(Part 3) Our End-Times Beliefs Affect How We Interpret Today’s News

Over the past two posts, we’ve considered several ways our end-times and cultural beliefs can impact our knee-jerk interpretations of the daily news. We’ve examined a few aspects of recent theological and political history, and we have named some of the influences that have made us vulnerable to trusting and forwarding materials that aren’t necessarily reliable.

But understanding these factors is only half of the work we need to do. After analyzing and admitting our vulnerabilities, we must then develop a path forward. 

Afterall, the danger is real. Legitimate conspiracies have arisen within human culture. At times in the past, accusations about respected citizens and groups that were first received with suspicion have eventually proven true. 

What do we do with this?

How do we distinguish between a *conspiracy theory* and a *true conspiracy*? 

What do we do when we suspect trouble? How much credence do we give our gut instincts or a sundry collection of seemingly coordinated facts? How do we use our God-given skills of perception, discernment, and analysis to uncover and resist wickedness?

Beyond this, how do we rightly handle prophecies God has given us to help prepare us for the end times? What does God want us to do (or not do) with the glimpses he has given us?

Even if I knew every answer perfectly (which I don’t), I couldn’t address such questions perfectly in a post this length. However, I can drop a few general suggestions that I think will cover broad strokes of Christian behavior in such a time.

1. Because humans are not to be entirely trusted—our mistrust should also apply to our favorite earthly clans.

That seems a bit grim, but hear me out. 

In John 2:24, we learn that Jesus didn’t entrust Himself to humans because He knew what was in the heart of man.  In the verse before, we find out that many people were believing in His name because of signs and wonders He was performing—so technically, there were tons of people “on His side” at this point. Still, Christ knew better than to think too much of a flash of earthly allegiance.

In a divided culture, it’s tempting to assume *our* people are good and *theirs* are bad. Why do we lean this direction? Books, movies, and media have long built interest and momentum around a good guy/bad guy reality, so we have a natural proclivity to thinking along this framework. 

In literary criticism, we have some labels for basic types of narrative conflict: “man vs. man,” “man vs. society,” or “man vs. nature.” The “vs.” is the key here. Such a dynamic helps ground a story and gives readers a change to engage their sense of loyalty.

In times of chaos, the “vs.” mindset is particularly alluring, as it promises to help us find identity, tribesmen, and purpose. Yet, our spiritual enemy has been in the business of destruction long enough to know the value of infiltration. Stealing, killing, and destroying have always involved covert penetrations of noble causes. 

On Jan. 27, 1838, Abraham Lincoln identified this danger while speaking before the Young Men’s Lyceum of Springfield, Illinois. He said, “At what point then is the approach of danger to be expected? I answer, if it ever reach us, it must spring up amongst us. It cannot come from abroad. If destruction be our lot, we must ourselves be its author and finisher. As a nation of freemen, we must live through all time, or die by suicide.”

(The context for this quote? According to Michael Burlingame, chair in Linclon studies at the U of Illinois, Springfield, Lincoln “was denouncing mob violence which would lead to chaos, provoking the public to demand law and order, which would be provided by an ambitious leader who would rule tyrannically. Poignant, eh?)

Lincoln was absolutely correct about the gravity of the danger of internal collapse.
And this warning applies to the information circulated within the cultural groups in which we feel most safe. 

If anything, we should be MORE cautious about information that flows through our own team—MORE wary of quickly forwarding information that comes from “our side.” Why? Because even IF we happen to be right about finding the nobler side of contemporary culture wars (if there is such a thing)—you can put money on this: the enemy of our souls will work much harder to breed corruption, lies, and confusion there than in places of total darkness.

Think about how human warfare works. If temporal battles are riddled with demoralizing, discrediting, deception and double agents—why wouldn’t spiritual battles be full of the same elements?

Instant trust for anyone claiming to be on “our side” reveals a lack of understanding about deep battle strategy. It reveals ignorance about our enemy and his methods. Being shrewd as serpents means we learn to think like military strategists, aware of danger in full 360 degrees.

