NEWS
With a special awe he reserves for big-league athletes and big-name politicians, Billy Graham pointed to a sheet of blue plastic covering the pitcher’s mound in the Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum and said: “That’s where Vida Blue stands.”
But the Oakland Athletics’ pitching ace wasn’t there. He was in Cleveland seeking his twentieth win of the season. He lost.
Evangelist Graham, however, was winning. It was, perhaps, the peak crusade of his career. As he drove the Gospel home from the platform at second base for ten straight days beginning July 23, more people swarmed onto the infield to receive Christ than at any previous Graham crusade in America over the past twenty-five years.
There were overflow throngs on several nights despite temperatures in the forties, which, strangely enough, are not unusual for the San Francisco Bay area, summer or winter. And it was a youth crusade from start to finish. Night after night a good three-quarters of the audience was under twenty-five.
“Youth are turning to Christ on a scale that perhaps we’ve never known in human history,” the 52-year-old evangelist told a youth-night audience as he preached about the “Jesus Revolution.” It was, he added, an answer to the prayers of the older generation.
The grand total of attendance for the Northern California Crusade was 411,700; of these more than 21,000 came forward to register some kind of decision about Christ. The 5,300 trained counselors were kept busy almost every night, rapping and praying with straights and hippies, children as young as six or seven, elderly people in their eighties and nineties. Students accounted for 70 per cent of the decisions.
Billy preached about judgment and the lake of fire, demons and witches, earthquakes and the second coming, the temptations and loneliness of youth, and Jesus Christ, Superstar.
“Some of you have just enough religion to keep you from getting a real dose of Jesus,” Graham warned in his hard-hitting, biblical sermon on the judgment. “Do you think God is going to spare you or our world? Are we God’s special pets?”
But no message was more enthusiastically received than the one on the Jesus Revolution. In fact, Billy was at his best—obviously most at ease—on the four scheduled youth nights. The evangelist, his longish, graying hair creeping below his collar, told the Thursday audience of 44,500 (second in size only to the final Sunday crowd of 51,000) that “Jesus is coming back to put it all together.”
Amens and applause punctuated his next sentence: “A new world and a new social order is coming, and black and white children will walk together, hand in hand.… Before this old world blows to bits, Jesus is coming!”
On the first warmish evening of the crusade (the fog usually rolled in over the Berkeley hills as dusk fell), Graham addressed another youth night on “The Bubble That Bursts.” Wearing an electric red tie, a blue shirt, a gray striped suit, and a brilliant orange “One Way With Jesus” sticker, Graham said Jesus alone can bring peace to the human heart. (Earlier, Graham had worn a topcoat in the pulpit.)
That night, as on several others, demonstrators had planned to disrupt the meeting. Among the several thousand inquirers on the infield were a few representatives of a coalition of peace groups. Several Viet Cong-type flags were unfurled, and a “Gay Lib Now” sign was displayed.
But interference was minor throughout the ten days. Much of the credit accrued to Billy himself, who disarmed potential troublemakers by a sunny injunction to his legions of staunch supporters: “Treat them with Christian love and Christian firmness,” and then in an aside to the miscreants (real or imagined): “We’ll do all in our power to protect you so you won’t get hurt.”
The Reverend Paul Lindstrom’s “rival revival” at a nearby hotel (billed as the “Christian Militants’ Crusade”) drew fourteen persons—including three infants—on the day 41,600 turned out to hear Billy and the team.
The Northern California Crusade was a team effort all the way. The smoothly directed choir of 5,000 drew consistent applause night after night. Cliff Barrows led the choir and the entire assembly in “Put Your Hand in the Hand” on the third youth night; a throbbing clap in time with the music reverberated across the coliseum as the sun’s last rays shone on the faces of happy people packing the top galleries.
Barrows and soloist George Bev Shea were honored publicly by Graham; each has been with the team twenty-five years. “We’ve had an amazing unity all these years,” declared Billy. “We plan to stay together.”
