Stay up to date with notifications from The Independent

Notifications can be managed in browser preferences.

Praying all the way to the bank

The cost of religion: Controversial evangelist makes followers pay to be left in fits of giggles

Andrew Brown Religious Affairs Correspondent
Saturday 09 December 1995 00:02 GMT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

ANDREW BROWN

Religious Affairs Correspondent

"Amen, praise God, hallelujah, make your cheques payable to Revival Ministries International!" cries the South African evangelist Rodney Howard-Browne, who has been atOlympia, in London, this week.

He preaches the "health and wealth" doctrines - you give to him and God will give to you - discredited among mainstream evangelicals. But he is credited with being the man who brought the "Toronto Blessing" to Toronto. A wave of excitement has passed from Toronto to more than 2,000 British churches, and is characterised by uncontrollable giggling on the part of the blessed, who consider it a sign of the Holy Spirit's presence.

The blessing is controversial among evangelicals, some of whom believe that God would never make his followers do anything so undignified, but Howard-Browne himself is more controversial still.

Visitors to his show are asked to register, "for security purposes", to weed out demonstrators and the press. Inside, I was handed a copy of the mail-order catalogue for the Kensington Temple, one of the largest pentecostal churches in Britain, offering fundamentalist computer games - "Help Captain Bible as he gets sent to destroy the Dome of Darkness. Armed with his computer bible, Captain Bible must find his way through seven levels of action adventure and apply Scripture to destroy the forces of deception."

Howard-Browne himself, a burly, vulpine man, moved seamlessly from prayer straight into the appeal for money. Wastepaper baskets were passed around the crowd as he told stories of his poverty- stricken time in South Africa, when he could only afford a broken-down Mercedes.

He asked those who could not write cheques to give cash. Those with no cash could fill out "pledge forms", promising to send him sums of money later. "My God will liberally supply your every need. If it worked for me, it can work for you."

I could bear no more. I filled out a pledge card in the name of Jenny Rous-Twytte and left.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in