The Divergence of Christianity and Islam from Early Judaic Theology: A Comparative Analysis

Introduction

Judaism, Christianity, and Islam share common origins in the ancient Near East, yet their theologies have diverged significantly over time. In particular, key doctrines in Christianity and Islam regarding the afterlife, the role of Satan, and the need for salvation stand in contrast to the foundational beliefs of early Judaism. Early (pre-exilic) Israelite religion, as reflected in the Torah and Tanakh, lacked concepts such as an eternal hell of torment, a fallen evil angel adversary, or a universal need for a personal savior from damnation. These ideas became prominent only in later periods and were heavily influenced by external sources, notably the dualistic cosmology of Zoroastrian Persia during and after the Babylonian Exile. Furthermore, Jewish mystical tradition (Kabbalah) emphasizes the Ein Sof (Infinite Divine) and the soul’s unity with it, implying that what later religions call “hell” is essentially a state of estrangement or illusion rather than eternal divine wrath. This dissertation will argue that Christianity and Islam significantly diverged from early Judaic theology in five key areas: (1) the concept of hell and eternal punishment, (2) the nature and role of Satan, (3) the notion of a personal savior and salvation from sin, (4) beliefs about the afterlife and cosmic dualism (often traced to Zoroastrian influence), and (5) the interpretation of suffering and evil in light of Jewish mysticism’s Ein Sof doctrine. We will draw on authoritative sources including the Hebrew Bible, Talmudic and Midrashic literature, Kabbalistic texts like the Zohar, and modern scholarship in comparative religion. Through a clear presentation of evidence and reasoned debate, we will show how later Christian and Islamic tenets represent a departure from early Jewish thought, address possible counterarguments, and consider the theological implications of these differences.

Early Judaic Conceptions of the Afterlife and “Hell”

No Eternal Damnation – The Primacy of Sheol: In the earliest strata of Judaic belief (prior to the 6th century BCE), there is no doctrine of an eternal hell of torment akin to what developed later in Christianity and Islam. The Hebrew Bible speaks of Sheʾol (שְׁאוֹל) as the destination of the dead – a shadowy, inert realm often simply synonymous with the grave. Crucially, this abode is not a place of judgment or moral recompense in early texts. As one survey notes, “While this vision of Sheol is rather bleak… there is generally no concept of judgment or reward and punishment attached to it,” and indeed books like Ecclesiastes and Job insist that all who die go down to Sheol, whether good or evil. Sheol is described as a dim underworld – “the Pit,” “the Land of Forgetfulness” – where the dead exist in a state of silence or sleep, cut off from the living and from full communion with God. There is no dichotomy of heaven versus hell for the righteous and wicked; rather, death itself was the great equalizer. For example, Job laments that in Sheol “the small and great are there” together (Job 3:19), and the Psalmist asks rhetorically, “What profit is there in my blood, when I go down to the pit [shachat]…? Will the dust praise You?” (Psalm 30:9), underscoring the bleak, non-punitive nature of the afterlife in early Israelite thought.

Divine Justice in Life, Not Afterlife: In early Judaism, God’s justice was perceived as operating primarily within this life (rewarding righteousness with prosperity or long life, and punishing wickedness with misfortune or untimely death) rather than in a post-mortem heaven or hell. The Torah’s covenants (e.g. the blessings and curses of Deuteronomy 28) frame reward and punishment in terms of earthly outcomes—rain or drought, victory or defeat—not eternal destinies of souls. As the TheTorah.com observes, in the pre-exilic worldview Sheol was simply “the fate of all people upon death.” The wicked might be “sent there” sooner (i.e. die early), while the pious might be blessed with longevity, but no one was consigned to endless torment after death. This is further evidenced by the lack of any clear reference to eternal damnation or fiery Gehenna in the Torah or in narratives of the early prophets. The worst fate for an individual was an ignominious death or being “cut off” from one’s people – a punishment realized in earthly terms, not perpetual suffering after death.

Sheol vs. Gehenna – Evolving Concepts: The term Gehenna (from Gei Hinnom, the Valley of Hinnom outside Jerusalem) appears in later biblical and intertestamental literature, but originally it referred to a physical location infamous for child sacrifice (cf. 2 Kings 23:10, Jeremiah 7:31). The prophet Jeremiah prophesied that this valley of Tophet would become the “Valley of Slaughter” for those who rejected God (Jer. 19:6-7), a metaphor of horrific carnage, but not a developed doctrine of an otherworldly hell. Only in the post-exilic period did Gehenna begin to be used figuratively for an arena of divine punishment after death. During the Second Temple era, especially in apocalyptic and wisdom texts, Jewish thought on the afterlife underwent significant development: Sheol was reconceived by some writers not just as a uniform realm of death, but as having compartments or differing fates for souls. Notably, the book of 1 Enoch (a non-canonical text from ca. 3rd–2nd century BCE) describes four chambers in Sheol to segregate the righteous, the moderately good, the wicked, and the worst of sinners – an early step toward moral differentiation in the afterlife. This indicates that only in later Judaism did the idea of post-mortem reward and punishment crystallize, paving the way for what would become, in Christianity and Islam, the stark heaven-hell dichotomy. As Prof. Meghan Henning summarizes, “During the Second Temple period, the negative attitude about death and Sheʾol develops into a concept of post-mortem punishment and eventually hell. 1 Enoch’s four chambers for the dead is the first step in that direction”. In short, the eternal hell familiar to Christianity and Islam was absent in early Jewish theology and arose only gradually in later Jewish imagination, heavily influenced by foreign ideas (as discussed later).

Temporary Punishment, Not Eternal Hell: Even when later Jewish sources did speak of punishment after death, it was typically seen as finite and purgatorial, not eternal. The Talmud and Rabbinic tradition in Late Antiquity (inherited from the Pharisaic outlook of the Second Temple period) taught that the stay of all but the most heinous sinners in Gehinnom (hell) is limited. A well-known rabbinic opinion is that the maximum duration of purgation in Gehenna is 12 months. After this period of purification through spiritual affliction, the soul is either rehabilitated to join the righteous or, in the case of truly irredeemable evildoers, mercifully annihilated (utterly “extinguished”) rather than tortured forever. The House of Hillel, representing the more lenient rabbinic view, explicitly stated that God’s mercy prevents eternal damnation: “the wicked are not punished forever,” most souls being cleansed and released after up to a year, and even for the worst individuals, “hell does not last for eternity”. In one Talmudic passage, the sages declare that in the messianic future “Gehinnom will be consumed” – hell itself will cease to exist – and thus “There is no Gehinnom in the world to come”. All of this stands in stark contrast to the Christian notion (articulated in the New Testament and later Church doctrine) of an eternal hell of fire “where their worm never dies and the fire is not quenched” (Mark 9:48, echoing Isaiah 66:24) and to the Islamic doctrine in the Qur’an of endless torment for unbelievers in Jahannam (Qur’an 4:168-169, etc.). In Judaism, whatever form of “hell” was envisaged by the late Second Temple and Talmudic sages, it was a temporary, remedial process (“closer to purgatory,” as one modern source notes) aimed at purifying the soul, not an infinite retribution without hope. “Contrary to the Greek and Christian view of eternal damnation in Hades or Hell, the ‘punishment’ of Sheol, as described in the Jewish Scriptures, is temporary,” explains one Jewish commentary, emphasizing that God would “not abandon [the] soul to Sheol” forever.

