The self-styled prophets are stars in one of the fastest-growing corners of American Christianity. What happens when they get it wrong? (2023)

Jeremiah Johnson, a 33-year-old self-proclaimed prophet, was one of the few evangelical Christians who took Donald Trump's political future seriously in 2015.

This record created a loyal audience of hundreds of thousands of people who follow him on social media and latch on to his predictions on topics such as the coronavirus pandemic, the makeup of the Supreme Court and the possibility of a spiritual renaissance in America. And they found solace before last fall's presidential election when Johnson shared a prophetic dream about Trump stumbling while running the Boston Marathon until two frail elderly women emerged from the crowd to help him across the finish line.

So when Joe Biden was certified as the winner of the election, Johnson had to admit that he had failed his supporters.

"I was wrong, I am deeply sorry and I apologize," he wrote in a detailed letter posted online. "I would like to repent for wrongly prophesying that Donald Trump would win a second term as President of the United States."

The desire to divine the future is venerable and fuels belief in figures ranging from ancient Greek oracles to modern astrologers. Christianity in particular is a religion whose basic text is full of prophecies that are proven true at the end of the book. Whether the gift of prophecy continues to this day has long been the subject of intense theological debate. But in recent years, self-styled prophets have spread across the country and accelerated in growth during the Trump era. They are stars of what is now one of the fastest-growing corners of Christianity: a loose but fervent movement led by hundreds of people who believe they can channel supernatural powers and have special spiritual insight into world events.

Many are independent evangelists who do not lead churches or other institutions. They operate primarily online and through appearances at conferences or as guest speakers at churches, making money through book sales, donations and speaking fees. And they are part of the growing appeal of conspiracies in Christian settings, reflected by QAnon's popularity among many evangelicals and resistance to mainstream information sources.

The prophetic imagination extends far beyond national politics. Follow the Super Bowl and the weather; looks at events in pop culture, such as Kanye West's recent turn toward evangelicalism, and global events, including a particular fascination with Israel. Many prophets warn their followers not to trust what they read in the news, but instead offer a kind of alternative news cycle that breaks and interprets real-world events through a supernatural lens.

"In my life, 49 years as a follower of Jesus, I have never seen this level of interest in prophecy," said Michael Brown, an evangelical radio host and commentator who believes in prophecy but has called for greater accountability when prophecies are revealed. show. FAKE. "And that's a shame, because it's an embarrassment to the movement."

The past year was plagued by unfulfilled prophecies. When the coronavirus swept across the United States this spring, several prophets publicly assured that it would subside by Easter; Cindy Jacobs, one of America's most influential prophets, led a global day of prayer to "contain" the virus in March. And by the fall, so many prominent prophets had wrongly predicted Trump's re-election that the apologies and recriminations now constitute a crisis in the movement.

Reaction to Johnson's apology was immediate. On Facebook, he reported receiving "several death threats and thousands and thousands of emails from Christians saying the most vile and vulgar things I've ever heard about my family and my ministry." He also said he had lost money from donors who accused him of being "a coward, a traitor and a traitor to the Holy Spirit."

But the popularity of self-proclaimed prophets shows no signs of waning.

As denominational Christianity declines almost across the board, magnetic independent leaders have filled the void.

"There's this idea that you can't trust anyone except these trusted people," said Brad Christerson, a sociologist at Evangelical Biola University. “It is a symptom of our times. People do not trust institutions and believe that all major institutions are corrupt: universities, science, government, media. They are looking for real sources of truth.”

The result is that many congregations are inundated with misinformation. Nearly half of Protestant pastors frequently hear members of their congregations repeat conspiracy theories about current events, according to a survey released last month by Lifeway Research, which is affiliated with the Southern Baptist Convention.

Prophecy is a facet of the fast-growing charismatic Christian movement, which has an estimated 500 million followers worldwide and is characterized in part by the belief that the "gifts of the spirit," which also include speaking in tongues and supernatural healing, continue. to this day, rather than being an artifact of biblical times.

Trump boosted the public profile of this already rising stream of Christian culture. His evangelical advisory board included an unprecedented number of charismatic leaders, including his top faith adviser, Paula White, a charismatic pastor and broadcaster. Weeks before the 2020 election, he attended services for the third time at a "healing and prophetic" megachurch in Las Vegas, where speakers shared predictions and visions about his second term, to applause from Trump and the congregation. (The Charismatic movement in general is notably multiracial, although the most successful politically oriented prophets in the Trump era were white and drew audiences similar to Trump's base.)

