As evangelicals, we’re still trying to assess and find our footing after the cultural upheaval, COVID lockdowns, widespread political violence, and contested elections that took place starting with the polarizing election of Donald Trump in 2016. In one 2023 response, editors Michael W. Austin and Gregory L. Bock commandeered a couple dozen evangelical academics to exhort people in the pews to steer clear of conspiracy theories and dissenting opinions. Some of them are old friends and professors from my own graduate education, with whom I enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many excellent philosophy courses at Biola University. Nevertheless, apart from a lot of unobjectionable and commendable epistemological advice, Qanon, Chaos, and the Cross (QCC) somehow manages to learn and teach exactly the wrong lesson from these tumultuous years. Captive to a technocratic, institutional, and partisan mindset, the book discourages average Christians from “doing their own research” and questioning government sanctioned experts. As one who witnessed these events and unadvisedly did just that, I protest. This recent history cries out not for less but more critically engaged citizens who will question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with the spirit of our democratic republic; by the people for the people. Average Christians especially should be emboldened to respectfully question authority and disarm the powers and principalities set against the citizen, and against the cross. This is no time to acquiesce.

In early 2023 when QCC was advertised as forthcoming, I wondered which conspiracies would remain unfounded until publication. At the time, dissenters from government proclamations and policies were gloating on social media about all the supposedly tin-foil conspiracy theories that had been validated by subsequent events. For example, in 2020 the public had been reassured ad nauseam by mainstream sources that Critical Race Theory and Ibrahim Kendi-style “anti-racism” were not being taught in schools, but citizen reporters on social media belied their assurances with countless videos and screenshots of classroom instruction and curriculum. At Disney, an insider leaked internal videos to dissident journalist Chris Rufo of creators boasting about how they freely inserted their “secret gay agenda” into children’s entertainment at every opportunity, just as concerned parents had lamented. Schools had been caught facilitating transgender transitions without parental consent in school clubs, secret transition closets, and internal documents. The “lab leak theory” of sars-cov-2 origins had achieved mainstream plausibility, though not a certainty, in government inquiries and the “paper of record”. Jeffrey Epstein’s sex ring for mostly powerful and influential democrats was by then public knowledge, though most of his secrets went with him to the grave in a strange death in jail. The #Twitterfiles had been been published exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus and validating suspicions about shadow banning. Two of those social media censors admitted it was wrong of them to censor Hunter Biden’s scandalous laptop as Russian disinformation, the result of an effort spearheaded by Antony Blinken and facilitated by the government-funded Aspen Institute. And indeed, the left wing Russian Conspiracy theory against Donald Trump had emerged as a conspiracy between the Hilary Clinton campaign, the Obama administration, and government actors. Satirists at the Babylon Bee had a bit where they regularly paired their farcical headlines with real headlines: “another prophecy fulfilled”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

Michael Austin was introdices the books with a few examples.

In good chapter on anger, love, and hope Bock offers an always timely exhortation to guard our hearts: “Christians should be careful that their beliefs about the world don’t interfere with their ability to love others.” He a few more examples of untoward conspiracist. “Let’s assume for the moment that some of the worst conspiracy theories are true. For example, vaccines contain tracking devices, contrails are really chemtrails, and the 2020 US presidential election was rigged. If these were true, then anger would be appropriate, right? But how angry should we get?

and.
For example, anger that springs from a belief in a conspiracy theory might prevent us from acting kindly toward government workers who enforce a vaccine mandate or a clerk at a grocery store who enforces a mask mandate.

Both Austin and Bock emphasize the importance of intellectual humility, an essential epistemic virtue if ever there was one. Echoing the Apostle James, Bock offers the following tip: “ask conspiracy theorists whether they think it’s possible that they’re wrong. Humble people don’t get angry very quickly because they don’t rush to judgment too quickly. They spend time examining the evidence and listening to different points of view.” Of course, intellectual humility is a requisite virtue not just for conspiracists but for university professors and government bureaucrats too. But the authors have no exhortations for those in power who at the peak of hubris led the massive censorship programs, dismissed non-conforming professors, and marginalized alternative policy prescriptions all while making many false claims and projections from which they’ve had to backpedal since. Those in power with greater responsibility by far need not worry that they’ll be chastised in these pages.

one especially regrettable example

As evangelicals, we’re still trying to assess and find our footing after the cultural upheaval, COVID lockdowns, widespread political violence, and contested elections that took place starting with the polarizing election of Donald Trump in 2016. In one 2023 response, editors Michael W. Austin and Gregory L. Bock commandeered a couple dozen evangelical academics to exhort people in the pews to steer clear of conspiracy theories and dissenting opinions. Some of them are old friends and professors from my graduate education, with whom I enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many excellent philosophy classes at Biola University. Nevertheless, apart from a lot of unobjectionable and commendable epistemological advice, Qanon, Chaos, and the Cross (QCC) somehow manages to learn teach exactly the wrong lesson from these tumultuous years. Captive to a technocratic, institutional, and partisan mindset, the book discourages average Christians from “doing their own research” and questioning government sanctioned experts. How these authors came away with this lesson, we’ll explore. As one who witnessed these events and unadvisedly did my own research, I aver. This is no time to acquiesce. This recent history cries out not for less but more critically engaged citizens who will question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with our democratic republic, by the people for the people. Average Christians especially should be emboldened to respectfully question authority and disarm the powers and principalities set against the citizen, and against the cross.

