Is a person who identifies as a Christian possess stolen faith? If you have read Lilith Helstrom’s recent feature article, Jesus Caused The Palestinian Genocide, in Deconstructing Christianity, you’ve likely felt the sting of her central accusation: That Christianity is nothing more than a “religion of thievery” — a theological kleptomania that stole its holidays from pagans, its God from the Jews, and now, she claims, fuels the fires of genocide in Gaza.

Christians will say that the major theme of their religion is forgiveness and second chance.

I disagree. The most prominent theme in all of Christianity is thievery.

So many gods died and rose again before Christianity existed, including Osiris, Adonis, Attis, and Dionysus. The Sumerian goddess, Inna, was even dead three days and three nights before she was resurrected.

So how did Christians get their forgiveness story of Jesus dying on the cross and rising again? Through theological thievery.

Our culture is in a moment where people seem to be deconstructing from everything — gender, institutions, government, and now even the foundations of history itself. Helstrom’s argument strikes quite a nerve. It is a polemic weave of a terrifying narrative that connects the resurrection of Jesus to the so‑called “Jewish Problem” and the horrors of modern antisemitism.

Is the viral “history” actually historical? Or is it a dangerous distortion that conflates ancient myth with eyewitness reality?

Helstrom’s article is not a mere atheistic critique; it is a sweeping cultural indictment. She argues that because Christianity supposedly “stole” its resurrection story from myths like Osiris and Dionysus, it created a subconscious crisis — a Jewish Problem — that forces Christians either to assimilate Jews (under the guise of Christian Nationalism) or annihilate them (Nazism) to cover up the theft. In her telling, the Christian God becomes the architect of genocide, with a straight line drawn from the empty tomb to the current violence in Palestine.

These are heavy charges, and they demand more than a defensive shrug. They require forensic examination of history. If Christianity is merely a copycat religion, then its moral authority is indeed bankrupt. But if the similarities between pagan myths and the gospel are not evidence of theft, but of a “Divine Pattern” — echoes of truth scattered throughout time to prepare the world for a reality that actually happened — then her entire house of cards collapses.

To understand the war in Gaza and the roots of antisemitism, we don’t need to deconstruct Jesus. We need to distinguish the historical reality of the primitive Christian faith of the first‑century martyrs from the later state church of the Roman Empire that became the persecutor.

And no, this is not a defensive posture. It is a call to examine the historical and scholarly reality of the ancient world. In my recent presentations — Christianity and the Contemporary Pagan World and The Changing Role of Christianity in the Roman Empire — I explore the Graeco‑Roman worldview where the religious marketplace was crowded with hero‑redeemer cults and mystery religions.

Through the lens of Restoration theology, we will look at how the “patterns” of the ancient world — temples, washings, and anointings — are not evidence of plagiarism, but of a universal covenantal language that predates both Rome and Jerusalem. By utilizing primary source documents from the Roman era and a robust steelman analysis of Helstrom’s claims, this response will provide what the viral hot‑takes miss: a solid, point‑by‑point refutation based on historical fact, scriptural integrity, and the true origins of the Christian faith.

For readers who want a deeper exploration of how early Christian patterns were lost, transformed, and ultimately restored, I’ve covered this in my Apostasy to Restoration series:

Part 1: Executive Summary & Synthesis

Synthesis of the Argument Helstrom’s central thesis is that Christianity is fundamentally a religion of “thievery.” She argues that its core doctrines (resurrection, forgiveness), rituals (hymns, holidays), and scriptures were stolen from pagan myths (Osiris, Dionysus, Inanna) and from Jewish tradition. She posits that this foundational “theft” created a subconscious crisis she calls The Jewish Problem — the cognitive dissonance of worshiping a supposedly stolen Jewish God while needing to delegitimize the original owners.

According to her framework, this crisis manifests in two forms of antisemitism:

• Annihilation (Nazism): attempting to erase Jews physically to complete the theft.
• Assimilation (Christian Nationalism): attempting to erase Jewish culture by absorbing it into Christianity (supersessionism).

