https://eltenenbaum.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/08/Make-G-d-Mainstream-Again.mp3 MAKE G-D MAINSTREAM AGAIN The surgical removal of G-d from society must be undone with deliberate, persistent reintegration. As the academic year shifted to summer, focus on books in libraries and curriculums likewise shifted to summer reading lists. As an author, I’ve taken up some summer reading of my own, mainly used, bargain-priced books published over a decade ago. From the markings, many are former library books, since replaced with some of the books many parents are concerned about today. Without rehashing what’s been spoken of many times before—though also not quite thoroughly enough—in regard to current books for young readers, I’ve noticed something about some of these summer reads beyond the more obvious choices of subject matter and protagonists. While many of the changes in children, teen, even adult, literature is quite clear from covers and blurbs, subtler changes were also implemented in the same time frame, ones less easily charted than bestselling genres, fads, and the like. I’ve written before about the prevailing lack of historical fiction for young readers, and perusals of the options on hand for my summer reading has only further confirmed its current, glaring absence. There’s something else, however, something connected yet even more important that should not be overlooked. It’s something that probably doesn’t appear in studies or graphs or sales numbers, but detected only by those who look for it. Namely, and perhaps unsurprisingly, the removal of G-d from books for young readers, and adults too. If you’re an avid reader, you may have noticed this, but only now realize how prevalent the practice truly is. Alternatively, this assertion may seem baseless, as numerous books among the highly popular fantasy genre, for example, mention religion plenty. Except, look again. More often than not these books speak of gods not G-d. Where there is monotheistic religion, it’s often portrayed as corrupt or at odds with the celebrated science or magic of the day. It’s backward, antithetical to progress and change, too politically powerful, home to a secret society of assassins, and many other things which don’t include honest, faithful service. So, while there may be religion in books, how is it really portrayed? While that aspect of world building isn’t difficult to notice, what it used to be only recently struck so potently because the mention of prayer to a single G-d appeared in a book that wasn’t purely historical, where such reference could be relegated to accuracy as compared to modern cultural norms. The book for teens was fantasy, had dragons, yet the jailed, despondent protagonist kneeled in the dirt and prayed to G-d. Significantly, the book was from a major publisher, not a specifically religious one. To say, there was a time when mention of G-d in a mainstream narrative was commonplace, because it reflected a time when readers lived in a society where adherence to Him was commonplace too. An editor once asked after my adamance to include a clear monotheistic belief in one of my fantasy series. The books didn’t focus on any particular religion, but were particular to mention Heaven as a Divine reference. Bear in mind, the question was from one practicing Jew to another, so there was no anti-religious sentiment at its base. I think the question was both warning and curiosity. Warning that perhaps the inclusion was moving from present to preachy, and curiosity about why monotheistic Divinity needed to be so specifically noted, particularly in a fantasy realm. The answer is a very simple and profound truth, because even in fantasy, there is no world without G-d. This adamant assertion was unintentionally tested when I sat down to write a book that was largely historical fiction, albeit with a touch of fantasy. The book is set in ancient Egypt, a land of many, many gods, so a protagonist with pagan belief’s wouldn’t just be expected but also historically accurate. Except, I couldn’t do it. No sooner had I begun to research the Egyptian pantheon, then I knew there was no way my fictional character living in a fictionalized historical setting would pay any sort of obeisance to this plethora of deities. Because, endeavoring to make belief in G-d real down to the bones means that even in fiction, there is no world without G-d. A number of religious authors write fiction for mainstream publishers. Some can be noticed for their cleaner books, and some are noticed for Who they choose to thank in their acknowledgements. Academically curious, I once asked one of the latter about the religion she’d crafted in her fantasy series, about the many gods in her made-up world in relation to the single One she believes is in the real one. Her answer was a bit disjointed, and it was undoubtedly because she’d never been asked that before. Characters, plot, vision for her series, but not religious portrayal. Who ever cared to notice the dichotomy between the two? And why should she not craft a world of many gods when that’s become dominant in mainstream books over the past decade, at least. On the other hand, another writer told me her memoir was rejected by a major publisher, specifically in part because she reasserted faith in G-d despite her incredibly tragic circumstances. That’s not to say there aren’t any books from major mainstream publishers that don’t include monotheistic religion. The difference, of course, is that many books which speak of G-d aren’t usually a seamless blend of belief woven through the narrative but most often a conflict with or rejection of such beliefs. A character who wrestles between faith and personal desire is not only realistic but highly relatable too. This sort of character can easily propel a narrative featuring intriguing internal religious struggles. But only when the character recognizes that G-d is truth and goodness, and life is a journey to such truth. Not when society has dictated that G-d must be nipped and tucked to validate current trends, wherein infinite G-d becomes a manmade god, even gods. The scalpular removal of G-d isn’t relegated to literature, only one pillar of culture, of course, but noticeable in all aspects of society. Beyond the fights over the Ten Commandments in schools and religious commencement addresses, the demonization of religion has been so effective that any modern, grounded, “logically-minded”, “rational” individual wouldn’t dare admit to religions adherence for fear of undermining the foundation he claims to stand upon. Rather, people who will admit to higher beliefs tend to be “spiritual” and aren’t pressed to explain what on earth such a euphemism means. The braver among them will admit to believing in G-d without follow up as to what such belief mandates. Are there no actions, morals, or values that must result from such belief? Is proclamation enough without behavior to match? The dirty truth about sole reliance on most exalted human rationale at the helm of society is that almost anything can be rationalized, the smarter the more adept at intellectual treatises for all sorts of deviances. Faith in omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent G-d is the only guide for superseding the risks and vagaries of human intellect, as only G-d is a consistently reliable guardrail for every level of society. For it’s not law and order which make societies safe, but law and order founded in fear of G-d which succeeds. It’s not kindness that unifies societies, but kindness founded in love of G-d directing human interaction. Communities of truly G-d fearing individuals are safer not for better policing, but for better adherence to Divine morality. Consider Apollo 8’s message beamed backed to earth when approaching the lunar sunrise, how the astronauts chose at such an awesome moment to quote from Genesis the verses of G-d’s creation of the world. Compared to all the hullabaloo of late regarding government and private space flights, can you imagine one of the recent astronauts or space tourists reciting scripture in breathless exhilaration of what incredible sights they’ve seen? Can you imagine any non-avowed religious individual invoking almighty G-d for just about anything? Now, truly religious individuals stand out in society not for their faith, but for their scarcity. There was a time when proclamations of faith was not just a political ploy, but a norm. When Moses stood before Pharaoh in Egypt, he didn’t only say, “Let My people go.” The famous line is accurate, but only part of the sentence. More correct is, “Let My people go, so they may serve Me.” We bring G-d back into society not with laws and public mandates, but in knowing how the sentence starts and how the sentence ends, for only then can we have a true foundation and direction for living. We bring G-d back into society when each individual decides to make it so in his own life and interactions. Include G-d in regular conversation with verbal appreciation and notice of His guiding hand. Invite G-d back to the table with blessings and grace. Return G-d to political discourse with unambiguous reminders that rights can never be discussed without mention of capital C, Creator. And even if you claim not to care about religion and almighty G-d, send your children for religious instruction anyway, so they’ll know there’s only one true foundation for a civilized society of accomplished, achieving men. Tremble as you will at the thought, but there are worse things your child could be called, by much better people at that, than “religious.” If you trust the intellect and logic you’ve inculcated within your child, then trust them to embrace G-d too, even if you are still working at it. We’ve seen in ways subtle and obvious how the world turns when people reject traveling the path set by Him. And if yo
