I remember being asked to go with a friend, a fervent Catholic, to Bramhall Lane in Sheffield to a Billy Graham 'show' in ghe 80s and show it was. I doubt I'd heard of him. Truly, I was a-mazed, the fervour was palpable, the noisen deafening and, when he stepped onto the stage, the screams and fainting were of epic proportions.
My friend, some 15 years older than I, was gaga.
One unbelievable scenario was when he made an impassioned 'fire and brimstone' speech which deafened me.
He was very loud
He was very critical
He was going to show the thousands during there, that there was a better way to live life...which included buckets brought round by his crew during each interval for donations, in return for a mealy-mouthed blessing.
When he invited people down for hands-on blessings and those actions where he placed his hands on their head and pushed them backwards into waiting arms, there was a mighty scrum, like sheep released into a field in springtime. Streams of screaming people of all ages, mwound up to fever pitch by the warm-up guys and carried forward on a tide of religious forgiveness and the prospect of, for some, healing hands.
Reader, I had to lie when asked if I had enjoyed the experience.
My ears rang for days after when BG was probably still counting his money.
It was years later that I saw the same kind of scenario on a tv programme by Louis Theroux. I found it quite disturbing and the preacher, a charlaton.
