Television Quality-challenged TV
By RAYMOND A. SCHROTH
To the skeptic, what Christians define as a miracle
can be seen as a form of divine seduction.
In Feodor Dostoyevskys The Brothers Karamazov, the
cynical brother Ivan tells a story -- which has somehow made its way into
philosophical textbooks as the beginning of existentialism -- of the Grand
Inquisitor who, when Christ returns to 16th century Seville, arrests him. The
Inquisitor proclaims that there has been a pact between the church and devil
wherein we all have traded our freedom for security.
Basic to this trade-off is our faith in miracles. Although Christ
himself wanted our faith to be free and refused to save himself by miraculously
descending from the cross, our faith is not that strong. We demand signs and
wonders as the price for our belief and bow down before the miracle of
the quack and the witchcraft of the peasant woman, and surrender our
autonomy, hand ourselves over to the control of the church.
The seductive power of the Inquisitors harangue is its grain
of truth. In moments of crisis or great pain, we ask that the normal laws of
Providence not apply to ourselves. To some degree we call on biblical imagery
-- the lame walk and the blind see -- and hope blindly that these stories apply
to 2001. We ask that tumors shrink, that CAT scans and MRIs and biopsies come
out clean -- hoping that somehow God will intervene and contradict what
technology has decreed.
Meanwhile, HBO has decreed that it will make a name for itself by
producing sensational documentaries. On March 21, its documentary chief, Sheila
Nevins, appeared on both the Charlie Rose program and in The New
York Times to make the case for its documentary series, which has both
dabbled in soft-core pornography by its investigations of topless bars and
whorehouses and won Peabody and Emmy awards for its exposés on war
crimes and youth violence.
Now, in the Easter season, as a liturgical bow to Holy Week in
which Christians celebrate the miracle that many see as the foundation of their
belief, HBO has taken on miracles.
It is not hard to imagine the board meeting at HBO in which
someone asks, Theres this Easter coming up, and whatta we got to
plug in thats religious for Easter?
And someone speaks up: We got this documentary about the two
phony faith healers. Thats religious.
OK. We run it on Easter Sunday.
Miracle is an exposé of two world-class
miracle healers. Or should I say heels?
Benny Hinn, a Canadian Palestinian, and Reinhard Bonnke, a German
who crusades primarily in Africa, according to this show, exploit millions of
helpless dupes by filling stadiums in America and Nigeria with the most
desperate dregs of society. They empty their pockets, are whipped into a frenzy
where they believe the spirit has cured them, and are paraded before the
screaming audience and TV cameras as miraculously cured. The camera achieves
its impact by focusing on what is grotesque or, in the larger sense of the
word, obscene.
Benny Hinns Portland, Ore., stadium crowd is mostly white
and middle class. But they are desperate, many grossly overweight, in
wheelchairs, spastic, blind, drooling, staring blankly into the lights, their
heads lolling off to the side. Some, like the boy the film focuses on, have
tumors; others have chronic illnesses like diabetes and arthritis, which are
more susceptible to cures.
Hinns method is to parade those seeking cures across the
stage, as he croons gospel jargon into a hand-held mike, and then to strike
them down, zapping them back into the arms of attendants who keep them from
hitting the floor.
I have heard this described as the charismatic practice of
slaying in the spirit. HBO doesnt seem to know this and
offers no explanation. All we see -- and the Charlie Rose show used
these clips -- is a preacher knocking enthusiastic men and women down like
tenpins.
Meanwhile, over in Benin City, Nigeria, Reinhard Bonnke, we are
told, has been clever enough to tune into African beliefs in witchcraft and
evil spells. He whips his crowd of a half million poor Nigerians into a frenzy.
The HBO crew films his operatives backstage interviewing desperate men who want
to dance up on the stage and proclaim themselves cured, selecting only the most
convincing contestants.
Back in America, HBO tries to follow up on the 78
miracles whom Hinn presented on the stage. They can track down only
five. All were fake. Sadly, the young Hindu boy with the brain tumors, whose
parents became Christians and promised $100 a month to Hinn in the hope of a
cure, soon died.
Hinn and Bonnke give HBO access to their rallies and submit to
interviews, foolishly not sensing that there is no way an HBO documentary team
specializing in sensational stories will do anything other than humiliate them.
Binn tells the camera with a straight face that he uses donations raked in at
the rallies to buy himself a private plane because this luxury will enable him
to last longer and do more good.
Finally, to give the documentary depth, HBO brings in neurologists
to explain mob psychology, the frenzy a charismatic speaker like Hitler (or an
evangelical preacher) can create, and the placebo effect in which the
mobs enthusiasm can convince a susceptible sick person that he or she has
been healed.
My problem is not that these so-called religious healers have been
mugged. They deserve a public thrashing. My problem is that they are an easy
target. Sinclair Lewis Elmer Gantry and editor and critic H.L.
Mencken told us all this 70 years ago.
If the HBO documentary team wants to take on a tough assignment,
try one that does not already play to the sensibilities and prejudices of those
who can afford pay TV.
Meanwhile, a journalist friend has offered me a better
contemporary understanding of miracles in which we dont ask the Lord to
reverse the law of nature that he has decreed. A miracle is doing the right
thing that, it seems, could not be accomplished simply through human power: An
otherwise hopeless alcoholic recovers through Gods love; parents refuse
to abandon their hopelessly deformed child.
Now flash back to that board meeting at HBO. A lonely voice asks,
Wont sincere Christians be offended by our denigrating miracles in
Easter week? After all, a lot of them think the resurrection is a
miracle.
Not to worry, the producer replies. Were
tacking on three minutes on Lourdes. We say thats where we find real
miracles. Theyve only cured 66 people in over 100 years, but the real
miracle is in how you feel after you go there.
Great, says the Head Guy. Go with it. And have a
nice Easter.
Jesuit Fr. Raymond A. Schroth is Jesuit community professor of
the humanities at St. Peters College in Jersey City, N.J. His e-mail
is raymondschroth@aol.com
National Catholic Reporter, April 20,
2001
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