What if Christians are Actually Worshiping a Conman?

How fear masqueraded as God and got away with it

I grew up hearing a line that every Christian seems to have memorized: “The greatest lie Satan ever told was that he doesn’t exist.”

This is one of those phrases church people love because it feels so clever and mysterious, like they know something the rest of the world doesn’t.

But the older I got, the more I realized something wasn’t adding up. The biggest lie was not that Satan hid himself. It was that he disguised himself as God.

And I don’t mean that metaphorically. I mean it historically, psychologically, and spiritually.

When I started deconstructing a few years ago, this idea kept tugging at me. Why did the God of the Old Testament behave like every abusive authority figure I had ever escaped from? Why did the God I met in prayer feel like love, peace, and expansion, but the God I grew up fearing felt like a dictator? Why did the version of God taught in most churches look more like a jealous king demanding tribute than the infinite Source of creation?

It made no sense. Not until I started studying the history behind it all.

Here’s the thing about deception… a conman would never introduce himself as a conman. He shows up wearing a suit and a friendly smile. He says, “Trust me with your money,” and then he drains your account dry. You never suspect him because he blends in with the people who seem trustworthy.

And if you look at the evolution of religion, you see the exact same pattern. Power doesn’t always show up as evil. It often shows up claiming to protect you. It tells you to fear the right things, obey the right rules, submit to the right authority. It tells you you’re sinful, broken, unworthy, powerless, and that your only hope is devotion to the very system that made you feel small in the first place.

That is how control works. It’s how it has always worked.

When Christianity became an institution under Rome, the image of God shifted dramatically. Suddenly God needed sacrifice. Suddenly God required obedience. Suddenly God demanded worship or punishment. Suddenly God was less like a loving creator and more like an emperor with cosmic authority.

But that is not who God is. That is who empire is.

And as someone who spent most of her life terrified of hell, terrified of disappointing God, terrified my thoughts could send me into eternal torment, I understand how effective this lie has been. Fear was my first religion. Shame was my second. I obeyed long before I ever learned how to love.