Reality in Ruins: How Conspiracy Theory Became an American Evangelical Crisis

by Jared Stacy

For concerned citizens and anyone who's lost relationships because of conspiracy theories, a historian and theologian explores why paranoia happens, its unique entanglement with evangelicalism, and how to cope in today's culture of "fake news" and "alternative facts."

Conspiracy theories are at the root of the most pressing political problems of our time, yet their influence cuts just as personal. Suspicion has fractured families, communities, churches, and our very social fabric, as one person’s fact is another’s fake news.

Conspiracism curates a functional reality for millions today, and those who love them are often felt reeling in the “living loss” of losing them down the rabbit hole of “doing their own research.” How did we get here? And how can we possibly live here—as concerned citizens who want more for our relationships, our faith traditions, our country, our world?

In Reality in Ruins, Dr. Jared Stacy braves the untold history of conspiracism in American evangelicalism, reporting from the inside as someone raised and even once ordained in one of the most conservative denominations in the U.S. Now, as a historian and theologian who’s left evangelicalism, Dr. Stacy excavates the root causes of conspiracy theory and the evangelical anxiety at the heart of this movement. Tracing the currents of pain, panic, and power, he reframes conspiracy theory as acts of storytelling, and in the evangelical church, this story then becomes a theological crisis.

For those grieving ruptured relationships and those with heavy hearts about the public witness of the church in the world today, Reality in Ruins validates your pain, empowers you to become the truth-tellers the world needs, and deepens you capacity to understand the problem as you confront it.

Genres: Nonfiction, Politics, Religion, History, Audiobook, Christianity, Theology

304 pages, Hardcover

Published March 17, 2026

About the author

Jared Stacy is a post-evangelical theologian, ethicist and former pastor. He received a PhD in moral & practical theology from the University of Aberdeen in Scotland. His research focuses on the intersection of theology and politics. Specifically on ethics, extremism, conspiracy theory and US evangelicalism. Jared’s work and his story have been featured on platforms like Time, NPR, NBC News, the BBC, and Christianity Today.

Reviews

[Alex Strohschein · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5/5

America is dominated by conspiracy theories and conspiracism. We are fractured from each other as we base our lives and beliefs upon disparate sources of truth. This crisis has seized both the left and the right and it can be confusing when what was once a fringe theory becomes more mainstreamed (p. 76). According to Jared Stacy, PhD, American evangelicalism has been widely infected by a conspiratorial spirit; evangelicals suffer from “holy paranoia,” instrumentalizing Jesus for the selfish purposes of domination rather than embodying Christ’s Kingdom life of mercy, justice, and liberation. While Stacy provides some valuable and helpful guidance as to how to navigate out of conspiratorial thinking, I found Reality in Ruins: How Conspiracy Theory Became an American Evangelical Crisis to be overly broad and lacking nuance.

Conspiracy theory is prevalent in our culture (after all, how much of our modern world has been shaped by the “masters of suspicion?”). Conspiracy theories often offer simplistic narratives that do not constructively take facts into account. Our increasing polarization tempts us towards black and white thinking. Stacy explains:

Conspiracy theory understands the world through a very limited, individualistic account of causality. Things happen, it claims, because people and powerful players decide they are to happen. But this sort of direct cause/effect does not account for the complexity and chaos of our time. Conspiracy theory falls short not just because of its reliance on questionable information, but also because - as stories - they are too simplistic. They offer caricatures of evil, rather than the sort of banal complexity recognized in the work of Hannah Arendt (pp. 143-44).

Conspiracism inculcates lethargy and wariness among evangelicals who do not take responsibility to live in Christlike ways because the “powers that be” are suspected of covertly controlling society.

Stacy is attentive to the power of stories. Stories shape our beliefs and practices, give meaning to our lives, and we all find ourselves within a story - often competing stories. Shared stories and conspiracy theories provide belonging for their adherents (pp. 181-82). Sometimes our commitment to the stories we inhabit inhibit us from being able to accept facts that contradict our views (Arlie Russell Hochschild lays out a compelling “Deep Story” which animates conservatives in Louisiana and America at large). Rather than trying to collaboratively work with the same facts in the same story, we are all navigating our own subplots. Stacy remarks:

When we treat conspiracy theory as a storytelling act, we see the crisis raging all around us from a different perspective. We can see that conspiracism within Christian communities isn’t a problem to fix with facts, alone. It is a crisis of storytelling, and the consequences of such stories - especially their capacity to cause pain and panic, and seize power - are easily seen across the stream of history (p. 12).

Stacy’s book is better in the latter half as he suggests solutions for breaking through conspiracist thinking. He poses three questions for us to ask in order for us to discern whether or not we are falling for conspiracism. I particularly appreciated his exhortation for Christians to find ways of encountering the “other,” whether it be through volunteering in a local organization or offering hospitality and invitation (p. 243). It is easy to decry from a distance but, mindful that the “other” who we are in relationship with is made in the image of God, we become less inclined to demonize them (p. 251). Too often, we’ve been encouraged to be siloed off from other perspectives, as when the “Fairness Doctrine” was dropped in 1987 which had mandated broadcasters to present multiple views on issues (p. 120).

I appreciate Stacy’s stress on our common world. Too much conspiratorial thinking breeds a kind of gnosticism but “Christian faith isn’t some repository of secret content that outsiders know nothing about. The knowledge that emerges from Christian faith is definitively public knowledge, compatible with the common experience of the world” (p. 201). Stacy exhorts evangelicals to relax their sense of certainty because rigid dogmatism can foster proud arrogance:

Evangelicals have emphasized conversion, but reduced its radical, re-cognizing demands, claiming instead to “know” or possess the truth as “biblical” content. Seizing the truth for yourself always severs communion with God…Because it claims a prideful certainty, believing that when what you are is “biblical,” then you can never be wrong. This totalitarian certainty of evangelicalism dispenses with the need for faith, because it already knows.

On the other hand, when we realize that conversion is a constant upending of our certainties, a severing of all that once claimed the “right” to determine us, then the Christian faith is just an ongoing process of learning to recognize this dispossession as salvation. But violence lies so close to us. The temptation to reduce the Christian story by rendering it as a totality and to defend it through force is always present, and potent (p. 209).

