The Three (15 page)

I’m standing in the gargantuan lobby of the Houston Conference Centre, where the annual End Times Bible Prophecy Convention is taking place, clutching a Bible with a fly-fisherman on the cover, and waiting for a man with the unlikely name of Flexible Sandy to finish publicising his latest novel. Despite an entrance fee of five thousand dollars, the conference attracts thousands of attendees from all over Texas and beyond, and the parking lot is filled with Winnebagos and SUVs sporting number plates from as far afield as Tennessee and Kentucky. I also seem to be the youngest person here by a good couple of decades–a sea of grey hair undulates around me. It’s safe to say I’m more than a bit out of my comfort zone.

Felix ‘Flexible’ Sandy has a colourful background. Before his conversion to evangelical Christianity in the early seventies, he’d enjoyed a successful career as a contortionist, trapeze artist, and circus impresario–a fire and brimstone Southern version of P.T. Barnum. After Flexible’s biography,
A High-Wire to Jesus
, was a bestseller in the seventies, the legend is that rising Bible Prophecy star Dr Theodore Lund approached him to write the first in a series of fictional End Times themed books. Written in fast-paced Dan Brown-style prose, the series details what will happen after the Rapture occurs and the world’s saved literally disappear in the blink of an eye, leaving the earth-bound non-believers to contend with the Antichrist–a character who has an uncanny resemblance to former UK prime minister Tony Blair. Nine bestselling books later (it is estimated that over 70 million copies have been sold), Flexible Sandy is still going strong. He also recently launched his own website: ‘rapturesacoming.com’, a site that tracks global and national disasters in order to let members know (for a small fee of course) how
close, on any given day, we might be to Armageddon. With his wiry frame and perma-tanned skin, eighty-year-old Flexible exudes the vigour of someone half his age. As he deals with the snaking line of devoted fans that stretches in front of him, his smile doesn’t slip one iota. I’m hoping to persuade Flexible to take part in a documentary series I’m producing about the rise of the American End Times Movement. For the last few months I’ve been emailing his publicist–a brittle, efficient woman who has been eyeing me distrustfully since I arrived–to set up a meeting. Last week she hinted that I might get a chance if I turned up in Houston at the conference where he would be launching his latest book.

For those not in the know, End Times prophecy is basically the conviction that any day now, those who have taken Jesus as their personal saviour (aka born again) will be spirited up to heaven (aka raptured) while the rest us will endure seven years of horrendous suffering under the yoke of the Antichrist. These beliefs, based on the literal interpretation of several biblical prophets (including John in Revelation, Ezekiel and Daniel), are far more widespread than many people realise. In the US alone, it’s estimated that over 65 million people believe that the events laid out in Revelation could actually happen in their lifetime.

Many high-level prophecy preachers can be cagey about talking to the non-evangelical press, and I rather naively hoped my English accent would help break the ice with Flexible. Five thousand dollars is a lot of money to shell out if all I’m going to get for it is a themed Bible. (Incidentally, on sale in the lobby are also Bibles for children, ‘Christian wives’, hunters and gun enthusiasts–but the fly-fisherman version caught my eye. I’m not sure why. I’ve never even been fishing.) Plus, I’m rather optimistically hoping that if Flexible agrees to talk to me, I might be able to persuade him to introduce me to the big cheese himself–Dr Theodore Lund. (I’m not holding out much hope; I’ve been told by fellow journalists that I’d have a better chance of being invited to go lap-dancing with Kim Jong-Il.) A mega-star of the evangelical movement, Dr Lund boasts his own TV station, a franchise of True Faith mega-churches that bring in hundreds of millions of
dollars a year in ‘donations’, and the ear of former Republican President ‘Billy-Bob’ Blake. He also commands a global following on a par with Hollywood A-listers: his three Sunday services are internationally syndicated, and it’s estimated that over 100 million people worldwide tune in every week to watch his prophecy-themed chat show. Although not as hard-line as the Dominionists, the fundamentalist sect who are actively campaigning for a US governed by strict Biblical rule (which would entail the death penalty for abortionists, gays and naughty children), Dr Lund is a harsh opponent of gay marriage, is vehemently pro-life, disputes global warming, and is not adverse to using his clout to influence political decisions, especially where Middle Eastern policy is concerned.

