I Don’t Believe in the Devil — and You Probably Shouldn’t Either
A deeper dive into understanding what I use to believe and where I am today.
I grew up believing the devil was real. Not symbolic. Not metaphorical. Real. A cosmic being actively influencing minds, culture, and the world. A ruler of this earth. An enemy working behind the scenes to deceive, corrupt, and derail faith.
That belief shaped how I interpreted doubt, suffering, culture, and even my own thoughts.
But as I’ve gotten older, more stable, and more willing to examine what I believe rather than inherit it, the devil framework has started to collapse under scrutiny. Not emotionally. Logically.
Here’s why.
The Power Problem
The version of Christianity I was taught claims several things at once:
God is sovereign.
Jesus defeated death.
Jesus has “all authority.”
And yet…
The devil currently rules the world, actively manipulating culture, blinding minds, and thwarting truth.
That’s not one coherent story. It’s two competing sovereignties pretending to be compatible.
If Jesus’ victory is real and present, why does the devil remain so effective?
If the devil truly governs the world, what exactly was defeated?
The result is a strange inversion: Jesus is symbolically powerful but practically absent, while the devil is symbolically “defeated” but practically dominant. That doesn’t strengthen faith. It undermines it.
The Devil as an Explanation Shortcut
The devil functions as an explanation people reach for when reality is uncomfortable.
Why do people hurt each other? The devil.
Why does culture drift? The devil.
Why do I have doubts? The devil.
Why does evil persist? The devil.
This externalizes responsibility and simplifies complexity. Instead of grappling with psychology, power, trauma, incentives, and systems, we blame an invisible antagonist.
That may feel comforting, but it doesn’t actually explain anything.
Human cruelty doesn’t require a supernatural puppet master. History, neuroscience, and social dynamics account for it just fine.
Where the Devil Actually Came From
In the Hebrew Bible, “the satan” is not a rival god or cosmic villain. It’s a role. An accuser. A tester. A function within the story, not an autonomous being running the universe.
The fully formed devil — the ruler of this world, orchestrating evil — develops later, influenced by dualistic frameworks and apocalyptic thinking. It grows as a way to explain why the world remains broken despite claims of divine victory.
That development is understandable. It’s just not necessary.
What Gets Lost When You Remove the Devil
People assume that without the devil, morality collapses.
I’ve found the opposite.
When you remove the devil, responsibility returns to where it belongs: human beings and human systems.
Greed doesn’t come from demons.
Violence doesn’t require possession.
Oppression doesn’t need a dark throne somewhere in the cosmos.
These things emerge from fear, power, trauma, and unchecked incentives.
And when you stop blaming a supernatural enemy, you stop waiting for divine intervention and start owning the work of repair.
What About Jesus Then?
Here’s the irony: removing the devil doesn’t diminish Jesus. It clarifies him.
Jesus doesn’t come to defeat a cartoon villain. He confronts domination, hypocrisy, dehumanization, scapegoating, and violence. He exposes the ways humans harm each other while convincing themselves they’re righteous.
That struggle doesn’t need a horned enemy to be real.
If anything, blaming the devil lets us avoid the harder truth: the enemy is not “out there.” It’s patterns we keep reproducing.
Why I’m Letting This Go
I don’t reject the devil because I’m cynical or rebellious. I reject it because it doesn’t make sense, and I’m no longer willing to outsource my thinking to fear-based explanations.
I don’t need a cosmic villain to explain suffering.
I don’t need a supernatural deceiver to explain doubt.
And I don’t need an inflated enemy to justify why the world is still broken.
Letting go of the devil didn’t weaken my sense of responsibility. It strengthened it.
And if faith can’t survive the removal of one myth, then maybe the myth was doing more work than the faith ever did.