These sample quotes of Chat summarize my blog points/arguments in the section below. See the full comments from Chat at bottom of section just below.
Quibble: While I appreciate Chat’s responses, I am not writing for academics or scholars. And I do not affirm all Chat’s conclusions/comments.
For example: Chat urges me to take a more polite and conciliatory approach in how I present my points or arguments here. I appreciate that as it appears to be an “intelligent” suggestion coming from Chat. Not sure how this “technology” does such human-like things.
But that type of approach misses my intended project here, to bring out the true nature of a neglected thing (i.e. the discovery of Historical Jesus that ultimate reality/deity was “unconditional love”). And hence, my use, sometimes, of strong terms/language (i.e. “primitive”), to make clear the contrast with opposing things like Paul’s Christ myth that re-affirmed “tribalism, domination, ultimate violence/destruction” in deity and thereby funtioned to validate some of the worst of human behavior over the past two millennia, culminating in the horrific outcomes of the mass-death movements of the 20th Century, crusades significantly validated by apocalyptic millennial ideas (i.e. salvation through destruction).
My approach leans on expression that sharpens the real nature of such differences in order to make clear the true nature of these things, and the actual contrasts between them, and their influence on human minds, emotions, motivations, and resulting behaviors.
Chat says that the use of such terms can potentially offend some readers. Well, that is sometimes the unavoidable outcome of aiming for clarity in communication. And remember that notable historical figures like Thomas Jefferson and Leo Tolstoy stated the same contrasts using comparative terms like “diamonds” and “dung” to make the very same clarifying points that I am making.
Chat (like other AI) doesn’t fully get the reasons and intentions behind my focus or emphasis, hence its comment on my “rhetorical overload” (see Chat comments below). Well Chat, that is intended. Not to offend, but to make points real clear. At stake is understanding the real difference bewteen good and evil, and how we have too often been lulled by the common historical practise of many to “cloak evil as good”. To protect/defend evil under the canopy of the sacred. And we wonder why we get the same old outcomes, again and again.
Chat says:
Human violence is most powerfully shaped by images of Ultimate Reality (deity, destiny, justice), not merely by surface “ideology.”
And...
You are not singling out Islam; you are indicting a pattern.
Then...
If ultimate reality is morally ultimate, it cannot be morally inferior to the best forms of human love.
Further…
Your argument is strongest when it says: This is not about Muslims or Christians; this is about a recurring deformation of the sacred.
Any theology that sacralizes retaliation cannot ultimately reduce violence, because it trains believers to mirror the deity they worship
Also…
You are calling for: a revolution in humanity’s image of ultimate authority — from retaliatory to unconditional — as the only sustainable path beyond recurring violence.
State that plainly. It is the heart of your work.
More...
Final Assessment
This section is intellectually serious, morally urgent, and continuous with your larger “New Story” project. Its central insight — that images of God shape civilizations — is sound and necessary.
Its weaknesses are not conceptual; they are historical overreach and rhetorical overload.
Refined slightly, this could be one of your strongest flagship arguments — not because it attacks Islam or Christianity, but because it dares to ask the question most people avoid: What if our most sacred images are the very engines of our violence?
After the eruption of ISIS violence in 2014, U.S. General Michael Nagata acknowledged what military force alone could not solve: violent movements are driven by ideas, not merely by weapons. If we want to prevent recurring eruptions of religiously motivated violence, we must confront the deeper beliefs that inspire and justify them.
This applies not only to Islamism, but to all traditions— religious and secular— that sacralize violence in the name of justice, salvation, or purification.
The deeper problem: sacred violence
History repeatedly shows that the most destructive violence arises when retaliation is sanctified by ultimate authority. When God, history, nature, or destiny is imagined as a righteous destroyer, human beings learn to imitate that image. Behavior follows belief.
ISIS represented a classic example of salvation through destruction: a vision of a purified world achieved by annihilating perceived enemies. But this pattern did not originate with ISIS. It appears wherever apocalyptic, millennial, or retaliatory theologies dominate— whether in medieval crusades, early modern religious wars, Marxist revolutions, Nazi ideology, or contemporary environmental or ideological crusades that frame opponents as existential evils.
The common factor is not a specific culture or religion. It is a recurring deformation of humanity’s image of ultimate reality.
The “monster deity” at the root
Across Western religious traditions— and their secularized descendants— we find the same core features repeatedly attributed to ultimate authority:
1. Tribalism – favoring insiders while condemning outsiders
2. Domination – enforcing submission through absolute authority
3. Retaliation – defining justice as violent punishment of enemies
When these features are projected onto God, history, or destiny, violence becomes morally justified and even sacred.