Black Christians were visible on the platform every day (soloists Ethel Waters and Myrtle Hall, crusade staffer Howard O. Jones, and local Negro clergymen who took part), but there were very few blacks and Chicanos in the audience.
Roman Catholics were surprisingly abundant. One was platform guest Charles Dullea, a Jesuit priest of the Biblical Institute of Rome. Dullea, whose home is in San Francisco, had just completed a book commending Graham for his methods and message, and most particularly for his ministry of “inducing people to make a commitment to Christ.”
Jesus people—hippie-type Christians—were scattered throughout the coliseum nightly. Not a few were counselors; they were especially effective with inquirers of like dress and style. The Christian World Liberation Front sponsored nightly busses that rounded up scruffy street people off Telegraph Avenue near the University of California campus in Berkeley. Those who clambered aboard were often militantly outspoken against Graham. Some tried to panhandle money and smokes from the coliseum audience. The CWLF had a come-on: giant letters emblazoned on the busses read “People’s Committee to Investigate Billy Graham.”
“We tell them they should come and hear Graham, then make up their own mind about him,” explained a spokesman. On one bus, someone had penciled below the slogan: “Why not try investigating Jesus Christ instead?” More than one who came to scoff ended up doing just that—investigating Jesus Christ—and discovered him as a living Saviour.
Spiritually hungry persons traveled from great distances to attend the crusade. One man flew in from Europe, was converted, and then flew home before the crusade ended. A widower from Arcadia, Florida, flew to Oakland (accompanied by his butler) to accept Christ.
First-time decisions were made by a circus elephant trainer, two stadium guards, and a 48-year-old man of Hindu background from Bombay.
Chris Pike, 21, the only living son of the late Episcopal bishop James A. Pike, attended three nights. Now an evangelical Christian, young Pike, who works in an Oakland warehouse, said he wanted “to identify with what God is doing.”
One of the questions most asked by the curious and the skeptical was, “Does it last? Are those who go forward really converted?” Giving his testimony one night was Rick Carreno, a former drug addict and Satan worshiper who gave his life to Christ at Graham’s Anaheim, California, crusade two years ago. Once a member of the Hell’s Angels, Carreno, who has been minister to youth at Modesto’s First Baptist Church this year, was a physical wreck when he stumbled onto the field to receive Christ after a four-day “trip” on drugs in a large, square garbage can behind an abandoned market.
Charles Joplin, who also went forward at Anaheim, recently was named evangelist at large for the Walnut Creek (California) Presbyterian Church. And several counselors and advisors on hand in Oakland had been won to Christ thirteen years before when Graham preached at his first, and only other, major crusade in the Bay area. The 1958 Cow Palace campaign in San Francisco lasted seven weeks.
Summing it all up was Jack Whitesell, pastor of San Francisco’s Bethel Temple and a veteran adviser to crusade counselors. He spoke of the “absolute superficiality” of some who ostensibly make decisions to accept Christ as Lord. “But,” he continued, “many others break out with radiant new life in Christ.”
It was undoubtedly that kind of Life Graham had in mind when he told the packed stadium night after night: “For many of you, this will be the most decisive hour of your life.”
Jesus Is ‘Right On’
More than 500 clergymen and seminarians crowded into conference rooms of the Edgewater Hyatt House opposite the Oakland Coliseum for five days last month during the Billy Graham Crusade School of Evangelism.
Speeches, workshops, and moments of self-examination dominated the sessions, as the conferees considered biblical and practical aspects of evangelism. Speakers included D. James Kennedy of the Coral Ridge Presbyterian Church, whose Fort Lauderdale congregation has exploded through his evangelism techniques; Graham associate evangelists John Wesley White and Howard O. Jones; and two success-oriented Houston, Texas, pastors, John Bisagno of the First Baptist Church and keynoter Charles Allen of the 10,000-member First Methodist Church.
