Unpacking #11: Cognitive Dissonance and Avoidance
How the Christian Church Rewrites God to Stay Comfortable
If you’re not a critical thinker, don’t even read the rest of the article.
I’m serious.
This isn’t written for people who want comfort, slogans, or spiritual sedation. This is written for people willing to watch their own mind work in real time… and admit when they’ve been editing God to reduce internal friction.
Because that’s what this is about.
Not mystical “deception.” Not spooky spiritual fog. Not end-times theatrics.
Psychology.
Human beings avoid cognitive dissonance the way we avoid pain. We don’t do it because we’re evil. We do it because our nervous system prefers coherence and social safety over reality. And when reality threatens identity, the mind doesn’t calmly adjust. It protects the self.
That’s the whole game.
And modern Christianity is full of it.
The Quiet Renovation: How People Change God Without Leaving Him
Most people don’t reject God.
They renovate Him.
That’s the part that should bother you. Because rejecting God outright is at least honest. It’s a clean line. “I don’t believe.”
But renovating God lets you keep the benefits of religious belonging without the discomfort of submission. You keep the vocabulary. You keep the social circle. You keep the emotional highs. You keep the identity.
And you quietly remove the edges.
You keep the name “Jesus,” but you edit out the parts of Him that press on you.
You keep “God,” but you abstract Him into a safe concept.
You keep “grace,” but you redefine it into relief from accountability.
That’s not a theological accusation.
That’s a psychological description.
Cognitive Dissonance: The Mental Pain You’ll Do Anything to Escape
Cognitive dissonance is the mental friction you feel when two things don’t fit together:
“I love God” and “I don’t want to obey Him.”
“Scripture is true” and “This passage makes me uncomfortable.”
“God is holy” and “I still want to keep my preferred sin.”
Dissonance feels like internal threat. Not because it’s mystical. Because the brain hates unresolved contradiction.
So we reduce it.
Not usually by changing our behavior. That’s hard. That costs something.
We reduce it by changing the story.
Here are the most common moves people use to avoid dissonance:
Change the belief: “God isn’t like that.”
Reinterpret the evidence: “That passage doesn’t mean what it says.”
Add a buffer belief: “Grace means I’m covered no matter what.”
Shift blame: “That’s legalism / works / Jewish.”
Use social proof: “My pastor says this, so I’m fine.”
Now watch what happens when the God of the Bible presses against comfort, tradition, or identity.
God Has a Name: That’s Why He Offends Your Autonomy
God doesn’t introduce Himself as a vague spiritual idea. He names Himself.
That matters psychologically.
Because a named identity is a boundary. A boundary means you don’t get to customize. You don’t get to retrofit the person into your preferences and call it relationship.
If God is real—if He is Someone—then He is not a personality you build. He is not a brand you shape. He is not a projection of your inner needs.
And here’s what human nature does when it encounters a boundary:
It pushes.
Not always loudly. Often subtly.
And when identity is threatened, humans don’t get curious.
They get defensive.
The Three Triggers That Make People Edit God
This is where the “renovation” happens. Not because people wake up and decide, “Today I’ll lie about God.”
It happens because pressure creates dissonance.
And dissonance creates avoidance.
1) Comfort: Don’t Touch My Control
God presses on self-rule.
Submission. Obedience. Accountability. Sacrifice.
That collides with the modern self: I’m autonomous. I decide what’s good for me.
So the mind makes an edit.
Grace becomes insulation.
Freedom becomes exemption.
Love becomes affirmation without authority.
And suddenly… God “agrees” with you.
Convenient.
2) Tribe: If I Admit This, I Lose My People
God presses on inherited systems.
Maybe you were raised in a church culture where certain doctrines are treated like sacred family heirlooms. Questioning them feels like betrayal. Not just disagreement—betrayal.
So even if Scripture disrupts the system, you don’t change the system.
You reinterpret Scripture.
Because belonging feels safer than truth.
And truth costs more than people want to pay.
3) Incentives: Truth Will Cost Me Something
This one is brutal, and it’s real.
God presses on money, platform, reputation, job security.
