacred ideas?
One scene in the book hit me particularly hard: a character with three eyes, one weeping while the other two smile as he knots a corpse like a bag. It’s gruesome, sure, but the hidden symbolism makes it even darker—it reflects the Christian Trinity, with Jesus suffering while the Father and Holy Spirit remain distant. It’s a powerful and eerie take on an old concept.
It seems like books that tackle religious themes in unconventional ways always get the harshest criticism. Do you think that’s because people fear reinterpretation, or is it just resistance to any challenge of belief?
I’ve been out of the church since I turned 18 and bolted out the door on my own, but here’s a very simplified explanation from my own experiences.
Yes, to both.
Anything that makes a religious zealot think is pretty much automatically considered satanic, evil, of the devil, etc. Anything that challenges their sect’s interpretation / dogma is also the devil’s work / temptation.
Anything that isn’t strictly in line with the sect’s teachings is “of the world” and to be avoided. The only things they approve of are things that reinforce their existing interpretations. Basically, an echo chamber.
I wish I was joking or exaggerating, but at least in the religious environment I grew up in, that’s how it was.
Here’s the joke / not-a-joke answer: Jesus was a long haired white guy. That is not a picture of a long-haired white guy.
It’s fascinating how anything that disrupts the echo chamber is labeled as dangerous. It makes you wonder—if a belief system is truly unshakable, why fear questioning it? The idea that truth can’t withstand scrutiny seems contradictory. Maybe that’s why reinterpretation is so threatening—it forces people to confront the possibility that their ‘absolute truths’ might not be so absolute after all.
You have to remember that the scripture is dictated from the top: the Pope to the bishops to the priests to the masses, or the equivalent in other sects/religions. Therefore it’s not so much about belief as it is about control: “trust my words only, disregard anything someone else says to contradict it.” And it’s repeated over and over with every sermon. Heck, the whole start of the Abrahamic religion is someone being told “kill your son, trust me bro it’s the right thing to do.”
That’s an interesting point, and it’s true that religious institutions have often been about maintaining control, shaping belief to fit a centralized narrative. The way scripture is interpreted and enforced can definitely create a system where questioning or alternative viewpoints are discouraged. It’s almost like a constant reinforcement of trust in the authority—be it the Pope, clergy, or anyone in a position of power within the religious structure.
The story of Abraham is a stark example of this kind of unquestioning obedience, and it’s unsettling to think about how such acts are framed as divine tests. It raises a lot of questions about the nature of faith, morality, and the ways we accept or challenge authority in our lives. Sometimes, it’s not about belief itself, but about how and why we’re made to believe.