by Joe Nickell
Hinn notes that only rarely does he lay hands on someone for healing, but he made an exception for one child whose case was being filmed for the HBO documentary. The boy was blind and dying from a brain tumor. “The Lord's going to touch you,” Hinn promised. The child's parents believed and, although not wealthy, pledged $100 per month to the Benny Hinn Ministries. Subsequently, however, the child died.
Critics, like Reverend Joseph C. Hough, president of New York's Union Theological Seminary, say of the desperately hopeful: “It breaks your heart to know that they are being deceived, because they genuinely are hoping and believing. And they'll leave there thinking that if they didn't get a miracle it's because they didn't believe.” More pointedly, Rabbi Harold S. Kushner stated on A Question of Miracles (Thomas 2001):
I hope there is a special place in Hell for people who try and enrich themselves on the suffering of others. To tantalize the blind, the lame, the dying, the afflicted, the terminally ill, to dangle hope before parents of a severely afflicted child, is an indescribably cruel thing to do, and to do it in the name of God, to do it in the name of religion, I think, is unforgivable.
Amen.
Known as “John of God,” a Brazilian faith healer claims spirits take control of his body to enable him to perform surgeries (without anesthesia) and other healing procedures. The spiritual center he founded, located in the little town of Abadiania in Brazil's remote central highlands, has been dubbed “the Lourdes of South America” (“Controversial Faith-Healer” 2006), while he himself has been called a charlatan and worse (“Is ‘John of God’ a Healer or Charlatan” 2005).
First alerted by a CNN producer to a John of God healing service in Atlanta, I determined to go undercover to get a close look at what was transpiring. I worked with National Geographic Television and Film on a segment for their Is It Real? program titled “Miracle Cures,” which included an analysis of the John of God phenomenon.
JOHN OF GOD
Known in his native Portuguese as João de Deus—“John of God”—João Teixeira de Faria was born in 1942 to poor parents. He grew up unable to stay in school or hold a job. At sixteen, he reportedly discovered his miraculous ability when, in a vision, a woman directed him to a nearby church. There, although he maintains he does not remember what happened, having been entranced, he allegedly performed a miraculous healing.
He thus began a career that impresses the credulous. Claiming to be a medium (one who communicates with spirits of the dead), he insists he is guided by more than thirty entities—although, curiously, João speaks only Portuguese, regardless of which entity is possessing him at a given time. King Solomon was his first entity. Others followed, including Ignatius Loyola, the Spanish noble who founded the Jesuit order in 1540. João's center is named for him: Casa de Dom Inácio de Loyola. Oswaldo Cruz, a physician who helped eradicate yellow fever, is another alleged entity, along with other past healers, in a sort of spiritist pantheon (“Controversial Faith-Healer” 2006; “Is ‘John of God’ a Healer or Charlatan” 2005).
Spiritism is essentially spiritualism, a belief that one can communicate with spirits, but with the added conviction that spirits repeatedly reincarnate in a progression toward enlightenment. In Brazil, which is steeped in superstition and has a climate of belief in African spirits, spiritism has become a powerful religious movement, overlaid onto Catholicism. It may involve mediumistic searches for past lives and even so-called “psychic surgery” (Bragdon 2002, 14–20; Guiley 2000, 360–62).
Supposedly, psychic surgeons open the body paranormally—without surgical instruments or anesthetic—and heal diseases by manipulating vital organs. Typically, they have involved fraudulent practices including sleight of hand. For instance, “tumors” have proved to be pieces of chicken intestines and blood that of a cow (Nickell 1998, 159–62).
John of God, however—styled “João-in-Entity” when supposedly possessed—has a different style. He performs dubious “surgeries” that are either “visible” or “invisible.” The former may involve twisting forceps up a person's nostrils or using a knife to scrape an eyeball or slice open a fleshy abdomen—all without anesthesia. According to a pro-João book, “In over thirty-five years of the Entity's surgery, it has been extremely rare for there to be any infections” (Bragdon 2002, 11).
