The Truth Fairy

~ What if Christians valued truth more than politics and theology? ~

You are rolling over in bed when your fingertips brush something under the pillow.

What is it? you wordlessly wonder.

You pull out a small note and sit up in bed. Out of curiosity, you turn on the lamp and read. It’s only a few words, a simple imperative.

“SAY MY NAME” is written in bold, block letters.

“Hmm.” You gaze at it a moment before reading — out loud — the signature at the bottom of the page: “The Truth Fairy.”

In the wink of an eye, you are flying over an incredible panorama — a magic sort-of kingdom, with fake alpine peaks, golf courses, lakes, beaches, topiary gardens and tidy neighborhoods with steepled churches on many of the corners.

“Like a scene from a fairytale,” you say in wonderment.

“This is no fairytale.”

You turn to see a spry green fairy with flitting wings. She is grabbing your arm with a tiny fist, flying you across the surrealistic landscape.

Again she says, “This is no fairytale. It’s the real deal.”

“But … but …” You are flabbergasted, trying to process these extraordinary affairs. You would pinch yourself but the little sprite is already doing it for you.

“But you’re a fairy,” you say in exasperation.

“I’m the Truth Fairy,” she says with emphasis and distinction. “But this is no fairytale. It’s the authentic Kingdom of God … American style.”

“The Kingdom of God?” you say with skepticism.

“That’s right,” she says. “American style.”

On closer inspection, you see ubiquitous crosses and statues of Jesus and Ten Commandment billboards. You are troubled, however, to see smoke-belching factories, crumbling tenements and trash-strewn empty lots just outside the walls of this fantasyland.

“All of this finery,” you say, gesturing toward a hillside of greenways and alluring villas, “is a lot different than the real world out there.”

“I think you have it backwards,” your guide is quick to reply. “This is the real world.”

The Truth Fairy sets you down in what looks to be a movie set depicting a quaint New England town, with shops, park benches, street trees and dapper men, women and children dressed in 1950s costume. A quartet in front of the soda fountain sings “Amazing Grace.”

A suited man with the brightest teeth you’ve ever seen greets you with an outstretched hand. “Welcome to the Kingdom of God,” he says. “American style.”

“Uh … hi,” you say, shaking his hand.

“We do so appreciate our visitors,” he says with the resonance of a practiced orator. “You bless us with your presence today. As a token of our appreciation, we’d like to share with you some resources that will enrich your life.” He hands you a packet of spiritual tracts. “Moreover, the ladies at our welcome kiosk will be happy to answer your questions and serve you a complementary 12 ounce cup of coffee.”

He pauses to primp his hair in a storefront window.

“We do hope you’ll join us for a hymn-sing in the park in 30 minutes.” With a fraternal pat on the shoulder he says, “Be blessed, my friend, and thank you for coming.”

As he turns to go, your fairy guide says, “That’s Senior Pastor Rob.”

“Ah, okay,” you say, feeling a bit overwhelmed. You turn to your guide, who has released you from her hold. “If this is what you call a church,” you say, “it’s definitely not typical.”

The Truth Fairy erupts with a twittering laugh. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she says.

“Everything here seems so … so extravagant. So much larger than life. As if you’re flaunting your fortune to the world.”

“We are not ashamed of the gospel of Christ,” says the Truth Fairy. “And yes, it is larger than life. It is God’s intangible kingdom made tangible here on earth, American style. We celebrate life, love, truth and modern capitalism, as found in our unique interpretation of the Bible, American style. All of this highlights the stark difference between the unenlightened people of the world and the enlightened people of God.”

You turn to see a sharp-dressed man with slicked-back hair escorting a woman with a poodle skirt and ponytail down the sidewalk.

“What’s with the old-timey costumes and props,” you say. “Hasn’t the 21^st century made it here yet?”

“We are giving the world a picture of how much better life can be after praying the sinner’s prayer and asking Jesus into your heart. We are reminding them of a simpler time in our history, when people respected godliness and family values. As an inspiration for the future, we remember how great America once was. Everything you see here …” She sweeps her hand in an arc. “… illustrates what it looks like to live life God’s way.”

“God’s way?” you say.

“God’s way of parenting,” says the Truth Fairy. “God’s way of dating. God’s way of staying married … of working hard … of making money … of obedience.”

“Obedience,” you say, rolling the syllables slowly across your lips. “Obedience to God and man and government and … and father and husband?”

“All of the above,” she says with a bright smile.

“Hmm. And master and pastor too, I suppose. Sounds like God has his fingers in just about every pie.”

“It’s laid out clearly in the inerrant word of God.”

“Inerrant,” you say, “as in there’s no room for discussion?”

“No room for discussion,” she says with a shrug.

The concept is unsettling. No wonder there are thousands of different Christian denominations across the globe, all claiming inerrant revelation. No room for discussion.

Your gaze drifts down the street, alighting on a sign that reads Truth Central Bookstore.

“Truth Central,” you say aloud.

“That’s the heart of our faith,” your companion says. “Do you want to take a look inside?”

“Sure.”

You toss the packet of tracts on a park bench and follow your guide to the bookstore.

