The Rise of Pentecostal Churches
Jan. 16, 2007 — -- More and more these days in urban, Hispanic neighborhoods around the United States, decrepit storefronts and abandoned buildings have been converted into churches.
It's a storefront one day, a church, the next where a Hispanic congregation worships, raising its hands and swaying with the same kind of spontaneity that landed the church there in the first place.
This week The New York Times published a three-part series called "House Afire," about the rise of Pentecostalism -- the world's fastest-growing branch of Christianity. The trend is particularly strong among Hispanic immigrants.
Many are drawn to the faith's spirited style of worship. Music, tambourines, singing, praising, healing, speaking in tongues, and frenzied movements are all staples of a Pentecostal service. It's believed the Holy Spirit comes through this exuberance and directly ignites churchgoers, providing them with a personal relationship to God.
Pentecostalism also emphasizes attaining rewards in the here and now, a popular theme for many Hispanic immigrants in search of the American dream. There is a strong emphasis on education, hard work and prosperity, and talk of creating a better life not in the afterworld but here, even in the ghettos, on earth.
According to the Times' metro reporter David Gonzalez, who spent more than a year on "House Afire," Pentecostals are ambitious. On ABC News' Spanish-language "Exclusiva" podcast, he recalled how a Pentecostal pastor discussed his congregation's ambitions.
"The pastor said, 'We are more ambitious than Rockefeller.' Not that they want to be filthy rich, but … they want success, that if they live right by this religion, their children will go to school, they'll get an education."
Just a few decades ago, almost all Hispanics in the United States were Catholic. But today, Catholicism faces heavy competition. Most Hispanic Pentecostals are former Catholics. Gonzalez said one reason they convert is Pentecostals do not need saints and angels and statues, not even a priest.
