Tuesday, August 18, 2020

Fake News and the Man Who Is Truth

Theologian Miroslav Volf recently tweeted this: 


“We are drowning in fake news, and complain about it. But it’s ubiquitous partly because we actually crave it. We fear truth about the world and replace it with fantasy, just as we fear truth about our own hearts and flood ourselves with a steady stream of our intimate ‘fake news.’”


As I read Volf’s tweet, I was reminded of a viral tweet thread from a year or so ago by a philosopher named Nick Hinton that suggested that in 2012, the world entered into an alternate dimension or universe. Hinton's proposition would explain why so many of us look back and wonder what happened to the “normal” world we thought knew before 2012. Surely it isn’t that the world was perfect before, but it was manageable and things just felt different than they do now. It seems like something happened then, and there is no explanation. This theory would also explain the so-called Mandela Effect, where people my age remember certain things from childhood the same way that others do, but can’t find evidence of those things being how we remember them. One example, among many: Many thought the beloved bear family's name from the children's series was spelled Berenstein Bears, but it was actually Berenstain Bears.


When I first read of the alternate universe theory, my initial thought was about how we are masters at creating theories to explain the unexplainable and elusive world around. And as Volf said, we crave when others offer theories, whether plausible or implausible. I wonder if it is the case that people crave theories like this so that they can avoid true reality. 


When the Apostle John called Jesus the “logos” (read: logic, reason, order) of God (Jn. 1:1-2), he was saying that Jesus is Himself reality. To come to him for the grace and truth that He offers (1:14,17) requires recognizing the need for grace (that we need saved) and for truth (that we’re confused and need him to reorient us to reality as He alone can define it.) Given that since the Fall humanity has been, as it were, hiding behind the bushes and running from God (see Psalm 2:1-3, 53:1-3; Is. 53:6), we do all that we can to avoid taking God’s diagnoses, instead accepting conspiracy theories and fake news. And not only do we accept them; we crave them. We need them to stay in our little partial-truth realities which we’ve constructed to feel safe and righteous.


And the sad thing is this: You can read this and say, “Yes, that’s me; I’ve avoided him,” but if you then say, “But I want to come to Jesus now,” He’ll not only receive you, but will throw a party for you (Lk. 15:6, 9, 22-24). He’d be so happy to bring you home where you belong. Further, you could say, “No, I don’t care, fake news is better,” and if you have a change of heart five years from now, he'd still be ready. Though I'd caution you to be careful, because if you put it off until then, you might find yourself stuck and unable to find Him. (Our hearts change as we make choices, usually unbeknownst to us.)


Why in the world would I say his willingness to receive you is sad? Because although this grace is so incredible, so free, and so freeing, we'd rather live off a diet of fake news and conspiracy theories. The sadness isn’t his willingness to give life, but our unwillingness to question ourselves long enough to consider whether or not He can. And we don’t realize what our addiction to autonomy and therefore fake news and conspiracies is doing to us.


But if you’re ready for reality, He is ready to give it to you. And it doesn’t matter how long you’ve avoided Him; come to Him now. It might seem like there is cultural, sociological, and personal baggage associated with becoming a Christian these days. But there's baggage and prejudice with whatever way you choose to live. I’m suggesting that you consider leaving your half reality and come into Truth, whose name is Jesus. He’ll change your life, answer your questions, and take care of your baggage. He promises rest to the weary and peace to the war-torn. Is that you?