With “invisible surgery,” the entity du jour gives a prayer, after which thousands of “healing entities” busy themselves, allegedly, by operating on an organ, revitalizing a muscle, or otherwise “simultaneously attending to the problems of the people in the room” (Bragdon 2002, 11). Augmenting the sessions are encouragements to meditate, drink water blessed by the entities, and take prescribed herbal remedies.
INVESTIGATION
I had already obtained a ticket to the John of God event in Atlanta when I was contacted by National Geographic Television. We then worked together on an investigation that shed new light on the Brazilian's claims.
Shrewdly, João's entities avoided performing “visible surgeries” in Atlanta, where he might have been arrested. I was chosen for an “invisible” procedure as I hobbled by with a cane, wearing the requisite white outfit that, I was told, “helps maintain a higher vibrational frequency” (“John of God in Atlanta” 2006a; 2006b). I also wore a minor disguise, since frequent media appearances have made me more recognizable (see figures 31.1 and 31.2).
As I would discover, João is an unlikely miracle worker. A grade-school dropout, he was, reports an admirer, “forced to live as a wanderer, traveling from city to city healing the sick and living from their donations of food” (Pellegrino-Estrich 1995). Because, in Brazil, it is illegal to practice medicine without a license, he has been charged and fined—even jailed briefly. A district attorney who investigated him has reported that João sent her—indirectly, through a relative—death threats. John of God denies that, along with an accusation that he took advantage of one woman who had come to him for healing. “There is a lot of jealousy. People talk,” he says defensively. “What dictates is the conscience toward God.” Noting his apparent wealth, some critics say his “healings” are merely a front to make him a rich man (“Is ‘John of God’ a Healer or Charlatan” 2005).
Certainly, his procedures are a sham. The twisting of forceps up a pilgrim's nose is an old circus and carnival sideshow stunt, explained in my book Secrets of the Sideshows (Nickell 2005, 238–41). Looking far more tortuous than it is, the feat depends on the fact that, unknown to many people, there is a sinus cavity that extends horizontally from the nostrils over the roof of the mouth to a surprising distance—enough to accommodate a spike, ice pick, or other implement used in the “Human Blockhead” act.
At my instigation, National Geographic filmed a performance of such an act at the Washington, DC, show bar Palace of Wonders, operated by carny impresario (and friend) James Taylor. Our blockhead was “Swami Yomahmi,” also known as Stephon Walker, whom I introduced with my best carny-sideshow spiel. Walker even cranked a rotating drill bit into his nose. He also used a blunt knife to scrape the white part of his eyeball and acknowledged that such stunts look more risky than they are.
A surgeon who commented on John of God's incisions stated that they were superficial (little more than skin deep, apparently) and would not be expected either to bleed very much or even to cause much initial pain. The same is true of scraping the white of the eye or inserting something into the nasal cavity (“Controversial Faith-Healer” 2006). Physicians affiliated with the Skeptical Inquirer voiced similar opinions. The brief nasal procedure occasionally leaves someone's nose bleeding, but his or her body's own healing mechanisms will no doubt repair the minor injury. The bottom line regarding the procedures is that they are pseudosurgeries that have no objective medical benefit other than the well-known placebo effect.
Furthermore, the “holy water” that “João-in-Entity” blesses, and that supposedly helps effect cures, is ordinary water. I provided a specially labeled bottle I had purchased in Atlanta, and National Geographic
had it tested at a major DC-area facility, the Washington Suburban Sanitation Commission. It was found to have no unusual properties and to be entirely unremarkable (“Miracle Cures” 2006).1
As to João-in-Entity's herbal remedies, actually only a single herb is prescribed, but those seeking aid are told that the entities are able to use it to help cure a wide variety of ailments (“Miracle Cures” 2006). The herb is one of the many varieties of passionflower, a mystical plant associated with Jesus’ crucifixion, and it has been used since ancient times as a “sedative, nervine and antispasmodic.” Herbalists say it soothes the nervous system and produces restful sleep that brightens one's outlook (Lucas 1972, 128–29). Small wonder it would be the drug of choice for a “healing” center to distribute widely.
