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HERE at last is the full, authentic, 
stirring story of Billy Graham the dynamic 
evangelist whose amazing, international 
ministry has been called "The phenomenon 
of the mid-twentieth century." Though only 
thirty-eight years old, Billy Graham has 
probably preached, face to face, to more 
people than any spokesman for Christianity 
in all history: an estimated 20,000,000. 
Another 20,000,000 listen to his weekly 
radio program The Hour of Decision. More 
astounding still, under his ministry more 
than 1,000,000 persons have been converted 
and remain, a remarkable majority of them, 
devout and practicing Christians. 

Billy Graham is, first of all, the personal 
story of the man, of his teen-age beginnings 
as a preacher; of how today he draws and 
moves such vast audiences; of those, fore- TD:II V 
most among them Ruth Bell Graham, his D1U J 
wife, who play leading parts in his work. 

It is also the story, told dramatically and 
firsthand, of Billy Graham's Crusades: how 
they are prepared for, organized, financed 
and, even more dramatically, how in scores 
of cities across the United States, in Canada, 
Great Britain, Europe, and Asia, they put 
religion on the front page and make it the 
chief topic ofjnan-in-the-street conversa- 



Billy Graham 



The personal story 

of the man, 

his message, 

and his mission 

by Stanley High 



McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc. 
New York Toronto London 



BILLY GRAHAM 

Copyright 1956 by Stanley High, All rights in this book are 
reserved. It may not be used for dramatic, motion-, or talking 
picture purposes without written authorization from the holder 
of these rights. Nor may the book or parts thereof be repro- 
duced in any manner whatsoever without permission in writing, 
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical 
articles and reviews* For information, address the McGraw- 
Hill Book Company, Inc., Trade Department, 330 West 42d 
Street, New York 36 , New York. 

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 56-11952 



Published by the McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc. 
Printed in the United States of America 



For Tim 

whose gift 
is an 

understanding 
heart 



ACKNOWLEDGMENT 

It was on assignment as an editor of The Reader's Digest that 
I first met Billy Graham at his home in Montreal, North Caro- 
lina, in May, 1954. Over the two succeeding years, at home 
and abroad, my repeated contacts with him and my opportunity 
to observe, firsthand, his "Crusades" and their consequences 
were almost wholly due to similar Reader's Digest assignments 
and resulted in five articles which have appeared in that maga- 
zine. 

There are many to whom, for help in assembling the ma- 
terial for Billy Graham, I am indebted: to Ruth and Billy 
Graham for their wholehearted approval of and cooperation 
in this undertaking; to Mel Larson for his painstaking research; 
to members of the Billy Graham Team; to my associates, Doro- 
thy B. Gardner and Mary Allen Thompson. 

But my first and, by all odds, greatest indebtedness is to 
The Reader's Digest and to DeWitt Wallace, its editor. 

Stanley High 



Contents 



Introduction: The Great Succession 1 

1. What Manner of Man? 15 

2. How Can He Be So Sure? 33 

3. As One Having Authority 49 

4. Few Are Chosen 69 

5. A Long Way from Palatka 85 

6. Out of the South 101 

7. The Ruth Graham Story 117 

8. ". . . And Some, Evangelists" 133 

9. It Takes Money 151 

10. London: Revival Drama 169 

11. Europe and Asia: The Universal Hunger 187* 

12. Religion Reaches the Man in the Street 199 

13. Does It Last? 217 

14. What Becomes of the Converts? 233 

15. In the. Wake of the U.S. .Crusades 249 

< > .. - . < 

16. Revival in Our Time? 265 



Illustrations 



Following page 150 

The most recent portrait of Billy Graham 
A characteristic speaking stance 

In Toronto's Coliseum, the first few of nearly 700 per- 
sons making "decisions for Christ" 

Ruth and Billy Graham look over construction of their 
mountainside home 

Golf his favorite relaxation 

Billy Graham speaking in Trafalgar Square during his 
1954 Greater London Crusade 

A hundred thousand persons listen to Billy Graham in 
an improvised stadium in South India 

Billy Graham and family on his return from 1954 
Crusade in Europe 



Introduction: 

The great succession 



IF, AS IS POSSIBLE, the big story of mid-twentieth-century 
America turns out to be religion, then, on the human level, the 
big name in that story is likely to be Billy Graham. This, if it 
happens, will not be for statistical or intellectual reasons, but 
for others of greater moment. 

Statistically, the success of Billy Graham, important and 
impressive as it is, is only one among many indications that, 
by every quantitative measurement, religion in the United 
States is booming. By that measurementj[his ministry is an un- 
precedented phenomenon in an area where much seems, at 
present, to be unprecedented. ) 

Moreover, if it should happen again that religion stands in 
need of intellectual defenders as it did not many decades ago 
it is not likely that Billy Graham would be recruited or that, 
in such a cause, he would offer his services. This would not 
be because of what would be held to be his intellectual limi- 
tationswhich he would be among the first to admit, even to 
magnifyT A more important reason would be the fact that his 



entire ministry has been an expression of the conviction that 
for any generation and for all kinds and conditions of people, 
for Nicodemus quite as much as for the Samaritan Woman, the 
discovery of the reality of God is not chiefly an intellectual, 
but an empirical achievement. He is sure faith can be bolstered 
by reason as his own faith increasingly is. But with him, as 
with most, the vitality of that faith is a product less of argu- 
ment than of experience. He would say, as Martin Luther did, 
"To believe in God is to go down on your knees." \ 

In his relatively short ministry, Billy Graham has probably 
preached, face to face, to more people than any spokesman for 
the faith in all Christian history: by the end of 1955, no less 
than 20,000,000. It is probable, also, that more people, under 
his ministry, in his Crusades and through his radio and film 
ministries, have made "decisions for Christ": an estimated 
1,000,000. 

But, amazing as these figures are, I do not believe that his 
is likely to be the big name of this religious era chiefly for 
quantitative, but rather for qualitative reasons. The biggest 
difference his ministry may make is not of numbers, but of 
kind. He will never add significantly to theology's arguments 
for God, The more important possibility is that he may add 
significantly to the number of Christians who, beyond argu- 
ment, have found Him. From such a leaven there could be 
restored to the church something of its earlier zeal for making 
that kind of Christians and something of its one-time knowl- 
edge of how to go about it. 

Many churchmen honestly doubt and some will vehemently 
deny that any such consequences as these are w prospect from 
the ministry of Billy Graham. But one fact, I think, can be 
made clear even to Billy Graham's critics: the man and his 
ministry are in the revival-producing tradition. Moreover, the 
potential significance of his ministry can hardly be understood 
apart from some understanding of revivals and revivalists. 

It is a striking fact about revivals that, whenever they come* 



they are essentially so much the same. For one thing, they do 
not come by human calculation or planning. Neither is their 
coming predictable. What can be said about them and it can 
be said, I think, about all of them which have had great signifi- 
cance is that, as Dr. Alexander Whyte pointed out in the 
mid-nineteenth century, "There is a divine mystery about re- 
vivals. God's sovereignty is in them." 

Whether or not such a revival is now in the making and 
whether or not Billy Graham will be its instrument, it is also 
true that for every revival there is such a human instrument 
In his book, Wesley and His Century, Dr. W. H. Fitchett says, 
"A great revival is usually linked with a single commanding 
figure." In connection with almost every spiritual awakening, 
says Dr. Charles T. Cook, "it would seem to be God's purpose 
to choose a man who will sum up in himself the yearnings of 
his time a man divinely gifted and empowered to interpret 
to his own generation their deepest needs, and to declare the 
remedy." 

On the face of it, of course, the church should be the ade- 
quate instrument of revival and the minister its evangelist 
Whatever the place of religious need, some church with 
plant, personnel, and program is within at least physical 
reach of it. Whatever the kind of religious need, the church 
is committed and no less than once every seven days reaffirms 
the canons of its committiaent to a Gospel adequate to meet 
it. Further than that the basic doctrines the statements of 
faith of almost every Protestant denomination contain that 
same unqualified commitment. 

If the available resources, material and spiritual, of the 
church were being made adequately available, then revivals, 
as something stirred from without the church's normal opera- 
tions by someone outside its conventional ministry, would be 
save, perhaps, as a special exercise for the devout unneces- 
sary and unlikely. Revivals are a result of the fact that the 
available resources of the church are not being made ade- 

3 



quately available. An authentic revival is not artificially in- 
duced. Neither does it create its own fuel Its fuel is a wide- 
spread religious need: a need within reach of the church but 
which the church is not reaching. 

There is, I think, something heartening in this. If, left to 
themselves, people were no better than they are sometimes 
said to be, then it would follow that this falling off of the effec- 
tiveness of the institution aimed to inculcate and extend the 
faith would lead to an increase in the ease with which increas- 
ing numbers of people settled down well satisfied with an inade- 
quate faith or none at all. That, instead of such an increase of 
contentment in disbelief, there is an increase of the dissatisfac- 
tions from which revivals come indicates that, as nature abhors 
a vacuum, human natures seem to abhor a spiritual vacuum. 
'Thou has formed us for Thyself/' said St. Augustine, "and 
our souls are restless till they find rest in Thee." 

The revival which, in the early eighteenth century, swept 
through New England was begun by the preaching, from his 
rural pulpit in Northampton, Massachusetts, of Jonathan 
Edwards. No preaching, before or since, ever made Hell so 
hot or imminent. But Jonathan Edwards did not set out to 
contrive a revival. A revival ensued from his preaching be- 
cause, as the religious zeal of the earliest period began to be 
swallowed up in concern for the material upbuilding of the 
colonies, the church in New England had fallen into sterility, 
religion into "deadness." But it was this apparent unpropitious- 
ness of the times which for a revival made the times propitious. 

Later, the fires of evangelism caught on in New York and 
spread southward through the Colonies as far as Georgia in 
what has been called the Great Awakening. The foremost 
evangelist of the Great Awakening was George Whitefield. 
Its fuel was the same need: a need for a vital religion which 
the agencies and spokesmen for religion were not adequately 
supplying. 

It was the same in England. The church there was in league 

4 



with aristocracy and the new industrial rich, and almost totally 
unconcerned for the masses who were desperately poor. "Reli- 
gion seemed to be dying, if not already dead. It was an age 
of a confident and triumphant deism. Unbelief had seized all 
classes." 

Out of this came the Evangelical Revival the most signifi- 
cant religious upsurge in the modern history of the church. 
John Wesley was its evangelist. This was not because he set 
out to be, but because beneath the surface of so much disbeliev- 
ing there was a widespread yearning, a restlessness of soul, for 
something more satisfying than disbelief, which something 
Wesley himself came to possess and was empowered to trans- 
mit. 

Fifty years ago, Dr. Robertson Nicoll, famous British 
churchman, wrote in the British Weekly: "The Church can 
only live in the world by successive individual transferences 
from the natural to the spiritual kingdom, in other words, the 
Church is always dying, always being raised again. That is why 
we speak of revival Christianity. For it is by revivals of religion 
that the Church of God makes its most visible advance. When 
all things seem becalmed, when no breath stirs the air, when 
all worship seems to have ended but the worship of matter, 
then it is that the Spirit of God is poured upon the Church, 
then it is that the Christianity of the apostles and martyrs . . . 
keeps rising from the catacombs of oblivion." 

Therein is another particular in which, in their essentials, 
revivals are the same. The social and intellectual qualifications 
of great revivalists difler greatly. Their religious qualifications 
are essentially the same. Their manners of presenting the Gos- 
pel do not have much in common. The Gospel they present and 
the results they aim for have almost everything in common. 

Superficially, two men, each the great evangelist of his time, 
oould hardly have been less alike than John Wesley and, a 
century later, Dwight L. Moody. By family background and 
parsonage birth, Wesley belonged to the religious aristocracy, 



was raised a High Church Anglican, became an Oxford Don, 
carried a Greek Bible in his saddle bags and sprinkled Latin 
phrases through the pages of his famous Journal. 

Moody was a layman of the humblest rural American origin. 
His formal education ended when he was thirteen which, to 
the perennial delight of his critics, resulted in his lifelong dis- 
regard for some of the fine points of the English language. So 
meager was his formal religious training that, at seventeen, 
when asked to read to a group a passage from the Book of 
Daniel he confessed not knowing where to look whether in 
the Old or the New Testament. 

More important than these differences are the matters in 
which they were the same. Both before they became evangelists 
were in the church, one as a minister, the other as an active 
layman. Both found that the conventional requirements of the 
church did not suffice. Neither was satisfied with what he had. 
Both were looking for something more than the traditional 
minimum. Wesley, returning from a missionary journey to the 
New World, cried out, "I went to America to convert the Indi- 
ans; but Oh, who will convert me?" For Moody, though much 
younger at the time of hi$ conversion, the uncertainty of his 
Christian conviction was such that after he had attempted to 
testify publicly as to his faith, his pastor suggested, "in all kind- 
ness," that he could probably better serve the Lord in silence. 

Both found what they were looking for: Wesley at the meet- 
ing in Aldersgate Street in London; Moody in Boston, Massa- 
chusetts, in the back room of the shoestore where he was em- 
ployed and where his Sunday-school teacher, a devout layman, 
one day sought him out 

Wesley wrote in his Journal the familiar paragraph: 

"In the evening I went very unwillingly to a society in Alders- 
gate Street where one was reading Luther's preface to the 
Epistle to the Romans. About a quarter before nine, white 
he was describing the change which God works in tite heart 
through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt 



I did trust Christ, and Christ alone for my salvation; and an 
assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even 
mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death." 

That paragraph and particularly the phrase, "I felt my 
heart strangely warmed" became, for many evangelical gen- 
erations, descriptive of "the people called Methodist"; the ori- 
gin of their commonest supplication: for a <4 heart-wanning 
experience"; one reason why annual revivals were not only 
expected of Methodist preachers but prescribed by the Metho- 
dist Discipline; one explanation for the sometimes held-to-be- 
untoward Methodist enthusiasm, particularly the enthusiasm 
with which in less inhibited times and in their other-than- 
Gothic churches Methodists sang their rollicking Gospel hymns, 
one of the most Methodist of them, directly in the Aldersgate 
Street tradition, being: 

"Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine, 
Oh for a foretaste of Glory Divine." 

Moody's experience his conversion was no less conclu- 
sive than Wesley's and throughout his life the certainty did not 
diminish. Many years later he said, "Some day you will read 
in the papers that D. L. Moody of East Northfield is dead. 
Don't you believe a word of it. At that moment I shall be more 
alive than I am now ... I was born of the flesh in 1837. 1 
was born of the spirit in 1856. That which is born of the flesh 
may die. That which is born of the spirit will live forever." 

Of that day in 1 856 in Boston, he wxote: "I thought the old 
sun shone brighter than it ever had before. I thought it was 
just smiling upon me. As I walked upon Boston Common and 
heard the birds singing in the trees, I thought they were all sing- 
ing a song to me." 

This is much like the conversion testimony ,of Jonathan 
Edwards. "God's excellency, His wisdom, His purity and love 
seemed to appear in everything; in the sun, moon and stars; 
in the clouds and blue sky; in the grass, and flowers and trees, 

7 



in the water and all nature." Similarly, George Whitefield, after 
his conversion, found that "wherever he was he could not re- 
frain from singing Psalms." 

Thus like other great evangelists, Wesley and Moody dis- 
similar as they outwardly were received like credentials from 
a like experience and were thereby qualified to speak with the 
same revival-stirring authority, 

"Conversion" save for purposes of historical allusion is 
no longer a familiar word in many churches; a reflection, no 
doubt, of the fact that converting has become an unfamiliar 
practice. One of Wesley's church-approved biographers is so 
careful lest he run afoul of the prevailing mood that he intro- 
duced the Aldersgate Street story with this qualifying sentence: 
"Within a few days of each other, John and Charles Wesley 
passed through an experience which it is usual to describe as 
conversion." 

But whatever our reluctance to use the word or to risk the 
experience, two facts about it seem inescapable. The first is that 
every great Christian evangelist, in so far as his own testimony 
can be believed, had it. It came to St. Paul on the Damascus 
Road, to St. Augustine in his mother's garden in Milan, to St. 
Francis on a pilgrimage to Rome, to Erasmus during his trans- 
lation of the Gospels into Greek, to Jonathan Edwards while 
reading one day in the Scriptures, to George Whitefield during 
a protracted illness. 

The second fact is that for every great Christian evangel, this 
experience was by the record of what subsequently happened 
the turning point, religiously, from the mediocre to the pre- 
eminent, from the ordinary to the extraordinary, from the mod- 
estly to the historically effective. 

This introduces what is the most important of the likenesses 
between Wesley and Moody as well as with others of the 
revivalist tradition: the likeness of what they preached. 

Nowadays, the Bible as a more-than-human document has 
widely gone the way of conversion as a more-than-human ex- 
8 



perience. From fifty years of paring away, its status is less 
Source than sourcebook. To some who are pleased to call them- 
selves modern, treating the Bible as Source as something pos- 
sessing a potency which does not inhere in words is called 
"biblicism" or "bibliolatry." 

Of this alleged error both Wesley and Moody, like all the 
others in this succession, were guilty though the biographer 
quoted above is careful to point out that, in Wesley's case, an 
unqualified belief in the Bible was possible only because such 
belief was "never exposed to his critical faculty." 

Just as their confidence and dedication derived from reli- 
gious experience, so their authority derived from the Bible. 
Both, in the currently disparaging phrase, were "Bible-preach- 
ers." 

Wesley wrote: 

"I want to know one thing the way to Heaven; how to 
land safe on that happy shore. God Himself has condescended 
to teach the way: For this very end He came from Heaven. 
He hath written it down in a book. O give me that book. At 
any price, give me the book of God. I have it: Here is knowl- 
edge enough for me. Let me be 'homo unius librL' " 

Moody, too, was a man of one book. "His Bible got to be at 
his finger tips. Vivid appreciation of the facts of Scripture was 
the greatest source of his pulpit power." Many things in the 
Bible were difficult to understand, but "there was so much he 
could grasp: The power of sin, the redemptive power of the 
Gospel, the love of God." He once said, "Ministers will not fill 
their churches until they get back to preaching all the Bible." 

Billy Graham wishes that Moody had said what no doubt he 
believed, namely that "ministers will not fill their churches with 
dynamic Christians until they get back to preaching all the 
Bible." It is true that in America's present upsurge of religious 
interest many preachers preaching less than all the Bible have 
full churches. It is also evident that such preaching has not pro- 
duced from churches thus filled the evangelical stirrings which 

9 



are the herald of religious revival. The bread which increas- 
ing numbers of people seem to be seeking from the church too 
often proves, when they get there, to be a stone. 

The second fact about the preaching of great revivalists is 
that they preached a personal Gospel. It has been customary, 
of late, in discussing periods of religious awakening i.e., re- 
vival to treat them in terms of and to find their chief meaning 
in their collective consequences, their effect on the social and 
economic and international order. This, no doubt, is largely 
due to the ascendance of the so-called social Gospel and the 
tendency of its exponents to preach the evangelizing of the 
social order, not as a result of the evangelizing of the individual 
but as a substitute for it. 

It is, unfortunately, true that concern for the salvation of 
society does not, ipso facto, follow from concern for the salva- 
tion of the individual. Many of these churchmen, ministers and 
laity, who are most burdened by the presence of sin, when it is < 
on the individual level, are least aware of it on the collective and 
corporate level. As, for some, the social Gospel serves as com- 
pensation for their lack of a personal Gospel, so, for some of 
these, exclusive emphasis on a personal Gospel serves as insu- 
lation against the social, economic, and political implications 
of a social Gospel. What seems to be lacking in both cases is a 
whole Gospel. 

From the preaching of St. Paul, which planted in the Roman 
Empire a leaven that proved more powerful than Rome, to that 
of John Wesley, which aroused England's social conscience 
and, according to the historian Lecky, saved the nation from 
social disruption, to that of Dwight L. Moody, which gave the 
church in both Great Britain and America a more acute social 
concern, the socially transforming effects of every great revival 
movement have been unmistakable. They are, I think, a meas- 
ure of the authenticity of such a movement 

But it would be a mistake to conclude that revivals start 
with the social Gospel or that the saving of society has been, 
10 



for great evangelists, their first concern. In their wake, some 
things inevitably happen to society. But their starting point is 
people: not people in the collective, impersonal "they" sense, 
but people in the individual, personal "me" sense, 

The first revival meeting in Christian History began at Pente- 
cost. St. Peter was the preacher: 

"Repent ye, and be baptized, every one of you in the name 
of Jesus Christ unto the remission of your sins and ye shall 
receive the gift of the Holy Spirit." 

What began at Pentecost did turn the world upside down, 
thereby bringing it more nearly right side up. But the early 
Christians had no such externally revolutionizing purpose on 
their agenda. The message of the early Christians was not "re- 
form," but "Christ is risen." 

Troublesome though the Roman authorities regarded him, 
there is no definable subversion in the preaching of St. Paul; 
little to offend the devout reactionary, considerable to reassure 
him. The social consequences which began in the wake of St. 
Paul's preaching were not due to any society-improving pro- 
gram sponsored by the early Christian church. They were due 
to the fact that the early church was so largely comprised of 
Christians whose personal religious experience was too real and 
vital to be personally contained. It transformed them, not in a 
few, but in all their relationships. 

"If any man is in Christ," said St. Paul, "he is a new creature; 
old things are passed away; behold all things are become new." 

It was not only the paganisms of the flesh that passed away 
in this re-creation but, eventually, a whole pagan society. But 
the new creature of Paul's preaching was a person and the new- 
ness he preached "in Christ" was a personal experience. 

What John Wesley preached, says a church historian, "was 
no new message. It had most of its roots in the teachings of St. 
Paul and Luther. Men were sinners,, deserving condemnation 
and punishment. They might be saved by an act of faith in 
Christ. They might have an inner knowledge of such salvation, 

11 



leading to a joyful life. If they persisted in living right lives they 
might finally come so under the sway of right motives love of 
God and one's fellows that they could be said to have ob- 
tained perfection in Christian character. Inner religion would 
show itself in outreaching forms of service. This was the mes- 
sage that proved able to transform the lives of hundreds of 
thousands." 

This was the revival message of Dwight L. Moody. Like 
Wesley, he preached a Gospel of sin, repentance, and salva- 
tion. He preached it at a time when the church, "dying of 
respectability," had widely lost its evangelizing power. He 
preached it to change men's lives: completely and now. He 
had a single yardstick for his preaching: what transpired at 
the altar where he preached. Because of what did transpire 
there, "the population of Hell was reduced by a million souls." 

No great evangelist of Christian history has preached a dif- 
ferent Gospel; nor is there any record of a great revival from 
a different kind of preaching. 

That there is, at present, a shortage in the church of such 
preaching is no reason to doubt that a great revival may be in 
the making. Such a shortage and the spiritual undernourish- 
ment which is its consequence have always been the fuel for 
great revivals. 

Neither is the reluctance in some church circles to concede 
that Billy Graham stands in this reviving succession a necessar- 
ily valid reason to doubt that he may stand there. It may be 
reason to believe that he will since such reluctance, or worse, 
has been the lot of every great evangelist. 

Jonathan Edwards was berated for his revival preaching. 
The General Convention of Congregational Ministers in Mas- 
sachusetts published in 1743 a "Testimony" denouncing the 
revival which his preaching started. In America and England, 
George Whitefield was the object of "violent opposition." Both 
Harvard and Yale, then citadels of the faith, published "Testi- 
monies" against him and a meeting of clergy in Connecticut re- 
12 



solved that "it would by no means be advisable for any of our 
ministers to admit him into their pulpits or for any of our people 
to attend his ministrations." 

The opposition to John Wesley was more violent center- 
ing, in considerable part, on what was described as the "enthusi- 
asm" "emotionalism" would be the current word for it 
stirred in his meetings. Dwight L. Moody, in his day, was put 
down as "a ranter of the most vulgar type." 

All of which points up the fact already evident in the min- 
istry of Billy Graham that what a great evangelist helps to 
bring to pass among the clergy and lay leadership of the 
churches may be fully as significant as his ministry to the more 
recognizably unsaved. 

Unless there is substantial evidence that he does stand in 
the succession of great evangelists and that his ministry does 
hold a promise such as was fulfilled in theirs, there would be 
no adequate reason at this stage in his career to write, at length, 
the story of Billy Graham. But I do not believe that any ob- 
server whose prejudices were not insurmountable could make 
a close-up, protracted study of the man and his ministry and 
fail to find such substantial evidence. 

For many months, in America and abroad, I have made such 
a study. The result is the conviction that the ministry of Billy 
Graham gives substance to the hope that the present unparal- 
leled turn to religion can be turned to authentic religious ac- 
count; that out of this reviving religious interest there may 
come an awakening which will merit the name because by the 
standards of Christian history it is, in fact, a revival of religion. 

That conviction is the reason for this book. 



13 



1: What manner of man? 



REPORTING ON Billy Graham's All-Scotland Crusade in the 
Kelvin Hall, Glasgow, in the spring of 1955, a distinguished 
British commentator wrote: 

"What is happening in Kelvin Hall is very mysterious to ine." 

After many months of inquiry, at home and abroad, there 
remains, for me, something mysterious, not only about Billy 
Graham's meetings, but about Billy Graham, The facts about 
Billy Graham add up to an extraordinary story. But they do not 
add up to an explanation of Billy Graham. They are not as 
extf aordinary as that 

Neither (lid the facts, extraordinary as they were, about 
George Whitefield, John Wesley, or Dwight L. Moody add up 
to an explanation of what transpired from their preaching. 
There was an additional something which could not be ex- 
plained any more than it could be escaped. 

"I believe," said the writer quoted above, "that within this 
mystery is the redeeming energy of the Holy Spirit." 

No doubt there are more popularly acceptable words for it. 
But I think I know what that writer meant. As my own fund 
of information aimed to explain the Billy Graham phenome- 
nal has increased, so has my conviction that the ultimate expla- 

15 



nation will have to be found in some Power which, however 
real it may be, is beyond the reach of ordinary journalistic 
probing. 

I once heard a newspaper reporter ask Billy Graham: "How 
do you explain your success?" 

"The only explanation I know is God." 

"But why/' asked the reporter, "did God choose you?" 

'When I get to Heaven," said Billy Graham, "that's the first 
question I am going to ask Him." 

Whitefield, Wesley, and Moody, on their arrival in Heaven, 
may have asked the same question. What, on the earthly level, 
appears more important is the fact that, as human calculations 
go, they seemed abundantly to justify the choice. Whatever 
answer Billy Graham gets as to why God chose him, there are 
certain facts, within the range of terrestrial reporting, which 
seem to justify his choice. And whatever, ultimately, God has 
chosen him for, there is no mystery about Billy Graham's de- 
termination to live, now, in such a way as to prove that that 
choice, too, has been justified. 

There is a sense in which, as the political saying goes, Billy 
Graham "runs scared." He does not take the visible signs of 
his success as evidence that as God sees it he has necessarily 
succeeded. On the contrary, the more convincing these visible 
signs of success seem to be, the harder he seems to work to 
ward off what in God's appraisal might be counted failure. 
The fear he lives with is not that, outwardly, he may fail but 
that, inwardly, he may fail the Almighty. 

Against this fear he goes armed with Paul's statement in 
I Corinthians 9:27: "But I keep under my body and bring it 
into subjection: lest that by any means, when I have preached 
':o others, I myself should be a castaway." 

"Billy Graham is not remarkable for his gifts," says the edi- 
tor of the Church of Scotland magazine, Life and Work. "He 
is remarkable for what he is making of God's gift." 

Billy Graham would agree with that estimate of bis gifts. But 
16 



he would say that what he may be making of God's gift i 
wholly God's doing and that only God can continue to do it 

"No one," he says, "ever called me a great preacher. There 
are thousands of better ones. I'm no great intellectual. The 
Bible has been my Harvard and Yale. If God should take His 
hands off my life my lips would turn to clay." 

He might not, he says, know the exact time. Everything, out- 
wardly, might seem the same. Momentum would probably 
carry him along for a while. But that would run out and when 
it did, what remained would be "ashes." 

For an awesome case history of how this has happened and 
might happen to him, he goes back to the story of Samson. 
Samson, he says, was used "mightily" of the Lord. Time after 
time he went up against the Philistines and "smote them hip 
and thigh." Then he sinned against the Lord, and Delilah 
"caused his locks to be shaved" while he slept "And his 
strength went from him." When he awoke, however, every- 
thing seemed the same. He was as tall as ever. His muscles 
were as thick as ever. He said, "I will go out as at other times 
before, and shake myself. And he wist not that the Lord was 
departed from him." 

"That," says Billy Graham, "could happen to me." 

To a group of us, team members and friends, sitting early 
one evening in his room before going out to a Crusade meeting, 
he suddenly said, "I've been asking myself, sitting here: 'Bifly 
Graham, are you filled with the Holy Spirit?* My only claim to 
power is the Holy Spirit. Without that, whatever I do is of the 
energy of the flesh and will be burned up before the judgment 
seat of Christ. I don't care how big the crowds are and how 
big the reported results are; it's all 'sounding brass and tinkling 
cymbal' unless I am filled with the Holy Spirit." 

"One of Billy Graham's drawbacks," a newspaper reporter 
once wrote, "is his appearance* Tall, handsome, athletic, he 
has all the physical attributes and charm of a potential film star 

17 



glamour l?oy in fact. The question is at once asked: 'Is he 
genuine?' "/' 

To those to whom a- "glamorous" appearance may be reli- 
giously suspect, it is, I suppose, a drawback that Billy Graham, 
instead of being notably short and thin as John Wesley was 
(five feet four inches 125 pounds) or bearded, short, and 
corpulent as Dwight L. Moody was or shiny-bald as Billy 
Sunday was, is tall, trim, and with a head of wavy hair so thick 
he frequently has to have it thinned as well as cut. At least 
a shorter, fatter, balder Billy Graham would have been spared 
only, no doubt, to have suffered from worse some of the 
descriptions his appearance has given rise to, among them: 
Gabriel in Gabardine, Barrymore of the Bible, Hollywood John 
the Baptist, Matinee Idol Revivalist. 

Billy Graham, shoes off, stands six feet two. Beginning at 
the time of his 1956 mission to India, he has regularly followed 
a rigorous regime of daily exercise. But he is no **young giant" 
with "muscles rippling under the gabardine." He is a lanky 180 
pounds; subject to an occasional stomach upset, and, under 
tension, to insomnia. In every long Crusade he loses from 10 
to 15 pounds, which reduces him to the point of gauntness. 
His hands are long and narrow; his face thin; his hair a sun- 
burned blond; his eyes blue, deep-set and, as a script writer 
would put it, "piercing," not the kind of eyes given easily to 
tears. 

Sitting, he likes to slouch, legs stretched in front of him. On 
a straightaway, he walks with a spring which you are sure 
trying to keep up will break any minute into a lope. He shakes 
hands vigorously without any muscle-moving technique. His 
speech comes within the category of a Southern drawl but not 
the slow, dragged-out you-all drawl of the Deep South. 

Once at a luncheon where Billy Graham spoke I sat at the 
same table with a woman who is internationally known pro 

and con as a professional party-thrower. After an, address 
18 



that stirred a vast audience, her comment was: "He is so elo- 
quent and so handsome. Isn't it a shame that he isn't in poli- 
tics?" 

To which I heard Ruth Graham reply: "Maybe the Lord 
thought politics had its share and decided to give the ministry 
a break." 

Though, as in the case of the reporter quoted above, Billy 
Graham's good looks may give rise to the question "Is he 
genuine?" there is remarkable agreement with the answer 
which that reporter found: "I have never heard anyone doubt 
his integrity." 

Philip Santora, in the first of four striking articles in the New 
York Daily News about Billy Graham and his ministry, wrote, 
in 1954: "Millions of persons want to know if Billy Graham is 
sincere, if he's as dedicated to the Cause as he seems. They 
wonder if he isn't taking advantage of a situation to make him- 
self a million dollars on the side while he preaches humility 
and abject surrender to Christ. . . . 

"To understand Billy Graham you should spend a great deal 
of time with him, examine him under a magnifying glass, then 
step away from him for a few days so that he can be reexamined 
coldly and logically. . . . 

"After all this you reach the conclusion that this young man 
who has had such influence on the more than 13,000,000 per- 
sons who have gone to hear him is exactly as he purports to be: 
a dedicated person who believes in what he is teaching, whose 
aim in life is to harvest as many souls as possible. . . .** 

Few religious leaders have more freely invited critical scru- 
tiny than Billy Graham, and probably none has ever had more 
of it. Only a man whose life actually is as he often says his must 
be "an open book" could have survived it with his reputa- 
tion intact. Only a near-totally honest person would invite such 
total exposure. 

Once, a number of years ago, when his fame was not so 
great or his crowds so large, he, with his associate evangelist, 

19 



Grady Wilson, was conducting a meeting in a middle-sized 
Southern city. A veteran revivalist, an old friend, attended 
their meetings and imparted "a word of advice from an old 
hand." 

"You are telling the newspapers," he said, "the exact size of 
your audiences. That won't do. The bigger the crowds people 
think you are getting, the bigger the crowds you will get. If you 
think you've got 2,000, raise it to 3,000 for the papers. There's 
nothing really wrong about that. Everybody does it." 

"I've seldom seen Billy so startled and shocked," says Grady 
Wilson. "He was speechless. He turned to me when the old man 
had left. 'Grady,' he said, 'God being my helper, I'll be honest 
all the way through or this isn't God's business and I'll get out 
of it.'" 

Today, newspapermen are often startled when Jerry Beavan, 
the public relations member of the Billy Graham team, goes to 
considerable pains to grade down to the exact figure the fre- 
quent overestimate of the size of Billy Graham's crowds or the 
number who have made "decisions for Christ." 

Wherever he goes nowadays, the newspapermen notebooks 
and cameras in hand are there. Most of them are responsible, 
but all of them are on the lookout. I have seen him baited, 
jabbed, and pried at by the most cunning and unscrupulous 
reporters of the Western world's most irresponsible press. They 
invariably get some things they do not particularly like and 
some things they certainly do not understand, but of dissimula- 
tion, evasion, or cover-up which would really make their 
mouths water what they invariably get is zero. Many of them, 
too, go away mumbling reluctant tribute to his sincerity. And 
though, his job being what it is, he had to give a derogatory 
twist, even the columnist of the Communist New York Daily 
Worker could not quite escape mentioning it: "He speaks with 
an arrogant humility which is terrifying." 

Few Americans were ever so hounded by so hostile a press 
as Billy Graham when he arrived in England on the eve of 
20 



the Greater London Crusade early in 1954. The almost com- 
plete turnabout which, within a few weeks, came to pass was 
not due to his eloquence or the crowds he drew or any other 
public aspect of his ministry. It was chiefly due to the straight- 
forwardness with which he withstood personal inspection. 

"After we'd watched him for a while like hawks," one Lon- 
don reporter said, "we finally had to admit that when it came 
to honesty he lived up to the advance notices." 

A correspondent for the Manchester Guardian wrote: "Mr. 
Graham has been a great personal success. He has impressed 
a wide range of people, from the Archbishop of Canterbury to 
those perspicacious evangelists who run the Daily Mirror by 
his sincerity and humility. I, myself, supping with him in a party 
of four, found him one of the most likeable people I have ever 
met. He has a holy simplicity. . . ." 

There is, however, something more to Billy Graham's sincer- 
ity than the fact, important as it is, that it has survived such 
scrutiny. There seems to be, even among his critics, something 
that amounts almost to a compulsion to mention that, however 
low he may otherwise be rated, he is sincere. In fact, adverse 
comments almost always start with something like this: "Of 
course I don't doubt his sincerity, but. . . ." 

Here are a few recently published illustrations of what I 
mean: 

"I am not doubting Billy Graham's sincerity," but "with hfm, 
religion is a show." "He did not strike me as in any way insin- 
cere," but "he preached the same old Bible-thumping stuff." 
"I am sure he believes what he says," but "his theology is in- 
credible." "The press commentators were not much impressed," 
but "they have all acknowledged his sincerity." "We still don't 
know what it is he's got," but "we're sure by now that he's the 
real thing." 

There is an explanation for this which, I think, will be ques- 
tioned only by those whose contact with Billy Graham has been 
very limited. Experienced observers who are accustomed to 

21 



appraise, if only for precautionary purposes, the sincerity of 
public figures, but who seldom, thereafter, may mention it, in- 
variably mention the sincerity of Billy Graham because, with 
him, it is not a passive, but an active characteristic. It is not 
negative: something which is true merely because, having 
passed the insincerity test, it is found not to be untrue. It is 
something positive: one of the things about the man which, 
like the loud neckties he once preferred, but, growing in dig- 
nity, no longer wears, cannot be missed and cries out to be 
mentioned. 

The British newspaper Truth called it "dynamic sincerity." 
"Blazingly sincere," said Beverly Nichols in the London Sun- 
day Chronicle. 

The London Spectator said: 'That is something the sin- 
cerity of one dedicated Christian witness made manifest to over 
a million people." 

I am sure that Billy Graham's temptations run the usual 
human gamut. But the one he confesses he wrestles with most 
vigorously is pride. He gets an earthy assist in this from Grady 
Wilson who, in addition to being his associate evangelist, is 
his oldest and closest friend. Against the threat of pride, Wilson, 
the practical joker of the team, often serves, for Billy Graham, 
something of the same purpose once served by those lackeys 
whose function it was to run, ringing a small bell, behind the 
chariots of Rome's conquering heroes to remind them they were 
human. "If the Lord will keep him anointed," says Wilson, "111 
keep him humble." 

But Billy Graham does not leave this temptation to any such 
uncertain ministry. He wrestles with it by prayer and by Scrip- 
ture. In fact there are three passages of Scripture any one or all 
three of which but particularly the last one he is likely to 
quote whenever his "successes" are seriously discussed: "Pride 
goeth before destruction"; "A man's pride shall bring him low"; 
"I am the Lord; that is my name; and my glory will I not give 
to another." 
22 



It is not for the music hie is not notably musical but be- 
cause it expresses his own sense of dependence that the theme 
song for every Billy Graham Crusade is "To God Be the Glory, 
Great Things He Hath Done." It is the pervasiveness of that 
same feeling which explains why, among the articulately devout, 
especially ministers, the phrase "To God Be the Glory" comes 
to rank in his meetings as an expression of reverent enthusiasm, 
along with such words as "Amen" and "Praise the Lord.** And 
it is for the same reason that Cliff Barrows, Billy Graham's song 
leader, always concludes whatever foreword he writes for each 
Crusade songbook with this verse from the Ninety-eighth 
Psalm: 

"O sing unto the Lord a new song: for He hath done marvel- 
ous things; His right hand and His holy arm, hath gotten Him 
the victory." 

From Boston he wrote of the signs of religious awakening 
and the size of the opportunity too large for any one man to 

encompass: "The Hotel had to put on an extra operator 

to handle the long-distance calls for me personally. It is almost 
unbelievable. It's fantastic. The opportunity is beyond anything 
I had ever dreamed. The average Christian leader across Amer- 
ica does not realize the open doors at this moment. My constant 
prayer is that God will raise up other evangelists to whom these 
doors will be opened. The harvest indeed is plenteous but the 
laborers are few." 

I have seen newspaper reporters snicker and then, after 
longer contact, concede that he means it when BiHy Graham 
says something like this, as he frequently does: "Every time 
I see my name up in lights, every time I am patted on the back, 
it makes me sick at heart, for God said He will share His glory 
with no man. So if you want to stop my ministry, pat me on 
the back." 

After the opening meeting of one of his Crusades, he wrote 
to Rptji, Ms wife: The television lights were beaming right in 
our faces. The television and newsreel cameras were whirring, 

23 



and I wondered as I walked up the stairs how much of this was 
of the flesh and how much of the Spirit. I will be so glad when 
the press gets all of its stories written and the publicity dies 
down so that we can get on with the message." 

On the eve of the Greater London Crusade he said, "I have 
one fear and that is that you may be looking to a man to bring 
revival. No man can do that, only the Holy Spirit of God. We 
are here to glorify the Lord Jesus Christ." 

On the eve of the All-Scotland Crusade, he said, "Much has 
been said about a man. But the thing that matters is the mes- 
sage. The important thing is that we do not become so absorbed 
in a human instrument that we fail to get the message God is 
sending us. At the outset, I must openly and completely trans- 
fer any glory and honor that may have been given me over to 
Jesus Christ, to Whom belongs all praise and glory." 

In Glasgow's Hampden Park, before 100,000 people the 
largest congregation ever gathered in the history of Scotland 
he said, in the concluding message of the All-Scotland Crusade: 

"This is a sight we will remember all through our lives and 
talk about all through eternity. It is Christ who has been lifted 
up these weeks in Scotland and not Billy Graham. Our name, 
we trust, will now be heard less and less and His name, which 
is above every name, more and more. 

"And I want to tell you that there have been thousands of 
unsung heroes in this Crusade praying and working men and 
women whose names never got into the press. But I am sure 
if there are newspapers in Heaven, it's their names and not mine 
youTl find on the front page." 

Early in 1955, before a distinguished gathering at Valley 
Forge, Pennsylvania, Freedom's Foundation gave Billy Graham 
a special national award: "In the ebb and flow of human life, 
few men in recorded history have so captured the spiritual in- 
terest of the multitudes. ..." His reply was: "I accept this 
award only temporarily. Someday I shall hand it to the Person 
Who is responsible for all our activities: the Lord Jesus Christ." 

24 



Of the luncheon that followed the ceremonies that day, he 
wrote: "I had the privilege of sitting at the table with Secretary 
of Defense Wilson. Another person at our table was Dr. Kirk, 
the president of Columbia University. It was very interesting to 
hear these men talk. They are great men and I came away with 
a profound respect for both of them. I tried to put in my two 
cents' worth on spiritual things from time to time. They seemed 
interested." 

"A great speech/' someone said after he had addressed a 
gathering of laymen in New York City. "I didn't want it to be 
'great,' " he wrote in his diary, "only Christ-glorifying." Then 
he wrote out in full, as if to underscore that single-mindedness, 
the first two verses of the second chapter of Paul's first letter 
to the Corinthians: 

"And I, brethren, when I came to you, came not with excel- 
lency of speech or of wisdom, declaring unto you the testimony 
of God. For I determined not to know anything among you, 
save Jesus Christ and Him crucified." 

Late in 1952 Billy Graham made a speaking tour of the war 
front in Korea and of American military posts in Japan. While 
in Tokyo en route to Korea, he spoke one night to 750 Chris- 
tian missionaries of all denominations said to have been the 
largest gathering of missionaries not only in Japan but on any 
mission field. After his address that night he wrote: 

"That evening was a memorable one in my life. Never have 
I felt less worthy to stand before an audience. These are the true 
warriors of the Cross. These men and women have left their 
homes and loved ones to battle on the front lines of Gospel 
endeavor. I was anxious that I glorify none save Christ, and 
I cried to God for a message. 

"It was my privilege to speak for well over an hour. We wept 
together; we laughed together; we prayed together, and to- 
gether we were challenged by the Holy Spirit. When it was over, 
I knew that God had begun to speak to my heart, $nd that I 
could never be the same again after that evening." 

25 



"There is one doubt I have," he told me when we first dis- 
cussed this book. "I know there has to be a lot of Billy Graham 
in it. But do you thinV you can write about me so as to write 
past me, so that the people who read it will see past me and 
be drawn, not to Billy Graham, but to the God Billy Graham 
tries to serve?" 

I have observed Billy Graham in large gatherings, small 
gatherings, and alone in a good many places and under a good 
many different conditions: on a holiday in Florida and one in 
Scotland, fishing, on the golf course, driving across country, in 
his home, at all kinds of eating places, in hotel rooms that were 
good and not so good, before and behind the scenes in several 
Crusades. 

Though I hope it is to my credit as a journalist that I have 
tried, I have never yet found him in his zeal for things of the 
spirit in an off season. He seems, on occasion, to shake off 
some of the almost unbelievable pressures that bear down on 
him. At least he wears the garments of relaxation and, with 
every evidence of enjoyment, does the things relaxed people 
are supposed to do. Spiritually, however, he lives under a per- 
petual alert. That pressure appears to be congenital. 

It has been so with every great evangelist. To his friend 
Benjamin Franklin, George Whitefield once wrote: "I find that 
you grow more and more famous in the learned world. As you 
have made pretty considerable progress in the mysteries of 
electricity I would now humbly recommend to you diligent and 
unprejudiced pursuit and study of the mysteries of the New 
Birth. It is a most important and interesting study and when 
magtered will richly answer and repay all your pains you will 
excuse this freedom. I must have aliquid Christo [something 
of Christ] in all my letters." 

After listening one morning while Billy Graham effortlessly 

turned a visit to the office of a prominent American newspaper 

publisher into a discussion of personal religion, I asked 

26 



how he explained the ease with which he uses almost every 
occasion as an opportunity "to bear witness" for Christ. 

"Don't you think," he said, "if I had known President Eisen- 
hower intimately, for a long time, it would be the most natural 
thing in the world to talk about him. Well, I know Jesus Christ 
far better than I will ever know the President or any other 
human being. To me, above all earthly rulers, He is King of 
Kings and Lord of Lords. How can I help talking about Him? 

"Moreover, I have a duty to talk about Him. They tell me 
the American Embassy in Moscow was formerly near Red 
Square and that the rulers of Red Russia, looking out from the 
Kremlin, could see the U.S. flag flying from our Embassy staff 
every day. But suppose our Ambassador said, I don't want to 
wear my patriotism on my sleeve; it might offend the Russians' 
and took down the flag. Don't you think the President would 
recall such an Ambassador for having betrayed his trust? 

"I can't forget that the Apostle Paul said, 'Now, then, we 
are Ambassadors for Christ' " 

He once told an old friend, "I meet so many people and yet 
I reach so few of them. Too often, I leave a person and before 
I have gone ten steps I say, 'O God, I left him nothing. I joked 
with him, chatted with him, told him my latest story, but O 
God, forgive me, I didn't tell him what You gave me today 
in my early morning devotions.' " 

Billy Graham flies his flag in some unusual places. One eve- 
ning, with his wife and several members of the team, he was 
my guest in Paris at one of Europe's oldest and most famous 
restaurants, I doubt if, in its 200 years, such a thing had ever 
happened there before, but, before we ordered our meal, and 
while two bedecked and astonished waiters stood by, he asked, 
"Do you mind if we say grace?" His quietly spoken grace was: 
"O God we thanV Thee for this good fellowship in this beauti- 
ful place. Amen," 

After a press conference aboard the Libert^ in New York 
harbor he wrote in his diary: "Fifty reporters were there and 

27 



newsreel cameramen. I gave them a talk. I tried to give them 
enough of the Gospel so that any one of these reporters could 
have been converted right there." 

Describing the drive from Plymouth to London, he wrote 
to Ruth, his wife: "We stopped for lunch at Bournemouth. 
... A delicious meal. Several people recognized us in the 
restaurant and when I went into the rest room a man followed 
me in there, saying he needed God. It was a joy to pray with 
him and give him some of the Gospel and get his promise that 
he would be at our Wembley meeting and also listen over the 
relay system. . . ." 

From Glasgow he wrote to Ruth: "Every move we make 
people are staring at us or taking pictures or asking for auto- 
graphs. I don't like it. But an autograph is really so little one 
can do. However, when I give an autograph, I always try to 
leave a little word of witness behind and make them promise 
they will go to church next Sunday." 

In Glasgow, two businessmen gave a luncheon in his honor 
for some 300 leaders of Scotland's business and industrial com- 
munity. He wrote: "I have decided in businessmen's luncheons 
to go all out for the Gospel. I am not going to give a talk on 
world events or give them sweet little lullabies. Today, the Lord 
wonderfully blessed and gave great liberty in the speaking." 

In mid-May, 1955, during his seven-day series of meetings 
at London's Wembley Stadium, Billy and Ruth Graham were 
invited to have tea at Clarence House with Queen Mother 
Elizabeth and Princess Margaret. He wrote in his diary: "Ruth 
and I were with them exactly forty-two minutes. Our entire 
conversation revolved around spiritual matters. As we sat 
there, they put us right at ease and I lost all fear and began 
to talk freely concerning the Gospel. It was a privilege to out- 
line to them God's plan of salvation." 

One Sunday morning in the spring of 1955 he preached at 
the National Presbyterian Church in Washington, D.C. The 
President of the United States and Mrs. Eisenhower, many 
28 



members of the Cabinet, the U.S. House of Representatives, 
and the Senate were in the overflowing audience. 

"Strange to say," he wrote, "all nervousness and fear had 
left me. I felt perfectly calm and confident I felt the Spirit of 
God in my heart and I knew He had given nie a message for 
that hour. 

"During the entire service I did not see the President once, 
though I knew where he was sitting. In fact, I forgot all about 
the fact that he was in the audience, I preached the Gospel as 
straight and as clearly as I have ever preached it. I felt that 
there was power and authority in the message. As soon as I 
was through, I gave thanks to God for the power He had 
given." 

Billy Graham's urge to turn every situation to God's account 
is something which extends to and encompasses his critics. 

"I am not going to answer mud-slinging with mud-slinging," 
he wrote to Ruth after a series of particularly vicious attacks. 
"I am going to take the position of Nehemiah who refused to 
take time out for his enemies, saying, instead, 1 am too busy 
building the wall.' We are too busy trying to win souls to Christ 
and helping to build the church. . . ." 

Many of his critics, he once wrote to me, "remind me of the 
verses in Luke 9: And John answered and said, Master, we 
saw one casting out devils in thy name; and we forbade him, 
because he followeth not with us. And Jesus said unto him, 
Forbid him not; for he that is not against us is for us. 

"What we need today is more love and less bickering, strife, 
and fighting. It is said that one day Lord Nelson came upon 
two of his men fighting on the deck of his ship. He stopped 
and said, 'Gentlemen, there is your foe,' and he pointed to the 
enemy's ships on the horizon. The enemy we face is material- 
ism, sin, social injustice. Why should we be fighting each 
other?" 

During one of his Crusades, someone brought him a report 
of a series of articles by an extreme U.S. fundamentalist, charg- 

29 



ing that, by having fellowship with churchmen of different 
theologies, he was betraying "the faith once delivered to the 
saints." This report stirred him deeply and aroused in him such 
resentment that he found himself unable to carry on his prepa- 
ration for that night's sermon. Finally, he went to his room, 
locked himself in, and an hour later appeared and dictated a 
letter to the author of the attacks in which he told how he had 
felt and what he did about it: "I got on my knees and asked 
God to give me love in my heart. I had the greatest peace flood 
my soul and the Holy Spirit seemed to flood my heart with a 
peculiar love for you. Beloved friend, if you feel led of the 
Spirit of God to continue your attacks upon me, rest assured 
that I shall not answer back ... I shall hold my peace. My 
objective is to glorify our Lord Jesus Christ by the preaching 
of His Word to sinners. He has seen fit in a small measure to 
honor the ministry of His Word through me. I am totally un- 
worthy of this little service the Master has assigned me. If, by 
being attacked by friend or foe, it can be used to advance His 
Kingdom and glorify His name, I gladly offer myself and re- 
joice that I have been counted worthy to suffer in His name. 

99 

These facts about Billy Graham his contagious sincerity, 
his humility, his commitment, his constant unequivocal wit- 
nessing do not explain Billy Graham. They bring us back, 
rather, to the conclusion with which this chapter began: that, 
in explaining him, something more than facts the kinds of 
facts, at least, with which journalists are accustomed to deal 
is involved. For me, at any rate after prolonged and close-up 
observation there is no other conclusion. Others have reached 
the same conclusion. 

Coming away from an interview, an Atlanta newspaperman 
wrote: "Sitting at ease in a nearby chair, he looks like any 
successful businessman who likes a splash of color in his cloth- 
ing. His manner is cordial, his flow of language fluent, his atti- 
tude gracious. Yet, somehow, there is a difference which you 
30 



don't fully grasp until you are on the elevator descending to the 
street. That's it ... a glow. It surrounds him and is of him. 
And maybe that explains why during the conversation between 
you two, you had the unmistakable feeling that there were three 
persons in the room." 

It has been said that the greatest single religious meeting 
ever held in New England was the day, in the spring of 1950, 
when in a pouring rain, Billy Graham spoke on Boston Com- 
mon. Grady Wilson, all that morning, had tried to persuade 
him, in the face of the downpour, to call off the meeting alto- 
gether. 

<f lt won't do anybody any good, getting soaked," said Wil- 
son. "Besides, nobody will come, and if they do they won't 
stay." 

Billy Graham was adamant. "The Lord's going to be there," 
he said, "and so am I." 

Those who came and stayed that day numbered 50,000 
people. A newspaper reporter summed it up: "Some people 
may go to hear Billy Graham out of curiosity. But 50,000 do 
not stand in the rain to see any man. Those people were drawn 
by the power of God." 

"The only power Billy Graham has more of," says a promi- 
nent Scottish minister, "is the power of God. Nothing less could 
turn the vast, often ugly halls where he preaches into a sanctu- 
ary or make his unlikely texts come so alive or give his unelo- 
quent preaching such force and meaning for so many people." 

The editor of the Church of Scotland magazine, Life and 
Work, has written: 'The spirit of God was speaking through 
him; using him, by-passing him, turning even his mistakes to 
account, all the time reminding him that this was not his doing, 
but God's." 

'There are many things that Billy Graham is not," says a 
writer in the Christian Century. 'There is one thing that he 
is a man of God. Plainly he is being used as a channel of 
communication. There is no other explanation." 

31 



The Moderator of the United Free Church of Scotland has 
told this story: "A minister was asked recently: 'Does Dr. Billy 
Graham have something which the average minister does not 
possess? 5 

"The reply given was: *No! I do not think he has. The suc- 
cess of his campaign is due to the fact that every two or three 
generations God lays His hand on some man, and He has laid 
His hand on this man Billy Graham.' " 

Of Joshua it is said: "On that day the Lord magnified Joshua 
in the sight of all Israel." Considerable as his abilities are, Billy 
Graham is not a self-made man. A greater power has reached 
down to this North Carolina farm boy and magnified him. It 
is too soon to estimate all that may accrue to our age as a con- 
sequence of that choice. But I can say with certainty that he 
lives as though he knew that, every day, the choice was being 
reviewed by the Almighty. 

Living that way has produced in him the kind of personal 
conviction which, better than his eloquence, speaks for the faith 
he publicly proclaims. He sums it up in the concluding sen- 
tences of his book, Peace with God: 

"What a prospect! What a future! What a hope! What a life! 
I would not change places with the wealthiest and most influ- 
ential man in the world. I would rather be a child of the King, 
a joint-heir with Christ, a member of the Royal Family of 
Heaven. 

"I know where I've come from, I know why I'm here, I know 
where I'm going and I have peace in my heart. His peace 
floods my heart and overwhelms my soul." 



32 



2: How can he be so sure? 



SOMEONE ONCE WROTE Billy Graham: "Why is it you try 
to'impose your views on others? How can you be so sure? You 
are making the same mistake Jesus made." 

So far as the last sentence is concerned, the propagation of 
"the mistake that Jesus made" is, I think, Billy Graham's life 
work. As for imposing his views, he often says, "This isn't my 
message. I'm only the messenger boy. I can't decide what you 
do about the message when you get it. I can only try to make 
sure you get it." And few phrases are repeated oftener in his 
sermons than these: "I didn't say it; Jesus said if; "This is not 
man's opinion; this is God's opinion." "It's not important what 
Billy Graham says; here is what the Bible says." 

As for the second question How can he be so sure? that, 
I believe, is a good one. How can he? 

