As far as the symbolisms I use, when imaginatively interpreting Islam as Satanic in occasional essays here, drawn from the Judaeo-Christian mythologoumena and their relation to belief, I'm thankful to the philosopher Eric Voegelin (whom quite a few Christians considered to be "not a Christian") for helping me, years ago, see that the general issue of religious symbolisms is not so neatly cut-and-dried; and that Heraclitus, Socrates, Plato and Aristotle (just to pick a few of the more known from among hundreds one could adduce) shared the same belief about the mysterious (yet luminous) meaning of life and humanity as do Jews and Christians.
This includes a sensibility more insouciantly forgiving of religious symbolisms, and consequently less phobic about their needless hypostatization into literalism (Voegelin coined the term hypostatization to denote what Alfred Whitehead, in a somewhat different context, referred to with his phrase "misplaced concreteness"). One doesn't want to push this too far, however, in the sense of a glibly promiscuous Joseph-Campbellesque cafeteria of religions sort of way; but on the other hand, the lines drawn by the dogmatists of the end of Christendom, anxiously erected in order to stave off tremors and premonitions of precisely that type of promiscuity which leads further to nihilistic skepticism (or its worse cousin, the legless skeptic who claims he's "not nihilistic") while understandable, given what they were up against, are no more tenable than relativism.
The modern era seems mostly dominated by two mirror-image camps: the Dogmatists, who are afraid of agnosticism because they think that only Certitude can save them from the mystery of life; and the Modernists, who are afraid of faith because they think it commits them too much to certitude. Both are champions and defenders of flawed half-truths.