In early 2023 when QCC was advertised as forthcoming, I wondered which conspiracies would remain unfounded until publication. At the time, dissenters from government proclamations and policies were gloating on social media about all the supposedly tin-foil conspiracy theories that had been validated by subsequent events. Critical Race Theory and “anti-racism” being taught in schools, which the public was assured ad nauseam was “not happening”, had been instantiated by countless videos and screenshots of classroom instruction and curriculum. Disney creators were leaked boasting about how they freely inserted their “secret gay agenda” into children’s entertainment at every opportunity, just as media watchdogs had warned. Schools had been caught facilitating transgender transitions without parental consent in school clubs, secret transition closets, and internal documents. The “lab leak theory” of sars-cov-2 origins had achieved mainstream plausibility in government inquiries and the “paper of record”. Jeffrey Epstein’s sex ring for mostly powerful and influential democrats was by then public knowledge, though most of his secrets went with him to the grave in a strange death in jail. The #Twitterfiles had been been published exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus and validating suspicions about shadow banning. Two of those social media censors admitted it was wrong of them to censor Hunter Biden’s scandalous laptop as Russian disinformation, the result of an effort spearheaded by Antony Blinken and facilitated by the government-funded Aspen Institute. And indeed, the left wing Russian Conspiracy theory against Donald Trump had emerged as a conspiracy between the Hilary Clinton campaign, the Obama administration, and government actors. Satirists at the Babylon Bee had a bit where they regularly paired their farcical headlines with real headlines: “another prophecy fulfilled”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

Michael Austin was introdices the books with a few examples.

In good chapter on anger, love, and hope Bock offers an always timely exhortation to guard our hearts: “Christians should be careful that their beliefs about the world don’t interfere with their ability to love others.” He a few more examples of untoward conspiracist. “Let’s assume for the moment that some of the worst conspiracy theories are true. For example, vaccines contain tracking devices, contrails are really chemtrails, and the 2020 US presidential election was rigged. If these were true, then anger would be appropriate, right? But how angry should we get?

and.
For example, anger that springs from a belief in a conspiracy theory might prevent us from acting kindly toward government workers who enforce a vaccine mandate or a clerk at a grocery store who enforces a mask mandate.

Both Austin and Bock emphasize the importance of intellectual humility, an essential epistemic virtue if ever there was one. Echoing the Apostle James, Bock offers the following tip: “ask conspiracy theorists whether they think it’s possible that they’re wrong. Humble people don’t get angry very quickly because they don’t rush to judgment too quickly. They spend time examining the evidence and listening to different points of view.” Of course, intellectual humility is a requisite virtue not just for conspiracists but for university professors and government bureaucrats too. But the authors have no exhortations for those in power who at the peak of hubris led the massive censorship programs, dismissed non-conforming professors, and marginalized alternative policy prescriptions all while making many false claims and projections from which they’ve had to backpedal since. Those in power with greater responsibility by far need not worry that they’ll be chastised in these pages.

one especially regrettable example

As evangelicals, we’re still trying to assess and find our footing after the cultural upheaval, COVID lockdowns, widespread political violence, and contested elections that took place starting with the polarizing election of Donald Trump in 2016. In one 2023 response, editors Michael W. Austin and Gregory L. Bock commandeered a couple dozen evangelical academics to exhort people in the pews to steer clear of conspiracy theories and dissenting opinions. Some of them are old friends and professors from my graduate education, with whom I enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many excellent philosophy classes at Biola University. Nevertheless, apart from a lot of unobjectionable and commendable epistemological advice, Qanon, Chaos, and the Cross (QCC) somehow manages to learn teach exactly the wrong lesson from these tumultuous years. Captive to a technocratic, institutional, and partisan mindset, the book discourages average Christians from “doing their own research” and questioning government sanctioned experts. How these authors came away with this lesson, we’ll explore. As one who witnessed these events and unadvisedly did my own research, I aver. This is no time to acquiesce. This recent history cries out not for less but more critically engaged citizens who will question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with our democratic republic, by the people for the people. Average Christians especially should be emboldened to respectfully question authority and disarm the powers and principalities set against the citizen, and against the cross.

