Spend five minutes on social media and you’ll see it. A distant relative posts a cryptic meme about microchips and the mark of the beast. An old church friend confidently declares that Snopes is fake news while linking to an anonymous blog as proof.
It’s not just a few outliers. Study after study confirms that Christians—particularly evangelicals—are more likely than most to engage with and spread misinformation. A 2021 American Enterprise Institute study found that white evangelicals were the most likely religious group to believe conspiracy theories like QAnon. A 2019 Pew Research study showed that frequent churchgoers were significantly more likely to share false or misleading stories on Facebook.
Ask these same Christians if they value truth, and they’ll say yes without hesitation. They follow Jesus, who literally called himself the truth. The Bible warns against deception and condemns spreading falsehoods. So why do so many well-meaning believers end up amplifying misinformation?
The answer isn’t simple, but it’s not a mystery either. It’s not that Christians want to be misled. It’s that certain habits, biases, and cultural instincts have made them especially vulnerable. The more the church leans into misinformation, the harder it becomes to have meaningful conversations about actual truth. That credibility gap is already pushing younger generations away, and if it keeps widening, it won’t just be a bad look—it’ll be a full-blown crisis.
The Deep Distrust Problem
Evangelicalism has always had a complicated relationship with authority. The same culture that champions personal faith and direct access to God has also fostered deep suspicion of secular institutions. Many Christians have been raised to believe mainstream media, public schools, and Hollywood are actively working against their beliefs. That automatic distrust has created an instinct: if something comes from a mainstream source, it must be biased. If it comes from an alternative source that sounds Christian, it must be true.
It’s not hard to see how this plays out. A national news outlet debunks a popular claim about religious persecution? That’s proof of a cover-up. A Christian influencer with no background in journalism posts a vague warning about an attack on faith? That’s worth sharing. The result is a feedback loop where skepticism is only applied to one side, and anything that challenges a Christian worldview is dismissed before it’s even considered.
Some of that skepticism isn’t unfounded. Bias exists in the media. Mistrust in institutions didn’t develop out of nowhere. But when skepticism turns into a blanket rejection of reliable sources, it doesn’t create more discernment—it creates more gullibility.
Why Fear Wins
Misinformation spreads because it plays on emotion, and for many Christians, emotions have long been tied to belief. Modern Christian culture is built around urgency—the idea that the world is changing fast, faith is under attack, and believers need to stay vigilant. Many have been raised on sermons warning about the End Times, culture wars, and the dangers of secular influence.
That kind of framing primes people to expect the worst. A headline about pastors being arrested for preaching the Bible? Seems plausible. A claim that the government is secretly implanting tracking devices? Feels like something straight out of Left Behind. Once an idea confirms existing fears, it’s easy to accept and hard to question.
And that’s exactly how misinformation works. It doesn’t thrive on logic—it thrives on outrage, anxiety, and gut reactions. When a story makes someone feel angry, threatened, or vindicated, they’re far more likely to share it without stopping to fact-check. Social media algorithms capitalize on this, prioritizing the most emotionally charged content, which means misinformation spreads faster and wider than the truth.
The Problem with “Discernment”
Many Christians pride themselves on being discerning. The Bible warns about false teachers, so believers are trained to question what they hear. But too often, what passes for discernment is just confirmation bias in disguise. If a story aligns with a Christian worldview, it’s trusted. If it challenges a belief, it’s dismissed.
That’s not critical thinking—it’s cherry-picking. True discernment requires being willing to question everything, not just the things that seem threatening. It means recognizing that “doing your own research” doesn’t mean watching a two-hour YouTube video or trusting a Twitter thread over expert consensus.
There’s also a cultural tendency to equate skepticism with wisdom. If someone questions a widely accepted fact, they’re not being misled—they’re “thinking for themselves.” But real wisdom isn’t just about questioning authority. It’s about recognizing credible sources, weighing evidence, and being open to correction. That’s something the church has struggled with, and it’s a big reason why misinformation finds such a stronghold.
The Cost of Getting It Wrong
It’s tempting to brush all this off as harmless. Who cares if someone shares a post about Starbucks hating Christmas? But misinformation doesn’t just stay online—it shapes public perception, fuels division, and has real-world consequences.
Look at how misinformation shaped the COVID-19 pandemic. Many Christians became some of the loudest voices questioning vaccines, masks, and public health measures—not necessarily out of malice, but because they were primed to distrust official narratives. Misinformation about election fraud has also been widely embraced in Christian circles, creating further polarization and skepticism of democratic processes.
Younger generations are watching all of this unfold, and many aren’t impressed. The more they see Christians uncritically sharing falsehoods, the harder it becomes to take the church seriously on any issue, much less faith. If Christians claim to care about truth but don’t seem interested in facts, why would anyone believe them about deeper spiritual matters? The credibility gap isn’t just a problem—it’s a crisis of integrity.
What Needs to Change
If Christians want to be known as people of truth, they have to care about all truth, not just the parts that support their beliefs. That means checking sources before sharing, questioning emotional reactions, and being open to the idea that sometimes, the information that feels good to believe just isn’t true.
That doesn’t mean blind trust in mainstream narratives. Healthy skepticism is a good thing. But skepticism isn’t just about rejecting everything that sounds inconvenient—it’s about being able to recognize when something doesn’t hold up.
It also means shifting how the church talks about truth. Faith should be a place where people ask hard questions and wrestle with different perspectives, not just a place where people get easy answers. Real faith can handle scrutiny. It doesn’t need misinformation to prop it up.
None of this will change overnight. The habits that made misinformation a Christian problem weren’t built in a day, and they won’t be undone quickly. But if the church wants to be a voice worth listening to, it can’t afford to keep getting this wrong. Because a faith that can’t separate fact from fiction isn’t just ineffective—it’s irrelevant.
