Why Billy Graham?

David Poling

• Publisher: Sunstone Press
• Year: 2007
• ISBN:
  9781611391589
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Religious Biographies

Why has Billy Graham, more than any other person, left his imprint on the religious life and history of our times? Why has a man who always cherished quiet conversations with ordinary people made international headlines as perhaps the world best-known "religious celebrity"? And how did Billy Graham stay free of the tarnishing Elmer-Gantry-type temptations of money and women? David Poling asks these and many other questions critics have often asked--and he offers answers as one who was an outspoken critic in the past but changed his mind and attitudes. Placing Billy Graham's life and ministry under the journalist's microscope, Poling examines the personal qualities and unchanging message that characterized the great evangelist. He also chronicles the triumphs and struggles of the Graham Crusades and other far-reaching ministries. Evaluating the man in the context of the global society of which Graham still remains so prominent a figure, Poling traces his ministry and its effects from the early days to his position of leadership and reveals why Billy Graham won his abiding respect and admiration and remains a shining example to be followed in his private and public life and conduct. DAVID POLING is author/co-author of fourteen books. He has been pastor to Presbyterian congregations in New York, Oklahoma, New Mexico and Texas. His weekly syndicated column on faith and ethics appeared in 600 newspapers, with an audience of 17 million. Married to Ann Reid Poling, a Wooster College classmate(and known to others as "his favorite theologian") the couple has four grown children and eight grandchildren. Next book: "The Gospel According to the Apaches."

CHAPTER 1

The World Was Ready

After World War II, a major religious reawakening swept across the United States. The surge toward the recovery of family life (delayed for millions by the global conflict) and the desire to settle down after so many years of upset, disarray, and death brought many people to a fresh awareness of their spiritual need. New cars, new homes, new jobs were evident everywhere. Booming colleges and university growth, coupled with aspirations for international understanding, intensified the search for wholeness and spiritual belonging. Churches experienced sudden growth. Church attendance reached a high for the twentieth century. Financial strength flowed into local congregations, and the baby boom crowded Sunday schools with future members of tomorrow's church.

In fact, everything was primed for a great tomorrow. The stock market was building toward a postwar record height. Television began its dazzling entry into the minds of Western civilization, promising information and entertainment on a level never before experienced or enjoyed. Electronics became a code word for a magical future. And Americans added their special seasoning to all this social, political, and economic excitement by moving all over the place, but mostly from East to West, searching for the nicer home, a better job, a happier marriage.

In all this sunshine and song of the early fifties, a dark, ugly, and frightening cloud rose to the ceiling of the human skyline — the hydrogen bomb. Its atmospheric presence, resulting from testing and retesting, reminded Americans and Russians as well as the rest of the world of the stark horror of intercontinental destruction. Atomic warfare was not only possible, but a reality for East–West relationships. The wartime allies who had rid the world of Hitler now seemed capable of doing the same with each other. The Communists' expansion into Eastern Europe—linked with their success in China and the Far East — brought fresh torment, suspicion, and fear to the Americans. The citizens of North America thought they had already invested enough in World War II, now to enjoy peace, international tranquillity, and the satisfaction of postponed personal ambitions. Things were turning sour. Washington politicians were replaying the corruption game. The stock market turned belly up. Cars and homes had a tasteless fulfillment, bringing buckets of indebtedness. And the people in church seemed to be milling around without direction or motivation.

In this climate of frustration and anger and apprehension, Billy Graham began his preaching ministry, and his audience growth was amazing. In September 1949, following the spectacular atomic–hydrogen display of the American–Russian weapons testing (and prior to the anguish of the Korean conflict which verified the Iron Curtain between East and West), Billy Graham arrived in California.

Billy had been pastor of a small congregation in Western Springs, Illinois, in the late forties. Fresh out of Wheaton College, Graham persuaded his hundred-member congregation to sponsor a Sunday evening radio show on a Chicago station. "Songs in the Night " combined the warmth of gospel music, crisp biblical messages by Graham, and a midwestern folksiness that caught on immediately. Shortly after that, George Beverly Shea joined the program as soloist and announcer.

