He came to me when I least expected. I was in a hotel bed, enrobed in terry cloth, my teeth brushed, my hand aloft holding the remote. This was a year ago, and the soft glow of cable TV was the room’s only light. I was flitting between channels when I happened upon BET. There I saw an old white man preaching to an audience of elderly black people. And as I wondered what on earth this pasty alter kocker was doing on black TV, it came to me: I had seen this man before.
It had been years, and he had changed some: a few more wrinkles, a little hitch in his gait, the hair a bit more aggressively black. But it was him. Peter Popoff was back. And he was as mesmerizing as ever.
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Sitting on a stage, in an upholstered chair, Popoff implored his television audience to call an 800 number so that he could send them a secret “faith tool” that God had recently given him as he was “praying about the four red moons of this year of Jubilee.” If that wasn’t incentive enough, there was more reason to reach for the phone. On the screen, below Popoff, flashed the message “Call now for your free miracle spring water.”
As if to answer the very question that occurred to me—what does one do with miracle spring water?—Popoff explained that good times were ahead, very good times. “I can see God leading people into new homes, new automobiles!… God gives supernatural debt cancellation!… And I’d like to send you the miracle spring water.”
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The show cut to video of Popoff working a room of sick, elderly African-Americans. “Is that your cane?” he asked an old woman. “I believe God has given you a divine chiropractic treatment! Amen! Hallelujah! Amen in Jesus’s name! You can walk now without the cane. Take a few steps and make the Devil mad!”
The woman stood up, with his help, started shaking her hands, and then, as the organ and drum picked up the tempo, started shaking her hands faster. She never took very many steps, but she vibrated with energy. Popoff yanked her cane away and tossed it up onstage. The scene dissolved to a woman sharing a bit of testimony with Popoff and the crowd. “I took your holy water and put it in my son’s shoes,” she said. “I put it in his bed, I put it on his pillow, and my son joined the church and he got saved and he’s still in church—and then I got $3,800 and new furniture.”
Such blessings! The prevailing sentiment in the room was Thanks be to God—but also Thanks be to Peter Popoff. He was hugging people, punching the air with them. Everyone had a story: Addictions had disappeared. Appliances had been delivered. All proof of the miracle water’s efficacy. And getting off crutches, that was big, too—this is why people needed Popoff’s healing touch. “You know where that pain went?” Popoff cried after one healing. “I’ll tell you where that pain went. It went back to the pits of hell!”
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