Like many other questions about Billy Graham, the answer 
to this one involves inquiry in an area to which preachers, pre- 
sumably, are acclimated but where the secular observer, obliged 
to do his observing with something less or at least other than 
the "eye of faith" and make his report in the vernacular, may 
be somewhat handicapped. I can only try to do what two earlier 
reporters did: 

33 



"Speak the things which we have seen and heard." 

For Billy Graham, himself, there is no doubt where his cer- 
tainty is rooted or when it began to grow any more than there 
was for Paul, Augustine, and Erasmus, or for Whitefield, Wes- 
ley, and Moody. As for them, his certainty is rooted in an ex- 
perience and it began at a specific date: the same experience 
and at a date as specific as theirs. There seems to me to be no 
more reason to doubt his testimony on this than there is to 
doubt theirs. There are the same reasons to believe it, namely, 
as with them, what happened to him at the time and, more con- 
vincing, what has been happening, as a consequence, ever since. 

This is not the place to discuss what Billy Graham means by 
"conversion." The word, like the experience, has pretty well 
dropped out of the working lexicon of many churches which, 
historically, are still called and once were "evangelical." It is 
hard to know how much the response to the conversion- 
weighted ministry of Billy Graham may be due to the failure 
of the church's modern synonyms to prove synonymous. For 
him, however, there is no doubt that his certainty began with 
his conversion. . x^_/ 

Billy Graham, at the time, was seventeen. An old-style, 
hell-and-damnation evangelist, Mordecai Ham by name, had 
opened a three-month assault on sin in the Graham home town 
of Charlotte, North Carolina. There was nothing notably sinful 
about Billy. He was a high-school baseball and basketball star, 
popular with the girls. He had no very definite idea what he 
wanted to do with himself unless, as he sometimes hoped, he 
could make the major leagues as a first baseman. He was the 
well-thought-of, nonsmoking, nondrinking, churchgoing son of 
devout parents. 

He had, however, no special interest in the church and some- 
thing of the aversion often found in high-school-age boys as 
well as in high-school-minded adults toward the overt expres- 
sion of religious concern. What he did, churchwise, was out of 
deference to his parents, and no more, if he could help it, than 
34 



the minimum. As for being a preacher, he rated preaching, 
according to one of his high-school friends, as "the one job 
in the world worse than being an undertaker." 

For the first several weeks, Ham's assault on sin in Charlotte 
left him untouched, since, despite some not-too-subtle hints 
from his parents, he kept himself out of reach. When one night 
he finally went out to the revival tent it was with a group of 
his high-school friends whose ideas on what else to do in Char- 
lotte on a midsummer night had run out. 

What he saw amazed him and, no doubt, stirred his imagi- 
nation: the size of the crowd more than 5,000, filling every 
seat, filling the bare-planked wooden platform, sitting on 
chairs, benches, and boxes beyond the tent walls; the long, 
sawdust-carpeted aisles; the unpainted pulpit; the "great choir," 
the women in white dresses, the men in shirt sleeves; most of 
all the scene when choir and congregation stood and sang to- 
gether basses and altos coming in with a booming volume on 
(he chorus downbeat: 

"When the Trumpet of the Lord shall sound 
And time shall be no more 
And the morning breaks eternal, bright and fair, 
And the saved of earth shall gather 
Over on the other shore 
And the roll is called up yonder ni be there. 

When the roll is called up yonder . . . 
When the roll . . .** 

What he heard from "Brother Ham" impressed him less al- 
though when, half through the sermon, the preacher pointed a 
finger straight at him and thundered, "You're a sinner/' Billy, 
to avoid a direct hit, ducked behind the hat of a woman in front 
of him. A night or two later he went again, this time with his 
Mead Albert McMakin. They went together several times 
thereafter. Under this nightly hammering, a few things began 

35 



to take shape in Billy's mind: the Heaven he could choose, the 
Hell he might be headed for, most of all, he says, a sermon 
on John 3:16: 'Tor God so loved the world that He gave His 
only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not 
perish, but have everlasting life." 

The next night, with another friend, Grady Wilson, he sat 
in the choir where, though unable to carry a tune, he figured 
he could escape the evangelist by being behind him. The 
evangelist's first words were: "There's a great sinner in this 
place tonight." Billy at once concluded: "Mother's been telling 
him about me." That night, when the invitation was given, Billy 
turned to Grady and said what thousands since have said in 
Billy Graham Crusades: "Let's go." 

He climbed down from the choir and, with Grady close be- 
hind, made his way to the altar. There were no tears, no blazing 
vision, no gift of tongues: "Right there I made my decision 
for Christ. It was as simple as that and as conclusive." 

His testimony has the same "joy and gladness" ring of others 
I have quoted in a previous chapter: "Have you ever been out- 
doors on a dark day when the sun suddenly bursts through the 
clouds? Deep inside, that's how I felt. The next day, I'm sure, 
I looked the same. But to me everything even the flowers and 
the leaves on the trees looked different. I was finding out 
for the first time the sweetness and joy of God, of being truly 
born again." 

On the way home that night the two friends, Billy and 
Grady, made a pact: having gone so far, finding it so good, 
they would, to the best of their ability and with God's help, "go 
all out." They eventually found a text which ever since has 
served them both to keep their pact intact, Philippians 1:6: 

"Being confident of this very thing, that He which hath 
begun a good work in you will perform it, until the day of 
Jesus Christ." 

Recently, during a Billy Graham Crusade in an American 
city, the police sergeant in charge of the detail assigned to the 
36 



auditorium came up to Billy Graham at the end of an evening 
meeting and said, "I wish you'd tell me how to start being sure 
you are a Christian." 

"That's what I try to tell every night," said Billy Graham. 
"It's no magic formula to be said and then said over and over. 
The nearest I can come to it in one word is the word 'surrender/ 
You can't be sure of Christ until He is sure of you. He can't be 
sure of you until, by the surrender of your will for yourself to 
His will for you, your life is committed to Him." 

For Billy Graham, the answer to the question How can he 
be so sure? began in the revival tent of Mordecai Ham that 
night in Charlotte as it did for Paul on the road to Damascus, 
for Wesley in the meetings in Aldersgate Street and for the 
young layman Dwight L. Moody in Boston in the back room 
of his employer's shoestore. 

But Billy Graham does not believe that religious certainty 
comes all done up, delivered, and complete in a conversion 
package. It did not come that way for him. He has had to work 
at it. He still works at it. In fact I gather that the surer he thinks 
he is the harder he works at it lest, I suppose, the Almighty 
regard his assurance as self-assurance. What he says is: "When 
I let up, God seems to let up, too." 

The two practices which he does not let up on or, if he does, 
he feels he suffers for are Bible study and prayer. The Apostle 
Paul, speaking of his own persistence in such matters, fre- 
quently used the phrase "without ceasing." He prayed "without 
ceasing"; gave thanks "without ceasing"; remembered * t wiih- 
out ceasing." In Billy Graham's Bible reading and prayer, his 
practice of what has been called "the presence of God," there 
is something which, though short of ceaseless, is not very far 
short. In this he stands in the succession of the great Christian 
evangelists. They, too, were "men of the Book" and of prayer. 

In one pocket or another, he always carries a Bible or a 
pocket Testament. He wears out one a year. Given two or three 
uninterrupted minutes, out it comes like, for some of the rest 

37 



of us, a paper-backed who-done-it in which he had just reached 
the payoff episode. Neither is his praying limited to morning 
and evening devotions. I once asked Ruth Graham about that. 
She said, "If you see your wife all day you don't have special 
times to talk to her and then talk to her only at those times. 
With Bill it is *pray without ceasing.' " 

Others have borne witness to that fact. On the last day of 
the All-Scotland Crusade, in the spring of 1955, the columnist 
for the Glasgow Daily Record wrote a farewell message to Billy 
Graham in which he said, in part: 

"Dear Billy: 

"Sorry you are going. In some ways we saw so little of you 
and that will seem queer to the folk who said they couldn't 
look at a paper without having to suffer your photo. 

"But really there was so little of you. 

"I'm glad it was like that in some ways. I suppose the secret 
of Billy Graham must be those morning and afternoon hours 
when nobody can keep you from God in prayer and Bible read- 
ing. Maybe it is just that your priorities are a little more sensible 
than most of ours. 

"You always have time for God. Maybe this is your biggest 
lesson for bustiin', hustlin' Glasgow. 

"I have listened to some of the suggestions. About easily in- 
fluenced adolescents and emotional appeals and all that. But 
on the whole the facts don't bear that out and I don't really 
have enough faith for that theory. 

"No, here's one man who has seen God at work through 
you, Billy. 

"When are you coming back? 

"Yours aye, 

"Robert McMahon." 

For Billy Graham, the Bible, from cover to cover, is the 
divinely inspired Word of God. Early in his ministry, he says, 
"I was doing a lot of preaching, but there was little power, in it 
38 



Then one day I got down on my knees and I said, *O God, I 
have got to get out of the ministry unless I can find a message 
with power.' As I prayed, I accepted the Bible, by faith, as 
God's Word. From that moment, my ministry has been differ- 
ent." 

He is not, however, a word-by-word literalist In fact, some 
extreme fundamentalists are not at all happy at the evidence 
they see of his departure from what, by their rigid prescriptions, 
is the orthodox treatment of the Scriptures. They also object 
to the fact that, instead of regarding the Word of God as having 
been delivered once and for all to the saints in the King James 
version, he frequently makes free to use the Scriptures in mod- 
ern translation. He regularly recommends some of those trans- 
lations to converts as "easier to understand." 

Unlike the extreme fundamentalists, some of whom seem 
more concerned for their views about the Bible than about the 
Bible and who make it a book of controversy and division, to 
Billy Graham it is an instrument, an indispensable instrument 
of faith. 

"One can be a Christian without reading the Bible," he says, 
"because it is faith in Christ which makes one a Christian, and 
not reading the Bible. But no one can be an intelligent and 
instructed Christian and very few, I think, are Christians of 
any kind for very long without the constant study of the 
Scriptures,* 5 

To new converts, he says, "To the Christian, the Bible is no 
longer just a holy book to be placed on the shelf in solitary 
state. It is a mighty weapon to take hold of with both hands 
and to be used in defeating the enemy. You would not expecl 
to lead a healthy physical life unless you ate your meals regu- 
larly. Show the same amount of common sense about preserv- 
ing your spiritual life in a vigorous and healthy state. Dailj 
Bible reading is an essential part of our spiritual diet" 

The power which he finds in the Bible is something more 
than the ordinary power of the printed word however ex- 

39 



txaordinary, as in other great literature, the words may be. 
It was that more-than-ordinary power, he says, which Jesus 
recognized and made use of when, during His temptation in 
the wilderness, His answer to each of Satan's lures was a verse 
from Scripture: "It is written . , ." 

This strange quality about the Book is even revealed in 
reverse Billy Graham debits this to Satan for, he says, "Is 
there any other book about which people are so painfully self- 
conscious? Many church people who don't hesitate to put 
almost any other kind of book on the table in the living room 
would hesitate to let their neighbors find the Bible there. Com- 
muters riding trains to and from work read newspapers and 
magazines of all sorts, without embarrassment. How few of 
them even active church members could, without great em- 
barrassment, get out a pocket Testament and, in the presence 
of their fellow commuters, read their way to work in it?" 

Driving with me one day in Florida, he took out his Bible 
and laid it open under his hand on his knee. "It's a strange 
thing about this book. There are many things in it I don't 
understand and can't explain. Some of the questions I have 
about it I am sure will never be answered this side of Heaven. 
But I know one thing: it contains enough that is so clear that 
he who runs may read It contains a mysterious power to direct 
and impel people all kinds and conditions of people into 
changed lives, and it helps to keep them changed. Inside these 
covers, on these printed pages are the guides and signposts to 
the answers to all man's deepest needs. That is not what I sup- 
pose to be true. That is what, in the actual lives of actual 
people, I have seen to be true. That is why I can open this 
book in front of you or before an audience of people and say, 
This is the Word of God/ " 

He believes that the Bible has this power over men's lives 
and the answers to their needs because, in it, Jesus Christ is 
revealed as the Son of God and through that revelation God's 
plan of salvation is made plain and accessible. 
40 



One morning in the summer of 1955, when Billy Graham 
had stopped between trains in Washington, D.C., en route from 
Europe to his home in North Carolina, he received an unex- 
pected call from the White House. The President and Mrs* 
Eisenhower, he was told, would appreciate it if he could call 
on them at their Gettysburg farm that afternoon. A car, the 
White House informed him, would call in two hours. 

For the first of the two hours, Billy Graham sat alone in his 
room. A friend who looked in saw him sitting in a chair, a Bible 
open in his lap. At the end of an. hour he came out. 

"Now," he said, "I'm ready/' 

"Weren't you ready?" someone asked. 

"Not enough," he said. "Suppose the President or Mrs. 
Eisenhower should ask me this afternoon for spiritual advice. 
I had to be sure." 

Since, to him, the Bible has Divine authority he preaches 
it without equivocation or apology. His often-repeated phrase, 
"The Bible says," is the Billy Graham equivalent for the pro- 
phetic declaration, "Thus saith the Lord." While preaching he 
carries an open Bible back and forth across the platform, ges- 
tures with it held aloft in his hands. 

"He is all the time letting the Word of God speak," writes 
a Scottish minister, "instead of, as so many of us do, speaking 
about it. He stands with the Book in his hands, not as a symbol 
(though he likes it to be that) but because it is the Book that 
is speaking, not he." 

The hundreds of counsellors at every Crusade meeting, the 
choir members and ushers are all expected to bring their Bibles. 
Everyone else is urged to do the same. In this modern era when, 
for many preachers, the Bible is a point of departure and, often, 
of "no return," and for many church members a closed book, 
it is an unusual, not to say stirring experience to hear in the 
moment when Billy Graham wails after giving the Scripture 
passage from which he is to preach the wave of sound tjiat 

41 



sweeps through the auditorium as thousands of people, swish- 
ing the pages, find the place in their Bibles. 

In his personal life, the Bible is an unfailing restorative, in- 
spiration, and guide. He has memorized great portions of it, 
Before one Crusade where he planned to preach a series of 
sermons on the Beatitudes, he memorized as part of his 
"training program" the entire three chapters in Matthew's 
Gospel of the Sermon on the Mount. He seldom spends less 
than an hour each day, sometimes much longer, in Bible read- 
ing. 

There are frequent entries in his diary like this one written 
in his room in a New York hotel: "Had a wonderful time in 
the Bible this afternoon. Sometimes when I am reading it I 
have to stop. I become so full I can take no more." Again, he 
writes to Ruth: "Have just finished reading Colossians in the 
Williams translation and notice how much emphasis Paul puts 
on putting to death the old man in our life and putting on the 
new self which Christ gives. I feel that in my own life I come 
so far short of living the thrilling Christian experience as out- 
lined in the New Testament." 

On Good Friday night, 1955, Billy Graham spoke from 
Glasgow over the entire TV and radio network of the British 
Broadcasting Corporation to what was officially said to have 
been the largest TV and radio audience, save that at the Coro- 
nation, in the history of British broadcasting, an<jl far and away 
the largest audience ever addressed by a preacher. On that day 
he wrote to Ruth: 

"This is Good Friday. Tonight I am to speak on The Cross' 
on BBC television and radio. For two days I have been agoniz- 
ing before the Lord that He would give me the message that 
would glorify Christ and make the Gospel so simple that the 
smallest child might understand. Now all day I have been rest- 
ing and reading and rereading the story of the Crucifixion of 
our Lord. When I read of His suffering and death by crucifix- 
ion, it overwhelms me. I have knelt down more than once 
42 



during the day, feeling my own unworthiness and sinfulness." 

The other part of the practice by which it is possible for 
Billy Graham to "be so sure" is prayer. He believes that the 
power of God in his Crusades is a result of the power of the 
prayers by which they are supported. His first great Crusade 
success was in Los Angeles in the fall of 1949. The meeting 
there was at first scheduled to run three weeks. It ran eight 
His tent auditorium had a seating capacity of 6,000. It had to 
be enlarged to 9,000. More than 2,700 made "decisions for 
Christ." 

Numerous factors helped to account for this outpouring. 
Billy Graham is certain that the one factor back of all the 
factors was prayer. For it was in preparation for the Los 
Angeles meeting that, for the first time, members of the 
Graham team and local ministers organized an advance "prayer 
Crusade." Weeks before the Crusade itself began, several hun- 
dred prayer groups were meeting regularly all over Los Angeles 
to pray for its success. 

"The only difference between thatCrusade and all the others 
we had held up to then was more prayer. But that made all the 
difference." 

His Crusades have never lacked for praying since. More 
than 500 prayer groups in Scotland, another 500 in England, 
Northern Ireland, and Wales were meeting regularly weeks 
before the 1955 Crusade began in Glasgow. Every night dur- 
ing that Crusade from 100 to 400 persons gave up their hard- 
to-get tickets in order to join in prayer in an improvised "Upper 
Room" in Kelvin Hall for the success of that night's meeting. 
Reports were received of scores of prayer groups, recruited by 
church papers and through Billy Graham's radio broadcasts, in 
the Christian churches of Korea, Africa, and India as well as 
throughout the British Commonwealth and Empire. There were 
**tens of thousands" of regularly praying people in the United 
States. 

"Because of the triumphs of modern communications," Billy 

43 



Graham said at the opening meeting, "Glasgow tonight is prob- 
ably the most prayed-for city in Christian history." 

A Scottish minister, standing one wet night with Billy 
Graham while the thousands streamed into Kelvin Hall, re- 
marked, "What a miracle." 

"It is no miracle," said Billy Graham. 'It would be a miracle 
if they didn't come. What is happening is the inevitable and 
natural result of God answering prayer. This is God in action." 

To new converts he gives this counsel: "Learn the secret of 
prayer. Christ's prayer life was one of the most amazing and 
impressive features of His earthly ministry. Throughout the 
days of His life He was a man of prayer. He prayed with His 
disciples. He prayed in secret. Sometimes He spent all night 
in prayer. If He, the holy, sinless Son of God, could not live 
His earthly life without constant fellowship with God, you cer- 
tainly cannot do so." 

For those who are uncertain how to go about it, he says: 

"Perhaps you say, 'But I don't know what to say when I 
pray.' God does not mind your stumbling and halting phrases. 
He is not interested in your grammar. He is interested in your 
heart. 

"I have a little boy only two years old. He stumbles and 
falters trying to express himself to me; but I thirty I love his 
little words that I cannot understand even more than I will 
appreciate his correct grammatical sentences when he grows 
older. 

"Have a secret time to pray each day. Make it a habit 
vital and necessary as your daily food. Learn to *pray without 
ceasing' that is, live through the day breathing a prayer to 
God. Another thing: make a prayer list of people and subjects 
to engage your prayers. 

"Above all, be sure that your motive in praying is always 
the glory of God." 

Praying, he says, "does not always mean getting down on 
your knees. There is nothing Scriptural about kneeling or 
44 



standing or bowing. Attitude of heart not of body is the 
important thing." 

His diary and letters reveal what praying means to him t 

"Received a long letter from Jerry Beavan this morning. It 
was so thought-provoking that I fell on my knees immediately 
in prayer." Before the overflow meeting in Madison Square 
Garden: "I spent almost the entire afternoon in prayer." After 
the meeting: "We immediately boarded the train for Washing- 
ton. The first thing I did was to thank God for the victories of 
the evening. As I go to bed, I am shouting His praises." 

Before an important interview in Philadelphia: "We knelt 
on the train and prayed that He would lead us." On shipboard, 
en route to Scotland with the members of his team: "Grady 
and I had a very delightful time of prayer and so did Lee and 
I today." On another day: "We had a delightful prayer meeting 
of the entire group." 

Of the journey from London to Glasgow, he wrote to Ruth: 
"A number of reporters got on the train with us and tried to 
interview me in the corridor. I said good night and went back 
to crawl into bed. Then I felt a great burden of prayer. So I 
got on my knees beside the little bed as the train was rolling 
through the outer edges of London and prayed for our meetings 
in Glasgow. I prayed particularly for the press conference the 
next morning, that God would give great wisdom. The verse 
kept coming over and over as having an immediate personal 
meaning for me: '. . . and guided them by the skillfulness of 
His hands.' I had had difficulty resting the last few nights, so 
I also prayed the Lord would give me a good night's rest. I 
had no sooner prayed and crawled into bed than I went sound 
asleep." 

After meeting with several members of the team on the eve 
of the Glasgow Crusade, he wrote to Ruth again: "We had din- 
ner in my room and then we started to pray. As we were pray- 
ing, it seemed that we could hear the rushing of the wind. I have 
never had but one or two spiritual experiences like it. It was 

45 



so wonderful, so thrilling, so sacred that I cannot even tell 
about it. It was almost like a Pentecostal experience." 

The certainty which such close to ceaseless practice of the 
presence of God has produced in Billy Graham is centered in 
the person of Jesus Christ. He once said to me, "If there were 
no historical evidence for Jesus Christ, if there were no Bible 
to tell His story, I would still believe in Him because beyond 
history and outside the Bible I have come to know Him by 
personal experience. He is as real to me as any living person. 
That's why I don't argue about Him or try to make Him seem 
plausible by intellectual defense. I only say 'Seek Him,' Try 
Him.' There is no other way to be sure." 

In his diary and letters Billy Graham writes of Him as one 
might write of a close friend, confidant, and trusted compan- 
ion. 

After attending and addressing a large banquet in Chicago 
with his wife, he writes: "The Lord certainly knew what He 
was doing when He chose her for my wife and number one 
advisor." He describes an old friend: "He loves the Lord with 
all his 300 pounds." After prolonged discussion of a vexing 
problem: "We still don't know just what to do. But the Lord 
will give the answer." Again: "Had an especially good time in 
devotions this morning. The Lord was very real." 

Before the opening meeting of one Crusade: "Many people 
have an idea that we should not give an invitation the first 
night. However, as the day has gone along, the faith is increas- 
ing in me to believe the Lord is going to do a great thing this 
opening night I can already sense His presence here in the 
room." 

When, in the winter of 1955, he was interviewed by Wash- 
ington, D.C., newsmen on the TV program Meet the Press, he 
wrote: "This was probably my biggest ordeal. I did not know 
one question they were going to ask me. The perspiration was 
in the palms of my hands and I think a little was on my brow. 
But I had made this a matter of prayer and I knew the Lord 
46 



was going to help me. The questions gave me a great oppor- 
tunity to witness concerning the saving grace and power of 
Christ. I am praying that souls may come to Christ as a result 
of this one program/* 

There is no record of how that prayer was answered. But 
Lawrence Spivak, the director of Meet the Press, said later that 
the mail received from that program was a near record for all 
the years it had been on the air. As a result, breaking the 
program's precedents, Billy Graham was invited to appear a 
second time in the same year. 

To the question, How can he be so sure?, Billy Graham 
would probably give somewhat the same answer I once heard 
him give a reporter who had asked: "Why did you become an 
evangelist?" 

"Let me ask you a question. Suppose I should discover a 
chemical which if taken by any person would make that person 
radiant and happy, give meaning to his life, and assure him 
of immortal life hereafter. Then suppose I should decide to 
keep that secret to myself. What would you say about me? 
You'd say, wouldn't you, 'Billy, you're a criminal'? 

"If I didn't know, for sure, that faith in Christ is vital, trans- 
forming, that it gives direction to life and makes life worth 
living, I'd go back to my little North Carolina farm and spend 
the rest of my days tilling the soil. But I have seen too many 
lives untangled and rehabilitated, too many homes recon- 
structed, too many people find peace and joy through simple, 
humble confession of faith in Christ ever to doubt that He is 
the answer. 

1 am an evangelist for the same reason the Apostle Paul 
was: *Woe is unto me, if I preach not the gospel.' " 



47 



3: As one having authority 



ONE NIGHT, during a Billy Graham sermon, a newspaper col- 
umnist sitting across the table from me in the press section 
passed over a note: "I can't figure this out" 

I wrote back: "You're not the first" 

At the end of the meeting we walked out together. The col- 
umnist had no further comment until we reached the exit and 
were ready to separate. Then he said, "Isn't there something 
in the Bible about its having been good for us to be here?" 

"That," I said, "was Peter on the Mount of Transfiguration." 

"Well," he said, "I still can't figure it out But that's the way 
I feel" 

No fact about the preaching of Billy Graham is more amaz- 
ing than the number of those who, by ordinary analyzing, can- 
not figure it out and yet, their hearts strangely wanned, cannot 
lightly dismiss it When he says, "I am no great preacher,* 9 
other preachers generally agree. Yet he has been heard by 
more people than any preacher in Christian history; more 
people, hearing him preach, have made "decisions for Christ" 

"Homfletically," said Dr. W. E. Sangster, one of England's 
foremost ministers, "his sermons leave almost everything to be 
desired. They are often without discernible structure. Some- 

49 



times there is little or no logical progression. Illustrations are 
few and far between and generally not of the best. 

"Yet, in the wake of this 'poor' preaching I have seen things 
happen I never expected to see, things which I doubt any man 
has seen since the Day of Pentecost. To hear that preaching 
I have seen 100,000 people together in one place most of 
them standing in the cold and rain. And at the end of it, I 
have seen 3,000 of them stream across the sodden turf to stand 
in the downpour before a crude, unpainted platform as though 
it were the very foot of the Cross. What am I to say of preach- 
ing such as that save 'Amen' and 'Amen'?" 

Let us admit, writes the Reverend Tom Allan, a leading 
minister of the Church of Scotland, that Billy Graham's preach- 
ing "is not, by the accepted standards, of the highest order. 
His sermons were often without form. There were some quirks 
in his grammar. His few illustrations were never from general 
literature but invariably from the Bible or from life. . . . 

"But for myself it was preaching in the New Testament sense 
of the word. It was 'proclamation' of the Faith once delivered 
to the saints, the central affirmations of the Gospel stripped of 
all irrelevancies, of all concessions . . . stark simplicity of 
utterance which allowed the facts of the faith to emerge without 
distraction. The verdict simply is: *We understand what this 
man is saying.' And when, at his invitation, the people come, 
the evangelist, at last, stands back silent, forgotten. This is the 
moment of the Spirit of God." 

Some observers who have undertaken to report on Billy 
Graham while aiming at the same time to keep their skepticism 
intact have been driven to offer some extraordinary explana- 
tions for the power of his preaching. Most of these explana- 
tions, it seems to me, put a greater strain on one's gullibility 
than those advanced by believers and would require, to give 
them substance, the "passing" of even greater miracles than 
those of faith. I have heard him accounted for by "his good 
looks," "the bobby-sox appeal," "the hypnotism in his eyes," 
50 



"the mesmeric sound of his voice." Alistair Cooke, who ob- 
served Billy Graham one night in Madison Square Garden and 
whose report to the Manchester Guardian was as clever as it 
was indicative of the extent of his contact, summed it all up as 
"seduction." To J. B. Priestley whose knowledge, he con- 
fessed, was derived from having once heard Billy Graham on 
television the response to his preaching was "not hunger for 
religion," but "because what so many of us want now is a 
show." 

I am sure that neither Mr. Cooke nor Mr. Priestley would 
have presumed to base such final judgment of any subject on 
such paucity of knowledge save on the assumption that most 
of their readers would be equally ill-informed. As explanations 
for Billy Graham, the "seduction" of his personality and "the 
show" he puts on could only be written out of ignorance for 
the benefit of others equally ignorant of the fact that 20,000,- 

000 people listen to his H our of Decision sermon every Sunday 
afternoon in the seduction-insulated quiet of their homes, or 
of the fact that every night during the All-Scotland Crusade up 
to a million people assembled in churches, halls, and movie 
theaters in England, Scotland, Northern Ireland, and Wales 
to listen to his preachings piped in to them, totally unadorned 
with the trappings of showmanship, by telephone relay. 

However much the plausibility of such appraisals as those 

1 have quoted is derived from ignorance, I do not doubt they 
are a solace to that considerable number of people who, here- 
tofore confident, not to say cocksure, in their religious uncon- 
cern, have been stirred into some uneasiness by the Billy 
Graham phenomenon. They are a means to escape the un- 
pleasantly discommoding prospect of having to take him 
seriously. But it is significant that such "explanations" are 
only advanced by those who, like Messrs. Cooke and Priestley, 
have been unwilling to risk more than the briefest possible ex- 
posure to him or his preaching. I have found that objective 
observers generally agree with the famed English writer and 

51 



Cambridge University professor, C. S. Lewis, who remarked 
during Billy Graham's 1955 series of meetings in Cambridge, 
"I've noticed that those who really know Billy Graham and 
have heard him often invariably speak well of him; those who 
speak otherwise have generally seldom seen or heard him." I 
have met many skeptics who, having heard him, remained 
skeptical. I have not met one who, having mustered sufficient 
courage to hear him repeatedly, did not say that the explana- 
tions born of skepticism were not good enough. 

I have sat through several dozen Billy Graham sermons. I 
have taken notes of many of them. Some of them flow point 
after point one, two, three and, in one case, up to twelve 
points in the smooth homiletical tradition of Sunday morning 
in suburbia. In others, there is little discoverable trace of 
organization. They always have a subject. All of them have 
at some point or other in the discourse a text. But, in these 
numerous instances, subject and text serve chiefly as a point 
of departure. From them the preacher took off and preached 
letting the points, if any, fall where they might. 

But in my notes I also recorded, after each sermon, the 
results. Unlike the results of some preaching, they were always 
distinguishable enough to deserve recording. But they often 
seemed to be in reverse ratio to the homiletical excellence of 
what had gone before. Those sermons which came out, in out- 
line, as likeliest to rate among the experts' "Best Sermons of 
the Year" often appeared to rate less than average among the 
people who listened, whereas some of those which, in my notes 
at least, seemed to have little form or orderliness or climactic 
build-up seemed to have more power to stir people to leave 
the places where they sat and, in the sight of the multitude, 
walk down the long aisles to give what Billy Graham calls "a 
yes verdict to Jesus Christ." 

Perhaps this is what Billy Graham had in mind when he 
once wrote: "I am convinced there is a vast difference between 

52 



liberty and power, that sometimes when you do not feel liberty, 
you have the greatest power." 

At any rate, Billy Graham's preaching, though it never leaves 
me cold, often leaves me, like many others, puzzled. It is not 
too difficult to describe how he preaches and recount what he 
preaches. It is puzzling when one tries to describe why the 
how and the what of his preaching invariably produce such 
consequences. There is nothing in the script adequate to ex- 
plain it. 

Someone once asked George Whitefield, whose preaching 
in the mid-eighteenth century stirred colonial America into the 
"Great Awakening/' for permission to publish his sermons. 

"Certainly," said Whitefield, "if you will include the fire and 
the lightning." 

Although, in the eighteenth-century sense, Billy Graham is 
no thunderer, the unmistakable fire and fervor of his preaching 
are beyond transmitting by the printed word. But even with the 
fire and fervor added, an explanation of the consequences of 
his preaching is not, I think, within the reach of technical analy- 
sis. Most of what happens is still unexplained. 

In this, also, Billy Graham seems to stand in a notable suc- 
cession. Beginning with Paul whose preaching, to some, was 
'foolishness" the triumphs of other great evangelists have 
seemed to be beyond ordinary explaining. Wesley's sermons, 
says one of his biographers, "do not help us to understand his 
power over the hearts of men." A Boston journalist, after listen- 
ing night after night to Dwight L. Moody, wrote: "It is a 
marvel to many how the preaching of Mr. Moody produces the 
effect which evidently comes from it. He is not a learned man 
in doctrine or profound in theological study. He is not even 
strikingly original in thought or forcible in style of expression. 
He has few of the arts or graces of oratory and yet he brings 
people together in greater crowds and apparently produces 
more effect upon their thoughts and feeling and conduct than 
the most brilliant and cultured of popular divines. . . ." 

53 



After extensive observation, after trying out, without suc- 
cess, numerous other explanations, the conclusion has finally 
become inescapable for me that the single most convincing ex- 
planation of the power of Billy Graham's preaching is that he 
speaks "as one having authority." And the nearest I have come 
to explaining the consequences of his preaching is that he not 
only speaks with authority, but that, from sources not visible 
to the naked journalistic eye, he has been given authority for 
his speaking. 

Sometimes the structure of what he says is oratorical. In fact, 
he has undoubted gifts as an orator and occasionally, particu- 
larly in his radio sermons, they are strikingly displayed. Some- 
times, as my notes reveal, the structure of what he says is com- 
monplace. But however he says it, the overtone of authority 
is never missing. There is authority in his voice and gestures. 
There is authority in the forthrightness of his declarations. 
There is authority in the total absence from his preaching of 
words of equivocation, of "if," "maybe," or "perhaps." 

But these are merely the audio-visual marks of authority. 
They can be seen and heard and they might be calculated. But 
the oftener one hears Billy Graham preach and the closer one 
gets to the man, the more awareness there is that his authority 
is rooted in something deeper than anything seen or heard. I 
believe that that deeper thing is an authoritative, continually 
renewed experience of the presence of God. One's first inclina- 
tion is to say, "He speaks as though he knows what he is talk- 
ing about." Later, one is likelier to say, "He speaks because he 
knows what he is talking about," 

"In short authoritative sentences," says a writer in the Chris- 
tian Century, "the tall young man with the wavy hair and 
the Hollywood drape has spoken about God. It might be said 
that he is familiar with God. He knows God. He is sure." 

In the spring of 1954, at the end of the Greater London 
Crusade, the London Sunday Times, after three months in 
54 



which to observe, gave its appraisal in a remarkable editorial 
reprinted, later, in the U.S. News' and World Report: 

"There are many puzzled people in Britain today. Three 
months ago a young American came to London. His arrival 
was greeted in some quarters with ridicule and hostility or with 
contemptuous silence. But religion has become front-page news 
and frequent articles have been printed either about Billy 
Graham or concerning the challenge he has brought to the 
churches. 

"The people who thronged Harringay and Wembley are 
puzzled. Many went out of curiosity, expecting to find an exag- 
gerated emotionalism or the raving of a Hot Gospeller. In- 
stead, they heard a well-reasoned though forceful declaration 
of the half-forgotten fundamental truths of Christianity. To 
their surprise they discovered that these truths which they had 
imagined were out of date and. irrelevant found a responsive 
echo in their own hearts and held out a possible hope in this 
age of despair. . . . 

**Why has the preaching of this young man done for them 
what apparently the churches have not done? The answer seems 
to lie in this direction. The people want to know the truth. 
They want it declared with authority and conviction, dogmat- 
ically and without apology. 

"Dr. Graham has appeared in the role of an Old Testament 
prophet or John the Baptist declaring 'Thus saith the Lord,' 
and thousands have responded to his message. Nineteen hun- 
dred years ago men were puzzled by the preaching of St Paul, 
preaching which swept away the paganism of the Roman Em- 
pire and the dead ecclesiasticism of Judaism. The explanation 
which he himself gave is: The preaching of the Cross is to 
them that are perishing foolishness, but unto us which are being 
saved, it is the power of God.' Is not that the real answer to 
our questions today?" 

Just where, precisely, Billy Graham can be assigned in the 
long aad, on the whole, unhappy scale of theological opinions 

55 



as between liberals and fundamentalists it is difficult to say. 
He, himself, in an answer to that question in Look magazine 
has written: 

"There are so many shades of fundamentalism and so many 
shades of liberalism that it is extremely difficult to point to a 
man and say he is a 'liberal* or he is a 'fundamentalist' without 
qualifying explanations. If by fundamentalist you mean 'nar- 
row,' 'bigoted/ 'prejudiced/ 'extremist/ 'emotional/ 'snake 
handler,* Vithout social conscience' then I am definitely not 
a fundamentalist. However, if by fundamentalist you mean a 
person who accepts the authority of the Scriptures, the virgin 
birth of Christ, the atoning death of Christ, His bodily resur- 
rection, His second coming and personal salvation by grace 
through faith, then I am a fundamentalist. . . ." 

That answer, no doubt, puts Billy Graham to the fundamen- 
talist right of center. How far right, however, is still an unre- 
solved question and is likely to continue so. To theologically 
minded groups questioning him he says, "I am not a theologian. 
I can only tell you what I believe with what light I have." So 
far as his Scriptural literalism is concerned, that light as is 
indicated in a later chapter has undergone some modifying. 

Still, no person who has been reared in the liberal theologi- 
cal tradition and accustomed to the kind of sermons which that 
tradition normally produces can, I think, fail to find in the 
preaching of Billy Graham doctrines which, on reflection, are 
both startling and difficult. What, however, seems to me of 
greater moment is the fact that his is not, essentially, doctrinal 
preaching. Its objective is not argument-inducing, but com- 
mitment-inducing. And the net consequence of his preaching 
is to create the conviction even among many of those who 
strongly disagree with some aspects of his theology that the 
commitment he pleads for is something which transcends theol- 
ogy and takes precedence over doctrine. 

On this point, Dr. Leslie Weatherhead, distinguished Meth- 
odist minister of the City Temple, London, and author of 
56 



numerous best-selling religious boots, has written of Billy 
Graham: 

"Theology is very important . . . But let us remember that 
a man can live a good life and be a devout follower of our 
Lord with very little theology. You do not need much theology 
to be a simple and humble follower of Jesus. . . . 

"I have learned myself to accept the fact that there is such 
a variation in the way in which men's minds work that none 
has the right to deny the Christian loyalty of the other because 
of a difference in a theological point of view. 

"I do not personally agree with some of Billy Graham's theol- 
ogy . . . but I certainly accept the value of Billy Graham's 
witness. He wisely realizes that men are changed by news, not 
views. He offered them the good news of Christ, and I should 
have thought that any minister who frequently preaches to 
small congregations might rejoice that Billy Graham is helping 
to fill our churches for us. We can teach theology when we have 
got somebody to teach. . . ." 

Perhaps, in this, Billy Graham's "calling" does include the- 
ology. For it is his conviction that today's greatest revival need 
is for a revival within the church; that among both fundamen- 
talists and liberals there are many who stand in need of being 
touched and changed by such a revival; that there is no greater 
challenge than to preach a Gospel which, whether they are 
fundamentalists or liberals, can reach, touch, and change those 
within the church who need changing. To be able to preach 
such an indiscriminately transforming Gospel is, I believe, the 
gift which Billy Graham most earnestly and devoutly prays for. 

It is a matter of some regret to Billy Graham that he never 
attended a theological school, That he never did probably 
accounts for the fact that he is a bit in awe of theologians. 
'What a tremendous mind he has," he wrote after spending 
an afternoon with one. "We talked theology. He confirmed 
from the theological point of view some of the things I had 
been saying in my preaching which some ministers have criti- 

57 



cized. He gave me several extremely helpful suggestions. Again 
I say, what a tremendous mind." 

No occasion makes him more nervous in anticipation than 
a speech at an intellectually "upper-bracket" theological assem- 
bly such as at Union Theological Seminary in New York City 
or before the students in theology at Cambridge University. 

"If God used the service," he said, after speaking at Cam- 
bridge, "then I am thankful. But I have so little theological 
training I felt my own inadequacy in standing before so the- 
ological a group." 

He is also aware that the inadequacies in such an encounter 
are not necessarily all his. 

"It's surprising," he wrote to Ruth Graham after a question- 
and-answer session at one theological school, "how little the- 
ological students know about the Bible. They know about 
church history, psychology, pastoral theology and other things 
all good but they know little about the Bible. It is also 
surprising how confused theological students are, and yet, 
many times, how hungry. Sometimes I think theological pro- 
fessors make the mistake of being professors only. Every pro- 
fessor ought to be a preacher and an evangelist. He ought to 
come face to face with the hearts and the problems of men and 
women. Maybe then he could impart some warmth and convic- 
tion to his students." 

But I have heard preachers, some of them equipped with 
the ultimate in theological education, question whether Billy 
Graham's lack in that regard is lack at all. "Not having gone 
to a seminary," said one minister with the highest credentials, 
"he has not been schooled in the complexities, the varying 
shades, the various alternatives. He has not, like so many of 
us, been tutored into uncertainty. He preaches as though noth- 
ing had ever come between him or, at least, had ever stood 
long between him and God as though his faith were as clear 
and sure 'as it was on the day of his conversion." All Billy 
Graham would add is that, proving it daily for himself and 
58 



seeing it so conclusively proved in the lives of others, his faith 
is clearer and surer than it was at his conversion and, as he 
once remarked, "is continually getting more so/' 

I once heard a professor of theology gifted with above- 
average humility and humor say that "theology is the art of 
reducing the obvious to the obscure." Whatever Billy Graham 
may have lost by not studying theology, the obscurity and un- 
certainty he might have found he has escaped. 

"Sometimes people ask me," says Ruth Graham, "whether 
Bill ever entertains any doubt about what he believes and 
preaches. I always tell them, 'Of course he has doubts. But 
never for long because, you see, he never entertains them/ " 

"I wouldn't know how to preach like Billy Graham," says a 
Presbyterian clergyman, a graduate of Princeton Theological 
Seminary. "For twenty years now I have been engaged, like 
most of our so-called modern preachers, in inventing logic, 
parable, intellectual forensics and everything but the words of 
the Bible to prove that they are not wrong. 

"Here comes this fellow who says the Bible is right because 
he believes in God, and the Scriptures are God's words. That's 
simply it. No need to fiddle around with any more proof than 
that. 

"Furthermore, Td hate to admit it, but I think most of us 
have felt rather insecure about our congregations. We were 
afraid they would think we were old fuddy-duddies if we just 
opened the Bible and read from it and told a few Bible stories 
with complete belief. What Billy Graham has done is to give 
these words new dignity. 

"And brother, in these times, how we need it." 

Above the platform for every Billy Graham Crasade there 
is the same inscription: 

"Jesus says, 1 am the Way, the Truth and the Life/ " 

Every Crusade service uses, somewhere near the beginning, 
thesainesoflg: "To God Be the Glory, Great Things He Hath 
Done," 

59 



Every Billy Graham sermon is introduced by a solo by Bev- 
erly Shea, and Billy Graham begins with a prayer: 

"Our Father and our God, may the people see only Christ 
tonight and not the speaker. We pray that there may be scores 
and hundreds here who will be born again, so that they will 
go back to the home, the office, the school, the factory to live 
and practice Christ We pray that they will go from this place 
with Christ as their Lord and Savior. For we ask it in His 
name. Amen." 

Every sermon has essentially the same message: 

"Many of you here tonight are like a plane lost in a fog 
which has lost contact with the airport. You are circling round 
in the fear, insecurity, and loneliness of your lives. You can 
make contact with God through Jesus Christ. For your fear, the 
Bible says, 'Perfect love casteth out fear'; for your insecurity, 
'He that overcometh fear shall inherit all things'; for your lone- 
liness, 'Lo, I am with you always.' " 

It is a mark of Billy Graham's preaching, as was said of 
another great preacher, that "he always cuts straight across 
country to Christ." Often, his opening words are these: "I want 
you to get a picture of Jesus." "Whatever subject he an- 
nounces," says one minister, "whatever text he takes, every 
sermon has at its center 'Christ and Him Crucified.' " 

"The invitation was a little more difficult last night," he 
writes to Ruth, "and fewer people came. The moment I walked 
down from the platform the Holy Spirit said to me, *You did 
not preach Christ and the Cross as you should.' I looked back 
over my sermon and I remember that I had exalted Christ a 
little less, perhaps, and it was one of the few occasions that 
I did not touch on His death, burial, and resurrection as the 
heart of the message. The Lord taught me a lesson." 

Although I have never heard him preach a sermon from 
that text, there is a sense in which Paul's testimony to Timothy 
is the text for all Billy Graham's sermons: "I know Whom 
I have believed and am persuaded. , , ." 
60 



Every Billy Graham sermon contains the same diagnosis: 

"The Bible teaches that our souls have a disease. It is worse 
than dread cancer, polio, or heart disease. It is the plague that 
causes all the troubles and difficulties in the world. It causes 
all the troubles, confusions, and disillusionments in your own 
life. The name of the disease is an ugly word. We don't like 
to use it But it is a word that the psychiatrists are harming 
to use once again. In our desire to be modern, we had almost 
forgotten it, but once again we are beginning to realize that 
it is the root of all man's troubles. It is sin." 

Sin is "anything which separates man from God." It is 
"transgression of the law of God." Or it is "iniquity evil that 
springs from our inner motivations, those hidden things we so 
often try to keep from the eyes of men and God." Or it is 
"missing the mark falling short of God's expectations for us 
and from our lives." Or it is "trespassing the intrusion of 
self-will into the sphere of God's authority, the centering of 
affection in one's own being instead of reaching out, with all 
one's heart and mind and soul, to love God and to love our 
neighbor as ourself ." 

All men are sinners: "The Bible teaches 'all have sinned and 
come short.' " There is a real Hell, "an eternal judgment" to- 
ward which, aided by a real Satan, unrepentant man is headed. 
"Essentially, Hell is separation from God." 

There is, in those definitions, plenty of room for the preach- 
ing of what is described as the social Gospel. And that Gospel 
undoubtedly has an increasing place in Billy Graham's preach- 
ing. He himself has said, "The Gospel is both vertical and hori- 
zontal. The vertical signifies our relationship to God. The hori- 
zontal signifies the application of the principles of the teachings 
of Christ to our daily lives. At least a third of my preaching 
is spent encouraging and teaching people to apply the princi- 
ples of Christiaiiity in their personal and social lives. ... I 
would like to say emphatically that any Gospel that preaches 
only vertical relationships is only a half -Gospel; that a Gospel 

61 



that preaches only horizontal relationships is only a half -Gospel. 
The message of evangelism must be for the whole man." 

That declaration which I doubt Billy Graham would have 
made ten years ago is evidence, I think, that the social impli- 
cations of the Gospel will be increasingly emphasized in his 
preaching. Those implications, however, are still considerably 
short of central to his concern. The righteousness he calls for 
with such authority in his preaching is still very largely a one- 
part matter of man's personally righteous relationship to his 
God, and not yet very insistently a two-part matter having, as 
its second part, man's socially righteous relationship to his fel- 
lows. His concept of sin is still very largely a Ten-Command- 
ment concept which includes, it seems to me, too little of the 
beyond-the-Ten-Commandments sins which Amos, Hosea, and 
Micah and Jesus most of all cried out against. His idea of 
the Christian's social obligations is still too much limited to the 
charitable "cup of cold water" a phrase he often uses and 
extends too seldom to the Christian in his corporate, and com- 
munal, relationships. 

"Every message that I preach," says Billy Graham, "carries 
with it social implications and social responsibilities." Inade- 
quate and obscure though that emphasis may sometimes seem 
to be, no one can hear or read many of his sermons without 
being aware that it is on the increase. 

Neither can anyone who has been familiar over the years 
with the social Gospel as it has been preached and written fail 
to recognize the truth in Billy Graham's belief that "much of 
this preaching puts the cart before the horse. The reason I have 
put first in my preaching the vertical relationship of the indi- 
vidual to his God is because the plain and Scriptural fact is 
that we cannot have a better world until we have better men. 
It is for me impossible to find any Scriptural basis for the belief 
that a righteously reborn social order can come in any other 
way save through the work of spiritually reborn men. That is 
because, as so much of history has tragically proved, the estab- 
62 



lishment of God's will on earth and among men is not possible 
for us in our own strength. It becomes possible in the home, 
the shop, the community, in the problem of race relations, in 
all these crucial matters only when our strength is lifted above 
the human norm by the in-dwelling of Christ." 

Although in Billy Graham's preaching there may be some 
lack of some of those specifics which constitute what is 
commonly spoken of as the social Gospel, there is no doubt 
whatever that his preaching does invariably produce social 
consequences which must be rated as more than ordinarily 
significant. During and in the wake of every Billy Graham 
Crusade broken families are reunited, alcoholics are cured 
of their alcoholism, juvenile delinquents are brought within 
the influence of the church. 

In the American South his insistence on nonsegregation in 
Crusade meetings has set an example not only for the churches 
but for entire communities. In scores of industrial plants in the 
United States and Great Britain employer-employee relations 
have improved as a result of prayer groups established during 
the Billy Graham meetings and maintained thereafter. In the 
field of international relationships it is doubtful whether any 
number of social-Gospel resolutions could match in practical 
results the contribution which, in his 1956 mission to Asia, 
Billy Graham made to East-West understanding and good will. 

There has been, too, a considerable change which extreme 
fundamentalists may regard as dangerous deviationism in the 
specifics of Billy Graham's literalism. He is as sure as ever 
about the reality of Heaven and Hell, for example, but less sure 
about the literalists' blueprint of them. 

Earlier in his preaching, Hell burned with a real, not a figura- 
tive fire. "The Bible says God has a fire as when the three 
Hebrew children were thrown into the fiery furnace that 
burns but does not consume." The Heaven he pictured then 
was straight from the drawing boards: "Sixteen hundred miles 
long, sixteen hundred miles wide, sixteen hundred miles high." 

63 



Since those early days his emphasis has considerably changed. 
As sure as he is of the existence of Hell, he now says that 
Hell's fire may be "the burning thirst for God of those who 
have been eternally banished from His presence." Hell's "outer 
darkness" may be "the total absence of light where God Himself 
is totally absent." But whether we take the Bible's words "to be 
literal or figurative does not affect Hell's reality." 

As for Heaven, "the description in the twenty-first and 
twenty-second chapters of Revelation is beyond our under- 
standing . . . gates of pearls, streets of gold, a river of life, 
a tree of life. What we can be sure of is that it is a beautiful 
place, that it is a happy place, and that it is a place where 
there is work to do and that God is there. . . ." 

Satan, however, has undergone no such alteration. "Don't 
doubt for a moment the existence of the Devil! We see his 
power and influence everywhere. He is very personal and he 
is very real. And he is extremely clever." 

At the end of a long day of conferences preparatory to open- 
ing the All-Scotland Crusade in Glasgow, he wrote in his diary: 
"Satan is very cunning. We recognize that on our way to Glas- 
gow, as we are holding our meetings and planning our strategy 
and spending time in prayer that God will send revival, that 
Satan is also holding his councils, laying his plans to bring, if 
he can, God's work to nought." 

Prior to his mission in Cambridge University in the fall of 
1955, he wrote: "During the past week I have felt the tre- 
mendous opposition of Satan. I seriously doubt if at any time 
in my ministry I have so felt the powers of darkness. It seems 
as though the demons of Hell had concentrated against this 
mission." 

Just as it always contains the same diagnosis, so every Billy 
Graham sermon offers the same cure. God sent His Son "that 
whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have ever- 
lasting life." For our salvation, Christ died on the Cross: "Ye 
are bought with a price." By Christ's resurrection from the 
64 



dead, God's promise of our salvation is confirmed and vali- 
dated. Through the "gift of the Holy Spirit," given at Pentecost, 
that promise is made available to all succeeding generations. 

"For you who are hopeless, for a world that is desperate, 
there is Good News. That Good News is the Gospel of Jesus 
Christ. Those of us who know Him have no fear of the present. 
He is Lord of the present. We have no fear of the future. He is 
the key to the future. 

"This faith in Christ that we are preaching night after night 
is not superstition or an empty theory or a means of livelihood 
or a meaningless creed. It is the power of God unto salvation. 
It is vital; it is transforming; it is empowering; it is stabilizing; 
it is comforting and it gives direction to life." 

Man's cure, his "laying hold of the new life," requires his 
conversion: "I didn't say that; Jesus said it: 'Except ye be con- 
verted and become as little children, ye shall not enter the 
Kingdom of Heaven/ " Conversion requires that "you confess 
and repent of your sins; surrender your will to Christ; by faith 
receive Him as Lord and Master." "The Bible says, 'If we con- 
fess our sins He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and 
to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.' " 

The "where" of conversion is not important whether "in 
the quiet of your home, the hallowed sanctuary of a church, or 
at an evangelistic meeting." Neither is the "how" important 
"whether suddenly, as with Paul on the Damascus Road or 
slowly over many months." What is important is "Who the 
Person you decide for." 

Just how it is conversion "happens," Billy Graham does not 
profess to understand. He knows it happened to him. He has 
seen it happen to all kinds and conditions of people thousands 
who "for their dilemmas, problems, and frustrations found joy, 
hope, and peace." Like Nicodemus, he still asks, "How can 
these things be?" 

"But neither," he says, "do I understand how a young man 
and a young woman fall in love. You cannot analyze it, dissect 

65 



it, or reduce it to a chemical formula. But there it is. And the 
fact that it cannot be explained does not make it any less real." 

Billy Graham preaches every sermon "for a verdict." In fact, 
as was said of the preaching of Dwight L. Moody, every part 
of every sermon seems, from start to finish, to point to the altar 
and, often, he begins to make the invitation long before he is 
ready to ask for a response from the congregation. 

There are no tear-wringing stories, no deathbed scenes, no 
hysteria-inducing endings. This the absence of any extremes 
of emotion is a fact which every objective observer notes, 
sometimes, in view of the assumptions of ill-informed critics, 
with astonishment. 

Thus, in his column in the Toronto Telegram, Frank Turn- 
pane writes: "I had thought Billy Graham was turning religion 
into an emotional exhibition. I never heard him in the flesh 
until the other night. My views changed radically, . . . The 
vast audience sits hushed, watching and hearing. There is 
little apparent emotionalism. A few say 'Amen' at various 
places throughout the sermon. But frenzy is completely lack- 
ing. The only outward emotionalism is on the platform." 

Dr. Leslie Weatherhead, whom I have already quoted, has 
said: 

"I found no emotion of the cheap, meretricious kind. There 
were no sentimental stories, no attempts to produce the easy 
tear. That being so, what is wrong with emotion? If Christianity 
is falling in love with Christ, has anyone ever fallen in love 
without emotion? . . . Human nature functions most potently 
when the will is fired by emotion. . . . Without some emotion 
no man has ever made such a profound choice as the choice to 
follow Christ" 

Every conversion, says Billy Graham, has emotion in it. But 
the greater part is will. That is the way he preaches. That is 
why, among the many who stream forward every night during 
a Crusade, there is great soberness, but few tears. 
66 



In the actual invitation the words Billy Graham uses are 
always much the same: 

"You can go out from here tonight with such peace and 
assurance as you have never known. . . ." 

"You say, 'Billy, that's all well and good. I'll thinV it over 
and I may come back, I'll . . .' Wait a minute. You can't come 
to Christ any time you want to. You can only come when the 
Spirit of God is drawing and wooing you. I beg of you come 
now, before it is too late. . . ." 

"I am not going to press you to make a decision. . . . This 
is not something between you and Billy Graham. This is be- 
tween you and God. . . ." 

"But you say, 'Billy, why must I get up in front of my 
friends, and come down these aisles?' It is true, coming down 
these aisles and standing here docs not mean you are saved. 
But it is a seal upon your decision to accept Christ And Jesus 
said that if we confess Him before men He will confess us 
before His Father Who is in Heaven. . ..." 

"If you have friends or relatives, they'll wait on you. Whether 
you are young or old, rich or poor, white or colored, you know 
you need Christ in your life tonight. So now, while the choir 
sings softly, 'Just As I Am without One Plea,' you come and 
say, 'Billy, tonight I accept Jesus Christ/ " 

Giving the invitation and waiting for the response, Billy 
Graham says, are the hardest part of his preaching; those few 
minutes take more out of him than the preceding forty. After 
the first meeting in Glasgow, he wrote to Ruth: 

"Then came the moment of decision. There was a great hush 
and a great quiet. Would they come? Would they respond? At 
first, not a person moved. My heart began to sink a littie. My 
faith wavered, but only for a second. Then it all came flooding 
back to me that millions of people were praying and that God 
was going to answer their prayers. Great faith came surging 
into my heart and I knew they would come even before the 
first one moved. 

