University of Virginia Library

Acknowledgments

It would be impossible to undertake a project of the nature and scope of this one without incurring more debts than one can even begin to acknowledge. We set out to understand the "electronic church," which most people think of as only the syndicated television programs, in the much broader context of religious broadcasting. To achieve that goal, we needed to look at both the history of religious radio and TV broadcasting and the wide variety of its programming and messages.

Before we got very far into the research, it became obvious that we could not properly understand the electronic church if we restricted ourselves to the radio and television broadcasts themselves. The computers that spit out direct mail at lightning speed, the telephone banks that serve to receive pledges as well as offer counsel and prayer to listeners, the cassettes, records, newsletters, and magazines that are available to faithful viewers—these are all integral components of the electronic churches.

Our efforts resulted in spending many hours in front of the TV set. Some days it seemed as though one more program would certainly result in an overdose, but we managed to come back for more. We also spent a lot of time analyzing the direct mail and comparing it with that of other organizations and corporations. But it's not possible to come fully to grips with this broadcasting phenomenon in the comfort of one's living room or study. We spent weeks away from home so that we could gain firsthand knowledge of the electronic churches' operations. To be sure, there are similarities among them, but anyone who says that when you've seen one electronic church operation you've seen them all either hasn't been there or hasn't looked very carefully. One also needs to talk to many people in a lot of sectors of society and in a variety of capacities of religious leadership to grasp why the

phenomenon of religious broadcasting has suddenly become so important.

In one sense, our greatest debts are to the people in religious broadcasting who took the time to help us understand what they are all about. In another sense—and we felt this early—it is the audiences of the religious programs who are really the most interesting subjects of all. If people didn't watch, and some of them send in contributions, there wouldn't be an electronic church as it exists today.

Some of our most interesting insights about the electronic churches came from people we encountered en route to interviews. The piles of magazine articles and newspaper clips in our laps almost always betrayed our interest to people who sat beside us on airplanes. We soon discovered that there is hardly anyone in America who doesn't have an opinion about the television preachers, and most people are more than willing to share their views. Their volunteered words of praise or damnation of the televangelists provided invaluable clues of what to look for and what questions to ask. To all those anonymous persons, to casual acquaintances, to old friends and new, go our thanks.

William Fore, assistant general secretary for communication of the National Council of Churches, deserves a special word of thanks for both encouraging and providing the opportunity for us to pursue the research reported here. So also do we owe a significant debt to Ben Armstrong, executive director of the National Religious Broadcasters, for his encouragement as well as his personal hand in opening doors to some of the major religious broadcasters. We came along about the time many religious broadcasters were the targets of critical press, and some, understandably, were hesitant to risk putting their heads on the chopping block again. Armstrong's assurances of our integrity and intentions to produce a balanced and objective account of religious broadcasting no doubt made the difference between getting in and not getting in on several occasions. Without the help of these two men, this project might not have gotten off the ground. The information we obtained is richer than it might otherwise have been without their help.

The personalities who appear on the religious television programs are only the visible portion of the vast organizations

they head. We are indebted to those television program leaders who found time in their schedules to talk with us, but an even greater debt is due to the dozens of people on their staffs who answered probing questions and gave generously of their time to help us understand how the electronic churches work. No less important are the insights we gained from church leaders, elected public officials and their staffs, scholars, and journalists who have been covering this story.

Our thanks to the Arbitron Company for permission to publish their audience data on the syndicated religious programs. To the best of our knowledge, this is the first time such data have been published for general consumption. Connie Anthes, manager of Arbitron's communications, made available the organization's resources and graciously helped us understand the company's data-collection procedures. Rachelle Cagner, her very able assistant, patiently helped us locate materials in Arbitron's library and then cheerfully tolerated our presence under her feet while we reproduced vast amounts of material.

Charles Swann wishes to express special thanks to Fred R. Stair, president of Union Theological Seminary in Virginia, who encouraged him to write this book; and to his colleagues at WRFK-FM who never told Fred Stair how many days they had to do Swann's work as well as their own.

I would like to express my deep gratitude to T George Harris. He is widely acknowledged as one of the premier investigative reporters and editors of this country, but few persons have had the opportunity to learn that he is also a great teacher. My gratitude for his interest and counsel on this project from its onset is enormous. More than a dozen years ago, when I was beginning to try to translate sociological jargon into understandable English prose, Harris taught me one of the most important things anyone can know—clarity in communication is requisite to clarity of thought.

I also owe a tremendous debt to Dr. Ralph Ingersoll, associate dean, Baylor College of Medicine in Houston. Ingersoll invited me to spend my sabbatical year at Baylor to finish a book manuscript on medical students and to explore a variety of research possibilities. The idea of studying the electronic church had emerged only a few weeks before my arrival in Texas. When

it became apparent that that project was seriously interfering with the medical research possibilities, Ingersoll was more than tolerant of the bind I had worked myself into. He not only encouraged me to turn my full attention to the electronic church project; he provided support for the research as well. So also did I receive support and encouragement from Associate Dean David Mumford.

Upon my return to the University of Virginia, my department chairperson, Jeanne Biggar, provided verbal support for completion of the manuscript as well as tolerance and understanding of my tardiness and neglect of department duties.

Few manuscripts come to fruition without clerical support. In addition to preparation of the manuscript, many hours of interviews had to be transcribed. We express our sincere appreciation to Ruth Malouin, Joycelyn Smith, and Jackie Russell for putting up with both the tedium of the clerical work and, occasionally, a grumpy boss as well. Thanks also to Kate Bonan, an undergraduate at the University of Virginia, for clerical assistance in analyzing the audience data.

Finally, we would like to thank our editors, Doe Coover and Barbara Wood. We hope our occasional pigheadedness had a net positive effect on the substance of the manuscript. We have no doubts that their occasional insistence on doing things their way contributed immeasurably to its clarity.