Spoiler Alert of the best kind.

Sylvia Jeronimo
Jul 23
3 min read

You know the story but not like this.

I first encountered Eric Miller's work when he generously offered to send me his book. From the moment I began reading, I was not only captivated by the compelling narrative but also deeply impressed by his exquisite prose, masterful use of language, and the profound depth of his research. This experience compelled me to seek a meeting with Eric, eager to delve into the heart and mind of the author behind such a remarkable creation. This review is a reflection of the insights gleaned from our enriching conversation.

No Sympathy for the Devil: Where darkness finds no absolution

No Sympathy for the Devil by Eric Miller

Eric Miller’s No Sympathy for the Devil is a daring, unsettling, and utterly fascinating retelling of the Gospels—from the viewpoint of Satan himself. If that sounds dangerous, it’s because it is—but in the best way. This book invites readers to explore familiar stories from a completely unfamiliar angle, turning theological assumptions inside out to reveal something raw and surprisingly illuminating.

Judas as the First Disciple?

Miller begins with a striking twist: Judas was the first to be chosen. From that moment on, nothing in this narrative follows the expected path. Judas isn’t swayed by miracles—he’s drawn to what he sees as blasphemy, because it smells like power. It’s a bold take that re-centers betrayal as a perversion of devotion rather than a mere act of greed.

The Role of the Nephilim & Satan’s Memory

Miller weaves in the Nephilim and ancient rebellion not just as backstory but as part of Satan’s long-held resentment against humanity. He sees God's love for weak, fallible humans as a cosmic injustice—and it's this jealousy that simmers behind every scene. It’s not just that Satan opposes God; it’s that he resents Him for loving what Satan cannot understand.

Satan’s Misunderstandings

One of the most compelling themes is how Satan misreads Jesus. He assumes Jesus doesn’t understand the world or the nature of men—and that’s his downfall. He can read minds, even memories, yet has to ask the Magi for basic information. This gap between perception and wisdom adds a chilling layer to the narrative.

Sin, Resentment, and Ownership

Miller introduces a profound idea: that through sin—or more precisely, resentment—Satan can lay claim to all of mankind. It’s not just sin in the moral sense, but the soul-deep disappointment in God that leaves people vulnerable. In this light, even devout believers are not safe, which makes this Satan not just an enemy, but a mirror.

The Tension of Forgiveness

Surprisingly, Satan isn’t threatened by healing or miracles—those are within the boundaries he understands. What terrifies him is forgiveness. “To forgive… without law, without water, was to take those who are rightfully mine away from me,” he says. That line alone could preach for a year.

Simon and Judas: First and Last

The book sets up Simon Peter and Judas as symbolic bookends—one will fall by love, the other by enmity. Peter, described as boorish, fearful, and uneducated, seems like the worst choice for the future of the church. Yet that's precisely the point. Grace doesn’t follow résumé logic.

Jesus: The Angel of the Lord or the Son of God?

Throughout, Jesus is called “the Angel of the Lord,” until the crucifixion scene—when the language shifts. Suddenly, we hear of the Father watching His Son die. This is a powerful theological pivot that personalizes the pain of the Passion in a way few books dare to attempt.

Jesus’s Strategy & Satan’s Surveillance

Miller portrays Jesus as careful in Jerusalem—something Satan notices. He stalks Jesus and his disciples town to town, always watching, always interpreting. And often misinterpreting. This is theology through the lens of espionage—and it works.

The Final Glance: “It Is Finished”

When Jesus finally utters “It is finished,” Miller imagines him looking directly at Satan. That visual is haunting. It reframes the moment not just as a declaration to heaven, but as a direct confrontation with hell. It’s subtle, but it lingers. You’ll never hear those words the same way again.

What’s Miller Really Doing Here?

He’s not trying to make Satan sympathetic—but understandable. He wants us to see how the enemy thinks, where he lurks, and how resentment, not just rebellion, opens the door to darkness. At the same time, Miller wants readers to see Jesus’s mercy as scandalous, subversive, and unstoppable.

This is not a comfortable read. But it’s a necessary one—especially for those who think they’ve seen the gospel from every angle. Think again.