Billy's talent, plus his yearning for a wider outreach, brought him in touch with "Youth for Christ," an organization whose purpose is to evangelize high-school-age youth. He became their principal evangelist for three years, 1946–49. As his experience strengthened his convictions, an evangelistic association was formed in Minneapolis, and the early team started to function professionally and enthusiastically. Youth for Christ gave Billy a firsthand grasp of the spiritual struggle going on in the lives of thousands of young people in Western society; his campaigns not only covered every state in the Union, but also much of Europe and Great Britain. As Youth for Christ began achieving measurable success, the mainline churches promptly greeted this surging growth with derision and putdown: too literal about the Bible, too arrogant toward existing congregations, and too self-righteous toward the historic roots of religion. Much of this controversy came from the clergy who saw their own youth groups stumbling. They resented outsiders, flourishing under new techniques of personal evangelism and — led by bright young leaders such as Graham — communicating a red-hot gospel.

However, the liberal magazine Christian Century, establishment father of the mainline Protestant churches, had to admit that something more than a ministerial sneer should greet the success of Youth for Christ.

Yet the fact that it has gone so far as it has is proof that something close to spiritual famine exists among large sections of our population, including rising generations, who are more hungry for faith than their elders. The churches are not feeding these starving people and they cannot be indifferent to the challenge which this attempt to use new channels of communication for preaching the gospel offers them. They should do likewise and better.¹

The appearance of Graham in Los Angeles marked the young pastor's breakthrough as a celebrated evangelist and preacher. Not that his Youth for Christ days were unsuccessful or ordinary — he is known to have gained some 7,000 youth converts for Christ in a single year. Yet nothing in his experience, nothing in the early New England rallies, nothing in Chicago or Baltimore would compare to the spiritual explosion that was to be revealed in the Los Angeles meetings that would finally bring the full force of even the secular press behind this young preacher from North Carolina. William Randolph Hearst sent his famous note to his editors after observing the extraordinary influence of this young preacher; two words: "Puff Graham." Hearst may have been the ignition point, but friends of Graham would answer that he had something to puff that belonged neither to the press or grandfather Hearst's conclusion: Graham had the American restlessness and uneasiness by the throat. And he understood the timeless message of Jesus Christ to reach and reclaim these people who honestly sought newness of life, and wholeness in the Spirit of God.

To Billy Graham, more than any other person in the last half of the twentieth century, was given that particular skill of preaching which was accompanied by a special insight into Scripture and human events, an understanding of the inner hunger, the gasping spiritual thirst that afflicted so many millions of inhabitants of Western civilization. I was tempted to say inhabitants of the United States, but Billy's worldwide ministry keeps crowding into my thoughts, and it was there in those Los Angeles days that this witness bloomed with such vigor and influence.

He was soon saying, with that Southern accent that startled some and put off others, some crisp, cutting conclusions about life:

All humanity is seeking the answers to the confusion, the moral sickness, the spiritual emptiness that oppresses the world. All mankind is crying out for guidance, for comfort, for peace. . . . We talk of peace but are confronted by war. We devise elaborate schemes for security but have not found it. We grasp at every passing straw and even as we clutch, it disappears.²

The evangelist built his initial preaching around this hungering search, the "Great Quest" as he would later label it in his book, Peace With God. At first we thought that political freedom was the saving answer and when the world was politically liberated, happiness would break out. When this failed so utterly, with staggering corruption in all levels of government, no matter if totalitarian or free, men and women chased a new faith in education. And this young tree planted and watered and trusted later revealed the same elements of decay, the same towering disappointments, for as the evangelist concluded about those miles of college graduates,

Though our heads are crammed with knowledge, our hearts are empty. . . . We are the most informed people in the history of civilization — and yet the most miserable.³

Then Billy came to the heartbreak of California (which was really the regret of all America but done in a flashier, most casual style):

The brightest, most inviting path of all was the one marked higher standards of living. Almost everyone felt he could trust this one to carry him automatically into that better and more joyful world. This was felt to be the sure route. . . . This was the path that led through the beautiful full-color magazine advertisements, past all the shining new cars, past the gleaming rows of electric refrigerators and automatic washing machines, past all the fat chickens cooking in the brand-new copper bottomed pots. We knew we'd hit the jackpot this time . . . but has it made us happy? Has it brought us the joy and satisfaction and the reason for living that we were seeking? No.⁴

Those sermons of the early Graham era were marked with a lethal application that reminds us thirty years later that he has always had the knack of knowing his audience, sensing where they are hurting and hoping, and is prepared to intensify that hurting and hoping before offering the helping, saving message of Christ.