Many people offer testimonials as to the beneficial effects they have supposedly received at the hands of John of God. In fact, however, the successes attributed to the entities may be nothing more than what occurs at other alleged miracle sites, like Lourdes, where the vast majority of supplicants remain uncured. Since such “healings” are typically held to be miraculous because they are “medically inexplicable,” claimants are engaging in the logical fallacy of “arguing from ignorance”—that is, drawing a conclusion from a lack of knowledge. Touted healings may actually be attributable to such factors as misdiagnosis, spontaneous remission, psychosomatic conditions, prior medical treatment, the body's own healing power, and other effects (Nickell 1998, 133–37).
Consider, for example, the case of Matthew Ireland, a pilgrim from Guilford, Vermont, whose doctor told him he had a type of brain tumor that was fast growing and inoperable. After two years of radiation treatments and chemotherapy, Ireland made three visits to John of God. Subsequent MRI testing did show that the tumor mass had shrunk by 50 percent, but it was not gone as the entity had claimed. Ireland's former oncologist attributes the partial success to the aggressive radiation treatment and concedes it is possible that the specific type of tumor may have been misdiagnosed (“Miracle Cures” 2006; “Is ‘John of God’ a Healer or Charlatan” 2005).
Often, at healing services like those of John of God in Brazil, pilgrims’ emotions may trigger the release of endorphins, brain-produced substances that reduce sensitivity to pain. They may thus believe and act as if they have been miraculously healed—even throwing away their crutches—whereas later investigation reveals their situation to be as bad, or worse, than before (Nickell 1998, 136). However, I did note that, at the Atlanta John of God event, those who came with walkers, crutches, and wheelchairs left with them. Sadly, the entities had not taken away their afflictions, only their money.
A milestone in supernatural claims has been reached: Audrey Santo—the brain-damaged girl in Worcester, Massachusetts, who, supposedly, exhibited stigmata, prompted effigies to drip oil and Communion wafers to bleed, and miraculously sparked healings of the sick—died on April 14, 2007. She was twenty-three.
Known as “Little Audrey,” she had been in a coma-like state since August 9, 1987, when, at the age of three, she suffered a near drowning. Controversy began a year after the accident, when her mother, Linda, spent $8,000 to take her to the shrine at Medjugorje, Yugoslavia, in hopes of a miracle. Instead, Audrey suffered a sudden cardiac arrest. Although she survived, the air ambulance that was needed to rush her home cost $25,000—a sum her grandmother had to mortgage her home to pay. Linda Santo's response to the near-fatal incident was to blame it on the proximity of a Yugoslavian abortion clinic (Harrison 1998; Sherr 1998).
“VICTIM SOUL”
Soon, Audrey was being promoted as a “victim soul.” However, Catholic theologians, observing that that term was not an official one within the church, questioned whether Audrey demonstrated the capacity—at the age of three or later—to make a free choice to suffer on behalf of others.
After Audrey was exhibited at a stadium with some ten thousand in attendance and a window was added to her bedroom so that pilgrims could file by and pray for her to intercede with God on their behalf, the local bishop ordered that such practices be discontinued. Also curbed was the practice of offering oil-soaked cotton swabs as healing talismans. These restrictions may have diminished revenues, but the Santo family's situation was perhaps less financially desperate than many imagined, since Audrey received round-the-clock nursing care from the Massachusetts Commission for the Blind (Weingarten 1998).
I began to follow the Audrey Santo case as “miracle” claims about her proliferated. When an investigating commission appointed by the Worcester bishop issued a preliminary report on January 21, 1999, I appeared that evening on the NBC Nightly News with Tom Brokaw to offer a brief skeptical view of the case.
SUSPICIOUS PHENOMENA
For a later ABC 20/20 segment, a producer called and discussed with me the phenomenon of weeping icons in the Santo home. We considered monitoring the effigies with surveillance cameras, but I pointed out that, if trickery were involved, it was unlikely that such an investigative technique would be allowed. As Lynn Sherr subsequently reported on the program, “We wanted to do our own test with a surveillance camera in the [home] chapel, but the family prefers to let the commission finish its work first” (Sherr 1998).
