Christopher Frey writes about the commercialization of global Christianity in Africa Files:
“Are you writing your prayer request?” I looked up from my scribbling to take in the pretty, grinning young woman in camouflage trucker hat, reflective sunglasses, rolled-up jeans, and canvas trainers. Most everyone around her was either writing on scraps of paper, or, having already done so, was now standing in place, arms pitched heavenward, hips swaying, shuddering to a junior pastor who stamped the concrete and shouted, “Die! Die! Die, demons!” Some of the congregants jitterbugged vigorously, as though trying to shake off a shroud of dust. A few stood solemn, waiting for a breeze to lift them. “No, I’m just taking some notes,” I told the woman. “Well, please enjoy the service. May I have a piece of paper?”...[continue reading]
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