If you teach certain things plainly, you lose support. You lose applause. You lose donors. You lose the gig.
So the mind doesn’t usually say, “I’m afraid.”
It says, “Let’s keep it balanced.”
And “balanced” becomes the permission slip to never land anywhere concrete.
Ambiguity becomes virtue.
The God Makeover: The Step-by-Step Edit Nobody Admits They’re Making
This is the anatomy. You’ve seen it. You might’ve done it.
Step one: keep the sacred words
Jesus. Grace. Gospel. Love. Freedom. Faith.
We keep the vocabulary because it protects identity.
Step two: swap the definitions
Grace = non-accountability
Freedom = no obligations
Love = affirmation without authority
Faith = agreement without embodied loyalty
Now you can say all the right things and still dodge the weight.
Step three: label the discomfort so you can kill the conversation
This is where the conversation dies.
“Legalism.”
“Works.”
“Pharisee.”
Notice how those words often function like a psychological alarm system: shut it down, shut it down, shut it down.
The moment obedience enters the room, someone yells “legalism” like a fire alarm.
And everyone relaxes.
Because the discomfort is gone.
Step four: invent a villain category so you don’t have to wrestle
This is where it gets ugly.
“Jewish” becomes shorthand for everything the modern church doesn’t want:
Structure. Obligation. Particularity. Covenant.
So we don’t have to wrestle with the Jewish frame of the Bible. We can dismiss it with a label.
Step five: let the crowd reward the edit until it feels like truth
Applause. Confidence. Group safety.
And once a community reinforces the edit, it becomes “truth” by repetition.
Why Obedience Triggers People: Because Truth Isn’t a Product
This part matters because it explains why people react so hard.
Some people hear “obedience” and they don’t think “loyalty.” They think “control.”
Because they’ve been conditioned.
If leaders used Scripture to manipulate, shame, or dominate, then obligation becomes emotionally coded as danger. The nervous system remembers. So anything that resembles authority triggers resistance.
That’s not mystical.
That’s biology plus history.
And there’s another layer people rarely say out loud: the truth is not marketable. It’s not profitable. It requires self-sacrifice and diligence, which the majority of people do not want to engage in. So “obedience” doesn’t just feel emotionally threatening — it feels economically and socially threatening. It costs comfort. It costs momentum. It costs the shallow kind of growth that depends on telling people what they want to hear.
But here’s the trap: instead of healing the association and recovering mature agency, many people eliminate obligation altogether.
They don’t become freer.
They become more interpretive.
They get better at reframing.
And reframing becomes their religion.
“Jewish” as a Scapegoat: The Cleanest Way to Dodge Covenant Reality
A lot of modern Christianity keeps God at a distance by making Him abstract.
“God of creation” sounds universal and safe.
“God of Israel” sounds specific and demanding.
Abstract God doesn’t require you to locate yourself in a covenant story. He doesn’t require you to deal with Israel, covenant continuity, obedience, or the Jewish soil of the Scriptures.
Abstract God lets you belong without surrender.
And psychologically, that’s the entire point.
If covenant implies obligation, call it “religion.”
If it feels Jewish, call it “regression.”
And now the mind is comfortable again.
Before “Jew,” There Was Abraham: Don’t Use the Word as an Escape Hatch
This is where a lot of conversations go sideways.
People hear “Jewish” and react as if the whole story starts there—either to dismiss covenant obedience (“that’s Jewish”) or to claim depth by attaching themselves to a label.
But Scripture doesn’t start with “Jew.” It starts with Noah, and then it puts a spotlight on Abraham—long before rabbinic tradition, long before later identity arguments, long before anyone weaponized categories to shut down obedience.
That matters for this article because “Jew” can become an excuse in both directions:
a shortcut for rejecting covenant realities you don’t want, or
a shortcut for adopting an identity so you don’t have to do the deeper work of Scripture-first fidelity.
So when someone says, “The faith of Abraham began before Jewish tradition,” they’re pointing at something real: the covenant story is older than later tradition layers. But here’s the critical thinking step most people skip…
You can’t use “tradition came later” as permission to dismiss the covenant storyline that runs through Israel, is carriedby Israel, and is embodied in Yeshua.
