Twisted Truths: How Deception and Assumptions Mislead Us

“Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; for you I wait all the day long.” ~Psalm 25:5

Mark Twain is believed to have authored the saying, “It's easier to fool people than to convince them that they have been fooled.” Another very common expression is, “My mind is made up; don’t try to confuse me with the facts.” These statements reflect an unfortunate reality; once someone has been deceived and has come to believe a fallacious idea, it is much more difficult to present the truth of the matter – and have it accepted.

There are a number of reasons why this is so:

1. Cognitive bias: People will most likely cling to their beliefs and resist changing them, even when presented with evidence to the contrary. Cognitive bias makes it harder to convince someone that they have been deceived.

The reason for Cognitive bias and how it works stems from the idea that our brains are wired so as to believe the first thing they hear and is related to the concept of the illusory truth effect. This is the case whereby repeated information is more likely to be perceived as true−simply because it was repeated frequently−regardless of its actual accuracy. This effect is explained by the phenomenon of processing fluency, where familiarity leads us to assume something is accurate. An example of this is the statement often attributed to the Nazi Joseph Goebbels, and used in his propaganda campaign: “Repeat a lie often enough and it becomes the truth.” ^{Note: A}

2. Emotional attachments: Beliefs can be deeply intertwined with emotions, making it difficult to detach from them in order to accept a new reality.

3. Confirmation bias: People are more likely to seek out and pay attention to information that confirms their existing beliefs. This makes it easier to deceive them with tailored information.

4. Trust and authority: Deception can be more effective when presented by someone trusted or in a position of authority, as people are less likely to question their sources.

5. Denial and self-preservation: Being deceived can be a painful experience, so people may deny it to protect their pride or maintain a positive self-image.

I think it is important that we realize how easily we can be deceived and how firmly we can hang on to certain beliefs – despite all evidence to the contrary that could refute such beliefs. I think it important to be aware of and understand the power of deception once it takes hold; and we must be mindful of this as we form our beliefs and our overall world view. Pre-existing beliefs form the lens through which we will receive and judge any additional facts on any given subject and determine what we do with such information.

Recent history should make this age-old human dynamic painfully obvious. Consider the following examples and how we handle differences and treat one another amidst conflicting, pre-existing beliefs. Without getting into great details or attempting to promote a particular narrative, I will simply list a few recent topics and I’m certain most will be aware of the different strongly held beliefs surrounding each topic:

Covid,

Vaccines,

Mandatory masking,

Social distancing,

Closing churches,

Closing schools,

Gender identity,

Trump,

Mark Carney,

Pierre Poilievre

I picked the list I did because none of these topics would have been particularly divisive just a short time ago. Many people would not have even heard of them ten to fifteen years ago. All such topics, once introduced, were first announced in some manner and this is then followed by frequent narrative driven reporting in the media. Most of the views and beliefs (regarding these topics) that subsequently developed, would have been largely formed by what people were listening to. Repeated exposure to a consistently repeated narrative, served to strengthen public opinion. Often people did very little independent research on their own; instead, they allowed their beliefs to be shaped by their favourite “experts” and information sources. Once those beliefs were strongly formed, the opposing beliefs and views held by others (even among close friends and family) would be rejected and very often ridiculed – certainly they would rarely be thoughtfully considered.

We are all subject to this dynamic; therefore, in any search for objective truth, we all must be mindful of this possibility. When the facts (relevant to any particular subject), seem to be in conflict with our own preconceived beliefs, we should be prepared (temporarily at least) to set our own preconceived opinions aside and attempt to objectively evaluate the new information. This is as true about religious matters as it is about any other topic. However this step, in any search for objective truth, is the one that faces the greatest amount of resistance.