67 



C< I bowed my head and began to pray. When I glanced up 
people were streaming from everywhere. On the platform, I 
saw some of the ministers begin to weep. It had been a long 
time since Scotland had seen a sight like this: 14,500 under 
one roof and people streaming down every aisle to give their 
lives to Christ. Some were weeping openly. I knew that God 
was doing a genuine work. 

"I went back to the Inquiry Room and spoke to them. They 
were so eager, so quiet and so hungry." 

An editor of one of Scotland's largest newspapers said to me, 
"I'm a bit of a skeptic myself. But if I ever saw the light of 
God it was in the eyes of those people." 

Watching from the press table, a British newspaper colum- 
nist wrote: 

"It doesn't matter that he isn't a particularly good preacher. 
This is the ultimate spiritual energy that has always changed 
the world. And it made nonsense out of most of the speeches 
of the world's statesmen." 

To his wife, Billy Graham's conclusion was a verse from the 
One hundred Eighteenth Psalm: " This is the Lord's doing; 
it is marvelous in our eyes.' " 



68 



4: Few are chosen 



ON THE THIRD Sunday in May, 1940, twenty-one-year-old 
Billy Graham, ready for his graduation exercises from the 
Florida Bible Institute near Tampa, Florida, preached, as he 
regularly did, at a nearby trailer camp. Exactly fifteen years 
later, on the third Sunday in May, 1955, the British Court 
Calendar carried this announcement: 

'The Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh attended Divine 
Service this morning in the private Chapel, the Royal Lodge. 
Dr. William Graham preached the sermon." 

What his text was that morning at the trailer camp, Billy 
Graham cannot recall. His text in the Chapel at Windsor 
Castle was from the Book of Acts, Paul's words of reassurance 
to the crew of the gale-threatened ship in which he was a 
passenger: "Wherefore, sirs, be of good ch&r; for I believe 
God, that it shall be even as it was told me." 

As for the sermon, Billy Graham says it was essentially tibje 
same in both places, and I do not doubt it: "God's plan of 
salvation, with Christ and the Cross the heart of it" Essen- 
tially, he seldom preaches any other sermon and never, he says, 
effectively. And though Windsor is separated, not in miles 
only, by a great distance from Tampa and though his pulpit 

69 



manner before the royal family was considerably more sub- 
dued than anything his trailer-camp congregation was used to, 
it is safe to say that the quality which distinguished his preach- 
ing was the same in both places; he spoke "as one having 
authority." 

To understand how he came by that preaching authority it 
is necessary to go back to his preaching origins. These origins 
could hardly have been humbler, intellectually, or more con- 
servative, theologically, or better calculated, spiritually, to 
produce the kind of preacher he is. The power he has today is 
rooted in those beginnings. 

He was seventeen at his conversion, a senior in the Sharon, 
North Carolina, High School. His conversion did not result, for 
him, in a blinding revelation that he was called to preach. He 
was, in fact, slow to make up his mind not slow by what is 
ordinarily expected of a seventeen-year-old, but slow when one 
considers what extraordinary expectations were centered in 
him. He still had a lurking idea he might play baseball 
whetted by the few semipro games he actually played at $10 
to $15 a game. But during that summer he never was for long 
beyond the reach of influences which made it unlikely he would 
ever go in for so secular a pursuit and unlikely that he could 
forget that preaching might be, in the devout and weighted 
phrase, "God's will for him." 

Chief among these influences was the prayerful solicitude 
of his parents. His father had wanted to be a preacher himself. 
A quiet, gentle man, not given to pressuring or argument, his 
prayers at the family altar nonetheless left no doubt of the 
hope he held that his ambition would be realized in his son. 
Later, when his father saw that ambition being realized be- 
yond his expectations, he told how he had felt: 

"In these rfecent months, my mind has been made clear on 

a matter which has bothered me for forty-five years. When I 

was converted I felt immediately a desire to preach. I prayed 

for years for a way to be opened. But never once was there the 

70 



slightest encouragement from God. My heart burned and I 
wondered why God did not answer my prayer. Now I feel I 
have the answer. I believe my part was to raise a son to be a 
preacher. 

"That dawned on me when a letter came ,to me from the 
editor of the Boston, Massachusetts, Post saying that no one, 
not even Roosevelt or Churchill, ever had drawn as many 
people in that city as Billy. After I finished reading that letter 
I felt that the Lord was with my boy. My burden to preach 
was lifted and I now felt God had used me to give Him a son.'* 

Billy's mother, soon after his conversion, set aside a period 
every day for prayer devoted solely to Billy and the "calling" 
she believed was his. She continued those prayers, never miss- 
ing a day, for seven years until the last uncertainty was r&- 
solved and Billy was well on his preaching way. She still con- 
tinues them, though now her prayer with a text drawn from 
n Timothy 2:15 is that what he preaches may meet with 
God's approval: "Study to show thyself approved unto God, a 
workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the 
word of truth." 

Another influence turning Billy toward preaching was his 
friend Grady Wilson, who had followed close behind that night 
in the revival tent of Mordecai Ham. Grady, almost at once, 
had made up his mind to preach. Moreover, he started right 
off preaching, his platform manner and address and what the- 
ology he offered being carefully modeled on what he had seen 
and heard of Mordecai Hani. Some of Grady's early efforts 
did not stir in Billy any great urge toward emulation. On one 
memorable night when he borrowed Billy's watch and wound 
it, as he preached, until the stem broke he spoke on a God*s 
Four Questions," t^Vhig a full hour on questions One and Two 
and, by dint of considerable telescoping, half an hour on Three 
and Four. But the fact that Grady knew what he was going 
to do with his life, and was so sine that nothing of comparable 

71 



importance with preaching could possibly be done with it, un- 
doubtedly kept the issue alive and pressing in Billy's mind. 

It was partly because of his meeting with three fervent Bob 
Jones students and partly because his parents "hoped" he 
would attend a Bible college that Billy in the fall of 1936 
entered Bob Jones College in Cleveland, Tennessee now lo- 
cated in Greenville, South Carolina, as Bob Jones University. 
In this school, the chance that a serious-minded young man 
with pious background could escape the ministry or the 
mission field was probably as remote as in any educational 
community in America. Its founder and head was the Rev- 
erend Bob Jones, a famed Southern evangelist. It was a place 
steeped in religion; a school of one book: the Bible. Bible read- 
ing, prayer, and practice-preaching were every student's daily 
diet. Billy, although still no candidate for the ministry, was 
quickly signed up for a "major" in theology. 

But he did not stay long at Bob Jones College. In his un- 
certain frame of mind he found the religious rigidity of the 
place oppressive. Dr. Jones was a difficult taskmaster. There 
were rules and regulations galore; a too regimented social life; 
no intercollegiate sports. Billy, unfamiliar with such restraints 
and unhappy about them, was involved in an escapade or two 
which though he eloquently talked his way out of them 
left him marked as a possible "problem." He left at the end 
of the first semester. 

Before he left, however, he preached his first sermon. It was 
in a small Tennessee town where, as in many areas of the 
South, the young, raw preacher is given a more than ordinarily 
sympathetic hearing. The date had been arranged by Billy's 
roommate, Wendell Phillips, a graduate of the Moody Bible 
Institute in Chicago who had been paired with Billy in some- 
thing of the role of guardian. Since the school's rules prohibited 
the use of Wendell's car, the two went on foot an eleven-mile 
journey to the church. 

Billy's sermon was in the best tradition of the inexperienced: 
72 



"If Christ Had Not Come, What?'* Wendell Phillips gives this 
account of that first and, apparently, not altogether feeble 
effort: 

"Billy started in the easy, casual way he always uses, but 
suddenly as he went along I realized I had heard this sermon 
before, or at least had read it. A few weeks earlier I had sold 
some Moody colportage books to several of the students and 
here, before my eyes, was one of these sermons coming to life. 
Billy went right down the line in the outline and sermon and 
did a terrific job. But in his desire to be dramatic he gave me 
an awful scare. He stood in that pulpit and declared as force- 
fully as he knew, The coming of Christ was foretold centuries 
before the Messiah came, by type, by symbol, and by prophecy. 
The smoke from every Jewish altar was an index finger point- 
ing to the Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the 
world. One thousand years rolled by and still no Messiah. Two 
thousand years and still no Christ . . . Three thousand . . . 
Five thousand. . . .' 

"Right there I began shaking my head from my front row 
seat. He saw me, looked a bit perplexed, and quickly switched 
to another thought. After the meeting he said to me, Weadell, 
why did you shake your head like that?* I told him, *BDIy, I 
was afraid you wouldn't stop, as you rolled the centuries back,- 
short of fifteen to twenty thousand years, and those dear Bible- 
loving people who put 6000 B.C. or so as the date of Creation 
would never invite us back again." 

The school Billy moved to from Bob Jones College was 
the Florida Bible Institute at Temple Terrace, near Tampa, 
Florida, now called Trinity College and located at Clearwater, 
Florida. Billy's choice of the Florida Bible Institute may have 
been partly due to a long siege he had with the flu, partly due 
to his love of baseball and the lure of being near the training 
camps of several major-league teams. The likeliest explanation 
is that Wendell Phillips, his roommate at Bob Jones, had gone 

73 



on ahead and sent back a stream of letters which were both 
evangelically and climatically aglow. 

"I told him/' says Phillips, "that his decision was a matter 
for serious prayer: that schools were not the primary thing, but 
that knowing God's will was of the utmost importance. In 
every letter I referred him to Proverbs 16:9: 'A man's heart 
deviseth his way: but the Lord directeth his steps.' " 

Billy Graham is sure the Lord's directing hand was in his 
move to the Florida Bible Institute. It was there he made his 
decision to preach and there he began to lay hold of and, in 
practice, test the convictions which today give authority to his 
preaching. 

By technical educational standards, it was not much of a 
school. It was located in a large, well-appointed tourist hotel 
frequented during the winter season by well-to-do visitors who 
favored for their holiday a place with a religious atmosphere. 
The students of whom there were 75 when Billy enrolled 
worked out their expenses as members of the hotel staff. 

The school was surrounded by a beautiful championship 
golf course. Billy did a good deal of caddying at anywhere 
from 25 cents to $1 for 1 8 holes. Between customers he learned 
the game himself. He learned to play with a strange, cross- 
handed grip which latterly he has changed to the great im- 
provement of his game. 

Billy's school job was dishwashing. He worked at it five 
hours a day at 20 cents an hour. That just covered the dollar- 
a-day cost of his board and room. As a dishwasher he was the 
fastest "if not the best" in the school. "With near-boiling 
water, plenty of suds, I'd send an armful of dishes through 
with little more than one swish." He, alone among the dish- 
washers, kept five driers going. 

Head of the Florida Bible Institute was Dr. William T. 

Watson, minister of a Christian and Missionary Alliance 

church in Tampa. Preachers did all the teaching aided, now 

and then, by visiting ministers and evangelists. The doctrines 

74 



of the school were Biblical fundamentalism. But it was funda- 
mentalism which, for that period and locale, had considerably 
more than the average measure of tolerance in it There were 
Methodists and Presbyterians among the preachers, as well 
as some of more rigid beliefs. Dissenting points of view were 
given a fair and friendly hearing. There was considerable 
emphasis on Christian social service, if not overtly on the so- 
called social Gospel. 

But the Bible was the one indispensable textbook. A per- 
sonal religious experience, i.e., conversion, was regarded as the 
first of every Christian's credentials. Among the students, am- 
bition was thought of almost exclusively in terms of ambition 
for some form of full-time Christian service. Even the regard 
of the girl students for the boys generally involved religious 
considerations. 

This last fact soon involved Billy. Wendell Phillips, having 
gone on before, had spied out the land for Billy's benefit. 
The result was a girl reputedly as devout as she was obvi- 
ously beautiful. Billy fell hard and so did she. Before the end 
of the semester during which she had had first lien on Billy's 
time, thoughts, and limited funds they were unofficially en- 
gaged. Finally to put something of an official seal on it, Billy 
when the time of the annual class party came around 
instead of sencjing her the twenty-five-cent corsage customary . 
f or such occasions, went all-out and bougjit her one for fifty 
cents. It was love's lucre lost. She never wore it Without 
warning, but with a highly feminine sense of timing, she used 
this occasion to tell Billy why, in words something like this, 
she had thrown H over for another: 

Billy, she said, had shown himself, in the months she had 
known hi, as something of a religious ne'er-do-well. He 
seemed to have no particular aim f or his life, certainly no clear 
Christian purpose, and what aim he had he didn't work at 
very hard. He was pleasant, but irresponsible. All in all, she 
dkin't think that he would ever get very far or be very im- 

75 



portant. Another young man one of Billy's best friends, as 
it happened had everything Billy lacked: he stood well in 
his studies, he was going into the ministry, he expected to 
attend a theological school. This young man in whatever the 
campus language of the moment happened to be was for her, 
and vice versa. 

That, with the cosmic finality of undergraduate romance, 
"finished" Billy. To Wendell Phillips, home on sick leave, he 
wrote: "All the stars have fallen out of my sky. There is noth- 
ing to live for. We have broken up." Wendell was quick with 
consolation framed, as one would expect, in a bracket which 
gave his words authority. "Read Romans 8:28," he wrote: 
" 'And we know that all things work together for good to them 
that love God, to them who are the called according to His 
purpose ' " 

For Billy, who had spent most of several previous nights 
walking off his "desolation" on a nearby golf course, that was 
a prescription he could accept and one he knew how to take. 
It worked even beyond what Wendell Phillips had hoped. 
"I have settled it once and for all with the Lord," Billy wrote. 
"No girl or friend or anything shall ever come first in my life. 
I have resolved that the Lord Jesus Christ shall have all of me. 
I care not what the future holds. I have determined to follow 
Him at any cost." 

Although this consequence of unrequited love was only one 
of many factors in the process of making up his mind to 
preach, there is no doubt that, thereafter, Billy acted as a 
young man headed for the ministry should act. He buckled 
down to his studies. Most of all, he buckled down to a class he 
was taking in practice preaching. Not content merely to outline 
a sermon and, then trusting the Lord for the right words for 
the right place, preaching it from notes, he took to writing his 
sermons in full and then reading them aloud. 

Such rehearsing even in a place so favorably inclined to 
all kinds of sermons at all kinds of hours was not possible in 
76 



the congested dormitory. Billy's courage was not up to trying 
out in the chapel. He found his spot in a remote comer of the 
campus: a stump, well hidden by trees at the swampy edge of 
the Hillsboro River. There, hour after hour, he did his practic- 
ing. "If there were no kind words from the audience/' he says, 
"neither was there any criticism." When he found a sermon in 
a book of sermons he copied that with adaptations and 
preached it When visiting preachers came to the school he 
took notes of their pulpit mannerisms and tried them out 
gesture by gesture, oddity by oddity from his stump. From 
these services invocation to altar call to benediction he 
omitted nothing. 

"Many times, surrounded by darkness/' he says, "I called 
out from that cypress stump and asked sinners to come for- 
ward and accept Christ. There were none to come, of course. 
But as I waited I seemed to hear a voice within me saying, 
'One day there will be many.' " 

This went on for several months; Billy, meanwhile, increas- 
ing in preaching facility and discovering, also, that he liked it 
After one such solitary sermon had ended with the usual un- 
heard altar call, Billy suddenly found himself stirred by his 
own appeal. That night he walked the golf course again, 
"arguing with the Lord," sometimes out loud, against preach- 
ing: "I can't preach ... I couldn't learn to preach ... I 
don't want to preach ... No church would have me.** 

"God," said Billy, "talked right back: 'I can use you ... 
I need you . . . You make the choice, I will find the 
place. ...**' 

Finally, past midnight, Billy said, "All rigjit, Lord, if You 
want me You've got me." Later that night he wrote a one- 
sentence letter to his parents: "Dear Mother and Dad: I fed 
that God has called me to be a preacher." 

One man, meanwhile, had seen in Billy some possibilities 
above the ordinary. He was the Reverend John R. Minder, 
Dean of die Institute. 

77 



"If Dean Minder hadn't taken a hand in my life," says Billy 
Graham, "I'm not sure where I'd be or what I'd be doing." 

Minder taught a course in preaching in which Billy was 
enrolled. His doctrine was straight-from-the-shoulder funda- 
mentalism. Preaching, as he taught it, required speaking with 
authority. And, for the Christian preacher, the source of 
authority is the Bible. 

This emphasis on the Bible supplemented and strengthened 
Billy Graham's devotion to the church a devotion which was 
rooted in his , upbringing and has grown with the years. 
Increasingly during and since that period of Florida prepara- 
tion his ministry has been not only Bible-centered but also 
church-centered. 

To the preparation of sermons, Dean Minder had a simple, 
three-part approach: Know your subject; believe your message; 
speak it with conviction. "Not knowing your subject is the 
source of half-baked sermons: sermons which, like Ephraim, 
are 'a cake not turned.' Believing it halfway or in part or with 
reservations may be the way to produce an essay; it's no way 
to produce a sermon. And if there's no fire in the preacher 
there's likely to be none kindled in the people." Moreover, 
great learning and great preaching are not, necessarily, "hand- 
maidens." "Because you've hung a theological school diploma 
on the front of a pulpit doesn't necessarily mean that what' s 
spoken from behind the pulpit is the Word of God. In pre- 
paring to preach God's Word, there is no substitute for preach- 
ing it." The best evidence that it is God's Word that is being 
preached is that people are being converted "seeing sinners 
saved by grace." 

That is about the sum total of the homiletics Billy Graham 
has been exposed to. I am inclined to think he believes it 
contains the essence of almost all that is needful to effective 
evangelistic preaching. At any rate, his first sermons there at 
the Florida Bible Institute were shaped by the Minder outline 
of what a sermon ought to be. That is still the way he preaches, 
78 



As for conversions as the test of preaching, he has never had 
any other. Fifteen years after he had graduated from the 
Florida Bible Institute he said to the students in theology 
some 400 of them at Cambridge University in England: "A 
minister is not a minister unless he is winning men for Christ. 
If theological students don't think they can do that, they 
should quit studying for the ministry." 

The students, reported Time magazine, "applauded for 
three minutes." 

But it was not Dean Minder's teaching, says Billy Graham,, 
so much as "his Christian life his kindliness, his patience, his 
availability, when things went wrong, at all hours of the day 
or night," that gave Billy the lift he was in need of. It was to 
Dean Minder that Billy went, in the middle of the night, after 
his fiancee had thrown him over. It was nearly daybreak 
when he left. Billy remembers and cherishes the Scripture 
passage which the Dean gave him at parting, n Corinthians 
1:3-4: "Blessed be the Father of mercies and the God of all 
comfort; who comf orteth us in our affliction, that we may be 
able to comfort them that are in any affliction, through the 
comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted." 

One Sunday, after he had preached at a United Brethren 
church in Tampa, Billy was given an envelope containing 
$2.25 his "pay." It was the first time he had ever been paid 
for preaching and he was deeply disturbed. "How," he said, 
"can I make a charge for the Gospel?" He carried the envelope 
with its "conscience money" for several days and finally took 
his problem to Dean Minder. For this, too, the Dean had an 
authoritative answer from Scripture a long passage from 
the ninth chapter of I Corinthians, ending with the thirteenth 
and fourteenth verses: "Know ye not that they that minister 
about sacred things eat of the things of the temple and 'they 
that wait upon the altar have their portion with the altar? 
so did the Lord ordain that they that proclaim the 

79 



Gospel should live of the Gospel." Thus fortified, Billy kept 
the money. 

It was Dean Minder who, having heard of Billy's solitary 
preaching in the swamp, began, with some regularity, to find 
him a place in a pulpit. On the first such occasion, Billy had 
gone with Minder to visit a Baptist church not far from 
Palatka, Florida. When the minister of that church asked 
Minder to preach for him that evening, Minder, with Billy 
at his side, replied, "No, Billy Graham is preaching here to- 
night" 

Billy was shocked and frightened. "You don't understand," 
he said to Minder, "I've never really preached in my life." 

"That," said the Dean, "is what we are about to remedy. 
If you run out of anything to say before the time is up, 111 
take over." 

Billy preached. "I knew four sermons pretty well," he says. 
"But I used up all four of them in ten minutes." 

Minder has a different report: "He did a good job, begin- 
ning with a Scripture reading and following that with his own 
personal testimony. It is true, his sermon, by the clock, was 
under par. But when he finished he asked if there were any 
present who wished to accept Christ as Savior. Several raised 
their hands. Billy asked them, during the closing hymn, to 
come forward for prayer. One rough-handed woodsman who 
had raised his hand did not move. Billy left the pulpit and 
went down to talk with him. As Billy approached, the man 
said loudly, 'You don't need to thinV because you go to that 
school down there that you know everything.' Billy, surprised 
and embarrassed, backed away without replying. But that man 
and Billy's inability to say the right word troubled him for 
days." The Dean helped Billy see that perhaps God in this 
situation was taking him down a bit, after he had preached 
with such liberty, and giving him an early lesson in the sin 
of pride. 

Thereafter, Dean Minder saw to it that Billy preached 
80 



often: at rescue missions in Tampa, in trailer camps, in country 
churches, occasionally on street corners. Then, for one six- 
week stretch during his absence on the West Coast, he asked 
Billy to take the pulpit in his Tampa church, at $6 a Sunday. 
In preparation for this assignment Billy leaned heavily on the 
printed sermons of famous evangelical ministers. He read them 
silently and then out loud. He outlined them with his own 
additions. He preached them in practice, from the outline. 
They were the basic elements in his sermons, but by Sunday 
morning he had his own message and was ready to go. For 
every point he had a supporting Biblical passage, sometimes 
several. He talked fast, excitedly, and with conviction. He 
strode the platform. He always concluded with an altar call. 
By the time Minder returned to his church word had got 
around about "the boy preacher from North Carolina" and 
a miniature revival was in progress. 

After that the calls on Billy increased. Together with Minder 
he conducted a revival campaign in the north Florida town 
of Palatka. At the end of the first week's meeting, Minder 
said, "Billy, these people don't want to hear me. They're 
coming to hear you. You stay while I go back to the schooL 
Let's see what you do on your own." 

He returned a week later, on the concluding Sunday. The 
church was packed and a public address system had been 
rigged up to take care of the overflow crowd outside. As 
Minder came to the platform, Billy spoke to him. *Tm sup- 
posed to preach on the second coming of Christ and I'm 
scared, I've run out of sermons." "Lef s sit down," said Minder 
and during the half-hour song service with which the meet- 
ing began, they engaged in whispered conversation, Minder 
occasionally gesturing, Billy nodding bis head and thumbing 
through his Bible. When sermon-time came, Billy had an out- 
line, complete with Scripture references and, according to 
Minder, he preached with facility and fervor. 

The church in which Billy Graham conducted this revival 

81 



his first "Crusade" was Southern Baptist Billy was Pres- 
byterian. In Charlotte, he belonged to his parents' church 
the Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church. This, an off- 
shoot of the conservative Southern Presbyterian Church, was 
not, on most doctrinal matters, far removed from the ultra- 
conservative Southern Baptist. On one matter, however, it was 
removed by what, to the Baptists, was a great gulf: immersion. 

During a later Florida mission the rumor got around that 
"the Boy Preacher" had never been baptized by immersion. It 
was despite what seemed to be God's blessing on his preach- 
ing a damaging, not to say damning, report. Billy dealt with 
it Scripturally by confession and restitution. One night from 
the pulpit he confirmed the rumor: he had not been baptized 
by immersion. But, he said, at the end of the meeting along 
with the revival's converts he would be. On the following 
Sunday in a nearby lake he was, "A glorious experience." 

It was also in this church at the revival's end that, having 
been immersed, he became a Baptist and with the converts 
of the revival as his chief credentials he was later ordained 
to preach by the St. John's Baptist Association of northern 
Florida. 

When, in 1940, Billy graduated from the Florida Bible 
Institute, his religious faith was past the experimental stage; 
his commitment to what he believed to be God's will was un- 
conditional; the Bible, from having been a book of reference, 
had become, for him, God's Word, and he was thoroughly at 
home in it; his preaching had many lacks, but rooted in the 
Scriptures and his personal experience a note of authority 
was not one of them. 

Almost every day during his fi^al year, Billy managed to 
get in a long walk usually several miles. It was both exercise 
and devotion. As he walked, he prayed. The burden of his 
prayer was that God would make good use of his life. Some- 
times he felt so sure of the answer, so sure that God would 
"do exceeding abundantly, above all that we ask or think* 5 that, 
82 



in broad daylight, he would drop to his knees beside the road 
and offer a prayer of thanksgiving. 

"It is just as well I didn't know what was ahead. If I had 
known I might not have believed. What I did believe was that 
my times were in His hands. Since, there in Florida, I took 
those daily walks, praying as I went, I have never believed 
otherwise." 

At graduation the entry under his picture in the school 
yearbook read: "Billy Frank Graham, Charlotte, N.C. Activi- 
ties: President, Senior Class; Assistant Pastor; Chaplain, 
Tampa Trailer Court; Volley Ball, Swimming. Personal Aim: 
Evangelist. Favorite Song: Faith of Our Fathers. Favorite 
Scripture Verse: Jude 3: "I exhort you that ye should earnestly 
contend for the faith which was once delivered unto the saints." 

He was twenty-one. 



83 



5: A long way from Palatka 



WHEN IN LONDON in May, 1955, Billy Graham was 
announced as preacher before the Queen and the Duke of 
Edinburgh in the Royal Chapel at Windsor Castle, Punch, 
in the cause of British convention, had a word of counsel: 

" Tou are young, Dr. William!' the equerry cried, 
With procedural problems to grapple: 
It may be all right to be Billy outside, 
But not, if you please, in the Chapel.* " 

Some British newspapers, unable to get any account of this 
unprecedented occasion from Billy Graham, made up their 
own account. One printed several paragraphs from his sermon 
no part of which "quotation* he had said Another told how 
he had put his hand on the head of young Prince Charles and 
remarked, Tve a little boy at home, just like you.** Prince 
Charles was not at the service and Billy Graham never saw 
him, then or later. A third quoted "a member of the choir" as 
saying, "He shouted a lot In the choir we were practically 
deepened" There was no choir. 

Whatever might have been the verdict on what Billy 
Graham preached that morning, it can be taken for granted, 

85 



I think, that the way he preached, with hardly any gestures 
and in a voice that was not raised above the conversation level, 
would not have given offense to would, in fact, probably 
have met with the approval of not only Punch, but con- 
cerned clerics of the Church of England. He had come a long 
way from Palatka. 

When he appeared on Meet the Press in the spring of 1955, 
someone asked Billy Graham about a statement he had made 
some years before describing Europe as well-nigh past saving. 
His reply was: "I said a lot of things five years or so ago out of 
immaturity which I wouldn't say today.'* 

He also undoubtedly did some things out of immaturity he 
would not repeat. Once at the Chicago airport, when he was 
about to take ofE on a European mission with three colleagues 
of the Youth for Christ movement, he knelt by the ramp for 
an attention-getting farewell prayer service. I am sure he 
would not repeat that, even though, as he said then, he was 
supported by no less an authority than the Apostle Paul: "We 
kneeled down on the shore, and prayed. And when we had 
taken our leave one of another, we took ship; and they re- 
turned home again." Neither, I am sure, would he care to 
repeat the occasion when, after calling on President Truman, 
he let newspaper photographers persuade him to fasefei for a 
word of prayer on the White House lawn. 

He has also come a long way from Palatka in the manner 
of his preaching. I once listened to a recording of one of Billy 
Graham's sermons from his early days as a preacher. For me 
at least, what he preached was almost lost in the way he 
preached it. The way he preached was pretty much in the 
tradition of the "Hot Gospeller." His voice was strident. He 
was inclined to rant. The same sound effects in politics would, 
in most places, be called demagoguery. 

It brought to my mind a picture of the Billy Sunday I 
heard preach in my youth: coat off, tie off, his face dripping 
sweat, down on all fours, peering over the edge of the platform 
86 



as into the fiery pit, shouting, in raw and rasping voice, his 
defiance of the hosts of Hell. The difference in effect cm me 
may have been due to the difference between my age then and 
now, or perhaps to the lifetime of quiet, not often disquieting 
preaching to which I have been subjected. Or it may conceiv- 
ably have been due to the difference between Billy Graham 
and Billy Sunday as actors. 

At any rate, the shouting Billy Graham seemed to me not 
more, but less convincing. His drama did not seem very 
dramatic. In that earlier, more blood-curdling rendition, he 
left my blood uncurdled and me unstirred. 

Others have testified similarly, among them such an unques- 
tioned authority and uninhibited critic as Billy Graham's wife 
Ruth. On one of their first dates, Billy, as she expected he 
would, took Ruth to hear him preach. 

"He put me right on the front row," she says. "He had 
hardly started preaching before he started shouting. I thought 
'How can I sit through this?' But I did, and when he gave the 
invitation I was glad I did. Five people came forward. There 
wasn't much I could say after that But I still didn't believe it 
was because he shouted." 

Ruth Graham likewise does not believe that the effectiveness 
of her ^(Wfcand's preaching is increased by histrionics. "You 
never iespecMy liked my biographical sermons,** he once 
wrote her after preaching one. "But somehow I like to preach 
them. They are so human and down to earth and fit so many 
people's case." The reason 7or Ruth Graham's lack of en- 
thusiasm is that the biographical sermon, being episodic and 
anecdotal, tempts him to try to act it out One of his but 
not her earlier favorites is a sermon, still preached but 
substantially modified, on Daniel: 

"Daniel," he said in this earlier version, "was the prime 
minister of one of the powerful countries in the world and a 
pal of the boss the King of the Medes and Persians. Some 
jealous guys were but to get him, so they trained their spy- 



glass on him one morning when he was praying and had his 
Venetian blinds up. They tattled to the King. The King was 
on the spot, so he said to his lawyers, 'Find me a couple of 
loopholes so I can spring my pal, Dan.' They just couldn't 
find a loophole and the King just had to send Dan to the 
lions. 

"So what happens? Old Daniel walks in. He's not afraid. 
He looks the first big cat in the eye and kicks him and says, 
'Move over there, Leo. I want me a nice fat lion with a soft 
belly for a pillow, so I can get a good night's rest. . . .* " 

"As an actor," says Ruth Graham, "I'm afraid he is pretty 
much a ham. When he starts that kind of acting sermon, I 
usually start to squirm. If I'm anywhere in sight he is sure to 
see me and know what's the matter. Afterward, I'll say, 'Bill, 
Jesus didn't act out the Gospel. He just preached it. I thinV 
that's all He has called you to do!' " 

The noisier, more unrestrained manner of Billy Graham's 
earlier preaching was undoubtedly cut to the evangelical 
fashion favored by the Southern evangelists he heard and 
admired in his youth, and was in keeping with the evangelical 
mores which prevailed in the places where he first preached. 
A quiet evangelist in those times and places would have been 
so far out of the groove as to be ineffective, probably suspect. 
Gospel preaching, as Southern Baptists taught it, called for 
fire, and what better proof of fire than a fiery delivery? 

Although noticeably moderated, Billy Graham's sermonic 
manner of speech is still a long distance removed from the 
calm, cool, and collected delivery of those who preach a 
calmer, cooler, more collected faith. In a Crusade meeting he 
moves almost continually; He crosses and recrosses the plat- 
form in long strides: forward and back, up, down, and across. 
The distance the average sermon takes him, terrestrially, has 
been clocked at a mile and a quarter. 

I once remarked to him, after one of the first Crusade 
meetings I attended, that it was a little disappointing, after 
88 



hearing the appeal he always makes for quiet "nobody mov- 
ing, nobody whispering" to observe, as I had that night, how 
restless and unquiet, in his place on the platform, his song 
leader Cliff Barrows seemed to be. He suggested that, "to get 
a close-up of Cliff," I sit on the platform the next night, which 
I did. I soon saw, to my embarrassment, the reason for Cliff 
Barrows' "restlessness." 

Just before the sermon, while Beverly Shea sang, Billy 
Graham hooked one end of a long electric cord into his belt 
and attached it to the buttonhole mike he wears, like an over- 
sized silver tie clasp, on his necktie. The other end ran to the 
radio control room. Between the control room and the pulpit 
were some fifty feet of extra line curled neatly on a chair 
beside Cliff Barrows. For the sermon's forty to fifty minutes, 
it was his exacting job to pay out that line and draw it in as 
Billy Graham now fast, now slowly advanced and re- 
treated, to give him just enough line, but not too much, and 
all the time to keep it from getting entangled in his always 
moving, never predictable feet. 

On the radio, Billy Graham once spoke at a Walter Winchell 
pace. Latterly he has slowed a bit His staccato radio delivery 
was deliberately planned. 

"Why shouldn't it be?" he says. "H God expects me to give 
thought to what's in my sermons, as I know He does, isn't it 
likely He expects me to give some thought as to how to deliver 
them?" 

He listened, hours on end, to successful news commentators 
and radio personalities and finally concluded that, in so far as 
delivery had anything to do with it, radio ratings were probably 
helped by rapid-fire speech and, perhaps, a touch of Walter 
Winchell breathlessness. The development of that technique 
was not, for him, very difficult 

Neither, during his usual sermon, is there ever much pause 
between gestures. He moves from one to the next without inter- 
lude or breather. In the one that is most familiar he lifts up 

89 



the open Bible, first in one hand then in the other, sometimes 
with both, holding it aloft, as someone has said, "like a pizza 
from a hot oven.'* One observer given to statistics recorded 
during one sermon twenty-one gestures in the space of little 
more than a minute: "arms flailing, arms folded, arms akimbo, 
fists clenched, palms opened, slapping the Bible, the pulpit, 
the platform railing, finger pointing to Heaven, to Hell, at 
you " 

But when, at the end of his sermon, Billy Graham gives the 
invitation to "make a decision for Christ," then he does not 
move or gesture. He stands in one place behind the pulpit, his 
arms folded, his head slightly bowed, his chin cupped in one 
hand. He does not plead or cajole or argue or call on his 
associates to witness to the numbers coming, as he once did. 
He speaks quietly, soberly, without excitement or emotion. 

A great many influences have worked to moderate from its 
Florida beginnings his preaching manner, to subdue, some- 
what, his voice, slow down a bit his speaking pace, and smooth 
the rough edges from some of Ms colloquialisms: among these 
influences in addition to his wife time and travel, his con- 
tact with other ministers of many denominations whose faith 
he has found to be no less sure for being more quietly ex- 
pounded, his own maturing sense of the fitness of things. 

He has also learned to suit his speaking manner to the place 
and the occasion. I have seen him, gowned and hooded, preach 
from a pulpit of upper-bracket dignity and, for forty minutes, 
not noticeably change his upright stance or gesture more than 
mildly or come any closer to shouting than such a congrega- 
tion would be accustomed to which would not be close. For 
a week, during the All-Scotland Crusade in Glasgow in the 
spring of 1955, he conducted early morning devotions over 
the BBC network. During those fifteen meditative minutes 
each morning, he never raised his voice above conversation 
level and he spoke so slowly that, to anyone accustomed to 
90 



hearing him elsewhere, it sounded like hesitation which, 
knowing him, Fm sure it wasn't. 

When, early in 1954, he went to London to begin the 
Greater London Crusade, he had been billed by the press as a 
"Hot Gospeller" and the reporters who went the first nights 
to the Harringay Arena were looking for "a ranting, tearing 
show/ 5 Seldom has the press been more totally crossed up. 
Looking back on it, the London Times, archguardian of, 
among other things, British dignity, declared: 

"It is important and no more than fair to Mr. Graham 
to say that if his lavish barrage of advance publicity has given 
rise to some suspicion that the Greater London Crusade would 
turn out to be lacking in taste, discretion and (not to strain 
the point) alien to the British way, the event was most demure. 

"There are preachers already at work in Britain, particu- 
larly, perhaps, in Nonconformist connections, who are not 
only overswept by more passion but who command more of 
the demagogic parts than Mr. Graham." 

Eighteen months later, in England in the fall of 1955, 
Billy Graham, on the invitation of the 400 undergraduate 
members of the Cambridge Inter-Collegiate Christian Union 
CICCU, popularly called "Kick-You" by both its friends 
and foes conducted a week's series of meetings at Cambridge 
University. 

'It was one of the most difficult and hardest weeks of my 
life," Billy Graham wrote to Ruth. "History may say that it 
was one of the most profitable." 

The meetings were held in the University church. The 
crowds overflowed and filled several other churches tied in by 
telephone. Five hundred students more than twice as many 
as during the still-remembered meetings there of Dwigbt L. 
Moody made decisions far Christ "Indifference has been 
broken down and at least for a few days all Cambridge has 
been frdVfag of Jesus Christ As I go to bed tonight, I go with 

91 



peace in my heart and a great joy overflowing me for the 
privilege of serving Him this week." 

During that week a correspondent of the United Press 
cabled this description of the Billy Graham whom Cambridge 
saw and heard: 

"A new Billy Graham changed from serge suit to cap and 
gown and tried out his commonf oiks preaching on the intellec- 
tually elite this week. The meeting of minds was polite, but 
enthusiastic. 

"The evangelist came with his North Carolina drawl and 
dog-eared .Bible into the big-brain country of Cambridge 
University. His style has changed, his listeners have changed 
and his surroundings have changed. The effect has been the 
same. 

"Conservative and intellectual Cambridge turned out whole- 
heartedly. Congregations packed Great St. Mary's Church 
from the first night and overflowed into extra seats in the 
aisles. The listeners filled two other Cambridge churches. The 
wire network carried his talks to 15 other universities through- 
out England, Scotland, and Ireland. 

"This wasn't sweaty Harringay where Graham attracted 
12,000 Londoners nightly for weeks in 1954. It wasn't vast 
Wembley where he drew hundreds of thousands last year. This 
was cloistered Cambridge and Graham adapted his style to fit. 
He changed to academic robes. He spoke quietly. He came 
without ballyhoo. The pitch of his voice is lower. The content 
is more intellectual. 

"But the message of Christianity was unaltered." 

Billy Graham once took me to his study in his former home 
in Montreat, North Carolina. It was a comfortable, pine- 
paneled, second-floor room, supplied with a work desk, type- 
writer, dictaphone, and tape recorder. Several shelves were 
stacked with his sermons he has several hundred in outline 
in black looseleaf notebooks. The room was well stocked with 
books, none of them recent fiction; few nonreligious, save a 
92 



secondhand edition of Shakespeare, several other standard 
classics, and a number of biographies. There were scores of 
books of devotional bent and religious experience and of 
sermons by preachers ancient and modern the modern ones 
being chiefly sermons of evangelists. Nearest at hand were a 
Concordance and the Bible in several translations. 

He was spending, then, four to five hours a day in his study. 
But studying is a practice he pursues, I think, less from pleasure 
than from apprehension. He told me that, several years before, 
he had come upon a statement by the late Senator William 
Edgar Borah that William Jennings Bryan would have been 
President of the United States "if he had read more and spoken 
less.' 5 

"That hit me with a terrific jolt," he said. "I suddenly 
realized I was speaking more and reading less. Maybe I was 
starting to coast a bit mentally. Since then I've spent more 
time in this study and got in more hours of reading on my 
trips." 

There is little tangible evidence in his sermons that he 
reads a great deal outside the Bible, and some magazines. 
Almost every radio sermon on his Hour of Decision begins with 
or has somewhere near the lead a news peg on which, to 
start off with at least, he hangs his theme: the figures on 
juvenile delinquency, the suicide of a film star, the explosion 
of a hydrogen bomb, comments on the state of the world by 
Eisenhower, Churchill, Eden, J. Edgar Hoover, Toynbee, 
Niebuhr, even the Pope. But quotes or illustrations from cur- 
rent books or literature in general are few and far between. 
He has had, up to recently, no help in research, the gathering, 
classifying, and filing of sennonic material. 

In addition to newspapers and magazines, most of his non- 
Biblical illustrations are either drawn from his own recent 
experiences the stories of converts, comments of persons, 
often ministers, he has lately met, travel items or are of the 
home, the family, and the home-town variety. When, as lie 

93 



often does, he used his wife and children to illustrate a point 
in a sermon he was preaching in his home church in North 
Carolina, his daughter Ann, five, whispered to her grand- 
mother, "Why doesn't he keep all that to himself?" If he did, 
quite a few of his sermons would lose quite a bit of their 
humor and warmth. Balshazzar, the family's Great Pyrenees 
dog so named because, like his namesake, he is inclined to 
gluttony also serves an occasionally illustrative purpose. So, 
in sermons I have heard, do North Carolina sunrises, sunsets, 
and watermelons, his father's dairy farm and the 3 A.M. 
milting, the goat he had as a boy, his golf game, a country 
club near Asheville "that's harder to get into than lots of 
churches." 

Some illustrations he uses repeatedly. One of them is on 
faith: 

"Suppose I were driving along the road at fifty miles an 
hour and I came to the crest of a hill. Would I slam on my 
brakes, stop my car, get out, walk to the top of the hill and 
look over to see if that road continues? No, I wouldn't. I would 
trust the highway department of that state. I would continue 
at my normal rate of speed, secure in the knowledge that the 
road went on even though I couldn't see it. I would accept it 
on faith. So it is with saving faith in Christ." 

Another concerns the "surrender" required for conversion. 

"I heard about a man some years ago who was rolling a 
wheelbarrow back and forth across the Niagara River above 
Niagara Falls on a tightrope. He put a 200-pound sack of 
dirt in the wheelbarrow and rolled it over and then rolled it 
back. He turned to the crowd: 'How many of you believe I can 
roll a man across?' 

"Everybody shouted. One man in the front row was very 
emphatic in his professed belief. The performer pointed to him. 
'You're next.' 

"Well, you couldn't see that fellow for dust. He actually 
didn't believe it. He said he believed it; he thought he believed 
94 



it But he didn't believe enough to get into that wheelbarrow. 

"Just so with Christ. There are many who say they believe 
in Him, that they will follow Him. But they have never actually 
committed their lives, surrendered themselves 100 per cent to 
Him. They've never gotten into the wheelbarrow." 

At least half a dozen times in the course of one Crusade, 
I have heard him use the platform on which he stood as an 
illustration of the need for making an open decision for Christ 
He stepped down and pointed at it. "Now this looks like a 
good platform." He shook the railing. "I believe if s a well-built 
platform." He put his foot, tentatively, on the step. "But I have 
to step on it before I know. I have to trust this platform 
enough to try it. You may think that Christ is all the Bible says 
He is. But you'll never know until you decide to try Him. 
That's what we are going to ask you to do right here, tonight" 

Not in illustrations only, but in the way he phrases his 
ideas, there is repetition in Billy Graham's sermons. He says 
often, "If you can commit a sin and get away with it, ni close 
this Bible, quit preaching and go back to a North Carolina 
farm." Not many of his Crusade sermons go by without tfcds: 
"The Bible teaches you have a body. Your body has eyes, ears, 
nose, hands, feet The Bible also teaches you have a sooL 
Your soul has certain attributes such as conscience, memory, 
intelligence. Your soul is the real you* Your body goes to its 
grave. But your soul lives on. The Bible teaches your soul wiH 
live on forever in one of two places: it will live on in Heaven 
or in HeLL" 

Charles H. Spurgeon, the famous English preacher of the 
nineteenth century, once remarked that a sermon "is not a 
sermon until it has been preached ten times." Benjamin Frank- 
lin, a great admirer of the eighteenth-century evangelist George 
Whitefield, said that the sermons Whitefield had "often 
preached*' were invariably improved in "every aoceat, every 
emphasis, every modulation" by the "infrequent repetition." 
Dwight L. Moody preached many of his sermons more than 

95 



a hundred times. "If I find a sword effective, why shouldn't I 
use it?" 

Billy Graham has found that it does not work quite that way 
with his preaching. It is true he preaches some of his sermons 
repeatedly. But only after he has "reimmersed" himself in the 
subject and "rekindled" his urge to speak on it. "The first time 
I preach a sermon, it is out of my heart and I often am on fire 
with it. Sometimes, when I try to preach that same sermon 
again, I've got everything: all the ideas, all the illustrations, 
all the Scripture passages everything except the fire. I can 
preach the same sermon the same way, but if God's hand is 
lifted, it is sounding brass and tinkling cymbal," 

It is, I suppose, because he does not repeat a sermon until 
he feels he has recaptured its fire that his "repeats" even the 
"repeats" of illustrations and ideas seldom, in the usual 
sense, sound repetitious. 

Perhaps if he had had more training in the techniques of 
preparing sermons, a Billy Graham sermon would have more 
of those characteristics which, by literary and structural 
standards, would mark it as "a finished product." In the well- 
rounded, well-put sense, there is little style to his preaching, 
very few phrases which, by the way they are turned, merit 
being called striking, very few of those carefully contrived 
epigrams often alliterative so dear to the hearts of some 
preachers. Perhaps he could if he tried. I have not found any 
evidence that he tries. Perhaps if he did try his preaching would 
lose some of its authority in the process. 

This does not mean that Billy Graham's sermons do not 
reveal preparation, but only that the kind of preparation they 
reveal is obviously aimed at some other effect than literary 
excellence or intellectual titillation. His sermons are what one 
would expect from his kind of preparation, and the authority 
with which he preaches them derives, in fact, from the fact 
that he prepares them that way. 

Whatever the process lacks in hours spent in general read- 
96 



ing and research, construction and phrasemaking, there is no 
lack of hours spent in their devotional preparation. His ser- 
mons, in fact, are a devotional production: born of and satu- 
rated in Scripture reading and prayer. Most of his sermon 
ideas come in the morning hour- or hours he spends in 
private devotions. There he will be reading a Bible passage 
one he has read, no doubt, many times, and perhaps preached 
on before when, he says, "a wholly new line of thought will 
suddenly open up like a curtain raised on a view I had never 
seen before.*' 

Once after reading and rereading, during Holy Week, the 
various accounts of the Cmcifixion, he wrote to Ruth Graham: 
"This morning I think I could preach several weeks on the 
subject. There seems to be no limit to the height or depth of 
the atonement. It is like so much of the Scriptures yet, I 
think, much more so: a diamond with a thousand facets, each 
sending out a brilliant ray, yet different from all the rest And 
when I preach about it my forty minutes pass so quickly. . . ." 

When, in his Bible reading, such a "curtain" is raised he 
will read the same passage in all the translations he has avail- 
able: the King James, the American Revised, the Revised 
Standard and, if it is from the New Testament; the Phillips and 
the Williams translations. He will turn to Cruden's Concord- 
ance and Nave's Topical Bible, this last, regarded by some as 
outmoded, one of his indispensable aids, and run down and 
read related passages. By the time, hours later, he reaches for 
the dictaphone his rough notes and several open Bibles in 
front of him to get down a draft outline, he is, as he says, 
"immersed in the subject and saturated in Scripture.** 

His sermon outlines that I have seen have had an average 
of fifteen to twenty Scripture references some of which, of 
course, he does not use* One of them had thirty-nine. 

"What other authoritative source book is there for the 
preacher," he says, "than the Bible? You can quote Doctor 
Somebody or Professor So-and-So and many preachers do. 

97 



But good and interesting as they may be, helpful as they some- 
times are, such quotations can't be a substitute for Scripture. 
It's not man's word people are hungry to hear preached, if s 
God's Word," 

He never starts to dictate an outline until, first, he has 
"threshed it out with God." In fact his sermons are as saturated 
with prayer as with Scripture. Often, dictating an outline to his 
secretary generally pacing the floor he will suddenly switch, 
without stopping his pacing, from dictating to praying and 
then, just as suddenly, resume the dictation. He says, "Either 
a sermon is of the Holy Spirit or it isn't. If it isn't, I want to 
know it and I won't want to preach it. Praying about it is the 
only way I know to find out." 

Finding out is not always easy. He writes in his diary of 
"agonizing" over a sermon. "All day long," he wrote to Ruth 
Graham, "I have been praying as to what my message should 
be tonight. In my devotions, I have finally decided that I am 
to speak on faith." Before the opening of one mission he wrote: 
"I seriously doubt if I have ever preached with more fear and 
trembling, with such a sense of inadequacy and unprepared- 
ness." 

Sometimes after he has preached he questions whether his 
prayers in preparing the sermon were answered as he thought: 

"I don't think in the past year I have had a greater struggle 
preaching than tonight. I wanted the floor to open up and let 
me fall through. Only a few people came forward to receive 
Christ at the end of the service. I have come back to the room 
deeply disturbed, discouraged. I sometimes wonder why I am 
ever in the ministry." 

His usual testimony, however, is very different. "The Lord 
thrilled my heart in the preparation of the message." "It was 
thrilling as I worked, for it seemed the Spirit of God swept over 
me time after time, giving me assurance." "As I dictated I felt 
the presence of God there in the room with me." 

His most frequent comments have triumph and thanksgiving 
98 



in them: "I felt the presence and the power of God.** The 
Lord had laid it on my heart to speak on I Peter 2:1-5. I 
could sense that the Holy Spirit was working mightily." "Last 
night, in spite of great physical weakness and this severe cold, 
I had great liberty. To God Be the Glory." "I sensed this was 
going to be a glorious night. I felt good in my soul. As I stood 
in the pulpit I felt more power than any night before, and all 
through the sermon I was quietly thanking God for the liberty 
He gave." 

There was once, in the United States, a considerable com- 
pany of so-called "preachers" who claimed that the only prep- 
aration required for their kind of "f aith preaching" was for 
them to open their mouths, which thereupon God filled with 
the right words. Although Billy Graham does not belong to 
that "school," I am sure he believes it can happen provided 
the preacher, before opening his mouth to the Lord, had, for 
a considerable period before, opened his heart and mind. And 
if in his case the Lord is not often called on to provide ready- 
made sermons on the spot, Billy Graham is sure that, not in- 
frequently, He does intervene and change, sometimes near the 
last minute, his preaching plans. 

"Time after time," he says, "the Lord has made it clear that 
the sermon I was preparing for a particular night was not the 
sermon I ought to preach; that another message was in order. 
He knows the need of that particular audience better than I do. 
So I don't argue. I change." 

It is in keeping with this readiness, on short notice but on 
good authority, to make a quick shift, that Billy Graham 
when he addresses civic clubs or other special groups dislikes 
to be assigned a specific subject. He prefers to keep his "free- 
dom to change at the last minute." So far, he says, "the Lord 
has never let me down." 

There is, I thrnV, less danger that the Lord will let him 
down than that by doing too much and studying too little- 
he may spread himself too thin and thus let the Lord down. 

99 



That is one of Billy Graham's great concerns and accounts 
for his plan for longer periods of "recharging" between major 
preaching missions. 

Meanwhile, it is evident that in his preaching, Billy Graham, 
in every particular, has come a long way from Palatka save 
only in the essentials of the faith which and by which he 
preaches. 

"There's nothing about my preaching that can't be improved 
on,'* he says, "save the Gospel I try to preach." 

"Personally," said a minister whose church had reluctantly 
gone along in support of a Billy Graham Crusade, "I don't 
care too much for Billy Graham or for what he preaches or 
for the way he preaches it. But I'm inclined to thinfr the 

Almighty does." 



100 



6: Out of the South 



IT IS POSSIBLE that Billy Graham might have become the 
kind of evangelist he is even though he had not been born, 
raised, and had his early education in the South. But it is not 
very likely. It is also possible he anight have become what he 
is even though, for his later education and the starting of his 
career, he had not gone North. But that is not very likely either. 
And it is just as unlikely he would be what he is if somewhere 
South or North he had not met Ruth McCue Bell and married 
her. 

The South into which, in Charlotte, North Carolina, on 
November 9, 1917, William Franklin Graham, Jr., was born 
was probably no more religious per capita than other parts 
of the country. Worldliness and the sins accruing therefrom 
were at least as widespread as anywhere else and the incidence 
of worse sins some of them indigenously Southern was at 
least normal. Southerners, so inclined, went about their sinning 
with no less ardor and, perhaps, more flair than their wayfar- 
ing kindred elsewhere. 

It was not, however, the worldly South but, separated from 
it by a great gulf, the South of undiluted orthodoxy into which 
Billy Graham was born. That South, after its manner and with 

101 



its alleged limitations, was definitely more religious than the 
U.S, average. 

In that South, evangelism the tent-meeting, repentance- 
provoking, conversion-producing kind of evangelism had lost 
little of its eighteenth- and nineteenth-century vigor and the 
peripatetic, fire-breathing, love-offering evangelist little of his 
one-time repute. This was the one area of twentieth-century 
America where Jonathan Edwards and George Whitefield 
would probably have felt religiously at home, and where, with- 
out much change in the theology of their eighteenth-century 
preaching or in the way they preached it, they could have been 
sure of a large, responsive following. 

I am inclined to think that Wesley and Moody would have 
been less at home there unless to stir the consciences of the 
presumed-elect as in their day in England and Scotland they 
stirred them. Wesley and Moody preached a New Testament 
God of love who drew men to Him, whereas the God of the 
revivalist South was, oftener, the Old Testament God of judg- 
ment who drove them by fear. There were inescapable social 
implications to the doctrine of personal salvation which Wesley 
and Moody preached. Their Kingdom of Heaven was, often, 
uncomfortably tikis-worldly, not merely an Apocalyptic es- 
cape. The prophetic succession in which they stood was not 
so much that of Ezekiel and Darnel, given to trances and pro- 
nouncing doom, as of Amos declaring, "Let judgment roll 
down as waters, and righteousness as a mighty stream" and 
Micah, "What doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, 
and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?" 

But whatever, in the estimate of some, may be said to be 
lacking, the fact is that the religion of the fundamentalist South 
was and is essentially what most of evangelical Protestantism 
once was and, by the unrepealed assertions of its basic creeds, 
still professes to be. Today, many of those essentials, instead of 
being repealed, are being returned to. It is possible that one 
day our one-time modernists will, as a consequence of that 

102 



return, have achieved sufficient Christian grace to admit their 
debt to the so-called fundamentalist South for having kept 
these essentials alive and vital until, in God's good time, a neo 
or some other orthodoxy came along to make them, once more, 
intellectually acceptable. It is even possible that Reinhold 
Niebuhr, in the upper intellectual reaches, and Billy Graham, 
among the rest of us, will in historical retrospect, be bracketed 
as evangelists of the same revival. 

At any rate, in the South into which Billy Graham was born, 
religion, when it took, took harder than anywhere else in the 
country. Once taken, it was a matter of more unrelieved, not 
to say of more deadly, earnestness. First claim on almost every 
youth of more than ordinary promise was God's. It was as 
unlikely that such a youth could avoid considering, with paren- 
tal blessing, a career as preacher, evangelist, or missionary as 
that, elsewhere, consideration of any such career would be 
anything but avoided that, too, with parental blessing. One 
day in the Graham home, a visiting preacher sent twelve-year- 
old Billy on his way with the remark: u Run along, little fellow, 
you'll never be a preacher." I am sure Billy's parents were as 
chagrined and disturbed by that as parents in the average, 
casual church family would have been amused that anyone had 
given such an idea a thought and pleased that it was not meant 
to be taken seriously. 

Billy Graham's father, William Franklin Graham, ST., six 
feet two, like his son, only lankier, was born and raised on his 
father's prosperous dairy farm on the outskirts of Charlotte. 
He still lives there; the dairy farm is still prosperous, but it is 
no longer outskirts. All but 75 of the family acres, once num- 
bering 400, have been sold for real estate development With 
his younger son, Mdvin, he still runs the dairy. How well 
"Frank" Graham has prospered, he is too Scotch to let his 
family have an inkling, partly, no doubt, from fear lest if they 
did, his Scotch frugality could no longer be so faithfully in- 
dulged. 

103 



Frank Graham's religious raising was Methodist, and in a 
Methodist revival in his youth he was "soundly converted." 

