Discernment in a World That Demands a Take

I want to say something honestly before I write any of this. I can't recall ever taking a take. I have a strong dislike for dishonesty — even when it costs me, I can't be bought. I say that and I know what it is: a declaration. Declarations made out loud carry weight in the spiritual realm, so I don't say it as pride. I say it as a prayer. Jesus, keep me in my word as I seek to ground myself in your Words. Because You see it all and I want to be found pleasing to You.

The Take

In certain circles, to be "on the take" means you've been purchased. Your position, your voice, your vote — no longer yours. Someone else is paying for them.

That's what a take is, even when the currency isn't money.

Most of the takes you encounter — in conversations, in churches, online — are purchased with acceptance. With belonging. With the feeling of being on the right side of the room. Someone hands you a position, and in exchange you get to feel included, righteous, safe. Nothing visible changes hands. But something changes hands. You gave them your voice. And now your voice belongs to whoever gave you the take.

The dangerous part is you often don't find out until you try to speak freely and discover you can't. The position you adopted came with conditions you didn't read. And when the room shifts, you shift with it — not because you thought it through, but because the social cost of staying put is higher than the cost of moving.

Most people don't realize they've sold something. The sale was too comfortable to feel like a sale.

Ananias and Sapphira

In the early church of Acts, something remarkable was happening. People were selling property and laying the full proceeds at the apostles' feet — voluntarily. Nobody required it. Barnabas did it genuinely: sold a field, brought everything. His name means Son of Encouragement, and he earned it. He's set up in the story deliberately, as the foil for what comes next.

What came next was Ananias and Sapphira.

They sold land too. But by private agreement they kept a portion, then Ananias came forward and laid the rest at the apostles' feet — performed as though it were the full amount. Nobody asked him to give everything. He chose to perform Barnabas-level generosity without Barnabas-level sacrifice.

Peter's response is not what you'd expect. He doesn't accuse Ananias of theft. He says: "While it remained, was it not your own? And after it was sold, was it not in your own control?" The money was theirs to keep. That was not the sin.

The sin was the performance. Buying the reputation without paying the price for it. And Peter names it plainly: "You have not lied to men but to God."

Ananias fell dead. Three hours later Sapphira walked in. Peter asked her directly. She confirmed the lie. She fell dead too. Great fear came on the whole church.

The take they accepted was community standing. The currency was approval — Barnabas-level respect inside a community where that meant everything. And it cost them everything. Because you can fool the room. You cannot fool the One the room belongs to.

The Restaurant Owner

I know a man who owned a restaurant. A second location came up — the kind of opportunity you wait years for. But the deal was done behind closed doors. Secret agreements, arrangements that bypassed the way these things are supposed to work. He took it. Got the restaurant.

Then it came to light. And he went to jail for it.

Here's the part that has stayed with me: when the moment came to mount a defense, to perform innocence, to take the second take — he didn't. He knew what he had done. He pled guilty.

I have a great deal of respect for that.

Not for the original decision — that cost him and others. But in the moment when the room offered him another deal, another performance, another way to buy his way out with a lie, he refused it. He could not undo the first take. But he would not compound it with a second one. And there is a kind of integrity in that — even inside a consequence — that the take can never give you.

He sat with what was true. That is harder than it sounds in a world that rewards performing your innocence all the way to the end.

Whose Voice Are You Speaking With?

The question isn't whether you have an opinion. It's whether the opinion is actually yours. Whether you arrived at it through honest examination, or whether someone handed it to you and you accepted the terms without reading them.

A lot of people are speaking loudly right now with voices that belong to someone else. They don't know it. The sale felt like nothing — a community, a sense of belonging, the comfort of being on the right side. But when the room shifts, they'll shift with it, because the currency that purchased their position is still in circulation.

You can fool the room. You cannot fool the One the room belongs to.

I'd rather hold less with honesty than perform something that isn't mine. And when I do plant a flag — I want it to be because of your conviction. Not because I am working the room.