Inside Truth Central, your senses are stimulated by virtuous music, quiet conversation, the rich smell of coffee and the muted lighting of a coffee shop called “Holy Grounds.” The Truth Fairy leads you deeper into what looks to be a typical Christian bookstore. You see sections labeled Parenting, Health & Beauty, Politics, Pro-Life, Righteous Romance, Home Schooling, Preparedness, Money Management and Bible Study.

“My job as the Truth Fairy is to lead you to the truth that will set you free,” she says. “You’ll find everything you need right here to awaken your heart, mind and soul.”

She picks up a book titled America’s Great and Glorious Past. You thumb through the pages, seeing glossy photos of all the rich white men who made America strong and wealthy. Many hold Bibles or wear crosses.

“Well, that’s one way of looking at our history,” you say, handing the book back. “But what about this title here?”

As you reach for a book called Hard Truths about America’s Past, something strange happens. Your fingers are deflected from the book. You can’t reach it.

“What the hell …?!”

“Language!” your guide says with an urgent glance over her shoulder.

You try to grab the book again and are frustrated.

“I can’t get it,” you exclaim.

“That’s because you’re reaching for the wrong title. This one here is the approved book on American history.”

“You only allow one perspective on American history?” you say in amazement.

“That’s right. It’s not good stewardship of mind and resource to venture too far from the truth. We must not throw our pearls before swine. Oh! And here are two more books you really must read.”

She picks up a book called The Immigrant Invasion and another called Laziness and Greed: A Guide to Social Policy.

“You have got to be kidding!” you say with skepticism. “You get your information from these biased titles?”

“Biased?” she says, sounding offended. “Bias is what you get from the secular publishers. You can’t trust anything they say.”

“But what about this one?” you ask, reaching for a book called Truth, Love and Justice for the Small and the Tall. Again, your hand is deflected.

“I can’t get the stupid book!” you shout.

“Inside voice!” says your slight friend with furrowed brows.

Ignoring the fairy, you lean forward and examine the inaccessible book from all angles, poking and prodding with your fingers.

“Oh, I see,” you say in astonishment. “It’s mirrors.”

You reach sequentially for a series of titles on truth: The Truth about Conspiracies. The Truth about the Pandemic; The Truth about Election Integrity; The Truth about Generational Oppression; The Truth about Rich Christians; The Truth about Refugees of War and Climate; The Truth of Biblical Literalism and Oppression. Your fingers are deflected from each one.

The fairy gives a pathetic wag of her head. “I told you not to trust those publishers. It’s all secular humanist propaganda.”

“So the only sources you trust are your fundamentalist authors and publishers.”

“That’s right. It’s the same with our TV, radio and internet news. That’s how we discover truth in the Kingdom of God, American style. That’s how we do things God’s way in the Kingdom of God …”

“American style,” you say in unison with the fairy. Stunned, you gape open-mouthed at the books and shelves and religious patrons.

It’s not real. The perspective is all wrong. The books are all shimmering with an unnatural light.

“This bookstore is nothing more than a house of mirrors,” you exclaim. “Everything you’ve shown me is a circus!”

“It’s a church,” says your friend, “not a circus.”

“Your 1950s main street … all the fake book titles … the magic sort of kingdom … the walls to keep your money in and the riffraff out … it’s all a fantasy! It’s all a delusion!”

“On the contrary,” says your guide with a smug, know-it-all expression. “Non-Christians are deceived, not us. The world cannot know truth when they don’t know Jesus, who is Truth.”

“When you’re in a court of law trying to learn the facts, you don’t gag half of the witnesses,” you say. “And yet that’s exactly what you’re doing here. If we were blind men trying to size up an elephant, we’d compare notes, right? You can’t just shut down other people’s perception of truth, even if those people come from a different perspective.”

The Truth Fairy throws back her head and laughs. “We don’t need heathens to guide us into truth! We are guided by the Holy Spirit! God gives us an omniscient view of that elephant, my friend. We don’t need to ask blind men for help. As if we were children! Ha! Ha! God is our ever-present help! We have no need of fools who sell lies and half-truths and fake news.”

Stunned, you gape and shake your head, barely able to believe the logic you are hearing. Gradually you fill your lungs, then speak with vehemence.

“That is one of the most arrogant statements I have ever heard,” you say. “And dangerous. Without the checks and balances of other people’s opinions, you are vulnerable to the worst deception imaginable. You are opening your minds to the next Hitler or Stalin who speaks your religious language and claims to support your causes.”

The Truth Fairy rolls her eyes, looking bored. She stares up at a clock on the wall for a moment before speaking. “You don’t know what it means to be rooted in the immovable word of God. You don’t know what it’s like to be shielded by devotion and piety and religious monuments and plaques and hymn-sings. Suffice to say, we are not capable of being deceived, like you are. As we perform our religious rituals and pray and fast and seek God’s voice, he leads us to support the proper causes and leaders.”

You take a step back and turn toward the door, wondering how to get home without your fairy guide. As you put a hand on the doorknob, you turn to face the Truth Fairy. “If you are more committed your party and your politicians than you are to truth,” you say, “you are no Truth Fairy, but the most deceived of all.”

In a flash, you are sitting on your mattress. Your heart is pounding and beads of sweat stand out on your forehead.

“Truth Fairy indeed!” you exclaim, flopping backward onto your pillow.

The Truth Fairy. Image by jplenio / Pixibay.com.