Christian prophets satisfy a hunger for calm and clarity that can be seen in other corners of American culture. Astrology is exploding in popularity. More than 40% of Americans believe in psychics, according to Pew.

Prophecy, similarly, is not only a predictive tool but also an analytical lens for making sense of past and current events. The most successful prophets are able to connect seemingly disparate pieces of data into a grand narrative that adds new layers of interpretation as events unfold and invites others to contribute.

In Crystal River, Florida, Scott Wallis had read Johnson's prophecies on Facebook and was encouraged by them. He trusted Johnson in part, he said, because of two recent prophecies that turned out to be true, including one about the Los Angeles Dodgers winning the World Series. (Johnson reported the prophecy two days before the team won the championship.)

To Wallis, pastor and prophet, it made perfect sense that God would be involved in the outcome of the American election, just as He is in every human life.

"Some people, like deists, believe that God created the earth but abandoned the people and left them alone," Wallis said. "I do not believe that".

When a friend prophesied to him in 2014 that he would soon get married, he did not even have a girlfriend, but by the end of the year he was married.

The Internet has made it much easier for prophets to spread their visions, with many more outlets at their disposal: social media, podcasts, books, and an ecosystem of traditional media that remains largely under the radar, even for many other evangelicals. An appearance on "It's Supernatural!", a talk show hosted by octogenarian televangelist Sid Roth, can make a career for prophets. Ditto for endorsing the venerable Elijah List newsletter, which has 240,000 subscribers. Media outlets include Charisma magazine and the Christian Broadcasting Network, both of which cover prophetic predictions as news.

Jennifer Eivaz, who calls herself "the praying prophet," realized in college that she could hear God's voice in a way that she could "prove." When she and her husband began leading a church in central California, she had dreams and received specific information about the people who attended. He was careful not to scare people away, he said, often choosing to consult with them rather than make specific predictions or insights about their lives.

She also began recording training videos on prayer and prophecy, which caught the attention of Steve Shultz, who had founded The Elijah List and invited her to contribute. As her profile rose, she became an internationally sought-after speaker at events with names like the Institute for Inner Healing and Liberation and the Prophetic Wisdom and Prayer conference, where believers pay to gather for music, prophecy and inspiration.

Eivaz occasionally offers public prophecies about national or international events. In May 2015, he announced that California's year-long drought had ended and that "the rains were back." The message united the experience of the biblical prophet Elijah on Mount Carmel; Eivaz's recent trip to Carmel-by-the-Sea, California; a vision of a mother bear fighting for her cubs; the California state flag; and Governor Gavin Newsom. (The drought did not formally end until 2017, although the state experienced unusually high rainfall during the summer of 2015.)

But such visions only come to him once or twice a year, he said. He has watched with alarm as predictive prophecies such as these have come to dominate the prophetic movement.

"It's like buying data," he said, adding that social media rewards "hype and sensationalism" over wisdom and puts particular pressure on independent prophets to produce new predictions every few days.

Mike Killion, who was a charter bus driver in North Carolina until the pandemic dried up his business, is aware of what he calls "synchronicities" and what others might call coincidences. He believes that God is closely involved in world events and closely attuned to the prayers of his people.

If Killion's phone is on the table and he mentions he's going on a cruise, for example, the phone "hears" him and starts showing cruise ads, he said.

"God works the same way," he explained. "He listens to everything you say."

Prophets aren't always right in every prediction, Killion said, and they certainly aren't always right right away.

“There's this idea that prophets have to be right all the time, and they have to be right next week,” Killion said, “when there are prophets in the Bible who had prophecies that were not fulfilled in their lifetime. "

Killion mocked Johnson for backing up his prediction of a Trump victory in 2020.

"Jeremiah Johnson should have kept his mouth shut," he said a few days before Biden's inauguration. "It can still happen."

Johnson, for his part, appears to remain chastened. This week, he began a YouTube series titled "I Was Wrong," in which he plans to discuss what the prophetic movement is and where he believes it has gone awry.

In the first episode, he reviewed some of his past prophecies about politics and national events, breaking down how he got it wrong in 2020.

"Not everything that God speaks to us in private should have been publicly known," he said grimly. "I was stuck at the moment."

He spoke of his hope for "reform" and his worries about God's judgment to come. And in future episodes of the series, he promised he'll share what God shows him about what's coming next.

ca. 2021 The New York Times Company