POINT
Everybody Talking ’Bout Heaven Ain’t Goin’ There
By Robert Henry
Do Christian nationalists want to bring back compelled orthodoxy and the resulting persecution?
Well, the question of whether God is one, two or three has caused hundreds of thousands of deaths throughout history. In 16th-century England, one could only discuss religion, especially the Christian religion, at his or her peril. William Tyndale—an English scholar fluent in multiple languages, whose translation work acquired the enmity of such notables as (later) Saint Thomas More—was strangled and then burned at the stake for his religious doctrines and for translating Hebrew and Greek texts into his Bible, which became the basis for what is still my favorite translation, the King James Version. Tyndale may have had more influence on the English language than Shakespeare. Earlier, John Wycliff, who produced the first complete English translation of the Bible, managed to die on his own, but his bones were exhumed and burned about 43 years after his death by religious nationalists.
Today we do not burn at the stake—yet—but there are those who want to go back to public firing squads. And some of that group probably have John Fugelsang (whose last name translates to “Birdsong”) in their sights for his—horror of horrors—best-selling book Separation of Church and Hate. Fugelsang freely admits to being the filial product of lapsed Catholic clergy, a former nun and a former monk: Sister Damien (christened before The Omen became strangely popular) and Brother Boniface. But whatever their breach of youthful vows to the Roman Church, his parents taught their son about the sort of repairing the world that Jesus proclaimed, and the love that Fugelsang’s Christian name John (“the apostle that Jesus loved”) evokes. In the most famous Greek Bible scripture, John 3:16, a lesson Jesus gave privately to the curious Pharisee Nicodemus: “God so loved the world …”
Not kinfolk and neighbors, but the world. Fugelsang likes love; I actually think he loves it.
Separation stakes its territory on a non-literal reading of his Bible, which indeed does not speak with one voice. This idea that the Bible is not “univocal” is not at all controversial with many, probably most Biblical scholars, since the Bible was authored by numerous men and women over thousands of years. And literal reading of the Bible creates problems as early as reading Genesis chapters one and two, as these chapters—assuredly written by different authors, and certainly written for different purposes—clearly disagree on the order of biblical creation. The most lyrical book in the Bible, Psalms, is somewhat unique in that it does not consist of God’s purported words to mankind, but rather man’s purported words to God. Man does not always get it right.
On hot-button issues, Fugelsang sings a decidedly progressive tune. The Jesus he sees is a radical “who hung around lepers, hookers and crooks,” was “anti-wealth and anti-death penalty;” his Jesus is not “even slightly anti-gay,” “never mentioned abortion,” and most radical of all to the “View from Versailles” crowd, he “supported paying taxes.” Fugelsang asserts that his Jesus was a long-haired, community-organizing, authority-questioning, anti-slut shaming, brown-skinned, Palestinian, unarmed, homeless Jew—“but only if you believe what’s actually in the Bible.” Fugelsang seems to wonder why certain self-proclaimed Christians and their fellowships would extol the importance of posting the Ten Commandments on schoolhouse walls, but not allow discussion of our leaders’ admitted violations of those very commandments. Are some things best left unsaid? Unposted?
Fugelsang wonders how Christian nationalists see the Beatitudes, with their non-testosterone call to acknowledge and bless the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, the righteous, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, the falsely persecuted. Why do they not seek to post this short part of the Sermon on the Mount on schoolhouse walls?
Most Christian nationalists do not acknowledge shared faith or values with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, Christian Scientists or Unitarians, and they advocate to Jews that salvation is exclusively available through faith in Jesus Christ. Many would, I suppose, like to either expel these and other religions, or make them second-class citizens. Fugelsang perorates that “Authentic Christianity doesn’t seek dominance, but transformation. Jesus is telling you to go beyond your religion’s rules into a deeper kind of love.”
He might have said it better by paraphrasing St. Paul, a Christian author his book has some issues with: “The letter of the law kills, but the spirit gives life.”
This admittedly light-hearted book will change few minds, but at least for now, you can read it without being burned at the stake, immediately or later. I think I will choose cremation, just to get it over with.
COUNTERPOINT
The Battle for the Bible
By Bob Linn
What happens to a civilization when it abandons the authority upon which it was built?