In early 2023 when QCC was advertised as forthcoming, I wondered which conspiracies would remain unfounded until publication. At the time, dissenters from government proclamations and policies were gloating on social media about all the supposedly tin-foil conspiracy theories that had been validated by subsequent events. Critical Race Theory and “anti-racism” being taught in schools, which the public was assured ad nauseam was “not happening”, had been instantiated by countless videos and screenshots of classroom instruction and curriculum. Disney creators were leaked boasting about how they freely inserted their “secret gay agenda” into children’s entertainment at every opportunity, just as media watchdogs had warned. Schools had been caught facilitating transgender transitions without parental consent in school clubs, secret transition closets, and internal documents. The “lab leak theory” of sars-cov-2 origins had achieved mainstream plausibility in government inquiries and the “paper of record”. Jeffrey Epstein’s sex ring for mostly powerful and influential democrats was by then public knowledge, though most of his secrets went with him to the grave in a strange death in jail. The #Twitterfiles had been been published exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus and validating suspicions about shadow banning. The dismissal of Hunter Biden’s scandalous laptop as Russian disinformation was spearheaded by Antony Blinken and facilitated by the government-funded Aspen Institute. And indeed, the whole Russian Conspiracy Hoax launched against Donald Trump was emerging as a conspiracy between the Hilary Clinton campaign, the Obama administration, and government actors. Satirists at the Babylon Bee had a bit where they regularly paired their farcical headlines with real headlines: “another prophecy fulfilled”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

Michael Austin was introdices the books with a few examples.

In good chapter on anger, love, and hope Bock offers an always timely exhortation to guard our hearts: “Christians should be careful that their beliefs about the world don’t interfere with their ability to love others.” He a few more examples of untoward conspiracist. “Let’s assume for the moment that some of the worst conspiracy theories are true. For example, vaccines contain tracking devices, contrails are really chemtrails, and the 2020 US presidential election was rigged. If these were true, then anger would be appropriate, right? But how angry should we get?

and.
For example, anger that springs from a belief in a conspiracy theory might prevent us from acting kindly toward government workers who enforce a vaccine mandate or a clerk at a grocery store who enforces a mask mandate.

Both Austin and Bock emphasize the importance of intellectual humility, an essential epistemic virtue if ever there was one. Echoing the Apostle James, Bock offers the following tip: “ask conspiracy theorists whether they think it’s possible that they’re wrong. Humble people don’t get angry very quickly because they don’t rush to judgment too quickly. They spend time examining the evidence and listening to different points of view.” Of course, intellectual humility is a requisite virtue not just for conspiracists but for university professors and government bureaucrats too. But the authors have no exhortations for those in power who at the peak of hubris led the massive censorship programs, dismissed non-conforming professors, and marginalized alternative policy prescriptions all while making many false claims and projections from which they’ve had to backpedal since. Those in power with greater responsibility by far need not worry that they’ll be chastised in these pages.

one especially regrettable example

As evangelicals, we’re still trying to assess and find our footing after the cultural upheaval, COVID lockdowns, widespread political violence, and contested elections that took place starting with the polarizing election of Donald Trump in 2016. In one 2023 response, editors Michael W. Austin and Gregory L. Bock commandeered a couple dozen evangelical academics to exhort people in the pews to steer clear of conspiracy theories and dissenting opinions. Some of them are old friends and professors from my graduate education, with whom I enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many excellent philosophy classes at Biola University. Nevertheless, apart from a lot of unobjectionable and commendable epistemological advice, Qanon, Chaos, and the Cross (QCC) somehow manages to learn teach exactly the wrong lesson from these tumultuous years. Captive to a technocratic, institutional, and partisan mindset, the book discourages average Christians from “doing their own research” and questioning government sanctioned experts. How these authors came away with this lesson, we’ll explore. As one who witnessed these events and unadvisedly did my own research, I aver. This is no time to acquiesce. This recent history cries out not for less but more critically engaged citizens who will question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with our democratic republic, by the people for the people. Average Christians especially should be emboldened to respectfully question authority and disarm the powers and principalities set against the citizen, and against the cross.

In early 2023 when QCC was advertised as forthcoming, I wondered which conspiracies would remain unfounded until publication. At the time, dissenters from government proclamations and policies were gloating on social media about all the supposedly tin-foil conspiracy theories that had been validated by subsequent events. Critical Race Theory and “anti-racism” being taught in schools, which the public was assured ad nauseam was “not happening”, had been instantiated by countless videos and screenshots of classroom instruction and curriculum. Disney creators were leaked boasting about how they freely inserted their “secret gay agenda” into children’s entertainment at every opportunity, just as media watchdogs had warned. Schools had been caught facilitating transgender transitions without parental consent in school clubs, secret transition closets, and internal documents. The “lab leak theory” of sars-cov-2 origins had achieved mainstream plausibility in government inquiries and the “paper of record”. Jeffrey Epstein’s sex ring for mostly powerful and influential democrats was by then public knowledge, though most of his secrets went with him to the grave in a strange death in jail. The #Twitterfiles had been been published exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus and validating suspicions about shadow banning. The dismissal of Hunter Biden’s scandalous laptop as Russian disinformation was spearheaded by Antony Blinken and facilitated by the government-funded Aspen Institute. And indeed, the whole Russian Conspiracy Hoax launched against Donald Trump was emerging as a conspiracy between the Hilary Clinton campaign, the Obama administration, and government actors. Satirists at the Babylon Bee had a bit where they regularly paired their farcical headlines with real headlines: “another prophecy fulfilled”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

Michael Austin was introdices the books with a few examples.