If one is serious about their study of Biblical topics, I believe they must be prepared to ask of them-self the question, “Has my study of scripture fallen victim to the presuppositions I have about this topic that I wish to examine?” Such presuppositions, in all likelihood, will colour just about everything you read as you study and interpret the text before you. This might mean that the text has not been correctly interpreted – for if the presupposition is faulty, the interpretation (based on the presupposition) will likely be faulty as well. This dynamic is especially the case when your pre-existing belief is what you want to see in the text; this is commonly referred to as confirmation bias.

When I grew up, one could say the doctrinal teaching I was exposed to, and the Christian environment I experienced, was homogeneous. Everyone believed essentially the same thing with very little variance. Such an environment is otherwise known as an “Echo chamber,” and it serves to greatly reinforce and validate the world-view of all those holding beliefs in common. Since I’ve become exposed to other denominational churches, groups and settings, I’ve come to recognize similar kinds of echo chambers in each one. So, while I may have thought the teachings I was exposed to and raised with were exactly what the Bible said—and would have readily argued the point that this was so—I did not realize my understanding of the Bible was constantly being filtered through a denominational lens. In fact this dynamic did not become evident until after I realized believers from other churches (denomination other than the one in which I was raised) often made very similar kinds of errors with respect to the dogma to which they held.

This was never more evident to me than when I began attending Bible study groups whose members came from Christian traditions and backgrounds that were different from my own. Suddenly it became very evident that though we were studying the same topic and reading from the same text, there were many times when there was very little agreement about the interpretation and meaning of what we’d just read. The understanding of the text seemed very much related to the pre-existing, tradition or denominational belief the person held coming into the study. (Of course, I include myself as coming in with my own pre-existing beliefs as well.)

Unless you are aware of beliefs, which you have already formed relative to any subject, those beliefs could (and sometimes do) become an obstacle to comprehending the actual text—the data in front of you. It is therefore important to be mindful of what beliefs you’ve chosen to bring with you into any study… and yes, it is a choice.

When it comes to a variety of views about different subjects and doctrines, Christians are not a homogeneous group. Within the broader Christian community there exist a number of controversial views and ideas that encompass doctrinal beliefs about various things – topics from the distant past, the present time and the future to come. Amongst Christians today, a number of Biblical scholars have said that nothing is more contentious than the so called “Millennium” and associated end-times views.

Even though there is general agreement in Christ’s promised return – His second coming. Beyond that there are differences as to what/how this will be. Because of the disagreements, there is a stated agreement that these various end-times views are not a core belief or central to the Christian message. They do however; have a tremendous impact on associated world views. This is particularly true of Dispensational pre-millennialism and the so-called “Rapture of the church.”

This particular view, held by many identifying as “Evangelicals” and including many influential folks in government, can be seen to have a direct effect on the foreign policy of their country. It might even be said that on these issues there has become an unhealthy/dangerous blending of church and state. Has this been a good thing? I think not but I’ll leave it to the reader to decide.

______________________________

Note: A. The full quote is: “If you tell a lie big enough and keep repeating it, people will eventually come to believe it. The lie can be maintained only for such time as the State can shield the people from the political, economic, and/or military consequences of the lie. It thus becomes vitally important for the State to use all of its powers to repress dissent, for the truth is the mortal enemy of the lie, and thus by extension, the truth is the greatest enemy of the State.” ~ usually attributed to Joseph Goebbles

Is Anyone Beyond Redemption?

After walking away from religion and turning my back on the God I had been taught about as a boy, I had no idea how—or even if—I could return. I had not simply drifted away; for many years I remained deliberately distant. For a significant portion of that time, I was openly antagonistic toward religion and toward belief in God altogether.

This state lasted for quite some time before a slow transformation began—one I did not recognize at first. Even now, I find it difficult to pinpoint exactly when my views started to change.

After wrestling with the question of God’s existence, and eventually concluding that He was more than an impersonal cosmic force or energy, a new concern emerged: had I forfeited any chance I might have had for redemption? My greatest fear became whether I had gone beyond the “point of no return.” Looking back now, I can see that despite my doubts and anxieties, the Holy Spirit was already at work, drawing me toward God. That inner longing for reconciliation and redemption did not originate with me; it was something being stirred within me.

