Chapter 2 The Video Vicarage Prime Time Preachers: The Rising Power of Televangelism | ||
THE ENTERTAINERS
A healthy slice of the electronic church seems to reflect the maxim "If you
can't beat 'em, join 'em." The entertainment formats of television's secular
offerings have been copied in many ways. One of the most obvious copies is the
musical variety show. But the musical entertainment shows of religious
broadcasting draw not only from Hollywood formats; they have successfully wed
Hollywood—or Nashville—to the rousing styles of tent-meeting revival
singers. Mainliners who are accustomed to stately hymns and choral anthems can
find lots of new religious musical styles on TV today.
Jimmy Swaggert
Jimmy Swaggart, cousin of rock musician Jerry Lee Lewis and country-western
guru Mickey Gilley, puts on a rollicking, if not rocking, musical show. Jimmy
belts out good-time, hand clapping gospel songs at the piano and sings with
great feeling. He is backed up by a Nashville-style band, and even a skeptical
viewer is likely to get caught up in the infectious rhythms.
Music has been good to Jimmy. Gold records, symbols of recording success, adorn his office walls, and the sale of Jimmy
Swaggart is a Louisiana moonshiner's son and a high school dropout. But the Assemblies of God are more impressed by commitment than education, and Jimmy is an ordained minister of that church. He supposedly has been speaking in tongues since the age of nine. He does not do so on his program, but he vigorously defends this "baptism of the Holy Spirit" and has lashed out at those who criticize the practice, particularly mainline churches, saying that some of them are dead because they don't have the gift.
Jimmy is an old-fashioned camp-meeting preacher. His sermons are impassioned. He patrols the platform restlessly while speaking, and his intensity may lead him to shout one moment and whisper pleadingly the next. He is urgent because he believes Jesus is coming soon and we may have little time in which to get ready.
His organization owns eight radio stations, and he buys time for his radio program on several hundred more. His TV show is syndicated on 222 TV stations, as well as on many cable systems.
He believes in at least a certain amount of financial disclosure. He claims that his organization was the first, even before Billy Graham's, to offer an audited financial statement to anyone who requests it.
"Gospel Singing Jubilee"
"Gospel Singing Jubilee" has nothing to sell you and won't put you
on a mailing list. The program, which is sponsored by advertisers, is just
another expression of the huge commercial gospel music market—and that
is a big, big market. The million-sellers of gospel music don't get much
attention in the
"Gospel Singing Jubilee" is purely and simply an entertainment program for the gospel-loving subculture—albeit with an occasional light testimony thrown in.
Ross Bagley
Religious television has even spawned a televised deejay show. Plump and
smiling Ross Bagley is the host. Between musical selections Ross relates
anecdotes but always moves rapidly to the next number. Apparently, gospel
recording artists furnish him with videotapes of their latest releases. A
steady parade of tuxedoed, coiffed, and gowned entertainers lip-synch their
way through their hottest-selling songs, in appearances and styles barely
distinguishable from those of secular performers—except for the lyrics
they sing. Commercial minutes in the Ross Bagley show are available to
advertisers.
Chapter 2 The Video Vicarage Prime Time Preachers: The Rising Power of Televangelism | ||