Think about this for a moment.
Your mind, your soul—somehow, through the fog of propaganda, censorship, and cultural rot—cut clean through the lies. Decades of deception. A multi-trillion-dollar machine engineered to manipulate thought, rewrite history, and erase reality. An empire with infinite resources, infinite reach, and infinite audacity to tell you that up is down and wrong is right.
And yet… you saw through it.
That alone is extraordinary. But what’s even more powerful? You spoke. You didn’t just whisper the truth in private—you shouted it when it was dangerous to speak. You risked your livelihood, your reputation, your peace. You knew they’d come for you. You knew they’d smear you, cancel you, isolate you.
And still, you didn’t back down.
They tried to bury us. To silence us. To crush the spirit of anyone who refused to bow to the new gods of this age—comfort, conformity, and cowardice. But here we are. Not just surviving—thriving. Our numbers are growing every day. Our voices are getting louder. And the lies are cracking under the weight of truth.
This isn’t luck. This isn’t coincidence. This is the hand of Almighty God.
Because truth isn’t fragile. It doesn’t die in darkness—it rises. It outlasts tyrants, outshines the smear campaigns, and outlives every tool they deploy against it. The fact that we’re still here is proof of that. Proof that no matter how hard they try, they cannot kill what is eternal.
We live in an age where the powerful command obedience not by reason, but by ridicule. Speak against their narratives, and the gatekeepers descend: “You’re crazy.” “You’re hateful.” “You’re dangerous.” They sling every label they can muster, not to engage but to isolate, to shame, to cow the dissenters.
Just this week, psychologist Jordan Peterson appeared on Joe Rogan’s podcast. Rather than engage with the arguments of those Rogan has recently welcomed—many of whom have raised critical questions about the modern nation state of Israel and its powerful influence on culture, government, and foreign policy—Peterson chose a simpler route: smear and dismiss.
Rather than offer counterpoints or evidence, he branded this group as “psychopaths” for daring to think differently on a contentious subject. No rebuttal to their claims. No engagement with their arguments. Just an insistent push to paint them as crazy—another layer in the well-worn tactic of reducing legitimate criticism to mental illness, and refusing dialogue by decree.
This is nothing new. Speak against the reigning dogmas, and the credentialed gatekeepers descend. They hurl every label in the book, not to foster discussion but to shame and isolate those who raise uncomfortable questions. Why, you might ask, are they so eager to silence? Beneath all the noise and accusation, it’s not outrage or reason driving them—but fear. Fear that we are right, because we are.
“For the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God.” — 1 Corinthians 3:19
What truly keeps them up at night is the possibility that the foundation beneath their feet is not rock, but shifting sand—and the tide is coming in. Jesus warned of this: “Everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.” (Matthew 7:26-27).
It’s easy to believe—especially in our modern era of polls and public consensus—that history is made by the majority. But reality shows us something else entirely: it’s almost always the passionate, principled minority who shift the world’s direction. Scripture overflows with examples: Gideon’s 300 against tens of thousands (Judges 7), David alone on the battlefield when Israel cowered (1 Samuel 17), the prophets like Jeremiah and Elijah standing nearly alone as their nations slid into idolatry and decay.
History repeats this same pattern outside the pages of Scripture. The American Revolution wasn’t fueled by a unanimous colonial population; most estimates suggest only about a third of the colonists genuinely supported independence, with many neutral and many loyal to the Crown. Yet it was the fire of that committed minority—their resolve in the face of opposition and ridicule—that birthed a new nation.
The early church, too, began as a small, powerless group of ordinary men and women. Yet through courage, conviction, and the willingness to speak truth no matter the cost, they turned the Roman Empire upside down. Jesus warned us: “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.” (Matthew 7:13-14) The narrow road is always walked by the few, not the many.
So often today, dissent is suppressed with an appeal to credentials. “You’re not qualified.” “You’re just a conspiracy theorist.” “Trust the experts.” But truth is not reserved for a priestly class. It isn’t the possession of those with the right degrees or pedigrees. We see this in Scripture: “When they saw the courage of Peter and John and realized that they were unschooled, ordinary men, they were astonished and took note that these men had been with Jesus.” (Acts 4:13) Truth requires neither credentials nor permission. It is a primal scream from the soul—unfiltered, urgent, and unashamed. Anyone can speak it, and everyone must. Once you see it, you cannot unsee it. And once you voice it, you encourage others to do the same.
We were sold a sterile, synthetic dream: own nothing, say nothing, believe nothing real, and feel nothing that hasn’t been approved. Comfort was promised, and spiritual and social collapse delivered. Question the narrative? Immediately labeled as “dangerous.” In one important way, they’re right. We are dangerous—dangerous to lies, to illusions, to fragile systems built on deception rather than reality. “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” (John 8:32) And free people cannot be easily managed or manipulated.
We press on, not because it’s easy, but because it’s worth it. The truth matters. As Paul wrote: “We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.” (2 Corinthians 4:8-9) You cannot intimidate someone who has died to himself, or cancel someone who doesn’t live for the world’s applause. As long as we root ourselves in something eternal, those who try to silence truth will always lose. They fight spiritual realities with political weapons—labels, shame, gatekeeping. “For the weapons of our warfare are not the weapons of the world. Instead, they have divine power to demolish strongholds.” (2 Corinthians 10:4)
We do not respond with bitterness or violence, but with courageous hope and unshakeable conviction. Our mandate is not popularity, but faithfulness—“For we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard.” (Acts 4:20)
So take heart. You don’t need permission to tell the truth. You don’t need the world’s seal of approval. Speak, stand, and let the truth ring out—unapologetic, unfiltered, uncancellable.
You are dangerous—to lies, to cowardice, to falsehood.
In this hour, that is exactly what the world needs.
Andrew Torba
CEO, Gab AI Inc
Christ is King