In summary, early Judaism did not conceive of hell as a dualistic counterpoint to heaven in which souls are eternally damned. The righteous and wicked alike originally shared the same fate in the twilight of Sheol, and even when later Jewish thought introduced post-mortem justice, it maintained the ideas of divine mercy and finite punishment. This represents a fundamental theological divergence from later Christianity and Islam, which came to center their cosmologies on the stark choice between eternal paradise and eternal hellfire. To the early Hebrews, such concepts would have been alien; their focus was on life and covenantal faithfulness here and now (“The dead do not praise the Lord… the living, only they praise the Lord,” Psalm 115:17-18), with righteousness rewarded primarily in this world. The shift to an intense otherworldly focus on heaven and hell in Christianity and Islam marks a significant departure from these Judaic origins.

The Role of Satan: Adversary or Cosmic Enemy?

Another major point of divergence is the understanding of Satan (or the Devil). In Christian and Islamic theology, Satan (also called Lucifer, Iblis, or Shaitan) is portrayed as a fallen angel or jinn who rebelled against God and now stands as God’s adversary and the embodiment of evil – effectively an enemy of God who rules over demons and seeks the spiritual ruin of humankind. This figure features prominently in the New Testament (e.g. Satan’s temptation of Jesus, his identification as “the evil one” and “ruler of this world”) and in the Qur’an (Iblis refusing to bow to Adam and thereafter misleading humans). However, this conception represents a dramatic development beyond the earliest Jewish concept of satan. In the Hebrew Bible, “the satan” (ha-satan) is not a personal name of a fallen demon, but a title meaning “the accuser” or “adversary,” often describing a role carried out under God’s authority. Far from being a rival god or autonomous evil entity, the satan in early Jewish texts is depicted as a member of God’s heavenly court – essentially an angelic prosecutor who tests or accuses human beings, but only within the limits God permits.

Satan in the Hebrew Bible: The clearest example of this is in the Book of Job. There, ha-satan appears among “the sons of God” (divine beings serving YHWH) and is authorized by God to test Job’s righteousness through suffering (Job 1–2). Satan in this story is not acting out of independent malice or in a war against God; to the contrary, he operates “unable to act without [God’s] permission”, as the Encyclopedia Judaica notes. He is “subordinate to God” and **“nowhere is he in any sense a rival of God.”** His function is akin to a prosecuting attorney or a divine quality-control agent, probing the sincerity of human virtue. Similarly, in Zechariah 3:1–2, the prophet has a vision of Joshua the High Priest standing before the angel of the Lord and “the Satan” standing at his right to accuse him; there too the Satan is a figure in the heavenly court, rebuked by the Lord but clearly a lawful accuser, not an external enemy overthrowing God. The Hebrew word satan itself simply means “adversary” or “opposer,” and is even used for human opponents or obstructing angels without any connotation of ultimate evil (for instance, the angel whom God sends to block Balaam’s way in Numbers 22:22 is called “a satan” – an adversary on God’s behalf). Nowhere in the Old Testament is there a myth of Satan’s rebellion against God or a fall from heaven prior to the creation of the world – narratives that feature prominently in later Christian lore and popular imagination. Verses often misconstrued as referring to a primordial fall of Satan (such as Isaiah 14:12’s taunt of the “Day-Star, son of Dawn” — helel ben shachar, later Latinized as Lucifer — or Ezekiel 28’s lament over the king of Tyre portrayed as a fallen cherub) are in context clearly directed at earthly rulers, using poetic metaphor and not describing any actual demon. Early Jewish interpreters did not identify these passages with Satan; that identification was a product of later Christian exegesis.

God as Sole Source of Good and Evil: A critical theological point in Judaism is that God is the ultimate source of all that exists; there is no independent principle of evil. The Hebrew prophets explicitly repudiated dualism. For example, God declares through Isaiah, “I form the light, and create darkness: I make peace, and create evil; I the LORD do all these things” (Isaiah 45:7). In other words, in the Hebrew worldview, what later religions would call “evil” (whether natural disaster or the impulse to sin) is ultimately under God’s creation and control, not the work of a hostile godling. Thus, the Christian claim that Satan (or the Devil) is a cosmic rebel who authored evil in the world is “utterly fraudulent according to our Tanach,” writes one Jewish commentator, precisely because of verses like Isaiah 45:7. The Jewish Scriptures contain no notion that Satan ever acted against God’s will. “There isn’t a single verse in the entire Tanach that states that Satan… ever disobeyed a command from God,” the same analysis emphasizes. Instead, **“Satan is an obedient servant of God in the Tanach who serves the role of man’s accuser in God’s court.”** This monotheistic purity – that God alone is sovereign and nothing, not even a tempting angel, lies outside His authority – was a cornerstone of early Judaism.

Origins of the Rebellious Devil Concept: By contrast, the full-fledged Devil of Christianity and Islam – a creature in active revolt against God, responsible for introducing sin and death – is a later development, and scholars trace much of this concept to cross-cultural influence during the Second Temple period. It is widely noted that Jews in the exilic and post-exilic era came into contact with Persian religion (Zoroastrianism), which taught a cosmic dualism between the benevolent deity Ahura Mazda and the evil spirit Angra Mainyu (Ahriman). This exposure seemingly influenced Jewish thought: in later apocryphal texts like 1 Enoch and Jubilees, we begin to see motifs of fallen angels and demonic forces (e.g. the Watchers who fall from heaven in Enoch, Azazel being cast out, etc.) that were previously absent. By the time of the New Testament, Jews of certain sects (especially those influenced by apocalyptic literature) had developed the idea of Satan as a more personalized evil. The New Testament writers indeed depict Satan as “a wicked, rebellious angel”, the archenemy of God and ruler of demonic forces – a portrayal that “quite likely evolved [this] character… into an evil angel and enemy of God based on theological Persian dualism”, where a cosmic evil being opposing the good deity is a central feature. In other words, the Christian Satan as a cosmic opponent is not a direct carry-over from the Hebrew Bible, but rather a transformed figure influenced by ideas external to early Israelite religion. The Qur’an, emerging in the 7th century CE, inherits this developed notion: Iblis (Satan) in Islam is a spirit who defied God’s command (by refusing to bow to Adam) and was cast out, later to become the tempter of humankind – a narrative with obvious parallels to post-biblical Jewish and Christian lore rather than to anything in the Torah.

Judaism’s Enduring Rejection of Divine Dualism: Mainstream Judaism never incorporated the doctrine of an independent evil being equal to or outside of God’s power. Even in later folklore and Kabbalah, while there are concepts of evil forces (such as the Sitra Achra or “Other Side,” and figures like Samael or Ashmodai), these are invariably subordinate to the divine will or viewed as the shadow produced by human sin, not autonomous rivals to God. Moreover, Jewish ethics emphasizes the internal origin of evil inclination (yetzer hara) within each person, which one is expected to master, rather than blaming an external devil for one’s sins. Thus, the notion of a cosmic battle between God and a nearly co-equal Satan is theologically alien to Judaism. The New Testament assertion that “the whole world lies in the power of the evil one” (1 John 5:19) or the Islamic view of Shaitan as a perpetual deceiver leading multitudes astray reflects a pessimistic dualism that early Jewish monotheism would not endorse. As one summary puts it, in Judaism “There is no devil… no rival to God” – Satan is mentioned in scripture “but not as a rival to God”. The difference is profound: Christianity and Islam turned Satan into the malevolent prince of a kingdom of evil, whereas in Judaism Satan was simply one of God’s servants, a challenging force that ultimately serves God’s purpose of testing and refining human souls. By promoting a powerful devil figure, Christianity and Islam diverged from Judaism’s uncompromising monotheism and its trust in God’s sole sovereignty over good and evil.