Oversaturated with information, we’re reluctant to recognize our limitations (especially regarding complex issues) and I appreciate Stacy’s call for us to admit these limitations on our knowledge; just because we have Google, Wikipedia, and TikTok, that doesn’t make us an expert on X, Y, and Z (pp. 230-32). I believe it is true that there is a stream of extreme (often Calvinistic) conservative Protestantism that is supremely, arrogantly, convinced they know capital-T “Truth,” but Stacy overly valourizes uncertainty:

Dissident discipleship isn’t a passive consumption or accumulation of spiritual principles. Discipleship involves an active dispossession that normalizes uncertainty. If discipleship is training, it is a training in a life that, when pressed, says along with Jesus, human beings “do not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the Father.” Dissident discipleship, then, keeps us in an active posture of listening for the divine Word. It is anchored in relationship, rather than might and dominion. The uncertainty that is the mark of disciples to Jesus is one deeply aware of our own ongoing re-cognition according to the story of Jesus. This means we must remain uncertain, stubbornly so, in the face of those who try to convince us that human beings deemed “illegal” can be denied the rights of dignity and mercy. We must remain uncertain in a way that provokes action (p. 263).

One might call it semantics, but I think humility is a more important virtue to cultivate rather than easing our hold on certainty. There seems to be a deconstruction out of very conservative Christian churches towards a faith that has seemingly adopted a lot of liberal positions on issues (even the term “reconciliation” regarding racial issues is problematized, p. 66). Stacy cautions against the evangelical tendency to claim a rigid sense of certainty; the Word is not an inerrant text but a person, God in the flesh, Jesus Christ. Too often, “biblical” is used as an authoritative adjective, allowing a proponent of “biblical” morality or “biblical” truth to censure criticism ( p. 61). Stacy’s point is well-taken although there are certain biblical teachings I don’t think we can depart from, even if the Bible is not the “Word.” Me, I think there are a lot of doctrinal and moral issues that have been more or less settled by classic Christianity across the two thousand years of Christ’s Body on earth and we don’t need to keep straining our ears “in an active posture of listening for the divine Word” until we get the answer we want because we’ve already been given the answers. Not every belief confessed in certainty is a power play for dominance. I am certain that “Jesus is Lord.”

Stacy has “street cred” when it comes to right-wing American evangelicalism. He grew up in a fundamentalist church that was even wary of so conservative a school as Liberty University, founded by Jerry Falwell; he later served on staff at Thomas Road Baptist Church, also founded by Falwell, during Barack Obama’s presidency (p. 17, 36, 59). Stacy has had a frontline perspective on the issues of conspiracism among evangelicals which is valuable, but one wonders if Stacy would have made his case similarly had he served instead at, say, Redeemer Church in New York City?

Stacy remains a Christian but no longer identifies as an evangelical. He writes, “I’m not concerned with repairing what’s become of evangelicalism…I’m not writing to rebrand the ‘evangelical’ label, or repair a movement” and he asserts that “evangelical” has now become more of a political than a confessional term (pp. 5, 71-73). Fair enough, over the last two decades the term has increasingly come to be associated with toxic politics, white supremacy, Christian nationalism, and reactionary moralism and it’s understandable why some followers of Jesus would eschew the evangelical label. But “evangelical” is a term with a longer lineage and the word itself means “good news”; should we abandon it because of a few rough decades or actively try to reclaim it so that it becomes a more positive identity? I understand that I’m coming across as defensive (God knows how often I felt conspiratorial while reading this book) but I’m just more convinced it’s easier to separate the MAGAchurch from “normal” evangelicals.

Stacy believes that evangelicals wield a lot of power in America; American evangelicals reek of Constantinianism. It is true that the Religious Right is potent but its populist roots often prevent it from attaining elite levels of power. There has never been an evangelical on the modern Supreme Court. Hollywood isn’t evangelical. Wheaton College may be the “Christian Harvard,” but no one would think it’s as prestigious as Yale or Princeton.

To say that conspiracism is at the heart of evangelicalism is on the one hand not entirely remarkable. Because evangelicalism is amorphous, there will always be those who entertain radical, questionable beliefs. Stacy challenges evangelicals that we can’t gatekeep who is in and out of evangelicalism; we can’t point to Timothy Keller and Beth Moore as representative of evangelicalism without also including Franklin Graham and Paula White-Cain. Stacy states, “Evangelicalism is a labyrinth, not a monolith,” always changing, with “broad fronts of fundamentalism, closets of silenced LGBTQ+ Christians, segregated ethnic minorities, and cloisters of elite oligarchs. Being ‘evangelical’ is always contested” (p. 25). We can’t rely on a lodestar like the “Bebbington Quadrilateral” because not all evangelicals act out of its four points. Stacy uses the January 6 attacks on the Capitol to make his case that relying on the Bebbington Quadrilateral is too arbitrary and allows us to “disregard or distort evangelical involvement in and influence on January 6” (p. 73).

And yet. Where Stacy asserts we can’t gatekeep evangelicalism I would question this because I think there are some obvious differences among conservative Protestants and how they approach and interact with culture. I think if I gave Stacy the names of John Mark Comer, Albert Mohler, Makoto Fujimura, Tish Harrison Warren, Rosaria Butterfield, and Mark Driscoll, he would easily sort the three “progressives” from the three “fundamentalists.” I don’t think Russell Moore and Karen Swallow Prior are entrenched in conspiracism and yet they are prototypical examples of evangelicals too. The recent “debate” between Allie Beth Stuckley and David French is illustrative of this divide.

Throughout the book, Stacy mostly critiques those I would consider to be in the fundamentalist wing of Protestantism. In recent years there has been an oversimplification of evangelicalism; too often, fundamentalists are conflated and folded into evangelicalism. I would argue that someone like Stuckley or the Southern Baptist sciolist Andrew Walker belong more to the fundamentalist camp when they adamantly refuse to accept that someone like James Talarico is a Christian because of his more mainline Christian beliefs, particularly on social issues, whereas French would disagree with Talarico on some social issues, but not be so doctrinaire as to deny Talarico is Christrian. Walker is illustrative of a defensive conservative Protestant ivory tower that eschews attendance at secular institutions for the safe coddling of bulwark fundamentalism.

Stacy complains that evangelicals suffer from a persecution complex (evidenced by the story of the shootings of Cassie Bernall and Valeen Schnurr in the Columbine tragedy) and tell a diluted, airbrushed story about their history but he doesn’t identify who he is referring to (p. 63, 77). Is Stacy referring to David Barton and Eric Metaxas or George Marsden and Mark Noll (who in their early careers pushed back on Francis Schaeffer’s more complimentary take on conservative Protestant history)? Marsden and Noll are not infallible, but I would argue their work is more serious and less agenda driven than the likes of Kristin Kobes Du Mez and Beth Allison Barr.

Stacy laments how fundamentalism transformed our reading of Scripture; instead of recognizing it as a divine story about God’s relationship to humanity, it has become a repository of all truth. He writes, “Here’s why this all matters for holy paranoia. This effort to prove the Bible shattered the Bible. By reducing it to a cryptic index of geopolitical prophecies of the end times, the Bible was robbed of its unique authority. In this current, the Bible was transformed into an indexable set of facts and not a witness to a story” (p. 103). He adds “Modern evangelicals today trace their historical lineage through fundamentalists of the early twentieth century, not modernists” (p. 103). Certain modernist beliefs have been consistently rejected by evangelicals, such as a disavowal of the Virgin birth but there are elements of modernism that have become accepted in evangelicalism such as “theistic evolution” and a recognition that the methodology of composing Scripture may not be based on verbal plenary inspiration.

