Why does TBN scare me?

I was fumbling through some YouTube videos of converts to Islam from Christianity and from Islam to Christianity. It seems to be this really big competition, as if it were a sport of some kind, with rules and schemes and game plans and tactics and scores being kept. Kinda odd. Fascinating, but odd.

So I found a feature heading about 16,000 Muslims converting to Christianity and I start watching and notice it is from TBN. The channel creeps me out for some reason. From its horribly tacky decor, to its overdressed visitors, to the obligatory big hair of the wives and the slicked back grey hair of the hosts, to the overenthusiastic, cliche ridden blather that passes as dialogue, the audience appearing as if they are staged actors from late night infomercials, the whole thing is truly creepy.

I spent several years in a church where people watched TBN and praised it. I understand its appeal. I know what draws viewers to it. But something is fundamentally wrong with it. And I can never quite pinpoint it. But I know when I watch it. It is its own universe with its own language and its own dress code. I think that's what it is. It seems otherworldly. And I'm not talking in the sense of a replica of heaven. I hope heaven isn't this tacky. Blah.

Sure they are sincere, sure they are enthused and they may be speaking words of truth. But is this what is what someone would have to do in order to convert to the Christianity of which they speak? How do we separate the truth of the Christian message when it is so grossly packaged? Of course, that is my opinion. I may obviously be considered gross to someone else. Which reinforces the point.

How is the Truth separated from the package in which it is delivered?

In terms of the videos of Christians converting to Islam, these can be just as freaky. I can't help but notice that all of the converts begin to take on the same look, a beard that just won't come in, a certain glazed look in the eye as the talk into the camera. I recently found one where they had something of an altar call as people came up to accept Islam. They appeared before an entire congregation of Muslims, all shouting "Allahu Akbar" as the new recruits stepped forward to accept Islam. It was truly bizarre, nothing like my experience in a mosque when I had considered taking Shahadah. It's supposed to be a deeply personal, private thing, not a public event. Could it be that even Islam, so subdued and intensely personal, is falling prey to the cult of entertainment?

There is some weird stuff out there in conversion country. If either one of these represent what is in store for the convert, no wonder there is a militant atheist movement afoot.