In other words: yes—Abraham precedes later traditions. And yes—Noah precedes Abraham. But the point isn’t to weaponize that as a bypass. The point is to let it expose the same cognitive habit:
When pressure shows up, people reach for a label to avoid submission.
That’s what we’re talking about.
The Mistake That Ruins Everything: Confusing Rabbinic Judaism With the Root
This is one of the biggest mental shortcuts in the entire conversation, and it fuels endless bad conclusions.
People talk about “Judaism” like it’s one thing.
It’s not.
Many Christians collapse Rabbinic Judaism—a tradition stream with its own interpretive authority structures—into “the root” of biblical faith itself.
Then they do one of two things:
They reject it wholesale and call it spiritual maturity.
Or they adopt it uncritically and call it depth.
Either way, they miss the root.
And here’s the psychological function: this confusion becomes an escape hatch.
If you can label covenant obedience as “Rabbinic,” you can dismiss it without admitting you’re avoiding submission. You don’t have to wrestle with Scripture. You can just dismiss a category.
Or, if you’re drawn to Jewishness, you can adopt Rabbinic structure as a ready-made identity and never do the hard work of Scripture-first fidelity. You inherit a system and call it maturity.
But the root isn’t a tribe-war.
The root is Scripture-rooted covenant faithfulness.
And that’s what Yeshua actually held to and embodied. Not rebellion. Not abstraction. Covenant reality.
Yeshua wasn’t “anti-Jewish.” That’s a lazy frame.
He confronted hypocrisy, power games, and tradition used to override God’s commands. He operated inside Israel’s covenant story, anchored in the written Word.
And here’s the counter-intuitive piece most people don’t even know exists:
Karaites are a small group that emphasize Scripture (Tanakh) over later rabbinic tradition as controlling authority. They matter here because their existence exposes the shortcut people take: reacting to “Rabbinic Judaism” as a proxy, instead of dealing with what Scripture actually says.
When people can’t tell the difference between root and tradition layer, they don’t just get history wrong.
They get permission wrong.
The Church as a Machine: How Institutions Train Avoidance
Zoom out.
Even if individuals mean well, institutions are shaped by incentives.
Churches reward:
certainty over humility
branding over truth
momentum over repentance
inspiration over transformation
A “powerful service” can function like a pressure valve: it releases tension without requiring change. People leave feeling lighter, but unchanged.
And sermons are often optimized for retention, not friction.
Friction costs money.
So discomfort gets labeled “not God,” instead of being recognized as the moment where real maturity begins.
The Red Flags: How to Spot God-Editing in Real Time
You’ll know it’s happening when:
Grace is preached constantly, but repentance is treated as “too intense.”
Obedience triggers instant mockery or defensiveness.
Submission gets reframed as bondage.
Scripture becomes slogan-prooftexted.
“Relationship” is used as an exemption card.
People are busy in ministry but fragile in character.
Israel and covenant categories are treated as irrelevant or embarrassing.
The least correctable voices are often the most celebrated.
That last one lands hard.
Matthew 7:23 Is the Freeze Frame Nobody Wants
People treat religious activity like proof of intimacy.
But the warning cuts through that illusion: you can be active, gifted, loud, and “in ministry”… and still not know Him.
Not because God is unfair.
Because you can use a name while refusing a person.
You can be productive while staying avoidant.
Here’s the question that should sober anyone:
What if the scariest self-deception is being certain you know Him because you’re effective around Him?
Hebrew Roots Goes Halfway — Then Deletes the Jewishness Anyway
Hebrew Roots (big umbrella term in the Christian world for folks who embrace Torah, feasts, Sabbath, etc.) gets half way there. They do the same exact thing and remove the Jewishness of the Bible.
Same mechanism, new costume.
Hebrew aesthetics and vocabulary can become a new identity buffer. People adopt fragments—feasts, Hebrew terms, outward markers—while still resisting the deeper Jewish frame:
Israel’s election. Covenant continuity. Jewish authorship. Jewish context. The implications of being grafted in rather than becoming the new center.