In the third chapter Stacy goes on a whirlwind tour of American evangelical history with the purpose of demonstrating how it has consistently been tainted by conspiracy theory. He looks at such cases as the puritans, slavery, racial laws, and dispensationalism. He examines Billy Graham’s conversation with his close friend, President Richard Nixon. Stacy says this took place "one day in 1973” and in it, Graham shares with Nixon his belief that there are two groups of Jews, one faithful and one comprising a “Synagogue of Satan” (pp. 115-16). Nixon then asks Graham if he believes this and Graham confirms that he does. This is truly a shocking, conspiratorial statement.

Graham and Nixon actually had two recorded conversations that are publicly available. Stacy mixes these up and doesn’t bother specifying the date of the conversation he is citing (even though this information has readily been available for years). The date of the conversation Stacy refers to is February 1, 1972, not 1973. The timestamp he gives in the endnotes is for 1:05:45 but Graham’s quoted comments begin at 29:11. This doesn’t excuse Graham, but it’s sloppy scholarship (while Stacy’s transcript contains nearly all that Graham said, he does drop a few words from the transcript).

The second, 1973 conversation lasted only twenty minutes. The two conversations contain similar content, including the infamous “synagogue of Satan” concept and in both, Graham accuses Jews of pushing pornography. But perhaps if Stacy was a better scholar he would have consulted (and cited) more sources rather than rely on those that allow him to narrate his simple story. Grant Wacker examines both the 1972 conversation and the 1973 conversation in America’s Pastor: Billy Graham and the Shaping of a Nation (pp. 197-98). Because Stacy darts across evangelical history, casual readers may think that Graham was an unrepentant, bigoted anti-Semite. But this isn’t true, as Wacker shows in his account of Graham’s June 2002 meeting with several rabbis (p. 198). Stacy’s helter-skelter approach to evangelical history is simplistic and reductionistic - the puritans came to found an authoritarian Christendom in the New World, George Whitefield was a compliant champion of slavery, evangelicalism is the handmaiden to capitalism and militarism. History is so much more complicated than that and it’s conspiracy theory that tells a simplistic narrative.

Stacy doesn’t distinguish a belief in biblical “inerrancy” from "infallibility,” admitting he isn’t using inerrancy in the same way it would be understood by pastors and evangelical scholars (p. 170). I think there is a significant difference between the two; inerrancy stresses that the Bible is true in everything, including in scientific truths, while infallibility moderates to a claim that the Bible is true in what it teaches while recognizing that the text was limited in its scope about aspects of Creation modern science might disprove.

Rightly so, Stacy inveighs against authoritarianism and conservative Christian attempts to enforce their policies through these tactics. There’s a danger when the state compels something unjust. But evangelicals are not just attempting to impose their understanding of justice and the common good by force all the time; in many cases, they are using the legitimate mechanisms of government. January 6, as horrific and outrageous as it was, is not the norm, it’s an extreme outlier. Christians on the left who want to foster a more welcoming country to illegal immigrants (Stacy is concerned about the use of language) because they are attentive to the Old Testament injunction to welcome the alien are the same as right-leaning Christians who want to ban abortion because of biblical interpretation. Donald Trump’s administration has been terribly cruel, but the Christian response isn’t just to wink when laws are evaded. It's possible for conservative Christians to advocate for better conditions for illegal immigrants while also insisting that the law of the land be respected and adhered to.

Reality in Ruins has some good guidance on escaping conspiracism and being hospitable to others and it's a worthy cause, but it also belongs to the canon of books by fatigued refugees from evangelicalism. It would be a far truer book if the subtitle was changed to How Conspiracy Theory Became an American Fundamentalist Crisis.

[Graydon Jones · Rating 5 out of 5]

Have you ever wondered why conspiracy theories are to flourish within Christian communities? This book is a prophetic statement about the conspiracism rampant in evangelicalism. Dr. Jared Stacy is a needed voice and powerful writer!

[Gabriel Levc · Rating 1 out of 5]

The topic of this book is extremely interesting and important, but the book itself is, unfortunately, quite ass.

Most of the chapters do not follow any kind of clear thread; the author rambles through a bunch of loosely connected topics. I often only got to understand where he was trying to get when, after many pages of what I took to be loose associations, he said that „in the previous pages, I have shown that…“.
By far, the biggest weakness of the book is the argumentation or, rather, the lack thereof. For the most part, it reads like a sermon, with the author telling you how things are. This ranges from basic observations to very substantive claims that would really need some justification - only there is none to be found. It is quite telling that most paragraphs in this are a few sentences at most.
To me, the unfortunate peak of this series of assertions was when the author disagreed with Evangelical theology (which, for the record, I wholeheartedly do too). He does so by summarizing its views, says that those are wrong, and then tells you how he sees things. Neither the Evangelical view being wrong nor his supposedly better view is backed up by reasoning - all we get is flat assertions. It is truly absurd to me that someone who writes about conspiratism and religious faith being captured by political interest fails to see that baseless interpretations of the bible, and the fact that religious faith can be used that way, are a big contributor to the problem. I am happy that the author arrived at the interpretation of the Bible he did - I truly am - but he‘d really do well to be better not just in belief but also in method.

I don‘t want to deny that there are some interesting observations here. But all of this has been done elsewhere, in so much more detail, and with stringent argumentation.

In the Introduction, the author defends his choice to include his personal experiences in the book; ironically, I think that a book that focussed on these experiences rather than alluding to them here and there would have been a lot better. His journey does sound very interesting, but I think it should be theorized by others.

[Caleb · Rating 4 out of 5]

The tragedy of any pervasive conspiracy theory that we allow to shape our lived reality, is exactly that these stories (alternative realities or disrealities) fill our world with convictions that push others outside our very real lived experience. Books like this one (especially stories) clear a space for the reader to begin making room, not only for oneself to breathe again, but to extend a hand to one’s neighbor. Any gospel that offers an alternative that withholds this hand, does not bear witness to the truth – for Christ’s hands are outstretched with compassion.

[Daniel Rempel · Rating 5 out of 5]

It would be really easy for someone burned by the church to go scorched earth in publication. We’ve seen that many times before, but Reality in Ruins does not do that. Stacy is far too pastoral, far too caring of those in Evangelical spaces to attempt such. Rather, gently and with much care, Stacy notes the influence of story in collective identity, pushing us to a deeper shared world. While his focus is on the American context with its distinct particularities, readers from any context will benefit from this work. Take and read, friends.