"Frank," said a friend the next day, "your face looks as 
though you'd been converted." 

"That's what's happened," said Frank Graham. 

"Do you suppose," said his friend, "you could help me get 
what you've got?" 

He could, and there, on a Charlotte street corner, he did. 

"I'd rather have Frank Graham praying for me," a promi- 
nent preacher said recently, "than almost anyone else I know." 

Both Billy Graham's grandfathers fought for the Confeder- 
acy in the Civil War, One of them, Benjamin CoflEey, lost his 
right eye and his right leg at the battle of Gettysburg. Once in 
the summer of 1955 after lunching with President Eisenhower 
at Gettysburg the President asked Billy Graham if he had ever 
visited the battlefield. When he said no, the President forth- 
with took him on a personally conducted tour in the course of 
which, explaining the battle's strategy, he asked if Billy Graham 
remembered his grandfather's regiment. When he gave it, the 
President took him to the approximate spot where his grand- 
father had fought and fallen. 

Billy Graham's mother was Morrow Coffey named Mor- 
row as her father had planned to name the prospective minister- 
son which she proved not to be. She was Presbyterian, well 
grounded at an early age in the Shorter Catechism, given to 
memorizing Scripture passages, and, from her own girlhood 
experiences, a believer in a God who "gives direct answers to 
prayer." She was never, in the usual and prescribed sense, "con- 
verted," a fact which despite her faith and works is, I sus- 
pect, a cause for regret, perhaps even a little uneasiness, among 
the converted Grahams. 

It should be said that because of Billy Graham's early Pres- 
byterian inculcations from his mother, also because of his wife's 
unassuming Presbyterianism, he has remained at least as much 
a Presbyterian as he has become a Baptist Today in fact he 
104 



is invited to more Presbyterian functions than Baptist. He has 
addressed the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church, 
U.S. (Southern), the General Assembly of the Church of 
Scotland, and in 1956 before the General Assembly of the 
Presbyterian Church, U.S.A. (Northern), gave the opening 
address at the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the 
founding of the Presbyterian Church in this country. 

To return to his parents, it should be said that it was not 
entirely evangelical considerations which first drew Frank 
Graham and Morrow CoflEey together. From his side there was 
the fact that she as a family friend described her was "a 
choice parcel of Southern femininity* and, from her side, there 
was the fact that he "drove around in one of the best buggies 
in the section." 

Billy Graham is the oldest of four children: two boys and 
two girls. The Graham home was a place in which from the 
standpoint of both industry and religion little was left to 
chance, Billy began to help with the milking when he was eight 
In grammar and high school his day began at 3 A.M. with up 
to twenty-five cows to millc before school. After school he often 
plowed until dark. It is understandable why, on the one hand, 
he was known as one of the fastest milkers in Mecklenberg 
County and, on the other hand, why, with such a farm pro- 
gram, his schoolwork was considerably below average. When 
in high school he made the baseball team and began, nights, 
to "go tooling around Charlotte" in the family car he f dl so 
far below average that there was some doubt he could graduate 
with his class which, however, he did. 

The family belonged to the Associate Reformed Presby- 
terian Church which, among other Conservative practices, 
was a psalm-singing church. *1 was well into my teens," says 
Billy Graham, "before I had hearji a hymn sung in church.*' 
The finer points of Christian nurture were left to his mother. 
Already, at ten, she had helped him memorize and sought, no 
doubt, to help him understand the questions and answers of 

105 



the Shorter Catechism from Number 1 : "What is the chief end 
of Man?" through Number 107: "What doth the conclusion 
of the Lord's Prayer teach us?" It is, I think, a reasonable 
assumption that some measure of Billy Graham's authoritative 
no **ifs," "buts," or "maybes" kind of preaching derives from 
the authoritative answers, totally devoid of qualification, which 
the Shorter Catechism provides for each of its 107 crucial 
questions. 

Billy's mother also encouraged him to take part beginning 
with a "sentence prayer" rehearsed in advance in the family's 
daily devotions and to memorize Scripture verses. His first was 
Proverbs 3 :6: "In all thy ways acknowledge Him and He shall 
direct thy paths." 

Other aspects of his Christian nurture and discipline were 
dealt with less gently by his father. Once, for fidgeting during 
the undoubtedly overlong sermon, Frank Graham solemnly 
took off his broad leather belt and, without leaving the church, 
gave Billy a well-remembered whacking. When one day Billy 
turned up at the dairy barn with a cud of chewing tobacco in 
his cheek, his father although he chewed tobacco himself 
gave him another notable whipping, and summarily fired the 
hired man, an old family retainer and friend, who gave Billy 
"the stuff." 

Frank Graham's disciplines were not only punitive but some- 
times precautionary. Thus, when the sale of beer was legalized 
in North Carolina, he went to town and bought two bottles. 
Back at the farm, he opened them and forced Billy and one 
of his sisters to "guzzle." The results were all that could be 
expected. Billy Graham has not touched liquor since. 

The religion of Billy Graham's parents is such that they have 
taken his phenomenal ministry very much in their stride as 
though this was the precise answer they had expected all along 
to their prayers for a preacher-son, 

"Billy," says his father, 4 1s doing just what he's supposed 
to be doing, and if he weren't the Lord would soon clip his 
106 



wings. The Lord just put His hand on him for this kind of 
work. You take Melvin, Billy's younger brother. He's a power- 
ful good dairy farmer. He's also doing what the Lord intended 
him to do. He's just the same kind of Christian boy as his 
brother." 

His mother says, "So far as I can see, Billy really has this 
one big God-given talent and no more. I just couldn't imagine 
him sitting still in one place as the pastor of one local congre- 
gation. No, God has set the road for Billy and that's where 
he's going." 

"I want to thank God," said Billy Graham in one of his 
recent radio sermons, "for a Christian father and mother who 
faithfully, both by precept and example, brought me up to 
reverence and worship God. I only hope that I may have as 
effective an influence on my children as my parents had on me." 

Meanwhile, by the time he graduated from Sharon High 
School in Charlotte in 1936, Billy was dutifully if not notably 
religious, regular in his attendance on and observance of "the 
appointed means of grace." He was more than ordinarily good- 
looking, was popular with the girls, had a car to get around in, 
and, despite his farm duties, got around in it and was a con- 
siderably above-average baseball player. 

This was the summer of Billy's conversion under the revival 
ministry of Mordecai Ham. Despite the certainty of that experi- 
ence the story of which is told in an earlier chapter it ap- 
pears that baseball was still the nearest thing he had to a pur- 
pose in life. He had felt that way since grammar school a 
feeling that was fanned into a considerable flame when Babe 
Ruth, on a visit to Charlotte, shook Billy's hand and assured 
the boy who wanted to be a first baseman that he certainly had 
the build for it Once when, in an unexpected display of talent, 
he won a school oratorical contest, the school principal told 
him, with his hopeful parents beaming, "Billy, you've got it 
in you to be a great orator." To which Billy's deflating answer 
was: "Thanks. Fd rather be a great first baseman.* 5 

107 



He could have played first base for Sharon's semipro team 
that first summer out of high school. His fielding was good. He 
batted around .275. There was an offer of $10 to $15 a game. 
But the local team's finances were shaky; games were too few 
and far between. So, not anxious to continue the 3 A,M. milking 
routine, Billy along with Grady and T. W. Wilson, his closest 
friends took the two-hour indoctrination lecture and the two- 
day trial run that turned him, for the summer, into a Fuller 
Brush man. He went, however, considerably beyond the re- 
quirements of that indoctrination starting every day's round 
with prayer and praying as he went from customer to customer. 
He implemented his praying by working early and late, soon 
outdistancing the Wilson brothers, and winding up the summer 
outselling every other salesman in the Carolinas, including the 
district manager. 

"I believed in the product," he says, "and sincerity is the 
biggest part of selling anything including the Christian Plan 
of Salvation." 

Billy Graham's conversion having "taken" as conclusively 
as it did and his parents, in the wake of that experience, having 
had their prayerful hope for a preacher-son rekindled, it was 
almost inevitable that that fall after high school he would enroll 
in a Bible schooL Although there are many such schools in the 
North, their influence in the South has been much more per- 
vasive. Some are hardly known beyond their immediate local- 
ity; few have anything much in the way of general academic 
standing; most of them exist as faith ventures on a hand-to- 
mouth basis. 

But they have been and are a potent influence. It is due in 
considerable degree to them that the beliefs and practices of 
Southern fundamentalism have so largely escaped the ravages 
of modem science, historical research, Biblical criticism, and 
have been passed on so generally unsullied from one believing 
generation to the nest 

I have told in another chapter how Billy Graham enrolled 
108 



in such a school Bob Jones College "just in case," as his 
parents put it, he might be "called" to the ministry. I have also 
told there how he moved on from Bob Jones to the Florida 
Bible Institute near Tampa, Florida, how he was "called" to 
preach and how he started preaching. When, after three and a 
half years, Billy Graham in 1940 graduated from the Florida 
Bible Institute he won a certificate as a Bible-trained student 

He then became a Southern Baptist and, as a consequence 
of considerable revivalist success as the "Boy Preacher," won 
ordination as a Bible-believing minister at the hands of ,<a 
theologically if not academically meticulous Association of 
Florida Baptists. 

. When he got back to Charlotte, invitations from a number 
of communities to conduct revivals were waiting for him. One 
of them, to York, Pennsylvania, he accepted and there, in the 
summer of 1940, he conducted, with moderate success, his first 
revival on his own and his first meeting in the North. 

At twenty-one, with the Boy Preacher angle good for a 
few years more, he could undoubtedly have moved on from 
there into what must have looked, from where he stood, like 
"big-time" evangelism. It is possible since, we are told, with 
God all things are possible that he might have gone on from 
such beginnings into what he has become. But it is far more 
probable that, instead, he would by now be shaping up as an- 
other in the evangelistic succession of Mordecai Hams who 
still pitch their tents, launch their attacks on sin and their saving 
call to sinners first in the cities, then in the tank towns, finally 
in the hill country of the fundamentalist South. That is a tang 
and honorable succession, but not, on any world scale, revival- 
inducing. 

At any rate, with the help of his parents, he resisted the 
lure. A greater urge was for more education or, rather, for edu- 
cation in something more than the Bible. That fall, after 
prayerful consideration and with his father spying out tbe 
land to make sure this gave promise of an answer to their 

109 



prayers, he enrolled at Wheaton College, a coeducational 
school located twenty-five miles west of Chicago in Wheaton, 
Illinois. 

"It was no accident my boy chose Wheaton," says his mother. 
"He was prayed into that place." 

There can be few schools, I think, better qualified to justify 
such praying. Wheaton was founded by pioneers who, like so 
many, had come by oxcart, covered wagon, and boat from 
New England: pious people who with their plows had broken 
the plains and with their savings and their faith had planted 
Christian colleges wherever they went and as soon as they 
pushed the frontier far enough back to plant their crops. Many 
of these colleges, often against odds which, on any other than 
a religious level, would have been impossible, have survived. 
Some of them have prospered. Many of them have kept alive 
and vital the religious purposes for which most independent 
U.S. colleges were founded but which some of the more famous 
among them, for all save ceremonial purposes, have abandoned 
in favor of aims more reflective of our more secularized society 
and presumably more appealing to secular-minded donors. 

Wheaton College was founded in 1853 by Wesleyan Meth- 
odists. In that heyday of denominationalism it was and has 
remained interdenominational, although today its orthodoxy 
is probably more Presbyterian than Methodist. It was a venture 
of faith in the beginning: its first building a one-story limestone 
schoolhouse. It has remained a venture of faith with, today, 
a thirty-five-acre campus, an endowment of nearly $8,000,000 
and a student body of 1,600. 

Its academic rating is in the top bracket among U.S. insti- 
tutions of higher education. 

Most notable, however, of Wheaton's characteristics is that 
faculty, students, and alumni it still takes seriously the 
motto carved over the main entrance to Blanchard Hall: Tor 
Christ and His Kingdom," 

Each semester at Wheaton starts with a week's evangelistic 
110 



services. Each day classes start with prayer. There is a daily 
devotional chapel hour for all students. There are numerous 
voluntary prayer groups during the week. Campus revivals are 
not uncommon. The highest honor any student can achieve is 
election as president of the Christian Council, an honor which, 
in his senior year, came to Billy Graham. 

Of its present president, Dr. V. Raymond Edman whose 
visits to Wheaton-enlisted Christian missionaries have taken 
him eleven times around the world Billy Graham has said, 
"I do not know any man who more nearly lives Christ than this 
man. He literally walks with the Lord.* 5 

These notable characteristics have produced notable conse- 
quences, not only the usual run of college presidents, preachers, 
writers, business and professional men and women, but in addi- 
tion, more than 1,000 foreign missionaries serving today in 
88 countries. 

They were Wheaton graduates the first I ever met whom 
I visited in the interior of Liberia where they were building and 
are now successfully operating the first radio station in that 
part of West Africa and perhaps the first religious radio station 
on the Continent. There were five families of them musicians, 
technicians, language experts wholly supported by "prayer 
groups," most of them organized in various parts of the ILS. 
by other Wheaton graduates. Their kind, I have found since, 
are not exceptional, but expected at Wheaton. 

What response is called forth by the Wheaton combination 
of high and rigid academic standards and an unapologetic, un- 
remitting emphasis on religion is indicated by the fact that, for 
the 500 places in the entering freshman class in 1954, there 
were nearly 5,000 applicants. 

Billy Graham's nearly four years at the Florida Bible Insti- 
tute netted him one year's credits at Wheaton, and he entered 
as a sophomore. He chose to major he is not sure why unless 
from a desire for a closer-up of the animal he was setting out 
to improve in anfluropology . Academically , however, his rec- 

111 



ord at Wheaton was short of outstanding save in Bible, where, 
thanks to the Bible Institute, he was well out in front. 

Billy Graham arrived at Wheaton short on cash his father 
believing that his son should earn the greater part of his way. 
But he was soon a marked man on the campus, partly because 
he was tall, blond, and handsome, with a "come-hither" South- 
ern drawl, partly also because spick, span, and flashy in other 
habits of dress invariably that first year he wore brown, high- 
top shoes, fhe kind that reach well above the anklebone. To 
earn his living expenses he drove a truck, did work for the 
building and grounds department of the college, and pickup 
jobs around town. Before long he was able to buy the truck 
and set himself up in an after-hours hauling business. This, as 
will appear, was lucky doubtless, in fact, providential for 
him. 

In one respect of first importance in the Wheaton cata- 
logue of talents Billy was in something of a class by himself: 
namely, as a preacher. Word of his preaching gifts and of the 
use he had been making of them on the revival circuit had 
reached the campus from other evangelists and also, no doubt, 
had been spread by Southern friends who had preceded him to 
Wheaton. Billy himself seldom turned down a chance to talk 
about or practice preaching. 

His practicing was done in the third-floor room of the house 
where he lived. He practiced whenever he had time which 
was often in the middle of the night. He also did his sermon 
preparations at unorthodox hours and sometimes by unortho- 
dox methods. His roommate in his senior year Jimmie John- 
son recalls being routed out of bed by Billy: 

"Jimmie, Fve got to preach tomorrow night You've got to 
help me get an outline." 

Jimmie in this, perhaps, more mouse than man would 
crawl out, snap on the light, get out his Bible, and help Billy 
with the outline. 

"Then, fhe next night," says Jimmie Johnson, "I wtiuld go 
112 



and hear him preach that outline and he'd do such a tremen- 
dous job I'd sit there and take notes on my own sermon." 

Billy, in fact, uniformly did such a good preaching job that 
before long his pulpit fees were sufficient to cover his expenses 
and enable him to close out the trucking business. In his junior 
year, so considerable had his preaching reputation become, he 
was asked to take over as pastor of the Wheaton Student 
Church a post which had been held by Dr. Edman until his 
election to the college presidency. 

But more happened to Billy Graham at Wheaton than his 
development in facility as a preacher. New windows of both 
mind and spirit were opened for him. Although orthodox in 
theology and steeped in the Scriptures, Wheaton was a new 
world intellectually, a world not wholly bounded by the Bible. 
He came for the first time into serious contact with areas of 
knowledge which were not necessarily suspect because they 
were not invariably Biblical. These discoveries, it is true, did 
not turn him toward scholarship. But they did begin to turn 
him away from that kind of strait-jacketing religion which for 
lack of intellectual exposure might have become in him, as it 
has in others, religious bigotry. 

There were other religious consequences. Billy Graham's 
beliefs were not watered down. Wheaton was not a place where 
that was likely to happen to such beliefs as his. But Wheaton 
was a place of wider contact; where narrowness was not rated 
first among Christian virtues, if virtue at all; where the con- 
cept was held, without heresy, that God, in His infinite wisdom, 
might find ways to make use of others whose theological cast 
and mold were not, in every large and small particular, pre- 
cisely like one's own. After Wheaton, Billy Graham's preaching 
had no less authority doubtless more. But its tone and con- 
tent were somewhat less in the tradition of Jonathan Edwards' 
"Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God" and somewhat more 
in the tradition of John Wesley, who seldom had anything to 

113 



say about Hell's fires, never used fear in his altar calls, and for 
whom God's foremost attribute was love; and also in the tra- 
dition of Dwight L. Moody, whose early preaching portrayed 
"a vengeful deity," but whose later, more fruitful emphasis was 
"wholly upon a God of love." 

The other part of what, of great moment, happened to Billy 
Graham at Wheaton is more personal. Shortly after his arrival 
someone who doubtless had been spying out the land as it had 
been spied out for him at the Florida Bible Institute reported 
that "the most beautiful girl" on the campus was also "the most 
devout"; that her daily devotional routine was to rise at five 
o'clock and spend two hours, before breakfast or classes, in 
Scripture reading and prayer. 

That the first part of the report, at least, was not much exag- 
gerated Billy found out, for himself a* few days later when 
having backed his truck up to the sidewalk of a house on Main 
Street grimy and sweating, he was wrestling a large over- 
stuffed chair up the front steps to the porch. She stood there 
beside the walk as he wrestled, waiting to go to her room: "So 
cool and comfortable in a dainty white dress it was exasperat- 
ing; but a vision if I ever saw one." 

That the latter part of the report was also true he found out 
afterward. An entry in his diary written years later, after they 
had returned from a Wheaton College banquet in Chicago 
where Billy Graham spoke reads: "Ruth and I dressed in our 
best She looked so beautiful in the same dress she had worn 
in London at some of the functions there. She looks twenty-five 
instead of thirty-five. What a wonderful girl. The Lord cer- 
tainly was looking out for me back there at Wheaton. I re- 
member that autumn day when I was introduced to her. The 
light in her face! I had been told she was a woman who got 
up at five every morning to pray. She still gets up ahead of 
any of the rest of us to spend time alone with God." 

Part of her praying, there at Wheaton, was pacetty specific: 
114 



"Dear God," I prayed, all unafraid, 

(As girls are wont to be) 
"I do not want a handsome man 

But let him be like Thee. 

"I do not need one big and strong, 
Nor one so very tall, 
Nor need he be some genius, 
Or wealthy, Lord, at all. 

"But let his head be high, dear God, 
And let his eye be clear, 
His shoulders straight, whatever his state, 
Whate'er his earthy sphere. 

"And let his face have character, 
A ruggedness of soul 
And let his whole life show, dear God, 
A singleness of goal. 

"And when he comes, as he will come, 
With quiet eyes aglow 
Til understand that he's the man 
I prayed for long ago." 

"Do you wonder," she says, "that I believe in answered 
prayer?" 



115 



7: The Ruth Graham story 



IN HIS FAMED COLUMN in the Christian Century, "Simeon 
Stylites" recently wrote about the "New Look in Preachers' 
Wives," So far as I know, Simeon had not met Ruth Graham. 
But she has the New Look he was writing about. She is a pert 
five feet five; brown eyes, black hair modishly tended, facial 
lines which, someone has said, are "a joy to news photogra- 
phers." Her clothes are smart even those she makes herself. 
She wears the appurtenances of the conservatively well-dressed 
woman. 

If , as an astonished newspaper reporter remarked, "she is 
not quite but almost beautiful," she is, at least, notably different 
from those who aim to make a religious virtue of no make-up, 
outmoded hair-dos, and clothes lacking in style or color on the 
assumption, apparently, that drabness is next to godliness and 
that piety gains in authenticity by being unattractively pack- 
aged. 

Ruth Graham not only does not countenance such assump- 
tions; she disproves them. Her beauty and her religion are both 
the real thing and she puts neither under a bushel, but, unos- 
tentatiously, on a candlestick where, as naturally in Holyrood 

117 



Palace as in her own home, they shine "unto all that are in the 
house." 

Before they went to Great Britain for the Greater London 
Crusade hi 1954, Billy Graham, out of deference to what he 
believed to be the demands of British conservatism and to the 
considerable disappointment of the reporters, did not take 
along his usual and preferred assortment of bright neckties, 
socks, and sport coats. Noticing on the boat that Ruth, in the 
matter of make-up, seemed to be preparing no such conces- 
sions, he one day brought up the subject. 

"In England," he said, "I guess you won't want to wear lip- 
stick as you do at home. Church people, over there, might not 
understand." 

"Don't you think," said Ruth, "that that may be something 
on which the Lord expects us to help their understanding?" 

A few weeks later a well-known actress, Joan Winmill, came 
forward at Harringay to make a "decision for Christ." By 
chance her counsellor, in the Inquiry Room, was Ruth 
Graham. 

"I didn't know then that she was Mrs. Billy Graham," Miss 
Winmill has said. "But the first thought that came to my mind 
when I saw her was: how much sooner people like me might 
have been attracted to Christianity, if we had met a few such 
attractive Christians." 

Ruth Graham says, "We were brought up on the mission 
field. But Mother always hoped we wouldn't look like the 
pickings from a missionary barrel. Thanks to her magic touch, 
I don't think we ever did. 

"It doesn't seem to me to be a credit to Christ to be drab. 
I think if s a Christian's duty to look as nice as possible. 
Besides, not caring about one's appearance goes against a 
woman's nature. That 9 s not going to make anybody a better 
Christian, either. And it's not fair to the people who have to 
look at you." 

Ruth Graham was raised in a home as steeped in religion 

118 



as Billy's: a place where possession of the faith once delivered 
to the saints was sure and the practice of its precepts unremit- 
ting. 

Her parents, Dr. and Mrs. L. Nelson Bell, were medical 
missionaries of the Presbyterian Church in the U.S. (the South- 
ern branch of Presbyterianism) in China. Their station was 
Tsing Kiang Pu, a Kiangsu Province city 300 miles north of 
Shanghai. There, after his arrival in 1916, Dr. Bell directed 
the building and was subsequently in charge of a 380-bed mis- 
sion hospital. When Japanese and Communist invasions finally 
drove them from China in 1941, the Bells settled in Montreal, 
North Carolina, and Dr. Bell established a successful surgical 
practice in nearby Asheville. 

Montreat is a beautiful mountain community famed for the 
salubrious quality of its spiritual as well as its physical climate. 
One side of towering Black Mountain is a citadel for Southern 
Baptists. The other side reputedly a shade less rigorous in 
theology and discipline, a shade more worldly in its pursuits, 
slightly more expensive in its appointments is a citadel for 
Southern Presbyterians. Many of its permanent residents are 
retired Presbyterian ministers, retired or furloughed mission- 
aries. All summer long it serves as the exceedingly pleasant, 
dedication-inducing meeting place for one religious conference 
after another, sometimes for several simultaneously. The best 
of Presbyterian preachers the world over and of others of 
untainted doctrine occupy the pulpit in its huge and always 
crowded Presbyterian Church. The center of its winter life is 
Montreat College a strong church institution with some 200 
students. 

Not only in Montreat, but throughout the reaches of South- 
ern Presbyterianism generally, Dr. Bell, since his return from 
China, has become a figure of BO mean proportions. A man 
of fine mind, wide reading, great energy, and unyielding con- 
victions, he does not easily take "no" for an answer. On matters 
of doctrine, I am sine he never does. The defeat by the South- 

119 



em Presbyterian Church in 1955 of the long-developing plan 
for union with the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. (the 
Northern Church) was due, in important part, to him and to 
the campaign of writing and speaking by which he supported 
his belief that such union would result in an engulfing of the 
"essentials" in a sea of Northern Presbyterian modernism. 

As a Southern Baptist a little suspect among some of his 
brethren for living on the Southern Presbyterian slope of Black 
Mountain Billy Graham was not involved in this Presbyterian 
controversy. As to his own viewpoint in such matters, one of 
his favorite quotations is John Wesley's statement: "I am ready 
to go with any man who loves Christ and preaches salvation 
to men." 

His debt to Dr. Bell is a large one: for his sound sense in 
business matters, his judgment of men, his forthright criticism 
untinged with bigotry of sermon subjects and contents and, 
most of all, for the way professionally as well as privately 
he contagiously lives what he believes. 

"Of all the men I have known," says Billy Graham, "only 
my own father and Dean Minder at the Florida Bible Institute 
have influenced my life as deeply as Dr. Bell." 

Ruth McCue Bell was born in the mission compound at 
Tsing Kiang Pu in June, 1920. She learned to speak Chinese 
before she spoke English. Her first schooling was from her 
mother; for junior high school she was sent to a school for 
missionary children in Korea. At the first Christmas away from 
home, desperately homesick, she informed her parents that she 
had prayed about it and that God had told her, in reply, that 
going home for Christmas was His will for her. Her mother's 
answer, more practical but no less devout, was: "Dear Ruth: 
You say God is leading you to come home. We say that as long 
as we are responsible for you, He is going to lead us as to what 
to do for you. Neither your father nor I feel He is leading us 
to bring you back to China for Christmas. . . ." 

Like Billy Graham's mother, Ruth in the specific time- 
120 



and-place or blinding-flash sense was never converted. She 
grew. That, of course, does not meet the strictest prescriptions 
of fundamentalism. Salvation preferably involves rebirth. Re- 
birth, according to strict fundamentalism, requires a definite 
"crossing over" not necessarily, but preferably, accompanied 
by a strong emotional upsurge at a rememberable time and 
place. 

In his preaching youth, Billy Graham would probably have 
been disturbed by the fact that, in this doctrinal particular, 
Ruth apparently had not qualified. But in this matter, as in 
some others, his is less a strait-jacket theology than it once was. 
Conversion, he says, is a many-sided experience. It comes to 
different people in different ways. Determining those who 
whether by "crisis conversion** or by growth have qualified 
for salvation is not man's job, but God's. 

Ruth herself may regret having missed so rewarding an ex- 
perience. But her religion being the lively, day-to-day reality 
that it i% I am sure the idea of being disturbed as though 
there were some uncertainty as to her eternal fate has never 
entered her head. 

Neither, incidentally, does the fact of concern to some of 
Billy's well-wishing Southern Baptist colleagues that she has 
never been baptized by immersion. When they were first mar- 
ried, Billy himself tried to persuade her, using the best Southern 
Baptist arguments he could uncover* She, with Southern Pres- 
byterian answers equally well rooted in the Scriptures* refused 
to be persuaded. She never has been. Though the subject has 
long since ceased to be an issue, there is a standing offer of 
$100 from Billy Graham to any Baptist who can persuade 
Ruth "as a precautionary measure,** says Grady Wilson to 
agree to immersion. "No hundred dollars of Billy's,* 1 says 
Grady, himself an immersion-believiiig Southern Baptist, "was 
ever so likely to stay unspent" 

By .the time, at seventeen, she left China for college in the 
United States, Ruth's mind as to her own future was made up. 

121 



Preferably married, but married or single, she would return 
to China as a missionary. Her chosen field: Tibet. 

"As a young girl, out there in China," she says, "I committed 
my life to the Lord. And I got exactly the opposite of what I'd 
expected. I thought the Lord wanted me in Tibet, isolated and 
obscure, and I was happy at the prospect. Instead, what I've 
got are publicity and the spotlight. Maybe you won't believe it, 
but in some ways that's harder." 

What the Bells in their remote post in China were unable 
to give their three daughters in the way of on-the-scene advice 
as to men they might marry, they made up for "more than 
made up for" by prayer. And the girls, in their choosing, took 
into account not only the man, but also God. 

Ruth's first date with Billy was to a Sunday afternoon con- 
cert of sacred music in the Wheaton College chapel and after 
that a long walk home. "I knew then," she says, "that here is 
a man who knows where he is going: he is going ahead with 
God. I knew he had one purpose: to please God, regardless." 
That night she prayed, "Oh Lord, if you'll give me the privilege 
of sharing my life with this man, I could have no greater joy." 

Someone at this point injected a word of warning which 
for anyone with less firmness of conviction than Ruth Bell 
might have been upsetting. The warning was that this hand- 
some young North Carolinian was, in the matter of his affec- 
tions, more than a little changeable. This warning seemed 
Scripturally reinforced when, on the same day she received it, 
Ruth Bell in her Bible reading came to the verse in the twenty- 
foarfli chapter of Proverbs: "Meddle not with them that are 
given to change." The pause winch this may have given Ruth 
Bell was not protracted 

There were, however, two further obstacles. One was Tibet 
Jfer older sister Rosa, also a student at Wheaton, helped her 
with that one. 

*tf^ Rjrth said to Rosa, "God got me here to Wbeaton in 
spite ct the war, and if Htfs provided the money and if He's 
12Z 



helped me through my courses then hasn't He been leading 
me straight back to the mission field?" 

"But did you ever think/' said Rosa, "He might have led 
you here to meet Billy? Maybe God does want you over there 
in Tibet as an old maid missionary, but I doubt it I think He 
wants you right here in this country as Billy Graham's wife." 

The other problem was Billy. "I was as sure as she was,** he 
says. "But she knew what a suitor ought to be and do and I 
didn't." To her sister Rosa, Ruth said, "He's being cautious. 
Now you know that's no way to court a girl." That, Rosa sug- 
gested, could be quickly remedied: let Ruth have a date or two 
with someone else. She did, and it worked. Either, said Billy 
when they next met, she could date Vn'm and no one else or 
she could date the lot sweeping the campus with a grandiose 
wave of his arm and forget about him. 

They graduated from Wheaton in June, 1943, were married 
in Montreat in August, and spent their seven-day-seventy- 
dollar honeymoon at Blowing Rock, North Carolina. 

Several years later Ruth was in Boston for the concluding 
meeting, of what, up to then, was Billy Graham's most success- 
ful Crusade. That night 1 6,000 people jammed Boston Garden; 
5,000 stood outside; 1,500 made decisions for Christ During 
the service Ruth was introduced and given a standing ovation. 
Later, unwarned by Billy, she was taken to the room reserved 
for the team and there introduced to the girl to whom he was 
unofficially engaged at the Florida Bible Institute and who, with 
what seemed near-disastrous consequences, had jilted him for 
a young man "of greater promise." 

*Tve wanted to meet you for a long time," said Ruth* *Tve 
thanked the Lord so often for answering niy prayer about a 
husband. Now I can thatiV you for having made it possible for 
Him to answer that prayer with Bill." 

Billy Graham says, "When people used to ask ine what 
was lifce> I tried to describe it as it is pictured in the 

123 



Book of Revelation. Now I think I know what Heaven is like. 
It is like being married to Ruth." 

"Nonsense," is Ruth's comment on someone's remark that 
"half Billy is Ruth/* But no one close to him doubts the weight 
and significance of her contribution, "She is a brain, n one team 
member said to me, "maybe more a brain than Billy. She knows 
the Bible as well as he does. As for theology she was majoring 
in it while Billy majored in anthropology. If it weren't for her 
religion, she might be an arrogant intellectual. But that *if 
makes all the difference." 

It is Ruth's touch of worldliness that helps keep the piety 
in him from turning into piosity; her common-sense and house- 
hold-fashioned wit that help him, when in the clouds, not to 
get lost there; her unawed attitude that is a safeguard, for him, 
against idiosyncrasies, pontifications and, most of all, the sin 
of pride. 

Once attending church soon after they were first married 
and very short of funds Billy put what he thought was a dol- 
lar bill in the collection plate and then saw to his consternation 
that it was a ten. Ruth told him later there was nothing he 
could do about it 

"And in the eyes of the Lord," she said, "you'll not get credit 
foe ten dollars either, since one dollar was all you planned to 
give." 

Often in his letters he writes, a lf you were only here so I 
conld talk over my sermon with you" or, "Fm puzzled what 
to preach about. What a help it would be if you were here." 
When she is, he always asks, "How did the sermon go?" Once 
after he had preached on the Christian home her answer was: 

"It was a good sermon except the timing." 

"What do you mean, the timing?" 

"You spent eleven minutes on a wife's duty to her husband 
and only seven on a husband's duty to his wife." 

la the Graham home in Montreat one discovers that, in addi- 
tion to personal attractiveness of a high order, Ruth Graham's 
124 



gaiety is also a part of her "New Look" among the deeply 
devout Perhaps there is gaiety in her religion because her 
religion is so real she can be natural. Perhaps it is because her 
good sense fortified by a knowledge of the Scriptures re- 
jects the idea of God finding joy in long faces. Maybe it is 
partly because she feels that anything so important on the ter- 
restrial level as a sense of humor must have some above-ordi- 
nary celestial standing. 

At any rate, religion at the Grahams' is not worn on the 
sleeve like a mourning band. It is devoid of dourness or exhi- 
bitionist solemnity. Its reverence appears to be rooted in the 
Gospel "Good News," rather than the obituary pages. There 
is a lighter touch about it 

"One of the peculiar things about living in a preachers 
family," she says, "is the way strangers expect to see halos 
shining from all our heads. I say strangers; our friends know 
better. Our friends are fully aware that, for all our striving to 
make God the center of our home, life in the Billy Graham 
household is not a matter of uninterrupted sweetness and 
light . . ." 

Neither is it a matter of uninterrupted agreement 

"At the beginning of our marriage," Ruth says, "some very 
wise person told me that when two people agree on everything, 
one of them is unnecessary. But you've got to keep your sense 
of humor handy when you disagree. If you do, if you don't take 
things too seriously, then disagreeing can even be a lot of fun.** 

Since 1946, the Graham home has been a comfortable, defi- 
nitely modest house before improvements and additions it 
cost $4,500 built in a style one presumes to be the North 
Carolina version of a Swiss chalet and located behind a too- 
thin screen of shrubs, on one of the main roads into the 
Montreat conference grounds. As Billy Graham's fame in- 
creased it became a mecca for visitors from near and far who 
asking no leave and begging no pardon wandered in and 
out to see Billy or Ruth or the children preferably all of them 

m 



together peeking into the windows, wandering around the 
terrace, trying the chairs, taking snapshots. All summer long 
this steady stream was swelled to a flood by daily visitations 
from that least inhibited of all Americans: the bus-traveling 
tourist. 

Several years ago, Billy Graham had invested his savings 
in a down payment on 200 acres of unlikely mountaintop above 
Montreal There, during 1955, Ruth directed the building of 
a new home into which the family moved in the spring of 1956. 
It is less modest than the first but still modest, with a view 
across the Blue Ridge Mountains that is beyond price. A hole 
has been scooped out of a cliffside and a brook dammed to 
make a swimming pond for the children. Chief among its ad- 
vantages: it is reached by a one-lane road too narrow and 
twisting for busses and for any but the hardiest drivers. It is 
alsothough this can hardly be counted a deterrent marked 
"Private." When, after his 1956 mission to India, Billy Graham 
returned to Montreat he not only found this new home ready 
but also that its cost had been largely met by the gifts of per- 
sonal friends. 

As for the job of being a homemaker there are four 
Graham children it sounds as though she really means it 
when Ruth Graham says, "To me it's the nicest, most reward- 
ing job in the world, second in importance to none, not even 
preaching. Maybe it is preaching." 

She tells of a woman converted in a Dwight L. Moody re- 
vival who came to that evangelist filled with purpose and zeal: 

"God," she said, "has called me to preach the GospeL" 

"He sure has," said Mr. Moody. "He's even got a congrega- 
tion waiting for you: your husband and six children;" 

The devotional aura which, for Ruth Graham, covers home- 
making does not quite stretch to include dishwashing: "I doat 
Kfce dishwashing. There's no future in it, nothing creative." 

Sbehas tried several spiritual devices. One was an embossed 
motto someone gave her in high school: "Praise and Pray and 
126 



Peg Away." She hung that near the sink without appreciable 
consequences. She had considerably better results in fact, she 
says, it almost, but not quite, did the trick with a sentence 
said to have been similarly posted by a Scottish pastor's wife: 
"Divine services will be conducted here three times daily." 

"I even," she says, "made my dissatisfaction with the dishes 
a definite prayer concern and still I couldn't dig up much en- 
thusiasm. 

"But, as so often happens, my prayers were answered in an 
unusual way. I took sick at Christmastime. It was Bill, then, 
who had to take over and do the dishes. What did Billy give 
me for Christmas? An electric dishwasher." 

In their early married life she was not, it is said, much of a 
cook her only dependable specialty being, naturally, Chinese 
dishes which when they could find the ingredients she pre- 
pared and Billy partly, no doubt, from being love-struck 
professed to enjoy. The notable upgrading and Americaniza- 
tion of her culinary qualifications were helped by the colored 
cook in the Montreat home of her parents a task somewhat 
eased by the fact that food, for Billy Graham, might as well 
always be steak. 

She manages the fiscal affairs of the household with, hear 
friends report, more generosity than precision. "When/* she 
says, "I hear that nice Mr, Hickey from the bank say over the 
phone, 'Ruth, this is Billy Hickey. Uh how are you?' I know 
if s not my health he's concerned about." She sews like a pro- 
fessional and still makes most of the clothes for the children 
and plain or fancy many of her own. In the spring of 1 954, 
after a reception in the Grahams* honor at Claridge's in London 
she wrote home: "You should have heard all the titles and seen 
all the jewels and decorations and me in a homemade num- 
ber with zipper trouble!" 

Of the four Graham children, Virginia was bom m 1945, 
Ann ia 1948, Ruth in 1950, and William Franklin, Jr., in 
1952, Prior to the birth of their son, Ruth and Billy had about 

127 



made up their minds that theirs was destined to be a family 
of four daughters which prospect they were more readily 
reconciled to by the account in the Book of Acts of the house- 
hold of another, earlier Christian evangelist, Philip by name, 
who "had four daughters, virgins, which did prophesy/' 

For Ruth Graham, herself, and for the training of her chil- 
dren, religion is a round-the-clock concern. Less than that, she 
says, is not enough and quotes Jehovah's stirring admonition 
in Deuteronomy 6:6-9: "And these words, which I command 
thee this day, shall be in thine heart: and thou shalt teach them 
diligently unto thy children and shalt talk of them when thou 
sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way and 
when thou liest down and when thou risest up. And thou shalt 
bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall be as 
frontlets before thine eyes. And thou shalt write them upon 
the posts of thy house and on thy gates." 

"With four children and the animals," Ruth says, **with 
guests coming and going, with travel, Bill's work plus the usual 
household emergencies, a regularly scheduled time for my own 
private devotions is difficult. So Fve found two substitutes: 

*One is day-long Bible reading, which seems as natural to 
the kids as my preparing meals. The Bible stays open in the 
kitchen all day. Whenever there is a spare minute, I just grab 
that minute and spend it with the Bible. 

"When Bill is away, I'm likely to have the Book open to 
Proverbs. If I*ve a problem I almost always get help there. In 
fact, Proverbs has got more practical child help in it than tea 
books on child psychology. And its thirty-one chapters fit the 
thirty-one days of the month like a glove." 

She once set down a list drawn partly from Proverbs of 
some of those ftings "A Mother Must 

"Walk with God ... Put happiness in the home before 

neatness. . , . Not be the victim of her own disposition. . . . 

Make her tongue the law of kindness. ... In discipline, be 

firm but patient . . . Teach that right means Ijehaving as well 

128 



as believing. . , . Not only teach but live. . . . Not only 
speak, but listen. . . . Realize that to lead her child to Christ 
is her greatest privilege. . . ." 

The second part of Ruth's day-round devotions is prayer. 
"Since I so often don't find any set-aside time, I've tried to learn 
what Paul meant when he wrote 'Pray without ceasing/ 1 heard 
of a lady once who had six children and a very small home. 
She had no place for privacy. Whenever life got too hectic 
and she needed God's help she just pulled her apron over her 
head and the children knew she was praying and quieted down. 

"I've never done that, but it's a fine idea. But when I'm 
dusting, making beds, cooking, sewing, whatever, I think of 
Christ as being there. I talk to Him as I would to a visible 
friend. This is part and parcel of our daily lives so that keep- 
ing close to God becomes part and parcel of the daily lives of 
the children." 

The Bible which Ruth reads to them unfailingly every day 
with longer readings on Sunday is also part and parcel of the 
children's lives. From Scotland where, in the spring of 1955, 
Ruth and Virginia (Gi-Gi) had joined Billy Graham for the 
last two weeks of the All-Scotland Crusade, she wrote one 
Sunday afternoon to her parents: 

"Gi-Gi and I had about two hours in the Old Testament 
I was giving her a running summary of each book and how 
the whole Old Testament points toward the coming of Christ. 
But we got bogged down in Exodus and the plagues which 
she found too interesting to skip over. It was terrific and good 
for both of us." 

About the religious growth of her children Ruth is as natural 
as about her own. 

"It seems to Bifl and me," she says, "(hat the word 'enjoyable* 
is important in religion. We think that word would somehow 
be missing if we tried to go too fast with their spiritual growth, 
with their halo-growing, as it were. We believe that spiritual 
growth can't be f otoed without raising a brood of little hypo- 

129 



crites. We prepare the soft and plant the seed and water and 
weed and tend the plant faithfully but it is 'God that giveth 
the increase.* We're willing to take our time and let growth 
come from the inside, through Christ; not merely from the out- 
side through our puny efforts." 

Once, after they had gone to church in a strange city, I 
asked Gi-Gi how she liked the sermon. 

"I didn't like it," she said. "You know, all he talked about 
was the newspapers. I don't believe he even mentioned Jesus." 

Someone said to Ann, seven, as her father was getting 
ready to leave for Scotland, 'Isn't it too bad your daddy can't 
stay at home with you?" ''But think/' she said, "of all the people 
who would go to HelL" 

Ruth Graham tries to join her husband for part of every 
Crusade. After the two weeks in Scotland in the spring of 1 955, 
she went on for the great meetings at Wembley Stadium in 
London. She was with her husband when he preached in the 
Royal Chapel at Windsor Castle and afterward lunched with 
Queen Elizabeth and the Duke of Edinburgh. Of their visit, 
a few days earlier, to the Queen Mother and Princess Margaret 
she wrote to her parents: 

"Last Tuesday we went to Clarence House. I had been told 
I would visit with the ladies-in-waiting while Bill visited with 
the Queen Mother, thai I would be introduced and we would 
leave. Fearing some overeager friends had tried to sort of push 
me in and having had so many people push into our home just 
to say they had met Bill, I had no desire to do the same. But 
than I was told the Queen Mother looked forward to seeing us 
both. 

**Thaf s how it happened that our little tan Ford drove up 
to the gate at 11:45. Two men secretaries met us at the door. 
We shook hands with them. The doorman held out his hand 
(for Bfll's hat) and Bill shook that, too to the doorman's 
evident surprise. We were led into a wide hall where we were 
fained by the ladies-in-waiting. We all went to a side room 
130 



where we talked about golf and the Cockell-Marciano fight. 
Then suddenly the door opened: 'Her Majesty the Queen 
Mother will receive Dr. and Mrs. Graham/ 

"It was something of a shock for I had expected to sit and 
be properly briefed by the c in-waitings' before being intro- 
duced. But you don't keep royalty waiting, so in we went 
Now, Mrs. Jarvis had taught me to curtsy. But the Queen 
Mother came toward us with her hand outstretched and I didn't 
know whether to curtsy first and shake hands or shake hands 
first and then curtsy. I don't know which I did. Bill the mer- 
ciless wretch said it looked as though I'd tripped over the 
rug. . . . 

"Anyway, the Queen Mother was the dearest, most charming 
person and so was Princess Margaret a lovely, tiny thing, 
dressed in a bright pink taffeta dress with a little white cash- 
mere sweater about her shoulders, patent-leather pumps and 



No member of the Graham team, not even Billy Graham, is 
more single-mindedly concerned for the success of each Cru- 
sade than Ruth Graham or more deeply stirred by what tran- 
spires. After the concluding meeting in Glasgow mote than 
100,000 people in Hampden Park she wrote: 'Tonight so 
many prayers have been so gloriously answered. Even 100,000 
voices raised in singing To God Be the Glory 5 seemed inade- 
quate. Just wait till we get to Heaven!" 

From Wembley she wrote: "The great patient crowds sit- 
ting quietly in the rain and the cold wind. So many needy 
hearts, both high and humble. When the invitation was given 
there was the sound as of sudden heavy raindrops on a roof. 
But it was only the footfalls of hundreds going forward; there 
was nothing but those footsteps and the choir singing 'Just As 
I Am, without One Plea.'. * . The rain fell in sheets across the 
field lights shining down on thousands of glistening umbrel- 
las. Still they came, 3,400 in all. Many of the counsellors were 
converts from Harringay last year." 

131 



"They were all charming people," Ruth wrote, of the guests 
at a Paris luncheon given for her. "They were all interested 
in the coming meeting. The opinion was, We're all for it. But 
we've got our fingers crossed.' Or, 'After all, this is Paris.' . . . 
Or, ^Frenchmen are too skeptical and individualistic ever to 
go forward in groups. Maybe your husband had better not 
make his usual appeal/ - . . And more of the same. 

"No one seemed to take into account the power of God or 
the hunger of the human heart. And I needn't sound so smug. 
Frankly I wondered, too. . . . 

"Finally, we went out to the meeting. ^ . . The setting was 
confused and uninspiring. But it was the background for one 
of the most amazing demonstrations of the power of God I 
have ever seen. . . . 

"One young Army officer told me later: 1 prayed that at 
least one person would go forward to keep Mr. Graham from 
being embarrassed . . . But God did the impossible . , . 
over 600 came. And every night since they've been coming: 
bearded students, workingmen, glamorous young Parisians, 
servicemen, countesses, actresses, old and young all of them 
walking at a slow deliberate pace as though they wanted every- 
one to see how sure they were of what they were doing. . . ." 

Ruth Graham does not often make speeches. But when at 
a dinner ia Glasgow at the conclusion of the All-Scotland 
Crusade, a Crusade official paid tribute to her and to "the 
pric^" she had to pay for being an evangelist's wife, she broke 
her role and made a response. 

*I want you to know that I would rather be an evangelist's * 
wife than anything else in all the world. And I also want you 
to know maybe you've guessed it (hat, as for being this par- 
ticular evangelist's wife, Fd rather have Billy Graham, part 
time* titan anybody eke in all the world, full time*" 



132 



8: ", . . And some, evangelists" 



WHEN, IN SEPTEMBER, 1949, Billy Graham arrived in 
Los Angeles for the opening of a "Christ for Greater Los An- 
geles Crusade," he had with him only enough revival sermons 
to last two weeks, plus some sketchy notes which he planned 
to turn into sermons for the last of the scheduled three-week 
run. That was his entire supply. Up to then, it had been ade- 
quate. 

The Los Angeles Crusade lasted not three weeks, but eight 
Its 6,000-capacity tent ("The largest revival tent in the world") 
had to be enlarged to make room for 9,000 and was still too 
small. Billy Graham spoke to 350,000 people. More than 3,000 
made decisions for Christ. 

"No one since Billy Sunday," said Time magazine, has 
wielded "the revival sickle" with such success as "this thirty- 
one-year-old, blond, trumpet-lunged North Carolinian." 

"Old-style religion," said an Associated Press dispatch, "is 
sweeping Los Angeles. . . , This blas6 city has seen multi- 
tudes of meetings of the supercolossal type, but it is safe to say 
(hat this evangelistic meeting is one of the greatest the city evear 
has witnessed." 

By the end of the Los Angeles Crusade, not only had five 

133 



weeks of new sermons been added to Billy Graham's evange- 
listic repertory. New authority had been added to his preaching; 
new significance had been added to its results; and a new 
prospect had been opened for his future. 

Until Los Angeles he had been another evangelist: more 
youthful, more colorful, more successful, perhaps, than most, 
but nonetheless not notably different from scores of others 
before him who, with varying but hardly ever more than local 
consequences, had pitched their tents and thundered doom and 
salvation city by city and town by town along the country's 
sawdust-strewn revival circuits. 

What happened at Los Angeles is another circumstance in 
this account which takes one beyond the area where journalists 
are accustomed to operate. But it is difficult, even for a journal- 
ist, to escape the conclusion that at Los Angeles a power greater 
than Billy Graham began to take Billy Graham more directly 
in hand and as such a greater power did with Joshua to 
"magnify" him. From having been a revival preacher, he seems 
to have become, increasingly thereafter, the voice and in- 
creasingly also the instrument of revival. ) 

Today Billy Graham's associates speak offfis career as in two 
major parts: before Los Angeles and since Los Angeled JBut 
what happened in the period 1943 to 1949 before Los An- 
geles is an important chapter in the Billy Graham story because 
it is a part of his past which, for his present worldwide ministry, 
has proved to be essential prologue. In that period he became 
by choice and more, he would say, "by Providential circum- 
stance" an evangelist and achieved, as though on.^ trial run, 
his first, not inconsiderable triumphs in evangelism. , 

On the matter of a diversity of gifts among the Cord's work- 
men and of a division of labor in the Lord's vineyard, Billy 
Graham quotes the familiar words from St Paul's letter to the 
Ephesians: ". . . And gave them gifts. . . . And He gave 
some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and 
some, pastors; and some, teachers." 
134 



Of the last two Billy Graham has had what I think might 
be called a smattering of firsthand experience. For sixteen 
months, after his graduation from Wheaton, he was pastor of 
the Baptist church in Western Springs, Illinois, For three and a 
half years late 1947 into 1951 he was part-time president 
in Minneapolis, Minnesota, of the Northwestern Bible School, 
an independent Bible and liberal arts college of considerable 
fundamentalist repute. It could hardly be said that the former 
experience gave him very deep grounding in the toils, tribula- 
tions, and rewards of a pastor or that the latter accomplished 
any very deep indoctrination in the art and practice of teaching. 

This was only partly because, in both instances, the time was 
short. A more important reason was that Billy Graham could 
not escape the conviction, and did not seriously try to, that 
the part of St. Paul's allotment which directly referred to ft 
was: ". . . and some, evangelists. . . ." 

If St Paul an evangelist himself had in mind any special 
spiritual gifts as the qualifying marks of an evangelist, he did 
not specify them. But I am sure he was aware since he pos- 
sessed such a large measure of it himself that one quality, not 
necessarily spiritual, was almost indispensable and almost al- 
ways present There necessarily has to be in the evangelist 
more than the share accorded ordinary mortals of restlessness, 
an above-normal urge to be on the move. 

It is true that in the writings of St. Paul there is, so far as 
I can find, no indication that his "journeyings often** were, for 
him, anything more than unrelieved hardship from which, 
after each new journey, he was lucky to have escaped with his 
life. In the second chapter of his second letter to the Corin- 
thians he sets forth the dire chronicle: In perils of rivers, in 
perils of robbers* in perils in the city, in perils in the wilder- 
ness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren, in 
labor and travail, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in 
fastings often, in cold and nakedness. . . ." 

It seems to me possible to take that chronicle of which I 

135 



have quoted only part at full face value and still feel sure 
that there must have been a pleasanter, that there may even 
have been a lighter, side to the story of his traveling. In fact, 
reading the record of his journeyings on which he had em- 
barked even before his conversion it seems a likely con- 
clusion that, though he learned "in whatever state" he found 
himself, "therewith to be content," the one state in which it 
would have been most difficult for hi to have been content 
would have been one which involved no journeying, a state 
of staying put. 

John Wesley made no such sorry bones about it. It was, I 
think, not wholly due to his organizational genius but, in part, 
to the uncurbed restlessness of his own temperament that led 
him to establish, for his Methodist societies, an "itinerant 
ministry." In fifty years mostly by horseback his evange- 
listic itinerating took him up, down, and across England 250,- 
000 miles. Fifty times, in those days of sail, he crossed St. 
George's Channel to Ireland. His Journal is not only a record 
of things spiritual, but also the travel log of a man who has 
been called "The Happy Traveler." To him, unlike St. Paul, 
it was by no means all travail. 

"I am content," he wrote, "with whatever entertainment I 
meet with and my companions are always in good humor. This 
must be the spirit of all who take journeys with me. If a dinner 
ill-dressed or a hired bed, or a poor room, or a shower of rain, 
or a dusty road would put them out of humor, it lays a burden 
upon me greater than all the rest put together." 

No difficulty in going seems to have alarmed Wesley so 
much as the prospect of not going. "Our servant," he wrote, 
"caaae up and said, 'Sir, there is no traveling today. Such a 
quantity of snow has fallen in the night that the roads are 
quite filled up.' I told him, 'At least we can walk twenty 
miles with our horses in our hands.' So, in the name of God, 
we set out . . ." 

When past seventy, unable any longer to travel by horse- 
136 



back, Wesley did not give up traveling but continued until 
well into his eighties to go by carriage: chiefly driven, no 
doubt, by zeal and concern for his new-founded societies, but 
also, I am sure, impelled by that restlessness which most 
evangelists seem congenitally to possess and which, for the 
demands of their special mission, is probably indispensable. 

Minor though it doubtless is, Billy Graham in this respect 
also stands in the evangelist succession. His traveling involves 
acute attacks of homesickness, much weariness, an occasional 
cold brought on by lack of proper sleep and exercise, indiges- 
tion brought on by lack of proper food and, in addition, all 
manner of less, but cumulatively not insignificant, discom- 
forts, inconveniences, confusions, and irritations. 

These Billy Graham complains about less, perhaps, than 
some of us might, but nonetheless in healthy human fashion. 
But I am inclined to think they are the complaints of one who, 
in spite of it all, is more than reconciled to is, in fact, basi- 
cally happy about his peripatetic lot, his "journeyings often." 
If there were no prospect of yet another journey just ahead, I 
am sure he would take much less delight than he does in each 
journey just completed. And I am also inclined to think that 
this restlessness made it likelier that when the Lord called Billy 
Graham into evangelism, it was not necessary to repeat the 
call. 

The church he held at Western Springs, not far from 
Wheaton, paid its minister $45 weekly. It had, as edifice, only 
a basement, no parsonage, and on the Sunday morning of 
Billy Graham's first appearance, a congregation of 35. If his 
sixteen months there did not suffice to remedy all these de- 
ficiencies, they were sufficient to stir among the people such 
unaccustomed zeal and fervor as to make their remedying 
gtvemabitmoretime inevitable. The building fund he started 
grew into whiat is now an attractive church. The Sunday morn- 
ing congregation now averages in the several hundreds. The 

137 



preacher has an assistant as well as a parsonage and what 
passes, among preachers, as a living wage. 

Billy Graham, even while pastor, was more evangelist. He 
preached every Sunday morning, and every Sunday evening as 
though each service were a revival. In a sense, each service 
was. He never failed to give a call for "decisions for Christ"; 
almost always there was someone or several who came for- 
ward. He worked out for the church a three-point program 
based on Bible reading, prayer, and personal evangelism. 
Evangelism, as he defined and preached it, included not only 
the evangelization of Western Springs, but of the world "in 
this generation." Today, as a result, this church supports 
twenty missionaries in various parts of the world. 