In good chapter on anger, love, and hope Bock offers an always timely exhortation to guard our hearts: “Christians should be careful that their beliefs about the world don’t interfere with their ability to love others.” He a few more examples of untoward conspiracist. “Let’s assume for the moment that some of the worst conspiracy theories are true. For example, vaccines contain tracking devices, contrails are really chemtrails, and the 2020 US presidential election was rigged. If these were true, then anger would be appropriate, right? But how angry should we get?

and.
For example, anger that springs from a belief in a conspiracy theory might prevent us from acting kindly toward government workers who enforce a vaccine mandate or a clerk at a grocery store who enforces a mask mandate.

Both Austin and Bock emphasize the importance of intellectual humility, an essential epistemic virtue if ever there was one. Echoing the Apostle James, Bock offers the following tip: “ask conspiracy theorists whether they think it’s possible that they’re wrong. Humble people don’t get angry very quickly because they don’t rush to judgment too quickly. They spend time examining the evidence and listening to different points of view.” Of course, intellectual humility is a requisite virtue not just for conspiracists but for university professors and government bureaucrats too. But the authors have no exhortations for those in power who at the peak of hubris led the massive censorship programs, dismissed non-conforming professors, and marginalized alternative policy prescriptions all while making many false claims and projections from which they’ve had to backpedal since. Those in power with greater responsibility by far need not worry that they’ll be chastised in these pages.

one especially regrettable example

As evangelicals, we’re still trying to assess and find our footing after the cultural upheaval, COVID lockdowns, widespread political violence, and contested elections that took place starting with the polarizing election of Donald Trump in 2016. In one 2023 response, editors Michael W. Austin and Gregory L. Bock commandeered a couple dozen evangelical academics to exhort people in the pews to steer clear of conspiracy theories and dissenting opinions. Some of them are old friends and professors from my graduate education, with whom I enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many excellent philosophy classes at Biola University. Nevertheless, apart from a lot of unobjectionable and commendable epistemological advice, Qanon, Chaos, and the Cross (QCC) somehow manages to learn teach exactly the wrong lesson from these tumultuous years. Captive to a technocratic, institutional, and partisan mindset, the book discourages average Christians from “doing their own research” and questioning government sanctioned experts. How these authors came away with this lesson, we’ll explore. As one who witnessed these events and unadvisedly did my own research, I aver. This is no time to acquiesce. This recent history cries out not for less but more critically engaged citizens who will question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with our democratic republic, by the people for the people. Average Christians especially should be emboldened to respectfully question authority and disarm the powers and principalities set against the citizen, and against the cross.

In early 2023 when QCC was advertised as forthcoming, I wondered which conspiracies would remain unfounded until publication. At the time, dissenters from government proclamations and policies were gloating on social media about all the supposedly tin-foil conspiracy theories that had been validated by subsequent events. Critical Race Theory and “anti-racism” being taught in schools, which the public was assured ad nauseam was “not happening”, had been instantiated by countless videos and screenshots of classroom instruction and curriculum. Disney creators were leaked boasting about how they freely inserted their “secret gay agenda” into children’s entertainment at every opportunity, just as media watchdogs had warned. Schools had been caught facilitating transgender transitions without parental consent in school clubs, secret changing rooms, and internal documents. The “lab leak theory” of sars-cov-2 origins had achieved mainstream plausibility in government inquiries and the “paper of record”. Jeffrey Epstein’s sex ring for mostly powerful and influential democrats was by then public knowledge, though most of his secrets went with him to the grave in a strange death in jail. The #Twitterfiles had been been published exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus and validating suspicions about shadow banning. The dismissal of Hunter Biden’s scandalous laptop as Russian disinformation was spearheaded by Antony Blinken and facilitated by the government-funded Aspen Institute. And indeed, the whole Russian Conspiracy Hoax launched against Donald Trump was emerging as a conspiracy between the Hilary Clinton campaign, the Obama administration, and government actors. Satirists at the Babylon Bee had a bit where they regularly paired their farcical headlines with real headlines: “another prophecy fulfilled”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

Michael Austin was introdices the books with a few examples.

In good chapter on anger, love, and hope Bock offers an always timely exhortation to guard our hearts: “Christians should be careful that their beliefs about the world don’t interfere with their ability to love others.” He a few more examples of untoward conspiracist. “Let’s assume for the moment that some of the worst conspiracy theories are true. For example, vaccines contain tracking devices, contrails are really chemtrails, and the 2020 US presidential election was rigged. If these were true, then anger would be appropriate, right? But how angry should we get?

and.
For example, anger that springs from a belief in a conspiracy theory might prevent us from acting kindly toward government workers who enforce a vaccine mandate or a clerk at a grocery store who enforces a mask mandate.