Finally, she concludes that this theological insecurity is the direct cause of historical atrocities (Crusades, Inquisition, Holocaust) and even modern geopolitical conflicts — ultimately blaming Jesus Himself for the violence in Palestine and the suffering of the Jewish people.

Part 2: Logical Fallacies & Structural Analysis

Helstrom’s argument relies heavily on rhetorical leaps rather than historical causality. Beneath the emotional force of her narrative lies a series of predictable logical fallacies that undermine her conclusions. Here are the primary ones at work:

1. Parallelomania (False Equivalence)

The Fallacy: Assuming that because two things share a similarity (e.g., a dying‑god motif), one must be a “theft” of the other.

How It’s Used: Helstrom equates the mythic cycles of vegetation gods (Osiris, Adonis, Attis, Dionysus) with the historical claim of Jesus’s resurrection. As explored in Episode 2: Christianity and the Contemporary Pagan World, this ignores the fundamental difference between:

• cyclical, symbolic, ahistorical myths, and
• a linear, eyewitness‑anchored historical claim.

Similarity is not causation, and resemblance is not plagiarism.

2. Genetic Fallacy

The Fallacy: Dismissing a belief or practice solely because of its alleged origins.

How It’s Used: She argues that because Christmas, hymns, or liturgical forms may have pagan cultural parallels, Christianity is therefore invalid “thievery.” This overlooks a basic truth of religious history: adopting cultural forms does not invalidate the message carried within them. Every major world religion has contextualized itself within existing cultures.

3. Straw Man

The Fallacy: Misrepresenting an opponent’s argument to make it easier to attack.

How It’s Used: Helstrom redefines the “major theme” of Christianity as thievery rather than redemption, grace, or reconciliation. She also collapses all Christian support for Israel into two motives — “assimilation” or “annihilation” — ignoring:

• geopolitical complexity,
• diverse theological traditions, and
• the biblical framework of blessing Israel (e.g., Genesis 12:3).

This is not analysis; it is caricature.

4. Post Hoc Ergo Propter Hoc (False Cause)

The Fallacy: “After this, therefore because of this.”

How It’s Used: She argues that because the Holocaust, the Crusades, and the Palestinian crisis occurred in a world shaped by Christianity, Jesus must therefore be the cause of these atrocities. This collapses centuries of political, ethnic, economic, and secular forces into a single simplistic explanation. As noted in Lesson 3, it also contradicts the teachings and behavior of the primitive Christian church, which rejected violence and coercion.

5. Psychologist’s Fallacy

The Fallacy: Claiming to know the subconscious motivations of an entire group without evidence.

How It’s Used: Helstrom asserts that all Christians suffer from a subconscious “crisis” over having “stolen” their religion from the Jews. This is not historical argumentation; it is speculative psychoanalysis projected onto millions of people across cultures, centuries, and denominations.

Part 3: Steelmanning the Argument

I want to take a moment and steelman Helstrom’s article — that is, to present her claims in their strongest, most charitable form before offering any critique. When framed this way, her argument may be summarized as follows:

Christianity emerged within a Greco‑Roman world saturated with hero‑redeemer mythos — dying and rising gods, mystery cults, and ritual dramas. Within the Jewish context of the first century, there was also a widespread expectation of a coming Messiah who would redeem Israel from Roman oppression.

From a historical perspective, it is true that the early Church adopted and “baptized” certain pagan dates (such as the Winter Solstice/Christmas) and artistic forms as part of its missionary strategy. It is also historically accurate that a significant strand of Christian theology — Supersessionism or Replacement Theology — taught that the Church replaced Israel. This doctrine has undeniably contributed to centuries of antisemitism and the marginalization of Jewish identity.

As a Latter‑day Saint Christian, I hold to the reality of Remnant Theology: that God has preserved a remnant of His covenant people, the ones He made promises to, and that they will be brought forth in the time known as the “fulness of the Gentiles.”

