FOR one brief moment last weekend, north Dublin was transformed into Tennessee in 1925.
"I don't believe in Darwin's theory of evolution", said the bearded figure with the guitar, raising images of Deep South type monkey trials in Drumcondra with musical accompaniment.
Larry Hogan, singer songwriter and staunch anti Darwinian, was addressing the faithful at the Seventh Annual National Charismatic Youth Conference in Dublin last Saturday. No one laughed, but then no one suggested they should all descend on the nearest natural history department with pitchforks and blazing torches, either.
Larry told jokes that were nearly as old as God Himself and performed songs in which simplicity was the cardinal rule one consisted solely of "I love you" sung 66 times. The crowd liked Larry and gave him a rousing round of applause when he finished.
The crowd, it should be noted, gave everyone a rousing round of applause. The young members of the charismatic renewal movement were nothing if not nice people - demonstrative types who clapped everything they couldn't hug.
The charismatic renewal movement grew out of Vatican II and there remains something of that era about it: in the choice of music, in the use of mime and drama and, occasionally, in the dress sense of some of the participants.
There were some in attendance for whom the fashion clock had stopped in 1972. One leading figure wore a jumper so awful that only someone convinced of the transience of material things could wear it comfortably. "God has no taste," remarked Larry Hogan at one point. It was hard to disagree.
Yet the young participants here were obviously happy. "I come here so I don't lose touch with the spiritual side of me," said Elaine O'Dwyer from Bray. Carol Sheridan from Clondalkin was attending for the fourth time: "You meet the same people each year and everyone you meet is nice. It's good craic. Everyone's the same. There's nobody different."
There were some differences, although these only became apparent when the music began and the crowd tried to dance and clap along. People who had been cruelly deprived of rhythm from an early age failed to clap in time to even the most rudimentary time signatures. At best, the clapping sounded like someone randomly dropping handfuls of pebbles down a corrugated iron roof.
"Charismatic renewal would be perceived as extreme because people are very challenged by it", said Geraldine Creaton, one of the organisers. "But it's not what the speakers say, it's in the prayer, the mime, the music.
"It can make people very joyful or you can see people in tears. It's the Holy Spirit, I can't explain it."
Back on stage, Andy the cheerleader asked the crowd if they were ready to praise Jesus. "Yes," they responded. "Rock n roll," said Andy, improbably. It was that kind of day.