This Charismatic Christian has gone viral. Why?

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You may have seen the videos going viral on Christian Instagram and TikTok: A young woman with wavy long hair rests her hand on an eager believer; the person then suddenly collapses to the floor, convulsing or crying. Crowds raise their hands and erupt in cheers, shouting, “Hallelujah.” The clips on social media rack up millions of views. Supporters call these expressions of faith evidence of God’s power, while critics deem them staged emotional spectacles.

The woman at the center of these viral moments is Kathryn Krick, a self-proclaimed “apostle” of God and founder of the Five-Fold (5F) Church in Los Angeles.

Krick, 34, has become one of the most popular and controversial figures in the charismatic Christian world. She has now cultivated a global online following, and she travels internationally conducting revival meetings centered on healing, prophecy and what Christians commonly call “deliverance” — prayers intended to free people from demonic oppression.

When I first came across Krick’s videos, I couldn’t stop watching them. Krick doesn’t fit the image commonly associated with a preacher, at least in my mind. She looks more like a young professional headed to a board meeting rather than a revival, often dressed in pantsuits with a gleaming smile and upbeat demeanor.

She’s passionate, and even a bit awkward at times. One observer described her as “organic.” Just as fascinating to me is how thoroughly and intentionally she has embraced the internet. The videos are tightly edited; not a second is wasted to keep up with the viewer’s screen-wired attention spans. A 2024 profile in Alta dubbed her “L.A.’s TikTok Apostle.”

In a recent video, Krick sits on a stage while her followers bring her birthday presents and tell her how much they love her. Some call her “mama” and kneel as they bring their offering.

“Thank you for laying down your life so that we may live,” said one man.

“Bless you, my son,” she said in return.

According to her ministry, her church now reaches followers in more than 170 nations through livestreams and international gatherings. She has over a million subscribers on YouTube and a more modest following of 270K on TikTok.

Krick claims that she received her calling from GeorDavie, a Tanzanian minister who describes himself as a “prophet” and runs his own ministry group called GeorDavie Ministries International. Its website describes the ministry as a “cross-culture church whose mandate is to carry the fire of Apostolic and Prophetic World Missions and represent God’s Kingdom Government as the Standard for Life with believers across Tanzania, Africa, Europe, America and other continents.”

GeorDavie claims that Jesus gave him the keys for a spiritual revival in America and that he’s the “Kingdom spokesperson.”

In several accounts of Krick’s journey, she is clear that she never aspired to become an apostle and preacher. She’s from upstate New York and came to Los Angeles with dreams of becoming an actor. She then pursued Christian electronic music. (Her first single is “Perfect Love.”)

In 2016, Krick was attending a conference where GeorDavie was preaching. Shortly after, he prophesied to her that she was called to be an apostle and that he believed Krick was chosen by God to bring the “anointing” to America and lead the revival there. Krick calls GeorDavie her “spiritual father” and also refers to him as “daddy” and “baba.” She traveled to Tanzania, where, standing on stage, GeorDavie poured oil on Krick’s head, imparting the “anointing” on her and the power to heal others.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, Krick was meeting with small groups in parks, until she recorded a viral reel that elevated her profile and set off her internet fame. “I was called to reach the nations, and God was going to do many miracles through me,” Krick said, according to a profile of her. Krick is also the author of three books, most recently “Ignite Revival,” a guide on how to be a “revival carrier,” discern spirits and release spiritual gifts.

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Fellow Christians are skeptical of Krick’s efforts. Some have called her a fraud who exploits the disabled and the sick. Christian podcaster Adam Ferguson drew attention to GeorDavie’s luxurious cars, the promotional nature of GeorDavie’s appearances and even actions resembling idolatry. (He was once presented with a golden bust of himself.)

When another podcaster confronted Krick about rumors that she had paid actors at her revival meetings, she said, “Absolutely not.”

To conservative podcaster Allie Beth Stuckey, the gift-giving at Krick’s birthday celebration resembled a strange act of worship. “This is veneration,” said Stuckey. “This is so far outside of what is appropriate for Christianity.”

Whatever various groups make of Krick, her virality points to something that people are craving today — an intimate and emotionally charged encounter with God and a faith that’s immediate and personal, that’s based more on tangible physical experiences rather than theology or doctrinal teaching. Krick is also promising things that technology and AI can’t deliver: healing from the wounds of modern life; connection; purpose; and intense, even supernatural, experience of the divine.

Fresh off the press

When I visited Ukraine in March, I spent a day at “Our People” (“Ridni Liudy” in Ukrainian), a senior residential community outside of Kyiv and a home to about 170 elderly residents who lost their homes in the war with Russia. Each story is a heroic feat of physical endurance and strength of spirit. — “From rubble to refuge: How displaced seniors in Ukraine found new lives.”

From synagogue to a new museum

When a house of worship closes, the question is often whether the building can continue serving the community in a meaningful way. The new Salt Lake Art Museum, which I visited during its opening on Friday, offers one compelling example.

The museum is housed in the former Temple B’nai Israel, a historic synagogue built in 1890. The oldest synagogue in Salt Lake City, it once served the city’s Reform Jewish community. It was designed in the Romanesque Revival style and bears a striking architectural resemblance to Boston’s Trinity Church. After the congregation moved in the 1970s, the building took on several lives — as a restaurant and later a furniture store, until Micah Christensen, one of the owners of Anthony’s Fine Arts and Antiques and now the new museum’s director, purchased it in 2023 and transformed it into a museum over two years.

I appreciated that the museum doesn’t erase the building’s religious past but celebrates it. The exhibit about the building’s history includes notes and reflections from former congregants.

“It was a place of community. It was a place of ancestry. A lot of the people that founded this synagogue … were immigrants. Immigrants built this. … A synagogue is nothing more than the love and goodness it contains, and the spirits that still are here remind us that we are truly all descendants from these people and these ideals,” Nadine Guss wrote.

“This was the first institution here for Jews — this was the first place Jews really had a gathering home of their own … and that was so important, not just to the history of the Jews, but to the history of our state,” said Utah politician Patrice Arent.

End notes

Ryan Burge shares the most and least religiously active states.

Pope Leo XIV continues to make ending the war in Gaza one of the defining priorities of his papacy. He made a direct appeal to stop the military actions in the West Bank and Gaza, and to return to negotiations to “achieve a just political solution, founded on the equal dignity and equal rights of every human person.”