That question emerges from John Fugelsang’s 2025 book Separation of Church and Hate
Fugelsang’s foundational premise is that the Bible we possess today bears little resemblance to what its original authors wrote. He calls Scripture the world’s longest game of telephone, claiming it consists of translations, revisions, and repeatedly copied stories whose original wording is now beyond recovery.
His argument resembles one advanced by journalist Kurt Eichenwald in a 2014 Newsweek article, which portrayed modern Bibles as unreliable translations of endlessly copied manuscripts. Both arguments overlook extraordinary historical evidence.
THE DEAD SEA SCROLLS
In 1947, ancient manuscripts discovered near the Dead Sea revolutionized biblical scholarship.
Among them were copies of Old Testament writings dating centuries before Christ, approximately a thousand years older than the principal medieval Hebrew manuscripts previously available. The discovery allowed scholars to compare biblical texts separated by nearly a millennium. What did they discover?
Remarkable continuity in the transmission of scripture. The Great Isaiah Scroll demonstrated substantial agreement with the later Masoretic tradition. There were textual variations, some more significant than others. Nevertheless, the manuscripts decisively challenged the caricature of scripture as a collection of stories repeatedly altered beyond recognition. The Masoretic scribes developed elaborate safeguards, including counting words, letters, and verses, to protect the integrity of the biblical text.
The New Testament possesses an equally impressive manuscript tradition. Thousands of Greek manuscripts survive, some dating to the second century. Scholars possess an extensive body of evidence with which to examine textual transmission and reconstruct earlier readings. We do not possess the original biblical autographs. That does not mean we know nothing about what their authors wrote.
Fugelsang’s telephone analogy substitutes a memorable insult for serious engagement with textual scholarship, but his argument concerning scripture is only the beginning.
The deeper issue is authority.
THE SEXUAL REVOLUTION AND MORAL AUTHORITY
Once scripture is dismissed as an unreliable record of divine revelation, man becomes free to determine which biblical teachings deserve acceptance and which may be discarded.
Fugelsang advances a Christianity compatible with contemporary progressive positions on sexuality, abortion, and marriage. But by what authority does he determine which biblical teachings represent authentic Christianity?
Italian philosopher Augusto Del Noce (1910-1989) recognized the relationship between abandoning transcendent authority and transforming Western moral culture. He argued that the sexual revolution represented more than changing private behavior. It was a philosophical revolution redefining human freedom by removing inherited moral restraints.
Del Noce examined Wilhelm Reich, whose writings associated sexual liberation with broader social transformation. The implications were profound. If human fulfillment becomes primarily the satisfaction of desire, what becomes of man created in God’s image?
What becomes of moral obligation? What becomes of the family? What becomes of a civilization that once understood liberty as freedom under moral law?
Marcello Pera, former President of the Italian Senate, likewise warned that abandoning Christianity threatens Western civilization’s moral foundations. The Christian understanding of human dignity places limits upon political power. Human rights do not originate with government. Moral authority does not originate with the state. Even rulers stand under judgment.
THE CONTRADICTION FUGELSANG CANNOT ESCAPE
Perhaps the most revealing feature of Fugelsang’s book is his treatment of Jesus Christ.
After questioning whether we can recover what biblical authors originally wrote, he confidently appeals to selected sayings of Jesus as the foundation of his preferred Christianity.
But if scripture is hopelessly corrupted, why should the passages Fugelsang approves be trustworthy while those he rejects are dismissed? He portrays the Apostle Paul as an adversary of early Christianity, despite Paul’s foundational role in the apostolic witness. Yet Christianity is not merely an ethical philosophy assembled from selected sayings of Jesus. Historic Christianity rests upon the incarnation, miracles, atoning death, and bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ.
Remove these foundations and something fundamentally different emerges.
The question is not merely whether Fugelsang correctly understands scripture. It is whether Western civilization can preserve its moral inheritance while rejecting the transcendent authority that helped establish it. Does man discover moral truth within an order that transcends him? Or does he invent moral truth according to the changing preferences of his age? That is the battle behind the battle for the Bible. Who speaks with final authority: God or man?
This article appears in Fall Flavors.