No one at the school was more turned on than the Reverend Brian Heath, 21, a Roman Catholic priest who was ordained by the House of Prayer Mission and works with San Francisco young people. He had heard about the school of evangelism at a rally of Catholic charismatics at South Bend, Indiana (see July 16 issue, page 31).
After plugging into a personal-evangelism workshop taught by Texas evangelism expert Gil Stricklin, a Baptist and former information director for the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association, Heath decided to put theory into practice. Walking out of the hotel, he spotted two sailors and shared the tract, “Do You Know the Steps to Peace With God?”
“They both accepted Christ,” Heath exuberantly reported. “I give all the glory to Jesus; Jesus is right on!”
A Soul-Searching Award
Soul searching in earnest is about to get underway by the American Society for Psychical Research of New York City. The ASPR was awarded $297,000 by an Arizona court to conduct studies aimed at proving the existence of the human soul.
The decision marks the end of seven years of legal feuding over a handwritten will by copper miner James E. Kidd who specified that his money be spent on soul research (see November 10, 1967 issue, page 51). An earlier grantee, a Catholic neurological institute in Phoenix, was turned down by the Arizona State Supreme Court (see March 12, 1971, issue, page 43), which ordered the lower court to choose instead from among a field of four other organizations, including the ASPR.
A spokesman for the 2,100-member ASPR says the money will be used to hire more researchers and increase instrumental analysis to detect evidences of the “spatial separation of psychic events from the physical body,” such as determining electronically if “something” leaves the body at death.
The Cross-Bearers
The cross-bearers used to be a very select group: priests and nuns, sun-tanned lifeguards and surfers, little old ladies, Roman Catholics. But now the ranks of those who wear a cross on a chain are growing and include seminary students, Jesus people, hippies, combat infantrymen, high fashion followers, young straight Christians, and an increasing number of middle-aged, middle-of-the-road church-goers.
The reasons are as diverse as the people. In the world of haute couture, intricate metallic necklaces are in, and crosses provide a good basic design. On the level of street people, beads or symbols on a leather thong are part of the accepted garb.
One major reason for the popularity of necklaces with Christian symbols is the appearance of attractive, creative styles of crosses, ankhs, doves, icthus designs, and peace symbol-cross combinations.
While handcraftsmen have supplied the cultured and counter-cultured, the major manufacturers have been slow to develop new lines. Most continue to produce the simple gold crosses on chains, praying hands, medals, and objects that glow in the dark.
“The one field that has shown no imaginative concepts or design has been the religious-goods field,” states I. A. Serot, president of the Terra Sancta Guild, pointing to the advances achieved in other areas of manufacturing during the last twenty years.
Located in Philadelphia, Terra Sancta is one of the few manufacturing firms to produce creative styles in “holy hardware,” and the phenomenal response to its goods reveals the demand. Sales have risen rapidly in the six years since its founding.
Another large young company is James Avery, Craftsman, Incorporated, of Kerrville, Texas, which has shown an equally remarkable growth pattern, according to comptroller Michael Turner. Of all the symbols, the cross remains most in demand.
In a survey of several major, long established jewelry manufacturers and religious-jewelry manufacturers, no firm reported any significant increase in the sale of cross necklaces. When asked whether his firm was producing any new styles of crosses, a manufacturer for a large chain of stores reported no new varieties and no increase in sales, commenting, “A cross is a cross.”
It’s not that simple for those firms producing crosses in original contemporary art. To do this, Terra Sancta engages in historical research into the various forms of the cross, aiming for designs that are both beautiful and symbolic.
Serot explains the long neglect of religious jewelry by the manufacturers’ attitude toward their “captured market.” The companies assumed products would sell on their sentimental value alone.
“They just stamped out something and said, ‘Here’s a cross,’ ” Serot states, noting that the “secure” market has dwindled and the average department store has discontinued its religious-goods corner.