[Lauren Duke · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reality in Ruins

Thank you NetGalley and HarperOne for granting me early access to this book in exchange for my honest review.

This is a book meant to help us remember what it means to tell the truth at a time when we are bearing the cost of so much untruth.

It’s a descriptive book, naming the pain many of us feel and recounting a history, long forgotten. But the book is also prescriptive, encouraging the reader that knowledge demands responsibility.

The authors hopes to be helpful and hopeful for those who with questions like “how do we get here?” and “is there a way forward?”. “Most of all I want to reflect what it means to tell the truth.”

Divided into 3 parts: where we are, how we got here, and where we need to go this book was informative, heartbreaking, and encouraging.

Recommended it to those who are confused and discouraged about how we have gotten to where we are right now. I do wonder if it is written and will only be read by those who already agree with him- a bit of an echo chamber book? But I do think his personal experience probably gives in credibility in those circles.

[Pete · Rating 4 out of 5]

It took me a while to get my head around this review. This is the fruit of Stacy’s PhD work on evangelical obsession with conspiracy theories. He insightfully condemns how evangelicals have tied conspiracy theories with “orthodox Christian belief,” yet graciously explains reasons why people are drawn to conspiracy theories. Though conspiracy theories dehumanize the “Other,” he is careful to not dehumanize those who buy into conspiracy theories.

Through the book, Stacy shares a few glimpses into his own faith journey, toward seeing God’s Word as Jesus rather than the Bible and to stop defending the term “evangelical.” He claims that totalities can only be named from inside, yet he doesn’t grasp his own “insider status” as an evangelical. He clearly shows how the fluid term “evangelical” has been used both to unite and to distance (he calls this “a no-true-Scotsman in constant flux”). With that background, he is careful not to claim the label “evangelical” for himself in such a way to say, “Those evangelicals are not real evangelicals.”

Part of his background in evangelicalism centers around the Falwell legacy of Liberty University and Thomas Road Baptist Church in Virginia. I found particularly interesting the Virginia-based histories. For example, the tavern where Jefferson wrote Virginia’s slave codes became the site of the Woolworth's famous for the sit-ins protesting racial injustice. In another story of evangelical syncretism, Eberhard Bethge (friend of Dietrich Bonhoeffer) once visited Jerry Falwell’s Thomas Road Baptist Church and was given two pins, an American flag and a “Jesus First!” pin.

Early in the book, Stacy explains that story is always stronger than facts. In an accelerating world of information overload, we grasp for explanations—he calls them “totalities.” “Totality” promises to explain all of reality by “enclosure” of a single perspective. (For example: when a “biblical worldview” requires you to hold a sanitized view of American history.) This “hidden knowledge” leads to a feeling of superiority. Not only do we seek the promise of certainty—which leads to pride—but we also desire belonging—which makes us suspicious of outsiders. “Conspiracism appeals in this moment of change precisely because it offers certainty bound up in community.” We might visualize these as: totality > certainty > pride and totality > belonging > suspicion.

Since all facts are couched in story, this means we can’t argue a friend out of a conspiracy theory with better facts. “Telling the truth is never less than the facts, but always more.” As followers of Jesus, we have a better story to tell, and a better belonging to receive.

I found the fourth chapter particularly helpful, listing ingredients in conspiracy thinking. (I almost wish he had organized the next few chapters to sort into these four categories.) These “plot devices” are: (1) apocalyptic (revealed) knowledge that feels exclusive, (2) individualism that assumes a single mastermind with an agenda, (3) a moral call to resist, and (4) fear of losing political freedom.

In response, he argues that (1) God’s public revelation invites us into (2) caring for the common good of the whole world through solidarity. The Christian story is not “Gnostic” hidden knowledge meant for the select few, but for the good of the whole world.

Because we fear change, totality is “truth established by violence”—in our own effort. He cites Jacques Ellul to explain our use of technique and management.” This certainty in the objectivity of our perspective leads to a suspicion toward the external threat of “them.”

Stacy argues for (3) good suspicion of ourselves (particularly asking, “Why do I want this to be true?”). “Good suspicion” is “the courage to say ‘I don’t know’ in a time when what is taken to be true is established through violence.”

(4) Ironically, in fearing the loss of political freedom, we voluntarily give up freedom for authoritarian certainty. Instead, we can find true freedom only in Christ. Rather than Scripture prescribing a particular political arrangement (our modern idea of “nationhood” is arbitrary), “When the Scriptures speak of proper Christian respect for governing powers, they do so with a truly dizzying array of possible political arrangements in view, recognizing the acts of God taking place in any sort of political arrangement.” No matter how political structures change, God is always at work so we don’t have to fear.

Christians receive Jesus (the Truth) as reality. “So the difference lies in whether we become a people who claim to possess the truth, or people claimed by the truth…” Jesus does not promise us certainty, but instead relational “communion.” In fact, Christian “conversion” is an ongoing process of change. “Encounter means altering the shape of your life.” This reminds me of Hartmut Rosa’s focus on how “Resonance” changes us in ways we can’t control.

Stacy's grassroots ecclesiology (the Church as the “sand in the machine” in the title of the final chapter) is clearly influenced by Stanley Hauerwas. In sum, rather than a posture of grasping to control the state (with “technique”), we are invited into a posture of receiving how God is already working.

One of the most powerful moments was when Stacy brought up his fresh understanding of Psalm 119:105. In contrast to how the term “biblical” is used to support totalities, God’s Word is not a promise to reveal everything all at once. “A ‘lamp to our feet’ is the smallest sort of light source imaginable. It casts light for our next step, and that’s enough.”

**received early access via NetGalley from the publisher**
**this review was originally posted on Englewood Review of Books: https://englewoodreview.org/jared-sta...**

[Nancy Peifer · Rating 5 out of 5]

An insightful and innovative perspective on not only evangelicalism but our whole American experience right now. Try to read as an open-minded learner, attempting to put aside your current perspectives and biases as much as possible. Then find a group of people holding diverse perspectives to discuss it!

[Ashley McNeese]

Wow. There was so much wisdom in this book. Many profound moments to highlight. I wish some of it were more specific as far as examples or stories go, especially of the author’s own journey away from fundamentalism and this type of evangelicalism. But it’s very good.

Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC.

[Amanda · Rating 4 out of 5]

Somewhat rambling and in need of more concrete advice, but still a good book.

[Kate H · Rating 2 out of 5]

I didn't need to read this. It's the same conversation we've been having for a decade

[Maggie Boyd · Rating 1 out of 5]

Christianity is meant to be The Good News (Isaiah 52:7), but you can turn the TV on at pretty much any hour and hear certain Evangelicals ranting about bad news. Apocolypse. Potential persecution (or enforced laws being seen as persecution). The end of the faith - unless you vote how they tell you. For most, this was apparently politics as usual until 2016, when Evangelicals voted in overwhelming numbers for a man who was the polar opposite of what their pundits had claimed we absolutely had to have in the White House. Explanations were demanded as to how a decidedly un-Christian man, perhaps the LEAST Christian person to ever hold the office of president, could win the Christian vote.

