When did Christians start running from Satan?
Surely Ryanlyin -Romneyadelson, LLC., righteoUSly devout Christians they be, has an answer?
When did Christians as a whole, cross the line from sanity to psychotic paranoia after someone deposited a gift-wrapped package of satanic bullshit ideology at the base of a newborn's cradle sharing the shelter of beasts of burden (no porcine creatures to be sure), their water troughs, piss, shit, their feed, rodents, dogs, fleas, mites, ticks and whatever else was under farmshed's those days in a manger outside Semite villages like Bethlehem?
Crossed that line in the 99 years of 1CE? the 100 yrs of 2CE? The eleven since 2001CE? Probably at least since well before Martin Luther.
How did the concept of Satanism, the Devil, the personification of Evil, what have you, evolve from Judaism?
To be sure, such a quandry is a good question for a non-believer to ask in her Baptist college mandatory religion classes?
Another would be, could you go over again how it is my wonderful children were born with Sin and need to be saved from Satan?
Professor Lionryan, are you sure that after sweating it out for a week of days witnessing Mr. Baptist and another person, day after day except for Saturday of course, be the only ones up to their waste in the refreshing cool liquid of the local drinking water, that the only person who wouldn't want his turn with Senor Baptista would most likely be suffering from hydrophobia? Local, maybe even neighboring prostitutes, could only have loved it! But for hydophobes, who wouldn't?! except the local water board naturally, but a lot of them were somewhere near or around the crowd anyway. The fantasy hole had a lot going for it before recurring fecal contamination made heath official finally close down the operation. For one, it was a popular hangout whose traffic boosted the revenues of the local economies. Prostitutes from a day or two walk awa, able to go to Mr. Baptist for a one time only cleaning inside and out, and feeling so well afterward, with all the local males standing around the edges of the river, some even up to their crotches downstream cheering Mr. Baptist's wet-tshirt cermony...mano y mano, if only... well, those were the good ol' days even if only partly true.
So, Professor Lionryan. About my kids again...