Salvation and the Personal Savior in Early Judaism vs Later Doctrines

A third critical divergence lies in the concept of salvation – specifically, the idea of a personal savior who delivers individuals from sin and hell. Central to Christian theology is the belief that all humans are tainted by original sin and are in need of salvation, which is attained only through the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ, the divine-human Messiah. Likewise, in Islam, while the framework differs (Islam rejects the idea of inherited original sin), there is still a strong emphasis on the need for God’s guidance and mercy to save one from Hellfire, and the prophets (culminating in Muhammad) show the path to salvation. Early Judaism, by contrast, lacked the doctrines of original sin and vicarious atonement by a messiah, and it did not view the relationship between God and humanity primarily in terms of being “saved from hell.” The notion that one needs to be “saved” from an eternal damnation by believing in a savior figure is fundamentally incompatible with early Jewish theology.

No Original Sin – Personal Responsibility: In the Jewish understanding of the Torah, each person is born with a clean slate and has the free will to choose good or evil; there is no concept that the sin of Adam irrevocably damned all his descendants. As a result, there is no automatic state of sinfulness from which one must be rescued by a redeemer. “Jews do not believe in the doctrine of original sin. This is a Christian belief,” explains Jews for Judaism bluntly. The idea that humanity inherits guilt from Adam and Eve, requiring a divine savior, was introduced by Paul (Romans 5:12) and developed by Church fathers like Augustine. Judaism rejected this from the outset: sin is a matter of individual wrong acts, not a “stain” one is born with. The biblical principle in Ezekiel 18:20 epitomizes Jewish teaching: “The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father… the righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him.” Therefore, the Christian notion that all are damned without accepting Jesus has no basis in the Tanakh. As one Jewish answer puts it, “It is alleged [by Christianity] that only acceptance of Jesus as savior from sin can redeem a person from sin. [And] All those who do not accept Jesus as their savior from sin are condemned to eternal suffering in hell.” Judaism flatly denies this framework. Instead, the “remedy for sin” in Judaism is teshuvah – sincere repentance, prayer, and seeking God’s forgiveness through right action. The Tanakh and Rabbinic literature are full of appeals to repent and assurances of God’s mercy to the penitent (e.g. Isaiah 55:7, Ezekiel 18:27-28). “Judaism teaches the biblical way to repentance and reconciliation with God,” without any need for an intermediary. In the Torah, when Israel sins, God invites them to return: “Return to Me, says the LORD of hosts, and I will return to you” (Zechariah 1:3) – directly, with no mention of a savior figure to mediate. Thus, salvation in Judaism is a process of turning back to God and His commandments, not being rescued by someone else’s death or merit. The very idea of needing a savior to escape hell would have been foreign to an ancient Israelite, for whom obedience to the law (Torah) and God’s gracious forgiveness upon repentance were the means of atonement (cf. 2 Chronicles 7:14, Jonah 3:10). Even the sacrificial system of the Temple was not seen as magical sin-eraser but as a ritual aid to repentance; the prophets emphasized that God desires a contrite heart and ethical living over sacrifice (Hosea 6:6, Micah 6:6-8).

Messiah in Judaism – Not an Divine Redeemer from Sin: Early Jewish expectations of a Messiah (Hebrew: Mashiach, “anointed [king]”) also differed radically from the Christian concept of a divine savior. In the Hebrew Bible, “messiah” usually referred to any anointed person (high priest, king); the idea of the Messiah developed later, particularly during and after the Exile, as Jews longed for an anointed leader to restore the Davidic kingdom and bring about an era of peace and godliness on earth. Notably, some of the earliest messianic or savior language in Isaiah actually refers to a Gentile king – Cyrus of Persia is called God’s anointed (Isaiah 45:1) for his role in liberating the Jews. The Second Isaiah passages (Isa. 40–55) speak of Israel’s restoration and hint at a figure who brings righteousness, which later generations read messianically. As one historical analysis notes, “Already in the book of Second Isaiah, possibly written during the Exile, the prophet speaks of a Savior who would come to rescue the Jewish people… In many verses, he identifies Cyrus the liberator as that Messiah”. In other words, the Messiah in early Jewish thought was a national deliverer, not an incarnate deity saving souls from hell. The Zoroastrian influence may also have catalyzed a parallel “messianic” idea; Zoroastrianism taught of a future savior (the Saoshyant) who would renovate the world. Jewish and Persian concepts “evolved… in parallel,” and over time, both traditions started attributing more cosmic significance to their savior figures. By the turn of the era, some Jewish groups did hope for a special Messiah (or even multiple messianic figures in certain Dead Sea Scroll texts) who would redeem Israel. But crucially, Judaism never envisioned the Messiah as a divine being who dies as a vicarious atonement for mankind’s sins. The Christian claim that “Jesus died for your sins” has no analogue in Judaism. In fact, the very notion of an innocent human sacrifice as atonement conflicts with Torah theology (Deut. 24:16 again: each is accountable for his own sin). Judaism holds that everyone has access to God’s forgiveness by returning to Him: “Return to Me, and I will return to you” – *“This is an invitation from God to return directly to Him without the need for an intermediary to help us.”*. Thus, the Christian idea of a necessary mediator (cf. 1 Tim 2:5) or Islam’s doctrine that accepting Muhammad’s message is the dividing line between salvation and damnation, diverge from Judaism’s original teaching of a universal, direct relationship between each person and God.

Personal vs. Communal Salvation: Early Judaism’s outlook was more collective and this-worldly in terms of “salvation.” In the Hebrew Bible, when God “saves,” it often means delivering His people from physical danger or oppression (as in the Exodus from Egypt, or saving Israel from enemies in battle). The concept of yeshuʿah (salvation) was not about being saved from eternal hell, but about being saved from famine, war, exile, and the like. Even in the afterlife context that emerged later, the concern was often national resurrection (e.g. Ezekiel’s vision of dry bones symbolizing Israel’s revival). By contrast, Christianity reframed salvation as intensely personal and spiritual – rescue of one’s soul from sin and its consequences (hell). Jesus is termed “personal savior” in Christian parlance, indicating that each individual must have a faith relationship with him to be saved. A Jewish critique of this notes: *“The essential difference between Jews and Christians is that Christians accept Jesus as messiah and personal savior. Jesus is not part of Jewish theology.”*. Indeed, no equivalent role exists in Judaism for a savior who guarantees one’s afterlife bliss; in Judaism, each person must seek atonement through repentance, prayer, and ethical action (especially during periods like the High Holy Days). Even in late Second Temple times, sects like the Pharisees believed in God’s grace and forgiveness, but not that the Messiah (whom they expected as a future king) would die for sins or provide a guaranteed ticket to heaven. Islam similarly does not posit a divine savior, but it does preach the need to submit (islam means submission) to God and accept Muhammad as His messenger to have guidance and mercy on Judgment Day. In that sense, Islam too requires personal adherence to a revealed path for salvation (the Shahada, the pillars of faith, etc.), again a different orientation than ancient Judaism’s emphasis on covenantal living and repentance as ends in themselves.