The queue of fans waiting to get their books signed by Flexible shuffles forwards. ‘These books changed my life,’ the woman in front of me tells me unsolicited. She has a shopping trolley piled high with various editions of the
Gone
books. ‘They brought me to Jesus.’ We chat about her favourite characters (she favours Peter Kean, a helicopter pilot whose languishing faith is restored–too late–when he witnesses his born-again wife, children and co-pilot being raptured before his eyes). I decide that it would be churlish to face Flexible without a copy of his novel, so I grab a couple from a towering dump-bin. Next to the piles of
Gone
books, a glossy cookbook display catches my eye. The cover sports a photograph of a heavily made-up woman with the tight eyes of the newly face-lifted. I recognise her as Dr Lund’s wife Sherry, the co-presenter of his weekly after-sermon chat show. Her cookbooks regularly top the New York Times Bestseller lists and the sex manual she co-wrote with Dr Lund,
Intimacy the Christian Way
, was a runaway success in the eighties.

While Flexible gamely interacts with his geriatric fan base, I check out the displays advertising the talks, discussions and prayer groups that are scheduled back to back throughout the weekend, most sporting glossy life-size cut-outs of the celebrity preachers who are the main draw-card to the event. As well as several ‘Are You Ready For the Rapture?’ talks, there are symposiums on
Creationism and a hastily tacked on addition to the line-up–a ‘get-together’ with Pastor Len Vorhees, the new kid on the End Times block. Vorhees recently caused a minor Twitter storm with his extraordinary pronouncement that the three children who survived Black Thursday’s disasters are actually three of the four horsemen out of Revelation.

Finally, the line dries up and it’s my turn. The snippy publicist whispers something in Flexible’s ear and he fixes the beam of his smile on me. His small eyes glint like black shiny buttons.

‘England, huh?’ he says. ‘I was in London last year. That’s a heathen country that needs saving, am I right, son?’

I assure him that he most certainly is.

‘What sort of work you into, son? Patty here says you want to do an interview, something like that?’

I tell him the truth. That I make documentaries for television, that I’d love to chat to him and Dr Lund about their careers.

Flexible’s button eyes bore into mine with more intensity. ‘You with the BBC?’

I say that I have worked for the BBC, yes. It’s not really a lie. I started my career as a runner for BBC Manchester, although I was fired after two months for smoking dope in the greenroom. I decide not to mention this.

Flexible seems to relax. ‘Hold on, son, I’ll see what I can do.’ This is much easier than I was expecting. He waves his publicist over again, who manages to smile at Flexible and scowl at me simultaneously, and they share a terse whispered exchange.

‘Son, Teddy’s real busy right now. Tell you what, why don’t you come up to the penthouse in a couple of hours? I’ll see what I can do about getting you two acquainted. He’s a big fan of the
Cavendish Hall
show you fellas have over there.’

I’m not sure what
Cavendish Hall
, a saccharine period drama that’s making waves around the world, has to do with me, but it turns out that Flexible Sandy is still under the impression that I work for the BBC. I scuttle away before his publicist convinces him to change his mind.

Rather than head back to my bijou hotel room (fortunately included in the price tag), I decide to see if I can catch one of the talks. I’m thirty minutes late for Pastor Len Vorhees’s ‘get-together’, but I mention to the usher that I’m a personal friend of Flexible Sandy’s and he lets me slip inside.

It’s standing room only in the Starlight Auditorium, and all that’s visible of Pastor Len Vorhees is the top of his coiffed hair as he strides back and forth in front of the audience. His voice wavers every now and then, but it’s clear from the chorus of ‘Amen’s that he’s getting his message across. I’m vaguely aware that Pastor Len’s bizarre theory has provoked fierce debate in the world of End Times believers, especially from the Preterist movement, which, unlike most of the other factions, believes that the events laid out in Revelation have already occurred. And I’m learning that Revelation is most certainly the basis of Pastor Len’s wild assertions. According to the prophecy of John, the four horsemen will bring with them war, pestilence, famine and death, and Pastor Len starts to list various recent ‘signs’ that he says prove his theory. Among them are the gruesome account of the lizardy death of a paparazzo who’d allegedly broken into Bobby Small’s hospital room (animal attacks are also included in Revelation’s list of woes) and the details of the recent norovirus scourge that turned a fleet of cruise liners into vomit-filled hell ships. He manages to conclude with a frankly terrifying proclamation that war will soon ravage the African nations and bird flu will decimate the Asian population.

