Stop Quoting Ben Franklin: Why the Bible is Pure Bronze Age Fan-Fiction

I’m going to level with you. If I had a dollar every time a well-meaning Christian quoted something with the confidence of Moses coming down the mountain, only to find out it was actually from Aesop, I could fund my own atheist mega-church—complete with free therapy sessions and a coffee bar called ‘Nothing Sacred.’

Welcome back to the podcast blog. I’m an ex-christian and an unapologetic atheist, and today, we’re doing a deep dive into the inherited myths and pure theological fan-fiction that keeps the whole God-industry afloat. This isn't about mocking people's beliefs (okay, maybe a little); it's about holding a mirror up to the historical, political, and textual mess that is the Bible, and challenging the convenient lies that shape our culture, our laws, and our holiday calendars.

If you’re an ex-christian, a questioning believer, or just someone who prefers facts over fear-mongering, congrat. You're in the right place.

Part I: When God Gets a Ghostwriter

Let’s start with the source material itself. If you read the Bible like a history text—which is what it purports to be—you quickly realize it’s less a unified divine revelation and more a poorly edited anthology of violence, sex regulations, and political agendas.

The Old Testament reads like a Bronze Age horror novel where God needs to constantly commit mass genocide to feel better about his creation. The New Testament has more internal contradictions than a politician during election season. Add in centuries of political editing—choosing which scrolls make the cut, which translations get approved—and you’ve got a theological mess that would make even the guy who supposedly wrote the Sermon on the Mount say, "Yeah… I didn’t write that."

The Theological Bar Fight

Contrary to Sunday School propaganda, early Christianity was not a cozy theological potluck where everyone agreed Jesus was super nice. It was a bar fight. Gnostics, Marcionites, Arians—they all had radically different ideas about Jesus’s divinity, the nature of sin, and what salvation even meant. Should Jesus be human? Should he be pure spirit? Is the Old Testament God evil? These were literal life-or-death arguments.

The ‘orthodox’ version of Christianity—the one you know today—only won because it crushed the competition, sometimes literally. This wasn’t divine truth; it was theological Survivor. The people who wrote the history books were the ones who managed to burn the other camps' libraries.

Strategic Marketing: How Paganism Got Bedazzled

Ever wonder why we celebrate Jesus's birthday on December 25th? Hint: The Bible doesn’t mention his birthday. At all.

We landed on that date because Rome already had a massive party scheduled. Saturnalia. Sol Invictus (The Unconquered Sun). Big bash, lots of wine, sun gods everywhere. Early Christians, savvy marketers that they were, were essentially like, "Let’s crash that party and give the Roman hangover a new face."

Turns out, nothing says ‘Son of God’ like stealing the spotlight from a sun god already being worshipped at the winter solstice.

This marketing strategy explains why the Church absorbed paganism like a theological sponge. Incense? Ritual candles? Angels with wings? Those are all adopted and rebranded pagan aesthetics. Early Christians didn’t reject paganism; they baptized it, bedazzled it, and called it original. Your spiritual experience is essentially paganism, but make it holy.

The Myth of Moral Invention

Let’s talk morality. You ever hear that Western ethics were built entirely on Christianity? Yeah, that’s like crediting TikTok for inventing dance.

Before Christianity was a glimmer in Paul’s eye, we had Greek philosophers—Socrates, Plato, Aristotle—talking about virtue, reason, natural law, and generally advocating for not stoning your neighbor. Christian moral teachings piggybacked heavily on earlier Hellenistic philosophies, then proceeded to stall out for about a thousand years during the Dark Ages.

If anything, it took secular thinkers of the Enlightenment to drag us kicking and screaming toward ideas like equality, democracy, and hey—maybe don’t burn people at the stake for disagreeing with the Pope.

Part II: Stop Quoting the Apostles of Self-Help

Now, let’s move from grand historical myths to the daily drivel. You ever hear a Christian quote something with the confidence of a televangelist, only to find out it’s pure Bible fan-fiction? Welcome to the world of "things grandma said that sound super holy."

1. “God Helps Those Who Help Themselves.”

