...writing in the New Statesman that he'd changed his mind about Christianity
and how innovative the idea of "a god that suffers" was, and that he was therefore more culturally Christian, not Classical... I think it remains odious and dangerous conceptually. Deities are fictional characters like any others (only god-botherers tend to be in denial about their fandoms' fictionality): they are created to embody and reinforce cultural values. Monotheism is inherently authoritarian/autocratic: autocracy projected on to a cosmic scale. Text-fetishism doesn't help. A "god that suffers" is as much use as a chocolate teapot (of the orbiting Russellian variety, no doubt). The fixation Christianity has with "suffering" and "victimhood" has fed a culture of sadomasochism. Poverty should be regarded as a social evil to be fought, not a badge of virtue to be embraced; victimhood should be resisted, not wallowed in. And as for its impact on sexuality... Meanwhile, I'm currently having to grit my teeth at colleagues whose discourse on food/diet has imported the vocabulary of "sins" into eating, which does not strike me as psychologically or physically healthy.
One of the strengths of the Classical traditions was the freedom to rewrite and reinterpret the myths. The Greek dramatists were more like fanfic writers in their approach to the material. You can choose between versions of stories: whether Iphigenia dies or doesn't, for example. It isn't "heresy" to prefer one version over another; no-one will kill you over it. Similarly, one can recast the meaning of myths, re-interpret them on a personal or social level (Julian does this in some of his writings), in a way that is limited in the text-obsessed mono-god traditions.
Fandom is, I think, a natural successor to this approach and frankly a lot healthier. It retains an awareness that the stories and characters you use to make sense of the world are fictional; that you have control over them, not vice versa; that you can re-shape and re-make their stories in ways that are meaningful to you; that canon is as flexible as you want it to be; that you do not have to accept what other people have made of it, and can construct counter-narratives. It is genuinely (to use an oft over- and misused word) empowering. For me, it is usually about getting characters I love out of suffering, out of victimhood.
Tom may now have decided that (pace Swinburne) the world did not "turn grey with their breath", but that is not the experience of many of us. And as I've remarked previously re: The Traveller's Guide to Classical Philosophy and about Julian, the key point is that we now can choose to live as if they did not win. We can choose not to accept their narrative, but tell our stories in our own way. They struck the blow; they made the Waste Land. But we can reject victimhood and make it bloom.