Stacey's volume, a decade late to the game, has little to offer those looking to make sense of the (seemingly) nonsensical. Rather than a memoir or analysis, it's a #me-too to give him liberal cred, since his academic/work credentials are entirely conservative. The primary problem with the volume is that he employs the three R's in his writing: Rambling, Redundant, and wRong. Ridiculous is thrown in on occasion just for fun.

He begins by borrowing a tactic often employed by conservative storytellers and emphasizes the apocalyptic nature of his work: The crisis of conspiracism in evangelicalism has consequences beyond itself. These consequences are now painfully clear. And those with the courage to confront these consequences will pay a cost. (p. 1) His proof? Studies show that during the pandemic and the election of 2020, evangelical Christians - my people -were one of the highest religious communities to traffic in conspiratorial beliefs about COVID and Trump's stolen election conspiracy. (p 3) But this would be natural since Republicans were the group most likely to do this, and many Evangelicals are republican. The author failed to show how, among republicans, evangelicals believed more conspiracies than the average red voter.


The main focus of the book is to decry the dangers posed by mixing dark stories with faith. "Entangled in the Christian story, conspiracy theory becomes the stuff of divine revelation: claiming to expose not just what is 'really happening' in the world, what shapes and guides our politics, our societies, and our lives, but also who God is. (p. 9) He adds, "conspiracy theories are doing theological work for the evangelicals who believe them. (p.20) All of which lead to "Holy paranoia: . . . a Jesus who is defined as much by fear, suspicion and rage as he is by faith, hope and love." p.23 He points out that The target of these anxieties may change - but the impulse to use the social anxieties to give the gospel message an urgency and a relevancy is a long-standing play in the evangelical play-book. (p. 95)

The dissemination of the above comes from carefully crafted news management. He states that We must recognize that this historical impulse to distrust the media has its roots in antisemitism (p.116) and points out that radio empires have been created so that contemporary Christian music can be heard alongside Charlie Kirk and Turning Point USA. The association creates a powerful devotion, one that unites worship with the words of conservative platforms. (p.121) They train you to think you know the “real truth”: This satisfying sense of being an insider of an outsider group harkens back to that ancient diverging Christianity of Gnosticism and its love for secret knowledge p. 133 Conspiracy theory gives it adherents a sense of supremacy, “I know, you don’t” . . . and community “I know and we know”. P. 137

According to the author, individualism is another essential plot device in the totality of holy paranoia p. 141 which “shows up in conspiracy theories that argue, for example, that a mass global pandemic was the result of one person’s master plan” p.143 His claim is that this results in categorizing one group as “good” or “saved” and another as damned which reflects a Manichean imagination not a Christian one. p.145) which is ludicrous. Matthew 25 has Jesus separating sheep from goats (good and bad), and 1 Corinthians 5:9-13 has Paul dividing people into good believers, bad believers, and non-Christians. These divisions are an inherent part of the faith.

The author holds that The Christ of Holy Paranoia sustains myths of American greatness and whiteness. p.23. He tells us. It doesn't matter if conspiracy theories are true or not. What matters is that they give voice to vibes. The sense that Obama was not good for Christians overwhelmed any and all factually grounded considerations about his citizenship. (p. 35) All of this has led to A sanitized myth of America smuggled into a Christian story (that) shapes a perception that is both dangerous for common political life and marked by denial of the reality that is Jesus. P 61 He believes this is true because The founding impulse of evangelical Christianity in America is reliant on the realization of Christian supremacy in the political. (p.86) All of this certainly sounds correct, but it isn’t backed by evidence. The plausibility of an idea doesn’t turn it into a fact, and that is where this author’s work really falls apart, in proving what he has to say.

Where he is emphatically wrong is when he tries to bring forth some kind of theology. “The conspiratorial thinking within evangelicalism trades on disoriented moral zeal. This assumptive claim to wield “Christian values” as the clear product of God’s command has introduced so much chaos into this moment of Disreality, where claims over what is “biblical” construct entire moral schemes and systems that function as a totalizing knowledge of good and evil - something that evangelicalism claims to possess for itself, rather than pursue in communion with God.” p. 149 He argues that this is actually evil, since Possession of ultimate knowledge... was the motivating factor in what evangelicals consider ‘the fall’.p.149 But that’s not the Calvinist doctrine on the fall. They believe it wasn’t the fruit or what it professed to offer, but the disobedience that led to the fall.

This is part of the author’s overall theme of moving away from what we know and just having some sort of cosmic experience of God and each other. While he claims that, “My aim here isn’t to promote distrust in facts p 45 or I’m not here to offer a tacit endorsement of the raging, dangerous trend of anti-science or anti-intellectualism. p46 he pretty much does just that by saying “dressing everything as a fact through dictatorial power erodes our capacity to parse fact from fiction.” P. 45 and I’m here to nudge us to consider the limits of facts and data when it comes to naming and experiencing what we call “reality”. . . .Bare life is like your vital signs, but I am talking about your life story. (p.46) The limits of data are important to recall in a time when so many facts and data are contested and conflicting in a state of Disreality Then he claims You cannot fact-check a myth. P49 You can fact-check myths. That’s the whole point of websites like Snopes, encyclopedias, and physical science.

He wants to replace the Bible and teaching of Christian morality with “a community that enacts in and among its members a rehearsal of God’s story - a story ultimately about liberating renewal.” P. 152 since we can’t “”read the Bible to understand (moral) principles and then apply them. (p 151) This is the probable explanation for why he rarely references the Bible throughout the volume. He hinges this on Paul's statement in 1 Corinthians 13 that we don’t yet see things clearly and insists that “uncertainty is an uncomfortable mark of discipleship” (p 261). He claims, “Discipleship involves an active dispossesion that normalizes uncertainty.” p. 263 and insists that time and place change what discipleship looks like, “Faithfulness in our time is faithfulness in our time.. . it faces the concrete, real and lived challenges and winds of change of its times. (*cough* Gal 1:8-9) Yet Paul spends much time in 1 Corinthians hammering out doctrine and encouraging the church to evict a sinful member. He was also so confident in his message that he died for it.

