Friday, September 14, 2012

Can I get an Amen?

I was having another sleepless night a few nights ago, and HGTV was not showing my usual sleepy-time fare. E! didn't even have anything good on worth mocking. So in my late-night stupor, I flipped through channel after channel of late night talk shows, old reruns, and paid advertisements until...I saw it. The televangelist channel! Actually, I don't think it's actually a whole channel devoted to televangelists, but at that moment in time, someone was on my screen, excitedly stomping and screaming about salvation.

I grew up in a Christian household. We went to church most every Sunday, and I learned all the old bible stories about Noah and Jonah and Daniel and David. I knew about God, and the birth of Christ, and His crucifixion and resurrection. But I went to a community church in middle of nowhere Stockton: non-denominational, filled with a bunch of old ladies, an out-of-tune choir, and a service that would put you to sleep on Sunday morning. This a complete contrast to the fire and brimstone preaching style of televangelists.

In class, the description of Tent Revivals reminded me a lot of this late-night televangelist I saw. At these tent revivals, the preacher would pour all his energy and emotion into his message, and make bold declarations about the state of your soul if you did not listen to him and heed his advice, which had come directly from a divine being. Both the preacher, and those in the audience would be overwhelmed with emotion, and many times claim to see divine visions. There were times even when audience members present at these revivals would be overcome with the presence of the Lord, and faint. In many ways, these tent revivals were less like church services and more like over-the-top performances. Isn't that what many of these televangelists are doing, putting on a performance to make a buck? I have no doubt that many of these television preachers are believers in what they preach, but by putting themselves on television and in front of an audience, it seems to take away some of the authenticity of the message and turn it more into a public spectacle.

And then, of course, are the "magic cure-alls" that according to the reading, peddlers would sell at these Tent Revivals (as well as at medicine shows) that they claim would solve all your problems. They relied on influence over the spectators at these shows, in order to convince them that their products would work and provide a "magical transformation"...much in the same way that the revival preachers relied on their influence over the crowd to gain followers of their teachings. In this way, both peddlers are revivalist preachers were the gatekeepers between reality and the supernatural world, and they held the key that would unlock that passageway for the spectators.

Today, televangelists claim to have the same answers, preaching through the television set and then attempting usually to sell something--a book or a video, or even audio recordings--which offers spiritual advice, and which they claim hold the answer to salvation. (Somehow, I think televangelists have forgotten that the answer to salvation is in the Bible, but I digress...) They use their influence over their audience in order to sell their own "magical cure-all" product and make money off of desperate people searching for answers.

In this article, an episode of Richard Roberts' "The Place for Miracles" is being described where Roberts is asking his viewers to "plant a $1,000 seed" ...by buying a prayer cloth he prayed over that is meant to fix all your problems. It also links to a funny YouTube video that cuts this episode's clips with reaction shots from Star Trek. (Side note: Roberts was convicted of DWI in January 2012).

Here are some other crazy televangelist clips:


And sometimes...they use free offers to rope you in.



It is evident that the Tent Revival phenomenon has not died out, but has instead just moved to a different medium--television. These broadcasts, as well as shows like The 700 Club are, in my opinion, offensive to the religion. I feel like these so-called preachers aren't teaching anything, or inspiring people to become Christians--they are simply scamming people who have fallen for their schemes in hopes that they will find some magical fix for whatever problems they may be having.

I don't really know how to end this blog, so I'll leave you with this fantastic video of a preacher with his foot wayyy in his mouth:


...I love the internet.

5 comments:

  1. This was a very interesting post to read! I like the touch of videos. When you said, "Today, televangelists claim to have all the answers..." that really made me think. I believe that everybody is searching for answers. You know? We live in a very confusing world and we're all a little lost. We all find our peace and understanding in different ways. For some, it may be through religion, for others it may be in a different light. Whether it be if an advertisement is marketing something or through a televangelist, if you find a little balance in the world...that's a good thing. I don't think it's always 100% scamming, even though there are definitely times when it is. It's a touchy thing and people can see it in many different ways. I just think there is more to it than just "scamming." That seems like such a harsh word. I think all people really want is to find a commonality or approval of others. Though this may be a materialistic idea, there is something deeper past that. I think it's a very important part of American culture.

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  2. I agree. I don't think that every television preacher is a con-rtist. There are some decent religious broadcasts. (Also, I don't really think The 700 Club is a scam so much as it is just annoying). But there are a lot of shady people out there who are preying on the desperation of others, and I feel like those shady people are the ones who are making a mockery out of my religion.
    Actually, I have a lot more to say on the subject so it's a good thing I have to leave for work now, or this comment would be a mile long. :)
    Thanks for the comment! :)

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  3. HALLELUJAH! You know the first thing I thought about when we talked about the tent revivals was The 700 Club. It always came on right before Whose Line is it Anyway on ABC family, and i'd never fail to miss the last few minutes of it.
    I enjoyed how you related it back to your own experience. I grew up catholic, but my father wasn't and he attended a christian church that he brought me to maybe three or four times. I always thought they were weird because the only part of the service that the children attended was the christian rock concert part apparently. When it came time to talk about "fire and brimstone" we were whisked away to the children's church/Sunday school type of deal. When I was standing next to my father though him and all of his buddies were singing and swaying with their hands in the air. It was different, but I always figured it was a more cathartic way to release their Jesus feelings and what not.

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    1. haha me too! Whose Line is the best :D And boy, does that Pat Robertson know how to use up every last second of his allotted hour. (and how to say some crazy controversial things)

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  4. Nice! This was a really fun read. Really well-written, and I liked your visuals too. It might be worth doing this week's blog on the rise of televangelism in the 1980s, since that's when they really began, and it would be cool to see you piece together why that particular era.

    I'd have liked some more explicit use of the readings. You're definitely in the ballpark of what we've been talking about, but the lines of connection aren't as clearly established as they could be.

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