So the Bible becomes Hebrew-flavored without staying inside Israel’s story.
“Jewish” becomes a costume instead of a covenant reality.
Yeshua is kept, but His Jewish particularity gets softened because it costs too much.
Same dissonance.
Same avoidance.
Different tribe.
The Most Dangerous Sentence: “Many Will Know Who I Am; They Simply Don’t”
Many will know who I am; they simply don’t.
People know the public version: the brand, the slogans, the mascot.
They don’t know the actual God as He defined Himself—His identity, His covenant boundaries, His ways, His storyline.
A reshaped god never contradicts you, so he’s easy to “know.”
The real God cannot be known without surrender, because He refuses editing.
If your god never confronts you, you’re not in relationship.
You’re in projection.
Familiarity isn’t intimacy.
Noise isn’t knowledge.
The Two Jesuses: One Removes Dissonance, One Reveals It
Here’s where the mind gets caught.
Because you can keep the name “Jesus” and still functionally follow a different person.
The “Safe Jesus” (dissonance relief)
Exists to reassure, not to rule.
Affirms identity more than He reforms character.
“Grace” functions like insulation: nothing truly has to change.
Never gets too specific, never gets too Jewish, never gets too demanding.
Makes people feel spiritually approved while staying psychologically unchallenged.
Outcome: low friction, high confidence, minimal surrender.
The real Jesus (covenant-anchored)
Calls for loyalty, not just admiration.
Presses on autonomy: “Follow Me” means you don’t lead anymore.
Makes grace weighty because it’s married to truth.
Stays inside Israel’s covenant story (not abstracted into a universal mascot).
Exposes hypocrisy, self-deception, and performance religion.
Outcome: higher friction, deeper transformation, real submission.
Now the diagnostic question:
Which Jesus does your church culture actually preach?
The one that removes dissonance…
Or the one that reveals it and demands a response?
Repentance Isn’t a Feeling — It’s Reality Contact
Repentance isn’t a vibe. It’s reality contact.
It looks like:
Naming the dissonance honestly: “I don’t want this to be true because it costs me.”
Stop using labels as shields: “legalism” as a shutdown word.
Practicing discomfort tolerance: holding tension without rushing into edits.
Rebuilding integrity: aligning behavior with what you claim to believe.
Reframing obedience correctly: not currency to earn, but fruit of loyalty.
Recovering covenant reality: God is who He says He is, and you don’t get to rename Him for comfort.
This is where people either become free…
Or become clever.
Once You’re Shown, You’re Responsible
Here’s the hard part about cognitive dissonance.
Once it’s exposed, you don’t get to unsee it.
That’s why this isn’t just “a thought.” It’s a confrontation. Not with a church. Not with a denomination. With your own mind. With the quiet ways you’ve learned to reduce friction instead of pursuing truth.
And here’s where I’m going to tie it all together, like the first passage in Revelation:
“When you’re revealed, there’s accountability. Now what are you going to do with it?”
That’s the moment.
Because once you realize you’ve been renovating God—softening Him, abstracting Him, rebranding Him into someone safer—neutrality stops being an option. You’re not just learning information anymore. You’re being given light.
And light demands response.
So the question isn’t whether you agree with me.
The question is whether you’re willing to stop using labels as shields, stop using slogans as sedatives, stop using “grace” as insulation, and stop outsourcing your conscience to group reinforcement.
Will you keep reshaping Him into someone comfortable…
Or will you let Him be who He says He is?
And then live like it.
May the shalom of our Abba guard you —
shalom v’shalvah.
Your brother in the Way,
Sergio.
This article is a seven course meal. Now, I must go back to the top and clean the plates thoroughly. Then go back for seconds. I know it’ll be worth the discomfort of being stuffed.
Thanks Sergio. It couldn’t have been easy to think through and write.
I must ask myself which rooms of God’s house am I trying to renovate for my own comfort? And what do I do with the answer?
So true. And I would add one more catagory. On certain well shall we say, topics where we divide, like free will,vs election, stress the scriptures that support your position and do all the things you said with the ones that don't