Both Austin and Bock emphasize the importance of intellectual humility, an essential epistemic virtue if ever there was one. Echoing the Apostle James, Bock offers the following tip: “ask conspiracy theorists whether they think it’s possible that they’re wrong. Humble people don’t get angry very quickly because they don’t rush to judgment too quickly. They spend time examining the evidence and listening to different points of view.” Of course, intellectual humility is a requisite virtue not just for conspiracists but for university professors and government bureaucrats too. But the authors have no exhortations for those in power who at the peak of hubris led the massive censorship programs, dismissed non-conforming professors, and marginalized alternative policy prescriptions all while making many false claims and projections from which they’ve had to backpedal since. Those in power with greater responsibility by far need not worry that they’ll be chastised in these pages.

one especially regrettable example

As evangelicals, we’re still trying to assess and find our footing after the cultural upheaval, COVID lockdowns, widespread political violence, and contested elections that took place starting with the polarizing election of Donald Trump in 2016. In one 2023 response, editors Michael W. Austin and Gregory L. Bock commandeered a couple dozen evangelical academics to exhort people in the pews to steer clear of conspiracy theories and dissenting opinions. Some of them are old friends and professors from my graduate education, with whom I enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many excellent philosophy classes at Biola University. Nevertheless, apart from a lot of unobjectionable and commendable epistemological advice, Qanon, Chaos, and the Cross (QCC) somehow manages to learn teach exactly the wrong lesson from these tumultuous years. Captive to a technocratic, institutional, and partisan mindset, the book discourages average Christians from “doing their own research” and questioning government sanctioned experts. How these authors came away with this lesson, we’ll explore. As one who witnessed these events and unadvisedly did my own research, I aver. This is no time to acquiesce. This recent history cries out not for less but more critically engaged citizens who will question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with our democratic republic, by the people for the people. Average Christians especially should be emboldened to respectfully question authority and disarm the powers and principalities set against the citizen, and against the cross.

In early 2023 when QCC was advertised as forthcoming, I wondered which conspiracies would remain unfounded until publication. At the time, dissenters from government proclamations and policies were gloating on social media about all the supposedly tin-foil conspiracy theories that had been validated by subsequent events. Critical Race Theory and “anti-racism” being taught in schools, which the public was assured ad nauseam was “not happening”, had been instantiated by countless videos and screenshots of classroom instruction and curriculum. Disney creators were leaked boasting about how they freely inserted their “secret gay agenda” into children’s entertainment at every opportunity, just as media watchdogs had warned. Schools had been caught facilitating transgender transitions without parental consent in school clubs, secret changing rooms, and internal documents. The “lab leak theory” of sars-cov-2 origins had achieved mainstream plausibility in government inquiries and the “paper of record”. Jeffrey Epstein’s sex ring for mostly powerful and influential democrats was by then public knowledge, though most of his secrets went with him to the grave in a strange death in jail. The #Twitterfiles had been been published exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus and validating suspicions about shadow banning. The dismissal of Hunter Biden’s scandalous laptop as Russian disinformation was spearheaded by Antony Blinken and facilitated by the government-funded Aspen Institute. And the whole Russian Conspiracy Hoax launched against Donald Trump was emerging as a conspiracy between the Hilary Clinton campaign, the Obama administration, and government actors. Satirists at the Babylon Bee had a bit where they regularly paired their farcical headlines with real headlines: “another prophecy fulfilled”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

Michael Austin was introdices the books with a few examples.

In good chapter on anger, love, and hope Bock offers an always timely exhortation to guard our hearts: “Christians should be careful that their beliefs about the world don’t interfere with their ability to love others.” He a few more examples of untoward conspiracist. “Let’s assume for the moment that some of the worst conspiracy theories are true. For example, vaccines contain tracking devices, contrails are really chemtrails, and the 2020 US presidential election was rigged. If these were true, then anger would be appropriate, right? But how angry should we get?

and.
For example, anger that springs from a belief in a conspiracy theory might prevent us from acting kindly toward government workers who enforce a vaccine mandate or a clerk at a grocery store who enforces a mask mandate.

Both Austin and Bock emphasize the importance of intellectual humility, an essential epistemic virtue if ever there was one. Echoing the Apostle James, Bock offers the following tip: “ask conspiracy theorists whether they think it’s possible that they’re wrong. Humble people don’t get angry very quickly because they don’t rush to judgment too quickly. They spend time examining the evidence and listening to different points of view.” Of course, intellectual humility is a requisite virtue not just for conspiracists but for university professors and government bureaucrats too. But the authors have no exhortations for those in power who at the peak of hubris led the massive censorship programs, dismissed non-conforming professors, and marginalized alternative policy prescriptions all while making many false claims and projections from which they’ve had to backpedal since. Those in power with greater responsibility by far need not worry that they’ll be chastised in these pages.

one especially regrettable example

As evangelicals, we’re still trying to assess and find our footing after the cultural upheaval, COVID lockdowns, widespread political violence, and contested elections that took place starting with the polarizing election of Donald Trump in 2016. In one 2023 response, editors Michael W. Austin and Gregory L. Bock commandeered a couple dozen evangelical academics to exhort people in the pews to steer clear of conspiracy theories and dissenting opinions. Some of them are old friends and professors from my graduate education, with whom I enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many excellent philosophy classes at Biola University. Nevertheless, apart from a lot of unobjectionable and commendable epistemological advice, Qanon, Chaos, and the Cross (QCC) somehow manages to learn teach exactly the wrong lesson from these tumultuous years. Captive to a technocratic, institutional, and partisan mindset, the book discourages average Christians from “doing their own research” and questioning government sanctioned experts. How these authors came away with this lesson, we’ll explore. As one who witnessed these events and unadvisedly did my own research, I aver. This is no time to acquiesce. This recent history cries out not for less but more critically engaged citizens who will question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with our democratic republic, by the people for the people. Average Christians especially should be emboldened to respectfully question authority and disarm the powers and principalities set against the citizen, and against the cross.