In sum, early Judaism lacked the doctrines of inherent damnation and required salvation that define Christianity (and to a degree Islam). Judaism does believe in God’s ultimate redemption – but this is typically envisioned as the redemption of Israel (and the world) from suffering and injustice, not as the rescue of individuals from a default destination of hell. The Christian focus on being “saved” from God’s wrath by the grace of a savior, and the Islamic emphasis on escaping hell by faith and good deeds under God’s mercy, reflect a later theological worldview that significantly departed from the original Jewish paradigms of personal accountability, repentance, and the direct forgiveness of a merciful God. As a Jewish theologian succinctly put it, *“God’s message of love and compassion is: ‘Return to Me… and I will return to you’… This is a personal and direct relationship with God… within everyone’s grasp… without any intermediary”*. This concept stands at odds with the later insistence that an intermediary (be it Christ or a final Prophet) is indispensable for one’s salvation.

Zoroastrian Influence on Afterlife, Judgment, and Cosmic Dualism

One of the most pivotal factors in the divergence of Christian and Islamic theology from early Judaism was the infusion of new ideas about the afterlife and cosmic struggle during the Jewish interaction with Zoroastrianism. Zoroastrianism, the religion of the Persian Empire which ruled over the Jews following the Babylonian Exile (6th–4th centuries BCE), had well-developed doctrines of heaven and hell, a final judgment, a dualistic cosmos of good versus evil, and a messianic figure. Historical and textual evidence strongly suggests that during and after the Exile, Jews gradually absorbed and adapted many of these concepts, which later became core features of Christian and Islamic eschatology.

Afterlife and Final Judgment: Prior to the Exile, as discussed, Israelites had no concept of a morally determined afterlife; Sheol was a “dull, Hades-like place” where all the dead went. This changed markedly after exposure to Persian thought. Zoroastrianism taught that after death, souls are judged at a bridge (the Chinvat Bridge) and assigned either to a heaven of joy or a hell of torment based on their deeds, pending a future resurrection. Strikingly, after the Exile, we see Jewish texts start to speak of a “moralized afterlife, with heavenly rewards for the good and hellish punishment for the evil,” a concept that was absent before. The Book of Daniel (likely written in the 2nd century BCE under Seleucid rule, but reflecting ideas that had been percolating since Persian times) contains the clearest early biblical reference to resurrection and post-mortem judgment: “Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt” (Daniel 12:2). This notion of a bifurcated fate – eternal life versus everlasting disgrace – is a radical departure from earlier scripture and closely parallels Zoroastrian eschatology, which from its earliest hymns (the Gathas of Zarathustra) envisioned a final division of the righteous and wicked after death. In fact, even the word “Paradise” for heaven entered Jewish vocabulary through Persia: it derives from Old Iranian pairi-daēza (“enclosed garden”), and appears in later biblical books (e.g. the Persian loan-word pardes in Nehemiah 2:8) to denote a garden-like abode of the blessed. This is a telling linguistic proof of concept transfer – the very term for heaven in Western religions comes from the Persians. As Mary Boyce and other Iranologists have documented, *“Zoroastrianism’s concepts of heaven, hell and final judgment influenced Judaism, Christianity and Islam”*. By the intertestamental period (3rd–1st centuries BCE), Jewish apocalyptic writings like 1 Enoch, 2 Enoch, 4 Ezra, and the Apocalypse of Baruch elaborated detailed scenarios of judgment, heaven and hell – elements that would later be woven into Christian doctrine (for example, the New Testament’s vivid imagery of fire, angels, demons, and end-time judgment owes much to this Second Temple apocalyptic tradition).

Cosmic Dualism – Angels and Demons: Zoroastrianism is famously dualistic: the world is a battleground between the good Lord (Ahura Mazda with his angels, like the Amesha Spenta) and the evil spirit (Angra Mainyu/Ahriman with his demonic hordes). Before the Exile, Israelite religion was monistic (all things, good or bad, come from the one God). But afterward, Jewish literature shows an increased interest in angels and demons and a tendency to attribute evil to spiritual antagonists. We’ve already traced how the concept of Satan as a cosmic enemy likely solidified under Persian influence. The Dead Sea Scrolls (1st century BCE Essene texts) display a stark dualism – they speak of a war between the “Sons of Light” and “Sons of Darkness” and identify a chief demonic leader (variously called Belial or Mastema) who sounds very much like an Ahriman figure in opposition to God’s prince of light. This apocalyptic dualism flows directly into Christian writings (the New Testament refers to “rulers, authorities, cosmic powers of this present darkness,” Eph 6:12) and later into Islam (the Qur’an has an elaborate angelology and demonology and a strong theme of believers vs. Satan and his cohorts). These ideas were not native to original Judaism. Academic consensus holds that “certain elements of Zoroastrianism entered into Judaism, including the increased importance of the Devil figure and the idea of a Final Judgment” during the time between the Old and New Testaments. The HowStuffWorks article on Zoroastrianism concisely notes: “After the Babylonian exile… many [Jews] exchanged religious ideas with Zoroastrians…. Zoroastrian-style dualism showed up in apocryphal Jewish literature. That’s the period when… the Devil figure and the idea of a Final Judgment” become prominent in Judaism. We see this, for instance, in the development of a named demonology: pre-exilic texts rarely (if ever) name evil spirits, but later texts speak of Azazel, Asmodeus, Lilith, etc., reflecting either foreign influence or internal development in a more dualistic direction.

Resurrection of the Dead: The Jewish belief in the resurrection of the body at the end of days – a cornerstone of Christian doctrine (as in the resurrection of Christ and the general resurrection taught in 1 Corinthians 15) and of Islamic eschatology (Qur’an 36:78-79, etc.) – also appears to have been stimulated by Zoroastrian ideas. Zoroastrianism taught a future event called Frashokereti, the Restoration, when the dead will rise and the world will be renewed free of evil. Prior to the Exile, there is no clear reference to resurrection in Jewish texts (individual cases like Elijah reviving a child are miracles, not eschatology). But after the Exile, especially by the 2nd century BCE, the notion that the righteous dead would be raised to life and the wicked to judgment took hold (again, Daniel 12:2 is pivotal evidence). Notably, the Sadducees (who were priestly Jews conservative in theology) in Jesus’ time denied the resurrection and the existence of angels/spirits (Matthew 22:23, Acts 23:8) – indicating that these beliefs were still contested innovations in Judaism. The Pharisees and later the Rabbis, however, embraced resurrection as a tenet, and it became part of normative Jewish belief (one of Maimonides’ 13 principles of faith). Bart Ehrman points out that these afterlife beliefs seem to have entered Jewish thought hand-in-hand with apocalyptic dualism; the idea of bodily resurrection and the idea of a cosmic Satan likely arose in the same circles and period – suggesting a common source of inspiration (quite plausibly Persian religion, though Hellenistic ideas and internal developments also played a role). Indeed, one scholar notes: *“One of the most visible changes after the Exile is the emergence of a Jewish idea of Heaven, Hell, and the afterlife. Before the Exile and Persian contact, Jews believed that the souls of the dead went to ... ‘Sheol.’ After the Exile, [we see] the idea of a moralized afterlife, with heavenly rewards... and hellish punishment... appear in Judaism”*. This alignment in timing strongly indicates the influence of Zoroastrian cosmology on Jewish thought. In short, the framework of a final resurrection and judgment that Christianity and Islam inherited was set during the Second Temple era under the influence of Persian (and later Greek) ideas.

