“The secret things belong to the LORD our God,
but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever,
that we may do all the words of this law” (Deut. 29:29 ESV).
In the 1999 dystopian movie The Matrix, Keanu Reeves’ character is offered two pills: a blue one that will bring back the comfortable world he’s always known, or a red pill that will open his eyes to the reality that his life is actually an illusion crafted by a malicious cyber-power. His decision to learn the truth is what coined the now-popular descriptor for those who’ve learned the inconvenient truth about everything from politics to coronavirus to Big Pharma: they’ve been “red-pilled.”
As someone who is on the crunchier end of the spectrum, I’ve been red-pilled about a few things myself. But I’ve come to recognize that there’s a difference between seeking the truth in order to make a wise decision, and the fleshly desire to have inside information for its own sake.
Proverbs 26:22 speaks to the delight we feel when we learn information not everyone is privy to:
“The words of a whisperer are like delicious morsels; they go down into the inner parts of the body.”
Secret knowledge is alluring, especially in our divisive climate where everything is polarized. You’re categorized by whether you know the “truth” about a particular topic, and in many circles, you are considered an uninformed “sheep” if you believe the mainstream narrative about anything.
There are pro-vaxxers versus vaccine skeptics.
Red versus blue.
Maskers versus non-maskers. Vegans versus meat eaters. We all think we know something the other side doesn’t. We love to categorize ourselves and others–and there’s someone who loves our division even more than we do. His name is Satan, and he is our real enemy, not the people on the other side of whatever hill we’re dying on. Distraction and division are two of his best tactics, and the last thing he wants is a unified body of believers working together to preach the gospel, love one another, and glorify God. If we aren’t careful, conspiracy can become an effective tool in his hands to thwart the work of Christ in the world.
Exercising Discernment with Controversial Topics
At one extreme are people who think everything has a hidden agenda and nothing is what it seems. At the other extreme are those who label anyone with honest questions as conspiracy theorists or ignorant fools.
Researching and thinking critically in order to make a wise decision for yourself or your family does not make you a conspiracy theorist—it makes you discerning. But we can’t ignore that we are living in an age where silly conspiracy theories abound, along with dozens of ways to spread them. If James wrote that the tongue is a dangerous fire (James 3:6), imagine what he would have said about the internet.
There are three cautions we should consider when it comes to conspiracy theories:
Studying conspiracy theories can be a distraction from our actual purpose.
Entertaining conspiracy theories and discussing them with friends can be fun, but we don’t need to take it upon ourselves to crack every unsolved mystery. First Thessalonians 4:11 says, “[M]ake it your ambition to lead a quiet life [and] mind your own business” (NIV). We must be about the work God has given us to do.
It is not my job to figure out if Elvis Presley is still alive.
Or if the Illuminati is trying to usher in a New World Order, or the military is hiding UFO remains at Area 51. It is not my job to identify, arrest, or convict Lee Harvey Oswald’s accomplice or Charlie Kirk’s true killer. It is my job to love my husband, homeschool my kids, cook dinner, bathe my toddler, study the Bible, do good work for my employer, pray, clean my house, love my neighbors, and serve in my church. (By the way, it is also my job to decide whether vaccines and Tylenol are safe and beneficial for my kids and which political candidates align most closely with biblical values.)
There are only so many hours in a day, and we will give an account to God of how we choose to spend them (2 Cor. 5:10). I picture myself standing at the judgment seat of Christ as a movie reel plays scenes from my life on a screen behind Jesus. There’s my toddler with his soft, chubby cheeks, clutching Curious George books in his dimpled hands as he climbs into my lap. There’s my lanky, brown-eyed teenager in his baseball cap, trying to start a conversation in the kitchen as I season the tacos. There’s my 11-year-old son in his Chiefs jersey, asking for help with fractions. There’s my curly-haired daughter with her impossibly long eyelashes, practicing her Bible memory verse in her squeaky voice. There’s my handsome husband with his strong arms and red beard, wanting to catch up after a long day apart. There are my neighbors who don’t know Jesus, watering their grass with their kids and dogs trailing behind them. There’s my Bible on my nightstand and my shelf full of books, waiting for me to open them and learn more of God and the world he made. And there I am with my neck bent forward, staring numbly into my phone in the midst of it all.
I need these scenes to replay over and over in my mind. I need a sober sense of how fleeting my life is so I can spend it on what matters for eternity. I need to ask God to help me number my days so I can gain a heart of wisdom (Psalm 90:2) in a world full of foolish distractions. Our time is finite, and there are some things that simply aren’t worthy of it.
When we’re thirsting for knowledge, it’s wise to ask ourselves, “Why do I need to know this? What am I going to do with this information? Is this useful for me to know?” It is good to be accurately informed so we make good decisions and vote wisely; it is unnecessary for us to try to do the FBI’s job for them (yes, even if the government is lying to us).