From this perspective, modern political support for Israel among some American Evangelicals can be interpreted as driven less by genuine solidarity and more by an eschatological framework in which Jewish people function as necessary actors in an End‑Times narrative. In this reading, Jews are valued not as a people with their own covenantal identity, but as prophetic “pieces” required to complete a Christian apocalyptic timeline.

As a Latter‑day Saint Christian, I hold to a more biblical and covenantal understanding of the literal gathering of Israel. Restoration scripture teaches that God has preserved a remnant of His covenant people and that the Gospel will be brought to them in the Lord’s own timing — “the first shall be last, and the last shall be first.” The entire purpose of the Book of Mormon and the Restoration is to gather both Jew and Gentile into their promised inheritance, restoring covenantal identity and the blessings of salvation and redemption. In this framework, Israel is not erased, replaced, or instrumentalized; Israel is remembered, restored, and gathered.

Part 4: Point‑by‑Point Refutation

1. Refutation of “Theological Thievery” (The Pagan Copycat Theory)

Claim: Christianity stole the resurrection story from Osiris, Adonis, Attis, and Dionysus.

Refutation — Myth vs. History: As detailed in Episode 2: Christianity and the Contemporary Pagan World, there is a categorical difference between the Mystery Cults and Christianity. Pagan gods such as Osiris and Dionysus were personifications of the vegetative cycle — winter death and spring rebirth. Their stories unfolded in illo tempore (mythic, cyclical time), not in historical chronology.

By contrast, the Apostles proclaimed Jesus as a real historical figure who lived, died under Pontius Pilate, and rose on a specific date. As your document notes:

“The Christian missionary… could bear witness to the reality of the resurrection of Jesus based on personal experience… There was no uncertainty on their part.”

Similarity does not equal derivation.

Common Patterns, Not Plagiarism

Shared Patterns and Restored Truths provide the correct interpretive lens: similarities across cultures are not evidence of theft but of a divine pattern — echoes of truth scattered throughout human history. C.S. Lewis famously described Christ as the “true myth,” the moment when the universal longing for a dying‑and‑rising redeemer became historical reality.

Restoration theology deepens this insight: these ancient patterns are remnants of a broken dispensation, not the source of Christian truth.

The “Thievery” of Hymns

Helstrom mocks the use of secular melodies in Christian hymns. This misunderstands sanctification. Transforming a secular tune for sacred use is not theft — it is redemption. It mirrors the Incarnation itself: God entering a common human form to sanctify humanity.

2. Refutation of “The Jewish Problem” (Supersessionism)

Claim: Christianity is built on erasing Jews (Annihilation) or absorbing them (Assimilation) because Christians know they “stole” the religion.

Refutation: Grafting, Not Stealing

The Pauline theology Helstrom critiques (Romans 11) explicitly rejects the arrogance she attributes to Christians. Paul teaches that Gentile believers are “wild olive branches” grafted into Israel’s covenant tree. He warns:

“Do not boast against the branches… you do not support the root, but the root supports you.”

This is not theft — it is humility and dependence.

Restoration Perspective — As Shared Patterns and Restored Truths explains, the Restoration does not view Christianity as stolen from Judaism. Instead, it sees the gospel as the restoration of an ancient covenantal order that predates both modern Judaism and historic Christianity. The “God of the Old Testament” is not a foreign deity to be appropriated but Jesus Christ (Jehovah) Himself.

The Olive Tree Allegory (Jacob 5): Restoration, Not Replacement

The Book of Mormon’s longest chapter — Jacob 5 — offers the most expansive scriptural treatment of Israel’s covenant identity. The Allegory of the Olive Tree explicitly rejects supersessionism.

In the allegory, the Lord of the vineyard does not uproot Israel or replace it with a new people; instead, He works tirelessly to preserve, nourish, prune, graft, and ultimately restore every branch of the House of Israel. Wild branches (Gentiles) are grafted in only to preserve the life of the whole tree, not to replace it. Likewise, natural branches (the Jews) are scattered, preserved, and later grafted back into their own tree in the Lord’s due time. The entire narrative is one of covenant fidelity, divine patience, and eventual restoration — not erasure. In this framework, Israel is not a theological problem to be solved but a covenant people to be gathered.