Theologian and missionary Lesslie Newbigin considered the evaluation of our accepted truths a moral obligation. He wrote, “I am responsible for seeing as far as possible to insure that my beliefs are true, that I am—however fumblingly—grasping reality and therefore grasping that which is real and true for all human beings, and which will reveal its truth through further discoveries as I continue to seek.“ Though Newbigin’s context here is epistemological, his call to objectivity still applies.

If we are unwilling to stand beneath truth, the “god” we are serving in our culture war is no more than Feuerbach’s god of biased, human will projected large against the universe. This deity isn’t the great “I am” who created us—but instead, the great “I want him to be” created by us. 

2. While forwarding information, don’t violate the commandments.  It’s easy to feel like these guidelines are constrictive, but in reality, they offer profound protection.

Sure, obedience to God’s standards may slow us down a bit in our attacks—but, it can also prevent us from behaving like counterproductive fools.

Examples of potentially applicable commands? 

-Don’t bear false witness. Spreading rumors about another human being is wrong. It’s okay to investigate claims, but the destruction of someone’s reputation can’t be undone with an apology. Don’t participate in it. 

-Act in love for those you think are your enemies. Do unto them what you would want done to you, if you had been publicly suspected—but not proven to have committed a heinous crime. 

-Don’t recklessly apply God’s name as a defense or as an attack for an earthly cause. That is using his name in vain. Refuse to do this, and don’t support others who do. 

I’m hearing so much about the antichrist these days, but I rarely hear anyone discussing the book of I John, in which the apostle addresses several “antichrists” that were circulating during his era. In the midsts of these troubles, I John 1:6 says, “If we claim to have fellowship with him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth.”

So, here we see that even in the midst of supernatural, anti-Christ activity—Christians are still expected to trust and obey.

These are difficult commands, and I break many of them weekly. I’m a fighter by nature, and I regularly yank against the leash of God’s guidance. Though I’m conservative politically and theologically, my biggest fears right now involve wolves among the sheep—lethal infections taking root inside the ideologies I love most dearly.

In such times, I go full-out Eowyn. “Let me at them. I will protect what I love.” Waiting for God makes me feel way too vulnerable in a threatening world. I decide that I can do His business for him, thanks. He can catch up to me later.

Yet, how many times have I seen post facto that obedience would have been far more strategic than my impulsiveness? In fact, following God’s commands increases our power in a culture gone mad.  

When we refuse to participate in knee-jerk sins of gossip and accusation, truth filters through chaos, and we are left with pure, concentrated material that is mighty and seamless. Our accusations may be fewer, but they mean something. Our warnings have cred. Our voices stand out starkly against the frenetic rabble.

Whatever work you and I are supposed to do for the Christian cause will fall within God’s Biblical parameters. He doesn’t want to hold us back—He simply knows what works.

3. Don’t conflate advocacy with recklessness.

Zoom out a minute and think about how you would manipulate masses of Christians if you were the enemy of their souls. What sort of emotions would you try to evoke to push them into a reactivity that you could direct to destruction?

If I were both smart and evil, I wouldn’t appeal to darkness—I would appeal to good things and twist them just enough to do harm.

- I would distort healthy patriotism into rabid nationalism.

- I would distort the healthy desire to protect our families into chest-beating acts of chaotic aggression.

- I would distort a healthy, humble understanding of the Constitution into  ignorant, hyperbolic contortions of a few principles alongside the flagrant dismissal of many others.

- I would appeal to empathy, making evildoers seem like victims.

- I would present dangerous acts of Gastonesque bravado as if they were noble acts of courage

- I would label patient discernment cowardly and passive.

- I would create a sense of fearful protective urgency that has zero potential for causing real change once fervor reaches its peak. 

For so many reasons, advocacy feels good. Especially now, when so many of us are stuck and desperately want to do SOMETHING, ANYTHING, it’s tempting to turn our restlessness toward fighting for a cause.

Realizing this vulnerability, taking a moment to think like an enemy, and praying that the God who sees would protect us from being duped are smart moves.

4. Accept that apart from Jesus, we can do nothing of eternal value.

I think it’s nearly impossible for Americans to comprehend this. We are get-er-done, pull ourselves up by the bootstraps, individualists who built a nation on the beauty of autonomy. The American Dream tells us that anything is capable, if we try hard enough. Hustle is our national gospel.