Messianism and the Savior Concept: We should also note that the concept of a personal savior or messiah who brings salvation to the world may have been reinforced by Zoroastrianism. As mentioned, Zoroastrians expected a series of saviors (saoshyants), including one great savior born of Zoroaster’s lineage, who would lead the final battle against evil and resurrect the dead. Post-exilic Judaism’s messianic hopes bear some resemblance to this. While the idea of a future Davidic king was already present in pre-exilic prophets (e.g. Isaiah 9, Micah 5), the heightened eschatological and quasi-divine aura that later attached to the Messiah can be seen as partially parallel to Iranian ideas. The OLLI lecture notes observe: *“It is also thought that the Jewish idea of a coming Savior, or Messiah, was influenced by Zoroastrian messianism…. The growth of messianic ideas is parallel in both Jewish and Iranian thought”*. Initially, as that source explains, neither tradition saw the savior as a singular divine incarnation – e.g. in Judaism, even Cyrus could be called “Messiah” for his role – but over time, “the Saoshyant and the Messiah take on a special, individual, almost divine quality” in each tradition. This evolution set the stage for Christianity’s claim of a once-and-for-all divine Messiah who saves humanity. From the Jewish perspective, Christianity’s elevation of the Messiah to an incarnate God dying for sins was an outgrowth of ideas foreign to the earliest Judaic framework, potentially galvanized by this cross-cultural exchange of savior expectations.

In summary, Zoroastrian influence was a catalyst that transformed the simple monotheistic worldview of early Israel into a richer (but theologically more complex) tapestry of beliefs about angels and demons, heaven and hell, end-time judgment, resurrection, and a cosmic struggle between good and evil. Judaism absorbed and adapted these ideas to varying degrees in the Second Temple period. Christianity, emerging from that milieu in the 1st century CE, fully embraced these concepts – Satan as a god of this world, eternal hell vs. eternal life, the Messiah as a divine savior, etc. – and made them central doctrines. Islam, likewise, coming in the 7th century, inherited the apocalyptic and dualistic framework: the Qur’an’s vivid depictions of paradise and hell, its acknowledgement of angels (Gabriel, Michael, etc.) and jinns, and its view of history as a battle between the followers of truth and the followers of Satan, all reflect that same post-biblical worldview which was shaped significantly by Zoroastrian and other Near Eastern influences. Importantly, Islam venerates many of the same figures of late Jewish apocalyptic thought – for instance, it affirms a day of resurrection and judgment, the coming of a Messiah (identified with the return of Jesus in Islamic eschatology), and even uses the word firdaws (from pairi-daeza, paradise) for the highest garden of heaven. None of these concepts would have been recognizable to an Israelite circa 700 BCE worshipping YHWH and focusing on the blessings of land, peace, and progeny in this life. Thus, Christianity and Islam’s theological world, especially concerning the afterlife and cosmology, represents a divergence from early Judaic religion, largely due to the historical process of syncretism and religious evolution during the Exile and Second Temple period.

The Ein Sof and the Mystical View: Evil as Separation, Not Eternal Punishment

Jewish mysticism, particularly the Kabbalistic tradition articulated in texts like the Zohar (circa 13th century, but containing earlier ideas), offers profound insights into how Judaism conceptualizes God, the soul, and evil – insights which further highlight the gulf between Judaism and the later dogmas of Christianity and Islam regarding hell and damnation. Central to Kabbalah is the concept of Ein Sof (אֵין סוֹף, “the Infinite” or “Endless” One), the utterly transcendent, limitless aspect of God. The Ein Sof is beyond all attributes and definitions – it is pure, boundless divinity. All of creation is seen as an emanation from the Ein Sof through a series of sefirot (divine emanations or attributes), meaning that every creature, every soul, in its root is linked to the Infinite light (Ohr Ein Sof). In this mystical framework, the ultimate reality is unity (often called achdut or oneness), and perceived dualities – light vs. darkness, good vs. evil, paradise vs. hell – are temporary and ultimately illusory distinctions that will be resolved as one returns to union with the Divine. Consequently, the Kabbalistic view of “hell” (Gehinnom) is radically different from the eternal torture pit of later Christian/Islamic imagination: hell is not a place where God’s love is absent or His wrath reigns forever, but rather a state of consciousness – a soul’s experience of distance from the Divine, which is, by its nature, transient and corrective.

Hell as Separation from God’s Light: Many rabbinic and mystical sources describe the suffering of Gehinnom in terms of distance or separation from God, rather than physical fire. In a famous Talmudic interpretation, the “fire” of Gehinnom is the burning shame or regret the soul feels when reviewing its misdeeds in the light of truth – a spiritual anguish more than a literal flame. This dovetails with the Kabbalistic idea that the pain of sin is that it creates a barrier (albeit a thin and ultimately penetrable one) between the soul and the Ein Sof. The ultimate punishment is hester panim (the hiding of God’s face), meaning the soul’s inability to sense the divine presence. This is not a permanent condition, because no spark can be separated from God forever – the Infinite Light eventually permeates everywhere. Indeed, as noted earlier, the Rabbis said that even in Gehenna, the wicked are “kept away from God” only for a limited time. Bart Ehrman summarizes the rabbinic view: *“hell is temporary, 12 months at most… and consists of being kept away from God.”* The phrasing is telling: Hell is defined by a relational state (away from God), not by literal geography or endless duration. In Kabbalistic terms, because God is infinite and omnipresent, there truly is no place devoid of God – even Gehenna is not a kingdom ruled by Satan against God, but a compartment of reality where souls, due to their own spiritual impurities, perceive themselves as distant from the light. This distance is an experience that teaches and purifies rather than an objective eternal decree. In the Zohar and later mystical writings, we find that what we call evil or “the Other Side” (Sitra Achra) is essentially the result of the concealment of God’s light; once the concealment is lifted, evil has no true existence of its own. Thus, hell is an illusion arising from lack of divine awareness. The Zohar famously describes God’s revelation at Sinai as simultaneous “black fire on white fire” – the right hand (mercy) and left hand (judgment) united. It then says that heaven (Paradise) and hell (Gehinnom), symbolized by right and left, are actually adjacent and even intertwined, with God between them and a mere hairsbreadth separating the two. “Paradise is on God’s right… Gehinnom on the left… the two were against one another,” and the rabbis debate the exact “distance” between them – some say as narrow as the thickness of a wall or a handbreadth. The mystical teaching here is that the boundary between bliss and suffering is very thin and exists within our own perception. At every moment, a person stands “precisely where [heaven and hell] meet,” a step away from either, depending on whether one faces toward God or turns away. This poetic imagery underscores that heaven and hell are not two creations of God locked in eternal opposition (as in strict dualism), but rather two experiential states relative to God’s presence. God’s “right hand” of love and “left hand” of judgment ultimately clasp together as one – indicating that in the ultimate reality, the dichotomy is overcome.

Ultimate Reunion – No Eternal Evil: Kabbalah, in harmony with certain prophetic visions, holds an eschatological hope that all separation will be mended. In the “World to Come” (Olam Ha-Ba), the mystics teach that even the concept of hell will vanish because *“opposites will blend into one another, evil will no longer exist, and suffering will disappear.”* This is essentially a vision of universal restoration. The Ein Sof’s infinite light will fill all reality, leaving no room for the shadows of Gehinnom. The Zohar (and later Hasidic masters) convey that at the end of days, the Divine Light (sometimes called the “Great Light” or Ohr Ein Sof) will be fully revealed and heal all souls and even the forces of negativity. An allusion to this appears in an Agaddic teaching: “In the future, the Holy One will take the sun out of its sheath – the righteous will be healed by it, and the wicked will be judged by it” (BT Nedarim 8b). Kabbalists interpret the “sun taken out of its sheath” as a metaphor for the unveiled Ohr Ein Sof shining everywhere. When this occurs, the righteous experience it as healing warmth (Paradise) and the wicked as burning exposure (judgment) – but notably, this is a one-time cathartic judgment, not unending torture. After that, all impurities are burned away and only unity with God remains. Thus even the wicked “will not be consumed” ultimately – they outlast Gehinnom, which itself is consumed and ceases to be. This merciful theology stands at odds with the eternal damnation scenario of Christian and Islamic tradition, where the souls of the wicked are believed to continue forever in conscious punishment. Judaism – especially in its mystical vein – cannot accept an eternal hell because that would imply an eternal principality of evil and suffering outside of God’s plan, which conflicts with the fundamental Jewish belief in God’s oneness and ultimate goodness. As the Talmud puts it succinctly: *“There is no Gehinnom in the world to come.”* All souls will have been rehabilitated or, at worst, mercifully dissolved back into the cosmic source.