Terra Sancta’s pendants are bronze cast or die struck, with kiln-fired multi-color inlays, while Avery’s are sterling silver with three-dimensional designs ranging from simple to highly ornate. Other craftsmen use enameled copper, pewter, clay, or leather. Symbolic Christian key chains, tie clasps, tie tacks, lapel pins, rings, belt buckles, door knockers, and housewares are available also.
The demand for crosses and other pendants extends through all the denominations, according to the creative manufacturers. Avery reports Episcopalians as overall top buyers, while Baptists (who traditionally avoid symbolism) are the greatest buyers of products using the dove, symbol of the Holy Spirit.
Terra Sancta makes a point of deriving designs from the earliest Christian symbolism, so that the pendant cannot be identified with Catholics, Episcopalians, or any other group.
Serot sees the wearing of the same Christian symbols by people in all denominations as a sign of underlying unity: “People are in agreement, unbeknownst to one another.”
Whatever the larger significance, it’s a good sign that the cross can cross all lines.
ANNE EGGEBROTEN
Bengal: Tragedy Beyond Belief
For missionaries working with 4,000 East Pakistani refugees in a camp near Kishanganj, West Dinajpur, conditions have “improved.”
The missionaries had been treating Bengalis in huts, struggling through the squalor of the camp. But now the workers have a field hospital: a tin shed, thirty-six feet by seventeen feet with a cement floor and no walls. The “hospital’s” seven beds—two patients to each—look like bamboo tables.
“It’s still very crude and inadequate, but so much better,” reports one Free Will Baptist worker. “With the cement floor we could wash down the vomit and diarrhea instead of having to wade through it all day on the dirt floor.”
The cholera epidemic nightly kills ten or twelve people in the camp. The relief workers go to bed at one or two A.M. and rise at six or seven. This camp is a microcosm of the tragedy of incredible dimensions in Bengal.
“This is the largest disaster in the history of mankind,” states Dr. W. Stanley Mooneyham, president of World Vision. “There is nothing that can equal it in terms of numbers of people.”
The number of refugees has reached 8 million with as many as 50,000 more arriving each day. Estimates of those dead in military action range from 200,000 to one million; the toll from cholera and malnutrition is unknown.
World Vision supports work in Kishanganj, one of five projects with a total commitment of $93,000. The World Relief Commission sponsors work in the same area with a $7,500 grant and earlier sent $25,000 to help victims of last November’s tidal wave in East Pakistan. Both groups operate through agencies already in the field, such as the Free Will Baptists in the Kishanganj area.
The Salvation Army maintains a field hospital at Baraset near Calcutta with fourteen doctors and a fifty-bed capacity. North American Mennonites have given $100,000 for food and supplies and are seeking an additional $200,000 from members. Protestants in East Germany have donated $225,000. Other contributors include: the World Council of Churches, $775,200; the Lutheran World Federation, $718,000; and the Catholic Caritas Internationalis, $35,000.
Relief funds come not only from church groups. Beatles George Harrison (who once sought religious truth in India) and Ringo Starr, along with other rock musicians and Bengali sitarist Ravi Shankar, raised $250,000 in a benefit concert on August 1 at Madison Square Garden in New York.
The total commitment of all U. S. volunteer organizations is about $1.1 million. Among national governments, the United States with $73 million and the USSR with $11 million are the largest contributors.
Funds still are far from meeting the needs. The refugees are costing India an estimated $1 million per day in food alone, and the projected cost of medical aid, housing, clothing, and food for the next six months is $400 million.
The specter of a religious war further darkens the picture. Hindu India and Muslim Pakistan have been uneasy neighbors since their open warfare six years ago, and Pakistan now blames India for inciting and aiding the Bengali independence movement.
Muslim soldiers see the 10 million Hindu minority in East Pakistan as agents of India; to be uncircumcised, and thus not Muslim, means death. Hindus hoping to be spared by conversion are besieging Christian missionaries and Muslim ostas, according to an Associated Press report.