Meanwhile, an opportunity to extend his ministry beyond 
Western Springs was in the making at the hands of a fellow 
minister, also a Wheaton College graduate, Torrey Johnson 
by name. Several years older than Billy, Torrey Johnson was 
a man of great energy, fervor, and imagination who had gone 
to Chicago on leaving Wheaton, organized his own church 
the Midwest Bible Church and made it a thriving center of 
evangelism. In addition to directing the activities of his own 
highly active institution, he had a regular, late Sunday night 
evangelistic radio program, organized and led Youth for 
Christ Rallies, and was a professor of Greek in Chicago's 
Northern Baptist Seminary. 

While Billy Graham was at Wheaton, Torrey Johnson heard 
of his campus fame as a preacher; once heard him preach, and 
decided forthwith that here was a prospective evangelist of 
more than ordinary stature. When Billy Graham went to 
Western Springs, the two men kindred evangelical spirits 
with matching zeal and convictions met several times. It was 
Torrey Johnson who persuaded Billy Graham not to go on, as 
he had considered doing, to a theological school a decision 
which Billy Graham occasionally regrets. "Get in there and 
138 



preach,** Torrey told Billy. That* s the theological school you 
need," 

One day, early in 1945, Torrey Johnson telephoned Billy 
Graham from Chicago. "No phone call will ever have a greater 
influence on my life," he says, "than that one had.** 

"Billy," said Torrey, "you know I've got a regular Sunday 
evening radio program. I find I just don't have time to do that 
program right I want you and your church to take it over." 

"Why he chose me, just one year out of college, ni probably 
never know," says Billy Graham, "but I knew it was the chance 
of a lifetime our little church on the air, 50,000 watts strong, 
spreading the Gospel." 

There was one considerable hitch. The membership of his 
church numbered 85. The total weekly church budget met 
with some difficulty was only $125. Weekly cost to the 
church of the radio program would be $150. Billy Graham 
called his congregation into a prayer meeting to consider the 
matter. That evening's prayers were answered with weekly 
pledges totaling $85 little more than half the required 
amount. 

"Such an opportunity may never come our way again," 
said Billy Graham. "Lef s sign up and trust God for the rest." 

His congregation, breathless but believing, agreed. 

This was the beginning (Sunday evenings 10:30-11:15 over 
Chicago station WENR) of Songs in the Night an informal, 
family-circle kind of "Gospel sing," with Billy Graham be- 
tween singing, Bible reading, and prayer interspersing sev- 
eral three- to five-minute religious "chats," Bible-based and 
evangelisticaHy beamed. Evidently many Gospel-and-song- 
minded people of the Chicago area were waiting for just such 
a program at such an hour. It caught on immediately. Contri- 
butions came in sufficient for its financing. First paid soloist 
was George Beverly Shea then on Chicago's WBMI as 
announcer and singer, now "America's beloved Gospel singer* 
of flic Graham team. 

139 



As unfailingly as always, Billy Graham concluded every 
program with a call for "decisions for Christ." Soon there 
were reports of such decisions, increasing each week. Soon, 
also, Billy Graham's name was widely known beyond Western 
Springs and invitations to speak, to preach, to assist in re- 
vival services sometimes as many as twenty in a day began 
to pour in on him. 

Songs in the Night is still on the air; still using the same 
program format used by Billy Graham; still originating from 
the same church, "the friendly church in the pleasant com- 
munity of Western Springs, Illinois." 

Then, late in 1944, Billy Graham was laid low with an 
attack of mumps so severe it took months to recuperate and 
led to his discharge from the Army chaplaincy for which he 
had been accepted. For the last several weeks of his recupera- 
tion on the strength of a gift from an anonymous donor who 
specified only that the money be spent "in the sun" he went 
with Ruth to Florida. They were hardly settled in their hotel 
before the phone rang. It was Torrey Johnson, stopping "not 
by chance," says Billy Graham; "the Lord was in it" at the 
same hotel. 

During the following days the two men met, talked, and 
prayed together often and Torrey Johnson shared with Billy 
Graham his dream of an international, interdenominational 
evangelistic movement among young people. Such a movement 
was already stirring in Youth for Christ which was then work- 
ing largely among servicemen and of which Torrey Johnson 
had become the recognized national leader. 

Youth for Christ was and still is "an evangelistic move- 
ment specializing in mass evangelism, particularly among 
youth." Its chief feature was the Saturday night Youth for 
Christ Rally. Its methods, along with the tried-and-true tech- 
niques of old-time revivalism, included all manner of attentkm- 
getting-and-holding attractions: ventriloquists, magicians, 
close-harmony quartets. On the night in the week when so 

140 



almost everyone told Johnson "you'll never get the kids to 
turn out," these rallies got them: packing large halls, even 
filling Chicago's Soldier Field, 

Now, Johnson told Billy Graham, the time had come for 
the "Big Push" a rapid expansion both in the United States 
and abroad. On the last day of their vacation together, John- 
son asked Billy Graham to be part of that world\vide push, to 
become YFCs first "field representative." His salary of $75 
a week plus expenses was already pledged by two Johnson 
supporters in Chicago. 

"Give up the pastorate?" Ruth asked when Billy told her. 

"That' s right," he said. "And take up what the Lord's really 
called me to do: evangelism." 

A month later, early in 1945, Torrey Johnson and Billy 
Graham walked into a barren two-room office in downtown 
Chicago, got down on their knees, and asked God's blessing 
on their plans and dreams for reaching young people around 
the world for Christ. 

"There was only one thing left to settle," says Ruth Graham. 
"Me. What was I going to do? It wasn't practical to start hiking 
over the country with htm For the first time we decided to 
call Montreal home." She moved in temporarily with hear 
parents. Moving itself was no chore: "We didn't own a stick 
of furniture." 

Billy Graham's first Youth for Christ Rally was in Chicago. 
They had rented Orchestra Hall and he was scheduled to 
preach for twenty minutes. It was, for him at that stage, an 
awesome occasion his first large audience. 

"The prospect of taHring to 3,000 people," he says, "fifled 
me with terror. The old fright and embarrassment which, when 
I was at school in Florida, had sent me out to the swamp to 
preach to the birds and stumps returned in full force. I shook 
in my boots.* 

But when, after he had preached, he gave the invitation, 

141 



40 young people an unprecedented number came forward 
to make decisions for Christ. 

During the next twelve months, Billy Graham traveled 
nearly 200,000 miles by plane. He spoke in 47 states to Youth 
for Christ Rallies of up to 20,000, mostly young people. More 
than 7,000, under his ministry, made "decisions for Christ.'* 

He also added, en route, the second member of what is now 
the Billy Graham team. It was at a YFC Rally in Asheville, 
North Carolina. At the last minute the regular song leader 
had failed to appear. Someone suggested that in the audience 
that night was a young man with some experience as a song 
leader, 

"This meeting/* said Billy Graham, "is too important to 
take a chance on an amateur." 

There was, finally, no choice and the amateur as reluctant 
to try as the preacher was to have him took over. After he 
had conducted a song or two, Billy Graham whispered to the 
chairman, "He's great stuff. What did you say is his name?" 

"Cliff Barrows," said the chairman. 

It was not long thereafter before Cliff Barrows in the suc- 
cession of John and Charles Wesley, Moody and Sankey, 
Sunday and Rhodeheaver took over the music for all Billy 
Graham's meetings. Today, he is probably closer to Billy 
Graham than any other member of the team, his counsel con- 
tinually sought on many matters besides music. "He comes 
near to being the indispensable man,'* says Billy Graham. 

Doring this three-year period with Youth for Christ, Billy 
Graham traveled 750,000 miles including four trips to 
Europe. He ran afoul, in his evangelistic crusading, of all 
manner of opposition most of it opposition from within the 
clrarches, chiefly among ministers. Some were against Youth 
for dxrist because William Randolph Hearst's newspapers 
seemed to be for it; some because it had a theology not of 
"solid meat," but of "milky abstractions"; others because its 
leaders were too evangelistically minded and still others be- 
142 



cause the techniques they used were "learned from business 
and particularly from commercial radio." 

Whatever the reason and there were others of about the 
same order of profundity there was back of each of them a 
discernible measure of ministerial discomfiture that this corps 
of young upstarts "Christian gypsies," they were sometimes 
called could move in, stir, and enlist great numbers of young 
people unreached by the church, and most discomfiting of all 
do this with a Gospel message which many churchmen were 
sure was the least promising of all means whereby such a 
science-minded, socially sophisticated generation of young 
people could possibly be reached. Even the Christian Century, 
at the end of an almost wholly adverse article, "What about 
'Youth for Christ'?" felt impelled to say: 

"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 the rising generation, 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 the new channels 
of communication for preaching the Gospel offers them. They 
should do likewise, and bettor." 

But the fact that he met with so much church hostility did 
not shake Billy Graham's belief that successful evangelism must 
be church-centered and that any evangelistic enterprise with 
which he was associated would be. On cme Youth for Christ 
trip to England in 1946, he arrived in Birmingham to find that 
the city council had withdrawn permission for him to use the 
city auditorium for the rallies. Inquiry revealed that this action 
was the result of opposition to the meetings from local min- 
isters. From a supporter among the clergy Billy Graham got 
a list erf the preachers most strongly opposed to him. One by 
one he called on them "Not," he said, "to argue, only to 
explain and, if you don't mind, to pray." One by one they 
were won over and the city council rescinded its action. 

143 



"I wasn't interested," one of these ministers subsequently 
wrote. "We had plenty of soul-winners right here in Birming- 
ham, without taking on any of America's surplus saints. But 
Billy called on me. He wasn't bitter, just wondering. I ended 
up wanting to hug the twenty-seven-year-old boy. I had failed. 
I called my church officers and we disrupted all our plans for 
the nine days of his visit. 

"Before it was over, Birmingham had seen a touch of God's 
blessing. This fine, lithe, burning torch of a man made me love 
him and his Lord. . . ." 

During these years of his increasing evangelistic effective- 
ness and repute, one man had kept a righteously covetous eye 
on Billy Graham. He was Dr. W. B. Riley, an aging but still 
fiery evangelist who, as a preacher of more than ordinary 
intellectual achievements, had founded in Minneapolis in 1902 
first as an adjunct of the First Baptist Church of which he 
was pastor the Northwestern Bible School. This school 
much like the Bible schools of the South was a means for 
the propagation, unsullied, of the Bible-centered evangelical 
faith. By 1925, in its own building, enrollment in its Bible 
courses was 300. In 1935, a theological seminary was added; 
in 1944 a liberal arts college, and in 1948 the school moved 
into a new million-dollar plant in Minneapolis. 

The more Dr. Riley saw and heard of Billy Graham the 
surer he became that here was the man to succeed him as 
president of the institution. To this Billy Graham when he 
first heard of it gave an unequivocal "no" for answer. But 
his or, for that matter, any man's "no" meant very little 
to Dr. Riley. He made an alternative offer strongly bolstered 
with Biblical quotations indicating, as Dr. Riley saw it, that 
tbis was not only his plan, but God's will. The alternative was 
that Billy Graham should serve the school as president four 
days a week, three days a week with Youth for Christ. He 
asked: Would Billy let him know in time to announce the 
joyful news at the 1947 commencement? 
144 



"I have sought to discern the will of God," said Billy 
Graham in reply. "If God has blessed me with a particular field 
it has been that of an evangelist. I told the Lord two years ago 
that I did not care to be a great preacher, but that I did want 
to be a great soul-winner. . . . How to reconcile work at 
Northwestern with the tremendous evangelistic opportunities 
open to me is difficult . . . May I have until July 21 . . V 
In July he wrote: "I have been waiting for Heaven's signal 
I have not received it, . . ." 

In August, Dr. Riley on, as he believed, his deathbed 
besought Billy Graham to visit him. There, in a firm voice, 
(he old man read to the younger the story of the prophet Sam- 
uel's choosing, from among the sons of Jesse, of one to be king 
over Israel and how he chose the youngest, David, and how 
Jehovah said, "Arise, anoint him; for this is he." 

"Beloved," said Dr. Riley, "as Samuel appointed David King 
of Israel, so I appoint you head of these schools. IT! meet you 
at the judgment seat of Christ with them." 

Pressure pitched on such a level Billy Graham did not know 
how to resist without feeling that, by doing so, he might be 
resisting the Almighty, Thus, for six months after Dr. Ritey*s 
death, Billy Graham served as interim president; then, for six 
months, as acting president and, finally, in 1948 lie agreed 
to accept the post of president on condition that he could 
continue much of his evangelistic work. It was a remarkable 
setup, admirably suited to the credit of no one and, perhaps, 
to a minimum of benefit to the Lord: Billy Graham continuing 
to live in Montreal, president of a school in Minneapolis, 
traveling the revival road much of the time* 

la June, 1951 the school having grown substantially in 
enrollment, funds, and reputation during his three and a half 
divided years he resigned as president "I have been trying 
to do the work of two men. It isn't working. I must choose one 
or the other. The leading of the Lord seems clear and I must 

145 



f ollow it." This time there was no one to arrange the Lord's 
contrary intervention. 

At Northwestern Billy Graham, among other things, learned 
about the educator-category mentioned by St. Paul as, at the 
church in Western Springs, he had already learned about the 
pastor-category. Facility at neither was the Lord's "gift" to 
him. Occupational^, this left only evangelism. 

One further Northwestern discovery was a young Southern 
Baptist minister, administrative assistant to Dr. Riley and 
teacher of theology and Hebrew. When Billy Graham in 1950 
was about to set out from Minneapolis for an evangelistic 
campaign in New England, Jerry Beavan said to him one day, 
*Td give my right arm to go with you. I think I could help out 
with the press." 

"Okay," said Billy Graham, "you're going along." He has 
been going along, "helping out with the press," ever since. 

Today the promotional setup of every Billy Graham Crusade 
is Jerry Beavan's responsibility. I have heard him called a 
"genius." I have seen at close hand enough of the way he 
operates, months ahead of a Crusade, with half-committed 
ministers and reluctant laymen, to believe that from the en- 
thusiasm he engenders and the effort he enlists there is a 
good deal of truth in that description. 

"Sure, we've got to have organization," he says, "and for 
that we're sometimes criticized. But, organizationally, we 
aren't even in the same league with some of the denominations 
to which some of our critics belong. You can't get anywhere 
with any kind of business these days without organization. I 
happen to believe that, foe Christ's business, we need the best" 

A prize-fight promoter with above-average box-office know- 
how once said to Jerry Beaven, "Boy, how Fd like to have 20 
per cent erf yoor Bflly Graham." 

Tba promote: may or may not have understood Jerry's 
reply: "H you or I had 20 per cent of Billy Graham we might 
be broke bat we'd still be two of the world's richest people." 
146 



Thus, in early September, 1949, Billy Graham came to Los 
Angeles. There were, by then, three other members of the 
Graham team: Grady Wilson, Billy Graham's boyhood friend, 
associate evangelist; Cliff Barrows, director of music; George 
Beverly Shea, soloist. 

"We weren't sure," says Grady Wilson, "but that in Los 
Angeles we'd tackled something too big for us. Perhaps our 
faith wasn't geared up to it. Only a short time before we 
had been in Baltimore. Our meetings there were held in the 
Lyric Theater. That, for us, was a great act of faith, for the 
Lyric had 2,800 seats. Our prayer was that it would be filled, 
but until the very last meeting of our series it never was. In 
that Los Angeles tent there were 6,000 seats; it was breath- 
taking." 

For the first two weeks and into the third, the Los Angeles 
meeting ran the usual revival course: good crowds, but no 
overflow; some scores of decisions; offerings sufficient to meet 
expenses. Midway through the third and presumably last week, 
the size of the crowds for no discernible reason jumped from 
a well-filled to a packed-out tent, with hundreds standing. By 
Friday night with a record-breaking attendance the ques- 
tion was: End, as scheduled, on Sunday or continue another 
week? On that question, for the next two nigjits, there was a 
lot of late praying. 

Billy Graham following a practice which, when Christians 
expected more of God, was a commonplace among them 
asked the Lord for a sign: some visible, unmistakable evidence 
before the Sunday night meeting that continuing was His will; 
lacking which that night would be the last 

I am sore that those who expect nothing from God, and 
most of those who do not expect much, will put it down as 
sheer coincidence that that Sunday night, when Billy Graham 
arrived at the Crusade tent at Washington and Hill streets in 
downtown Los Angeles, thwe was waiting: for him the largest 
contingent of reporters, feature writers, and newspaper pfaotog- 

147 



raphers he had ever faced. That morning, from his fabled 
retreat at San Simeon, the aging William Randolph Hearst 
had sent a two-word telegram to the editors of the Hearst 
press: "Puff Graham." 

This may have been sheer coincidence. And the fact that 
Mr. Hearst was involved in it will be proof enough to some 
that the Lord was not. The important point is that, to Billy 
Graham, it was not coincidence, but an answer to prayer. If he 
had concluded otherwise that it was not prayer, but coinci- 
dence then the Los Angeles meeting would have ended that 
night and Billy Graham would have gone his evangelizing way, 
diminishing as he went; not immediately aware any more, 
perhaps, than Samson was that "the Lord was departed from 
him/* 

But, says Billy Graham, the prayers that were being an- 
swered that Sunday night in Los Angeles began weeks before: 
"Los Angeles had more of everything. It had more publicity, 
more people, more decisions for Christ. But back of all these 
there was one indispensable thing that Los Angeles had more 
of: more people doing more praying." 

That whatever weight one may wish to give it seems 
to have been true. It was in Los Angeles, for the first time, 
that organized prayer support was set up weeks in advance of 
a Billy Graham Crusade set up under the auspices of an 
organization called "Christ for Greater Los Angeles." By the 
time the Crusade began more than 1,000 prayer groups had 
been formed in and around Los Angeles. For several weeks 
they had been meeting regularly to pray for the Crusade's 
success. These continued throughout the Crusade and they 
were supplemented by special prayer meetings in scores of 
churches. There were also many "prayer chains" in which 
vofcmteers recruited by Grady Wilson at the Crusade meetings 
divided the day and night into half-hour periods so that, 
twenty-four hours around the clock, the Qusade was contin- 
ually being prayed for. 

148 



This, too, may belong in the department of coincidence 
but it is remarkable to note three of the persons who were 
converted in the first five days that followed that "final" Sun- 
day night. 

One of them was Stuart Hamblen, Southern California's 
best-known radio personality. To his radio audience and then 
at a Crusade meeting he said, "If anyone had told me Fd ever 
stand where I am standing tonight, Fd have said he was a 
candidate for the sanity commission. I don't know any fancy 
religious words. I've done practically everything everyone 
else has done. I've been a sinner. I also know that a few nights 
ago, I accepted Christ as my Savior." 

Along 'The Strip" in Hollywood, the odds were 10 to 1 it 
wouldn't last. It has. 

Like many of those converted in Billy Graham's Crusades, 
Hamblen carries a pocket New Testament and, when there are 
a few odd minutes, reads it. He was reading it one day in the 
railroad station of a Canadian city. A soldier, sitting next to 
him, opened up a conversation. 

"Fve never had much to do with religion." 

"You've missed something, 5 * said Hamblea* 

"Well," said the soldier, "I just can't see myself following 
someone like Jesus Christ who's been dead 2,000 years.** 

"You say Jesus Christ is dead," said Hambkn. "Tfaaf s 
strange. I was talking to Him, right here, not twenty minutes 
ago," 

That week in Los Angeles also saw the conversion of Louis 
Zampermi, Olympic miler and one of the country's foremost 
war heroes. Today, from having been an aimless, drink- 
hounded ne'er-do-well, he runs a Christian camp for boys. 
Most startling of all, perhaps, was the conversion of Jim Vans, 
henchman of and wiretapper for the notorious gangster, 
Mickey Cohen. Vaus today is in full-time religious work, as a 
lay evangelist 

During the five weeks into which that first week-long ex- 

149 



tension grew, the Los Angeles Crusade continued to gather 
momentum. It was front-page news in Los Angeles; it became 
a feature story nationally. More than 700 of the city's 1,000 
Protestant churches many of which had been cold to luke- 
warm toward Billy Graham were, at the end, at least nomi- 
nally supporting him. 

"This city,'* said the minister of one of these churches, "with 
its 1,000 ministers preaching every Sunday, was going lazily 
along with the man on the street unimpressed. Then came 
Billy Graham. In eight weeks, he had more people thinking 
and talking about the claims of Christ than had all the city's 
pulpiteers in a year's time. When the Crusade closed, we faced 
a community that was at least willing to talk about the claims 
of Christ. My church got a dozen members, but it got more 
than members. It got new inspiration, zeal, and a spiritual 
uplift that can never be described." 

"We had gone to Los Angeles unheralded," says Billy 
Graham. "When we left we knew that the Spirit of God had 
moved on that California city as never before. We believed 
also that there He gave proof that He would bless and use 
our ministry 'exceeding sjbundantly, above all that we ask 
or think/" 



150 




Billy Graham: his most recent portrait. (Fabian Bachrach) 




A characteristic speaking stance, with Billy Graham declaring, as he 
repeatedly does, 'T/re Bible says . . ." (Jay B. Leviton from Black Star) 




In Toronto's Coliseum, the first few of nearly 700 people who that night made 
"Decisions for Christ" come forward in response to Billy Graham's appeal 
(1955 Time Inc. Courtesy Life Magazine) 




Ruth and Billy Graham, in the fall of 1955, look over the construction of the 
new mountainside home into which they have now moved, above Montreat, 
North Carolina. (1955 Time Inc. Courtesy Life Magazine) 




Billy Graham's ardor for 
golf his favorite re- 
laxation is not appre- 
ciably dimmed by the 
fact that he seldom 
shoots below 90. (Jay B. 
Leviton from Black Star) 




During his 1954 Greater London Crusade, Billy Graham spoke to one of the 
largest crowds ever assembled in Trafalgar Square. "Britain" he said, *'/s at 
the beginning of what could be the greatest spiritual awakening of all time" 
(Combine Photos) 




During his 1956 tour in India, Billy Graham, in city after city, 
drew larger crowds than had gathered a few weeks previously 
to hear Russia's emissaries Khrushchev and Bulganin. Here, in 




an improvised stadium in a small south Indian city, more than 
100,000 people, many of whom have traveled great distances 
on foot, have assembled to hear him. 




Billy Graham, returning from his 1954 Crusade in Europe, is met at dockside 
in New York City by his family. Left to right: his wife Ruth Graham, Ann, 
Bitty, Ruth, Virginia. (United Press) 



9: It takes money 



SINCE LOS ANGELES where Billy Graham's preaching 
began to be, in the historic revival sense, big-time evangelism 
the scope of his ministry has extended until organizationally 
and financially it is now big-time business. It is a business 
which involves not only his meticulously organized Crusades 
but also radio, films, a newspaper column and books. 

Some idea of the scope of his ministry can be gathered from 
this 1955 summary. In that year he held full-length Crusades 
in Glasgow, Scotland, for six weeks and in Toronto, Canada, 
for four; one seven-night mission at Wembley Stadium in Lou- 
don; another mission of five nights in Paris; and, in the course 
of a Continental tour, one-night meetings in twelve cities in 
seven countries in addition to several appearances before UJS. 
servicemen. During the year, in these meetings an estimated 
4,100,000 persons heard Billy Graham face to face and a 
much larger, unestimated number listened to him by radio 
relay. Some 146,000 made "decisions for Christ" 

Every Sunday during 1955, as it had been for five years, 
Billy Graham's radio program The Hour of Decision was 
on the air. Carried over three networks the American 
Broadcasting Company, the National Broadcasting Company, 
and the Mutual Broadcasting System this program is on 700 

151 



stations in the United States, 90 in Canada, and 50 abroad. 

The average Sunday afternoon listening audience for The 
Hour of Decision is estimated at more than 20,000,000. 

In its "film ministry" the Billy Graham organization has pro- 
duced and distributed five evangelistic films. They are Mid- 
century Crusade, Mr. Texas, Oil-Town USA, Souls in Con- 
flict, and Fire in the Heather. 

During 1955 those five films were shown in the United States 
to 150,000 audiences with an estimated total attendance of sev- 
eral million. 

In addition to this, Billy Graham's newspaper column, "My 
"Answer," runs five days a week in some 200 U.S. newspapers 
with a daily readership of 28,000,000. 

His 1954 book Peace with God had, by the end of 1955, 
sold more than 500,000 copies and had been translated into 
15 languages. A second book, The Secret of Happiness, pub- 
lished in 1955, was rapidly overtaking the first in sales. During 
1 955 Billy Graham also launched a television program over the 
facilities of the first commercial TV station in Great Britain. 

When questioned, as he often is, about the multiplicity of 
his activities, Billy Graham, as one would expect, has a Scrip- 
tural answer: the statement of St. Paul to the Corinthians that 
"I am made all things to all men, that I might by all means 
save some." 

Billy Graham says that almost every organization, business, 
agency, almost every person with something good or not so 
good to sell uses the miracle of modern machinery and modern 
communications to sell it: "Why not the churches and religion? 

"We have a greater opportunity than Paul ever had. I 
imagine that if Paul can look down here he is champing at the 
bit How he would like to be on television! How he would like 
to have a radio hour! How he would like to get on a plane 
and go from Corinth to Rome! How he would like to use some 
of the facilities we have for saving the lost!" 

Altogether the Billy Graham organization is an operation 
152 



which runs to considerably more than $2,000,000 a year. 
When the budget for his "film ministry" and the cost of the 
individual Crusades which is always raised and expended 
locally is included the total would be more than $3,000,000. 

So far as the fiscal side of the Billy Graham setup is con- 
cerned, there are two notable facts about it. The first is that 
fiscally it operates by use of the most modern business methods 
and, down to the last penny, entirely in the open. The second 
fact is that these highly efficient business methods are employed 
with a sense of religious mission not noticeably less than that 
which characterizes Billy Graham's direct evangelistic preach- 
ing. 

Earlier in his revival ministry Billy Graham followed the 
somewhat loose financial practices which have characterized 
other evangelists and which unhappily in many places have 
seemed to put the dollar sign on revivalists and their methods. 
Billy Graham's awareness of this problem came to a focus at 
the end of the six-week Crusade in Atlanta, Georgia, in 1950. 
In that Crusade a collection customarily called a "love 
offering" was taken for him and Cliff Barrows. That this 
method of finance could prove to be a detriment to his ministry 
was made more apparent by the fact that an Atlanta newspaper 
published a picture of Billy Graham holding a huge bag which 
contained this cash collection. 

Soon thereafter he took counsel with various people and 
soon worked out a plan which once and for all totally elimi- 
nated the "love offering" method and regularized more effec- 
tively, I think, than any evangelist before him his own 
finances and that of his organization. 

Today there are two financial aspects to every Billy Graham 
Crusade. One has to do with the Crusade's local expenses; the 
other with the finances erf Billy Graham and his team. Each 
Crusade is locally incorporated under the laws of the particular 
state or country, with a board of directors made up of inter- 
ested local businessmen, professional men, and clergymen. 

153 



The actual money for the Crusade is almost wholly raised by 
the regular collections made at each Crusade meeting. These 
collections are not solicited from the platform by a member 
of the Billy Graham team, but each night by a local business- 
man or minister. The board of the local corporation prepares 
a budget for the Crusade; supervises the expenditures; and at 
the end makes a public accounting published in the local news- 
papers, giving a detailed and audited financial statement. 

Because of the importance of such reckonings in revealing 
the integrity of the Billy Graham operation, I am including 
here the audit which was published in the Nashville news- 
papers at the conclusion of the Billy Graham Crusade early in 
1955. 



(As published in The Nashville Tennessean, Sunday morning, 
February 27, 1955.) 

Report of Audit 
BILLY GRAHAM CAMPAIGN FUND 

Statement of Receipts and Disbursements . . . 
Dec. 30, 1953 to Dec. 15, 1954 

OSBORN AND PAGE 

CERTIFIED PUBLIC ACCOUNTANTS 
2012 BROADWAY 

NASHVILLE 4, TENNESSEE 

HILARY H. OSBORN, C. P. A. NASHVILLE, TENNESSEE 

FRED G, PAGE, C. P. A. 2012 BROADWAY 

ROBERT ADAIR, C. P. A. 

EUGENE R. MULLINS, C. P. A. KNOXVDLLE, TENNESSEE 

ALBERT M. MILLER, C. P. A. FIDELITY BANKERS TRUST BUILDING 

The Greater Nashville Evangelistic Crusade, Inc. 

Nashville, Tennessee 

Gentlemen: 

We have examined the accounts of The Greater Nashville Evange- 
listic Crusade, Inc., Nashville, Tennessee, for the period ended Decem- 
ber 15, 1954. The results of our examination are presented in this 
report which consists of these comments and the following designated 
exhibits: 

154 



Exhibit "A" Statement of Cash Receipts and 

Disbursements, December 30, 1953, 
Through December 15, 1954. 

Exhibit "B" Condition of Budget, December 30, 1953, 
Through December 15 f 1954. 

Our examination was made in accordance with generally accepted 
auditing standards applicable in the circumstances, and accordingly 
included such tests of the accounting records and such other auditing 
procedures as we considered necessary. 

Minutes of directors* meetings were examined in order to ascertain 
whether the financial transactions were handled in accordance with the 
wishes of the directors and in accordance with the authority delegated 
by them. 

The Greater Nashville Evangelistic Crusade, Inc., was incorporated 
in the State of Tennessee on December 30, 1953. The purpose of the 
corporation was to sponsor, promote, and conduct religious, evangelical, 
spiritual and evangelistic revivals through preaching and teaching of the 
Gospel of Jesus Christ in the Nashville area. 

Cash on deposit with Third National Bank, Nashville, Tennessee, in 
the amount of $13,431.23, at December 15, 1954, was verified by rec- 
onciling the books with the amount reported to us by the depository. 

We mailed requests for confirmation to a representative number of 
suppliers of materials and services to determine if there were any out- 
standing liabilities. At the date of this report only minor amounts had 
been reported. After payment of all liabilities, the amount of which 
appears to be nominal, the remaining balance is to be transferred to the 
Billy Graham Evangelistic Association for the Hour of Decision, 

In our opinion, the Statement of Cash Receipts and Disbursements, 
and Condition of Budget, fairly reflect the financial transactions of The 
Greater Nashville Evangelistic Crusade, Inc., Nashville, Tennessee, for 
the period from inception, December 30, 1953, through December 15, 
1954, in conformity with generally accepted accounting principles. 

Respectfully submitted 
Signed: 

O shorn and Page 

Certified Public Accountants 
January twenty-five 
1955 



155 



GREATER NASHVILLE EVANGELISTIC CRUSADE 

with Billy Graham 

February 19, 1955 

To the People of Greater Nashville 
Dear Friends: 

The Treasurer and Finance Committee of Greater Nashville Evange- 
listic Crusade, Inc., wish to present to you a full accounting of all funds 
committed to them. 

A letter from Osborn and Page, who offered their accounting services 
free, indicates the scope of their certified audit. 

We would like to call to your attention in brief form a few of the 
highlights. 

Total budgeted amount agreed on by your local committee for 
local expenses including the $20,000 for lighting Vanderbilt Stadium: 
$80,721.00. Total expenditures for local expenses were: $75,324.75. 

Receipts for local expenses consisted of: 

Advanced Gifts . $31,268.48 

Collections at Meetings 57,374.62 

Profit on Song Books 946.63 

Collections for local expenses were stopped a full week before the 
Crusade ended 

The difference between receipts and expenditures will be forwarded 
to the Hour of Decision with the Condition that any additional con- 
tingencies arising be drawn from such surplus. 

Hour of Decision Sunday offerings of cash were counted and de- 
posited here and a check sent to Minneapolis. Envelope offerings were 
sent direct to Minneapolis. 

Total Hour of Decision offerings, cash and envelopes, were $80,- 
497.64. $38,000 was set aside for the European Crusade. 

The Special offering for Rev. J. D. Blinco was counted and a check 
deposited to his account in the amount of $5,943.75. 

Spiritual accounting of the Crusade rests with our God, and for the 
success of the Crusade, to Him be the Glory. 

Ben Whitmore, Treasurer 

Ernest J.Moench, 

Chairman Finance Committee 

THE GREATER NASHVILLE 
EVANGELISTIC CRUSADE, INC. 

Nashville, Tennessee 

Exhibit "A" 

Statement of Cash Receipts and Disbursements 
December 30, 1953, Through December 15, 1954 
RECEIPTS 

Collections at Meetings $57374.62 

156 



Gifts 

Sales of Song Books 

Refunds and Sales of Materials 

Income from Showing of Film 

Third National Bank Note 

Banquets 

Redeposit of Petty Cash Fund 



31,268.48 

5,446.63 

1,112.22 

1,083.37 

995.00 

396.50 

100.00 



Total Receipts for The Greater Nashville 

Evangelistic Crusade, Inc. $97,776.82 

Collections Handled for Others: 
Hour of Decision $22,509.98 

Rev. J. D. Blinco (of England) 5,943.75 28,453.73 



TOTAL RECEIPTS 

* ' 

DISBURSEMENTS 

Budget Expenses (Exhibit "B") 75,324.75 

AddAmount of Receipts 
Credited to Budget Expenses : 

Sales of Song Books 5,446.63 

Refunds and Sales of Materials 1,1 12.22 

Banquets 396.50 

Interest Deduction-Note ( 5.00) 82,275.10 



$126,230.55 



Expense of Showing Film 
Billy Graham Evangelistic 
Film, Inc. 



713.56 

369.81 1,08337 



Third National Bank-Note 
To Set Up Petty Cash Fund 
Less Taxes Withheld from Salaries ( 



1,000.00 
100.00 
112.88) 



Total Disbursements for The 
Greater Nashville Evangelistic 
Crusade, Inc. 84,345.59 

Remittance of Collections 
Handled for Others: 
Billy Graham Evangelistic As- 
sociatiott Hour of Decision 22^09.98 
Rev. J.D. Blinco (of England) 5,943.75 28,453.73 



TOTAL DISBURSEMENTS 



$112,79932 



Bank Balance, December 15, 1954 



$13,431*23 



THE GREATER NASHVILLE 
EVANGELISTIC CRUSADE, INC 

Nashville, Tennessee 

Exhibit "B" 

Condition of Budget 

December 30, 1953, Through December 15, 1954 



STADIUM AND FIELD HOUSE 
"Lighting 

Platforms 

Other Construction 

Tent, Chairs and Lights 

Public Address Systems 

Insurance 

Decorating 

Maintenance 

Field House 

Miscellaneous 

Total 

ADVERTISING 

Newspaper 

Radio and Television 

Outdoor 

Poster 

Miscellaneous 

Total 

CRUSADE OFFICE 

Rental 

Salaries 

Equipment 

Supplies 

Telephone and Telegraph 

Miscellaneous 

Total 

POINTING, MAILING, ETC. 

Printing 
Postage 
Supplies 
Miscellaneous 

Total 
158 



Amount Amount 
Budgeted Expended 



$20,000.00 


$20,000.00 


1,000.00 


1,341.22 


1,250.00 


1,454.07 


1,250.00 


1,450.96 


1,500.00 


1,450.00 


500.00 


592.98 


500.00 


.00 


1,000.00 


3,436.41 


500.00 


223.91 


500.00 


851.88 


$28,000.00 


$30,801.43 


$ 1,000.00 


$ 787.96 


1,000.00 


1,473.70 


4,000.00 


3,952.18 


1,000.00 


424.75 


1,000.00 


45.67 


$ 8,000.00 


$ 6,684.26 


$ 1,500.00 


$ 1,247.66 


2,000.00 


3,082.38 


250.00 


448.82 


1,250.00 


992.25 


500.00 


762.49 


500.00 


511.74 


$ 6,000.00 


$ 7,045.34 


$ 5,000.00 


$ 3,975.45 


1,200.00 


2,164.12 


800.00 


354.63 


500.00 


.00 



$ 7400.00 $ 6,494.20 



COUNSELING AND FOLLOW-W 

Pre-Campaign: 

Salaries of Team 

Materials 

Salary and Expense of Team Members 
Materials Used in Counsel Room 
Follow-Up Through Churches 
Counseling and Follow-Up-rOther 
Instruction Classes 
Office Expense 

Total 

THE EVANGELISTIC TEAM 

Salaries* 
Expenses 

Total 

MISCELLANEOUS 

Badges 

Freight and Express 

Equipment Rental 

Organ and Piano 

Song Books (Net) 

Nurseiy 

Utilities 

Banquets, etc. (Net) 

Unforeseen Contingencies 

Total 



Grand Total 
'Sales 
Cost 

Profit 



$5,446.63 
4,500.00 

$ 946.63 



$ 1,655.50 


$ 678.00 


471.00 


2.45 


1,952.00 


3,528.20 


800.00 


1,700.01 


420.00 


.00 


1,45250 


.00 


105.00 


9,45 


865.00 


32054 



$ 7,721.00 $ 6,238.65 

$12,500.00 $ 7,720.50 
6,500.00 $ 9,73452 



$19,000.00 


$17,455.02 


$ 300.00 


$ 20639 


750.00 


298.80 


250.00 


7.00 


750.00 


62.00 


500.00 


*( 946.63) 


250.00 


106.28 


500.00 


.00 


1,000.00 


743.62 


200.00 


12839 


$ 4,500.00 


$ 605.85 



$80,72LOO $75,324.75 



EXECUTIVE COMMUTES 



REV. JAMES M. GREGG 

Crusade Chairman 

DR. WALTER R, COURTENAY 

Co-Chairman 

ALBERT P. ROSE 

Vice-Chairman 

REV. CECIL D. EWELL 

Secretary 



REV. CLARENCE BOWEN 

Asst. Secretary 

BEN A. wnrraoRE 
Treasurer 

JOHN O. ELLIS 

Asst. Treasurer 

REV. W. C. WESTENBERGER 



159 



Honorary Chairmen: GOV. FRANK o. CLEMENT . . . MAYOR BEN WEST 

. . . HON, J. PERCY PRIEST . . . BISHOP ROY H. SHORT 

COMMITTEE CHAIRMEN 

DR. W. F. POWELL DR. GEORGE H. JONES 

Pastor's Advisory Publicity 

DR. H. THORNTON FOWLER DR. LEONARD STIGLER 

Co^Chairman Counseling and Follow-Up 

CHARLES M. GRAY ERNEST J. MOENCH 

Men's Prayer Meeting Finance 

MRS. HARVEY REESE MRS. KEITH VON HAGEN 

REV. RALPH SCHURMAN Children 

Cottage Prayer Meeting DAVID c KUTHERFO RD 

JOHN T. BENSON Young People 



j^j^ TOM STONE 
LEE DAVIS Nursery 

Ushers GAYLE L. GUPTON 

LEWIS E. MOORE Delegations 

Auditorium 

*No amount was paid to Billy Graham for Honorarium. This 
amount represents payment to other members of the team. 

THE GREATER NASHVILLE 
EVANGELISTIC CRUSADE, INC. 

In most Crusades the regular collections more than cover 
the local costs. The board of directors is authorized to dispose 
of this surplus. Most often it is contributed to a local charity, 
occasionally to the work of the Billy Graham Evangelistic 
Association. 

It is through the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association, 
Inc., that the second aspect of the Billy Graham operation is 
regularized: namely, the financing of Billy Graham and his 
team. This association, which has its headquarters in Minne- 
apolis, Minnesota, is a result of the kuncbing in 1950 of 
The Hour of Decision. The story of how that radio program 
which almost overnight made frrna a national figure and re- 
sulfed in the expansion to its present large-scale proportions 
160 



of the Billy Graham operation got on the air merits being 
told here in some detail because it is, I think, a dramatic 
revelation of the quality of Billy Graham's faith and how that 
faith, implemented by prayer, figures in his decisions. 

This story reaches its amazing climax in the lobby of the 
Multnomah Hotel in Portland, Oregon, a few minutes before 
midnight, August 16, 1950. But it began two months before 
in a roadside diner near Ocean City, New Jersey. 

That day, Billy Graham, attending a conference in Ocean 
City, had driven into the country with a fellow preacher. They 
stopped at this diner for lunch. As they walked to a table, a 
stranger rushed up to Billy Graham, tears in his eyes, and said, 
*This can only be God's doing." 

This was his story. A preacher in Philadelphia, with consid- 
erable local radio experience and some wider contacts in the 
field, he was an admirer of the young and then much less re^ 
nowned evangelist. During the previous night he had wakened 
with what he described, in Quaker terminology, as a "concern** 
to put Billy Graham's message on a radio network. Since he 
believed Billy Graham was in Europe, he dismissed the idea. 
The next morning, however, the same concern returned this 
time with such urgency that he finally decided to drive to the 
shore "to shake it off or figure it out** To him, this meeting in 
the diner where he, too, had stopped fat lunch, was not 
"chance" but "a Providential directive.** 

Billy Graham was sympathetic to the man, but totally un- 
convinced "be it said to my shame** of the Providential 
origin of his idea. He had never, he said, given any thought to 
a national radio program. He explained that he had no funds 
or organization, not even any network contacts. The preacher, 
undaunted, promised that he would be heard from again. Billy 
Graham quickly forgot the incident. 

But two weeks later at a Bible conference in northern Michi- 
gan he was unexpectedly called on by two advertising execu- 
tives. One of these was Walter Bennett, head erf the Walter P. 

161 



Bennett Advertising Agency in Chicago. The other was his 
Philadelphia associate, Fred Dienert. Both these men were 
active churchmen. Bennett, a Lutheran, had been active for 
years in the promotion of other famous religious broadcasts. 
Dienert happened to be a member of the church in Philadel- 
phia served by the minister who met Billy Graham in Ocean 
City. 

Although they had never before met Billy Graham, they 
explained to him at their meeting in northern Michigan that 
they had heard of his interest in a radio program: "We have 
come to see what we can do about it." 

Billy Graham assured them there was nothing they could 
do. His schedule was already overcrowded. He simply was 
not interested. 

Within a week they reappeared, this time at Billy Graham's 
home in Montreat, North Carolina. They had enlisted the 
interest of a broadcasting company; a thirteen-week schedule 
at a good Sunday afternoon hour was available; the cost: 
$92,000. That," says Billy Graham, "was the kind of money 
I knew nothing about" and the discussion abruptly con- 
cluded. 

In Portland, Oregon, that July, Billy Graham began what, 
up to then, was his most successful Crusade, with 18,000 
people, night after night, crowding the specially built "taber- 
nacle." But hardly a day passed when, to his increasing irrita- 
tion, he did not hear, by telephone or telegram, from Bennett 
and Dienert who had made themselves the self-appointed pro- 
moters of a Billy Graham radio program. One weekend they 
appeared in person. 

The program, they said, could be launched for an initial 
$25,000. Thereafter, the cost something more than $7,000 
a week would be met by voluntary contributions from the 
radio audience. What they got from Billy Graham was another 
curt "no" "the whole thing, beginning with the $25,000 I 
didn't have or know where to get, was altogether fantastic," 
162 



When, ten days later, they returned, he refused to see them. 
They waited a week. Then, having booked air passage home, 
they left a parting message for Billy Graham with the promise 
that they would drop the whole idea and pressure him no more. 
As a "goodbye courtesy," he invited them to his room. 

Then, recalling the incident in the diner, Billy Graham 
began to wonder whether "perhaps this was the Lord's doing; 
perhaps He did want me on the air." When, therefore, Bennett 
and Dienert arrived at his room, he told them that, on the 
human level, his decision was unchanged. But the final de- 
cision, he said, should be "not mine, but the Lord's." The 
three knelt and Billy Graham prayed "The kind of prayer I 
have never prayed before or since." 

He said in his prayer that he would accept it as proof that 
a radio program was "the Lord's plan" for him, if, by midnight 
that night, there could be placed in his hands the sum of 
$25,000. 

Up to then, the largest single contribution Billy Graham had 
ever received for his work was less than $500. Sure that he had 
asked the impossible, the two visitors tJade him goodbye and 
left for the airport 

Before his sermon that night Billy Graham told his overflow 
audience of the radio offer; of his repeated refusal to consider 
seriously a venture so far beyond his means; of his desire to 
settle the matter in accord with God's will. He did not mention 
his prayer or the sum required. "We won't be seeking you out," 
he said. "But if you thtnlr this is God's plan, you can seek us 
out." 

At the end of the service, after he had spoken to those who 
had made "decisions for Christ," he went to the room reserved 
for members of his team. Grady Wilson, his associate evange- 
list, stood in the door. A long line was queued up in front of 
him. An old shoebox which Wilson held was fitting with cash 
and with pledges scribbled on business cards, newspapers, 
sheets torn from songbooks, odd scraps of paper. An Idaho 

163 



lumberman left a pledge for $2,500. A schoolteacher and his 
wife from down the Oregon coast pledged $1,000: 'The con- 
tents of our saving account, but we can think of no better 
investment." A high-school boy pledged a month's earnings 
from his newspaper route. 

The total was just over $23,500. 

Waiting nearby were Bennett and Dienert. They had gone 
to the airport, boarded their plane, and then suddenly decided 
they would wait one more day. 

'This is a miracle," they said to Billy Graham. "You're as 
good as on the air." 

"No," he said, "it's not a miracle. The Devil could send us 
$23,500. If s all or nothing." 

"Well guarantee that last $1,500 ourselves." 

"No, that's not the answer we prayed for." 

It was almost midnight when, considerably let down, they 
reached the hotel. Grady Wilson asked at the desk for mail. 
There were three letters for Billy Graham. One of them was 
from another city, from a person unknown to Billy Graham 
expressing the conviction that his sermons should be regularly 
heard on radio. To start a Billy Graham radio fund, a check 
was enclosed for $1,000. Each of the other two letters, in hotel 
envelopes, contained checks for $250. . 

"Now," said Billy Graham, "111 grant if s a miracle." In his 
room feat midnight, there was another prayer meeting, 

"Since then oa several occasions," says Billy Graham, "our 
bank balance has been down to a few hundred dollars. But, in 
more than five years we've never asked for a loan and every 
bill has been paid on time. 

*The Lord who heard us that night in Portland is still giving 
proof that He does answer prayer/* 

A large share of credit for the promotion of his radio and 

newspaper ministry and for the worldwide circulation of his 

boqks, as well as for his wisdom in other business matters^ 

must go to Walter Bennett and his associate Fred Dienert in 

164 



the Walter F. Bennett Advertising Agency. It is not likely that 
many businessmen have given themselves to any cause with 
greater energy, imagination, and devotion than these two men 
have shown in extending the message of Billy Graham. 

That night in Portland, Billy Graham had no idea what to 
do with the for him large sum of cash which had been col- 
lected. Overnight it was kept guarded in his hotel room by an 
unsleeping Grady Wilson. The next morning Wilson took it in 
a huge bundle to a local bank. The problem of what to do with 
it thereafter was still unresolved. To undertake the resolving 
of it, Billy Graham that day sent a hurry-up call to his friend 
George Wilson no relation to Grady Wilson who was busi- 
ness manager of the Northwestern Bible School in Minne- 
apolis, where Billy Graham had served as interim president. 

Out of the $25,000 contributed for the launching of The 
Hour of Decision came the Billy Graham Evangelistic Associ- 
ation, Inc., which Wilson who goes about his job with a not- 
able combination of business shrewdness and religious zeal 
still directs. He himself is secretary-treasurer of the Associa- 
tion's board of directors. The other members are Billy Graham 
as president, Grady Wilson as vice-president, Cliff Barrows and 
Ruth Graham. The accounts of the Association are audited by 
a local firm of certified public accountants. 

Billy Graham's salary is $15,000 a year. It is paid by the 
Association. So are the salaries of the other membeis of the 
Billy Graham team, as well as all of the 125 Association em- 
ployees in Minneapolis. Billy Graham's only additional income 
is from the proceeds of the sale of his books. That income 
is being set aside as a trust fund for the education of his 
children. 

The funds which were handled through the BiQy Graham 
Evangelistic Association for the financing of the Billy Graham 
operation amounted in 1955 to over $2,000,000. It is a>mark 
of the efficiency of the organziation that in the expenditure of 
this sum, including tfce amounts speait for promoticmal mailings, 

165 



only 2% per cent went for overhead. The major item of ex- 
penditure is of course the radio program, The Hour of Decision, 
which runs to approximately $30,000 a week. The second 
major expenditure, in addition to salaries, is the subsidy paid 
out for the deficit of the film ministry* 

All of the funds of the Billy Graham Evangelistic Associa- 
tion come, of course, from the voluntary contributions of sup- 
porters of the Billy Graham ministry. On each of the Sunday 
afternoon radio programs an. appeal is made, not in so many 
words asking for financial contributions but, more subtly, ask- 
ing for support* Listeners desiring "to support this ministry" 
are asked to write to Billy Graham, Minneapolis, Minnesota. 
Most persons who respond to this invitation know what is ex- 
pected of them and send contributions. 

Since its organization the Billy Graham Evangelistic Associ- 
ation has received one contribution of $50,000 from a founda- 
tion and one check of $5,000 from an individual. Those are 
the largest gifts ever received. Most contributions are so modest 
that the average runs to a little more than $5 each. The mailing 
list of contributors, built up over the five years since the Billy 
Graham Evangelistic Association was formed, numbers now 
nearly 1,000,000. This list is kept meticulously current. In ad- 
dition to formalized letters from Billy Graham thanking these 
individuals for their specific contributions, all of the nearly 
1,000,000 persons on this list receive from the Association a 
regular promotional mailing once every two or three months. 
Many persons contribute repeatedly: some of them once a 
month, some twice a month, some of them having averaged 
from once to twice to four times a month for sums varying 
each time from $2 to $5 for the last four years. 

The Billy Graham Evangelistic Association started in 1950 
in a three-room office with one employee. Today it occupies 
part of three floors of a modern four-story building with 125 
employees. In addition to the Minneapolis office, a headquar- 
ters is maintained for the team of Washington, D.C, where 
166 



also are located the offices of the Billy Graham Evangelistic 
Films. 

In the offices in Minneapolis George Wilson has installed 
business machinery and methods which would do credit to the 
most up-to-date mail-order establishment. There is, however, 
a religious plus about the operation of this office which, so far 
as my experience goes, puts it, businesswise, in a class by itself* 
Every morning, for example, the 125 employees gather in a 
cleared space between the files for a twenty-minute devotional 
service conducted, when he is there, by George Wilson, 

Many hundreds of the letters received every week by the 
Billy Graham Evangelistic Association contain no contribu- 
tion. They are written by persons seeking spiritual guidance. 
These letters from all kinds and conditions of people and with 
all kinds of problems are promptly and carefully answered, 
with no accompanying financial solicitation. 

The seven women who read this "problem mail** begin their 
day's proceedings before they have read a letter with a 
special "season of prayer" in which, as one of them explained 
it to me, "We ask God to give us understanding and wisdom 
in classifying this mail and suggesting how it can be answered." 

Most of the problem mail falls into definite categories, of 
which there are about forty. The substance of a reply for the 
problem in each of these categories has been prepared, given 
a number, and can be run off by pressing a button. la addition 
to this formal reply, there is, in most instances, a personalized 
introduction and conclusion written for each letter by an as- 
sociate of George Wilson, also a minister. 

Occasionally letters come f or which no prepared reply seems 
adequate, of which unclassified category the following is a 
sample: 

"My wife and I will doubtless go to Heaven. We have been 
married, and peacefully, for many years. We are nearly sixty 
and are almost typical. We sort of mind our own affaks, never 
cause anyone any trouble. My problem I just can't imagine 

167 



spending an eternity with my wife. One hundred thousand years 
or so, yes. But eternity well I just don't see how I can stand 
it. Isn't there some way I could avoid going to Heaven and at 
the same time not go to Hell?" 

Even the operators of the business machines some of them 
Billy Graham converts likewise begin their day's work with 
the prayer that "God will help us this day to do good and ac- 
curate work in using this machine in His service.*' 

Not long ago, several efficiency engineers called on George 
Wilson and after he had taken them through the plant, ex- 
pressed their amazement that he could have set up and con- 
tinued to run with such efficiency so highly technical an opera- 
tion without any previous technical training. 

"In our business," they said, "we have books that have to 
be mastered before we can be masters of these machines." 

To which Wilson replied, "Believe it or not, we have a book 
too the Good Book." As one of the experts subsequently re- 
marked, "Ordinarily we would have laughed that off but not 
after having seen his operation." 

I spent a number of days in the offices of the Billy Graham 
Evangelistic Association in Minneapolis. I got, I think, a thor- 
ough and complete account of its operations, of the monetary 
intake and outgo. But I came away with the feeling that, effi- 
ciently as the business is handled, its real audit is shown in no 
ordinary balance sheet. 

One afternoon, pointing to a series of filing cabinets, George 
Wilson said, "Here is where we keep our real accounting. These 
cabinets aie a file of the 146,000 persons who under Billy 
Graham's ministry made *decisions for Christ' in 1955. It is 
the record kept in this room which makes every one of us feel 
so sure that whatever our specific job may be, the work we are 
doing is the Lord's work." 



168 



10: London: revival drama 



MANY THOUGHTFUL OBSERVERS agree that not since 
the Dwight L. Moody revival in the late nineteenth century, 
perhaps not since John Wesley, has Great Britain been more 
widely or deeply stirred, religiously, than during Billy Graham's 
Greater London Crusade in the spring of 1954, 

"Three months, 5 * wrote one British editor, "have transformed 
the atmosphere of Britain. 

'The Archbishop of Canterbury became enthusiastic; the 
Prime Minister sent for Dr. Graham; the First Sea Lord got 
up in public and went to the Inquiry Room. So likewise did 
many thousands from all walks of life many being persons 
of leading rank or high in the learned professions and big busi- 
ness. 

"The effect serais to be a calm, a confidence, an escape from 
the house built on shifting sands to that built on rock. This 
remarkable occurrence is of first historic importance." 

It was also an event of first importance for the ministry of 
Billy Graham. It added maturity to him both in and out of 
the pulpit It modulated somewhat the phrasing of his messages 
without modifying their essential content It gave him inter- 
national stature. Moreover, in Great Britain, for the first time, 
his preaching stinted an entire nation. 

169 



If, in fact, the ministry of Billy Graham kindles in the West- 
ern world the fires of an authentic religious revival, it will 
almost certainly be found that the place where that kindling 
began was London, in the spring of 1954. 

A later chapter in this book will recount some of the con- 
sequences of the Greater London Crusade and attempt to 
appraise their significance. This chapter is the story of that 
Crusade itself. It is a story told, for the most part, in the stir- 
ring and highly human letters of Mrs. Billy Graham to her 
parents. First, however, it will be helpful, I think, to sketch 
in the background. 

In advance of his going, London was held to be, and un- 
doubtedly was, the most difficult city Billy Graham had ever 
faced. In the beginning, to judge from the secular press, it was 
outwardly the most hostile. 

British church life was at a low ebb, probably lower than 
at any time in this century. There were few, if any, signs in 
Britain of the religious upsurge which was swelling church 
membership in the United States and filling its churches. 
Church membership 60 per cent of the U.S. population 
was only 5 to 15 per cent in Britain. As against 34 per cent 
of the U.S. population which regularly attend church, the per- 
centage of churchgoers in England was only 10 per cent. 

The prevailing British church atmosphere, even in many 
churches of evangelical tradition, was, to put it moderately, 
cool to "revivalism" and much more so to the American 
brand of it The attitude in more than Anglican circles was 
that of the vestryman who voted against the participation of 
his church in the Crusade: "I don't like all this preaching about 
conversion. It isn't Church of England." 

The Crusade was sponsored by more than 1,000 Greater 
London churches of all denominations, two-thirds of them 
Church of England* But many sponsoring ministers went along 
reluctantly at first, hoping probably praying that, though 
no great good could be expected, no great harm would come. 

170 



Six nights a week for twelve weeks, from March through 
May, Billy Graham preached in Harringay Arena a 12,000- 
capacity, barnlike sports palace which, so his associates were 
warned, few sports events ever filled and no man in Britain, 
save possibly Churchill, could hope to fill for so long as two 
nights in a row. 