In early 2023 when QCC was advertised as forthcoming, I wondered which conspiracies would remain unfounded until publication. At the time, dissenters from government proclamations and policies were gloating on social media about all the supposedly tin-foil conspiracy theories that had been validated by subsequent events. Critical Race Theory and “anti-racism” being taught in schools, which the public was assured ad nauseam was “not happening”, had been instantiated by countless videos and screenshots of classroom instruction and curriculum. Disney creators were leaked boasting about how they freely inserted their “secret gay agenda” into children’s entertainment at every opportunity, just as media watchdogs had warned. Schools had been caught facilitating transgender transitions without parental consent in school clubs, secret changing rooms, and internal documents. The “lab leak theory” of sars-cov-2 origins had achieved mainstream plausibility in government inquiries and the “paper of record”. Jeffrey Epstein’s sex ring for mostly powerful and influential democrats was by then public knowledge, though most of his secrets went with him to the grave in a strange death in jail. The #Twitterfiles had been been published exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus and validating suspicions about shadow banning. The dismissal of Hunter Biden’s scandalous laptop as Russian disinformation was known to be a government op facilitated by the Aspen Institute. And the whole Russian Conspiracy Hoax launched against Donald Trump was emerging as a conspiracy between the Hilary Clinton campaign, the Obama administration, and government actors. Satirists at the Babylon Bee had a bit where they regularly paired their farcical headlines with real headlines: “another prophecy fulfilled”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

Michael Austin was introdices the books with a few examples.

In good chapter on anger, love, and hope Bock offers an always timely exhortation to guard our hearts: “Christians should be careful that their beliefs about the world don’t interfere with their ability to love others.” He a few more examples of untoward conspiracist. “Let’s assume for the moment that some of the worst conspiracy theories are true. For example, vaccines contain tracking devices, contrails are really chemtrails, and the 2020 US presidential election was rigged. If these were true, then anger would be appropriate, right? But how angry should we get?

and.
For example, anger that springs from a belief in a conspiracy theory might prevent us from acting kindly toward government workers who enforce a vaccine mandate or a clerk at a grocery store who enforces a mask mandate.

Both Austin and Bock emphasize the importance of intellectual humility, an essential epistemic virtue if ever there was one. Echoing the Apostle James, Bock offers the following tip: “ask conspiracy theorists whether they think it’s possible that they’re wrong. Humble people don’t get angry very quickly because they don’t rush to judgment too quickly. They spend time examining the evidence and listening to different points of view.” Of course, intellectual humility is a requisite virtue not just for conspiracists but for university professors and government bureaucrats too. But the authors have no exhortations for those in power who at the peak of hubris led the massive censorship programs, dismissed non-conforming professors, and marginalized alternative policy prescriptions all while making many false claims and projections from which they’ve had to backpedal since. Those in power with greater responsibility by far need not worry that they’ll be chastised in these pages.

one especially regrettable example

As evangelicals, we’re still trying to assess and find our footing after the cultural upheaval, COVID lockdowns, widespread political violence, and contested elections that took place starting with the polarizing election of Donald Trump in 2016. In one 2023 response, editors Michael W. Austin and Gregory L. Bock commandeered a couple dozen evangelical academics to exhort people in the pews to steer clear of conspiracy theories and dissenting opinions. Some of them are old friends and professors from my graduate education, with whom I enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many excellent philosophy classes at Biola University. Nevertheless, apart from a lot of unobjectionable and commendable epistemological advice, Qanon, Chaos, and the Cross (QCC) somehow manages to learn teach exactly the wrong lesson from these tumultuous years. Captive to a technocratic, institutional, and partisan mindset, the book discourages average Christians from “doing their own research” and questioning government sanctioned experts. How these authors came away with this lesson, we’ll explore. As one who witnessed these events and unadvisedly did my own research, I aver. This is no time to acquiesce. This recent history cries out not for less but more critically engaged citizens who will question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with democratic principles and the call upon Christians to test the spirits. Average Christians should be emboldened to question authority and disarm the powers and principalities set against the citizen, and against the cross.

In early 2023 when QCC was advertised as forthcoming, I wondered which conspiracies would remain unfounded until publication. At the time, dissenters from government proclamations and policies were gloating on social media about all the supposedly tin-foil conspiracy theories that had been validated by subsequent events. Critical Race Theory and “anti-racism” being taught in schools, which the public was assured ad nauseam was “not happening”, had been instantiated by countless videos and screenshots of classroom instruction and curriculum. Disney creators were leaked boasting about how they freely inserted their “secret gay agenda” into children’s entertainment at every opportunity, just as media watchdogs had warned. Schools had been caught facilitating transgender transitions without parental consent in school clubs, secret changing rooms, and internal documents. The “lab leak theory” of sars-cov-2 origins had achieved mainstream plausibility in government inquiries and the “paper of record”. Jeffrey Epstein’s sex ring for mostly powerful and influential democrats was by then public knowledge, though most of his secrets went with him to the grave in a strange death in jail. The #Twitterfiles had been been published exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus and validating suspicions about shadow banning. The dismissal of Hunter Biden’s scandalous laptop as Russian disinformation was known to be a government op facilitated by the Aspen Institute. And the whole Russian Conspiracy Hoax launched against Donald Trump was emerging as a conspiracy between the Hilary Clinton campaign, the Obama administration, and government actors. Satirists at the Babylon Bee had a bit where they regularly paired their farcical headlines with real headlines: “another prophecy fulfilled”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

Michael Austin was introdices the books with a few examples.

