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That Church By The Vape Shop — Vacation Bible School, Year Two In an alternate universe in which the physical location plan for That Church By The Vape Shop panned out, we had ourselves another Vacation Bible School. Last year's inaugural VBS produced three genuine conversions, one accidental baptism of a neighbor's cat, and a water balloon incident that Sister Velma has agreed not to discuss further provided certain parties remain anonymous. This year, emboldened by that suc

The informal afternoon crowd had mostly drifted out by the time the real conversation started, the way it usually did at That Church By The Vape Shop. Brother Earl was parked at a folding table nursing coffee from his dad’s old mug that said WORLD'S OKAYEST ACCOUNTANT, the kind of mug a man buys for himself because nobody else thought to. Pastor Peaches was working through a donut roughly the size of a tractor tire with the focused patience of a man who had clearly done this

I know this isn't fair. Real pastors spend hours preparing messages, and most of them sincerely love Jesus. They are not secretly plotting in underground volcano lairs while petting white cats and laughing about how they're going to ruin grace for everybody. And yet, sometimes when I’m sitting through a sermon, my brain hears something completely different than what is actually being said. Giving credit where it is due, the pastor begins well enough by paying lip service to

It was a typical afternoon at That Church By The Vape Shop. A brief note on the name, because visitors have questions: That Church By The Vape Shop is the sort of place you’d find located in a strip mall, which is a row of small businesses sharing a common wall and a parking lot that is never the right size for the number of people using it. A strip mall contains establishments such as a nail salon, a tax preparation office that is only open four months a year, a Chinese buff

That Church By the Vape Shop — Theological Digest Scene: That Church By the Vape Shop, Tuesday morning. The sanctuary smells like Pine-Sol, stale coffee, and whatever chemical compound they use to make gas-station breakfast burritos survive longer than some species of turtles. Sister Velma is stacking hymnals like defensive fortifications. Brother Earl has wandered in with a half-eaten corn dog, a task performed with the regularity of a spiritual discipline. Brother Zeke is t

By the time the visiting preacher arrived at "That Church By the Check-Cashing Place and the Questionable Vape Emporium," the neighborhood already knew something unusual was happening. Brother Clancy's church usually advertised revivals with a hand-painted plywood sign and maybe a balloon zip-tied to a folding chair if Sister Velma was feeling festive, but tonight there were fireworks — and not the legal kind. These were the kind that come out of a duffel bag sold by a man be

One of the strangest things about modern Bible discussions is watching people read ancient Jewish apocalyptic poetry like it’s a live emergency broadcast narrated by a caffeinated weatherman standing ankle-deep in a flooded Waffle House parking lot. “THE SUN HAS GONE DARK!” “THE STARS ARE FALLING!” “THE SKY IS ROLLING UP!” At which point somebody on YouTube immediately produces a four hour video with a thumbnail featuring flames, six blood moons, an AI-generated Jesus with g

Christians have always cared about integrity. One famous example comes from John Wesley, who wrote a list sometimes called “The 22 Questions of Self-Examination.” These questions were meant to help believers examine their hearts and lives honestly before God. And to be fair, that hunger for integrity is admirable. A person who genuinely wants their life to align with truth, love, and holiness is not the problem. The problem comes when self-examination quietly turns into somet

FORTY DAYS IN THE WILDERNESS (AND FIVE MINUTES IN OUR PARKING LOT) A Lenten Sermon by Reverend Leon “Peaches” Watkins The folding chairs looked like they had been there since the Carter administration. The coffee, which had been brewing since approximately the same era, could strip the finish off a '78 Buick. The drum kit in the corner appeared to have survived at least one minor flood. The cinderblock wall featured letters painted by someone who was very inspired and very ti

There is a predictable moment in Bible discussions when somebody bursts into the room like they just discovered the Ark of the Covenant in a storage locker across the street from a vape shop and says: “Wait… are you telling me Moses’ story sounds a little like Egyptian mythology?” At this point, half the internet clutches its pearls, the other half opens twelve Wikipedia tabs, and someone inevitably starts typing in all caps. A theology student screenshots something out of co

Let's be honest about something. Many people wake up, stub their toe, check their email, feel vaguely guilty about something they did in 2009, and shuffle through the day carrying a spiritual backpack stuffed with condemnation, self-doubt, and whatever weird thing they said at last year's office Christmas party. The good news — and we mean embarrassingly, scandalously good news — is that Christ's righteousness changes all of that. Not theoretically. Not eventually. Right now.

If this is your first visit to That Church By the Vape Shop , welcome. Pull up a chair. We’re the internet equivalent of a storefront church in a sketchy area. People who feel like they don’t belong in polished religious spaces are exactly the people Jesus seemed to enjoy hanging out with. The short version of what we do here is this: Jesus finished the job. Forgiveness is not partial, probationary, or performance-based. A surprising number of Bible passages make more sense o

When I was a kid, I lived with a quiet, ever-present pressure: don’t disappoint your parents. That pressure wasn’t coming from them. They were wonderful parents. They loved me unconditionally. Somewhere in my little brain, I decided that their love was best protected by performance. I had been told that I was the best kid, so I performed. I got 100—or close to it—on nearly everything. I stayed out of trouble; I followed the rules faithfully. Anxiety is a powerful motivator. I

Welcome to the Haunted House of Grace At That Church By the Vape Shop, we try to keep it real (even in the Southern Gothic magical realism fiction posts; you know what I mean). So, full disclosure: if you're looking for a nice, normal religion, Christianity isn't it. Ever notice how church people talk like extras in a horror movie? We're always dying, being buried, raised again, eating flesh, drinking blood (symbolically), and waiting for somebody with a sword in His mouth to

How are y'all doing out there? Grace, peace, and all the best to you and yours. And now, here are some miscellaneous musings of a...

The world recently lost a man who lived life in capital letters—“HULK” HOGAN—a name that, for many, defined childhood cheers and...

Part One: In Which a Tent Appears, a Plan Forms, and God Rolls His Eyes Lovingly It began, as most minor theological earthquakes do, with...

Back by popular demand, here's Sister Velma’s Folding-Chair Prophecy Talk: “It Already Done Happened” Velma stood at the front of the...

The popular idea that Christians are gradually “getting cleaner” or inching their way toward holiness over time—often called progressive...

When God Doesn’t Fix It (And That’s Still Grace) They say God works all things together for good, but sometimes, you stare at your life and think, “This…? THIS is the good?” Here’s the truth: God can raise the dead, split the sea, feed thousands, and heal blind men with spit and mud. He can knock down walls with an amateur trumpet performance. But sometimes… He just doesn’t. Sometimes, the prayer for healing is met with silence. Sometimes, the thing you begged Him to remove f