Deuteronomy 29:29 reminds us that God has revealed to us through his Word what he wants us to do (“all the words of [his] law”). We need to be busy doing those things—obeying him—instead of speculating about things that we have no control over and no business getting involved in.
If our search for the truth about “secret things” has us glued to the internet while our kids are tugging at our legs with growling stomachs, our work is left undone, our dirty dishes are piled in the sink, our Bibles are lying unopened, or our husbands are ignored, our quest for “truth” is misguided.
Promoting conspiracy theories can slander others and sow division.
Among the seven things the Lord hates are “[a] false witness who breathes out lies, and one who sows discord among brothers” (Prov. 6:19). Do we take seriously the risk of saying something that God outright says he hates? Speculation is one thing, but speaking about a situation as fact when it has not yet been proven can cause a great deal of trouble, not to mention unnecessary division. In many cases it’s best to err on the side of silence.
Days after Charlie Kirk was killed, footage began circulating on X of a man in a white shirt and hat standing behind Charlie just before the shooting. The video caption insinuated that the man was a co-conspirator in the assassination—that when he touched the bill of his cap he was signaling to the sniper. Unbeknownst to the rumor mill, the man in white was none other than Frank Turek, Charlie Kirk’s friend and spiritual mentor. Imagine how Frank felt when that video clip went viral. Now, deep in grief after witnessing his friend’s brutal murder, Frank had to face the horrific accusation that he was an accomplice in his friend’s death. The rumor’s originator is at fault, but so are the millions who shared it blindly, knowing nothing about the situation.
There’s a reason God made it abundantly clear to the Israelites that no one could be convicted of a crime without the testimony of at least two witnesses (Deut. 17:6, 19:15). It is very important to God that people’s reputations are not harmed by false accusations. In the age of the internet, when an accusation can become not only public but viral within minutes, the danger of defaming others’ character is even graver. What we say cannot be unsaid, especially when we say it publicly online.
We know God calls us to put away slander (Eph. 4:31, Col. 3:8), but we justify it in certain situations, repeating rumors about public figures that we’d feel guilty saying about someone we know personally. Maybe we think that if the person we’re accusing is famous, or we’re accusing them from behind a screen, the Bible doesn’t apply. I’ve come upon groups of Christians discussing all kinds of wild theories about world events and public figures, speaking with absolute confidence without any actual evidence. The ability to rattle off a conspiracy theory is like a party trick in some circles. Let’s not forget that when we talk about people, no matter how far removed from us they are, they are still real humans who bear God’s image. The same rules apply.
Preaching conspiracy theories can hinder our witness.
The Great Commission that Jesus gave us was not “Go, therefore, and expose the truth about everything the government and media have told thee.” It is “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations” (Matt. 28:29). We must always consider whether the things we say will help or hinder us in our disciple-making endeavor. In many circles, Christianity has come to be associated with gullibility and conspiracy. We need to counter that perception, not enhance it.
You may believe with all your heart that the earth is flat, but most people who hear you make that claim will diagnose you with insanity—or at least poor judgment. You will lose the credibility you will need for future conversations about eternal things.
At the very least, we should be wise about how we state our opinions and theories. There’s a difference between looking up at the airplane contrails in the sky and yelling, “CHEMTRAILS! The government wants us dead!” and mentioning to your friend, “It seems like there are a lot more of those contrails these days. I wonder if those planes could be spraying harmful chemicals.” Couching our not-fully-proven theories with “I’ve read that . . .” or “I wonder if . . .” allows us to discuss fringe ideas without coming across as conspiracy theorists who think everyone is out to get us. Many of the theories we’re so entrenched in these days don’t have enough solid evidence to be stated as fact. When we make such claims, we need to be clear that they are merely theories we’re kicking around, not facts we’re promoting as certainties.
A Few Caveats
Rejecting conspiracy culture does not mean automatically rejecting any views that challenge the mainstream. Many theories we accept as fact today were thought preposterous when they were first introduced. When Galileo started promoting Copernicus’ theory that the earth revolves around the sun, he was considered a heretic. When a 19th-century Hungarian doctor claimed that hand-washing before delivering babies would reduce maternal mortality, he was institutionalized and beaten for his outlandish theory. Ideas that challenge the status quo can change the world for the better.
Between the two extremes of calling every honest question a conspiracy and spreading falsehood unchecked is the middle road: open-mindedness, respectful discussion, fact-checking, prayerfulness, and a healthy focus on the kingdom of God. No matter where we each land on either side of a given issue, let’s commit to engaging with each other (and the world) in a balanced way and prioritizing what matters for eternity.