Historical Context of Persecution — Helstrom conflates the actions of “decadent Christianity” with the teachings of Jesus. Lesson 3: The Changing Role of Christianity in the Roman Empire draws a crucial distinction between:

• The Primitive Church — persecuted, pacifist, non‑coercive
• The State Church — politically empowered, coercive, and often violent

According to Helstrom:

“Decadent Christianity had apparently forgotten its own bitter experience… moving farther away from the pure gospel of Christ.”

Blaming Jesus for the sins of the apostate state church is like blaming a physician for the disease he came to cure.

3. Refutation of “Jesus Caused the Genocide”

Claim: The Palestinian genocide is happening because of Jesus; the Old Testament God supports genocide.

Refutation: The Apostasy Distinction

The violence Helstrom cites — Crusades, colonialism, modern geopolitics — is the historical evidence of the symptom of the Great Apostasy. Lesson 3 (Changing World of Christianity) explains that when the church sought political power under Constantine and Theodosius, it:

“Replaced the commandment of love… with the argument that it was more necessary to compel a person.”

These atrocities are not the result of following Jesus but of abandoning Him.

The Nature of the Covenant — Helstrom’s portrayal of the Old Testament God as purely genocidal ignores the nuance of the biblical narrative, where divine judgment is always preceded by centuries of patience, warnings, and opportunities for repentance.

The ethic introduced by Jesus — “Love your enemies, bless those who curse you” — is the precise antidote to the cycle of violence she condemns. If the combatants in the current conflict followed Jesus’s teachings, the war would end.

Civic Religion vs. True Religion — Lesson 3 (Changing World of Christianity) highlights that the Roman Empire persecuted Christians because they refused to participate in the state’s civic religion. Ironically, Helstrom’s demand that Christianity conform to her political worldview is itself a call for a new civic religion — one where faith is judged solely by its political utility.

Conclusion

Helstrom’s article is a classic example of the Genetic Fallacy combined with a fundamental misunderstanding of ancient history. She mistakes the universal human longing for redemption — reflected in the myths, rituals, and symbols of countless cultures — as evidence of “theft,” rather than recognizing it as a shared spiritual hunger woven into the human story. And she attributes the failures of apostate Christendom to the person of Jesus Christ, collapsing centuries of political corruption, imperial ambition, and theological distortion into a single, simplistic accusation.

The evidence tells a different story.

As the historical examination shows — the similarities between ancient religions do not point to plagiarism but to pattern — echoes of truth scattered across civilizations, preparing the world for a moment when myth became history. The Mystery Cults offered symbolic cycles; Christianity proclaimed an event. Pagan gods died every winter; Jesus died once in history and rose once in history. The parallels are not theft — they are prophecy.

Likewise, the atrocities Helstrom cites are not the fruit of the gospel but the fruit of its abandonment. The Primitive Church was persecuted, not persecuting. It was pacifist, not imperial. It was a community of martyrs, not magistrates. The violence of the Crusades, the Inquisition, and modern geopolitics belongs to the era of decadent Christianity, not the teachings of Christ.

Restoration theology sharpens this distinction even further. It affirms that God has preserved a remnant of Israel, that the covenants remain intact, and that the gathering of both Jew and Gentile is central to the work of Christ in the last days. Far from erasing Israel, the Restoration restores Israel. Far from replacing the covenant, it renews it. Jacob 5’s Allegory of the Olive Tree stands as a scriptural rebuke to supersessionism: the Lord of the vineyard does not uproot Israel — He labors to save it.

In the end, the question is not whether Christianity stole from the ancient world, but whether the ancient world was whispering about something real. The patterns, the myths, the rituals, the longings — they all point forward, not backward. They point to a historical person, a historical resurrection, and a historical covenant that continues to unfold.

The truth is simple: Jesus did not cause genocide. Jesus is the cure for it. And the more we come unto Him, to follow Him — not the distortions of empire, nationalism, or apostasy — the more clearly, we see that the gospel is not a story of theft, but of restoration, reconciliation, and redemption.