For 72 nights except for three when there were serious 
storms Billy Graham's preaching filled it. Repeatedly two, 
sometimes three, evening services were necessary to handle the 
overflow. On a network of land wires, the Harringay services 
were sent to capacity audiences in halls and churches in 400 
communities throughout England, Scotland, and Wales. On the 
last day of the Crusade, in the afternoon, 65,000 people filled 
White City, an outdoor stadium; in the evening 120,000 filled 
Wembley Stadium. 

In all, nearly 2,000,000 persons heard Billy Graham. There 
were 40,000 decisions for Christ. 

In all this, no one, save Billy Graham himself, was more 
deeply concerned or more actively engaged than Ruth Bell 
Graham, his wife. Her days in London were filled with engage- 
ments all single-mindedly aimed to help her husband's ministry. 
Every night at Harringay she worked as one of the 600 trained 
counsellors meeting with those who made their public decision 
and came for guidance to the Inquiry Room. 

But Ruth Graham found time to write her parents in North 
Carolina intimate, colorful, deeply moving letters of what was 
happening and her part in it. Those letters tell better, even, 
than statistics or editorial comment, the amazing story of the 
Greater London Crusade. 

They begin late in February, when Billy and Ruth Graham 
and several associates, arriving in England, were greeted in 
the press with an outpouring of scorn and open hostility. Billy 
was headlined as a "Hot Gospeller"; his Crusade, a ''Gospel 
Circus"; his organization, "1 00,000 of Hot GospeP; bis be- 
liefe as Tifty Years Out of Date." Whea^atLcMdon'sWatoloo 

171 



Station, he was met by the biggest crowd since the arrival in 
1924 of Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks, one headline 
was: "Film Stars So Why Not Billy?" Now comes an "expert" 
from "God's Own Country," wrote a Daily Mirror columnist, 
"to tell us what to think and what to believe." 
Ruth Graham wrote: 

"Dear folks: 

"This is all fantastic. Last Tuesday, somewhere between the 
Isle of Wight and Southampton, a tug full of pressmen pulled 
alongside the liner: 25 reporters, 11 photographers. I knew 
they were after Bill's scalp and there was nothing we could do 
but pray for wisdom and be as courteous and gracious as we 
could. Several followed me. Their first observation was: *I see 
you still wear make-up.' Ts it true,* one asked, 'that your hus- 
band carries around his own special jug of water for baptism?' 

"Bill wore a gray flannel sport coat and tie with small gray 
and black checks. So one headlines: *No clerical collar, but my! 
what a lovely tie.' Another told me, 'Mrs. Graham, I am dis- 
appointed in your husband.' 

u Ts that right?' (I can't imagine anyone being disappointed 
inBffl.) 

a *Yes, we expected bright, hand-painted ties, flashy socks, 
and a sort of mass hysteria, but he is quite an ordinary chap.' 

"Ashore, Bill had to be interviewed by television, so I had 
to stand beside him. The first question was: Who invited you 
over here anyway?' Then such killers as, T)o you think you 
can save Britain?' Tton't you think you're more needed in your 
own country?' What do you plan to do about Russia?' Bill's 
answers were wise, really terrific. God sure helps that man! 

"Thetre was one movie star aboard who should have had the 
press. I think one reporter interviewed her. It was ludicrous. 
The greatest reception England has given anyone at South- 
ampton and to a preacher! 

"But we could see God beginning to cause the wrath of man 
172 



to praise Him. As we went through customs, the customs man 
said, 'Welcome to England and good luck, sir. We need you.* 
A dock worker came up and said, 'God bless you, sir. I am 
praying for you.' At the station, a little soldier recognized Bill 
and came over saying he was a Christian and that a group from 
the Royal Army Medical Corps was coming to Harringay: *God 
bless you, sir. We are praying for you/ As we boarded our 
third-class compartment, the conductor said to Bill, Tm not 
much on religion, but could do with some.' 

"It was about an hour to London. We had Bible and prayers. 
The train pulled in at Waterloo station at 1 : 19 and we stepped 
out into a perfect mob. Cheers rose, then a few familiar faces 
grew out of the blur. The press of the crowd was really terrific. 
But everyone had a wonderful smile and the air was filled with: 
*God bless you/ 'Welcome to England.' Suddenly the crowd 
began singing: *And Can It Be That I Shall Gain an Interest 
in My Savior's Crown?' By getting on something high I could 
see Bill's slow progress through the throng of singing, cheering, 
laughing folks." 

(Total cost of the London campaign was about $400,000. 
More than one half was paid by the Billy Graham Evangelistic 
Association of Minneapolis, including the salaries of Billy 
Graham and his associates. Each of the team members, includ- 
ing Billy Graham, took a 50 per cent salary cut while in Britain. 

Chairman of the London campaign committee was Major- 
General Wilson Haffendon; foremost among his early support- 
ers was Dr. H. R. Gough, Anglican Bishop of Barking. "The 
manl most feel sorry for in this Bifly Graham business," wrote 
Hanon Swaffer, columnist for the Socialist Daily Herald, "is 
the Bishop of Barking, who, after an honoured life, has be- 
come the American evangelisfs best-known British sponsor.**) 

"Dearest folks: 

"Some cute stories came out of that welcome at the station. 

173 



Bill was being interviewed by a reporter from the Herald. He 
asked if Bill didn't feel that the crowd at Waterloo were fanat- 
ics, to which Bill replied: 'Not unless you consider some of 
your leading clergymen, leading generals, members of Parlia- 
ment, and the good Christian people who have been praying 
for these meetings not unless you consider them fanatics.* 

"That afternoon I had three interviews. One wanted a story 
from my angle: *Is your husband difficult to live with?' T)o you 
have to handle him with kid gloves?' 'Do you ever feel a twinge 
of jealousy over the attentions your husband receives?' 

"At six o'clock we had a team meeting in the lounge. There 
was a straight-from-the-shoulder talk from Bill on how we must 
conduct ourselves as Americans in England. General Wilson 
Haffendon spoke. When the Bishop of Barking came in we had 
just requested a prayer for him as the Herald had been most 
unkind. Hanon Swaffer had been unkindest of all. The general 
said, *Now don't you bother to pray for the Bishop. He is where 
Christ put him. You get busy and pray for Hanon Swaffer.* 
And the Bishop agreed heartily and stood saying, T)on't you 
worry about me, Billy. If for a few days the newspapers have 
made me appear a fool for Christ's sake, I shall be only too 
happy to appear a fool with you.* 

*Did I tell you that last night in one cold, unheated building 
800 people prayed all night long on their knees for this meet- 
ing? 

"Lucy Gough and I went to shop for some long evening 
gloves since on Thursday Lord and Lady Luke are to enter- 
tain us at Claridge's with a terrifying list of lords and ladies. 
It was this evening that Bifl burst in having just returned from 
meeting Lord and Lady Luke and scared stiff over the guest 
list and the idea of having to address them/ 1 

"Dearest folks: 

"Where was I? I think Bill had just come back from meeting 
Lord and Lady Luke. We dressed and were ready at 7:45. It 
174 



was stated on the engraved invitations: *Full Dress and Decora- 
tions.' That meant medals. Claridge's is sort of a Waldorf- 
Astoria in London. Only more so. 

'The guests were already assembling so we quickly checked 
our wraps and were taken into a lovely room where we were 
stopped by a man in bright red cutaway coat and knee-britches. 
He asked our name and then announced in a loud, deliberate 
voice: *Dr. and Mrs. Billy Graham.' We stood in line with Lord 
and Lady Luke and one by one the guests arrived, were an- 
nounced by the man in red, shook hands with us, and then 
went through and were served cocktails, I thinlc you would call 
them. Even the evangelical bishops over here take wine and 
sherry. Bill and I were so full of orange juice I thought we 
would never want to see any again. 

"The guests were a charming and impressive group: ninety 
in all. I couldn't help wondering what would be the outcome. 
If even a few of them could be won for Christ, they could win 
so many others. Bill gave a special message on why our two 
great nations that have stood together in every other way must 
stand together spiritually, and closed with a brief word of testi- 
mony. 

"The Bishop of Worcester told me there is not a denomina- 
tion in England which has not had some great leader who was 
a product of Dwight L. Moody's meetings and not a city that 
has not had a civic leader who came to Christ under his min- 
istry. We pray it may be so again. AH London is watching, talk- 
ing, waiting. Something is going to happen. 

"Friday noon Bill spoke at a luncheon of nearly 1,000 min- 
isters. Friday night he was guest at a dinner at the House of 
Commons. Around 300 attended* Saturday the team had a 
luncheon with all the committee. All our old friends were there 
with some very important people, but mostly (tear, sweet, godly 
folks who longed to see a great spiritual awakening come to 
Britain and were willing to climb out on a limb inviting Bill 
over 4 sight unseen.' * 

175 



(At Harringay, on Monday evening, March 1, Billy Graham 
preached the first sermon of the Crusade. Nearly 200 news- 
papermen, many still gunning for Billy, were present. "All the 
tricks of the modern demagogue," wrote one. Someone re- 
marked, "Only the people seem to be for Billy.") 

"Dearest folks: 

"Last night it was cold and snowing. Jerry called from Har- 
ringay about six saying only a couple of thousand had arrived. 
Bill looked stunned. Poor man: a splitting headache, and I 
knew it was nerves. We got there and practically no one was 
going in. They all seemed to be rushing by to the dog races 
just behind Harringay. Then at the door: 'The Arena is 
jammed!* What a sight! And what a thrill to hear them sing: 
'AH Hail the Power of Jesus' Name!' How they can sing! Bill 
brought a message on 'Does God Matter?' 

"Two hundred and twenty-one came forward. God is doing 
abundantly, way and beyond all we asked." 

"Dear folks: 

"Briefly to bring you up to date. Saturday night by six the 
Arena was about half filled with people who had no reserva- 
tions. As the 7:30 service was completely booked by coach 
parties, they called Bill to hurry over and closed the doors at 
6:30 and had a wonderful service. Then, at 7:15, they dis- 
missed that crowd and let in the reserved crowd outside. Police- 
men said between 30,000 and 35,000 were waiting. There were 
11,000 from Wales alone. 

"The house mikes were turned off and the entire congrega- 
tion sang, 'Guide Me O Thou Great Jehovah* thrilling, majes- 
tic, imploring. Later the dear folks from Wales sang, 1 Will 
Sing of My Redeemer* to their old Welsh tune. They break into 
parts and sing in strong tenors as if their hearts would break. 
And you're quite sure yours will. 

"After the second service, they were dismissed and hundreds 
176 



more who had waited patiently outside were let in. Bill 
preached a third sermon.* 9 

"Dearest family: 

"Thursday Bill spoke at the London School of Economics. 
Brother, they gave him a bad time, I guess. When he was 
introduced, the professor said, This is the first time a minister 
has been on that platform. We don't allow them here. This 
school was founded on secularism.' (Deafening applause. ) Bill 
joked along with them, then got dead serious and told them 
what Christ had meant to him, what Christ had done for him. 
They could take it or leave it 

"They were listening closely when suddenly a student 
crashed through an upstairs window and stood there scratch- 
ing himself like an ape. Bill joined in the laughter, then re- 
marked, 'He reminds me of my ancestors/ Everyone laughed 
*Of course,* Bill continued, *all my ancestors came from Brit- 
ain.' That brought down the house. Then Bill gave it to them 
with both barrels. After he left they started calling the office 
wanting to debate with Bill, complained he had crammed reli- 
gion down their throats. Bill isn't here to argue or debate. 

"A schoolteacher has sent us a sheaf of prayers her little 
nine- and ten-year-olds had written in Bill's behalf and asked 
her to send to him. They are the sweetest things, all very for- 
mal. One I will never forget ended: 'And dear God, do for 
Dr. Billy Graham all that you possibly can/ ** 

(From London and elsewhere throughout Great Britain, 
where church membership and attendance had reached an all- 
time low, reports now began to come to the Campaign Com- 
mittee of a marked increase of worshipers, of unprecedented 
numbers applying for church membership, of volunteers for 
Christian work. "It is not too much to say," said the London 
Times, "that Mr. Graham and his associates, like the evangeii- 

177 



cal Protestants here, have been surprised at the scale of the 
Crusade's success so far.") 

"Dearest family: 

"Did I tell you about one young woman converted at Har- 
ringay? She got off the bus next day looking for a Church of 
England clergyman and found one at St. Paul's Church. She 
told him what had happened and asked him how she could 
get to the mission field the quickest. Then she told him what 
had happened at work that morning when she walked in. The 
people with whom she worked looked at her curiously and one 
finally asked, 'Good Lord, what has happened to you?' 'That's 
exactly what has happened to me/ she replied. The good Lord 
has come into my heart' 

"One night I was introduced to a rather rugged-looking 
white-haired man who, when he found I was Mrs. Graham, 
took my hand in a most un-English way and kissed it He 
was a pit miner up from Newcastle. He had spent his entire 
year's vacation pay in London attending the meetings. 

"I know I have made some bad faux pas. But the worst I 
have discovered: I was talking to the Bishop of Worcester and 
asked if he had attended any of Mr. Moody's meetings. He 
looked a bit strange and said, *No, I was not quite old enough.' 
I have learned since what I should have known long ago, that 
Mr. Moody preached here eighty years ago." 

**Dearest family: 

"Harringay was packed again. I sat beside Sandra, the little 
Russian girl. She has a Bible now, but I had to help her find 
her way. She is growing beautifully. 

"Saturday afternoon there was another tea for young women 
converts. It was wonderful. There was a terrific testimony by 
a drama student who was converted last week. She has a mar- 
velous personality and a sense of humor. She kept putting off 
Christ for fear He might interfere with hex good times. And 
178 



her idea of a rip-roaring good time was an all-night party. In 
fact, she had one scheduled herself for last week. It was a 
*Heaven or Hell' party. You went dressed as a citizen of one 
or the other place. She had kept coming to Harringay and 
kept fighting off conviction. She knew for one thing if she re- 
ceived Christ she would have to call off that party, and that 
she could not do. 

"But finally the conviction got so heavy she knew it was 
*now or never* and she gave in and yielded her heart and life 
to Christ Her eyes fairly danced as she told of the peace and 
joy that have been hers since. Of course word got round the 
drama school of her conversion, due to the canceled Heaven 
and Hell* affair, and she is carrying on as a jolly good witness. 

"One wonderful thing is the way Christians are bringing 
non-Christians. One man has started 'Operation Andrew* in 
his community. They have brought, so far, close to 300 uncon- 
verted friends to the services, of which 76 have been gloriously 
converted. 

"You all keep praying we will reach the right people, say 
the right things, accept the right invitations and so on. I am 
not interested in social engagements for the sake of social en- 
gagements. But if only we could win some of those wonderful 
people for Christ. As I have said before, I am the world's worst 
soul-winner. 5 * 

"Dearest folks: 

"I am still laughing and there is some man in London with 
a mighty red face. This is how it all happened. On Sunday, after 
lunching, I headed for Hyde Park Corner. There was a huge 
crowd and about eight or so people holding forth. Well, great 
drops of rain began to falL I had left my umbrella, so started for 
shelter. As I headed for the hotel someone fell in beside me. 
It was a young man with a cigarette. 

" Taidoo,* he said, *where are you going?* (Woe is me, I 
thought, what's up aow?) 

179 



" 'Back to my hotel.* 

" 'An American?' 

" That's right' and all the time we were dodging traffic 
and the drops were coming thick and fast. 

" 'Have time for a cup of coffee?' he asked. 

" 'No thanks, I'd better get back/ 

" 'How about tomorrow night? Are you busy?' 

" 'Yes/ 1 replied, Tm going out to Harringay. Couldn't you 
come?' 

" 'Perhaps I could. How about Tuesday night?' 

" Til be going out to Harringay Tuesday night, too.' (I was 
enjoying it by now.) 

" Tuesday night, too! Well, will you be going to Harringay 
every night this week?' he asked, incredulous. 

" 'Every night,' I assured him. 

*' 'You wouldn't be connected with Billy Graham, would 
you?' 

44 Bis wife,' I replied and burst out laughing, 'But I do hope 
you will come' as I turned down Oxford Street. 

*' *I might,' he croaked, and disappeared." 

(How the tone of the press had begun to change toward 
Billy and the Crusade is clear from the account of William 
Hickey, columnist for the Daily Express, of a night at Har- 
ringay: 

"We parked the car in front of the rows of coaches that 
had come from the South, the West, and the North. We passed 
the queues and went in. They were singing hymns. The force 
of it hit you. I don't know quite where. But I felt different 

"Billy Graham is not a particularly good preacher. But it 
doesn't matter. The choir leader and his wretched trombone 
didn't matter a tinker's cuss. What did matter was that thou- 
sands of British people were there who were feeling the need 
of God. A button in the human mind had beep pressed and a 
180 



fantastic reaction had taken place, a reaction that made those 
releases of atomic energy small-time stuff, 

" 'Shall we pray?' said Graham. Every head was bowed, 
Every eye closed. 1 am going to ask you to come and stand 
quietly here, to surrender yourself to Christ* And thai the 
wooden boards of the hall started to creak under the footfalls. 
I shall never forget that creaking as long as I live. 

"Some hurried. Some walked slowly with measured tread, 
The choir was singing softly, the same verse over and over 
again. A man and woman walked forward hand in hand. A man 
followed them in tears, his head bowed. They all went forward 
singing just as they did in Nero's arenas, with a smile of un- 
earthly happiness on their lips. 

* This is God's doing,' said Graham. "There is no other 
answer.' 

"He never spoke more truly.") 

"Dearest family: 

"While I was winding up your letter, I heard band music. 
They were playing 'Whosoever Will, May Come/ It could be 
none other than the Salvation Army which I cannot resist So on 
went my coat and off in search. They were conducting a meet- 
ing across Oxford Street The last hymn they played was *What 
a Friend We Have in Jesus.' 

"Suddenly I looked up and there on the opposite comer 
stood the Negro strip-teaser who is staying at our hotel. She 
is a striking-looking girl who came over on the boat She is 
rather aloof and I can imagine why. With a hotel full of us 
preachers and what have you she probably feds: 'Ye Jews have 
no dealings with us Samaritans/ I can't help liking her. I 
watched her closely. She never moved. She drank it in. Then 
they closed and she never moved. She watched them out of 
sight I started bade slowly, hoping perhaps she would cstch 
up and I could just pass the time of day. But she kept behind 
me and I could hear her singing in a throaty voice, *What a 

181 



Friend We Have in Jesus.' It must have stirred memories in 
her heart. We never know when we are witnessing for Christ 
just who is listening. 

"Last night a counsellor told me of a man he had talked to. 
He came from down on the south coast. His wife, for months, 
had been praying for his salvation, unknown to him. He was 
unmoved. They came to Harringay. He was unmoved. Un- 
daunted, she continued praying. One night as they tucked 
their little girl in bed, she said, Mummy, I'd like to have Jesus 
come into my heart/ Even this did not touch him. 

Then one day he was down on the beach walking by himself 
when he was suddenly overpowered with a sense of sinfulness 
and guilt. When he got home he told his wife, 'I wish I could 
go to Harringay again, but I haven't the money.' His wife said, 
*I have been saving for an Easter outfit.' They found there was 
just enough for two round-trip tickets. So they came and he 
got converted. She didn't get her Easter outfit, but, as the coun- 
sellor said, 'he got a robe of righteousness.' 

"And then there was this surgeon here in London, a woman 
and quite successful. She was given three tickets, so took two 
patients to Harringay. Both were converted and the surgeon 
says they haven't been back since for professional services, 
'Which proves/ said the Englishman who gave the tickets, 'that 
what some folks need is doctrine instead of doctoring.' 

"As I walked into Harringay, I was stopped by a very attrac- 
tive young couple. A really pretty girl and a laughing, hand- 
some husband with a blond little girl. 'Don't you remember 
us?' they asked. Then I did. They were the couple who had 
come forward Monday afternoon, the Spitfire pilot and his 
wife on the verge of breaking up. So happy I could hardly 
believe they were the same couple. Tou've made my wife 
so happy,' said the pilot I felt like saying, It is you, sir, 
who have made her happy/ Really, his hard face was absolutely 
transformed. But it wasn't he or the general or me, but the 
Lord thaf s what 9 s so thrilling." 
182 



"Dearest family: 

"Sunday noon Billy, Jerry, and I left for Cambridge, a gor- 
geous drive. The main service, held after the churches were 
out Sunday evening, was in Great St. Mary's Church. There 
were two overflow services. Billy stopped at each and greeted 
the packed crowds and then spoke at Great St. Mary's and his 
message was relayed to the other two. The church was jammed, 
sitting in the aisles, on the steps. Undergraduates only and 
how they listened. 

"The invitation was clear-cut Then he asked all those who 
wished to do so to leave quietly while those who wished to 
receive Christ as both Savior and Lord to remain. I raised my 
head. It looked as if the church was still full. I couldn't believe 
my eyes. Bill couldn't either, evidently. He explained again, 
quite simply and clearly. He made it as hard as he dared. Then 
to make sure he asked again for those who wished for the first 
time to receive Christ in their lives to come to the front for 
booklets and prayer. They all got up to go, jamming the aisles 
till they had again to be seated. The Christian undergraduates 
stepped in among them to get names and addresses. All was 
deathly quiet in that old church, with a wooden crucifix look- 
ing down from the wall and stone slabs marking the graves. 

"God is working in incredible ways.** 

(To the Daily Mirror columnist who had greeted him as an 
unwelcome American "export" Billy Graham wrote, asking for 
the privilege of meeting him- The columnist, Cassandra, re- 
plied: "Will you,** he said, "meet someone fairly hell-bent and 
not averse to a little quiet wickedness? Why should we not 
meet in a pub called The Baptist's Head*? You could drink 
what you choose while I sin quietly with a little beer/* 

After their meeting Cassandra wrote: "He came into The 
Baptisf s Head absolutely at home a teetotaler and an ab- 
stainer able to make himself completely at ease in the spit and 
sawdust department, a difficult thing to do. 

183 



"Billy Graham looks ill. He has lost fourteen pounds in 
this nonstop merciless campaign. But this fact he can carry 
back to North Carolina with him. It is that in this country, 
battered and squeezed as no victorious nation has ever been 
before and disillusioned almost beyond belief, he has been wel- 
comed with an exuberance that almost makes us blush behind 
our precious Anglo-Saxon reserve. 

"I never thought that friendliness had such a sharp cutting 
edge. I never thought that simplicity could cudgel us sinners 
so damned hard. We live and learn," 

On a rainy Saturday afternoon, May 22, Billy Graham 
preached the Crusade's concluding sermons to two outdoor 
audiences. The first filled White City Stadium with 70,000 
people. At the second, 120,000 more than were ever drawn 
there by the 1948 Olympics filled Wembley Stadium. When, 
with the Archbishop of Canterbury at his side, Billy Graham 
gave the invitation, more than 2,000 walked across the turf to 
stand, in the downpour before the improvised altar, to register 
their "decision for Christ") 

"Dearest family: 

"Well, it's all over, yet in one way it has only begun. But 
first let me back up to where I left off. The service at Harringay 
on Friday night would have been sad if we had let ourselves 
realize it would be the last. It was absolutely jammed. Bill had 
to pick his way through a narrow aisle to the pulpit. How they 
sang! 

"The Bishop of C was back on the platform. (He's the 

sweet old man who refused to pray before and then changed 
his mind.) Cassandra was there and I don't know who all. 
The Inquiry Room was packed and they just kept coming and 
coming. 

"The wing commander came by just to say goodbye again 
and how their lives had been changed. Remember, he is the 
Spitfire pilot who came forward with his wife the day Bill spoke 
184 



on the home. They have come back night after night He looks 
like a new man now. 

"Right there is an example of what makes the hardness of 
this work worthwhile. You meet a young couple, ready to break 
up, making one last desperate effort to solve their problems. 
You watch them come to Christ You see the change that takes 
place. A Christian home is started. So you see, if White Stadium 
had been empty, if the church had continued to stand apart, 
if the press had sent Bill off as skeptically as they greeted him, 
it still would have been worth it all. That is only one example. 
Only eternity will disclose them all. 

"If only you could have seen the sea of busses going to 
Wembley. I was put in the Royal Box, of all places, but on 
the way I was stopped and introduced to the Archbishop of 
Canterbury and Mrs. Fisher, also to the Lord Mayor of London 
and his wife. 

"The enormous stadium is spread out before us like a great, 
unbelievably big oval packed with flecks of color which are 
people. People at the end of the stadium were all standing. 
Scores had camped at Wembley overnight. I can't begin to 
explain it: the coldness of the weather, the immensity of the 
stadium, the thousands upon thousands of people, the quietness 
of it all, the sense of God's presence. The sermon was sim- 
plicity itself. At the invitation hundreds upon hundreds 
streamed forward. Then the Archbishop prayed simply, 
clearly, movingly, and pronounced the sweetest blessing I have 
ever heard. 

"And the reporters! They are friendlier, but just bewil- 
dered. ^Whatever it is that Billy Graham has got,' wrote one 
of them, 'he's got more of it than anyone else.' The people were 
so sweet singing To God the Glory' and calling out *God bless 
you/ 'Come back soon' as the bus with all the team on it pulled 
slowly off. We would have felt sad, but there was too much 
happiness and gratitude in our hearts for everything." 

185 



(On board the departing bus was a friend of the Grahams', 
an American newspaperman. "As the team's private bus inched 
through the milling crowd," he wrote, "Billy Graham stood in 
the aisle and said, 1 want all of us to bow our heads right now 
and give thanVs to God for all He has done and is doing. This 
is His doing and let none fail to give Him credit.' 

"Only moments before, the young man had stood before 
120,000 people with the Word of God in his hand, in his head 
and in his heart. He now stood with bowed head, just another 
sinner saved by grace. 

"A few seconds after the end of the prayer, Bev Shea began 
to sing softly, 'Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow/ 
Others took up the words and the song grew in volume as the 
bus passed along through the quiet streets." 

That night the London Evening News published a special 
"Billy Graham Edition," with front and back pages wholly de- 
voted to the evangelist and the Crusade. Across two front-page 
columns, the lead story began with the Gospel of Luke: "What 
went ye out into the wilderness for to see? A reed shaken with 
the wind? A prophet? Yea, I say unto you, and much more 
than a prophet.") 



186 



11: Europe and Asia: 

The universal hunger 



THAT, in many countries vastly different from his own in 
religion, race, and culture, he meets with an unprecedented 
outpouring of interest and response is for Billy Graham per- 
sonally a source of continuing astonishment. On the level of 
things spiritual where he does most of his reflecting he is 
not astonished. On that level he would only be astonished if 
what happens failed to happen. 

"There are all kinds of hunger in our world,'* he says, "But 
the most nearly universal of them all is spiritual hunger. For 
this there is one universal answer: the Good News of the Gospel 
of Jesus Christ. Even though I did not believe that by faith 
as I do I would be forced to believe it by what, in so many 
nations, among so many people, I have seen. 

"There is a sentence in a song we sing in our Crusade: 'For 
He has broken every barrier down/ He does. If He failed to 
do that I would never preach another sermon. But He doesn't 
fail." 

In the summer of 1955 following the Crusade in Glasgow 
and the mammoth meetings in London's Wembley Stadium 
Billy Graham undertook what, up to then, was described by 

187 



some observers as his most "hazardous venture": a four-week 
mission to the continent of Europe. He preached in twelve cities 
in seven countries. In every meeting save his appearances 
before U.S. servicemen in Germany he spoke through an 
interpreter. Exclusive of radio audiences, he was heard by 
more than 500,000 people. 

"Many were the predictions," said the Christian Century, 
"that once Mr. Graham left the area in which English is spoken 
and the Protestant evangelical tradition is still predominant, 
his appeal would fall flat. If the numbers of those who wanted 
to hear him are any indication, the precise opposite turned out 
to be the case." 

In Paris where he spoke on five successive nights French 
Protestantism had never before undertaken a project so ambi- 
tious. The huge Velodrome d'Hiver, where the meetings were 
held, was, I am sure, one of the unlikeliest and least worshipful 
auditoriums in which the Gospel was ever preached. The most 
prominent features of the decor rimming the balconies were 
the cognac advertisements. 

En route to the first night's meeting, Billy Graham uncer- 
tain what or how large the crowd would be and whether it 
would respond remarked that "if we have as many as 5,000 
people tonight and 100 decisions Fll think the meeting was all 
that we have prayed for." The audience was nearly 10,000. 
There were more than 600 "decisions" the largest number 
ever recorded in a Crusade meeting of that size. 

At the conclusion of five such meetings, the Paris newspaper 
Le Monde commented: "Is not the availability of such crowds 
symptomatic in itself? It would be unjust for us to indulge in 
irony on the American style of such a religious manifestation. 
. . . Better bow before the spiritual dynamism of this man, 
whose formula and phrases are perhaps infantile, but who 
touches his public. . . . His technique may offend European 
intellectuals, but the fact remains that he is successful. Hie 
French Protestants who, despite some reservations, did not 
188 



hesitate to ask him to come to our country made no mistake." 

One of the French Protestants who had reservations so 
many, prior to the meetings, that he washed his hands of the 
whole affair was Dr. Marc Boegner, for many years French 
Protestantism's foremost leader, formerly a president of the 
World Council of Churches. Weeks later, at a meeting attended 
by more than 1,000 Parisians who had made "decisions," Dr. 
Boegner from a seat in the rear of the hall got up to "testify" 
as to several people he had previously known and whose lives 
had been "transformed" at the Velodrome dUiver: 

*1 didn't take any part in the campaign," he said, "and I'm 
sorry I didn't. I have been shown very clearly that the decisions 
were real and I believe they will be lasting. I want to state in 
public that if Dr. Billy Graham returns to Paris for a campaign, 
I will be privileged and happy to support the meetings in any 
way possible." 

It was the same in every city. In Geneva, according to the 
Associated Press, the crowd filled the stadium and "spilled out 
over the grassy hills." In Zurich: "More than 60,000 persons 
assembled in two stadiums, 200 yards apart" to hear him. 
There were 30,000 in Frankfurt. From Mannheim Ruth 
Graham wrote: "There must have been 50,000 present every 
seat filled and thousands sitting and standing on the turf. There 
is such hunger here in Germany. They come forward so 
quickly and quietly. This time there was no sound at all, for 
the turf deadened the footfalls. Twilight was beginning to settle 
as they came: husky young men in leather shorts, soldiers, an 
old woman in a shawl, a man with a hard face. They stood 
quietly, hands folded in front of them as they are taught to 
do when praying. And the man with the hard face wiped his 
eyes with his handkerchief. There were over 1,500. If only 
we knew the story of each. Someday we will." 

Six months later, Billy Graham put his faith to an even 
severer test and saw it validated by an even greater success. 
Early in 1956 he made an extensive tour of India, including, 

189 



also, one-meeting stops in Manila, Bangkok, Hong Kong, For- 
mosa, Tokyo, and Seoul. The story of this mission particu- 
larly of the mission to India is without precedent, not only 
in the ministry of Billy Graham, but, more importantly, in the 
history of religious contacts between the East and the West. 

Not since the war has any emissary from the West diplo- 
mat, statesman, or head of government received in Asia, from 
people of all classes and beliefs, a spontaneous reception so 
great or so enthusiastic as that accorded him. No message from 
the West has been heard with greater eagerness and under- 
standing than his simple, spiritual appeal. His tour, at first 
dubiously received by some free-world diplomats, proved to be 
for both America and the free world a spectacular victory. 

In India, Billy Graham's arrival followed, by only six weeks, 
the propaganda journey of Nikita Khrushchev and Nikolai Bul- 
ganin, chiefs of the Soviet Russian government and spokesmen 
for world communism. Preaching hate for the democratic West, 
the crowds that greeted them were hailed as a Communist 
"triumph" and aroused concern in every free-world govern- 
ment 

But the "triumph" of the Russians was officially promoted 
by the Indian government and by the dominant Congress 
party. Wherever they went, India's revered Prime Minister, 
Jawaharlal Nehru, traveled with them. In every city, to insure 
vast crowds, schools, government offices, many businesses were 
closed. 

In striking contrast, Billy Graham's visit had only the back- 
ing of India's Protestant churches. In a population of 380,- 
000,000, the total membership of those churches is less than 
5,000,000. Most of that membership is drawn from India's 
villages and from the lowest, poorest classes. Yet the crowds 
Christians and non-Christians which came to hear Billy 
Graham equaled, in some instances greatly surpassed, those 
that gathered to hear Khrushchev and Bulganin. 

Of 2,500,000 people in the city of Bombay, where Billy 
190 



Graham landed, there are said to be only 16,000 Christians. 
Yet, for his public meeting there, nearly 30,000 reserved-seat 
tickets had been given out, on application, before his arrival. 
Communist-led political rioting, which was under way when 
he arrived, forced the cancellation of that meeting. Since bloody 
street fighting was still in progress it was expected that not more 
than a half-dozen reporters would appear at his press confer- 
ence. There were more than forty a near-record, reportedly 
larger than the number who met with Krushchev and Bulganin. 
Almost all were Indian and non-Christian. 

"I have come to India," he told them, "with an attitude of 
learning, for we have much to learn from you. India is a deeply 
religious country. Some seem to believe that Christianity is a 
Western religion. That is wrong. Christ was born in the East. 
There were Christian churches in India before America was 
discovered. I have not come here to get into political entangle- 
ments. Our message is simply the Kingdom of God." 

"Welcome, Billy," was the headline in the Bombay Free 
Press. Instead of preaching ill will, "Dr. Billy Graham," said 
an editorial in the Bombay Evening News, "is on a mission to 
bring man and God closer together." 

Billy Graham wrote in his diary: 

'The most amazing and startling part of that press confer- 
ence was that none of the questions had to do with communism, 
Americanism, John Foster Dulles, economic aid to India any 
of the things you would think they were most interested in. 
Every question was of a theological or spiritual nature. They 
wanted to know about conversion, the Bible, the new birth, 
how the teachings of Jesus apply in everyday life. They weren't 
so much interested in what I believed as in what the Bible had 
to say. I felt almost as though I should have given an invitation. 
But if the Lord ever allowed me to preach the Gospel it was 
right there to those reporters." 

His first public meeting was in the south India city of Madras. 
"Seldom in his crowd-filled career," reported Time magazine, 

191 



"had he met with such enthusiasm. Madras was clogged with 
out-of-towners seeking rooms; one group of 100 rode the train 
four days and nights and one man walked 400 miles to hear 
him. Caste was ignored in the stampede to see Billy.* 9 

In his diary he wrote: 

"Every church compound is filled. Hundreds will be sleeping 
on the sidewalks. There is a spirit of expectancy. Christians 
have started round-the-clock prayer meetings: more than 5,000 
people praying every hour of the night tonight. This is God 
at work. . . ." 

At seven o'clock the next morning he spoke to a meeting 
limited, by ticket, to Christian pastors and workers. When he 
arrived, "people were pouring in from everywhere. Everybody 
had a Bible and a notebook. More than 7,500 came the 
largest ministers* meeting, of course, I ever addressed. I began 
to speak just as the sun came up in a gold and purple sky. 
When I stood up I knew God was with me. I could feel the 
concentrated prayers of thousands of people all over the 
world. . . . 

"Immediately after the service, the ministers crowded 
around the platform, wanting either to touch me or get an 
autograph or just look a little closer into my face. I almost 
felt as Peter did when 'all the people' crowded round him after 
he had healed the lame man: *Men of Israel, why marvel ye 
at this? or why look ye so earnestly on us as though by our own 
power or holiness we had made this man to walk?' I was hum- 
bled by it all and felt myself unworthy even to loosen the san- 
dals of many of these simple, but great men of God. . . " 

At a similar sunrise service the next morning the attendance 
was more than 10,000. 

For their single appearance in that city, the Russians, 
Krushchev and Bulganin, drew 22,000 people to the Madras 
stadium. Billy Graham, his sermons translated by two inter- 
preters into Tamil and Telugu, spoke on three successive nights 
in the same stadium. His audience, on the first night, numbered 
192 



32,000, on the second 37,000, on the third more than 40,000. 
He wrote: 

"I noticed immediately the quietness of the crowd: practi- 
cally no talking, no moving about. Hundreds had been there 
since two o'clock, sitting in the boiling sun. When we arrived, 
thousands of them had been there, singing as they waited, for 
two to three hours. 

"What a sea of people: thousands squatting on grass mats 
in front of me; other thousands standing behind me and then, 
on the houses all around, people crowding the roofs. . . ." 

Prior to this mission, Billy Graham, during weeks of study, 
had prepared eight sermons especially adapted to what he be- 
lieved to be the different and distinctive interests and needs of 
the Indian people. On that first night in Madras he started with 
the first of these special sermons. He never finished it. 

This is his account of what happened: 

"I had not been preaching five minutes before it came to 
me, as clearly as though I had been audibly interrupted, that 
this vast gathering of people had not come to hear the Gospel 
adapted to India. They had come solely to hear the Gospel: 
the Good News in which, as much in our day as in St Paul's, 
as much in India as in the United States, England, Scotland, 
or France, 'there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcision nor 
uncircumcision, Barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free, but Christ 

9 

"And there, as I was preaching, I was given a new text and 
a new sermon. Thereafter, wherever I went, I preached that 
sermon from that text." 

The text was John 3:16: 

"For God so loved the world, that He gave His Only Begot- 
ten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, 
but have everlasting life." 

"I had been told," he wrote, "that the Hindu is different, 
that the Indian is different, that they would not respond to 
the same message, the same invitation we have preached in 

193 



America, Britain, and Europe. But what I gave was the same, 
simple Gospel message and then I gave the same invitation. 
I tried to lay down all the conditions of accepting and follow- 
ing Christ, Between four and five thousand came nearly all 
adults. They came more quietly, more earnestly, more thought- 
fully, it seemed to me, than any who ever responded in any 
of our meetings anywhere. All you could hear was the tramp, 
tramp, tramp of bare and sandaled feet. 

"Yes, the same God Who was with us at Wembley and Har- 
ringay and Kelvin Hall is with us here in India," 

In the agitation to swing India toward communism, there 
are, Billy Graham was told, two kinds of Communists. The first 
"the Unconscious Communists" are recruited "among the 
masses of the poor who have no idea what it's all about except 
that they have been promised more land and rice." 

Traveling in south India, he met some of these. This is his 
story of the encounter: 

"In one section we passed a number of Communist parades: 
flags waving, shouting their slogans and songs, giving the famil- 
iar clenched-fist salute. We got out and marched along three 
or four hundred yards with one group. I would wave at them 
and smile and they would smile back aH very friendly. In 
another group I got out again and asked Bishop Jacob to 
translate for me, I held up my hand and the crowd quieted 
down. 

"Then I began to preach. I told them what Christ meant to 
me; that He had the only answer to their problems and the 
world's problems; that I had come to India not to talk politics 
but only to talk Christ. 

"As I spoke about the change that Christ could bring in 
their lives, they began to drop their clenched fists. They began 
to lower their hammer-and-sickle banners. They stood quietly, 
it seemed to me reverently, until I finished. 

"Of course they want an answer to their problems of rlce 
land, schools, health. But it is frightening that so often the 
194 



Communists make their answer so much more appealing and 
seemingly more practical than we Christians make Christ's." 

Then there is the second kind of Communists "the Intelli- 
gent Communists" recruited largely from India's college and 
university students. "If India goes Communist/' Billy Graham 
was told, "it's students will lead the way." Their influence 
in Madras, an intellectual center, is reportedly great and 
growing. There, warned of the hostile reception he might 
receive, Billy Graham spoke as he did wherever he went 
to a student gathering: 

"It was seven o'clock barely sunup! But they were there: 
lovely girls in their saris, the men in all kinds of assorted 
apparel. There were more than ten thousand of them! 

"I spoke on the subject: 'Who is Christ?* I tried to present 
the Gospel as clearly and as straight as I knew how. They 
listened carefully, attentively, quietly. Many hundreds of them, 
I could see, were taking notes. 

"Perhaps it is true that communism is in the ascendant in 
the colleges of Madras. But this morning it was the Spirit of 
God that had the ascendancy. When I gave the invitation, hun- 
dreds came out of their seats and boldly took their stand for 
Jesus Christ. What a sight: to see these students marching, 
not for communism, but for Christ, 

"Whether true, I have no way of knowing, but Indians told 
me that this morning's meeting was the most remarkable stu- 
dent gathering ever held in free India. I could only thank God 
for the glorious privilege of witnessing for Him to such a com- 
pany of India's future leaders." 

The morning after Billy Graham arrived in Kottayam, a city 
of only 40,000 but a Christian stronghold near India's south- 
ern tip, he was awakened before sunup by the sound of Chris- 
tian singing. In preparation for his meeting that night, more 
than 5,000 Christians had assembled as they did on three 
successive mornings for a four o'clock prayer meeting. Many 
had come on foot and by oxcart from jungle villages scores 

195 



of miles away. Bearing an invitation to Billy Graham to speak 
in their village, one group had walked 114 miles. 

"How many do you expect tonight?" he asked the Bishop 
of the Church of South India. 

"Tonight there will be 75,000; tomorrow night more than 
100,000." 

"Where will you put them? 5 * 

From a nearby cliff, the Bishop pointed out the meeting 
place. It was a hillside rising out of the rice paddies. There, 
for days, a great company of Christian volunteers working 
entirely by hand, carrying the dirt in baskets had been level- 
ing off and filling in until they had built, row on row, a ter- 
raced amphitheater. In three nights, Billy Graham preached 
there to more than a quarter of a million people. 

In Delhi there are no more than 10,000 Christians. But his 
first meeting there drew 20,000. "The biggest indoor congre- 
gation," reported the Times of India, "ever to assemble in the 
Capital." That meeting was presided over by an Indian Prin- 
cess, Rajkumari Amrit Kaur, who in 1930 left her father's 
palace to become a Christian and is now Minister of Health 
in the Nehru cabinet. 

"Billy Graham," she said, introducing him, "is one of those 
rare jewels who tread this earth periodically and draw, by their 
lives and teachings, millions of others closer to God." 

Not only in India, but in Bangkok, Manila, Hong Kong, 
Formosa, Seoul, and Tokyo, Billy Graham with an appeal 
aimed solely "to draw others closer to God" was heard by 
audiences unequaled by any visitor from the West "To a 
mammoth crowd from Manila and outlying provinces," re- 
ported the Manila Chronicle, he said that "the hope for world 
peace lies not in what statesmen, politicians, scientists have 
to say, but in what God says." In Hong Kong, said the South 
China Morning Post, a "huge gathering that filled two foot- 
ball stadia, that came in busses, trams, private cars, taxis, bicy- 
cles, and on foot heard his Gospel message." In Tokyo, said 
196 



the daily Mainishi, "the greatest crowd in Japan's religious his- 
tory, young and old, rich and poor, people from all walks of 
life, turned out to hear Billy Graham as he delivered the words 
of God." An editorial in Tokyo's Nippon Times declared: 
"While Japan is not a Christian nation, she can profit greatly 
from the message which Dr. Billy Graham brings. The truths 
Dr. Graham speaks are universal. They go beyond national 
boundaries, racial differences, and even religious divisions. 
The common denominators of faith, humanity, and peace are 
with all men who believe in the Divine Being whatever their 
individual approach. . . ." 

When, en route home, he stopped for a single meeting in 
Honolulu to which an unprecedented 20,000 came the 
Honolulu Advertiser carried a headline across the top of its 
front page: "You Have a Date at 3 P.M. Today Keep It" 
and underneath an editorial: 

"We people of Hawaii have a date to keep at Honolulu 
Stadium this afternoon when Billy Graham is going to talk 
to us about God. No matter what our personal approach to 
God may be, or whether we believe in God at all, this man 
Graham has something to say to us that will be to our indi- 
vidual profit. . . . Humbly he presents himself as the bearer 
of Christ's message. We would be gravely mistaken to turn 
a deaf ear to Billy Graham this afternoon. The message he 
carries will bring us closer to God. . . ." 

Flying from Hawaii to the U.S. mainland, Billy Graham 
made the final entry in his diary: 

"Eight weeks! One miracle after another! How different, on 
the surface, people are; yet, in their hearts, how much alike! 
What human needs I have seen! What a challenge they are 
to us, so abundantly blessed, to help these Asian peoples help 
themselves! But there is a deeper need, rooted in the same 
spiritual hunger, the hunger after God that I have found 
everywhere. That hunger is the great common denominator 
among all people. 

197 



"Perhaps the Communists can match us in material aid. But 
for this deeper need they have no answer. There is our greatest 
opportunity: to go beyond material and military aid, to help, 
with moral and spiritual leadership, to speed this turn to God. 

" *Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the 
Lord.' " 



198 



12: Religion reaches 

the man in the street 



THIS IS an account of how, in a Billy Graham Crusade, re- 
ligion as something to be talked about, to be faced up to, 
to be declared someway breaks out of the cloisters and away 
from the conventions that usually confine it and permeates 
into the unlikeliest highways and byways an entire com- 
munity. 

Few facts about a Billy Graham Crusade are more startling 
than this. For a brief period of four or six or eight weeks 
too brief a time, some will say, to prove anything there is a 
confrontation of a sort which, unhappily, too seldom happens: 
religion confronting the world on the world's own ground. The 
least expected people in the most unexpected places discuss 
religion openly and without embarrassment: in offices, shops, 
and plants and on the street corners, in luncheon clubs, at 
bridge parties, even at the nineteenth hole.' \Young boys go 
whistling "This Is My Story" along a crowded street and no- 
body seems surprised. Shopgirls, between sales, hum the same 
tune and nobody looks askance or asks, self-consciously, 
"What's that?" 

In bookstores, people you would assume were looking for 

199 



the latest best-selling novel ask, as naturally as though they 
were, to buy a copy of the Bible and often go out carrying it 
under their arm, unwrapped. The hotel porter shows you his 
"stand-by" list of a dozen or so guests who have asked him 
to put them down for tickets for "the revival meeting/* if any 
should show up. A taxi driver opens up the conversation: 
"I'm driving days now, so I can sing nights in the Crusade 
choir." 

And every day, in the newspapers, the Gospel is a front- 
page story as though, after twenty centuries, it had just been 
discovered that that Gospel is not only "Good News," but "The 
Good News." 

I saw this dramatic phenomenon, firsthand and over a period 
of several weeks, during the All-Scotland Crusade in Glasgow 
in the spring of 1955. That is the locale in which I am going 
to describe it But there is ample evidence that what I saw 
happen in Glasgow can be seen during every Billy Graham 
Crusade: religion breaking out of bounds, getting, so to speak, 
out of hand, surmounting, as though they did not exist, all sorts 

of man-contrived barriers and divisions. 

*> 

In every city the extent of the news coverage is, itself, phe- 
nomenal. Several London papers ran special "Billy Graham 
editions." Prior to the Houston, Texas, Crusade, the Houston 
Press ran a seventeen-part biography of Billy Graham. During 
the Crusade in Nashville, Tennessee, the Nashville Banner 
printed each of Billy Graham's twenty-five sermons in full, 
beginning the text, each day, as a front-page story and later, 
"at the request of thousands," making reprints available. 
"Nashville," said the Banner, "has never witnessed anything 
quite like the Billy Graham Crusade." 

"There has been nothing unusual," said an editorial in the 
Seattle Post-Intelligencer, "about the amount of space given 
Graham's meetings. The greater the spiritual awakening which 
arises the better and bigger the news." 

"Judged by any standards," said the Pittsburgh Sun-Tele- 
200 



graph, "Billy Graham's campaign is big news. The Sun- 
Telegraph is giving its reports space and position allotted only 
to major news stories and feels it is justified in doing so. ... 
The conclusion is inescapable that Billy Graham is right." 

Often, the news headlines and stories have an amazingly 
straight-out religious slant. Over a full page of Crusade pic- 
tures, the Detroit Times ran the streamer headline: "Billy 
Graham: 'Let Jesus in Today/ " Over a similar page, the 
headline in the Detroit Free Press was "O Come All Ye Faith- 
ful." 

"Wherever Billy Graham goes," said an editorial in the 
Detroit News, "the celestial balance sheet shows a substantial 
profit." 

At the conclusion of the Houston Crusade, John H. Gurwell 
wrote in the Press: "Billy Graham has left a legacy, a picture 
of God's Kingdom and the beauty of His work, a realization 
in the minds of his listeners that Christ's heart is open. , . . 
All you have to do is enter. * . ." 

In every city, also, there is testimony of the way in which 
religion as a subject of conversation and a matter of personal 
concern pervades the life of the community. 
-""Having seen the Crusade in Washington, D.C., a distin- 
guished Church of England clergyman remarked, "A city be- 
comes almost as Christ-conscious as St. Andrews is golf-con- 
scious. What more could be said?" 

"Everybody is asking himself," said an editorial in the 
Columbia, South Carolina, The State, during the Crusade in 
that city, *Am I a Christian?' That is the biggest compliment 
ever paid to Billy Graham." 

^t the end of the Crusade in Detroit, the mayor said, "Billy 
_rraham has left a spiritual impact on this city that will never 
be erased. We have been made religion conscious." 
^"The entire atmosphere of Shreveport," said an editorial in 
the Shreveport, Louisiana, Journal, "is charged with devotional 
upsurge that cannot be explained away as the result of natural 
^ 201 



causes. It must have shaken the pits of Hell if the Devil was 
looking in." "This campaign/' said Shreveport's mayor, "is the 
greatest thing that has ever happened to our city." 

"This," said an editorial in the London Evening News at the 
end of the meetings in 1955 in Wembley Stadium, "can truly 
be called the phenomenon of the mid-century." 

It is a phenomenon which for the moment at least sometimes 
makes the usual differences between Christians somewhat less 
divisive. In one U.S. city a woman, a Roman Catholic, told 
a member of the Graham team that she had asked her priest 
what his advice would be as to attending a Crusade meeting. 
"My advice," he said, "would be not to attend." "I am sorry," 
she said, "but I think I am going anyway." The priest replied, 
"So am I." 

In another city, Billy Graham played golf one day with a 
Roman Catholic priest who the night before had attended, in 
civilian clothes, a Crusade meeting. "While there," he said, "I 
counted eight other priests all, like me, in 'civvies.' " 

The publicity is also sometimes unexpected. In one city, the 
newspapers ran the photograph of a locked-up liquor store 
which had this sign in its window: 

"Closed at 10 A.M. Get Owner at Home. I'm Out of Busi- 
ness. Was Converted Last Night" 

In another city this advertisement appeared: 

"At f s 

THE WORLD'S GREATEST BARGAIN 

and 
Sour-Pusses 

'The next time you meet an old sour-puss who was born in 
fee objective case and weaned on a pickle and he starts talking 
about afl the money that Billy Graham and his associates are 
going to get out of this revival, just tell him this: 

** *Say, Mister, did you know that wliat goes on and in the 
collection plates at the Graham revival wouldn't be chicken 
202 



feed in those gyp joints and dives where people waste their 
money? The whole budget of the revival is less than passes 
over a crap table in an hour in those HeE dives that don't seem 
to worry you. And did you know that the crimes of one man, 
John Dillinger, cost many millions? The G-Men spent a mil- 
lion dollars running him down and ending his bloody career, 
If Billy Graham did nothing else but convert one potential 
Dillinger or Frank Costello he would earn every cent that they 
will take up in a thousand revivals. 

" 'Let him make a million if he can two million or more. 
He'd spend most of it spreading the Gospel and doing good 
in the world. And did you ever hear of a preacher leaving a 
fortune for his heirs to fight over? 

" 'Say, Mister, that stuff you're peddling is what the devil 
germinates and starts and fools swallow! 5 

"Yes, religion is the biggest bargain in the world. Even 
greater bargains than Furniture has. . . /' 

Through the Red Army paper, Red Star, Soviet Russia got 
this report of the Crusade in Washington, D.C: 

"Americans are in hysterics about Billy Graham a charla- 
tan and a quack. Meetings have been attended not only by 
simpletons inexperienced in politics, but also by correspondents, 
avid for sensations. . . . American Senators and members 
of the House come with humble looks and blissful smiles. They 
listen to the howlings of a preacher who goes into rant- 
ings. . . ." 

To which Billy Graham's reply was: "If this revival could 
happen in Russia, the world could live in peace. , . , w 

But when it is seen close-up and at firsthand, the story of 
religion invading and investing the secular life of a great city 
becomes, I think, authentic drama. 

In Glasgow, early on the morning of Saturday, March 19, 
1955, a crowd of some 3,000 people waited in cold, cavernous 
St. Enoch's station for the arrival of the overnight express from 

203 



London. There were more women in the crowd, perhaps, than 
men; more under thirty-five than over; a cluster of newspaper 
reporters and photographers looking ill-fed and ill-clothed, 
as British newspapermen generally do and sometimes are; a 
larger cluster of clergymen: black vests, turn-about collars; and 
on the train platform a welcoming committee of Glasgow city 
officials, a couple of members of Parliament, the Moderator 
of the Church of Scotland, an Episcopalian bishop or two look- 
ing a bit awkward in the midst of so much nonconformity. 

As the crowd waited, it sang "Faith of Our Fathers," and 
"The Lord's My Shepherd," which, to the tune Crimond, is 
the best-loved of all the songs of the Scottish church. When, 
a little after eight o'clock, the train came and a tall, bare- 
headed, smiling young American stepped onto the platform, 
the crowd broke through the lines of police and surrounded 
him, making, as a trainman remarked, "St. Enoch's rafters ring 
to some mighty strange music," singing as though they had 
rehearsed it: 

'This is my story, this is my song, 
Praising my Savior all the day long; 
This is my story, this is my song, 
Praising my Savior all the day long." 

That night the Glasgow Evening Citizen ran streamer head- 
lines over its front-page story and photograph: 

"Thousands Sing Welcome . . . Amazing Scenes . . . 
Crowd Surges around Billy Graham." 

It could happen, I believe, almost anywhere, because almost 
everywhere in the so-called Christian West multiplied millions 
of people are stirred by the same dissatisfaction with answers 
which are wholly secular, with purposes which have material 
achievement as their alpha and omega, with living as though 
the need for security, for comfort and convenience were an 
adequate substitute for the need for God. But Glasgow, as 
tough a port city as any, was evidently waiting for such a 
204 



chalice as this to make religion if only momentarily once 
again one of its chief concerns. 

In the old days when the claims of religion on the Scots 
including the Scots of Glasgow were more pressing than the 
claims of industry and commerce, the city was given a motto 
by one of its early bishops. The motto read: "Let Glasgow 
Flourish by the Preaching of the Word and the Praising of 
His Name." 

As, however, secular concerns increased and those of reli- 
gion diminished this slogan, so it seemed, became increasingly 
unfitting until the hustle and bustle of the market place hav- 
ing taken over it became outright embarrassing. But it was 
not abandoned. It was only reduced to advertising-agency 
dimensions better designed to serve presumably more up-to- 
date objectives: "Let Glasgow Flourish." 

The All-Scotland Crusade recovered and, for the time being 
at least, restored the original. A Glasgow firm, contributing 
its sendees, erected over Kelvin Hall the largest electric sign 
the city had ever seen and, blazoned in lights, the city saw, 
for the first time in many decades, the motto as it once was 
and might be again: "Let Glasgow Flourish by the Preaching 
of the Word and the Praising of His Name.'* 

There was some argument among Glasgow churchmen, 
prior to the Crusade, as to how ready their city was for such 
a return. 

"We were soon reproached," said one of those who had 
doubted, "for our lack of faith. We had shamefully under- 
estimated the hunger of the people for the Word of God." 