American Christians generally appreciate the offer of eternal life, but we’ve pretty much got the rest covered, God, thanks. 

I have to laugh any time I see “In God We Trust” written on anything because nobody here does. We fight like our lives and cultures depend on our savagery, and Christian evangelicals are smack in the middle of that brouhaha. We will fight for God. We certainly can’t expect Him to fight for us.

We are certain that God needs 500,000 volcanic middle-aged women jacked up on cortisol forwarding half-verified memes, slander, and speculations to bring His Kingdom to earth. One day of national prayer. One national prayer breakfast. Boxes checked. Now, hand me my battle axe.

Yet, what fruit of the spirit are present here? Where are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control? What evidence is there that our activity is truly grounded in the core of Living Truth?

Did God drop end-times prophecies into the New Testament because he wanted us to go full out Nicholas Cage, rubbing lemon juice on every news story and holding it up to a light bulb to reveal the secret revelatory code?

Is this sort of behavior what Jesus meant when he said, “I am the vine and you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.”

Of course not.

Whatever we do as believers—however we are led to fight—we cannot step outside of active, obedient dependence and expect positive results. 

And here’s another kicker—a critical part of abiding in Christ is willingness to carry our cross. 

Jesus didn’t promise us a healthy stock market,  the freedom to exercise our faith without persecution, or the support of friends or family. He said walking with him would be lonely and hard sometimes. He said it might even cost our lives.

Whatever He meant by giving us end times prophecy, His foreshadowing still allowed for all of these hard things.

Moreover, many times throughout the Bible, we see God allowing His people to be thrown straight in the midst of danger, for the sake of His glory. Think of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. Esther. Daniel in the lion’s den. Paul in prison. Stephen being stoned.

Could God have interrupted the wicked plans of men sooner? Sure. I think God knew what was coming and chose to let the mechanics of earth play out so that His people could demonstrate true faith. 

Therefore, I think his warnings about the end times are there to remind us (or the believers who are around when this stuff hits) that future difficulty won’t equal a lack of love on his point,

If those writings do speak of some sort of ultimate Tribulation, I think God wants those who remain on earth during these trials to be confident in his power, shrewd, prepared, and sober so that their faith holds even as the world falls apart. He wants His people to be ready to transition to eternity instead of caught up in the promises of lesser saviors and the tsunamic currents of global reactivity and panic.

In the middle of the Arian controversy, the Roman emperor Valens had ordered imperial officers to subdue the new bishop (Basil the Great) through promises and threats. I love the intensity of his response because it shows the focus of a man set on a kingdom beyond political powers.

Basil responded,  “All that I have that you can confiscate are these rags and a few books. Nor can you exile me for wherever you send me, I shall be God’s guest. As to torture, you should know that my body is already dead in Christ. And death would be a great boon to me, leading me sooner to God. Taken aback, the prefect said that no one had ever spoken to him thus. Basil answered, “Perhaps that is because you have never met a true bishop” (Gonzalez 211).

That’s the goal. Honestly, I’m not there yet. In fact, over the past four or five years I have realized how much I’m like Eustace getting dragon skins stripped away. I’m dealing with anger, betrayal, unfaith, and disappointment at levels that have felt unbearable at times. America’s current political climate has revealed so much about my weak spots.

Yet like Gandalf told Frodo, we don’t get to choose the times we are given. And in His infinite wisdom, God placed me in the now. Amid thousands of dizzying news stories. Amid what those news stories reveal about the wounds of the church. Amid my own biases, and weaknesses, and fears.  

It’s too big for me. But I can at least take an honest look at where we are in time and name the forces that push on me. And I can also go back to the God who promises to be with me to the end of the age and say, “Hey, that promise you made about abiding in you or else I couldn’t do jack squat? I’m starting to see how real that is. Everything is crazy, and I keep messing up. Keep me afloat. Keep me close. Fill me up. If there’s something you want me to do, show me what it is and guide me as I try to follow. I’m weaker on my own than I ever realized, and the problems around me are larger than I could have imagined. Minefields everywhere, and meanwhile, I’m explosive. Slow me down. Help me focus where you want me to focus. Help me realize my limitations. Stop me from hacking off ears off with swords when I need to simply follow You to the cross.”