Discussion Questions

David Bercot argues that Jesus’ prohibition of oaths was not merely about avoiding misuse of God’s name but about creating “one standard” of truthfulness; what specific kinds of everyday speech and commitments would have to change if “let your yes be yes” became the normal Christian default rather than a special “under oath” mode? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If Christians always spoke with the same honesty as they would “under oath,” what everyday promises, excuses, and half-truths would need to change? What would “let your yes be yes” look like in daily life?

In the Levi-and-the-gold-ring illustration, oaths function because people assume ordinary words are unreliable; what does that story expose about the social “technology” ancient societies used to make commerce work, and what would it look like for a Christian community to become the alternative to that system through trustworthiness alone? JumpstartAnother way to ask: In the story about Levi and the gold ring, what does it show about why people used oaths to make buying and selling work? What would it look like if a Christian community could do business just by being trusted?

Jesus ties citizenship in His kingdom to being “of the truth,” and Bercot says “a love of truth must permeate every fiber of our souls”; what do you think it means for truthfulness to be an identity marker rather than merely a rule, and what parts of church culture most resist that kind of deep, Spirit-shaped honesty? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What would it mean for being truthful to be part of who you are, not just a rule you follow? What parts of church life fight against that kind of deep honesty?

Bercot lists ways professing Christians mirror the world—tax cheating, lying to employers, worthless checks, skipping town on bills—and then adds his own experience that the only clients who cheated him were “very vocal” Christians; what might “vocal Christianity” be substituting for, and how should that anecdote confront the way we judge maturity and credibility in believers? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If the people who cheated Bercot were loud about being Christians, what might their “vocal Christianity” be covering up? How should that change how we judge who is mature or trustworthy?

The Cornerstone exposé of Mike Warnock triggered angry letters that appealed to “Christ is preached” and “lift him up rather than condemning”; what assumptions about evangelistic fruit, forgiveness, and “not judging” are driving those reactions, and how do those assumptions collide with Bercot’s insistence that repentance doesn’t mean sweeping fraud “under the rug”? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Why do some people respond to fraud by saying “at least Christ is preached” or “don’t judge”? How does that clash with the idea that real repentance means admitting wrong and not hiding it?

In the publishing examples (Crying Wind, Satan’s Underground), publishers withdrew books yet reassigned rights elsewhere, and exaggerated miracle/testimony stories kept circulating; what do these examples suggest about incentives in the Christian marketplace, and how should “kingdom people” decide what they will buy, promote, platform, or refuse—even when the stories feel inspiring? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What do these publishing stories show about what gets rewarded in the Christian market, even when stories are stretched or false? How should Christians decide what to buy, share, or promote, even if it feels inspiring?

Bercot says institutional Christianity fosters a “culture of dishonesty…from the top to the bottom”; what concrete practices in churches and ministries (fundraising, reporting numbers, storytelling, branding) tempt people to shape reality, and where do you see the line between normal persuasion and “purposeful dishonesty”? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What church or ministry habits (fundraising, counting results, telling stories, branding) tempt people to bend the truth? Where is the line between normal persuasion and intentional dishonesty?

He describes altar-call “plants” used to increase responses and calls it “the end justifies the means,” then asks, “Do you think Jesus planted fakes among his audiences?” How does that question challenge common evangelical assumptions about “results,” and what would it cost a church or ministry to reject manipulation even if it meant fewer visible decisions? JumpstartAnother way to ask: How does the question “Did Jesus plant fake responders?” challenge the idea that big results matter most? What would a church lose or risk by refusing manipulation, even if fewer people respond?

In the healing-crusade wheelchair scenarios, Bercot distinguishes between genuine healing, ambiguous situations (people who can walk but use wheelchairs), and outright fraud (preselected walkers, Popov’s earpiece); what standards of verification, public correction, and transparency would love of truth require from Christians who claim healings today—and what fears keep churches from demanding those standards? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If someone claims healings today, what kind of proof, openness, and public corrections should Christians require out of love for truth? What fears keep churches from asking for that kind of honesty?

Near the end, Bercot claims miracles have “no probative value” for someone’s standing with Christ, yet “bogus miracles clearly prove” Christ is not behind that ministry because “Christ never works through corruption and deception”; how should that reshape the way you evaluate ministries that seem powerful, and what does it reveal about God’s character and priorities—that the “means” matter to Him as much as the “ends”? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If miracles don’t prove someone is close to Christ, but fake miracles show Christ isn’t behind that ministry, how should that change how you judge “powerful” ministries? What does it say about God that the way things are done matters as much as the results?