The Soul’s Journey: Kabbalah also introduces concepts like gilgul neshamot (reincarnation of souls) and various levels of soul purification, which further mitigate against an eternal hell. If a soul fails to fulfill its mission or is too blemished, it may be given additional chances through rebirth, or it might undergo temporary purifications in spiritual realms. But the arc of the soul is always aimed toward tikun (rectification) and return to Ein Sof. The idea of a soul being eternally damned is antithetical to this worldview. Instead, what might be perceived as “hell” is either a temporary state post-death (no longer than 12 months as per Rabbinic lore) or the existential state of a person in this life who is alienated from God (a notion echoed by some Hasidic masters who say that living a Godless life is itself Gehenna). In fact, one Chasidic interpretation of a saying by Rebbe Nachman of Breslov is that this world with its sufferings can itself be a form of Gehinnom for those not attuned to God – turning the common idea on its head.

To encapsulate the contrast: Christianity and Islam tend to portray hell as a concrete, everlasting realm prepared for the damned, a final separation from God. Judaism, particularly in its deeper teachings, views what we call “hell” as a temporary estrangement that is ultimately destined to be healed. Where Christianity and Islam posit an eternal duality (heaven vs. hell, God’s people vs. Satan’s followers, saved vs. damned), Judaism’s monotheism (especially as articulated by Kabbalah) points to an ultimate unity where Ein Sof is all in all and negativity is a transient shadow. In the words of the mystics, “life eternal” in the Garden of Eden restored is the true future, *“not life as we know it because opposites will blend… evil will no longer exist”*. Thus, the “hell” of Jewish thought is more psychological and purgatorial – a state of not being aligned with God – and it is not permanent. This concept is entirely at odds with the later rigid formulations of eternal damnation; it underscores how far Christianity and Islam have diverged from Judaism’s original ethos and its mystical vision of God’s unity and mercy.

Counterarguments and Theological Responses

In presenting the above argument, several potential counterpoints from Christian or Islamic perspectives (or even from within later Judaism) deserve to be addressed. Below, we consider some of the main objections and offer responses based on historical and textual evidence:

Objection: “Elements of heaven, hell, and Satan do appear in the Old Testament; perhaps Christianity and Islam simply continued and expanded what was already there, rather than diverging from Judaism.”
Response: It is true that later parts of the Hebrew Bible (especially post-exilic texts) contain seeds of concepts that Christianity and Islam developed further. For instance, Daniel 12:2 speaks of afterlife reward and punishment, and the figure of Satan appears in Job and Zechariah. However, these instances are late and exceptional in the Tanakh and were not part of early Israelite core beliefs. Crucially, there is no indication in the Hebrew Bible that hell is eternal or that Satan is a rebellious demon. Daniel’s mention of “everlasting contempt” for some of the dead is one verse in a book written around 165 BCE, reflecting ideas that had grown during the Persian/Greek periods – it post-dates Zoroastrian influence and is not representative of early Judaic thought. Likewise, the presence of “the satan” in a few biblical stories does not mean the Old Testament endorses the Christian Devil doctrine; as explained, those references depict a subordinate accuser, not a rival of God. Early Judaism did not systematize these ideas in the way Christianity and Islam did. It was only in the Second Temple era (roughly 5th c. BCE onward) that a more differentiated afterlife and personified evil started to appear in Jewish literature, and even then, Jewish interpretation of these remained within a monotheistic, finite framework. Christianity and Islam diverged by elevating these late-emerging ideas to central dogmas (e.g. eternal hell is absolutely central in the New Testament and Qur’an, whereas it is virtually absent in the Torah and pre-exilic prophets). In short, while Christianity/Islam drew on some biblical language, they fundamentally reworked it, departing from the earlier Jewish understanding. As a simple measure: nothing in the Hebrew Bible’s first five books (the Torah) – the theological foundation of Judaism – describes hell, Satan, or a savior in the way later faiths do. Any doctrine so vital that its acceptance or rejection determines one’s eternal fate (as in Christianity/Islam) would surely be clearly laid out in God’s original revelation if it were truly part of that faith. Its conspicuous absence in early Scripture speaks volumes.
Objection: “By the time of Jesus and Muhammad, Jews themselves believed in many of these things (resurrection, heaven/hell, angels, etc.). So how can we say Christianity and Islam diverged from Judaism, when Second Temple Judaism already had similar concepts?”
Response: It’s correct that by the 1st century BCE/CE, many Jews (especially Pharisees and Essenes) did believe in resurrection, angels, a notion of Gehenna, and so on – which is exactly why Christianity and Islam share those ideas. But the crucial point is chronology and originality: these ideas were new developments relative to early Judaism. They represent a divergence within Judaism itself from its older theology, largely under external influence (as we discussed with Zoroastrianism). Christianity and Islam effectively canonized and dogmatized the later strata of Jewish belief, rather than the original. For example, the Pharisaic belief in resurrection and punishment for the wicked became Christian orthodoxy (e.g. the Nicene Creed’s resurrection of the dead, the Gospel teachings on hellfire) and Islamic doctrine (Qur’an’s Day of Judgment). However, note that even within Judaism, these concepts were debated – e.g. the Sadducees (contemporaries of Jesus) rejected resurrection and any afterlife, hewing closer to the older Torah-based view that reward/punishment are in this life. So it’s fair to say Christianity and Islam aligned with one trajectory of Jewish thought (the apocalyptic, dualistic trajectory), but that trajectory itself was a departure from the more ancient norm. Moreover, Christianity went much further – for instance, Jews never concluded that the Messiah would be God incarnate or that failing to accept the Messiah would damn one’s soul. Islam too introduced new twists – for instance, an extremely graphic and detailed hell with specific torments, and a cosmology including jinn spirits, which, while partly drawn from Near Eastern lore including Jewish aggadah, was not a continuation of any early “pure” Judaism. In sum, by the time these religions emerged, Judaism had evolved, and they adopted the evolved ideas. The divergence we speak of is essentially from the early Judaic baseline (before those later ideas entered). Christianity and Islam are in continuity with late Second Temple Judaism, but that late Judaism had already diverged from its own earlier self. This perspective reinforces, rather than undermines, the argument: it shows that the stream of tradition split – one branch being rabbinic Judaism (which actually moderated some of the apocalyptic extremes) and the other branch leading to Christianity (and later Islam), which amplified certain divergent ideas.
Objection: “From a Christian perspective, the changes are not ‘divergences’ but fulfillments – God revealed more of His plan (heaven, hell, the Messiah) in the New Testament. From an Islamic view, concepts like hell and Satan were originally taught by Abraham and Moses too, but Jews might have lost or obscured them, and Islam restored them.”
Response: These claims belong to the internal theological narratives of Christianity and Islam (often called supersessionism in Christianity and the idea of tahrif or corruption of earlier scripture in Islam). Historically and academically, however, we can assess the development of ideas through texts and contexts. The evidence does not show that early Israelites had a full doctrine of heaven, hell, Satan, etc., which then got lost until Christianity/Islam “refulfilled” it. Instead, we see these ideas entering Jewish thought at specific historical points (largely during the Persian and Hellenistic eras). If one adopts a faith perspective of progressive revelation, one could say “God chose not to reveal much about the afterlife or Satan until later.” But that is itself an admission that Christianity/Islam introduced new theological content not evident in early Judaism. Our argument is from a scholarly perspective: the continuity claimed by later religions is not supported by a straight reading of early Jewish texts. For example, if Abraham or Moses had taught clearly about eternal hell or a devil, one would expect the Torah to mention it – but it doesn’t. The Islamic claim (in the Qur’an) that Abraham or other patriarchs were actually proto-Muslims who believed essentially in the same creed as Muhammad is a matter of faith, not history; the Hebrew Bible portrays Abraham and Moses with the worldview we have described (no Satan figure influencing them, no preaching of heaven/hell – their concerns were descendants, covenant, the land, etc.). Thus, academically, we conclude these later doctrines are indeed innovations when compared to ancient Israelite religion. Whether one interprets those innovations as legitimate divine revelations or as foreign influences is a matter of one’s faith or critical perspective. The key point remains: the content of Christianity’s and Islam’s doctrines shows substantial differences from the content of the Torah’s doctrine. Therefore, from the viewpoint of early Judaism, much of what those later religions preach would appear novel or even contradictory (e.g. the idea that God would condemn someone eternally for not believing in Jesus would be alien, even abhorrent, to early Judaic sensibilities focused on just conduct and repentance).
Objection: “Doesn’t the Hebrew Bible itself mention something like eternal fire in Isaiah 66:24 (‘their worm shall not die, their fire shall not be quenched’)? And what about the figure of the Serpent in Genesis – later revelation identifies it as Satan. Could it be that the seeds of these ideas were there all along, just not fully understood by Jews until later?”
Response: Isaiah 66:24 indeed speaks of those who rebelled against God being dead, their corpses consumed by maggots and fire, as a horrifying image – but in context this is a scene on earth (after God’s final judgment, people can apparently see the corpses of the wicked). It is a metaphor of utter destruction, not a literal description of disembodied souls in hell. The “fire not quenched” and “undying worm” signify complete, shameful ruination of these corpses, not conscious eternal torment – the verse is actually describing the aftermath of the battle of Gog and Magog in an earthly new moon worship context. Later Jewish and Christian writers borrowed the language of Isaiah to describe hell, but that is an interpretive leap. Similarly, the Serpent in Eden: the Torah itself never calls it Satan. It is portrayed as a clever animal – the curse on it is to crawl on its belly and eat dust, which makes sense for a snake, not for a fallen archangel. Identifying the Eden serpent with Satan was a later move (first clearly in intertestamental texts like Life of Adam and Eve and then the New Testament in Revelation 12:9). Early Jewish readers did not necessarily see Genesis 3 as proof of a devil – they saw it as a moral tale of human disobedience. In fact, some Jewish commentaries characterize the serpent as the embodiment of Adam and Eve’s own yetzer hara (evil inclination) or simply as an animal that was a vehicle for temptation, not a supernatural rebel. So while Christians and Muslims often do retroactively read Satan into Genesis (and other OT passages), that reading is not the plain meaning and was not the original understanding. It’s a case of eisegesis (reading later theology back into earlier texts). The absence of explicit scriptural identification (the text in Genesis never says “and that serpent was actually the Devil”) means we should be cautious in saying the “seeds were there”. From a historical standpoint, it is more accurate to say later believers planted those seeds in the text themselves by reinterpreting it. The development of doctrine is real: ancient Jews didn’t “secretly know” about Satan and hell but hide it; rather, these ideas grew over time. Therefore, the argument that Christianity and Islam merely uncovered what was implicit in Judaism is weak; what they did was transform a few ambiguous hints and metaphors into concrete, dogmatic realities that early Judaism simply did not possess in any explicit way.
Objection: “If early Judaism was ‘right’ about these concepts, does that mean Christianity and Islam are ‘wrong’? Are we simply saying the latter imported pagan/Zoroastrian ideas and therefore are illegitimate?”
Response: The purpose of this analysis is scholarly, not polemical. We are tracing how doctrines diverged; we are not making a theological judgment of ultimate “truth” in a religious sense. From a historical academic perspective, yes, many elements in Christian and Islamic theology can be traced to earlier cultural influences (which some might label ‘pagan’, though Zoroastrianism is monotheistic/duotheistic). This is not a value judgment but an observation of religious evolution. Importantly, Judaism itself in the post-exilic period incorporated some of those same ideas – so if one were to dismiss any Zoroastrian-influenced ideas as “illegitimate,” then even later Judaism’s notions of afterlife reward, punishment, or an eschatological Messiah would be on the chopping block. A more balanced view is that all religions develop in conversation with their environment. Christianity and Islam took shape in a world where notions of hell, heaven, and cosmic dualism were already disseminated (partly through Judaism’s own evolution). They each adapted those notions to their own theological frameworks – Christianity emphasizing redemption through Christ, Islam emphasizing absolute monotheism and submission. In doing so, however, they unquestionably departed from the tenor of the earliest Israelite religion. Whether that departure is seen as a corruption or a divine progression is a matter of one’s personal faith stance. From the perspective of Judaism (especially a classical or critical Jewish perspective), doctrines like the Trinity, vicarious atonement, an incarnate savior, or an eternally damned soul would be viewed as distortions of pure monotheism and divine justice. From the Christian or Islamic perspective, those doctrines are part of God’s true revelation and plan. This paper doesn’t adjudicate which faith is “correct,” but it does affirm that they are different in very fundamental ways, and that difference arose because Christianity and Islam charted a theological course that, while rooted in Judaic traditions, diverged to incorporate concepts that early Judaism either did not have or explicitly rejected.

Conclusion

In conclusion, Christianity and Islam, despite their reverence for the Hebrew patriarchs and scriptures, have significantly diverged from the foundations of early Judaism in doctrine and worldview. Our analysis has highlighted five key areas of this divergence:

The Afterlife and Hell: Early Judaism’s vision of the afterlife was centered on Sheol – a neutral, shadowy fate for all – and knew nothing of an eternal hell of torment. The later Jewish concept of Gehenna was temporary and purgative, underscoring God’s mercy, whereas Christianity and Islam cemented the idea of an everlasting hell of punishment for unbelievers or sinners. This marks a dramatic shift from a this-worldly, morally agnostic view of death in early Judaism to an other-worldly, moralistic view in the daughter religions.
Satan and the Problem of Evil: In the Jewish Bible, Satan is a minor figure – a loyal prosecutor under God’s command – and ultimate evil stems from human sin and God’s will (Isaiah 45:7). The later portrayal of Satan as a rebellious devil warring against God, which became axiomatic in Christianity/Islam, has no precedent in the core Jewish scriptures and runs counter to Judaism’s radical monotheism. It emerged under identifiable historical influences (Persian dualism) and represents a theological divergence wherein later faiths embraced a cosmic dualism that Judaism proper never did.
Salvation and the Personal Savior: Early Judaism did not teach that humans are born damned or that they require a personal savior to be saved from hell. Righteousness was attained through faith in God, obedience to His law, and repentance – a process open to every individual directly. The Christian doctrine that salvation comes only through Jesus Christ (and the Islamic emphasis on following the final Prophet to be saved from hellfire) introduced an exclusivist soteriology foreign to Judaism. Judaism’s Messianic hope was for national deliverance and global peace, not the atonement of original sin or rescue of souls from eternal perdition. Thus, the entire salvation schema of Christianity/Islam stands apart from and in tension with the Judaic theological ethos that “God’s loving-kindness depends on right conduct and extends to all humanity” without need of any intermediary.
Afterlife, Judgment, and Dualism (Zoroastrian impact): The historical record shows that many features now integral to Christian and Islamic theology – heaven and hell as rewards/punishments, a last judgment sorting the saved and damned, a cosmic struggle of good vs evil angels, even the very word “paradise” – entered Jewish thought during the Exile and Second Temple period, likely influenced by Zoroastrianism. Christianity and Islam adopted these concepts enthusiastically, to the point that they define their worldview; yet these concepts are additions when seen from the perspective of the Tanakh’s oldest layers. The early Israelite faith was not concerned with otherworldly cosmology or the end of days in the way later Western religions are. By incorporating these apocalyptic and dualistic ideas, Christianity and Islam departed from the simpler, more unified cosmology of their spiritual ancestor.
Mystical Unity vs. Eternal Hell: Finally, the Jewish mystical tradition reinforces how incompatible the notion of eternal hell or an autonomous evil force is with Judaism’s deepest understanding of God. In Kabbalah, Ein Sof is the ultimate reality, and everything – even what we experience as evil or hell – ultimately reintegrates into that Infinite unity. Hell is a veil, not a final destination. The Kabbalistic view, shared by many mainstream rabbis, is that God’s justice is tempered infinitely by mercy, and no soul is forever cast away. “Gehinnom will be consumed” in the radiance of divine light. This stands in stark contrast to the hard line of eternal damnation found in Christian and Muslim scripture. Such divergence shows that Judaism (especially in its classical and mystical theology) maintains a fundamentally different conception of God’s relationship to creation – one that does not accommodate the eternal bifurcation of humanity into saved vs damned. The state of separation from God that later religions deem permanent for some, Judaism views as a temporary condition or an illusion to be overcome.

In light of these differences, it is evident that while Christianity and Islam both sprang from the soil of Judaic tradition and honor the God of Abraham, they have cultivated theological doctrines that early Judaism would not recognize as its own. From the vantage of history and textual study, one can see a continuum: early Judaism provided the raw monotheistic foundation, Second Temple Judaism (under diverse influences) added new layers of eschatology and cosmology, and Christianity and Islam then built grand edifices of theology on those later layers, sometimes even amplifying them beyond what Judaism itself ever stated (for example, Judaism never fixated on hell to the extent that many Christian and Islamic teachings do). Each religion, of course, has its internal explanation for these developments – whether it be progressive revelation, completion of the law, or restoration of original faith. Yet the divergences are undeniable.

By understanding these divergences, we gain a clearer appreciation for the unique identity of each Abrahamic faith. Judaism’s original vision was of one God, one people, one world, and a moral life here on earth, with less emphasis on the afterlife or cosmic evil. Christianity turned more of its gaze to heaven and hell, salvation through Christ, and the spiritual battle with Satan, marking a shift to an otherworldly orientation. Islam emphasized strict monotheism and divine judgment, reasserting some of Judaism’s ethical monotheism but also incorporating the developed doctrines of hellfire and an evil tempter, in line with the milieu of late antiquity. Each trajectory addressed different spiritual needs and questions: the problem of evil, the hope for justice, the craving for eternal life, the means of atonement. In doing so, however, they traveled far from the early Israelite mindset.

For theologians and believers, recognizing this historical divergence does not necessarily diminish one’s faith; rather, it can encourage a more nuanced and humble understanding of how God’s relationship with humanity has been conceived in various ways over time. For Jewish thought, it reaffirms the primacy of God’s oneness and mercy over any concept of external evil or eternal damnation. For Christians and Muslims, it can illuminate which of their doctrines are rooted in biblical Judaism and which stem from later philosophical or spiritual developments. Ultimately, the journey of these religions illustrates how core spiritual ideas – reward and punishment, good and evil, the need for redemption – have been expressed through different narratives. Christianity and Islam did diverge from early Judaism’s foundations, but in doing so, they carried forward and transformed profound themes that have, in their own way, given hope and meaning to billions of people.

Sources:

The Torah, Prophets, and Writings (Tanakh) – e.g., Genesis, Isaiah, Job, Daniel (various citations as noted in text).
Talmud Bavli, e.g. Rosh Hashanah 17a, Sanhedrin 110b (on Gehenna’s duration and the world to come).
Midrashim and Commentaries – e.g., Bereishit Rabbah (on the serpent as yetzer hara), Pirkei Avot (God’s justice and mercy).
Encyclopedia Judaica – entries on “Angels and Demons,” “Eschatology,” “Satan,” summarizing Jewish views (see quote ).
Zohar (13th c.) – esp. Zohar Vol. II, 206b-207a (on Paradise and Gehenna, the right and left of God).
TheTorah.com – “No Heaven or Hell, Only She’ol” by Prof. Meghan Henning (2021) – discusses development of afterlife concepts.
MyJewishLearning – “Heaven and Hell in Jewish Tradition” by Rabbi Or N. Rose – overview of biblical and rabbinic afterlife ideas.
Jews for Judaism – various articles (e.g., “The Jewish View of Satan”, “Do Jews believe in original sin?”, “Belief in Heaven is Fundamental”) – contemporary Jewish perspectives contrasting with Christian claims.
HowStuffWorks – “Before Christianity… There Was Zoroastrianism” (2019) – remarks by J. Peschl on Zoroastrian influence.
OLLI Lecture: “Zoroastrianism, Judaism, and Christianity” (GMU, n.d.) – notes on post-exilic changes in Jewish thought.
Bart Ehrman Blog – “Was Resurrection a Zoroastrian Idea?” (2019) – discusses timing of Jewish resurrection doctrine and Persian influence, including comment on 12-month hell limit.
Milton and the Zohar (U. of Cape Town thesis) – for insights on Kabbalah’s view of hell as internal (cited conceptually in text).

These sources, alongside the primary texts, substantiate the claims made in this study. They collectively portray a consistent picture: the fundamental tenets of eternal damnation, a personified principle of evil, and vicarious salvation are largely absent from early Jewish theology and became prominent only through later development – developments that Christianity and Islam took up as defining revelations. From the perspective of early Judaism and its later mystical wisdom, such concepts can even be seen as misunderstandings of the true nature of God and the soul – useful perhaps for ethical motivation or spiritual drama, but ultimately reconciled by the deeper truth of Divine oneness and compassion.

In the end, appreciating how Christianity and Islam diverged from Judaism’s early beliefs is not merely an academic exercise; it sheds light on how each faith understands God’s justice and mercy. Judaism’s legacy is a vision of a God whose unity precludes eternal dualisms, whose justice is tempered by mercy to the point that no soul is beyond redemption, and whose demand is that we walk with Him in this life, doing justice and loving kindness (Micah 6:8), rather than fixating on the terrors of the next world. Christianity and Islam, each in their own way, took those seeds and grew very different trees. Understanding those differences can foster better interfaith respect and help each tradition return to the core values it shares with the others – the ethical monotheism of the patriarch Abraham – even as they honestly acknowledge the distinct paths their theologies have taken through history.

Ohr Ein Sof - The Infinite Light

Saturday, May 17, 2025