Again, those California nights heard that Southern accent hammering home the truth into so many shallow lives:

America is said to have the highest per capita boredom of any spot on earth! We know that because we have the greatest variety and greatest number of artificial amusements of any country. People have become so empty that they can't even entertain themselves. They have to pay other people to amuse them, to make them laugh, to try to make them feel warm and happy and comfortable for a few minutes, to try to lose that awful, frightening, hollow feeling . . . that terrible, dreaded feeling of being lost and alone.

Billy spoke steadily of the three facts that "constitute the true story of man:

his past is filled with sin,

his present is overflowing with sorrow,

and the certainty of death faces

him in the future."

The answer is Jesus Christ, "the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever."⁵

Billy had a clarity and freshness that urged his listeners to get up out of their seats and come forward and claim it in a commitment to Christ.

That was the formula. Critics called it manipulative, staged, commercial. Yet faithful people argued, convincingly, that God's Spirit was stirring in Los Angeles. The initial five weeks swelled into a massive sixth week, with not only thousands in attendance, but some 700 of the 1000 Los Angeles congregations now supporting the Graham crusade. Among those who came forward, hesitantly, reluctantly, certainly wonderingly were show-business personalities, professional mobsters, and outstanding sports figures. Graham had become a celebrity, a celebrity for Christ, who like Paul declared that "I am made all things to all men, that I might by all means save some" (1 Cor. 9:22).

By now, in this third decade of Billy Graham's successful ministry, you have heard of the thousands who have come forward and the thousands more, perhaps, who have made their quiet resolution at home to follow Jesus Christ as a result of this evangelist's preaching. What is essential to grasp is the reality that Graham's persuasive preaching has a second- and third-wave effect through the lives of those who are converted. And just as important is this: Graham's influence today is founded on the same formula and strategy of almost thirty years ago — an absolute trust in the power of God; a conviction concerning the living spiritual strength of the risen Lord; total trust in the power of prayer; the openness to believe that God will do new and wonderful things through those who love Him and His Word.

It is fair to argue that Graham's preaching themes over the years rarely change, only the illustrations. While it is true that his theological perspective has widened with his experience, it is just as correct to state that his primary topic is the emptiness, loneliness, spiritual vacuum of men and women, their lostness in sin, and sorrow over death. These are as current as next Christmas and unless these needs, hurts, and sorrows are covered by Christ's redeeming love, the situation only turns to despair.

A brilliant example of what we are talking about is illustrated in Charles Colson's book, Born Again. This Watergate personality was as tough and cunning as any person in the Nixon administration. His scheming manner and hardness of heart were vocabulary terms for the Washington cocktail circuit, words used by people suspicious and afraid. While Colson feared no one, he was haunted by the inner self, a solitary spiritual torment. During a visit with Tom Phillips, the president of Raytheon Corporation, the dynamics of a religious experience were revealed to Colson by this friend:

My life wasn't complete, Chuck. I would go to the office each day and do my job, striving all the time to make the company succeed, but there was a big hole in my life. I began to read the Scriptures, looking for answers. Something made me realize I needed a personal relationship with God. One night I was in New York on business and noticed that Billy Graham was having a Crusade in Madison Square Garden. I went — curious, I guess — hoping maybe I'd find some answers. What Graham said that night put it all into place for me. I saw what was missing, the personal relationship with Jesus Christ, the fact that I hadn't ever asked Him into my life, hadn't turned my life over to Him. So I did it — that very night* at the Crusade.⁶

More discussions followed. Bible reading began. Books, such as C. S. Lewis's classic, Mere Christianity, became bedside companions for the groping, deeply disturbed Colson. Then on a Friday ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Contents
• Foreword to this Edition
• Preface
• Chapter 1: The World Was Ready
• Chapter 2: The Price Of Immediate Success
• Chapter 3: Reaching Out
• Chapter 4: The Fame Game
• Chapter 5: What The Evangelist Tells His Friends
• Chapter 6: Searching For The Family Of God
• Chapter 7: Billy And The Bible
• Chapter 8: A Classic Graham Sermon
• Chapter 9: The Gift Of Tomorrow
• Chapter 10: The Legacy Of Billy's Warning To America
• Notes