Longing for a stiff drink, I slip out on the chorus of ‘Amen’s to wait for my audience with Flexible Sandy and Dr Teddy Lund.

I’m gobsmacked when I’m let into the suite by Dr Lund himself, who greets me with a dazzling grin that shows off his state-of-theart dental work. ‘Good to meet you, son,’ he says, gripping my hand between two of his. His skin has a slightly artificial glow, as if he’s an irradiated fruit. ‘Can I get you a beverage? You Brits like your tea, don’t you?’ I burble something along the lines of ‘Indeed we do,’ and allow him to lead me over to where Flexible and a
slick-suited man in his early fifties are sitting in extravagantly upholstered armchairs. It takes me a second to realise that the fiftyish man is actually Pastor Len Vorhees. He’s clearly not as at ease as the other two men; I get the impression of a child on his best behaviour.

Introductions are made and I allow myself to be swallowed up by the couch opposite. They all beam at me; none of their smiles meet their eyes.

‘Flexible tells me you work for the BBC,’ Dr Lund begins. ‘I tell you, son, I’m not one for television, but I like that
Cavendish Hall
show. They knew how to behave in those days, didn’t they? Had their morals straight. And you’re out here wanting to do a documentary, something like that?’

Before I can get a word in, he continues, ‘We get a lot of fellas wanting to do interviews. From all over the world. But I tell you, now might be the right time to get the message into England.’

I’m about to respond when two women appear through the door that leads to one of the suite’s bedrooms. I recognise the taller of the two as Dr Lund’s wife, Sherry–she’s as coiffed and air-brushed as the photograph on the back of her latest cookbook. The woman hovering behind her couldn’t be more of a contrast. She’s as thin as a broom, her lined mouth is lipstick-free, and a white miniature poodle of some sort lolls in her arms.

I get to my feet but Dr Lund waves me back down. He introduces Sherry, and the other woman as Pastor Len’s wife, Kendra. Kendra barely glances in my direction and Sherry beams at me for a nanosecond before turning to her husband. ‘Don’t forget that Mitch is on his way to see you, Teddy.’ She blasts me with another practised smile. ‘We’re just going to take Snookie for some air.’ Then she sweeps Kendra and the dog out of the suite.

‘Let’s get down to business,’ Dr Lund says to me. ‘What exactly do you have in mind, son? What sort of documentary are you planning on doing?’

‘Well…’ I say. And suddenly, for absolutely no reason, my carefully practised pitch dries up and my mind goes blank. In desperation I fix on Pastor Len Vorhees. ‘Perhaps I could start… I
caught your talk, Pastor Vorhees… it was, um, interesting. May I ask you about your theory?’

‘Ain’t a theory, son,’ Flexible growls, while managing to keep his smile in place. ‘It’s the truth.’

I have no idea why these three men are making me feel so nervous. Maybe it’s the force of their collective convictions and personalities–you don’t get to be a Fortune 500 preacher by being uncharismatic. I manage to get myself under control. ‘But… if you’re saying the first four seals have just been opened, doesn’t this contradict what you believe? That the church will be raptured
before
the horsemen bring devastation to the earth?’ Eschatology–the study of End Times prophecy–gets complicated very fast. From my research, I’ve been led to believe that Dr Lund and Flexible are followers of Pre-Tribulation Rapture theory, where the Rapture of the church will take place just before the seven year tribulation period (i.e. before the Antichrist takes over and makes life miserable for the rest of us). Pastor Len’s beliefs fall within the Post-Tribulation Rapture theory, whereby reborn Christians will remain on the earth as witnesses during the fire and brimstone stage, which, according to him, has just begun.

Pastor Len’s handsome features ripple and he picks at his lapel, but Flexible and Dr Lund chuckle in unison as if I’m a child who’s said something inappropriate but amusing. ‘There’s no contradiction here, son,’ Flexible says. ‘We know from Matthew twenty-four, “Ethnic group will rise against ethnic group. And government against government. There will be famines and earthquakes in various places. All these are the beginning of birth pains.” ’