This is the deeper “idea” that Nagata acknowledged we do not understand.
Christianity and the unresolved contradiction
Christianity illustrates the problem clearly. The teachings attributed to the historical Jesus articulate a radically different vision of God: unconditional, non-retaliatory, inclusive— even toward enemies. “Love your enemies,” not because they deserve it, but because God does.
Yet this vision was merged with a competing theology— articulated most fully by Paul— that reintroduced apocalyptic judgment, divine wrath, and salvation through violent sacrifice. The result was a religion holding two irreconcilable images of God: unconditional love and ultimate retaliatory destruction.
For centuries, this unresolved contradiction fueled crusades, inquisitions, religious wars, and the burning of heretics— often carried out by sincere believers convinced they were honoring God.
Modern Christianity has softened largely because the unconditional ethic of Jesus gradually moderated its harsher theology. But the underlying apocalyptic framework never disappeared. It re-emerged in secularized forms during the twentieth century with catastrophic results.
Islam and the absence of a counterweight
Islam emerged within the same ancient moral universe that defined justice as retaliation. Its sacred text repeatedly portrays God as wrathful toward unbelievers, enforcing justice through punishment and hellfire. Unlike Christianity, Islam did not incorporate a strong internal counter-narrative equivalent to Jesus’ rejection of “eye for eye.”
This does not mean all Muslims are violent, nor that Islam lacks traditions of mercy. It does mean that the core image of divine justice remains structurally retaliatory, leaving reform efforts dependent on moderation rather than transformation.
Modern Islamist movements draw directly on this theological framework. When God is imagined as a destroyer of unbelievers, human violence becomes imitation rather than deviation.
If ultimate reality is morally ultimate, it cannot be inferior to the best love humans already recognize.
By this criterion, any portrayal of God— or any ultimate authority— that legitimizes domination, tribal exclusion, or violent retribution fails the test of moral truth.
The real work ahead
This is not a call for suppression of religion, nor for superficial moderation. It is a call to confront the deepest images shaping human behavior.
As long as humanity worships a retaliatory ultimate authority—whether religious or secular—we will continue to reenact the same cycles of fear, fanaticism, and violence.
We have not defeated the idea.
And until we confront it honestly, we never will.
After the rise of ISIS, U.S. General Michael Nagata acknowledged a hard truth: military force alone cannot defeat movements driven by sacred ideas. Violence rooted in ultimate meaning cannot be neutralized by surface solutions. To prevent recurring eruptions of extremism, we must confront the deeper beliefs that inspire and justify them.
The most destructive violence in human history has not arisen merely from anger or greed, but from images of ultimate authority— God, destiny, history, or “justice”— that legitimize domination and destruction. When retaliation is sacralized, violence becomes righteous. Human beings imitate the ultimate reality they believe governs the world.
This pattern appears across cultures and eras: religious wars, crusades, inquisitions, revolutionary terror, totalitarian regimes, and modern apocalyptic movements. The common thread is not a particular religion or ideology, but a recurring deformation of the sacred.
At the root lies what can be called a “monster” image of ultimate authority, characterized by three traits:
• Tribalism — favoring insiders and condemning outsiders
• Domination — enforcing submission through absolute power
• Retaliation — defining justice as punishment and destruction
When these traits are projected onto God or destiny, violence becomes morally justified and even demanded.
Christianity illustrates this tension clearly. The teachings attributed to Jesus present a radically different vision of ultimate reality: unconditional, inclusive, and non-retaliatory— extending love even to enemies. Yet this vision was fused with apocalyptic and punitive theology that reintroduced divine wrath and salvation through violent judgment. For centuries, this unresolved contradiction fueled crusades and religious violence, even as the unconditional ethic slowly moderated its worst expressions.
Islam emerged within the same ancient moral universe that defined justice primarily as retaliation. While Islam contains traditions of mercy and restraint, its core portrayal of divine justice remains structurally punitive, lacking a strong internal counter-narrative equivalent to Jesus’ rejection of “eye for eye.” As a result, reform efforts rely on moderation rather than transformation, leaving the deeper image intact.
How should claims of divine inspiration be evaluated? A simple but demanding criterion is available to all: unconditional love. Psychology confirms it as foundational to human flourishing. Ordinary experience recognizes it as the highest form of love we know. If ultimate reality is morally ultimate, it cannot be inferior to the best love humans already understand.
As long as humanity worships retaliatory images of ultimate authority— religious or secular— we will continue to reenact cycles of fear, fanaticism, and violence.
We have not defeated the idea.
And until we confront it honestly, we never will.
(End of summary quotes from Chat. Chat’s full response is at bottom of the section just below.)