As analogies go, it doesn’t get more perfect. It’s the idea that likens deception to becoming entangled in a spider’s web. The “web of lies” parallel is easy to grasp for even the simplest among us. An insect caught in a web can’t escape by simply moving to another thread. It will become stuck to that thread as well as the one it just tried to leave and ends up being even more stuck. It’s the same with lies. If you try to remain standing in a lie, your next step will be affected by it, and sooner or later the web will leave you trapped, and easy prey for an enemy.

For a book about lies, Rosaria Butterfield’s “Five Lies of Our Anti-Christian Age” (Crossway, 2023) sure does contain a lot of truth. But only truth — often unvarnished — can expose deception for what it is. Just as only a sharp pull can free the victim of a spider’s web, those caught in a web of lies often need a truth in the form of a jolt to be untangled.

Untangling oneself from deception isn’t always comfortable. It doesn’t feel good when the band-aid is ripped from the wound. From time to time the deceived are extracted gradually, but a partial revelation of the truth doesn’t always convey the vast chasm of deception into which we have fallen.

Butterfield’s offering comes in the form of fresh, unadulterated truth — the kind that’s not afraid to step on the toes of those caught in deception. Hurt toes are a small price to pay for walking in the truth, even if you do end up with a limp. Limping or not, staying on the path beats falling into the abyss any day.

Lies that lead us astray have only multiplied since the serpent in the garden suggested, “Did God really say?” There are plenty to go around, but Butterfield narrows her focus to five. The lies she sees as particularly plaguing today are:

1. Homosexuality is normal.
2. Being a spiritual person is kinder than being a biblical Christian.
3. Feminism is good for the world and the church.
4. Transgenderism is normal.
5. Modesty is an outdated burden that serves male dominance and holds women back.

Butterfield’s five lies may not be top-of-mind for everyone, but nearly every North American Christian is affected by them. Take the lie that homosexuality is normal, for example. The ubiquity of homosexuality portrayed in media and advertising lends credence to the notion that it’s just another part of everyday life — even to the point of infiltrating the church. Sure, progressive churches have long accepted and celebrated homosexuality, but its normalization has affected more conservative churches as well. Butterfield speaks specifically against the ideas of homosexual identity and the so-called gay Christian movement. She doesn’t mince words: it is sin, and those involved with it are in need of repentance.

Butterfield’s biography plays heavily into her narrative. She once identified as “a women-centered, pacifist, lesbian vegetarian” who “hated everything to do with the Bible.” After meeting Christians who patiently, thoroughly, and lovingly explained the gospel to her, she was converted. She walked away from that identity at great personal cost. But her biography is most certainly not her rationale — it’s merely supporting evidence.

Butterfield’s solutions aren’t novel — in fact, they’re demonstrably old. The solution to these lies, of course, is truth. But it’s not truth found only in experience, rather it’s the revealed truth given to us in Scripture. For Butterfield, these lies aren’t prickly cultural nuances. They are sin. The solution to being shaped by lies is to be transformed by Christ, to repent from sin and believe the truth.

Particularly helpful is the characterization of our current age as “anti-Christian” versus the oft-used “post-Christian.” After all, we Christians are still here, and Christ’s church still stands. But our age is increasingly negative toward Christianity. Where faith may have once held prominence, it’s now an object of derision. Derision leaves no room for complex nuance, hence Butterfield’s simple, repent-and-believe-the-truth approach to dealing with lies.

None of Butterfield’s lies are easy topics. They divide us at the societal level, the church level, and down to the relationship level. They envelop the things you don’t discuss at family get togethers — politics and religion. But the difficulty of an issue underscores the need to deal with it — not how to avoid it.

Butterfield’s motivation is found in the latter part of the book as she sums up a quote by church reformer John Calvin. She writes, “To a Christian, the rage of the whole world is nothing — nothing, that is, compared to the grace and power of God.”

And maybe that’s the simplicity in Rosaria Butterfield’s approach to our anti-Christian age. The world can rage all it wants against Christ and his truth, but all its rage is no match for his grace. Make no mistake: this book is ultimately not about lies. Sure, the reader will walk away with a sharp assessment of these lies (perhaps with some sore toes). But it’s the truth of God’s grace that Butterfield gives that will keep the reader free from the enemy’s web of lies.