That is ridiculous enough, but he makes throwaway statements like: George Lucas’s Star Wars resolved the anxieties of a new generation of Americans who were embattled by acting like the Empire in Vietnam, longing to be the Rebels once again. Later, in 2008, when Robert Downey Jr. walked out of a cave of Islamic Jihadists in Afghanistan wearing Iron Man’s first suit, this imagery was a bid to soothe the American anxiety over terrorism and the public divide over the War on Terror. The power of story goes on. (p.70) Those films appealed to people who held differing views on those subjects cause they were fun. He reduces the Salem witch trials to “willinginess to code the bodies of women and marginalized people as the “source of national decline or risk. p.84, but women were at the heart of the persecutorial nature of the trials. He claims that “After breaking faith with god, the first act of human naming is to reduce and instrumentalize. .The a-dam now looks at his partner and names her according to mere biological function of “making babies” (p. 187) since his female partner went from woman, meaning of man, to Eve, meaning mother of all living things. (p.187, Genesis 3:20) Did the dude miss The Handmaid’s Tale? Being named “of” something is demeaning, so if we are going to nitpick, that title is the more demeaning one. Also, woman is a designation; all females are women in the English language. However, we are not all called Eve. Eve is a name that denotes her unique role as the first human to bear young. Calling that a reduction and instrumentalization makes it sound like there is something demeaning about childbirth and motherhood in general, which is frankly insulting.

Overall, not worth the time or effort.

[Maree Walker · Rating 5 out of 5]

I waited with great anticipation for the release of this book, and it has been far more helpful than I expected. If I could describe it in three words, I would say it is enlightening, validating and healing. Having been raised in evangelicalism and fundamentalism in Australia, and with many friends and family taken in by the promises and conspiracism of Donald Trump, (and attracted to the politics of Pauline Hanson, his Aussie equivalent) I've had a lot of unanswered questions. This book has helped fill the gaps in my understanding of the interconnectedness of evangelicalism and right-wing politics.

While it is based on Jared's PhD research, it's also a deeply personal story, describing his own experience coming from a Fundamentalist Baptist upbringing.
I'd put it in the same league as Jesus and John Wayne by Kristin Kobes du Mez and The Kingdom, the Power and The Glory by Tim Alberta. But I think what makes Reality in Ruins stand out is it gets to the root of the biggest problems within evangelicalism today: a long history of distrust and conspiricism from the very origins of the movement in the US.

We are taken back to the beginning of evangelicalism, to the Great Awakening, which took place in America while slavery was in full effect. That is where the fear and conspiricism began, and has remained ever since. During this period, there were constant (and very real) fears of uprisings by the enslaved people, which threatened the system keeping the slave holders wealthy and in positions of power.

Over time, this developed into major suspicion and distrust of institutions, minorities, and any challengers of the evangelical status quo (feminists, LGBTQ+, immigrants, anti-capitalists, media, public education, scientists etc.). The highly influential evangelical preacher Billy Graham fed into this conspiricism with his rabid anti-communist and white supremicist rhetoric.

Jared also names something many of us have noticed, but has remained unspoken within our churches: many evangelicals have determined themselves to be the arbiters of absolute Truth and therefore immune to any kind of fact-checking or accountability. This has in turn led to abuse of power and cruelty to others, not only in our churches, but in our communities as well.

Jared ends by recommending a way forward, by becoming more comfortable with uncertainty, exercising good suspicion (of our own beliefs and ideologies) and unlearning the beliefs that negatively influence the ways we see and treat our neighbours. All necessary but costly actions.

[the shrew · Rating 2 out of 5]

I think the intended audience for this book is post-evangelicals who are still Christian and who are concerned about the proliferation of conspiracy theories amongst still-evangelical friends and relatives. Stacy initially lays out some theoretical terms to understand the evangelical worldview and its tendencies towards conspiratorial suspicion, namely "totality" and "holy paranoia." He also emphasizes theological components of conspiracy theories such as their imputation of certainty, meaning, and community in their purported revelations of secret knowledge. He theorizes the nature of facts and reality through Agamben's idea of "bare life" in that reality is more than datapoints and woven through with narrative.

After this he skims through historical entanglements between evangelicals and conspiracies such as Puritans and witch trials, Second Great Awakening revivals and slave revolts, and Billy Graham and anticommunism. Throughout the book there are a whole host of conspiracies and conspiratorial movements mentioned or detailed in brief such as the Cassie Bernal Columbine shooting victim for supposedly being Christian, Bircherism, UFOs as relief from Cold War anxieties, dispensationalist readings of Bible prophecy, and many many more. While it's clear that these speculations aren't unique to evangelicals, he does cite a 2021 survey showing white evangelicals as having the most affinity for the notorious QAnon ("Donald Trump has been secretly fighting a group of child sex traffickers that include prominent Democrats and Hollywood elites," per the survey) out of any measured religious group (one out of four), a concerning figure that really does demand explanation.

Towards the middle Stacy synthesizes his theoretical framework into a discreet explanation for this apparent penchant for conspiracy. His thesis is that the totalizing worldview of "holy paranoia" draws from the resurrection of Christ as a "prime alternative fact" and turns it into a "plausibility mechanism" for all sorts of alternative theories. Finally, Stacy applies his research ministerially in a practice of "good suspicion." He advocates for accepting uncertainty and interrogating desires behind wanting certain conspiracies to be true against the ethics of Jesus.

One positive of this book is that it introduces post-evangelicals to more robust thinkers like Arendt & Agamben and other more specific cutting-edge researchers and theorists like Quinn Slobodian & Shoshana Zuboff. Overall it reads something like a critical theory book with its theoretical top-heaviness and loose cobbling-together of supporting historical phenomena. It feels far less structured and rigorous than accounts by historians and journalists of religion, but then again these are much lighter or nonexistent on theory.

Still, it remains that this book, despite protest, remains published in the "discipleship industry" and aimed at a very slim audience within that still. I'm really not even sure if I find his thesis agreeable as I don't think the resurrection plays a large part in evangelicals' lived theology; mostly the penal substitutionary atonement theory and behavioral pressures of guilt and shame stemming from that seem to form the workings of on-the-ground belief and practice. There are other important claims theorizing evangelical behavior as well such as something about the Copernican revolution influencing deism, individualist faith, and "grand mastermind behind it all" conspiracizing that really needed more space to flesh out.

I'm not sure if a narrower focus on a more limited number of conspiracy theories or aspects of conspiratorial thinking would have better befitted this book. It certainly reads like a PhD thesis for a critical theory-aware doctoral divinity school with its theory, history, and application, but I don't think it really nails any of these components very sturdily or convincingly. It has some punchy lines and interesting takes to consider as someone also interested in both critical theory and evangelicalism, but I think analyzing this topic of the prevalence of conspiracy theories amongst evangelicals wholly needs another attempt.

edit: This book also really makes me want to read The Gospel of J. Edgar Hoover: How the FBI Aided and Abetted the Rise of White Christian Nationalism next. Stacy and historians like Fitzgerald in The Evangelicals: The Struggle to Shape America identify the genesis of modern white evangelicalism in the fundamentalist/modernist split among American Protestants in the 1910s-30s. Still, to me recently there appears something suspiciously well-suited for evangelical belief & practice to accept and comply with American imperialism, especially considering its likely aid with longstanding meddling in Latin American affairs.

