Jesus drops this bomb in John 14:6: “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” It’s not a suggestion. It’s not “try this one weird trick to find happiness” or some “cool life hacks.” It’s a straight-up claim: Follow Me or wander around like a drunk toddler in a mall parking lot.

And boy, did we wander.

We rejected the Way, so now we’re lost as hell. Metaphorically, spiritually, and yeah, literally. Our culture’s idea of direction is “follow your bliss,” which usually means microdosing mushrooms while ghosting your responsibilities and calling it “healing.”

We rejected the Truth, so now we live in a funhouse of lies so wild they’d make Pinocchio’s nose explode like a firework. Embryos? Not human, apparently. They’re just “clumps of cells” with unique DNA, beating hearts, and the audacity to grow into real live actual people. Men are women if they say so, and if you notice the biological reality staring you in the face, you’re an -ist of the worst variety. We don’t just tolerate the lie, we demand you applaud it, bake the cake for it, rewrite the sports records for it, and let it read to kindergarteners.

It’s like we looked at objective reality, said “lmao, cringe,” and voted to replace it with whatever makes the most people seethe on the internet. Truth isn’t a destination anymore, it’s whatever doesn’t hurt the current year’s feelings.

And the Life? Ha. We chose death with the enthusiasm of a Black Friday stampede. Abortion rates that treat unborn kids like inconvenient scheduling conflicts. “Assisted suicide” has been rebranded as compassionate end-of-life care, because nothing says “I support human dignity” like helping grandma check out when the medical bill gets too high. We’re so dedicated to death we even market it with pastel colors and therapists nodding sympathetically.

Meanwhile, millions are numb on antidepressants and opioids just to make it through the day in this utopia we built. The “right path” looks like record loneliness, collapsing birth rates, and people mainlining copium while insisting everything is fine. Does this feel like flourishing to anyone? Be honest. If Jesus came back today and saw what we did with the place, He’d probably flip more tables than He did at the temple. At least the money-changers weren’t pretending biological sex was a spectrum.
Look, you don’t have to be a Bible-thumping zealot to notice the pattern. Every time we drift from “love your neighbor, seek truth, choose life,” we end up with more anxiety, more division, more pharmaceutical bandaids on spiritual arterial bleeds. The data’s not even hiding it. Happiness surveys, mental health crises, fertility cliffs—it’s all there, screaming that maybe ditching the ancient wisdom for whatever TikTok philosophers and corporate pride months are selling wasn’t the flex we thought it was.
Jesus offered a narrow gate. We said nah, let’s bulldoze the whole thing and build a six-lane highway to wherever “be kind” and “my body my choice” lead when taken to their logical extremes. Spoiler: it’s not paradise. It’s just endless cope, surgical regret, and wondering why the kids are all on SSRIs.
If you’re out there feeling like none of this adds up—congrats, your firmware might still be factory-installed. The Way, the Truth, and the Life is still there, waiting. Not trending. Not rebranded. Just… true. In a world this committed to the bit, that might be the most radical thing left.