The Satanic Temple doesn't have "holy books" as such. There is no actual Satan, so he hasn't written anything. (If you're wondering about The Satanic Bible or Satan Speaks!, by Anton LaVey, that's Church of Satan. They're not us.) But TST venerates the Satan myth as set forth in works of Romantic Satanism, and Paradise Lost is definitely one of the forerunners.
It's worth noting that Paradise Lost doesn't present itself as a Satanic text. Satan is routinely portrayed as willfully evil and castigated for his rebellion. However, Satan is assuredly the book's primary and most complex character. While Adam and Eve get plenty of "screen time" and go through at least one notable personal transition later in the work, Satan is the one whose struggles we have the best view of through the work. He's more of an anti-hero than a hero... yet one can't help noticing he's not the faceless villain you'd have expected.
It's been an interesting read. Satan is nuanced, conflicted, and even humorous. It's no surprise that I identify with him, given the religious viewpoint I brought into the book. But I was struck by one particular passage that really mirrors the feelings I have in church.
Sometimes towards Eden, which now in his view
Lay pleasant, his grieved look he fixes sad;
Sometimes towards Heaven, and the full-blazing sun,
Which now sat high in his meridian tower:
Then, much revolving, thus in sighs began.
O thou, that, with surpassing glory crowned,
Lookest from thy sole dominion like the God
Of this new world; at whose sight all the stars
Hide their diminished heads; to thee I call,
But with no friendly voice, and add thy name,
Of Sun! to tell thee how I hate thy beams,
That bring to my remembrance from what state
I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere;
Satan is flying above Eden, admiring its beauty among that of the Earth and Sun, and saying he hates it because it reminds him how much he misses Heaven. He was one of the highest angels, it was a life of ease – merely to praise God – and he bemoans what he's lost.
But say I could repent, and could obtain,
By act of grace, my former state; how soon
Would highth recall high thoughts, how soon unsay
What feigned submission swore? Ease would recant
Vows made in pain, as violent and void.
For never can true reconcilement grow,
Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:
Which would but lead me to a worse relapse
And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear
Short intermission bought with double smart.
But Satan knows himself. Returned to an exalted life, he would soon begrudge God's assertion of superiority. Restored to ease, he would no longer stand behind what in desperation he said to end the torment of Hell. Having seen God's ugly and vindictive side, he would never be able to praise him with honesty. The rebellion would happen all over again, for the same reasons, if he were to return to his previous position. Thus, his restoration would be only a break ("short intermission") at the price of going through all the trauma a second time ("double smart").
Particularly at the times of the most pageantry, the most wonderful music, the most comforting liturgy, I wish I could believe again. It would be comforting to believe that there were a God, that He loved me, that He had a divine plan that explains all the horror and trauma of the world. And at those moments, I know it would be so easy to let go and slide back into the superstitions that I was raised with.
But nothing has actually changed. All the reasons I stopped believing are still true. The evidence is not there, and I'm a skeptic. I don't believe in embracing a supernatural explanation for things that clearly have reasonable natural explanations. "God in the gaps" doesn't work for me, particularly when those gaps are shrinking with every new discovery we make about the universe.
If I started believing again, I would also inevitably deconvert again. So I don't, even at those moments when I wish I could.
Some people give into this at the moment of death, I'm sure. The trope of a death-bed conversion exists because they happen. But what I've also seen are death-bed projections. People who claim a loved one came (back) to faith at the end, now that the deceased atheist isn't there to gainsay them. We saw an example in the movie Someone Like You, when the non-believing character London dies; her best friend tells her parents that she had a change of heart as she lay dying on the pavement. Bullshit – she gasped on the pavement and made unintelligible noises.
This happened to a relative of my wife's, a man who didn't believe. His daughter's pastor, who did the funeral, visited him in hospice. According to the pastor, he continued to disclaim faith... "...but I knew, in his heart, he believed." The corpse at the pastor's feet wasn't in any position to disagree.
Such lies may comfort the family who think their child or parent is otherwise bound for the fires of Hell. (The movie The Invention of Lying comes to mind.)
But what disrespect to the deceased! I do not plan to re-convert; if I ever do, I'll say so. I forbid anyone to claim I did when I'm not there to validate it. I speak for myself, and if I'm gone, then I'm done speaking. Leave me in peace!
Hail Satan! Amen.