There were no adequate Crusade headquarters and cen- 
trally located office space was not available until, one day, 
one of Glasgow's leading businessmen a man with no church 
connections provided, rent-free, more-than-adequate space 
in a downtown office building. A master painter, likewise no 
churchman, took over the decorating. The managing director 
of the city's largest office-supply office fitted the quarters with 

205 



typewriters, mimeograph machines, filing cabinets, desks, 
tables, chairs. At no cost, the city's two best-located, most 
cosfly billboards were made available. Hearing of this, a firm 
of painters and sign writers volunteered its services to paint the 
message: "Hear Billy Graham at Kelvin Hall." One of Scot- 
land's leading advertising agencies took on, at less than cost, 
the job of advance publicity, drawing up its own highly un- 
commercial, two-point objective: 

"L To fill Kelvin Hall nightly; 

U 2. To make Glasgow realize that God is doing something 
great in her midst." 

There was initial skepticism, also, about hiring so huge an 
auditorium as 16,000-capacity Kelvin Hall. Five or six thou- 
sand nightly was regarded as a safe estimate of attendance. 
So "terrible" was this risk regarded that plans were discussed 
to erect temporary walls and cut down the available capacity 
to about half. Only the insistence of Billy Graham's associates 
persuaded the committee to use the entire hall. 

The hall, itself, is an uninspiring structure of concrete, steel, 
and glass, totally unrelieved by any touch of beauty. But, un- 
expectedly, one of Britain's largest scaffolding firms voluntar- 
ily took over a rebuilding job, created an auditorium which 
with pulpit and choir area took on the semblance of a huge 
sanctuary. Chairs, repainted at city expense, were provided by 
the Park Department. 

For six weeks, six nights a week in rain, snow, and sleet 
and, now and then, fine weather Kelvin Hall was filled with 
16,000 people. During the last week, by dint of much crowd- 
ing, the average was 18,000. Night after night, hundreds stood 
in the streets outside, joined to the crowd inside by loudspeak- 
ers, singing as they sang in Kelvin Hall, bowing as they prayed, 
listening as Billy Graham preached, responding, scores of 
them, when the invitation was given to decide for Christ 

There was also some argument as to whether in Scotland, 
and especially in Glasgow, Billy Graham should start right in 
206 



and, on the first evening, call for people to come forward to 
make decisions for Christ. 

"Scots," the argument ran, "aren't used to making a public 
display of their religion. Maybe we had better wait for that 
until we see how things go." 

But Billy Graham did not wait. On the first night with a 
capacity crowd inside and a blinding snowstorm outside he 
gave the invitation to "get up from your seats and walk down 
these aisles and confess Christ unashamedly before men." 
That, also, seems to have been what many, perhaps for a long 
time, had been waiting for. The first who came were two 
women too much in earnest to be held back by their obvi- 
ous embarrassment; then a mother with three teen-age chil- 
dren; two young couples, holding hands. The total that night 
was 470 the largest number of first-night decisions in any 
Billy Graham Crusade up to then. By the end of the six weeks, 
the number of those who had responded to Billy Graham's ap- 
peal in Kelvin Hall was more than 20,000. 

That first night was a heavily headlined front-page story in 
every Glasgow newspaper: 

"500 Answer Billy Graham on First Night . . . Crowds 
Queue in Snow and Sleet ... A Housewife Waits Four 
Hours." 

"All-Scotland Crusade Under Way. Hundreds Respond to 
Appeal of Mr. Billy Graham. Sermon of Simple Words." 

"The Great Crusade Starts with a Warning: You Must Be 
on Time Tonight." 

The Crusade was a front-page story in Glasgow's papers, 
not only that first day, but every day for six weeks. "In this 
time," an editor told me, "I have seen more religion in the 
headlines and more Scripture in the news than in all my previ- 
ous thirty years in this business put together." 

A correspondent for the Glasgow Herald wrote: "Mr. 
Graham has jolted us out of our customary bashfulness. Men 
and women who might f airly be called conventional Christians 

207 



have been compelled to think, really to think, about the Chris- 
tian faith in its personal and social implications, and they have 
been talking about these things as they have not done for 
generations." 

As religion thus took over first place in the attention of 
the city, there were some unexpected consequences. One paper 
one morning ran a story of how the night before Kelvin Hall 
being "packed out" Billy Graham spoke to 2,000 standing 
outside in the rain. Underneath that story was another with 
the headline "Election Meetings Suffer": "The rush to hear 
Billy Graham at the Kelvin Hall is being partly blamed for 
the poor attendance at Glasgow's municipal election meetings, 
said Bailie T. B. Duncan today. The attraction at the Kelvin 
Hall is diverting many electors from the town council hust- 
ings/' 

Mr. John Henderson, a Scottish member of the House of 
Commons and a supporter of the Crusade, wrote that, due to 
the Crusade, "it has been a fairly common experience among 
members of Parliament to find that in their speeches they have 
found it easy almost necessary, in fact to include and put 
new emphasis upon matters above and beyond politics: the 
spiritual and moral aspects of life." 

Someone reported a greeting current among shopgirls: "See 
you at the Kelvin." An enterprising barber put up a sign: "If 
you're not going to Billy Graham to be saved, come in to 
Tony's to be shaved." 

Not all the reactions were friendly but even the unfriendly 
ones indicated, perhaps more so, how far from its conventional 
confines religion was penetrating. Glasgow's Communist paper, 
The Word, kept up a running attack on both Billy Graham 
and the Crusade, devoting, in one issue, nearly three full pages 
to the subject. 

One morning the pavement of a downtown street corner had 
this chalked ditty: 

208 



"Billy Graham came to town, 
Preaching his baloney; 
He puts up at the best hotels, 
Boy, are his clothes toney." 

A few days later when "This Is My Story" had become 
the most frequently heard tune in Glasgow, this variation 
appeared: 

'This is my story, this is my song, 
Preaching baloney aH the day long." 

Underneath was the familiar line: "Religion is a drug." 

This penetration was evident, also, at the other end of the 
intellectual scale. During the Crusade, Glasgow and Oxford 
universities met in Glasgow in a debate. It was the first such 
meeting between the two schools. The subject was: "Should 
Billy Graham be deported as an Undesirable Alien?" Oxford 
taking the affirmative, Glasgow the negative. The student at- 
tendance was one of the largest in the history of the Glasgow 
Union. 

Oxford argued with much stamping and "hear-hearing" 
from the crowd that Billy Graham preached "escapism" and 
offered, from the realities of the world, "a spiritual hide-out" 
"How does his conversion differ from Hitler's brainwashing?'* 
"Sure, he draws the crowds. But so did Hitler with the same 
cheap techniques and perilous authoritarian consequences." 

To which Glasgow's lead-off speaker replied: 

"Let's imagine, for a moment, that 2,000 years ago two 
Scribes, proud guardians of a religious status quo that profited 
them much and others little, met on a street corner in Jerusa- 
lem. 

" This fellow from Nazareth,' said the first Scribe, Vhat 
slick techniques: miracles and all that. . . . He's hoodwink- 
ing the people.* 

u Imagine,' said the other, Be preaches not in the temple, 

209 



but in the market place. And He speaks in parables so that 
the people understand what He says and hear Him gladly. This 
is getting dangerous.' 

"And they began to take counsel together, those Scribes, 
not how to deport, but how to crucify Him." 

There was less shouting, stamping, and "hear-hearing" at 
this. But when the vote was taken, Glasgow won. 

To get an account of the Crusade from an observer of ac- 
knowledged intellectual repute and "with no ax to grind,'* the 
Glasgow Evening Citizen called on Mr. Noel Stevenson, lec- 
turer in social anthropology at Glasgow University and chair- 
man of the British Broadcasting Company's widely followed 
program A Matter of Opinion. Here, in part, is Mr. Stevenson's 
stirring and remarkable report: 

"Last night I heard Billy Graham. The myriad lights in the 
wide, low Kelvin Hall shone down on thousands of men and 
women who must have been wondering, as I was myself, just 
what their motives were for being there. . . . 

"I thought of the outburst of a young man in a youth pro- 
gram I chaired some weeks ago. He faced a group of industrial- 
ists and religious and civic leaders who wanted to know why 
modern youth was feckless. 

" *We are a lost generation because you are lost,' he accused. 
'How can you guide us when you don't even know where you're 
going yourselves? You have no aims we can seize upon as really 
worthwhile.' 

u *No aim worthwhile! 9 That was the thought that kept run- 
ning through my mind as I looked about me. . . . The more 
I thought the more I was convinced that here was the answer. 
Religion means action as well as belief; beliefs are the tools 
with which nations are made or broken. Was it because our 
beliefs are not being put into practice that we were there 
seeking a way to do it? 

"Across the way from me three young reporters & girl and 
two men gave me some clues. When Billy Graham began his 
210 



address with an exhortation about original sin and the im- 
mortal soul they sat unmoved whispering among themselves. 
. . . But when he turned to the problems of the Christian 
way of life, they sat mute with a sudden realization on their 
faces. They were held spellbound. If their thoughts were like 
mine it was not emotion that held them it was the feeling 
that here was something practical that could be acted upon, 
not a negative and selfish aim or personal salvation through 
not doing wrong, but a positive aim of peace in God by doing 
a thousand small things right . . . 

"Then the flow began. A young man broke from the restrain- 
ing fingers of his friends and joined the widening stream. Near 
me, most were young or in early middle age. I saw a sprinkling 
of university students among them and thought again of the 
young man in the radio program and his cry for leadership. 
I knew I should have been standing there amongst those young- 
sters, giving a lead in the public declaration of my faith. Panic 
held me. ... As the tail end of the stream flowed past and 
out of sight I heard, in the depth of my conscience, the first 
cockcrow." 

Few days passed during the entire six weeks without at least 
one meeting, generally at the noon hour, for workers in the 
Clydeside shipyards meetings sometimes addressed by mem- 
bers of the team, sometimes by Billy Graham. At one meeting 
I attended, 2,000 men stood for three quarters of an hour in 
the driving rain to hear Billy Graham. 

And few days passed which did not witness some daytime 
gathering of the business, professional, political, and social 
leaders of the life of Glasgow and of Scotland. Most remark- 
able of these was a luncheon given by Mr. Hugh Fraser one 
of Scotland's foremost businessmen which called together 
some 400 people and which, led by the Lord Provost and 
his wife, was described to me by a newspaper editor as "one 
of the most inclusive assemblies of the nobility of Scotland 
and its business and political leaders ever to have met in one 

211 



place." Billy Graham's message after preliminary remarks 
suited to the occasion was as forthrightly religious as at 
Kelvin Hall. 

The influence of the Crusade penetrated far beyond Glas- 
gow, Noting that Billy Graham's schedule included no visit 
to Dundee, The People's Journal of that city asked in a three- 
column headline: "Why Not Dundee, Mr. Graham?" 

"What's wrong with Dundee as far as the Billy Graham 
organization is concerned? 

"Are we completely equipped in the religious sense? 

"Or are we not worth bothering about? 

"The enthusiasm in the city is considerable. But we have 
had Billy Graham in voice only. There is still time. . . ." 

Delegations to Kelvin Hall came from the farthest north 
to the farthest south in Scotland by many hundreds of char- 
tered busses, by more than fifty special trains, by a score of 
chartered airplanes. The Scottish Sunday Post, most widely 
circulated newspaper in Scotland, ran a countrywide contest: 
"Why I Want to Hear Billy Graham." Winners, ten busloads 
of forty people each, were awarded trips to Glasgow, provided 
with tickets to Kelvin Hall, fed and lodged and returned to 
their homes, all at the Post's expense. 

"Since I was fifteen years old," said one winning letter, "I 
have been in church only once to be married. During my 
Army service padre after padre gave me lecture after lecture 
to restore my faith, without success. I wonder if this man 
Graham can do it." 

"In May, 1 954, 1 lost my youngest son," said another. "Since 
he went the joy of living has been taken away. When I heard 
of Billy Graham I had a great hope that he is the one to help 
me to face up and restore my faith." 

"If," wrote another, "the churches of my city had some of 
the spirit and power of a Billy Graham Crusade, they would 
all be better churches and we would all be better people." 

Perhaps there is no better evidence of the way in which the 
212 



All-Scotland Crusade, from having at first been a matter of 
popular interest became, in the opinion of hard-bitten news- 
paper editors, a subject of downright personal religious con- 
cern than the series of articles run by the Sunday Post as the 
Crusade concluded: "What It Means to Be a Billy Graham 
Convert." The replies were the kind of testimonies one expects 
to hear but, even there, much too seldom only within the 
limited precincts of a church. 

A Glasgow housewife: "The last five weeks of my life have 
been the happiest I have ever spent. For over thirty years, I 
had been an agnostic. I had become increasingly aware as the 
years passed of the emptiness, bitterness, and hardness such a 
belief engenders. I went forward at Kelvin Hall, saying, 1 don't 
believe with my head, but I will have faith and act as though 
I do.' 

"Now, after five weeks, I cannot help but believe as day by 
day, fresh power, serenity of spirit, and a changed outlook 
on life testify to the power of Christ. 

"To test this new power I gave it something to do I couldn't 
do for myself to stop smoking after twenty-five years. It is 
now five weeks since I've had a cigarette and what a glorious 
freedom from being a slave. 

"The cynics sneer and say we converts will soon return to 
the spiritual vacuum from which we came but I know, and 
thousands like me, that my life is changed irrevocably." 

An ex-member of the Royal Air Force: "My story begins a 
year ago when I heard Dr. Graham at Wembley. I was in the 
RAF and went by coach party to hear Billy. I was deeply 
moved but did not go forward because I had not the guts to 
get up in the middle of all the chaps who knew me. 

"My story restarts on the first Wednesday night of the Glas- 
gow Crusade. I had no ticket so I went into the overflow to 
watch the service on TV. As soon as the appeal was made, I 
went forward. I did not feel emotional or excited. I just real- 

213 



ized I needed Christ to help me live a life I didn't have enough 
will power to live myself. 

"In my everyday life, I have found comfort, security, happi- 
ness I never knew before. I have made new friends. In a Chris- 
tian church I have found a new home." 

Husband and wife: "I write on behalf of my husband and 
myself. Prior to accepting Billy Graham's call I frankly admit 
for many years the word happiness was never to be found in 
our home, owing to continual quarrelling between my husband 
and myself due to excessive drinking. 

"Now our lives are changed in many ways. To attend church 
was unheard of in our home for years. Now we attend regu- 
larly. Happiness prevails in our home. My husband and I thank 
God for the wonderful change that has taken place in our 
lives." 

A workingman: "I went to Kelvin Hall out of curiosity. 
Being by nature for over twenty years a man of loose habits, 
such as gambling and drinking, I felt that no matter what was 
said it would not affect my way of living. 

"Little did I know what a transformation it would mean 
to me and mine, for I can truthfully say that from the minute 
I took my seat I was affected in a way I could not understand. 
Since that night I have felt and acted as a Christian should 
not gambling, drinking, vulgar talking, but going on with the 
Lord. 

"I am now a member of the church. My future life will be 
dedicated to Christian endeavor." 

On the last day, save one, of the All-Scotland Crusade, 
60,000 people many hundreds of whom had stood five hours 
in line filled Glasgow's famous Ibrox Stadium. On the next 
afternoon, for the final meeting, a crowd of some 100,000 
filled Hampden Park. The press, reporting these concluding 
meetings, included one apparently minor incident which, I 
think, significantly sums up how much, in so short a time, 
religion had become a part of the life of so many people and 
214 



how far beyond the person of Billy Graham or his organiza- 
tion that concern had penetrated: 

"The Billy Graham Crusade is over. What a host of mem- 
ories it leaves. On Friday night over 30,000 people spilled out 
of the meeting at Ibrox Stadium and queued 30-deep outside 
the subway station along Copland Road. For a moment the 
queue was silent, thoughtful. Then a window in an overlooking 
tenement was shoved up. Three girls poked their heads out. 
And until the queue had disappeared they led the thousands 
in community singing. They sang The Lord's Prayer,* 'This 
Is My Story' and many others. In its own way, surely, a worthy 
finale to a great campaign." 

As with many other aspects of the Billy Graham ministry^ 
it is beyond my journalistic powers to explain how all this 
happens, how a great city is, for this period, so widely and 
so deeply permeated with religious concern. One thing I am 
sure of: it is obviously a phenomenon of far too great propor- 
tions to be ascribed to the workings of the Graham publicity 
"machine" or to the employment of modern methods of adver- 
tising and promotion. The best that the most expert of such 
technicians and techniques ever achieve for any other cause 
is still far short of this. 

I am likewise at a loss to appraise the lasting consequences. 
That there are lasting consequences and that some of them 
may be momentous I have no doubt. For example, William 
H. Stoneman, head of the foreign service of the Chicago Daily 
News, cabled to his paper after the Billy Graham meetings in 
Paris: 

"By this date his efforts to create a great religious awaken- 
ing in Europe have developed into a potent crusade which, 
because it is spiritual in nature, is already serving as an anti- 
dote to the Communist anti-Christ and the purely materialistic 
gospel of the Russians. 

"Graham also has the unique distinction of being just about 

215 



the only living American to whom Europeans seem willing to 
listen." 

It seems also to be the considered judgment of objective 
observers that no American in this postwar period has made 
so many friends for America and gone so far toward offsetting 
the widespread conviction that material rather than spiritual 
matters are America's sole significant concern as Billy Graham 
during his amazing tour of Asia in the winter of 1956. 

I am sure also that closer at hand the consequences of a 
Billy Graham Crusade must have some permanence. Glasgow, 
for example, may now be again very much what Glasgow was 
before. But something, little or much, of this exposure to and 
concern for religion must have gone more than skin-deep and 
imperceptible though it may be to the casual observer 
entered into the life of the city. It seems a reasonable conclu- 
sion that the Power which was competent enough to bring it 
about will be competent to prevent its total dissipation. 

When asked about the "lasting" consequences of a Billy 
Graham Crusade, Ruth Graham sometimes says, "Who can 
be sure? But just wait till we get to Heaven." 

Short of that I do not know any way to determine finally the 
permanence of what happened as in scores of other cities 
to Glasgow, I am willing to leave it for such a celestial ac- 
counting. 



216 



13: Does it last? 



IN A WESTERN WORLD which, in the sober judgment of 
some of its best-qualified observers, is weakened by lack of a 
vital, transforming, durable religious faith, there is one ques- 
tion about the ministry of Billy Graham and his Crusades more 
important than all others. That question is: Does it last? 

In many places in this book from many sources there is 
evidence which seems to me to point toward an answer to 
that question. 

There is, in addition to the results of my own firsthand in- 
quiries, much other evidence. All of it seems to me to bear 
out Billy Graham's contention that today's most nearly uni- 
versal ill is spiritual hunger: 

"Millions have tried to nourish themselves on every kind 
of bread: science, education, better living, more pleasure. Now, 
unsatisfied, they have begun to ask for the Bread of Life." 

His ministry is proof, I think, that this hunger reaches across 
the usual barriers of geography, language, social and eco- 
nomic position. In whatever country he preaches the record- 
breaking crowds that hear him seem to listen just as gladly 
whether he is heard through an interpreter, or, miles away, 
through telephone relay. To his appeal all kinds and condi- 

217 



tions of people respond: the churched and the unchurched, 
high-placed and low, educated and untutored. Many ministers 
in many places have had experiences similar to that of the 
Anglican vicar who told me in some amazement that three of 
the active converts added to his church during the Greater 
London Crusade, all three of them converted on the same eve- 
ning, were a garage mechanic, a member of Parliament, and 
the daughter of a peer. 

After the meeting in Geneva, Switzerland, in June, 1955, 
Ruth Graham wrote to her parents: 

"The meeting was at the Palais des Expositions. Over 18,- 
000 people were gathered. Over a thousand made decisions. 
Everywhere people have said, 'It can't happen here.' 'London, 
yes. But not Glasgow. The Scots are too dour and reserved/ 
'Scotland, yes,' they said in Paris. 'But never in Paris. You don't 
know the French.' In Zurich they said, The fun-loving French? 
Yes, they might respond. But never in Zurich, The German 
mind, you know.' And here in Geneva again they said, 'Not 
here. This is the intellectual headquarters, so to speak. They 
will never go forward/ 

"But they did. Quietly and quickly. It isn't a culture or a 
personality responding to a program or a man, but the soul 
responding to the God who made it. . . ." 

This spiritual hunger which Billy Graham finds whereyer he 
goes reaches, also, into the churches and includes, there, not 
only church members, but often the clergy. In fact, as I have 
indicated elsewhere, Billy Graham believes that it is in the 
churches that today's revival need is greatest and that it is 
there that a religious revival if there is to be one must 
begin. 

Despite the fact that some of the severest and, I thinV I 
can safely add, some of the unfairest criticism that has been 
and continues to be leveled against him comes from church- 
men, Billy Graham's loyalty to the church and his zeal for its 
upbuilding are unwavering. This, of course, sets him aside from 

218 



some evangelists of the not distant past who, often, have at- 
tacked the church with almost as much vehemence as and 
only a little less venom than sin and the hosts of Hell. More- 
over, Billy Graham's concept of the church is, to use the 
ecclesiastical word for it, ecumenical. It reaches beyond those 
denominations whose theology most closely approximates his 
own and includes, with the same devotion and perhaps some- 
what more concern, those which seem to have departed from 
what, to him, is orthodoxy. 

At the service of dedication prior to the All-Scotland Cru- 
sade, in the Church of Scotland Cathedral in Glasgow speak- 
ing to what was described as "one of the most representative 
congregations of churchmen in Scotland's history," Billy 
Graham said, "I am here to serve the church, whether it be 
a humble Brethren assembly or the congregation of this an- 
cient cathedral . . ." 

"We were deeply aware," said one of the leading ministers 
of the Church of Scotland, "of that unity in Christ without 
which no work can prosper." 

Yet Billy Graham is far from sure that the present upsurge 
in church membership and attendance in the United States 
means that there has been a like increase in vital religion. In 
the winter of 1955, on the TV program Meet the Press, he 
said, * We have a hundred million Americans members of some 
church. If a hundred million Americans were putting into 
practice the teachings of Christ in the office, the home, and 
the shop we would not have the moral and social problems 
we have." 

He has also said, 'Though the pews are often filled, the 
people who fill them often go away empty. They have been 
offered good advice and good argument, everything but the 
Good News of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The multitudes may 
be interested. But they are not fed." 

Perhaps the most dramatic meeting of the All-Scotland Cru- 
sade in the spring of 1955 was not at Kelvin Hall where the 

219 



public services were held, but in a downtown church where, 
at the end of the Crusade, Billy Graham spoke to 1,000 min- 
isters. His message was: "Be sure you have a Gospel to preach; 
then preach it with authority/' 

A dissatisfied minister, he told them, went to an actor friend. 

** *Tell me, how is it your audiences respond to your words 
while my congregations seem deaf to mine?' 

" There is this difference,' said the actor. 'I speak my fiction 
as though it were fact; you speak your fact as though it were 
fiction.' 

"Either Jesus Christ is the answer to all mankind's needs or 
He is no answer. There is no record of His saying, 'I think so,' 
'perhaps,' or 'maybe.' The Bible says, 'He spoke as one having 
authority.' To Satan tempting Him He said, 'It is written.' For 
our confused, frustrated, fearful generation, He says, 'This is 
the Way; walk ye in it.' " 

Then to this gathering representing every segment of Scot- 
tish Protestantism from Episcopalians and the Church of 
Scotland to so-called "splinter groups" the largest gathering 
of its kind assembled in Scotland, Billy Graham said: 

"Some ministers have said to me, 'Billy, I've never really 
known Christ'; others, 'My heart has grown cold'; others, 'I 
have so many doubts I have no authority.' 

"I am going to do something I have never done before. I 
am going to ask you, ministers of the Gospel, to bow your 
heads, to forget you are ministers, to remember only that you 
are sinners in need of God's saving and empowering grace. 
The seat where you sit can be your altar. Will you now pray 
with me: 'Lord, here am 1. 1 want new power in my life, new 
power for the church, a new religious day for the people of 
Scotland.' " 

They all prayed. At Billy Graham's invitation for a public 
sign of rededication it looked as though all the thousand of 
them raised their hands. And a thousand voices joined as one 
of them began to sing the familiar, much-loved song: "The 

220 



Lord's My Shepherd." The entry in my notes reads: "Lifted 
rafters." 

The minister-correspondent for a British church paper 
wrote: ''Nothing, so far as our Scottish churches are concerned, 
can ever be the same again." 

There is evidence some of which will be set forth in this 
chapter that not only in Scotland, but elsewhere and after 
a longer time, there are many churches where nothing will 
ever be the same again. 

In the early fall of 1955, Billy Graham went to England to 
conduct a mission at Cambridge University. He landed at 
Southampton. From the letters he wrote to his wife there are 
stirring illustrations of how frequently, en route, he met up 
with people who nearly eighteen months after the conclusion 
of the Greater London Crusade were eager to give their testi- 
mony. 

"On the boat the next-door steward was 'Match' who, as 
you remember, was converted, listening to a Harringay relay 
in Southampton. He is a glowing, radiant Christian and on 
the morning I gave the sermon at the ship's church service he 
went up and down the ship telling everyone to turn on their 
radio because I was speaking. . . ." 

"When we got off the boat a number of the customs officials 
said, 'We're glad you're back,' and a policeman rushed up and 
grabbed my hand and said, 1 was converted through one of 
the relays from Harringay.' One of the baggage men asked for 
my autograph and said that he, too, was converted at Har- 
ringay, . , ." 

"On Friday I went to our office in London which handles 
our mail and affairs from that side. One of the beautiful young 
secretaries came up to me and said, 'Mr. Graham, my husband 
and I were converted at your Wembley meeting. What a dif- 
ference it has made in our home.' A little later we were stopped 
in the street by a man who said, 'Aren't you Billy Graham?' 

221 



public services were held, but in a downtown church where, 
at the end of the Crusade, Billy Graham spoke to 1,000 min- 
isters. His message was: "Be sure you have a Gospel to preach; 
then preach it with authority," 

A dissatisfied minister, he told them, went to an actor friend. 

" Tell me, how is it your audiences respond to your words 
while my congregations seem deaf to mine?' 

" There is this difference,' said the actor. 'I speak my fiction 
as though it were fact; you speak your fact as though it were 
fiction/ 

"Either Jesus Christ is the answer to all mankind's needs or 
He is no answer. There is no record of His saying, *I thinV so,' 
'perhaps,' or 'maybe.' The Bible says, 'He spoke as one having 
authority.' To Satan tempting Him He said, 'It is written.' For 
our confused, frustrated, fearful generation, He says, This is 
the Way; walk ye in it.' " 

Then to this gathering representing every segment of Scot- 
tish Protestantism from Episcopalians and the Church of 
Scotland to so-called "splinter groups" the largest gathering 
of its kind assembled in Scotland, Billy Graham said: 

"Some ministers have said to me, 'Billy, I've never really 
known Christ'; others, 'My heart has grown cold'; others, 'I 
have so many doubts I have no authority.' 

"I am going to do something I have never done before. I 
am going to ask you, ministers of the Gospel, to bow your 
heads, to forget you are ministers, to remember only that you 
are sinners in need of God's saving and empowering grace. 
The seat where you sit can be your altar. Will you now pray 
with me: 'Lord, here am 1. 1 want new power in my life, new 
power for the church, a new religious day for the people of 
Scotland.* " 

They all prayed. At Billy Graham's invitation for a public 

sign of rededication it looked as though all the thousand of 

them raised their hands. And a thousand voices joined as one 

of them began to sing the familiar, much-loved song: "The 

220 



Lord's My Shepherd/' The entry in my notes reads: "Lifted 
rafters." 

The minister-correspondent for a British church paper 
wrote: "Nothing, so far as our Scottish churches are concerned, 
can ever be the same again.'* 

There is evidence some of which will be set forth in this 
chapter that not only in Scotland, but elsewhere and after 
a longer time, there are many churches where nothing will 
ever be the same again. 

In the early fall of 1955, Billy Graham went to England to 
conduct a mission at Cambridge University. He landed at 
Southampton. From the letters he wrote to his wife there are 
stirring illustrations of how frequently, en route, he met up 
with people who nearly eighteen months after the conclusion 
of the Greater London Crusade were eager to give their testi- 
mony. 

"On the boat the next-door steward was 'Match' who, as 
you remember, was converted, listening to a Harringay relay 
in Southampton. He is a glowing, radiant Christian and on 
the morning I gave the sermon at the ship's church service he 
went up and down the ship telling everyone to turn on their 
radio because I was speaking. . . ." 

"When we got off the boat a number of the customs officials 
said, 'We're glad you're back,' and a policeman rushed up and 
grabbed my hand and said, 'I was converted through one of 
the relays from Harringay.' One of the baggage men asked for 
my autograph and said that he, too, was converted at Har- 
ringay. . . " 

"On Friday I went to our office in London which handles 
our mail and affairs from that side. One of the beautiful young 
secretaries came up to me and said, 'Mr. Graham, my husband 
and I were converted at your Wembley meeting. What a dif- 
ference it has made in our home.' A little later we were stopped 
in the street by a man who said, 'Aren't you Billy Graham?' 

221 



I said, *Yes.' He said, Hallelujah! Through you, Christ changed 
my life and the life of my family,' " 

From the country home of one of England's most prominent 
businessmen, Billy Graham wrote of the family chauffeur: 
"During Harringay, they had brought him to the service and 
at the end of it had gone back to the car, but he was nowhere 
to be found. Thirty minutes later he appeared with a big smile 
on his face and said, *I was converted tonight' Since then, they 
said, his life has been remarkable and thrillingly different. 
And he told me, That was the most important day in the life 
of my family and of me.' " 

Numerically, incidents like these even multiplied as they 
could be prove, perhaps, very little. What they prove, on a 
higher level, is something else. If we accept Jesus' assertion 
that "joy shall be in Heaven over one sinner that repenteth," 
it seems likely that even from so small a number, Heaven's 
rejoicing must have been considerable. * 

To get what might be accepted as a more conclusive answer 
to the question Does it last? I went to England in the spring 
of 1 955 to make a firsthand inquiry. The results of that inquiry 
are set forth in this and the succeeding chapter of this book. 
Prior to telling what seems to me to be the dramatic story of 
what I found, there are, I think, two facts which need empha- 
sizing. 

The first is that any altogether accurate accounting of the 
lasting effects of a Billy Graham Crusade is beyond the power 
of statisticians, reporters, or even thoughtful churchmen to 
find out The best one can do in the way of quoting the con- 
sidered opinions of laymen and clergymen and of recording 
individual case histories still leaves unprobed large areas of 
life and many thousands of lives which were touched and, in 
great or small degree, were changed through the ministry of 
Billy Graham, 

A second fact is that the final answer to the question: Does 
it last? is not solely Billy Graham's responsibility. Neither is 
222 



it only, or, for that matter, chiefly Billy Graham's ministry 
which is measured, pro or con, by the answer. For Billy 
Graham does not take the converts of his meetings and pro- 
vide them with warmth, shelter, and nourishment under an 
organizational wing of his own. Neither does he, like some 
evangelists, turn them loose to flounder. Each of them, by the 
most emphatic and precise directions, is sent to a church and, 
with equal emphasis and precision, a minister, immediately 
and with all needful data, is sent to each of them. 

Some of the converts of every Crusade would not, even 
under the closest, most effective spiritual tutelage, survive. 
For a variety of reasons, emotional or otherwise, their "deci- 
sions" did not involve them at a deep enough level. But for 
those a considerable majority, I think who, in the begin- 
ning, really mean business or, with at least momentary sincer- 
ity, think they mean business, the subsequent results are a 
measure not so much of the ministry of Billy Graham as of 
the ministry of the churches and the clergy to which these "in- 
fants in the faith" are sent. 

But even for those who, for lack of sufficient conviction or 
adequate nurture, do not survive, how can one be sure that 
some lasting good has not accrued? After attending a Billy 
Graham meeting during the Toronto Crusade in the fall of 
1955, Prank Tumpane, columnist for the Toronto Telegram, 
wrote: 

"Many came forward the night I was there. They were sober- 
faced, not stern-faced. They came quietly and with no hyster- 
ics. They simply came forward and stood quietly before the 
platform upon which Billy Graham stood. Their names were 
taken and they will be put in touch with one of the Toronto 
churches which will minister to their spiritual needs. 

'How many of them will be backsliders? I don't know* But 
I think if s better to be a backslider time and time again than 
never to tfiafce an effort to move forward at alL . . ." 

When I went to England in the spring of 1955 a year had 

223 



elapsed since the three-month Crusade at London's Harringay 
Arena. That Crusade, as I have pointed out elsewhere, was 
sponsored by more than 1,000 Greater London churches of all 
denominations. Hundreds more throughout England and 
Wales were joined to the Harringay services by telephone relay. 
Nearly 2,000,000 people heard Billy Graham. There were 38,- 
000 "decisions for Christ/' 

In books, pamphlets, and dozens of articles, pro and con, 
about Billy Graham and the Crusade, in scores of interviews 
with prominent churchmen of many denominations, ministers 
of large and small parishes, church editors, executives of reli- 
gious organizations, laymen, converts of all ages and many 
backgrounds, I sought the answers to these questions: 

What has happened to the Crusade's converts, twelve 
months after the Crusade? What remains of the dedication 
and zeal which were stirred among so many preachers and 
churches? Was it all a passing show, as some allege and a few 
hope; and if not, what were the lasting benefits? 

These, supported by a weighty preponderance of facts and 
firsthand testimony, are the answers I got: 

That in numbers beyond expectation, the Crusade's con- 
verts are carrying on; that in dedication and zeal, what began 
at Harringay, far from waning after a year, is on the increase; 
that of lasting benefits, "Billy Graham," in the words of Dr. 
W. E. Sangster, one of Great Britain's most prominent Method- 
ist ministers, "has broken the door of opportunity wide open 
for a spiritual advance, an opportunity, such as we have not 
had in this century, to claim the soul of the nation for God." 

Dr. Sangster's own church received "decision cards" of more 
than sixty Harringay converts. At the end of a year, all but 
six were "carrying on": full-fledged church members, increas- 
ingly active in its work. "But something has happened," Dr, 
Sangster says, "that is more important than statistics: last year* s 
Crusade produced in England a growing appetite for religion." 

Officially, the churchman who spoke for 23,000 free 
224 



churches in England and Wales was the Reverend F. P. Cop- 
land Simmons, a Presbyterian minister, Moderator of the Free 
Church Federal Council. 

"Starting with last year's Crusade and growing ever since/* 
he said, "there is now, in England, a greater urge toward reli- 
gion than I have seen before in my lifetime.** 

Throughout England and Wales, Mr. Copland Simmons had 
addressed that year many interdenominational meetings ar- 
ranged by the Free Church Council. The theme of the year's 
meetings, "taking our lead from Billy Graham," was evange- 
lism. "Audiences have been record-breaking: two to three 
times as large as the year before the Crusade." 

In a coastal city during Britain's 1955 general election, he 
met a campaigning member of Parliament who complained 
that, on three previous evenings, his largest political audience 
was under fifty. In the same city, on those nights, Mr. Copland 
Simmons spoke on evangelism to packed churches. 

"Of Billy Graham's great and enduring service to our coun- 
try there can be no doubt," says the Right Reverend George 
Bell, the Anglican Bishop of Chichester and a former president 
of the World Council of Churches. "Spiritually, England was 
waiting for such a challenge. There are evidences all about, 
many in my own diocese, that clergy and laymen have been 
aroused by that challenge and that the message of the church 
to the nation is being given new force and authority." 

One notable evidence from the Bishop's diocese was the 
week-long Chichester Crusade in February, 1955. Almost a 
year after Harringay, it was a "Harringay in miniature," the 
first campaign of its kind in the city's history. A prominent 
Chichester businessman, converted at Harringay, proposed 
the idea and got it under way. Laymen raised the funds. Har- 
ringay converts organized the supporting prayer groups and 
provided many of the counsellors. Churches of all denomina- 
tions cooperated. The Bishop of Chichester endorsed the 

225 



Crusade and presided at one service. More than 15,000 
attended the meetings; there were 592 decisions. 

"There are two answers to the question of the Crusade's 
lasting benefits," said Dr. Townley Lord, who was then presi- 
dent of the Baptist World Alliance. "One is visible. In my own 
congregation, twenty-three of the twenty-five Crusade converts 
sent to us have entered wholeheartedly into our work. During 
this past year, almost wholly as a result of Harringay and its 
continuing influence, Baptist churches of Great Britain re- 
ported an increase of baptisms 25 per cent above the increase 
of the previous year. That is the largest increase ever recorded, 
twice the average of preceding years. 

"But there is another answer that is not so visible but of 
great meaning in the future: the atmosphere and attitude of 
England toward religion have perceptibly changed from pre- 
vailing coldness and indifference to increasing warmth and 
concern." 

"Before Harringay,'* says Sir Frank Medlicott, prominent 
London lawyer, Conservative member of Parliament and 
active free-church layman, "if you wanted to avoid embar- 
rassment, you didn't talk about religion save, occasionally, 
in an abstract way about an abstract God. Now, thanktf' to 
Billy Graham and the Crusade, the average layman like me 
can talk without embarrassment to other laymen about the 
personal reality of Jesus Christ and know they won't be em- 
barrassed either. An even more remarkable fact is that that 
is what so many laymen are doing." 

A leading layman of the Church of England, one of its 
lay delegates to the 1954 meeting of the World Council of 
Churches in Evanston, Illinois, is George Goyder, chairman 
of British International Paper, Ltd., largest supplier of news- 
print to Britain's newspapers. In the spring of 1955, during the 
evangelist's week of meetings at London's Wembley Stadium, 
Mr. Goyder invited the editors of Britain's leading newspapers 
to a luncheon to meet Billy Graham. All but two came* Repre- 
226 



senting a total daily circulation of more than 45,000,000, it 
was the most inclusive meeting of British editors in many years. 
Introducing the guest of honor, Mr. Goyder said, "I love Billy 
Graham because he is bringing something back into English 
life we had nearly lost: the freshness of an infectious faith; 
a frank and open declaration of the Gospel of Jesus Christ 
given freely to all men regardless of where they stand or what 
they are and now there is a new spirit abroad: ordinary men 
and women inquiring and longing for faith. I believe Billy 
Graham is here to help England become again what she once 
was the nation of a Book, and that Book the Bible." 

'There have been more prayer and Scripture reading in 
England in this year since Harringay," an officer of the British 
Evangelical Alliance told me, "than in a century or more." 

During the twelve months following Harringay, the Scrip- 
ture Union, an interdenominational organization to promote 
regular Bible reading, has had "a direct result of Harringay" 
the largest increase in membership in its history. London's 
bookstores reported an increase in Bible sales breaking all 
records. 

Early in 1954, in London there were 500 prayer groups, 
organized to pray for the success of the Greater London Cru- 
sade. In the spring of 1955, throughout England, there were 
2,800 such groups and 100,000 "prayer partners" pledged 
to pray for the All-Scotland Crusade in Glasgow. 

A vicar of the Church of England elbowed his way through 
the station crowd as Billy Graham, in March, 1955, passed 
through London en route to Glasgow. 

"A year ago/* he said, "I wouldn't have believed it. But 
my church is filled tonight with a Scotland Crusade all-night 
prayer meeting." 

When it was announced, in the spring of 1955, that meet- 
ings of the All-Scotland Crusade would be available through- 
out Great Britain by telephone relay, requests were received 
for more than 2*000 installations in nearly 600 communities. 

227 



Meeting places included churches of all denominations, movie 
theaters, Army and Air Force mess halls, hospitals, prisons, 
and, perhaps more remarkable, some of England's most famous 
cathedrals. 

I went to such a relay meeting in a rural community, popu- 
lation 400, about 40 miles from London. Its ancient church 
was without a regular vicar. Attendance at services occasion- 
ally held by a visiting clergyman averaged 15 to 20. Laymen 
had organized this rally, paid for the installation and announce- 
ments, and, each night, conducted the service. There were 500 
present. 

Throughout Great Britain, attendance at these relay services 
was nearly 2,000,000. Instruction courses were prepared and 
sent out for 25,000 counsellors. There were more than 30,000 
decisions. 

Critics of Billy Graham predicted that in the months after 
Harringay, its converts, "victims of emotion," would speedily 
and by a large majority fall away. J. B. Priestley, writing in 
the spring of 1955 in The New Statesman and Nation, was 
sure that only "a tiny minority are genuinely converted." The 
net result: "No great harm, no great good, mostly just another 
show." 

A London newspaper columnist, after telephone inquiries 
to several Anglican vicars, "estimated," early in 1955 that, 
"of outsiders, that is, genuine converts," not more than 10 
per cent will be f ound still in the church. 

In February, 1955, the influential British Weekly, non- 
denominational church paper notably neutralist on Billy 
Graham, undertook to find a more conclusive answer. It polled 
a cross section of British clergy of all denominations on 
"What's Left of Harringay?" At the end of nearly a year it 
found that, of outsiders, neither church members nor church- 
goers, converted at Harringay, 64.03 per cent after nearly 
a year "are still attending church and taking part in church 
life regularly." 
228 



After traveling through the country, in contact with all 
denominations, Mr. Copland Simmons said that even that re- 
markable percentage was too low. 

"The proportion of authentic, lasting conversions after this 
year of testing is, I believe, greater than from any previous 
such campaign in England's history." 

"We expected some to fall away," said the Right Reverend 
Hugh E. Clough, the Bishop of Barking. "We never expected 
they would be so few. We knew some would carry on. We did 
not believe they would be so many or that they would carry 
on with such leavening conviction." 

The British Weekly poll revealed another remarkable fact: 
that, in scores of churches, the total of the Crusade's converts 
continued to increase after the Crusade. Many people, exposed 
to Billy Graham's message but undecided at the time, "moved 
slowly and thoughtfully to the Christian faith over a period 
of months." 

One minister reported that, of the busload of people which 
his church recruited and sent to Harringay, none went forward. 
During succeeding months, however, twelve of them acknowl- 
edging their debt to Harringay, applied for church member- 
ship. "Our one outsider," another minister wrote, "has now 
brought two others." "Six, who signed no cards at Harringay," 
said another, "have now joined the church through Harringay 
influence." 

At All Souls* Church in London, the Reverend John R. W. 
Stott preaches to one of England's largest Anglican congrega- 
tions. "Spurred by the Crusade," he says, "conversions in our 
church have continued. Now, a year after the Crusade, we 
have eleven weekly classes for new converts. Enrollment in 
our courses for lay leaders has nearly doubled," 

After the Harringay meetings John Betjeman, a well-known 
Anglo-Catholic writer, described in the London Spectator the 
challenge which Billy Graham had left with Britain's churches: 

**I pictured the vast half-empty chapel .on some clattering 

220 



High Road, the sea of pitch-pine pews, and the few people in 
them leaning forward in their seats, and shading their eyes as 
the brave disheartened minister asked for God's blessing on 
Billy Graham and his team. I foresaw the objectors: the old- 
fashioned left-wing atheist who sees in it only a plot by Ameri- 
can and English businessmen to get the workers to work harder 
for less money; the smug type, who thinks it all 'dreadfully 
vulgar and noisy,' the confirmed pessimist who regards it all 
as a flash in the pan. In the end the truth will triumph. And 
maybe Billy Graham has lessened the time of waiting." 

In May, 1955, Billy Graham returned to London. It was 
then a full year since Harringay. Great Britain was in the midst 
of a general election campaign notable for the apathy of 
voters; the slim attendance at political rallies. For seven nights 
Billy Graham preached at huge Wembley Stadium. For five 
nights a cold rain swept his outdoor audience. Yet he spoke, 
in that week, to more than 400,000 people. There were 23,000 
decisions. 

From London, U.S. journalist and editor David Lawrence 
wrote in his syndicated column that Britain's "Number One 
news" is "not the general election," but Billy Graham's "simple 
and direct exposition of the doctrines of Christianity": the 
answers he gives to "people hungry for a deeper understanding 
of God's influence in their lives." 

"Here is a man," said the London Daily Star, "who knows 
the innermost needs of his fellows and can abundantly satisfy 
it with his old but ever new evangelical answers." 

"Never before," said the London Evening News, the world's 
largest evening newspaper, "have so many people come to one 
place to hear in so short a space of time as a week, the Word 
of God. It can truly be called the phenomenon of the mid- 
century all the more remarkable because fifteen months ago 
it would have seemed impossible. It may not be too much to 
hope that it may be the start of a spiritual renaissance." 

"I have traveled the world over," said one widely known 
230 



religious leader, "but nothing I have seen, nothing I have read 
save the account in Acts of the revival at Pentecost compares 
with what I saw at Wembley: 4,000 people streaming across 
the turf in the pouring rain to declare their decisions for Christ. 
And we now know an even greater miracle: that with such few 
exceptions, these thousands mean it." 

Led by the great choir, 90,000 people, on the last night at 
Wembley, sang the song of praise and testimony which is a part 
of every Crusade meeting: "To God Be the Glory, Great 
Things He Hath Done." 

Billy Graham, waiting to speak, turned to a member of his 
team: 'This must have been what Jesus meant in those last 
three verses of the ninth chapter of Matthew," 

These verses read: 

"But when he saw the multitudes, he was moved with com- 
passion on them, because they fainted, and were scattered 
abroad, as sheep having no shepherd. 

"Then saith he unto his disciples, The harvest truly is 
plenteous, but the laborers are few; 

"Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he will send 
forth laborers into his harvest." 



231 



14: What becomes of the converts? 



WHEN BILLY GRAHAM is asked, as he repeatedly is: "Will 
these new converts survive?'* he sometimes replies that the 
same question could just as sensibly be asked, as one looks 
through the heavy glass windows of a maternity ward, of the 
newborn infants there. "The answer is 'No, they will not sur- 
vive not unless, for a long time, they are cared for, nurtured, 
and helped to grow/ 

"The newly converted person is a newly reborn person. 
Whether he survives and grows depends on how well he is 
nurtured. The Bible says, *As newborn babes, desire the sincere 
milk of the Word, that ye may grow thereby/ " 

The whole purpose of the elaborate follow-up system, a 
unique characteristic of the Billy Graham meetings, is to insure 
that nurture. Each person who goes to make a "decision" finds 
that a counsellor, someone of his own sex and approximate 
age, has quickly come forward to stand at his side, to walk 
with him into the Inquiry Room, sit with him there, Bible at 
hand, to hslp with what I heard one convert call *iny first 
feeding." 

Counsellors are nominated by local ministers from their 
church membership. They are instructed and qualified or elimi- 

233 



nated by members of the Billy Graham team in six intensive, 
two-hour classes. Their instruction not only includes the para- 
mount business of "spiritual nurture" but reaches to such deli- 
cate personal matters as the advisability of deodorants and 
having handy, for use just before the call for decisions is made, 
a few mint lozenges. 

Each convert is given a packet of pocket-size literature 
"Beginning with Christ" which includes simple questions and 
answers, well fortified with Biblical quotations; Scripture read- 
ings; small cards with Scripture verses for memorizing; sug- 
gestions as to how to pray; how to "witness for Christ" in the 
home, the office, the shop. 

Name, address, church connection or preference and other 
data having been listed by the counsellor, each convert, within 
thirty-six hours, receives a personal letter of encouragement 
from Billy Graham. During the next two weeks, he receives 
two further letters from members of the Graham team, and 
another packet of literature: "Going On with Christ." 

The preliminary work of enlisting the churches not only in 
this follow-up campaign but also in the matter of providing 
and training counsellors, the organization of prayer groups, 
the recruiting of hundreds of ushers and of other hundreds 
for Cliff Barrows' choir, is in the hands of Mr. Willis G. Hay- 
maker, a former banker and a veteran of the campaigns of 
Gypsy Smith and Billy Sunday. Mr. Haymaker's integrity and 
dedication are of the high quality which greatly eases the task 
of stirring preachers and church people into above-normal 
activity. 

The actual training of counsellors and the meticulous job 
of directing them during a Crusade are tasks assigned to two 
other team members: Mr. Lome Sanny and Mr. Charles Riggs. 
Like other members of the Graham team and I have seen 
them all in operation Sanny and Riggs are highly effective 
a result which, as with the others, seems to me in large part 
due to the depth of their Christian commitment 
234 



How well this carefully prepared and tested "nurture" is 
continued depends, however, almost wholly on the clergy. 
Every convert is directed to make immediate contact with some 
church. The minister of the church of his preference or nearest 
his residence receives, within thirty-six hours, a duplicate of 
his Decision Card. Along with that goes a brief form, with 
postage-prepaid envelope, on which the preacher is expected 
to report back that he has made contact with the convert and 
the results. Ministers who do not report or are slow at it are 
checked on by a committee of their colleagues. "Ours has been 
the more spectacular, but the less important part," said Billy 
Graham in a final message to the ministers of one city. "The 
real Crusade begins now, with you." 

In England more than a year after the Greater London 
Crusade I talked to many of its converts. I read the testimonies 
of several hundred others. As witnesses to the durability of 
the faith of those converted in a Billy Graham Crusade, I 
want to recount in this chapter the testimony of some of 
those out of the large number I talked to. 

It may be said that these stories are exceptional. Perhaps 
they are. Moreover, out of the more than 38,000 who made 
decisions for Christ at Harringay they perhaps will not be 
regarded, percentagewise, as a conclusive representation. If 
they are an inadequate basis for generalization, this, at least, 
can be said. The spirit, the dedication, the contagious faith I 
found in them are typical not of a few, but, with hardly an 
exception, of all those with whom I had contact. 

It should also be emphasized that these stories are more 
than accounts of religious survival. In fact, their significance 
chiefly derives from the fact that the persons involved in them 
ars doing so much more than survive. What they got, begin- 
ning at Harringay, has not only kept them; it has proved too 
good to keep. They got a contagious faith. They are spreading 
the contagion. 

I can readily believe that in some places, especially in some 

235 



churches, the eagerness of these new converts the face value 
at which they accept what the church, on a remoter level, 
teaches, their zeal to let no day, no occasion, no conversation 
pass without "witnessing for Christ" must be a little discon- 
certing, to say the least, and at times, no doubt, downright 
embarrassing. 

A layman, a church official, unexpectedly accosted as he 
arrived at his office one morning by a convert among his em- 
ployees, remarked to me later, "It's really a bit out of my line, 
you know, to talk about the Holy Spirit so soon after break- 
fast." 

I imagine that much the same embarrassment must have 
accrued from the persistent testifying of the early Christians. 

As I have read through my notes and the written testimonies 
of these converts, I have wondered how many years elapse in 
the history of most Christian churches which see no Christians 
of this "exceptional" sort added to their rolls. Yet from some 
knowledge of the Christian ministry, it is my belief that these 
are the kind of Christians the average, dedicated minister 
wishes his ministry to produce, even though it seldom does. 

Meanwhile, I point out again, the several hundred converts 
from whose testimonies I have selected these stories are prob- 
ably exceptional. Perhaps to some they will seem too few to 
prove anything. But it is, I think, pertinent to recall that the 
achievement of the Christians of the first century was due to 
the fact that their faith was so exceptional as triumphantly to 
outbalance their numerical insignificance. It is already evident 
that the infusion into the religious life of Great Britain of 
even, relatively, a few such exceptional Christians has been 
a salutary leaven. There is Christian precedent for th^ possi- 
bility that it may prove to be a leaven potent enough when 
the reckoning is all in to leaven the whole lump. 

A buyer in one of London's largest stores: On that Saturday 
night, she went to Harringay "solely out of curiosity and to lay 
in an extra conversation piece for a buying trip to the U.S." 
236 



But all through Sunday Billy Graham's text kept recurring: 
"What shall it profit a man," or, she interpolated, a woman, 
"if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul." Mon- 
day night, without a ticket, she returned to Harringay, slipped 
in with the choir and, at the end of the service, made her 
decision. 

Three days later she sailed for the United States, "the 
strangest buying trip I ever made." In her purse, "of all things," 
she carried a newly bought Bible and the packet of instructions, 
"Beginning with Christ." In New York and Chicago her first 
after-business move was to find a church and a preacher. Her 
"conversation piece" became a personal testimony. 

The first persons she told, on her return, were the employees 
of her own department. Her assistant reserved some questions. 
Does this mean she will get here in the morning in a pleasanter 
frame of mind? "She does." Will she be more patient with the 
employees? "She is." Will she be nicer to salesmen and inspec- 
tors, and especially to cantankerous Mr. So-and-So, whom we 
all hate? "They can't believe it and particularly old Mr. So- 
and-So." 

She told the chairman of the store's board of directors; later 
asked his permission to invite a Church of England bishop, a 
staunch Graham supporter, to speak to the employees. It was 
the first meeting of its kind in the store's history. More than 
500 stayed, after hours, to attend. The chairman of the board 
presided. For the continued spiritual counseling of its employ- 
ees, the store has now appointed a minister-chaplain* Once a 
week a group of executives and employees meets for prayer and 
Bible study. 

"I sometimes am impatient," she says, "that out of 5,000 
employees, this year's beginning is so small. Then I remember 
Jesus' story of the mustard seed." 

An ex-Communist factory worker: The party secretary in 
his home city and its best-known agitator, he went to Har- 
ringay "to see how Billy does it" The text that night was 

237 



"Choose ye this day whom ye will serve." He was not im- 
pressed. As for the singing, "I'd heard the Communists, in 
that same arena, sing 'The Red Flag' with more enthusiasm." 
Nevertheless, a week later he returned. He did not go forward. 
But when, the next Sunday evening in a church near his home, 
the minister, himself stirred by Harringay, asked for decisions, 
he joined the five others at the altar, 

His resignation from the party was a front-page story in the 
British press: "Due to deep and unsatisfied unrest within, I 
have decided to resign from the party and rejoin the Christian 
church. This does not mean that I shall take up a position of 
treachery and antagonism to comrades whom I respect and 
esteem, but that I feel belief in Jesus Christ to be incompatible 
with membership in the Communist party." 

Before joining the church, its minister put him through a 
period of intensive preparation. His first public testimony was 
in the city square where, for years, he had spoken for the 
Communists. "The Lord provided a rainstorm and the biggest 
crowd I ever had." The heckling he got was more than offset 
when, at his call for decisions, five men stepped forward: 
"More than I ever got at one time for the Communists." 

In his church, "all working at it," are twenty other Harringay 
converts. After a few months one of them dropped out But 
on last New Year's Day this man saw a movie of the news 
highlights of 1954. One shot was Harringay, the choir singing 
"Just As I Am, without One Plea." "That night we got a 
phone call from that fellow. Now he's with us again." 

Traveling almost every Sunday by bus and train, he has 
testified before dozens of workers' groups in many cities. He 
usually spots some of his former party comrades. At least one 
of them, a party official in his own city, has been converted 
and is now in training as a lay preacher. 

He does not attempt to refute the continuing bitter attacks 
that he has "betrayed" the workingman, "I just tell them what 
Christ has done for one workingman, namely me." 
238 



A newspaper employee, official of his labor union: "I don't 
know why I went to Harringay, except that it was my night off 
and the show was free." Billy's text was from Joshua: "Choose 
you this day whom ye will serve." "I walked home five miles 
through the rain, trying to figure out what had happened to 
me." 

Instead of laughing him off, as he expected, his wife went 
with him to Harringay a few nights later and made her decision. 

"She was pretty much of a saint already," he says, "I have 
to sweat at being a Christian. But the difference if s made is 
beyond all comparison. That goes for my wife and me and 
how we get along. It goes for how we get along with our five 
children. You ought to hear the TLittle Harringay' we have 
on Sunday evenings after church, singing Crusade songs." 