This absolute gem isn’t from Jesus—it’s from Aesop. And Ben Franklin. That’s right, your favorite self-reliance Bible verse is actually from a Greek storyteller and a kite enthusiast.

The Bible’s actual message is usually closer to, ‘God helps the helpless and rewards the meek.’ But, apparently, nothing says divine grace like bootstrap theology! Quoting this in church just proves you prefer founding fathers over faith fathers.

2. “Money is the Root of All Evil.”

Almost right… but not quite. The Bible specifically says, “The love of money is the root of all kinds of evil,” (1 Timothy 6:10).

Misquoting this makes it sound like your direct deposit is evil incarnate. The actual warning is about greed and idolatry, not the currency itself. 

3. “God Will Never Give You More Than You Can Handle.”

This one truly grinds my ex-christian gears. It's not only wrong—it’s actively harmful.

1 Corinthians 10:13, the closest thing they have to a source, talks about temptation, not trauma. People absolutely do get more than they can handle. This is called life. That is why therapy, medication, and support groups exist. Telling someone who is breaking under the weight of illness, grief, or addiction, ‘God thinks you’re strong enough’ is not compassion—it’s spiritual gaslighting. Try empathy instead.

4. “Cleanliness is Next to Godliness.”

Sorry, neat freaks—Jesus wasn’t handing out Lysol wipes at the Sermon on the Mount. This came from John Wesley (18th Century Methodism), not Jehovah.

Ironically, Jesus literally criticized the Pharisees for obsessing over external purity while ignoring the internal ethical mess. But sure, keep scrubbing your baseboards like it’s the path to salvation. Wesley would be proud, Jesus would be confused.

5. “Hate the Sin, Love the Sinner.”

This Hallmark theology is courtesy of St. Augustine and Gandhi—not Jesus.

It’s the most common phrase used to mask bigotry with a side of saccharine. "I love you, but I hate everything you are" doesn’t really scream radical compassion, does it? It’s used primarily as a loophole to maintain judgment without having to feel guilty about it.

Part III: The Ultimate Spiritual PR Stunt

Finally, let’s tackle the phrase that launched a thousand awkward youth group t-shirts: “It’s not a religion, it’s a relationship.”

If I had a dollar every time I heard that one, I could definitely buy the whole block. It’s a spiritual PR stunt posing as theology.

On the surface, this phrase attempts to separate the warm, fuzzy Jesus feelings from the cold, dead religion stuff—the boring rituals, dusty old doctrines, and anything that doesn’t involve acoustic guitars and fog machines. It’s marketed like a soul-level rom-com: just you and Jesus, sipping spiritual smoothies and ignoring 2,000 years of church history.

Here is what that phrase is actually code for: "I care more about my feelings than theology."

When your religion is just a personal vibe check with Jesus, guess what gets tossed aside? Structure. Consistency. Accountability. You can’t critique a personal relationship when it’s all ‘personal.’ Which, let’s be honest, is kinda the point.

It’s evangelical branding: "We’re not boring like those Catholics or those stuffy Orthodox folks. We’re authentic, raw, relevant!" But if you still have a Bible, doctrines, clergy, communal rituals, and an ethics code... you’re still a religion. You’ve just swapped robes for ripped skinny jeans and a slightly more convenient guilt system.

Christianity is undeniably a religion. Saying otherwise is like insisting chess isn’t a game—it’s a lifestyle. Cute. Still wrong.

Conclusion: Check Your Sources

So, what’s the harm? I mean, they sound nice. Sure—but parroting made-up theology reinforces lazy thinking, bad doctrine, and sometimes very real harm (especially when you start telling traumatized people they "can handle it").

If you’re building your life on phrases Jesus never said, or a history that was politically manufactured, maybe it’s time to check your sources.

If you’re genuinely seeking truth—whether you’re a believer, a doubter, or a full-blown atheist like me—do yourself a favor: read the actual book, read the actual history, and stop quoting Ben Franklin like he was one of the apostles.

We’ve only just started shaking the pulpit. Stay critical. Stay skeptical. And keep thinking. 

Sincerely,

Kim McPhail

Host of Secular Strike Back