As a young teenager, summer camp was one of the highlights of my year. The days were full of excitement, games, funny skits, and team challenges. We cheered for our cabins, enjoyed the beautiful outdoors, ate camp food, and felt like we were part of something special. But as the sun went down each evening and we gathered in the chapel, everything changed. The air was thick with seriousness; the camp preacher took the stage and gone was the laughter, joy, and lightness of the daytime activities.

As his voice rose and fell with practiced emotion, it was meant to stir our hearts and move us to action. Sometimes that meant causing us to doubt our salvation, other times it meant feeling crushed under the weight of guilt for not being good enough or producing enough “fruit.” I remember one time in particular when the preacher gave a message sharing graphic details of the crucifixion of Christ and how it was my fault that He was whipped and bloody put on that cross. Leaving those services, I felt both convicted and confused, wondering if I could ever measure up. Would anything I did ever make me deserving of Christ giving His life for me?

One verse in particular often echoed through those sermons: “By their fruit you shall know them.” (Matthew 7:16) It was quoted so often that it became a kind of spiritual scoreboard, something to measure ourselves and others by. Jesus originally spoke those words as part of the sermon on the mount as a warning about false prophets, explaining that good trees bear good fruit and bad trees bear bad fruit. His point was simple and wise: you can tell the truth of someone’s character by their actions. But somewhere along the way, this teaching was stretched and twisted into something it was never meant to be.

In many religious settings, this verse becomes less about discernment and more about judgment. We are told that we are saved by grace through faith, yet at the same time reminded that our salvation is proven by the “fruit” of our works. The message becomes tangled: grace on paper but performance in practice. It creates a constant sense of spiritual insecurity. Every shortcoming, every lapse in behavior, every moment of struggle becomes a reason to question whether your faith is real. “Am I producing enough fruit?! Will I every be worthy?!”

Throughout the years, I remember hearing sermons where pastors would list all the behaviors that supposedly revealed who was “bearing good fruit” and who wasn’t. Things like how often you attended church, what music you listened to, what you wore, who your friends were, how obediently you submitted to authority. All of these things became the measures of one’s spirituality. I internalized the message that if I ever struggled with doubt, anger, or exhaustion, it meant something was wrong with me spiritually. This verse wasn’t bringing life or freedom; it was turning faith into a performance.

As a young teenager, I took that message to heart. I wanted so badly to please God and do what was expected of me that I examined every thought and action for signs of “good or bad fruit.” But no matter what, it never felt like enough. It seemed as if others seemed confident in their salvation, while I quietly battled fear and anxiety. The words of Jesus that were supposed to bring clarity instead were twisted to cause confusion, leaving me to wonder if I was one of the “bad trees.”

In hindsight, I see how that interpretation distorted the true meaning. The “fruit” Jesus referred to wasn’t about perfection, but about character: love, mercy, humility, and truth. Ironically, the very leaders who used this verse to instill fear often demonstrated the opposite fruits in how they treated others.

Looking back, I see how easily scripture can be used to manipulate emotions, especially in young and impressionable hearts. Those powerful camp sermons were not just passionate, they were calculated and manipulating . They pushed us toward guilt and fear in the name of conviction, but what they really did was make us easier to control. When people feel unworthy, they become dependent on whoever claims to hold the answers.

The intent of Jesus’s teaching in Matthew 7, wasn’t talking about ordinary believers anxiously measuring their worth; He was warning against false prophets. He was warning about those who used religion for power, control, and self-promotion.

The misuse of this verse creates a culture of spiritual insecurity, one where people learn to fake peace rather than pursue it, to appear joyful rather than admit pain, to act holy rather than being honest when they are struggling. It rewards performance over truth and fear over freedom. Ironically, the very leaders who often use this verse to instill fear often demonstrate the opposite fruits in how they treat others.

It took years to unlearn that fear and to see the heart of Jesus’s message for what it truly is. The fruit He spoke of was never about perfection or performance. The true mark of faith is not how flawless we appear to be, but how we love. Love that shows itself in kindness, mercy, humility, and compassion. That is the fruit that lasts.

Now, as I’ve unlearned those patterns, I’ve come to see that spiritual fruit isn’t something we show to prove our worth. It’s what naturally grows when we live in grace, not fear. The truest “fruit” comes from a heart that feels safe enough to be real, not one constantly afraid of being deemed unworthy. When scripture is read through the lens of grace, it brings healing and freedom. But when it is used as a weapon, it traps people in shame.

I like this version of Matthew 7:15-20 from the New Living Translation

You Will Know Them by Their Fruits

¹⁵ “Beware of false prophets who come disguised as harmless sheep but are really vicious wolves. ¹⁶ You can identify them by their fruit, that is, by the way they act. Can you pick grapes from thorn bushes, or figs from thistles? ¹⁷ A good tree produces good fruit, and a bad tree produces bad fruit. ¹⁸ A good tree can’t produce bad fruit, and a bad tree can’t produce good fruit. ¹⁹ So every tree that does not produce good fruit is chopped down and thrown into the fire. ²⁰ Yes, just as you can identify a tree by its fruit, so you can identify people by their actions.

Disclaimer: The personal experiences shared in this post are based on my personal perspective. While I chose to leave the IFB to find a more gracious and loving faith, it is important to acknowledge that individuals may have different experiences and find happiness within the IFB or any other religious institution. The decision to leave the IFB does not imply a loss of faith, as faith is a deeply personal and subjective matter. It is essential to respect and recognize the diversity of experiences and perspectives within religious communities. The content shared is for informational purposes only and should not be construed as professional advice, guidance, or a universal representation of the IFB or any religious organization. It is recommended to seek guidance, conduct research, and consider multiple perspectives when making personal decisions or exploring matters of faith.