From previous teaching, I knew it was said that God forgives our “transgressions” when we ask Him. But after so many years away? In my heart, I questioned whether His forgiveness could really extend that far. I knew that no amount of restitution, penance, or moral improvement could erase my past or make me right with God. At times, I truly wondered if I was beyond redemption and whether there was any point in even trying. Yet despite these doubts, I still felt a pull—a longing that is difficult to put into words.

Eventually, after several years of studying and praying on my own, I felt drawn to seek Christian fellowship. At first I resisted, but in time I swallowed my pride and began attending a church—one from a different denomination than the one I had left years earlier. Before long, I became involved in some of the church’s activities and genuinely enjoyed them. Still, I did not experience any clear sense that my prayers were being heard. I once described it to a Christian friend by saying, “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like there’s anyone listening on the other end of my prayers.” Often it felt as though my prayers went no further than the ceiling. Yet I continued to study and pray, compelled not by emotion, but by decision.

Many of my friends could describe a specific moment when they believed they had been saved. They would sometimes ask me if—or when—I had been saved. My honest answer was that I wasn’t sure. I wanted to accept Christ and be saved, and more than once I had prayed what is commonly called the “sinner’s prayer.” But had I done enough? Should I try harder? I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel or think, nor did I know what else to do. As much as I wanted assurance that I had done everything required, I simply didn’t understand how one truly accepts and surrenders oneself to Christ. Thankfully, God is patient. He did not give up on me; He kept me engaged and continued drawing me closer, even though I did not yet recognize that He was directing the process.

Over time, this process gradually moved my beliefs from my head to my heart. My thoughts, attitudes, and desires began to change. This, I believe, is the work of the Holy Spirit—work that neither I nor anyone else can accomplish on our own. It is a work we must allow Him to do within us. This, I came to understand, is the nature of faith.

Some time later, I encountered a small booklet titled Steps to Christ, which described the very process I had been experiencing. Several passages articulated my struggle with remarkable clarity:

“The warfare against self is the greatest battle that was ever fought. The yielding of self, surrendering all to the will of God, requires a struggle; but the soul must submit to God before it can be renewed in holiness.”

Another passage challenged my assumptions about submission and freedom:

“The government of God is not, as Satan would make it appear, founded upon a blind submission… God does not force the will of His creatures… He desires that man… shall reach the highest possible development… It remains for us to choose whether we will be set free from the bondage of sin, to share the glorious liberty of the sons of God.” (p. 43)

A passage beginning on page 47 was especially reassuring, as it echoed my own fears and uncertainties:

“Many are inquiring, ‘How am I to make the surrender of myself to God?’… You cannot change your heart… but you can choose to serve Him. You can give Him your will; He will then work in you…”

As I reflected on this, I realized that it ultimately comes down to a decision—a simple but profound choice. Joshua 24:15 states, “…choose you this day whom you will serve.” One does not need to feel a certain way in order to choose, but choose one must. Feelings and actions often follow the decision rather than precede it.

This realization reminded me of Paul’s defense before King Agrippa. After recounting his conversion and ministry, Paul appealed directly to Agrippa, reasoning that a man familiar with the prophets could not reasonably reject Jesus. Agrippa’s response—“Almost you persuade me to be a Christian”—reveals that he clearly recognized the choice before him. Though unpersuaded, he understood that a decision was required.

Continuing to read Steps to Christ, I came across another passage that further clarified this truth:

“Through the right exercise of the will, an entire change may be made in your life… Do not wait to feel that you are made whole, but say, ‘I believe it; it is so, not because I feel it, but because God has promised.’” (pp. 49)

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Is Anyone Beyond Redemption? (Part 2)

Have you ever looked forward to something that was promised to you conditionally? Growing up, I remember being promised rewards based on report cards or good behavior. Sometimes I succeeded and received the reward; other times I failed and lost it. I learned quickly that once I failed, the promise was gone. There was no recovery—only the possibility of making matters worse. Rewards, I learned, were performance-based.

