The Malibu Liberals Never Told You About (Beta)
written by a member of the WCB
Malibu is usually sold to the world as paradise: oceanfront estates, winding canyon roads, Hollywood glamour, surfers, sunsets and enormous wealth.
But beneath that familiar image is another Malibu—one shaped by faith, prayer, religious conviction and a distinctly Christian presence that has existed here for generations.
It is a history that rarely makes the popular version of Malibu.
And once you begin looking for it, it becomes difficult to ignore.
The story reaches back into California’s Spanish and Mexican periods, when the coastline and surrounding territory were incorporated into a landscape profoundly influenced by Catholic missions and Spanish religious culture. The very name associated with one of Malibu’s most enduring spiritual landmarks reaches back to the eighteenth-century Franciscan missionary who became one of the central figures in California’s early mission era.
That history is complicated, as all history is. The mission system involved Indigenous peoples, colonial expansion, religious conversion and profound cultural disruption. A serious examination cannot reduce that past to either romantic mythology or convenient erasure.
But it is equally inaccurate to pretend Christianity was somehow foreign to the development of Southern California.
Malibu became one of the places where that religious heritage continued into the modern era.
In 1942, Franciscan friars purchased 26 acres surrounding an unfinished hilltop mansion connected to the Rindge family. Their original intention was to establish a seminary. Instead, they created something different: a place devoted to spiritual retreats for ordinary people.
For decades, thousands of men traveled to the property for periods of prayer, reflection, confession, spiritual instruction and quiet. Beginning in the 1970s, women were welcomed for retreats as well.
The grounds themselves became an expression of Christian devotion. Gardens, religious statues, shrines, walking paths and Stations of the Cross transformed the hillside into a place where faith was not simply discussed but physically encountered.
Then came the fire.
In 1970, a devastating Malibu fire destroyed the historic mansion and much of the surrounding property. What could have marked the end of the retreat instead became another chapter in its history. The religious community rebuilt, preserving the site’s purpose and continuing its ministry.
That resilience matters.
Because Malibu’s Christian history was never simply about buildings.
It was about people.
Men who arrived exhausted from careers and family pressures. Women seeking solitude and spiritual renewal. Families and groups searching for perspective. Individuals wrestling with grief, failure, responsibility, guilt, hope and questions about the direction of their lives.
For generations, Malibu offered a setting where people could step away from the noise and deliberately make room for God.
There are other traces of this religious history scattered through the community as well. Archival collections preserve sermons, correspondence, photographs, ministry materials and records documenting Christian life in Malibu across decades. Seasonal traditions, religious artwork and community practices have survived fires, development and changing cultural fashions.
That is an important distinction.
The Christian history of Malibu is not merely something that exists in an old photograph or a dusty historical file.
It is part of the physical landscape.
It is in the canyon.
It is in the retreats.
It is in the memorials and religious artwork.
It is in the stories passed down by people who came here seeking spiritual renewal.
And it is in the question of what Malibu was meant to be before it became a global symbol of luxury and celebrity.
Perhaps that is why this history deserves another look.
Modern Malibu can sometimes seem almost completely detached from the religious imagination that shaped earlier generations. The culture surrounding the city often emphasizes entertainment, material success, beauty and personal freedom.
But there was another understanding of paradise here.
Not paradise as a beachfront mansion.
Paradise as creation.
Paradise as silence.
Paradise as a place where a person could stop, kneel, pray and reconsider what actually matters.
That older vision does not belong exclusively to one denomination, political movement or social class. It belongs to the historical record.
And perhaps remembering it can offer something valuable even to people who do not share every belief of those who came before them.
A community does not become weaker by knowing where it came from.
It becomes more honest.
Malibu’s history contains wealth and hardship, ambition and tragedy, environmental beauty and devastating fires, cultural change and enduring traditions.
Christianity is one of those traditions.
It should not be exaggerated.
It should not be hidden.
It should simply be remembered.
A Prayer for Malibu
Heavenly Father,
Watch over Malibu and all who call this beautiful place home.
Protect its families, its children, its elderly, its first responders and all those who work to serve this community.
Bring peace to its neighborhoods and wisdom to those entrusted with its future.
Preserve the beauty of its mountains, canyons and ocean, and give those who live here the humility to recognize that such beauty is a gift rather than something to possess.
Where there is division, bring understanding.
Where there is fear, bring courage.
Where there is loneliness, bring companionship.
Where there is grief, bring comfort.
And where people have forgotten You, gently turn their hearts back toward what is eternal.
May Malibu never become so consumed with wealth, fame or appearance that it forgets the value of faith, family, service, sacrifice and gratitude.
Bless those who came before us.
Bless those who live here today.
And bless the generations who will inherit this extraordinary corner of Your creation.
May Malibu be a place not only of beauty, but of peace.
Not only of success, but of purpose.
Not only of prosperity, but of faith.
Amen.