[Tim Schillinger · Rating 3 out of 5]

Pros
>>A great examination and tracing of how nationalism and power-seeking have corrupted the message of Jesus, the evangelical mind, and ultimately led to the justification of dismantling the American union, religious empathy, and individual spirituality.

>>Offers genuinely interesting counter-arguments for how Christians should understand power, the Fall from Eden, and their relationship to "truth" and "facts", the kind of internal theological critique that hits harder than outside attacks.

>>Effectively weaves in great thinkers like Hannah Arendt to illuminate totalizing worldviews, their relationship to power, and how the evangelical understanding of mission and "the other" maps onto broader patterns of authoritarianism.

Cons
>>The definition of "conspiracy theory" is extremely poor, and it undermines a lot of what follows. The author assumes you already know what he means and that it's inherently a threat, while trying to distance it from "healthy suspicion" without ever accurately distinguishing the two. This is a real problem, because a conspiracy theory is just that: a theory, proven or disproven by demonstrable facts. The author doesn't acknowledge the long history of conspiracy theories that turned out to be true, including the co-opting of religion by US oligarchs to advance their interests and even the manipulation of conspiracy theory communities themselves to serve agendas hostile to human rights. Ironically, some of what the author describes (the evolution of evangelical radicalization and tech oligarchs embracing right-wing movements) could itself be framed as a conspiracy theory by his own loose definition.

>>The author is very myopic in his examination of Christian conspiracy theories, which translates into a partisan read. Christianity was founded on conspiracy theories and has grown and expanded on new ones since its inception. For the author to focus almost exclusively on the American evangelical variant (even when done accurately and well) is to examine a sliver of a much longer story. The book only lightly acknowledges that conspiracy theories have seeded and fueled Christianity ever since a peasant died on a cross, and that omission makes the whole analysis feel smaller than it should be.

Summary
This book is at its best when it's doing close, theologically literate analysis, tracing how the evangelical pursuit of power has distorted the actual teachings of Jesus and mapping that distortion onto the broader machinery of American authoritarianism. The Arendt connections are sharp, and the counter-arguments offered to mainstream evangelical assumptions about power and truth are some of the more interesting theological critiques you'll find in a book aimed at a general audience. But it's hobbled by a central conceptual failure: the refusal to define "conspiracy theory" with any rigor. In a book fundamentally about how dangerous ideas spread and calcify, that's not a minor oversight. It's a load-bearing wall with a crack in it. Pair that with a lens so narrowly focused on American evangelicalism that it ignores how conspiracy thinking has shaped Christianity from its very origins, and the book ends up being a sharp but incomplete diagnosis. Worth reading for the analysis it does well; frustrating for the intellectual shortcuts it takes to get there.

[Shilo · Rating 1 out of 5]

I like to read books about the church, both the good and the bad. I think that’s why I requested the book “Reality in Ruins" by Jared Stacy, Phd from Netgalley. I have lived in similar places to Dr. Stacy. I lived in Tampa, Florida for a few years (as well as multiple other cities in Florida) and also attended Liberty University, but that’s where our similarities end. The premise of the book sounded good, but the execution of it left me wondering an alternating series of questions: Who in the church hurt you? Or possibly: who are the crazy people you encountered there?

First, he seems to have a vendetta against the church. Everything bad that has ever happened in this country from slavery to the Salem witch trials to the Red Scare can be linked back to the Evangelical church. I am not saying that the church has not done wrong, but I do feel it is a stretch to in any way blame the modern church. There were ministers who massacred Native Americans, which is awful and evil, but I don’t blame the modern church for that.

Basically, if you are “woke”, you will like this book. If you believe woke is a conspiracy theory, you will love this book. If you believe that Trump is the devil and the church worships him, you should consider reading this book. If you are looking for an impartial view of how conspiracy theories have infiltrated the church and what we can do to stop them, this is not the book for you.

He says flat out that he does not believe the Bible is the word of God. If you are a Bible believing Christian, that should tell you enough about his theology.

He claims that Evangelicals try to dehumanize people by calling them illegal and Evangelicals believe anyone illegal should be in concentration camps. I have never heard that in my life! I grew up in Florida and knew some people who were not here legally; they were great people. A lot of churches help people who are struggling and I don’t know of any who make sure they are here legally first. Maybe his church did, but that’s as far as I can go, I do not believe that it is a systemic issue in the Church. Now if he wanted to talk about people with disabilities being treated differently, I could add to the discussion, but he just cares about political talking points.

He loves buzz words and phrases like “totalities” and Holy paranoia” which makes the book sound great, but also works to just discount anything as paranoia. He is right and everyone else is wrong, and if you don’t agree you are just paranoid. Sure. I am not saying there was nothing valuable in the book, but the bad outweighs the good by quite a bit.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for an audio ARC. The review is my own and unfortunately, this was not the book for me. I did listen to it all the way through though. Had I stopped half way, my rating would likely have been higher.

[Janine · Rating 5 out of 5]

I approached this book much like previous ones about evangelism in America (Jesus and John Wayne (Kristin Kobes Du Mez, 2021), The Power Worshipers (Katherine Stewart, 2022), The Seven Mountains Mandate (Matthew Boedy, 2025), The False White Gospel (Jim Wallis, 2024) with the hope of trying to discern what I was missing in my understanding of Christianity in today's America. It seems to me I'd gone down a rabbit hole in looking at what Project 2025 is trying to do and as if I'm living in one Christian reality and the evangelicals in another. Then enter this book - for me it is the "aha" or "eureka" to my weary soul.

Reality in Ruins gets to the heart of the destructive nature of American evangelism: it's reliance on conspiracy theories and suspicion have created fractures in communities, churches and our society. Consider Kristen Kobes Du Mez's subtitle to her book, Jesus and John Wayne: How White Evangelicals Corrupted a Faith and Fractured a Religion. Dr. Stacy is building on this subtitle but expanding it for a deeper dive in exposing the "theology" that undermines evangelism.

As I read in a 2024 New Yorker article, there is fear and anxiety at the heart of American evangelism. This creates per Dr. Stacy, Disreality, which to evangelicals mean their world "reeling from the ruins of what was once a common world". This world is not what they want it to be. It is
filled with warring ideologies, religious and political extremism, and cults of certainty which evangelicals either want to destroy or at least slow down the changes that can't be halted.