In good chapter on anger, love, and hope Bock offers an always timely exhortation to guard our hearts: “Christians should be careful that their beliefs about the world don’t interfere with their ability to love others.” He a few more examples of untoward conspiracist. “Let’s assume for the moment that some of the worst conspiracy theories are true. For example, vaccines contain tracking devices, contrails are really chemtrails, and the 2020 US presidential election was rigged. If these were true, then anger would be appropriate, right? But how angry should we get?

and.
For example, anger that springs from a belief in a conspiracy theory might prevent us from acting kindly toward government workers who enforce a vaccine mandate or a clerk at a grocery store who enforces a mask mandate.

Both Austin and Bock emphasize the importance of intellectual humility, an essential epistemic virtue if ever there was one. Echoing the Apostle James, Bock offers the following tip: “ask conspiracy theorists whether they think it’s possible that they’re wrong. Humble people don’t get angry very quickly because they don’t rush to judgment too quickly. They spend time examining the evidence and listening to different points of view.” Of course, intellectual humility is a requisite virtue not just for conspiracists but for university professors and government bureaucrats too. But the authors have no exhortations for those in power who at the peak of hubris led the massive censorship programs, dismissed non-conforming professors, and marginalized alternative policy prescriptions all while making many false claims and projections from which they’ve had to backpedal since. Those in power with greater responsibility by far need not worry that they’ll be chastised in these pages.

one especially regrettable example

As evangelicals, we’re still trying to assess and find our footing after the cultural upheaval, COVID lockdowns, widespread political violence, and contested elections that took place starting with the polarizing election of Donald Trump in 2016. In one 2023 response, editors Michael W. Austin and Gregory L. Bock commandeered a couple dozen evangelical academics to exhort people in the pews to steer clear of conspiracy theories and dissenting opinions. Some of them are old friends and professors from my graduate education, with whom I enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many excellent philosophy classes at Biola University. Nevertheless, apart from a lot of unobjectionable and commendable epistemological advice, Qanon, Chaos, and the Cross (QCC) somehow manages to learn teach exactly the wrong lesson from these tumultuous years. Captive to a technocratic, institutional, and partisan mindset, the book discourages average Christians from “doing their own research” and questioning government sanctioned experts. How these authors came away with this lesson, we’ll explore. As one who witnessed these events and unadvisedly did my own research, I aver. This is no time to acquiesce . This recent history cries out for critically engaged citizens who will question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with democratic principles and the call upon Christians to test the spirits. Average Christians should be emboldened to question authority and disarm the powers and principalities set against the citizen, and against the cross.

In early 2023 when QCC was advertised as forthcoming, I wondered which conspiracies would remain unfounded until publication. At the time, dissenters from government proclamations and policies were gloating on social media about all the supposedly tin-foil conspiracy theories that had been validated by subsequent events. Critical Race Theory and “anti-racism” being taught in schools, which the public was assured ad nauseam was “not happening”, had been instantiated by countless videos and screenshots of classroom instruction and curriculum. Disney creators were leaked boasting about how they freely inserted their “secret gay agenda” into children’s entertainment at every opportunity, just as media watchdogs had warned. Schools had been caught facilitating transgender transitions without parental consent in school clubs, secret changing rooms, and internal documents. The “lab leak theory” of sars-cov-2 origins had achieved mainstream plausibility in government inquiries and the “paper of record”. Jeffrey Epstein’s sex ring for mostly powerful and influential democrats was by then public knowledge, though most of his secrets went with him to the grave in a strange death in jail. The #Twitterfiles had been been published exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus and validating suspicions about shadow banning. The dismissal of Hunter Biden’s scandalous laptop as Russian disinformation was known to be a government op facilitated by the Aspen Institute. And the whole Russian Conspiracy Hoax launched against Donald Trump was emerging as a conspiracy between the Hilary Clinton campaign, the Obama administration, and government actors. Satirists at the Babylon Bee had a bit where they regularly paired their farcical headlines with real headlines: “another prophecy fulfilled”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

Michael Austin was introdices the books with a few examples.

In good chapter on anger, love, and hope Bock offers an always timely exhortation to guard our hearts: “Christians should be careful that their beliefs about the world don’t interfere with their ability to love others.” He a few more examples of untoward conspiracist. “Let’s assume for the moment that some of the worst conspiracy theories are true. For example, vaccines contain tracking devices, contrails are really chemtrails, and the 2020 US presidential election was rigged. If these were true, then anger would be appropriate, right? But how angry should we get?

and.
For example, anger that springs from a belief in a conspiracy theory might prevent us from acting kindly toward government workers who enforce a vaccine mandate or a clerk at a grocery store who enforces a mask mandate.