In church, a similar idea prevailed: “If you’re good, you go to heaven; if you’re bad, you don’t.” There seemed to be a broad consensus that everything depended on behavior. Over time, this understanding shaped both my religious life and my adult worldview—often unconsciously and with negative consequences. I now refer to the faith I knew as a child as a performance-based religion. When performance becomes central, even our sense of being accepted, approved, or loved becomes tied to what we do rather than who we are.

Old habits—and old mental “tapes”—are difficult to silence. This became evident soon after I recommitted my life to Christ. Though I understood intellectually that salvation comes by grace alone, I quickly fell back into familiar patterns. I began to focus once again on my religious performance, fearing failure and imagining that God’s blessings depended on flawless obedience. I knew this approach was impossible, yet it was deeply ingrained. Like losing promised rewards as a child, I feared that failure would cause God to withdraw His blessings.

As failure inevitably came, it was quickly followed by discouragement and despair. Thoughts like Why even try? or This is too hard became overwhelming. Ironically, instead of peace, my renewed faith initially brought anxiety—an anxiety rooted in fear of failure.

Relief began to come as I learned more about God’s nature. He is not a punitive God waiting for us to fail. He already knows our weaknesses and shortcomings. He desires our commitment, our surrender, and our willingness to allow His Spirit to work within us. When we fail, we are called to acknowledge it, seek forgiveness, and continue forward under the Spirit’s guidance.

Paul addresses this very struggle in Galatians 3:1–5, challenging believers who attempt to complete by human effort what God began by grace. The Message translation captures this sharply, reminding us that attempting to perfect ourselves through effort alone is not only futile—it’s irrational.

At some point, I realized I needed to move from being a “recovering Christian” to a “Christian in recovery.” While away from church, I had not been burdened by endless lists of rules. Yet once I returned, the old tapes resumed playing, filling me with judgment—both toward myself and others. Left unchecked, this mindset threatened to leave me perpetually discouraged and spiritually stalled. Discouragement drains hope and is a tool often used against us—though we are quite adept at wielding it against ourselves.

Steps to Christ addresses this dynamic clearly:

“There are those who profess to serve God, while they rely upon their own efforts to obey His law… Such religion is worth nothing… A profession of Christ without this deep love is mere talk, dry formality, and heavy drudgery.” (p. 44)

Understanding God’s grace, mercy, and forgiveness has brought relief and freedom into my life. Though the old tapes still surface at times, I am learning not to let them define me. Instead, I seek God daily, pray often, ask forgiveness when I stumble, and remain alert to destructive patterns of thought.

There are no “do-overs” in life—we can only move forward. Guilt, regret, and despair have no power to heal. The path to freedom has already been given, and when we walk it, we discover that no one—truly no one—is beyond redemption.

 

Originally published March 2013 - Revised January 2026 

Rules, Laws, and the Nature of Sin

 Childhood Questions and Early Assumptions:

As a youngster, I frequently asked questions such as, “Why can’t I ___?” or “What’s wrong with ___?” These questions inevitably arose whenever I was prevented from doing something I wanted to do. I was hardly unique in this; many children in my peer group asked similar questions. While it is common—especially for children—to argue, rationalize, or even manipulate in order to get one’s way, such questions cannot simply be dismissed as immature defiance. They raise important issues and deserve closer attention.

As a child of the 1950s, I was shaped not only by a religious upbringing but also by the prevailing social attitudes of that era. The post-war decade was marked by restlessness and movement, as people searched for stability and meaning. Increasing affluence fueled a boom in materialism, yet paradoxically this same period saw significant growth in religious engagement. In the United States, for example, the percentage of people identifying with a church rose from roughly half the population in 1950 to well over two-thirds by 1960. This era is often described as a time of conformity: society was largely law-abiding, and most citizens accepted both the moral and legal expectations of the culture.