On an episode of CBS's 48 Hours titled “Desperate Measures” (1999), a reporter asked Linda Santo how one would know whether someone in the household was simply applying the oil “in the middle of the night.” She replied, “You don't know.” Samples of oil were independently tested on a few occasions. One analysis by a Pittsburgh laboratory revealed the substance to consist of 80 percent vegetable oil and 20 percent chicken fat, according to the Washington Post, which ordered the test (Weingarten 1998). The presence of chicken fat—which, along with common vegetable oil, is readily available in a home kitchen (consistent with chicken having been deep-fried)—seems particularly revealing. So does one volunteer's observation that there tended to be an increase in oil on effigies on the days pilgrims were expected (“Desperate Measures” 1999).
Much later, when I was involved with a television documentary on the case, the producer tried to arrange for me to visit the Santo home. Linda Santo, I was told, was tentatively agreeable, but, after she consulted a priest who was a behind-the-scenes promoter of alleged phenomena there, she refused. I had clearly become persona non grata, no doubt because of my repeatedly voiced suspicions about the circumstances under which the icons and figurines dripped oil and the hosts (Communion wafers) supposedly bled. (I have observed that when I have unrestricted possession of a “miraculous” object it either ceases to perform or I explain the phenomenon [Nickell 2006]). (For more on this phenomenon, see chapter 9, “Animated Images.”)
MIRACULOUS CURES
Miracle healings attributed to Audrey's intercession were also unconvincing. For example, a woman was supposedly healed of liver cancer, but the patient's oncologist pointed out that she had already begun a new cancer treatment and that it had clearly begun to work even before she had gone to see Audrey. The woman continued to regard the remission as a miracle even when the cancer returned, spreading to her brain (“Desperate Measures” 1999). Again, there was the case of a young man injured in a motorcycle accident whose doctors reportedly said he would never walk again; yet, after his mother went to see Audrey, he was able to walk without his crutches. Actually, his personal physician noted that there had been a 75 percent chance that he would indeed walk (Sherr 1998).
Audrey's reputed stigmata was especially troubling. If faked, it indicated outright abuse. Therefore, not surprisingly, in 1999, the Santo case—perhaps unknown to most viewers—provided the impetus for an episode of the CBS television dramatic series Judging Amy. As a researcher wrote CSI executive director Barry Karr, the show was to be “similar to the Audrey Santo story that Joe Nickell has been involved with” (Yeuell 1999). I subsequently discussed the case with the researcher and made some suggestions. Called “Victim Soul,” the episode (which first aired on October 5, 1999) featured Judge Amy Madison Gray being chall
enged to “determine if a comatose boy who is believed to have healing powers is being abused by his grandmother” (“Victim Soul” 1999).
I took no pleasure in my adversarial role as the arch skeptic in the Santo case. Indeed, I was deeply saddened by the family's plight: Far from receiving the miracle they prayed for, Audrey almost died from a trip to a healing shrine, lingered in a persistent vegetative state for two decades, unknowingly suffered indignities and controversy, and finally died. Supposed to heal others, she was bereft of powers.
Her sad story has now ended. Although many have tried to find meaning in the tragedy, even Linda Santo wondered aloud: if there had not been phenomena like the “bleeding” Communion wafers, she asked, “if there was just this child in bed, would anyone pay attention to this?” (Weingarten 1998).
Central to Christianity is the belief that Jesus rose from the dead and (at least according to fundamentalists) that he rose bodily into heaven. But were the biblical narratives of Jesus’ resurrection really only ghost stories of their day—belief tales intended to convince the credulous that his death was not an ending?
BACKGROUND
As discussed in chapter 25, resurrection of the dead is a supernatural concept deriving from certain ancient religions. The concept may have been prompted by first-hand observation of hasty burials of apparently dead people who were not in fact dead, and later returned to the living.
Such cases may well have inspired ancient stories of resurrection, such as the account of the prophet Elijah (1 Kings 17:17–24) and again that of Elisha (2 Kings 4:34–35).
The Gospel of John (11:1–12:11) credits Jesus with a similar feat, raising Lazarus from the dead. But many scholars would agree with Lloyd Graham (1975, 337) that the story is merely a foreshadowing of the resurrection of Jesus.