Both Austin and Bock emphasize the importance of intellectual humility, an essential epistemic virtue if ever there was one. Echoing the Apostle James, Bock offers the following tip: “ask conspiracy theorists whether they think it’s possible that they’re wrong. Humble people don’t get angry very quickly because they don’t rush to judgment too quickly. They spend time examining the evidence and listening to different points of view.” Of course, intellectual humility is a requisite virtue not just for conspiracists but for university professors and government bureaucrats too. But the authors have no exhortations for those in power who at the peak of hubris led the massive censorship programs, dismissed non-conforming professors, and marginalized alternative policy prescriptions all while making many false claims and projections from which they’ve had to backpedal since. Those in power with greater responsibility by far need not worry that they’ll be chastised in these pages.

one especially regrettable example

As evangelicals, we’re still trying to assess and find our footing after the cultural upheaval, COVID lockdowns, widespread political violence, and contested elections that took place starting with the polarizing election of Donald Trump in 2016. In one 2023 response, editors Michael W. Austin and Gregory L. Bock commandeered a couple dozen evangelical academics to exhort people in the pews to steer clear of conspiracy theories and dissenting opinions. Some of them are old friends and professors from my graduate education, with whom I enjoyed games of Ultimate frisbee and many excellent philosophy classes at Biola University. Nevertheless, apart from a lot of unobjectionable epistemological advice, Qanon, Chaos, and the Cross (QCC) somehow manages to learn all the wrong lessons from these tumultuous years. Captive to a technocratic, institutional, and partisan mindset, the book discourages average Christians from “doing their own research” and questioning government sanctioned experts. How these authors came away with this lesson, we’ll explore. As one who witnessed these events and unadvisedly did my own research, I aver. This is no time to acquiesce . This recent history cries out for critically engaged citizens who will question and hold their leaders accountable in keeping with democratic principles and the call upon Christians to test the spirits. Average Christians should be emboldened to question authority and disarm the powers and principalities set against the citizen, and against the cross.

In early 2023 when QCC was advertised as forthcoming, I wondered which conspiracies would remain unfounded until publication. At the time, dissenters from government proclamations and policies were gloating on social media about all the supposedly tin-foil conspiracy theories that had been validated by subsequent events. Critical Race Theory and “anti-racism” being taught in schools, which the public was assured ad nauseam was “not happening”, had been instantiated by countless videos and screenshots of classroom instruction and curriculum. Disney creators were leaked boasting about how they freely inserted their “secret gay agenda” into children’s entertainment at every opportunity, just as media watchdogs had warned. Schools had been caught facilitating transgender transitions without parental consent in school clubs, secret changing rooms, and internal documents. The “lab leak theory” of sars-cov-2 origins had achieved mainstream plausibility in government inquiries and the “paper of record”. Jeffrey Epstein’s sex ring for mostly powerful and influential democrats was by then public knowledge, though most of his secrets went with him to the grave in a strange death in jail. The #Twitterfiles had been been published exposing a vast government and NGO directed censorship apparatus and validating suspicions about shadow banning. The dismissal of Hunter Biden’s scandalous laptop as Russian disinformation was known to be a government op facilitated by the Aspen Institute. And the whole Russian Conspiracy Hoax launched against Donald Trump was emerging as a conspiracy between the Hilary Clinton campaign, the Obama administration, and government actors. Satirists at the Babylon Bee had a bit where they regularly paired their farcical headlines with real headlines: “another prophecy fulfilled”. So what kinds of conspiracism was QCC left with to address?

Michael Austin was introdices the books with a few examples.

In good chapter on anger, love, and hope Bock offers an always timely exhortation to guard our hearts: “Christians should be careful that their beliefs about the world don’t interfere with their ability to love others.” He a few more examples of untoward conspiracist. “Let’s assume for the moment that some of the worst conspiracy theories are true. For example, vaccines contain tracking devices, contrails are really chemtrails, and the 2020 US presidential election was rigged. If these were true, then anger would be appropriate, right? But how angry should we get?

and.
For example, anger that springs from a belief in a conspiracy theory might prevent us from acting kindly toward government workers who enforce a vaccine mandate or a clerk at a grocery store who enforces a mask mandate.

Both Austin and Bock emphasize the importance of intellectual humility, an essential epistemic virtue if ever there was one. Echoing the Apostle James, Bock offers the following tip: “ask conspiracy theorists whether they think it’s possible that they’re wrong. Humble people don’t get angry very quickly because they don’t rush to judgment too quickly. They spend time examining the evidence and listening to different points of view.” Of course, intellectual humility is a requisite virtue not just for conspiracists but for university professors and government bureaucrats too. But the authors have no exhortations for those in power who at the peak of hubris led the massive censorship programs, dismissed non-conforming professors, and marginalized alternative policy prescriptions all while making many false claims and projections from which they’ve had to backpedal since. Those in power with greater responsibility by far need not worry that they’ll be chastised in these pages.

one especially regrettable example