From these two powerful influences—strict religious teaching and strong civil norms—my earliest understanding of rules, laws, and sin took shape. Within this framework, nearly all human behaviour, whether action or inaction, could be neatly classified as right or wrong, lawful or sinful. Only much later did I begin to question this paradigm and recognize its inherent problems. When taken on its own, such an approach can foster a worldview that is divisive, restrictive, and ultimately legalistic.

At the heart of this essay is a simple claim: while laws may restrain behaviour, they cannot transform the human heart, which is the true source of sin.

Law, Freedom, and Human Failure

If we attempt to explain all societal problems, moral decay, and spiritual brokenness solely as the result of insufficient laws—or of people failing to obey those laws—we are doomed to repeat the same failures. We often describe ourselves as “free,” yet modern societies are governed by an immense and ever-growing body of laws and regulations. While exact numbers are debated, there is little doubt that the scope of legal regulation in contemporary Western nations is enormous. Despite this abundance of laws, new situations constantly arise that fall outside existing statutes, prompting the familiar cry: “There ought to be a law!”

This raises an important theological and philosophical question: how did humanity move from a single divine command to such an overwhelming proliferation of rules?

From One Command to Many Laws

According to the biblical creation account, humanity was endowed with free will and given only one explicit prohibition, along with a clear warning about the consequences of disobedience. The movement from that single command to countless laws and regulations stands as a sobering commentary on human nature. The biblical narrative portrays this trajectory as the result of humanity’s decision to disregard God’s instruction.

Following the fall, Scripture describes a rapid moral deterioration. Prior to the flood, Genesis records that “every inclination of the thoughts of the human heart was only evil all the time.”¹ After the flood, and before the giving of the Mosaic Law at Mount Sinai, Jewish tradition speaks of the Seven Laws of Noah, commonly called the Noachide Laws. These laws, preserved in rabbinic literature, are understood as minimal moral obligations binding upon all humanity.

Traditionally enumerated, these seven laws call for:

·         the acknowledgment of one supreme God,

·         reverence for the Creator,

·         respect for human life,

·         fidelity within marriage,

·         honesty in matters of property and commerce,

·         compassion toward God’s creatures, and

·         the maintenance of justice through lawful governance.

Rabbinic teaching holds that those who accept these obligations are considered righteous among the nations and are granted a share in the world to come, while Israel, by contrast, is bound to the full corpus of the Torah’s 613 commandments.²

 

The Limits of Legal Obedience

History shows, however, that even rigorous law-keeping does not eliminate sin. The Gospels portray Jewish teachers who prided themselves on meticulous obedience to the Law, yet whose hearts remained unchanged. Jesus sharply criticized such legalism, warning that it could obstruct rather than open the way to God’s kingdom.³ Despite their devotion to the law, these same teachers accused Jesus of being a lawbreaker.

The pattern is telling: humanity moved from one command to seven, from seven to ten, and from ten to hundreds more. Modern societies have multiplied laws even further. This is not to say that laws are unnecessary. On the contrary, laws serve an essential purpose in restraining evil and protecting the vulnerable. Yet no system of regulations—no matter how comprehensive—can address every possible human motive or eliminate sin at its root.

Even if universal agreement could be reached on a complete moral code, and even if every person complied outwardly with that code, the deeper problem of sin would remain unresolved. Regulation can restrain behaviour, but it cannot transform the human heart.

The Origin of Sin: Pride Before Action

Any serious exploration of sin must therefore look beyond external acts to their inner source. Traditionally, passages such as Isaiah 14 and Ezekiel 28 have been understood as describing the fall of Satan. These texts portray a created being who was originally blameless but became corrupted through pride, ambition, and self-exaltation.⁴ Before any outward rebellion occurred, sin first took shape internally—in the heart and mind.