Before the Wembley meetings in the spring of 1955 he re- 
conditioned his automobile an overage London taxi and 
ran a bus service for his neighbors to the stadium. At Wem- 
bley, he never sat with his passengers: "I didn't want them to 
feel under obligation." But eighteen of the thirty-seven he 
transported made decisions. 

"Now," he says, "our Sunday evening gatherings make a 
houseful." 

A London policeman: When the London Crusade started, 
he was a traffic officer at one of the city's busiest corners in 
the Strand. Hundreds of busses passed him every day and 
from every bus Billy Graham looked down at him from a 
Crusade poster. One night he said to his wife a former po- 
licewoman and officer in the wartime WAAFS "Let* $ go out 
and see that fellow in person." They were both converted. 

"It took me three days," he says, "to find the happiness Billy 
promised Then, one day in the poolroom at the police station, 
it hit me all of a sudden. My wife and I haven't had anything 
but happiness since.". 

He told his friends on the police force, expecting to be met 
with "hoots of laughter." Instead, "they quizzed me: wanted 

239 



to know what I did, how I felt and what made me so sure." 
Now he belongs to a prayer group of policemen: eight of them 
Harringay converts. They go out in pairs to "witness for 
Christ" 

Before Harringay, discontented in his home life and unsatis- 
fied with his job, he planned to take his family to Australia, 
"looking for the pot of gold.'* "Now," he says, "I wouldn't 
leave either London or the job. We've found something better 
than a pot of gold." 

A food manufacturer: His firm, one of the largest makers 
of meat and fish paste in England, has been in his family 200 
years, employs 500 people. When, with a busload of sixty 
employees, he and his wife went to Harringay, his wife said, 
"Let's agree we won't make fools of ourselves before our own 
people. Whatever this thing is, lef s not fall for it." He heartily 
agreed. When Billy Graham made his call for decisions, "fool 
or not, I knew I'd have to break that promise and go forward." 
He turned to his wife to explain. She slipped her arm through 
his: "We're both going." 

"We stood there, grown people, yet spiritual infants." In the 
counseling room, where every convert goes, "we were given 
a formula for infant feeding: a four-part compound of prayer, 
Bible reading, witnessing, and Christian fellowship. For nearly 
a year we have followed that diet and we know it works. 

"No one told us, specifically, what to do about the problem 
of our disunited family. After we'd had a family altar for a 
few weeks, no one needed to. Billy Graham didn't tell me how 
to run my business. But after we had settled a troublesome 
labor dispute an old employee came to my office: 'We'd like 
to know what's happened to you.' " 

Out of a town in Cornwall, his company employs a fleet 
of twenty fishing vessels. A good place, he decided, to bring 
his witnessing. Instead of the 100 or so he had expected to hear 
him there were 2,200 and 45 decisions. 

"With those tough-minded fishermen," he says, "it was no 
240 



passing matter. Later, out of their meager incomes, those 45 
sent four of their number as 'return witnesses' to my city." 

During one week last February, he, with other converts, 
helped arrange a Crusade in his city, a "Harringay in minia- 
ture," to which I have referred elsewhere. Laymen raised the 
funds. Harringay converts organized the supporting prayer 
groups. Churches of all denominations cooperated. One service 
was presided over by the Church of England Bishop. More 
than 15,000 attended the meetings; there were 592 decisions. 

"We've now been asked by some preachers," he says, "to 
give them time to catch up. They've already got as many con- 
verts as they can handle." 

A doctor: His large practice is in a suburban community 
not far from London. He went to Harringay armed with 
binoculars: "If this was a circus, I wanted to see all the acts." 
Billy Graham's text was the First Commandment: *Thou shalt 
have no other gods before Me." Halfway through the sermon, 
the doctor put down his binoculars and got out his notebook. 
That was the first of five successive nights at Harringay: on 
the fifth he made his decision. 

His wife, convalescing from an operation, was at a coastal 
resort. Strolling along the boardwalk, he "casually" told her, 
"Two nights ago, at Harringay, I gave my life to the Lord," 

"She forgot she was British," he says. 'There in that crowd 
she threw her arms around my neck and kissed me. She said, 
Tve been praying for this for seven years.' " 

When the London Crusade ended, they began in their own 
home a Saturday night "Drawing-room Harringay." The num- 
ber who come has increased during this year, from 10 to 50. 

"We start with refreshments, and sing with the Harringay 
Hymn Book. My wife plays the piano, and if we cannot get 
a good soloist, we hear a recording of Beverly Shea. We then 
hear a testimony, usually by someone who came to know the 
Lord at Harringay. This is followed by a message from a special 
speaker. We have the backing and prayers of several keen 

241 



Christians who attend the meetings, and God has blessed them 
and answered these prayers beyond all that we had hoped for. 
Recently, bidding good night to a lady I know, I asked her 
how she enjoyed the meeting. 'Oh, I never enjoy them,' she 
said, 'but I can't keep away. I hope you don't mind.' " 

From this fellowship of "spiritually hungry friends and 
patients," there have been twenty-five decisions for Christ. 

For the 1955 Billy Graham meetings at Wembley Stadium, 
the doctor organized six busloads of people from his com- 
munity. There were twelve decisions for Christ among them. 
Recently, he totaled up his "missionary mileage": to give his 
testimony he had driven, in the year since Harringay, 7,500 
miles, spoken to 20,000 people. 

A London bank clerk: "I knew no more about Billy Graham 
and what he was going to do in this country than anybody else 
who wasn't actually interested and I wasn't. Then I heard 
that the Crusade choir was singing selections from the Messiah 
on April 13, and I thought that might be worth hearing. 

*1 walked to Harringay from the city. I had been there often 
to skate and watch ice hockey. It was a changed place. In- 
stead of confusion and a bit of swearing and drinking, there 
were Bible texts on the walls and a strange quiet among the 
people. It was the night Billy spoke on the Eighth Command- 
ment, Thou shalt not steal.' 

"At the end of his address he started asking people to come 
up front I didn't know what this was all about. I had never 
been to a revival meeting, never seen a conversion or any of 
that sort of thing. But I had a funny feeling I knew this meant 
me and I had to go. 

"When I got into the Inquiry Room a counsellor pointed 
out those key verses I have since become so familiar with. He 
prayed with me and asked the Lord to come into my life. 

"The next morning in the office I hadn't been there five 
minutes before a friend appeared who had been there as a 
counsellor and had actually seen me going into the Inquiry 

242 



Room. She came up to talk to me about my decision. Then, 
for the first time, I began to know what Christian fellowship 
meant. All through that day I had Christians coming up to 
me and giving me the hand of fellowship. I look back on that 
as one of the most wonderful days I have ever spent, I think. 

"The next thing that happened was that I was put in touch 
with the secretary of the Christian Union we have at my bank, 
a very active one of about 100 members. They invited me to 
all their activities their monthly meetings, Bible study groups, 
and every day a prayer meeting at some time or other. That 
has become very much a part of my life. Since then once a 
week on Fridays I've got my regular group of Mends when 
a dozen of us go into a small room that the bank has given 
us to set apart as a prayer-meeting room where we pray for 
the bank, chiefly our Christian, friends in the bank, the activi- 
ties of the Christian Union. 

"Right away I joined a church. I heard one was in need of 
a bit of help and my wife and I thought that was the place 
for us to give a hand. 

"For months now I've never had a moment's doubt or look- 
ing back. The joy of my life has been something I'd never 
known before. For a year I've not known what it is to be 
miserable or bored. When it comes to 'witnessing* I've got so 
much to do I have to run an engagement diary for the evenings 
in order to fit it all in." 

Headmaster of a well-known boys' preparatory school: 
When three upper-school boys asked permission to go to Har- 
ringay, he "reluctantly" said yes. Two days later the three 
returned "We posted a notice," they said. "Can ninety go?" 
They did, and the headmaster went with them. 

At Harringay, the "emotional reaction" he had feared 
would happen happened. From their widely separated seats, 
fifty of than went forward. He decided the "wearing off' 
would take a few days, perhaps until Sunday. 

In addition to compulsory daily chapel, the school, through 

243 



its Christian Union, sponsors a voluntary religious service every 
Sunday evening. The headmaster speaks. Average pre-Har- 
ringay attendance was ten to fifteen boys. The next Sunday 
evening deadline for the "wear-off" there were more than 
seventy. 

Some parents, sure their sons were too young to know what 
it was all about, said, "Give them a month." At the Sunday 
evening service a month later, attendance was still more than 
seventy. After a year the average, despite graduations, is still 
nearly sixty. 

The first week after Harringay, the headmaster received 
another delegation. "We'd like to form a group for Bible study 
in our hall/' Soon every hall had one. A year later, every hall 
still had one. 

"There's a better climate in the school and evidently a better 
one in some homes. Parents no longer ask, 'How long do you 
think it will last?' Some of them are more concerned that it 
won't." 

A Royal Academy drama student: "I was studying the 
theater. I went to Harringay because it was the best show in 
town." The text that night was Matthew 12:30: "He that is 
not with Me is against Me." 

She lives with her parents in a flat over her father's pub. 
They called it a "nine days' wonder" when she told them her 
decision. A few nights later she came home from her first con- 
verts' class. Stairs to the flat led up from the bar. Perhaps she 
was conspicuous, carrying her Bible, the first she ever owned, 
under her arm. Perhaps she had what one of her teachers had 
called "that Harringay look." "In my business," her father told 
her, "we don't hold with Bible-toting." 

Three others from her class were converted at Harringay. 
"At first we buttonholed almost anybody, almost anywhere: 
'You've got to be converted.' Now I thmV we're wiser and 
better witnesses." Their group has grown, in eleven months, 
from four to nineteen. With Billy Graham planning to return 
244 



to London's Wembley Stadium in May, they had raised among 
themselves 12 for two busses to take eighty students. By mid- 
April, they had a waiting list 

"For ten months my parents wouldn't talk to me about what 
had happened. They just watched. I never missed a day pray- 
ing for them." Then, one day, her father said, "I hear your 
Billy Graham is coming to Wembley. You wouldn't have any 
tickets?" She got six: for her father, her mother, and four 
patrons. ''Now," she said, "I'm praying double." 

"So that I can make Christian use of whatever dramatic 
ability I've got," she plans to come to the United States to 
study religious drama. 

A young woman medical student: I met her exactly a year, 
to the day, after her "decision" at Harringay : "My re-birthday," 
she called it. Billy, that night, had preached on Adam and Eve 
"I didn't know," she said, "that anybody ever did any more 
and sin." 

On her way back to the hospital after her "decision" she 
wondered what she would do about the all-girl house party 
planned that weekend at her home. What she did was to start 
it off by telling her story. To her amazement, two others Har- 
ringay converts had "stories" to tell. By Sunday afternoon, 
three of her guests had made "decisions." "For a year, now, 
we've all been in the same prayer group." 

Her father, a churchwarden, was a little dubious. When, 
later, she told him how some of her prayers had been answered 
he was "positively uneasy." 

"But don't you get answers to your prayers?" 

"I can't say," he said, "that I do." 

In the year since Harringay, the Bible study group in the 
hospital where she is studying had more than doubled. At the 
preparatory school where she graduated she has organized 
another group "twenty of them and all going strong." On 
the completion of her medical course, instead of practicing in 
a community not far from London as she had planned, she 

245 



has signed up with, a church mission board for assignment to 
a hospital in Africa. 

A Scot, former captain of the Argyll and Sutherland High- 
landers, blind and partly paralyzed from wounds received at 
Tobruk. Pre-Harringay, he was a near-alcoholic, "a drifter 
frustrated, bored, and with nothing but more of this darkness 
to look forward to." Billy Graham and the London Crusade 
were "so much American ballyhoo" until his girl friend was 
converted. The sudden change in her life jolted him into going 
to Harringay. He went four nights straight. On the fourth night, 
a counsellor came and sat at his side: 

"Young man, you're in trouble." 

"I know it" 

"Come along with me" and he made his way to the Inquiry 
Room. 

In the hotel lobby where he told me his story, he unscrewed 
the top of his hollow, aluminum crutch where he had kept his 
reserve supply of gin. "For eleven months now, there's not 
been a drop in it or in me. And for eleven months, I've not 
known what it is to be bored." 

He had just returned to London from a week's mission a 
"miniature Harringay" in a small city in the Midlands. One 
fourth of the population of the community had attended these 
meetings. There were several hundred decisions. 

To memorize Bible passages, he reads from his Braille Bible 
onto a tape recorder, then, over and over, plays them back. He 
has memorized so many that when he speaks he is sometimes 
startled to hear himself saying, like an echo of Billy Graham, 
"the Bible says. . . ." 

A free-church clergyman: He did not go forward at Har- 
ringay or sign a Decision Card. But this much like many 
minister-testimonies I read is his story. 

"When first suggested, I was suspicious of the Greater Lon- 
don Crusade. But I went to Harringay. On the next Sunday 
I told my folk all about it. I thought it was a great venture 
246 



of faith when we booked two coaches. Then, the reservations 
for the first trip were so many, I gave up my seat. From that 
visit nothing seemed to happen. Then we had another visit. 
I can't exactly describe what happened or how I felt when I 
saw first one and then another of my people going forward; 
then one of my own deacons and then another tears stream- 
ing down their faces to make the greatest of all decisions; 
and greatest of all, my own son, then eighteen, went forward. 

"Later, when our young people had their annual morning 
service, an elder deacon said to me, *You know, we've had 
these youth services for sixty years. Our young folk have gone 
up and talked, in a general way, about God and religion. But 
have you noticed that this year what they have been saying 
is not general, it is personal. It is: *TMy Lord, My Saviour and 
My God." ' 

"As just a humble, working minister I feel I've had more 
results from my labours more lives visibly changed in the 
last few months than in the previous twenty years* For me, in 
my own particular life, Harringay was a reconversion." 

An Anglican vicar: 'Tor some days I have felt constrained 
to write to you. I am the vicar here of a small country town 
in some of the most lonely country in England. I have been 
ordained nearly twenty years and I have only just found 
Christ for whom I have searched ever since I was little more 
than a kid of twelve. I want to tell you because I think you 
have been the mediator of my finding. 

"Last year, Billy Graham came to England. Like many 
others I was skeptical at first I ended by writing you a letter 
asking you to come here. But I never posted it. Then came 
Souls in Conflict. I took twenty-seven folk from here. And then 
something happened to me, the vicar. It's all a chain of events. 
But now I know I have found Christ, that He has even for- 
given my sins, the really awful sins, of the past I seem to have 
a new life. I know He is risen. . . . 

^Last Friday night in a friend's house I watched you on TV 

247 



and then went back to the church just to make sure again 
that I knew. . . . Maybe I'll come down from this moun- 
tain. But this time I know that I shall not come down alone. 
My heart is full of joy and peace. . . /' 

In the year after Harringay there sprang up throughout 
Britain scores of "Drawing-room Harringays" small groups 
of converts, growing as new converts were added, which met 
regularly for Bible study, prayer, testimony, and fellowship. 
The one I attended one night in London was in its tenth month. 
There were twenty-two present: stenographers, clerks, young 
businessmen, a nurse, a medical student, an Oxford graduate 
student, all but one under thirty. The leader was a young 
minister, lately a Cambridge University chaplain. 

When my mission was explained "to find what happens 
after a Billy Graham Crusade" one of them said, "Your story 
is all told in the thirteenth chapter of Matthew." 

Later that night I read the passage he referred to: 

"Behold, a sower went forth to sow. . . . Some seeds fell 
by the wayside and the fowls came and devoured them up; 
some fell upon stony places . . . and because they had not 
root, they withered away. . . . And some fell among thorns; 
and the thorns sprung up, and choked them. But other fell 
into good ground, and brought forth fruit, some an hundred- 
fold, some sixtyfold, some thirtyfold. Who hath ears to hear, 
let him hear." 



248 



15: In the wake of the U.S. Crusades 



BEGINNING with Los Angeles, in the fall of 1949, through 
Richmond, Virginia, and Oklahoma City in the spring of 1956, 
Billy Graham, in addition to scores of single-meeting engage- 
ments, has conducted full-fledged Crusades in twenty-two U.S. 
cities, and one in Toronto, Canada. 

It is worth noting that, prior to the Los Angeles Crusade, 
no large-scale evangelistic meetings had been held in the 
United States since, in the years before World War I, Billy 
Sunday was in his prime. From the 1920s through the early 
1940s, Protestant gatherings of as many as 10,000 people 
seldom if ever happened and were rarely attempted. 

It was, in large part, the currently unprecedented size of 
the crowds which made the Los Angeles Crusade front-page 
news in that city and a news story across the country. And a 
Protestantism impelling enough to enough people to merit 
front-page attention was, in itself, a heartening upturn of events 
for the churches. I have described, in an earlier chapter, how 
in every Billy Graham Crusade there is, via the press, the same 
widespread confrontation between the Christian Gospel and a 
multitude of those who customarily are indifferent to and un- 
touched by religion's conventional appeals. That, perfctaps, 

249 



does not rate among the results of a Crusade. It certainly rates 
as one of its opportunities. 

As for the churches themselves, Dr. John Sutherland Bon- 
nell, minister of the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church in New 
York City, remarked, after seeing in one city the many hun- 
dreds of laymen and laywomen who in prayer and Bible 
study groups and in counseling classes were drawn into the 
work of preparation for a Crusade: "If no meetings were held, 
just the expectancy has been worthwhile." 

But, beginning with Los Angeles, Billy Graham's U.S. Cru- 
sades not only made religion front-page news. They tested Billy 
Graham. They sped his growth. They established his evange- 
lism as no fly-by-night religious extravaganza, but as a sober, 
constructive, church-centered ministry and they established 
Billy Graham as no hellfire-and-brimstone ranter but as an 
evangelist whose personal dedication and integrity merited 
comparison with the great evangelists of the past. It was such 
evidence growing in weight and recognition with every U.S. 
Crusade that opened the way for his expanding ministry in 
Great Britain, on the European continent and in Asia. 

In many U.S. cities I have followed from one to six years 
later in the wake of Billy Graham. The evidence I gathered 
as to the permanence of the results of his Crusades is not 
statistical. I do not know and I did not make any particular 
effort to find out just what percentage of the "converts 59 in those 
cities are still carrying on. The statistical polls which I have 
seen for two cities were both made by amateurs obviously 
critical of Billy Graham. The results of both were somewhat 
negative. 

I am not disputing as I might the accuracy of those results. 
But I do question their importance. I am quite sure that if 
Dr. George Gallup had been operating in the first century A.D. 
and had made a poll in Athens or Ephesus or Philippi or Rome 
he could have come up with the kind of negative data which 
would have made it possible to give a similar statistical brush- 
250 



off to the permanence of the results of the preaching of St 
Paul. Dr. Gallup would have been right, statistically. How 
wrong he would have been historically! 

Moreover, if, statistically, a considerable percentage of con- 
verts do not survive, some substantial measure of responsibility 
for that failure must be borne by the ministers and churches 
to whom with greater care and insistence than has ever before 
characterized such an evangelistic effort their survival is en- 
trusted. 

The attitude and climate which, in a few churches, insure 
a high casualty rate among converts was never more clearly 
revealed than by the London correspondent of the Christian 
Century, influential nondenominational U.S. church paper, in 
his account of Billy Graham's meetings in London's Wembley 
Stadium in May, 1955. These were the meetings hailed by an 
at-first hostile press as "the phenomenon of the mid-century." 
Yet this correspondent for a religious paper, himself a minister, 
made this "phenomenon" a fifteen-line item in his two-column 
report of British church news. His concluding sentence is, hap- 
pily, a libel on most members of the British clergy. But it de- 
serves pondering by anyone honestly concerned to know why 
some converts sent to some churches fail to survive the shock: 
"All that many of Britain's clergymen ask for now is a quiet 
summer, free from the unceasing attentions of the Graham 
publicity machine, and a chance to get on with the humdrum 
parish work without having to lead parties to the heady de- 
lights of gigantic meetings in the rain." 

I am aware, of course, that the yearning of the minority of 
ministers for whom this minister speaks to get shed of Bitty 
Graham and have a "quiet summer'* is not, in any important 
part, due to the fact that a Crusade involves them in more 
work or exposes them unduly to the elements. It is due, rather, 
to the fact that, for this limited segment of the clergy, the work 
it often involves them in is sO totally unJike their "humdrum 
parish work" and the people it often involves them with are 

251 



so utterly different from the kind such parish work conven- 
tionally produces. I can well understand how upsetting, not to 
say nervously exhausting, it would be for both minister and 
people if some U.S. churches I know were suddenly to find 
themselves on the receiving end of a group of eager converts 
zealous to test and grow in their new-found faith and, at the 
drop of a hat, to "bear witness for Christ" to others. 

Statistically, the churches of the United States do not need 
Billy Graham. Statistically, they are doing all right. But spiritu- 
ally, as J. B. Phillips points out in the introduction to his stir- 
ring translation of the Acts of the Apostles, there has been 
a "deterioration in Christian faith and Christian living. . . . 
The Church is very rarely making any considerable impact 
upon the modern pattern of living. It has unquestionably lost 
power; it has lost vision. . . ." 

It is true that statistics the size of the crowds, the numbers 
who make "decisions" figure importantly in the news of every 
Billy Graham Crusade. But the real test the payoff, so to 
speak is not statistical. It is not whether, adding-machine- 
wise, the churches have gained great numbers, but whether, 
altar-wise, they have gained a few great Christians. Beginning 
in the first century, every triumphant chapter in the church's 
history is evidence that a few who are Christian enough have 
always proved to be numbers enough. 

In every city I found, as I had found in Great Britain, men 
and women who, since the Billy Graham Crusade and because 
of it, were doing .much more than carrying on; who had not 
only caught the Christian contagion, but had made it catch- 
ing; individuals in the first-century tradition who, beginning 
with themselves, were turning their worlds small worlds 
though they often were "upside down." I do not know how 
many Christians of this kind would be required to make a 
total large enough to constitute "success" in the eyes of the 
critics of Billy Graham. The New Testament gives the impres- 
sion that, in the eyes of the Lord, it would not take very many. 
252 



Out of curiosity and to please Susie, his wife, Stuart Ham- 
blen Southern California's best-known radio singer and song- 
writer attended one Billy Graham meeting. To escape a sec- 
ond, he left Los Angeles on a hunting trip. A storm drove him 
out of the mountains. The next night he went again with his 
wife to hear Billy Graham. 

"Boy," he said, after he had "successfully" resisted that 
night's call for decisions, "you made it." 

About three o'clock the next morning Billy Graham got a 
telephone call in his hotel It was Stuart Hamblen: 

"Can Susie and I come over right away?" 

They had a prayer meeting there Billy Graham, Grady 
Wilson, Susie, and Stuart kneeling around the bed in Billy's 
room. 

"Lord," Stuart prayed, "You're hearing a new voice this 
morning. . . ." 

Among the more than 5,000 who made "decisions for 
Christ" during the Los Angeles Crusade, Stuart Hamblen 
would not add much, percentage-wise, to the evidence of that 
Crusade's permanent results. Religiously like so many others 
I have met the consequences of his conversion cannot be 
reckoned by addition, but only by multiplication. 

One of the faith-slanted songs written since his conversion, 
"This Ole House," was at one time at the top of the Hit 
Parade. Another, "His Hands," recorded by Mahalia Jackson 
for Columbia Records, has been a best seller. So has the re- 
cording for Coral Records of "Open Up Your Heart." 

To "witness for Christ," by song and personal testimony, 
Stuart Hamblen, every year, appears at scores of religious 
gatherings. In 1955, by air and at his own expense, he made 
more than 100,000 miles of such evangelistic journeyiEgs. 

"How about it?" one of his skeptical friends asked hi 
"Have you still got sawdust on youx knees?" 

"I sure have," said Hamblen, "and Tm going to die with 
sawdust there." 

253 



In September, 1949, when the Billy Graham Los Angeles 
Crusade began, Jim Vaus, an electronics expert, was estab- 
lished and getting rich at it as chief wiretapper for Mickey 
Cohen, Southern California's boss gangster. One night, on the 
eve of his departure on a Mickey Cohen mission to St. Louis, 
Vaus's wife, Alice, persuaded him "lacking any good movies 
in the neighborhood" to go with her to a Billy Graham 
meeting "just to see what this fellow's like." That night, Alice 
says, "Billy preached on God's judgment and God's mercy. 
When he gave the altar call I prayed, 'This is for me and for 
Jim, too, Lord, please.' Jim sat there unmoved. I prayed again, 
'Lord, if this doesn't touch him, what will . . . ?' 

"The crowd rose to sing, 'Almost persuaded, now to believe, 
almost persuaded, Christ to receive.' Again my heart cried, 
^Persuade Jim, Lord, persuade him.' 

"A wiry man with spare hair and a determined look on his 
thin face grabbed him by the arm. Jim glared at him. But he 
bowed his head to pray and when he raised his eyes, Jim 
muttered, Til go.' " 

To make restitution for electronic and photographic equip- 
ment he had stolen there was some $15,000 of it Jim Vaus 
sold his house and his automobile. He wrote, among others, 
to radio station KFWB, detailing what he had stolen, asking 
what he could do to make things right: "I want to right things 
with men that I may be right with God." The station manager's 
answer was: "Your unusual but courageous letter of December 
8 received and we are happy to note your admission and your 
change of attitude. That in itself is payment in full as far as 
we are concerned. ..." 

When he turned up at the telephone company with a load of 
stolen goods, the manager there instead of calling the police 
as Vaus expected offered him a job. 

He wrote to the district attorney confessing that, in a recent 
gangster case, he had committed perjury. He was promptly 
subpoenaed. The Court warned him: "You don't have to 
254 



testify if your testimony will incriminate you." Vaus chose to 
testify and concluded his testimony with the Court's permission 
by giving his own account of what, as a result of "accepting 
Christ as my personal Savior," had happened to him. As a 
result of the evidence he gave, an officer of the Los Angeles 
police force was freed from charges pending against him. The 
indictment for perjury, which Vaus was certain would come, 
never materialized. 

Now, Jim Vaus spends several months of every year con- 
ducting evangelistic services across the country. His crowds 
are large and so are the offerings. But all of the latter, save 
traveling expenses and his own $400-a-month salary, go into 
his Missionary Communication Service a non-profit founda- 
tion he has established to provide electronic equipment for 
Christian missionaries in isolated stations around the world 
"taming my specialty from crime to Christ's account" Wire- * 
tapper, a film produced in 1955 which dramatized the story of 
his underworld career and his conversion, was described by 
Time magazine as one of present-day evangelism's "most po- 
tent weapons." 

Before World War EC, Louis Zamperini was a track star 
at the University of Southern California. He was a miler on the 
U.S. team in the 1936 Olympics. In 1943 the plane in which 
he was a bombardier was shot down in the Pacific. When 
finally picked up by a Japanese fishing boat he, with one other 
survivor, had floated forty-seven days in a rubber raft Worse 
tortures were visited on him by guards in Japan's prison camps. 
When, at the war's end a year after the War Department had 
declared him dead he was released, he was rated as one 
of the half-dozen men "who suffered most in World War EL" 

Four years after the war's end, the "hero stuff' having worn 
thin, his marriage was near the rocks, his funds were running 
out, he had no settled job and "whaf s worse," he says, "no plan 
or purpose for my life." 

It was his wife, Cynthia, herself a Crusade convert, wbo 

255 



persuaded him to "give Billy Graham a one-meeting once- 
over." He left before Billy had finished preaching. When, on 
Cynthia's urging, he agreed to go a second time it was on con- 
dition "that you will leave with me whenever I ask you to." 
She promised. 

That night Billy Graham's text was: 'Tor what shall it 
profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own 
soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?" 

"When he gave the invitation to accept Jesus as our Savior, 
I would not budge; I could not; I would not, 

" 'Don't you want to go forward?' asked Cynthia. . . . The 
moment had come; I stood at the top of a high wall; at the 
peak of conviction, I could still jump either way. 

" 'Let's leave,' I said and she rose slowly, her face very sad. 
But halfway down the aisle I stopped fighting and knew what 
I had to do. Turning around, I made my way to the prayer 
room. . . ." 

Zamperini, too, made restitution: to the guards who, day 
after day, had tortured him in Japanese prison camps and 
toward whom, with the passing years, his hatred had not 
diminished. With friends helping to finance his trip, he went 
to Japan. He sought out as many of his torturers as he could 
find some of them in prison. To each he gave his Christian 
testimony and offered, with his hand, his friendship. 

"The six-year hate was over and I prayed my thanks. . . ." 

Back in the United States, Zamperini was offered a lecture 
contract: $50,000 a year for seven years the only condition 
being that when it came to "talking about Christ," he would 
have to tone down a bit, agree not to "go overboard." Zam- 
perini turned down the contract and "went to work, MUime, 
for the Lord." 

Today the dream which he and Cynthia had after their con- 
version is a reality: a Christian camp in the mountains not 
far from Los Angeles for juvenile delinquents, "Victory Boys' 
Camp." When the first "batch" of boys arrived the camp bank 
256 



account was down to $50. "Faith," says Zamperini, "opened 
the camp and miracles have kept it going." Even greater 
miracles appear to have been worked in the lives of many of 
the confirmed delinquents he has taken in. The reality of those 
miracles is, I think, pretty well indicated by the wholehearted 
endorsement of his work by officials of the government of 
Los Angeles and of the state of California. 

It probably could be figured, in estimating, statistically, the 
results of the Billy Graham Los Angeles Crusade, exactly 
how much the conversions of Stuart Hamblen and Jim Vaus 
and Louis and Cynthia Zamperini added quantitatively to 
Christianity's lump in that city: an infinitesimal, percentage. 
The item of real significance, however, cannot be reckoned: 
how much, in Los Angeles and beyond it, their conversions 
added to Christianity's lump-enlivening leaven. 

There are stories like these in every city where there has 
been a Billy Graham Crusade: of individuals who, as a result 
of that Crusade, became contagious Christians and for whom 
life's most important business has become the spreading of 
that contagion. I have enough such "case histories" in my 
own notes not merely to fill a chapter, but to make a substan- 
tial start toward a book. Yet I know that my inquiries hardly 
scratched the surface. 

In a Midwestern city I had breakfast one morning with a 
couple converts in the Billy Graham Crusade in that city 
more than five years before. At that time he was a member 
of the State Parole Board. When I met him he had become 
its chairman. Of the 1,500 convicted criminals then on parole 
in his state there had not been a single serious case of parole 
violation a record probably unmatched in the United States. 

"There is no mystery about it," he said. "I told my fellow 
members of the board what had happened to me. I suggested 
that we give God a place in our deliberations. They agreed 
and we have." 

Every parole board meeting, thereafter, began with prayer, 

257 



every case was given not only factual, but prayerful con- 
sideration. Through most of that morning he recounted stories 
not merely of parolees who had met the requirements of 
their parole, but of individuals who, helped back to a place 
in society, had had their lives transformed. 

Two invitations had just come to him: one, to accept in 
New York an executive position with the National Probation 
and Parole Association of the National Parole Board; the 
other, to establish, at Wheaton College in Illinois, a depart- 
ment for preparing Christian students to go into the field of 
correction and social work. 

His wife said, "If you have met many people whose lives 
were changed through Billy Graham's preaching, you will 
know why we chose Wheaton." 

Five years after the Billy Graham Crusade there, I met the 
mayor of a Deep South city, a successful businessman. 

"As a city,'* he said, "we've never been the same since, 
and, as a person, neither have I. It has made a difference for 
the better in the way business is carried on in our city that 
four groups of businessmen, organized as a result of the Cru- 
sade, meet regularly for Bible study and prayer. It has made 
for better labor-management relations that plant prayer meet- 
ings of employees and employers, begun during the Crusade, 
still meet, some of them daily. 

"Today, in our city, interracial good will and cooperation 
are at an all-time high. Whites and Negroes, we are moving 
ahead together. When I appointed a Negro the first to our 
school board, the community accepted it, not as the necessary, 
but as the right thing to do. I don't think that would have 
happened without the new spirit engendered among our people 
during the Billy Graham Crusade. And, save for what hap- 
pened to me, personally, in that Crusade, I doubt if I would 
have made such an appointment in the first place." 

For a young businessman in another city, the night his Wife 
persuaded him to go with her to a Crusade meeting was his 
258 



first attendance at a religious service in sixteen years. He 
had made a success of business. Amateur golf champion of 
his state, 'the only god I had was golf." 

That night, he went to the Crusade "straight from a gam- 
bling session at the club." He had a good seat: "My wife had 
gone two hours before the doors opened to make sure of it" 
What he heard "hit me squarely between the eyes." For five 
nights thereafter, he says, "I weathered the storm of convic- 
tion." On the sixth night the last "I was patting myself on 
my back when God took over: 'It's tonight or never.' Then 
something happened that really shook me. My wife got up, 
brushed past me, and walked down that long aisle. My last 
excuse was washed out. The choir was on the fifth verse of 
'Just As I Am' only one more verse to go. 

" 'All right, Lord,' I said, *I can't figure it all out. But I'm 
going to put one foot forward and let you take me the rest of 
the way. . . .' 

"That was six years ago. Our quarrel-riddled home has been 
made over. We didn't argue with our cocktail-party and gam- 
bling friends. We were finding a bigger thrill in our daily 
devotions. Bible reading, and prayer. It's one of the miracles 
to us how many of those friends, in the years since, have 
discovered the same thrill." 

Today he still plays tournament golf on any day but Sun- 
day. Sundays he teaches a men's Bible class through which, 
in 1955, there were thirty-nine "decisions for Christ." He is 
chairman of the evangelistic committee of his church, member 
of the board of directors of a Christian Service Center. He 
leads a small laymen's group which conducts religious services 
in the state penitentiary, prison farms, veterans' hospitals, the 
state university. 

"I wouldn't trade one minute of my life in these six years 
for all the more than thirty years that went before." 

There is more such evidence, in high places and low, than 
I have space to recount: 

259 



In Washington, D.C., a Pentagon stenographer has shared 
a home with several girls all converts in the Washington 
Crusade in 1951 in order that they might have "a base from 
which to witness for Christ.'*. . . In Philadelphia, a bank vice- 
president who, hearing Billy Graham, decided, "I can't fool 
around the edges of the real thing any longer." Now, three 
years later, he is chairman of the Philadelphia Christian Busi- 
ness Men's Committee, active in its religious radio program. 
His country home is "still a place for weekend parties but 
now they are Christ-centered parties.". . . In a Southern city, 
the editor of a newspaper who, converted in a Billy Graham 
campaign two years before, gave his first testimony in a signed 
front-page story in his newspaper, today is active in the church 
he joined and says today that his conversion "made all the 
difference." ... In 1952, a senior at the University of Wash- 
ington attended "totally unconcerned, but just for the fun 
of it" one of the meetings of the Seattle Crusade. What 
he got at that meeting he took back to his fraternity house, 
and soon there was a "Christian cell" meeting regularly in 
his room for Bible study and prayer. He graduated in 1956 
from a West Coast theological seminary "the last thing on 
earth I thought I'd be doing." The "cell" he started in his own 
fraternity house is continuing. As a result, several others, in 
both fraternity and sorority houses, have since been started. 

In the fall of 1955 several young men were ordained for 
the Presbyterian ministry in Washington, D.C. Every one of 
these young men, according to Dr. Edward L. R. Elson, pastor 
of Washington National Presbyterian Church, was "brought 
to Christian experience in Billy Graham's Washington meet- 
ing." 

One of the ministers of Southern California's largest Presby- 
terian church told me, "I personally know of more than a few 
young men and women who are now in seminaries or in church 
work here or in the mission field as a result of the 'decision for 
Christ' they made during the Los Angeles Crusade. Mor cover, 
260 



that Crusade was like a great bridge across the rift between 
the secular man and the churchman. Today the churches of 
this area are closer to the man in the street than ever before. 
That drawing together began with Billy Graham/* 

I called one day in Los Angeles at the office of one of the 
city's prominent real estate operators. "But this," he told me, 
"isn't the biggest thing in my life. The biggest thing in my 
life comes on Thursday night." Beginning with the Billy 
Graham Los Angeles Crusade, he had invited a few friends 
for Thursday evening Bible study. Now, after more than six 
years, that Bible class taught by a well-known Los Angeles 
surgeon has grown to an average attendance of more than 
200. "To handle the crowd," he said, "my wife and I have 
built an addition to our house. If it continues to grow well 
gladly add another," 

Riding through a residential area of Nashville, Tennessee, 
a friend called my attention to a sign on the front lawn of a 
lovely home. "There," he said, "is one of the permanent results 
of the Billy Graham Crusade." The sign read: "Neighborhood 
Prayer Meeting Here, This Morning." In preparation for the 
Crusade in 1954, Nashville women organized over 1,600 such 
neighborhood prayer groups. They met four mornings a week 
for four weeks. Now, more than two years later, scores of them 
are continuing to meet once a week. "If we stopped," the 
leader of one group told me, "every family in this street would 
be the loser. So would Nashville." 

A Chattanooga newspaperman wrote me: "Interest has 
grown, not lessened since the end of the Crusade four years 
ago. Chattanooga may be the only city in America where 
students at the two largest high schools have organized prayer 
groups. It all began with Billy Graham. As for individuals, I 
could tick off for you the names of at least a half-dozen young 
men who made 'decisions' during the Crusade and are now 
studying for the ministry. Doesn't that sound pretty perma- 
nent?" 

261 



The minister of Chattanooga's largest Methodist church 
gave it as his conviction four years after the Billy Graham 
meetings that "the Crusade created a new spirit and environ- 
ment in the city. . . . Prayer groups organized during the 
Crusade are more alive today than when they began. In my 
own church there are more than 200 prayer cells of from three 
to seven people each. Stirred by the Crusade many of our 
Methodist laymen have become lay preachers in small rural 
churches without pastors." 

Two years after the New Orleans Crusade, the minister of 
the First Baptist Church reported that since Billy Graham's 
meetings there religion has had "a new lift" to it. The lasting 
consequence is not only still felt in the churches, but "extends 
to the whole moral life of New Orleans." In Memphis, says 
the minister of one of its largest churches, Billy Graham, three 
years after the Crusade, "is still refreshing to the religious life 
of the city. He was, and is, like a breeze in the desert. People 
are talking more about the church since he was here." 

Three years after the 1952 Crusade in Pittsburgh, the edi- 
tors of Parade magazine sent two reporters to that city to find 
the permanent effects of that Crusade, if any. An Episcopal 
bishop told them that "the general awakening" stirred by Billy 
Graham was still being felt The minister of a United Presby- 
terian church described the lasting results as "formidable"; a 
Methodist minister, as "tremendous." Among Pittsburgh's 
churchgoers, **there seems to be little doubt," said these re- 
porters, "that a new spirit, engendered by Graham, is visible. 
Prayer groups and youth rallies started under the initial 
Graham enthusiasm, still meet weekly." Among all kinds of 
people businessmen, schoolteachers, housewives, students, 
office workers they found converts who were effectively and 
contagiously carrying on. Their conclusion: 

"The question Does Billy Graham's kind of religion 'stick'? 
can be answered. The answer is Yes and No, with emphasis 
on the Yes." 

262 



Statistical appraisals of the permanence of the results of 
Billy Graham's Crusades will, I am sure, continue to be under- 
taken. The results of some of them, no doubt, will continue to 
serve as a means whereby the spiritually comfortable will seek 
to escape discomfiture. But there is another and, for Christians, 
a more conclusive kind of appraisal from which there is no such 
easy out: 

"Another parable set he before them, saying, the kingdom 
of heaven is like unto a grain of mustard seed, which a man 
took and sowed in his field; which, indeed, is less than all seeds; 
but when it is grown it is greater than the herbs and becometh 
a tree, so that the birds of the heaven come and lodge in the 
branches thereof." 



263 



16; Revival in our time? 



IN THE SUCCESSION of small Nebraska and Wyoming 
towns where he served, my Methodist-preacher-father, six 
nights a week for at least two weeks each winter, conducted a 
revival. In the language of the Methodist Discipline this was 
called a "protracted meeting" and whatever results accrued 
were duly reported to the Presiding Elder at the next Quarterly 
Conference. In the lower echelon of churches, such as ours, 
such meetings were common Methodist practice. But my 
father faithfully followed that practice not so much because 
such evangelism was prescribed by the Discipline as because 
his own convictions were "soundly evangelical 95 

With so much rousing singing of Gospel songs and so much 
rousing Gospel preaching to listen to, these protracted meet- 
ings were a stirring time for the minister's family and, in, I 
am sure, a somewhat lesser degree, for others of the faithful. 
But therein lay the distressing thing about them: that they were 
so seldom attended by any but the already saved 

Mornings, at family devotions, and each night in church, 
it was the burden of my father's prayers that somehow, some- 
way, God would bring the unsaved within reach. He did not 
doubt that God had entrusted to him a Gospel needful and 

265 



sufficient for the sinner's salvation. What he longed and 
prayed for was access to the sinner. Like prayers, I am sure, 
must have besieged the Throne of Grace from countless other 
altars such as ours. 

In this generation in the United States that prayer is being 
answered: "abundantly," as my father would have expressed it, 
"above all ye are able to ask or think." Whether they are still 
called sinners or by some pleasanter, if less definitive, name, 
the church's problem with the unevangelized is no longer one 
of inaccessibility. This is perhaps the most religiously acces- 
sible generation in American history. The present problem is 
not how to bring in the unreached, but, rather, how to deal 
with a generation that is almost too reachable. 

In proportion to total population, more Americans than ever 
before belong to some church; more attend church regularly; 
more send their children to Sunday school. They give a greater 
proportion than ever before of their disposable income, i.e., 
income after taxes, to religious causes; build more and more 
beautiful churches; read more religious and pseudoreligious 
books and articles; sing and dance to more songs which have 
near-religious lyrics; attend more movies on religion or quasi- 
religious subjects; hear and see more religious radio and TV. 

In fact, by every quantitative measurement and by all the 
external manifestations, religion in the United States is boom- 
ing. Its marks and signs were never so visible; its spokesmen 
never so widely, so often or, in many instances, so gladly 
heard; its conventional appeals never so readily responded to. 
Observing all this, as he could hardly fail to, the Apostle Paul 
would almost certainly say of mid-twentieth-century Ameri- 
cans what he said of the first-century Athenians: "Men of 
Athens, I perceive that in every way you are very religious." 

Many secular observers agree with the historian Arnold J. 
Toynbee that the saving of the West and the restoring of the 
spirit of Western man require "the revival of religion." Im- 
pressive as they are, the facts of revived religious interest in 
266 



the United States do not indicate that such a religious revival 
as yet is under way. From this great abundance of religious 
manifestations, there is still no like abundance of authentic 
religion. Religion, as yet, is not making a deep enough differ- 
ence to a large enough number of people in a significant 
enough number of ways. 

What these stirrings do indicate is that vast numbers of 
people have now come within reach of those whose calling it 
is to take such inadequate gropings and so deal with them that 
if a revival is to come at all, this will be its time. 

They have not been generally dealt with that way. Though 
the openness to religion which now prevails is a consummation 
long and earnestly prayed for, its advent has not been received, 
at least among Protestantism's so-called liberals, as answered 
prayers presumably are. Whether or not this is due to con- 
sternation at being confronted with an answer and a chal- 
lenge of such proportions, these stirrings have not been wel- 
comed in these quarters so often as they have been decried; 
discounted as "fad" or "vogue" or "passing fancy"; "The New 
Look," as the heading in one religious journal put it, "in 
American Piety." 

Preachers who have seen a religious opportunity in this sit- 
uation and whose preaching, as a result, has won a popular 
following have been widely, sometimes intemperately, attacked 
by fellow clergymen for fostering a "cult of reassurance," vari- 
ously described as "dangerous," "sinister," "very nearly blas- 
phemous." 

In Look magazine, the president of the National Council 
of the Churches of Christ thought he discerned in the present 
"religious boom" certain signs which he feared might make 
it a "spiritual bust." What, in his opinion, is being revived in 
America is not the "righteous and living God" but '*the old 
tribal gods." Chief among them, he says, are "Mammon, the 
god of industrial prosperity and worldly success"; the god of 
"escapist religion" ; god in the guise of "Healer." 

267 



A professor in Union Theological Seminary, progressive 
Protestantism's most influential theological school, has reduced 
"today's religious revival" to an expression of "culture re- 
ligion" with these its distinguishing features: "The tendency to 
reduce Christianity to a Gospel of happiness and success. . . . 
The loss of any basis of criticism of our culture as a whole and 
the close alliance with the forces of nationalism. The capitaliz- 
ing on the fact that communism is atheistic and the strong 
suggestion that because we are against communism God must 
be on our side. The close cooperation between many of the 
leaders of this movement and the forces of social reaction." 

A writer in the Christian Century, which is progressive 
Protestantism's most influential journal of opinion, has defined 
the "new piety" as the ascendancy in our midst of three dubi- 
ously religious "cults." The "cult of peace of mind," "which 
readily turns into religious narcissism," is described as "piety 
concentrating on its own navel." The "cult of the Man Up- 
stairs" is "Gospel boogie replete with masters of ceremonies, 
Gospel quartets, popcorn and soda pop." The "cult of We 
versus They" which assumes that "the God of judgment is 
dead" and his place taken by a "god who fights on the side of 
his chosen people, supporting their racial, economic or na- 
tional interests." 

Few will deny the measure of truth in some of these warn- 
ings or doubt that the religion of some of those who have been 
caught up in today's religious boom and of some of those who 
are riding its crest may have something to be desired and 
something, no doubt, to be feared. The unfortunate fact about 
these often salutary words of warning is that they are so gen- 
erally the only words that are authoritatively spoken. In the 
midst of this vast upsurge, the clearest call is not "take over," 
but * Vatch out." 

By every visible prospect, "the harvest, indeed, is plente- 
ous." Yet, so far, "the laborers are few." 

This is not because of a shortage of Christian workers or a 
268 



lack of energy in their pursuit of Christianity's good works. 
There are no figures for it but, from considerable observation 
I am sure that, currently, a greater proportion of church 
members go more busily than ever before about the church's 
business. The activities listed in the Sunday bulletin of the 
average congregation are a record of the unpausing pursuit 
of things worthwhile. It does not minimize their importance 
to say that they also seem to reflect what sometimes appears 
to be a peculiar genius of the modern church: to make several 
organizations grow where previously one seemed to suffice. 

With so many mechanisms to man, to guide, to fuel and 
lubricate, it is not remarkable that the functions of the min- 
ister have become less those of shepherd than of overseer. If 
what was once his study is now his office, that fact is a mark 
of what the present business of the church demands and of 
his undeniable diligence in it. 

But underneath this ceaseless religious bustle there is an 
ominous fact. That fact is that for more than a generation, the 
theology which has widely prevailed among Protestant clergy 
and the Gospel widely preached in the churches have been 
such as to prepare organized religion to meet almost any con- 
tingency save the kind that now exists; to speak, with authority, 
on almost any kind of need save the present kind. A large part 
of the lukewannness with which these present religious phe- 
nomena are received must be due less to skepticism and in- 
difference than, simply, to unfamiliarity with phenomena of 
such sort and lack of preparation in how to deal with them. 

The preparation which, for the present situation, has left so 
much of the church unprepared was a natural, perhaps the 
necessary, product of the almost totally different religious sit- 
uation of a generation ago. At that time, compared to the 
present, organized religion in the United States was in the 
doldrums and religious belief was widely and, in some 
quarters, to the point of panic on the defensive. 

Protestantism, in that period, had yet to benefit from the 

269 



dynamic apologetics of Reinhold Niebuhr or Catholicism from 
those of Fulton Sheen. Bertrand Russell declaring that "omnip- 
otent matter rolls on its relentless way" and Henry Mencken 
describing man as "a sick fly taking a dizzy ride" on a flywheel 
cosmos spoke for more people than the theologians. Human- 
ism "religion without God" was a rising tide. Modern man, 
said one secular survey, "knows almost nothing about the 
nature of God, almost never thinks about it and is compla- 
cently unaware that there may be any reason to." 

Such religious unconcern was probably an inevitable pro- 
duct of the times. In the wake of the discoveries and indus- 
trialism of the nineteenth century had come twentieth-century 
mass production, and almost every American home was or was 
about to become a shrine to house its benefits. God's face was 
obscured by the accumulation of man's handiwork. Things 
were the ultimate good; the struggle to get them was becoming 
our way of life. 

"The general tendencies toward the secularization of life," 
wrote a distinguished theologian, "have been consistent enough 
to prompt its foes to predict religion's ultimate extinction as a 
major interest of mankind." 

In such a period of religious depression the concerns of the 
spokesmen for religion were not perhaps they could not be 
theologically selective; their doctrines not dogmatic; their 
prescriptions not too hard to take. Man had too much that was 
too visibly to his material credit and he was too satisfied with 
its enjoyment to have time or patience for such apparently 
discrediting, prehumanistic notions as the Christian doctrines 
of Satan and Savior, Hell and Heaven, Sin, Repentance, and 
Salvation. The most popular preachers were those who gave 
such doctrines the widest berth. 

Theology, necessarily perhaps, was tailored to the times. 
That was the heyday of modernism whose "reduced Christian- 
ity" doubtless was as strong stuff, religiously, as, in view of the 
prevailing appetites, there was any stomach for. Since it seemed 
270 



futile to try to make God spiritually real, modernism undertook 
to make Him intellectually respectable. If God could not be 
pleased, man, at least, might be placated. 

What dynamism there was then in the churches was largely 
supplied by the so-called social Gospel which found in the 
amelioration of social conditions and the betterment of racial 
and international relations the chief purpose of the Christian 
revelation and the chief means for its validation. 

That it was sometimes preached with authentically prophetic 
voices, that it greatly extended the boundaries of Christian 
concern, that it added and continues to add significantly to 
Christianity's this-worldly contributions does not alter the fact 
that the social Gospel was, in considerable measure, a product 
of the spiritually indifferent times in which it arose. Many 
people to whom, on the personal level, such Christian doc- 
trines as I have mentioned above Sin, Repentance, Salvation 
were repugnant were readily stirred when those doctrines 
were expounded on a level that was impersonal and collective. 
No doubt, also, some people found in the social Gospel the 
means by which, temporarily at least, they could sublimate 
their need for a personal Gospel. Knowing, as Bishop Sheen 
has pointed out, that something was **wrong on the inside," 
they attempted **to compensate for it by righting the wrong on 
the outside." 

Religion, thus, was widely, often effectively prepared to 
speak to men's minds and to their social consciences, but with 
much less assurance to their hearts and their wills. 

However great their contributions were and continue to be, 
it seems clear that if good works, modernist theology, and a 
social Gospel had in than the materials for a religious revival, 
such a revival, long before now, would have been upon us. 
There has been, in those vineyards, no shortage of laborers. 
It is not, I flimlc, for the fruit of those vineyards that today's 
seekers are most earnestly looking. 

Though the quest may be only haltingly under way, the level 

271 



of today's seeking is not so much social, as personal; its diffi- 
culties not so much intellectual as of the heart and will; the 
changes which, however hesitantly, are being sought are not, 
first, in the world, but, first, in "me"; the life plan which is 
being reached for, however clumsily, is not first for society's 
life, but first for "mine." 

Religion has, so generally, become a common American 
concern because of the personal problems which have become 
common to so many Americans. 

Countless people are turning to religion for precisely the 
same reasons of inner stress and conflict which are leading an 
unparalleled number of others to turn to barbiturates. Are 
these expecting too much from a religion whose Founder said, 
"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the 
world giveth, give I unto you"? 

A religious answer is being sought by countless people for 
the same reasons of inner disturbance and fear which have led 
so many others to seek escape in alcoholism. Is it promising 
too much to say that there is such an escape in the religion 
whose Founder also said, "Let not your heart be troubled: 
neither let it be afraid" . . . ? 

Many are looking to religion for a plan and purpose for life 
for precisely the same reasons of frustration and meaningless- 
ness which have helped make mental health our country's most 
serious health problem. Are these people fooling themselves 
to expect such plan and purpose from a religion which de- 
clares: "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of 
power, and of love, and of a sound mind"? 

There may be, there no doubt are better religious answers 
than those sometimes offered by the so-called "cult of re- 
assurance." But the very fact that there is such a cult and that 
it has grown to such proportions is in itself evidence of how 
large the number is of men and women who feel, within them- 
selves, the need to be reassured and who acknowledge that, 
of themselves, that need is not being met. 
272 



Who were most of those who sought out Jesus, if not men 
and women seeking, each for his own particular distress, re- 
assurance? And is there any single theme other than one of 
reassurance "Glad Tidings/' "Healing," "Hope," "Light," 
"Peace," "Salvation," "Eternal Life" which runs so clearly 
through the whole of the New Testament? 

This present looking to religion for these personal answers 
is not a religious revival. But if it is not revival material, then, 
it seems to me, there is little to guide us in the teachings of 
Jesus Christ and little of meaning for us, as individuals, in the 
lives of history's triumphant Christians. In that case the best 
and most that Christian leadership will have to offer will be a 
pious smattering of amateur psychiatry and, that failing, a 
roster of accredited psychiatrists. 

Here, I think, is the quality which above all else most notably 
distinguishes the preaching of Billy Graham and constitutes 
the most portentous fact about his ministry. To him today's 
turn to religion is revival material and constitutes a challenge 
such as the churches and their leadership have not faced in 
generations. His life and ministry are staked on the belief that 
this bewildered but unquestionably seeking generation is r&- 
vival tinder which, for the kindling of a revival's fire, requires 
only the preaching of an authentically compelling GospeL 

In this, it seems to me, he stands in the Pauline Succession. 
Whatever the Apostle Paul would find missing from today's un- 
precedented interest in and openness to religion, one thing he 
would almost certainly find present: an unprecedented oppor- 
tunity. From having seen in Athens the marks and signs of 
religion Paul went on to preach to the Athenians the sermon 
on Mars Hill: 

"Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto 
you." 

There is such assurance in the preaching of Billy Graham. 
That assurance is rooted in Christian experience, the kind of 
experience which transpired for Paul on the Damascus Road* 

273 



Whether or not Billy Graham proves to be the human instru- 
ment of revival in our time, one thing, I think, is certain: such 
a revival will come from the preaching of no other or no lesser 
Gospel. 



274 



ABOUT THE AUTHOR 

Stanley High was raised in a Methodist parsonage, his father 
serving for many years as a minister of that church in Nebraska 
and Wyoming. After his graduation from Nebraska Wesleyan 
University, service as an Air Force pilot in World War I, and 
a year traveling in China with a study commission of the Meth- 
odist Church, he entered Boston School of Theology. Graduat- 
ing there in 1923, Mr. High was not ordained, but joined 
the staff of The Christian Science Monitor. 

After four years during which, as a correspondent, he 
made several trips abroad Mr. High made a world tour 
for the Methodist Church as assistant secretary of its Board 
of Foreign Missions. From that position he went to the Chris- 
tian Herald as its editor. 

For a number of years, in addition to his editorial work, he 
had a regular radio program, Religion in the News, over the 
NBC network. Beginning in 1937, he was a regular contributor 
to The Saturday Evening Post, his first article in that maga- 
zine resulting in a break with President Roosevelt, of whose 
speech-writing staff Mr. High had been a member during the 
1936 election. He was a member of the staff of Governor 
Thomas E. Dewey in the 1948 Presidential campaign and that 
of General Eisenhower in the campaign of 1952. 

In 1940, Mr. High became a Roving Editor of The Reader's 
Digest and, in 1952, a Senior Editor. His Reader's Digest 
assignments have taken him to many parts of the world, 
and many of his articles have been on religious subjects. It 
was on an assignment from The Reader's Digest that he first 
met Billy Graham, and on subsequent assignments he covered 
his Crusade in various cities in America and abroad.