Escaping the YouTube Circus: On Conspiracy, the Gospel, and Disengagement

Written on March 23, 2025.

Escaping the YouTube Circus: On Conspiracy, the Gospel, and Disengagement

There’s a line from a sermon that sticks out: "There are people out there that will call anybody a Freemason, a witch, or a warlock, or a government agent. And I'm talking about people like Paul Washer." This line, while aimed at refuting conspiracy-based accusations, also reveals something deeper about dynamics within online ministry—especially inside the faith-alone, Free Grace movement.

I've spent time in that world. I’ve listened to sermons, made videos, been called things, and seen the way people’s reputations rise and fall based on suspicion, doctrine, or even perceived employment status. What I’ve come to realize is that sometimes, trying to maintain fellowship in these circles becomes its own trap. And leaving is not defeat—it can be deliverance.

On Conspiracy Thinking

Let’s start here: I believe in conspiracies.

Not the cartoon version with lizard people behind every door, but the biblical kind. "Money answereth all things" (Ecclesiastes 10:19), and that means Mammon is not neutral. Systems of control exist. People conspire. That’s not crazy—it’s historical, political, and biblical. Conspiracy is a KJV word, not a delusion.

Back around 2012, I was recognized in the YouTube conspiracy space. I still carry that awareness today. I believe some people, even the so-called crazy ones, are often intuitively right about what’s going on. The problem isn’t the perception—it’s what people do with it.

That’s where things break down.

Some begin to see patterns in everything and start attacking others with no restraint or grace. When the instinct to expose becomes personalized, accusatory, and emotional, it stops being helpful. It becomes toxic.

Gospel or Password?

In the Free Grace movement, the dividing line is clear: those who preach salvation by grace through faith alone are in; those who add works are out. But even here, something else creeps in—a kind of doctrinal password game.

Anyone can say "faith alone," but that doesn't prove they're truly born again. Online, especially, there's no way to verify someone's spirit. You can say the right words and still carry the spirit of control, paranoia, or pride—the same spirit that drives false teachers.

A person can affirm the gospel and yet act indistinguishably from the very people Free Grace warns against.

When Accusation Becomes a Weapon

I’ve seen how accusations become a social currency. People get labeled: a government agent, a sellout, a devil, a spy. And often, the people who throw these accusations around claim to be victims themselves. They’ll say the system is after them—and maybe it is—but then they become part of the same dynamic they claim to oppose.

I was on the receiving end of this. Someone who preaches grace lashed out at me when they found out I was on a sick pension. I had reported their channel after repeated personal attacks. Their response wasn’t grace—it was rage. Not long after, I disengaged entirely.

Work as a Spiritual Weapon

There’s a subtle trend in these communities: shaming people who don’t work. "Paul made tents." "He who doesn’t work shouldn’t eat." Verses are thrown like darts to imply weakness, failure, or laziness.

But sick pension is not laziness. Chronic illness is not rebellion. And weaponizing Scripture against those who can't meet traditional productivity standards is cruel. It's not biblical correction—it's gaslighting.

When spiritual communities start using verses to marginalize the weak instead of uplift them, they stop reflecting Christ. That’s when it's time to leave.

Escaping the Loop

Eventually, I stepped away from YouTube. The feedback loop of comment–reply–attack–response became a trap. It blurred the line between truth and drama. It wasn’t just mentally exhausting—it was spiritually corrosive.

Instead, I built my own site: prophetmattias.com. I stopped chasing algorithmic validation and started writing. Quietly. Clearly. Outside the loop.

If people want to find my work, they can. If not, that's fine too. I’m no longer fighting to be seen. I’m simply holding the line.

Conclusion

Not every conspiracy theorist is wrong. Not every doctrinal warrior is right. The issue isn't always theology or intuition—it’s what spirit is behind the behavior.

There’s wisdom in this: "The servant of the Lord must not strive; but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient" (2 Timothy 2:24).

Disengagement, for me, was not cowardice. It was clarity. I chose peace over drama, and truth over noise. And that’s a kind of spiritual war worth winning.