In taking apart the evangelicals' disreality, Dr. Stacy provides background to the fractured evangelical world and at least for me validated that what I was seeing is not what Jesus's message is. Rather in this evangelical world, it's distortion that seems to rule. I was so struck by his pointing out that the Bible is a story not a "cipher to contemporary geopolitics" and it doesn't authorize many of the things evangelicals cling to like the world being literally created in seven days. I also was greatly comforted by Dr. Stacy saying in so many words what I've been saying simply: Who made these people God? Who authorized these people to tell me and others they had all the answers. Finally, I particularly enjoyed Dr. Stacy providing historical background the evangelism and the various paradigms within it.

This is an important book! A must read for anyone like me striving to understand what happened to Christianity in America. It is also a book that empowers one to tell the truth. How greatly this is needed. Thank you, Dr. Stacy.

I would like to thank NetGalley and HarperOne for giving me the privilege of reviewing this awesome ARC.

[Dave Lester · Rating 5 out of 5]

A book that is entirely relevant to what is going on in our world right now. Dr. Jared Stacy has written a thoughtful and compassionate book about how conspiracy theories have seem to have overtaken so much of our society. He wisely states up front that this is not a book giving a step-by-step guide of how to get someone out of conspiracy theorizing or how to argue with them. Rather, Dr. Stacy has written a book about how to philosophically think about so much in our culture and society right now through the lens of Christian faith and a commitment to truth and facts.

It is not an easy book to read as far as recognizing people that we know (family or friends or perhaps ourselves at some point) who have fallen down seemingly infinite rabbit holes of exaggerated or unconfirmed information and have built a whole world around that disinformation. Dr. Stacy calls this "disreality". He discusses the value of uncertainty, asking good quesitons, thoughtfully engaging as means to immunize ourselves from getting sucked in.

Information is complicated in the information age. We are overwhelmed with stuff coming at us from all directions. May we be people who are committed to the truth in a loving and gracious way.

[Dorothy Greco · Rating 4 out of 5]

Stacy offers insight into the overlap btwn Christian nationalism/evangelicalism and conspiracy theories. Best for me to include a few of the notable quotes so readers can discern if they want to read this. (It is slightly more academic than I typically enjoy.)

"Rather than coercively lording the 10 commandments over the American populace in public spaces, Christians in America must encounter the God who delivers us in the very space of common good that these commands mark out. Have we loved God and neighbor? No amount of coercive moralizing can make up for neglect that refuses responsibility."
"Ever since the State Christianity became the tool of Empire, it has been about the maintenance of imperial borders, not the service of the table of Christ."
"The cost of change tends to be lower than the pain of not changing."
"Seizing the truth for yourself always severs communion with God. Why? Because it claims a prideful certainty, believing that when what you are is 'biblical' then you can never be wrong."

Stacy pushes back against fear, hoarding, and an unwillingness to change. Good read.

[Theresa Jehlik · Rating 3 out of 5]

Stacy, who was raised, educated, and became a pastor in an evangelical church, discusses how conspiracy theory has become interwoven with religion. His basic thesis is that this relationship has created and nurtured the current age of "disreality" in America. He explores how relying only on data and facts while ignoring the power of stories has nurtured and expanded the deep divide in American society. As individuals become overwhelmed with information, turning to stories can become an easier way to make sense of the world. The author provides some practical guidance with steps to identifying conspiratorial thinking and defining the differences between "good" suspicion and "bad" suspicion. This work is another piece of the puzzle that tries to answer the question, "How did America get here?"

[Sydney · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thanks to NetGalley and HarperOne for the eARC in exchange for my honest review!

Stacy has written a really timely book. As an ex-evangelical, I did find myself annoyed at points that he managed to stay religious rather than leaving. However, there is absolutely merit in people within a group calling out the damaging aspects.
There were a couple of places where I wish Stacy had included some definitions (like one for 'straw man', which I know is a type of fallacy in an argument, but don't actually remember exactly what it involves), but overall, this is a thorough, well-thought-out, well-researched book.
Whether you are an evangelical, have been an evangelical, or simply want to understand the evangelical mindset better, I think you'll get a lot out of this book.

[Lydia Grenier · Rating 5 out of 5]

Powerful. Compelling. Insightful. Despite the somewhat sensationalist title, this book is anything but. The author thoughtfully explains so much about how we got to where we are today and why it is so difficult to engage many people productively. I lived much of what he’s writing about too, I just never knew how to put the pieces together like he did. This man has done his homework, and created a compassionate guidebook that is helping my own heart attitude towards those with whom I strongly disagree in the realm of politics and Christianity….specifically the wedding of the two. I wish every American Christian could read this book. It is truly enlightening.

[Kate Hergott · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is an incredibly insightful deep dive into Disreality, misinformation, disinformation, conspiracism, and their roots in evangelical Christian Nationalism. I appreciated Stacy's perspective on the state of politics in relation to his work as a historian AND theologian. The structure of the book helps inform and give hope for ways to exist in this strange reality where religion has been used as a shield and justification for hateful, evil actions.

Thanks to NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for my honest review.

[Denise Rowan · Rating 5 out of 5]

As an American living in the UK, I think this is a very important book. I felt compelled to write a review because I think the information in Reality in Ruins should be shared. I guess I’m also tired of Christians assuming the “church hurt” of other people just because they don’t like what someone has to say about evangelical Christianity. Disagreement doesn’t mean church hurt! (I’m referring to other reviews that claim the author is writing from church hurt.) This is the book the church needs today!

[Steve Peifer · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a serious book that attempts to show the history of conspiracy theory in American evangelical circles, the theology misunderstanding which allows conspiracies to take root, and a plan to come out of the mess.

It isn’t shallow, and after one read I felt like I needed to read it again. It goes deep and it doesn’t settle for shallow answers. It’s an important addition to understanding current evangelical thought.

[Sandy · Rating 3 out of 5]

The book details conspiracy theories and the impact they have with evangelicals. The author delves into the history of conspiracy theories and why evangelicals seem to believe them. The author was a minister and his PhD.focused on evangelicals obsession with conspiracy theories. I found the history to be interesting although the author's writing style was rather dry.

[Nelis]

No rating, as I didn’t finish the book. Why not? The subject matter is of some interest to me, but after listening to about 30% (excellent narration by the author, by the way), I found the treatment to be more academic in tone than I care for. That is not a negative, just a reflection of my reading preferences. I might revisit it in print at some point, where I have more ability to skim.

[Randy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Although I usually don't read this type of books, but the term "conspiracy theories" piqued my interest. The author is very passionate and answered some questions I have. I remember there's a book about evangelism and politics, and I might take a look.

[Kallie · Rating 4 out of 5]

once again, those who need it are not going to read it. I really liked the line about seeing Christ in everyone makes you want to tell them the truth, not spin a bunch of conspiracy lies at them.

[FlanaganHilton · Rating 2 out of 5]

Could have been an interesting essay