Whiskey Priests, Todd Bentley, the Lakeland Revival and Why “the Wicked” Prosper | Dreaming Beneath the Spires

The Whiskey Priest is the hero of Graham Greene’s powerful novel, “The Power and the Glory.” The Mexican government in the state of Tabasco outlaws Catholicism. But as this weak, sick, despairing, alcoholic priest with an illegitimate daughter, goes from village to village at the risk of his life, taking communion to those who believe it is indeed the body and blood of Jesus and yearn for it, something happens.   The power and the glory of God insistently breaks out, and the desperate villagers see it.

We saw a modern Whiskey Priest recently in Todd Bentley who worked creative miracles at his crusades attended by several thousands.

The vicars in the church I was then attending, St. Aldate’s, Oxford, Charlie Cleverly, Simon Ponsonby and Gordon Hickson flew to Florida to listen and learn.

They came back all excited. Monkey see, monkey do. The leaders lined up on either side of the aisle, and the congregation ran through it, and each of them blessed and prayed for us. It’s called “a fire tunnel,” and the procedure is called prophetic impartation, or activation.

Well, I went through it too, and it was a powerful experience, as if electricity coursed through me. I was shaking. Was it mere psychosomatic excitation on my part? At the time, I thought not. I have a writer’s temperament, and part of me stands apart and wryly observes things, even in times of great stress, sorrow, anger, or joy. So I noticed, amused and a bit annoyed, that all the wannebe leaders, and ecclesiastical  social climbers joined the leaders to bless, rather than be blessed. Keenly observing, with some amusement and scepticism, the drama and histrionics in progress, I went through the tunnels. Not the right frame of mine for psychosomatic excitation, huh?

Anyway, there was no enduring change in myself as a result of that fire tunnel, which so reminded me of a child’s party game. (And if there was any positive change in the church, it was invisible to the naked eye J.) If however, we had been sincerely blessed and prayed for by several dozen people, we would have been blessed. Perhaps all the drama of the fire tunnels, and its histrionic thaumaturgic potential interfered with simple prayer. (Shut up, Anita; stop being cynical!)

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And meanwhile in Florida (the perfect locale for a revival: the beaches, the sunsets, the Mouse; I remember youngsters going to Pensacola from my church in Williamsburg for the Pensacola Revival, and coming back, short-term on fire, long-term, unchanged), meanwhile in Florida, the Lakeland revival continued.

I heard John Mumford (father of Marcus Mumford and Sons!) say at a St. Aldate’s retreat that a friend of his in New York was healed just watching it on GodTV!

He brought in so much money that the church who hosted him had him work 7 days a week. At the start of the revival, he sensibly spent his mornings in prayer and Bible study. Later on, he went drinking with the interns, drunk too much, had an affair with his nanny, eventually divorced his wife, married the nanny.

But all through this, through all this, the miracles continued.

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Why should God work like that through a whiskey priest like Todd Bentley?

Well, why shouldn’t he?

What unlocks the power of God in our lives? Firstly, his sovereign decision: I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy,Romans 9:15. And secondly, our humility and faith.

 And perhaps, in the sight of God, the open sin of Todd Bentley was no worse that the secret sin of other people. We rank sin. Sexual sin is the worst, followed by drugs, and alcohol. Evangelists love catches with glamorous testimonies—drugs, drinking, promiscuity, overdoses, suicide attempts. I once was wild, but now am tame; was cool, but now I’m not. 

But, for all we know, it’s the dreadful churchly sins–the subtle judging and exclusion; the ranking of people by wealth or social status or church status; the gossip, the looking through, the mean little judgements—that makes God cringe more than the golden glories of a passion-driven tumble beneath the sheets, or glorious wine. (Perhaps. David, the repentant adulterer, was known as a man after God’s own heart. Haven’t read many of the Chief Priests and Pharisees Psalms recently.)

And so perhaps a whiskey priest is no worse than the ambitious clergyman who gauges his congregation for what they can do for him, in terms of money or willing labour, or adding lustre to his reputation, and looks through those who have nothing he can use, as through the invisible.

And perhaps the visible sin in Lakeland, Florida, was less displeasing to God than secret, vicious and hypocritical sin in wannabe Lakeland churches. And that’s why God chose to show up in Lakeland.

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Yes, I am convinced that this is why “the wicked” prosper: Because in the eyes of God, they are no more or less wicked, than those who wring their hands at their wickedness. 

In the eyes of God, it’s the heart matters, whether we lust in our heart or limbs, whether we murder with words or weapons (Matthew 5:28-29).

The sin of the wicked is obvious. And obvious sin is more acceptable to God than the petty hidden little sin and hypocrisies of the chosen frozen, the merciless, pitiless, judgemental little “men and women of God.”

Who went home justified before God? Not the pompous small group leader, who fasts and prays and tithes, but the sinner who knew he was a sinner, and beat his breast and prayed, “Lord be merciful to me a sinner.”

And so perhaps Christ, who stands watching in the aisles of the temple, ensures he prospers. We are dealing with God, you know, and he has the most annoyingly egalitarian habits. He makes the sun shine and the rain fall on the good and evil alike, and is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.

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Is blowing it the worst thing for a Christian? Nope, not at all.

In fact, it may be just the opposite.

Publicly blowing it will slow down and impede your public ministry, but then you are forced to go underground, to be silent and still with God. And even while all excoriate you for how you blew it, you get strong, and you burrow into the secret places of God, and grow in grace and strength and wisdom. And God may choose to, again, show you visible, undisputable favour. What you touch may turn to gold—whether business ventures, or creative ventures, or ministry. Your prayers might be answered by miracles. The peace and joy which glimmers around you like gold dust may become evident.

We haven’t heard the last of Todd Bentley, I suspect. Stay tuned.