'Televangelists rise from ashes of 80's scandals.'
by
David Grand
November 21, 2007
That's the title of an article in the Seattle Times, which points out the virtually identical message today's televangelists are telling the faithful, as their counterparts did in the 80's: to give, give, give until you can't give anymore.
Whether the current batch of self-anointed agents of God will also be exposed as charlatans and money grubbers, feasting on the gullibility of their followers, may well be determined by what comes out of the investigation launched by Sen. Charles Grassley (ranking Republican on the Senate Finance Committee) of the top six televangelist ministries for "possible financial misconduct." They are: Benny Hinn, Joyce Meyer, Kenneth Copeland, Paula White, Eddie Long and Creflo Dollar.
When I think about the past and present imitators of Elmer Gantry, it is with sadness over the way they're able to delude people into believing, that by making "seed-faith offerings" they will reap bountiful rewards. My answer: If this scam worked as advertised, they'd be sending them money, not asking for it.
Among those I've observed over the years to be as colorful as they were deceitful are: Ernest Angely, Oral Roberts, Jim and Tammy Bakker, Benny Hinn and Jimmy Swaggert. Here's a snapshot of my impressions of them:
- Angely. Poor stage presence and delivery. Has changed his wigs more often than a mannequin's wig is in a storefront display window. And the healing powers he claims to possess even extends to the supposed healing of those watching at home, if they just put their hand against his on the screen. I only touch it when dusting.
- Roberts. Old curmudgeon who has trouble standing erect and mutters a lot. And is not above trying to hoodwink his listeners, like when he announced to his flock that the Lord was going to "call him home," if they don't send him $8 million dollars, post haste. He vowed to remain secluded in the church tower until the money arrived. I remember sending in a dollar for him to stay there.
- Bakkers. Of the two, Tammy was the star of the show, with Jimmy in a supporting role. She never bungled a line, even when her tears caused the thick mascara she had on to roll down her cheeks like a summer rain. And hearing her sing was like listening to a canary with inflamed vocal cords.
- Hinn. Always radiating confidence and dressed in white to match his hair. A world renown faith healer who welcomes challenges to his "God-given" ability. A "Dateline" segment on NBC, however, examined a dozen or so of Hinn's faith-healing "miracles" and found that none of them were cured. And how he got the name Benny, when he was born in Israel with the name Toufik Benedictun Hinn is puzzling to say the least. Though Toufik Hinn would sound funny and turn off a lot of his viewers.
- Swaggert. Outstanding speaking voice and great showman. But had serious character flaws, as was shown by his onscreen attacks against fellow evangelists Marvin Gorman and Jimmy Bakker for their extramarital affairs, when in the same timeframe he was guilty of his own adulterous conduct with a prostitute. Isn't there a passage in the bible somewhere about throwing stones at others?
Pardon me for ending on a cynical note, but I seriously doubt, that no matter how overwhelming the evidence of financial hanky-panky on the part of those brought before Sen. Grassley's committee may be, that afterwards they'll still be riding in a Rolls-Royce, wearing Rolex watches, living a lavish life style and with their congregations as large and loyal as ever. Hope I'm wrong.