The same pattern appears in the temptation of humanity in the Garden of Eden. The serpent did not appeal primarily to physical appetite but to pride, autonomy, and distrust of God. By questioning God’s command and casting doubt on His warning, the temptation shifted the focus from obedience to self-exaltation. The forbidden act followed an inward decision to distrust God, believe the deceiver, and desire what was not rightfully theirs.

Sin, then, was born internally before it was expressed externally. The act mattered, but it flowed from a deeper rupture in trust and allegiance.

Sin as Condition, Not Merely Behaviour

This understanding reshapes how we interpret those childhood questions—“What’s wrong with it?” If sin is reduced to “doing bad things,” then moral reasoning naturally focuses on the act itself. In that framework, objects or behaviours can appear to possess moral qualities of their own. Yet Scripture consistently points to the human heart as the true source of wrongdoing.

As Oswald Chambers observed, failing to reckon honestly with the reality of sin leads to self-deception and compromise. Unless we recognize the depth of the problem, we will underestimate its power and overestimate our ability to overcome it through effort alone.⁵

Human beings are undeniably capable of terrible evil, and laws are necessary to restrain such behaviour. But history demonstrates that external controls are required precisely because internal self-governance is lacking. What humanity needs is not merely better regulation, but transformation.

The Biblical Meaning of the Heart

Scripture speaks repeatedly of the need for a “new heart.” Through the prophet Ezekiel, God promises to remove the heart of stone and replace it with a heart of flesh.⁶ This imagery invites reflection on what the Bible means by “heart.”

In modern Western usage, the heart is often associated primarily with emotion, contrasted with the mind or intellect. Biblical usage, however, is far broader. In both the Old and New Testaments, the heart refers to the core of the person—the inner center from which thoughts, desires, intentions, and decisions flow. It encompasses emotion, intellect, and will.

Because the heart deliberates, plans, and chooses, Scripture places great emphasis on guarding it. “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.”⁷ Evil actions are repeatedly traced back to inward dispositions rather than external circumstances.⁸

Why a New Heart Is Necessary

If sin were merely a matter of behaviour, then moral reform alone would suffice. Yet Scripture teaches that sin has corrupted the human heart itself. External conformity, no matter how rigorous, cannot heal an internal condition. This is why Jesus taught that righteousness exceeding that of the scribes and Pharisees is required to enter the kingdom of heaven—a righteousness rooted in purity of heart, not merely in outward compliance.⁹

The promise of salvation, then, is not the imposition of a more demanding legal code, but the gift of a transformed heart. “With the heart one believes and is justified.”¹⁰ God alone can accomplish this transformation, creating new desires, new motives, and new life within us.

The greatest commandment reflects this truth: to love God with all one’s heart is not merely an emotional response, but a wholehearted reorientation of the inner self. When the heart is made right, behaviour follows.

Conclusion

Laws are necessary, but they are not sufficient. They restrain evil, reveal wrongdoing, and protect society, yet they cannot cure the disease of sin. Sin originates not in actions alone, but in the human heart. The biblical answer to humanity’s moral failure is therefore not an ever-expanding system of rules, but a radical inner transformation. We do not need more laws; we need new hearts.

Endnotes

1.        Genesis 6:5 (NIV).

2.        Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 56a–59b.

3.        Matthew 23:13 (NIV).

4.        Isaiah 14:12–14; Ezekiel 28:15–17. See traditional Christian interpretations.

5.        Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest.

6.        Ezekiel 36:26 (NIV).

7.        Proverbs 4:23 (NIV).

8.        Mark 7:21–23 (ESV).

9.        Matthew 5:8, 20 (NIV).

10.     Romans 10:10 (NIV).

 

  - Originally Published August 2016 and revised January 2026