I just wanted a cup of iced coffee on a hot afternoon in Florida. That’s all I was looking for, not something that would haunt me for the next week and probably longer.
My husband and I took a walk a few blocks up the road from our rented townhouse to a coffee shop he’d found on TripAdvisor. There was a food truck outside under a permanent awning selling fresh tacos and burrito bowls. Next to the food truck were some thoughtfully placed picnic tables, what looked like a stage, and a large watering trough. A gravel path led to the side door of the coffee shop. Inside a barista with huge dreads and an 80s mustache took our order while I took in the delightfully hippy vibes of the shop. There seemed to be some type of store on the other side of the coffee shop, so after getting our drinks we meandered over to have a look.
It was a surf shop. The walls were covered with polaroid snapshots of everyone who had purchased a surf board going back to the 1980s. You could buy surf boards, skim boards, and boogie boards along with gear to go with them.
But as we looked around, we began to notice a strange collection of Christian things as well. In the middle of the store there was a keyboard and speaker/microphone set up with a sign encouraging spontaneous worship. I heard an older man talking excitedly with some customers about how surfing connects with God. What was this place?
We came back two more times to eat at the food truck—once for lunch and once for breakfast. The place was always packed. Inside, the same older gentleman was always wandering around ready to have a conversation about God. I avoided him because something felt off; I didn’t want our conversation to turn into conflict.
On our third and last visit we were browsing the surf shop with our kids. I noticed prayer shawls for sale and also draped a few places throughout the shop. Prayer shawls like I recently bought from Amazon. I also saw some books that appeared to encourage faith healing and other promise based spiritual formulas. I overheard the familiar voice of the older man passionately telling a woman that we were all Jews now because we had been grafted into Israel.
“They like spontaneous worship, do you think the animal trough outside is for spontaneous baptism?” I asked my husband. He guessed that it probably was.
This was an intense store doing intense ministry in the name of Jesus with random strangers. You’d think I’d be excited. Why was I so uncomfortable?
Because even though they had the best of intentions, many of the “Christian” ideas this shop promoted were only almost true. And things that are almost true—twisted truths—are still lies.
I had the best of intentions twenty-plus years ago when I sat across a table from the parents of a girl in my Bible study and walked them through a diagram from my cult explaining the “reasons” their thirteen year old daughter struggled with depression to the point of harming herself. My intentions were good and I used Bible verses to back up my points, but I was still giving them twisted truth. I was still spewing lies.
I’d say modern Christianity is full of half-truths and outright lies, but I think it has always been this way. The Apostle Paul warned of false prophets and even named a few false teachers to avoid. Jesus told His disciples to watch out for wolves in sheep clothing and anti-christs claiming to be Him.
The most dangerous lies are the ones that are the closest to truth. They are the hardest to pick apart and reject without rejecting everything. I hate that.
I looked up the website of the surf shop before I wrote this article to get a better grasp on what was really going on. It’s literally being run as a ministry by a couple who want to spread Jesus. Good intentions. There is a portion of the website dedicated to testimonies of people who have come to the shop and either been healed, or met Jesus, or been baptized in the spirit, etc. It sounds great. Yet I feel hesitant.
I know that the real God can use anything to draw people to Himself. I’m not discounting that fact. But what about the people who get taken back to the Prayer Corner, sit on the old surf board, have a prayer shawl draped over them, are anointed with oil and prayed over, expect healing, and then don’t get it? (This information about what they do is all from the website.) It’s the many formulas that bothered me the most. The use of the prayer shawl like a magic talisman. The twisted truths woven into the conversations. The false promises based on false ideas of God, our ability to control His power, and His will to heal. I think the real Jesus probably does use that little surf shop, but I think the enemy does too.
This is why people are deconstructing their faith to the point of abandoning it completely. Because too many times they encounter a false faith, twisted truth, and a god who is made in a human image.
This is why I am passionate about actual truth, the real God, and the real Bible read in context and with an understanding of historical culture and purpose. I don’t want people to have to pick through things that are almost true like I did. I don’t want people to walk away from Jesus when they never actually met Him. I don’t want people to be disillusioned because they didn’t have enough faith to twist god’s arm.
So at the risk of appearing cynical, I will continue to expose lies even if they look good. I will continue to point out false teachings even if they are popular. I want to tell you truth that gives you hope in the midst of pain and suffering. I want you to find the real Jesus, peace in this broken world even if it never makes sense, and restoration with the God who created you.
You can also find me on Instagram, Facebook, my website, and on my podcast Looking for the Real God. I’d love to connect with you on any of these places!