Our finitude and fear will never be assuaged by trusting in secret knowledge and shadowy actors. Our hearts will find purchase only in the truth of the God Who reveals Himself in grace.

I was in college when I encountered my first real conspiracy theory from a real person who really believed it. It was during a street evangelism session at Moody Bible Institute. After the session, I approached a bystander and asked what he thought of the presentation. Ten minutes later my head was reeling. The fellow had lots of thoughts about the Bible that sounded like Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code, Bart Ehrman’s writings, and a few tabloids thrown in a blender. As a Bible student studying textual transmission, I knew this guy was off his rocker, and I tried to engage rationally. But he was a believer. He had it all worked out. Nothing I could say would change his mind.

What struck me about the exchange was the impenetrability of this man’s theories. No matter what I said, he always had a rebuttal. How did I know that my sources were stronger than his sources, that my evidence was more robust than his? Especially when his own theory felt so coherent to him.

Conspiracy theories have been around a long time. But they have surfaced with a vengeance in recent years, serving up a counter narrative to the official explanations for all sorts of things. Conspiracy theories are fringe beliefs but have become increasingly popularized and believed by average voters, citizens, and—important for our purposes—church members.

What’s a Conspiracy Theory Anyway?

A recent article defines a conspiracy theory as a “secret plot by two or more powerful actors … [who] attempt to usurp political or economic power, violate rights, infringe upon established agreements, withhold vital secrets, or alter bedrock institutions.” These are theories about “what’s really going on” in the world and serve as explanations to the complex and frightening problems in our society.

Conspiracy theories have often maintained a fringe, tinfoil-hat aura (“Did we really land on the moon?”). Yet they entered the mainstream in recent years. As our society has become increasingly politically polarized, conspiracy theories seem to have become more and more prevalent. This is problematic not merely for society at large but also for churches.

What motivates belief in conspiracy theories? Three reasons seem likely.

First, conspiracy theories offer simple solutions to complex problems.

If you’ve ever gone down the rabbit hole, you know that conspiracy theories aren’t simple. They weave, bob, and make wide-ranging connections between events and persons. It can be a nightmare to keep up with all the pieces. Yet all the disparate pieces mask a desire to find a central reason for events that feel shockingly out of control. What’s easier to believe: that a virus mutated and entered the human viral ecosystem, leading to worldwide devastation with no end in sight? Or that a cabal of nefarious geniuses constructed and weaponized the virus? It depends. The latter solution has a clear villain, someone we can hold accountable, an enemy we can defeat. The former is just uncontrolled tragedy. Conspiracy theories boil down otherwise chaotic events into single causes, which are easier for the human brain to accept and digest.

Second, conspiracy theories provide empowering narratives for the powerless.

Why exactly has QAnon, for example, gained purchase among so many? Conspiracy theories provide a narrative that empowers those who feel vulnerable, victimized, or marginalized by society. Adrienne LaFrance noted in her article “The Prophecies of Q” that such people “see themselves as victim-warriors fighting against corrupt and powerful forces.” Such ideas give people something to get behind and get excited about. They give a sense of power to those who feel increasingly powerless.

Third, conspiracy theories provide hope. The world is a frightening place.

While we hold many of our eschatological beliefs for good exegetical and theological reasons, it’s also true that eschatology is (at least at a popular level) informed by our perception of the state of the world. Consider the fertile ground that the 20th and early 21st centuries have provided for premillennial dispensationalism: the enthusiastic optimism of the Enlightenment was squashed by world wars, a holocaust, the threat of nuclear annihilation, terrorism, and on and on. In this context, the idea of a cataclysmic end culminating in the return of Christ makes good sense!

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