To Be of Influence

The news spread quickly last week: The Reverend Billy Graham had died. The New York Times headlined their obituary, “Billy Graham, 99, Dies; Pastor Filled Stadiums and Counseled Presidents.” Born and raised on a dairy farm in North Carolina, Graham grew up to travel the world, preaching the gospel to millions and becoming an iconic twentieth century public figure.

 

As a young man, Graham was nearly expelled from Bob Jones College, and Jones’ warning proved prophetic: “At best, all you could amount to would be a poor country Baptist preacher somewhere out in the sticks . . . You have a voice that pulls. God can use that voice of yours. He can use it mightily.”

 

In his years of active ministry, God used that voice mightily. Whether viewed from the top row at a sports stadium or on a home television screen, it is estimated that 3.2 million people responded to Graham’s message over the course of his ministry, and his lifetime audience topped 2.2 billion people.

 

Graham was known for his willingness to use modern technology, moving from radio broadcasts to the early days of television, and utilizing satellite coverage to extend his reach around the world. We can only imagine how he would have responded to the opportunities provided by social media, had he been well enough to take full advantage of that medium. However, it’s highly unlikely that, as some reported, “Just hours before his death, Billy Graham makes one final post to social media.” Might someone have posted to his Facebook page? Of course. Did Billy Graham reach for his phone from his deathbed? Probably not.

 

Many have personal stories to tell of Graham, of singing in the mass choir, of working with other pastors to welcome Graham’s crusade to their city, or of responding to his oft-repeated song of invitation. “Just as I am without one plea . . . I come, I come.” We may not have met him in person, but we knew him.

 

I knew of his crusades and his personal relationship with U.S. presidents from Truman to Obama, but I didn’t know that he was instrumental in the development of the International Congress on World Evangelization (known as Lausanne) with John Stott, or in the publication of Christianity Today. I also didn’t know that in the early 1950s, Graham was determined to end segregation in his crusade audiences, and he tore down the ropes at a Chattanooga crusade, telling two ushers to leave the barriers down “or else you can go on and have the revival without me.” As if Graham needed a claim to fame, he even bailed Martin Luther King, Jr. out of jail.

A perfect man? He would not make that claim. But as Paul Prather suggests, “when he messed up, he admitted it, accepted responsibility and made amends.” As Graham told Newsweek in an interview in 2006 (at age 87), “Much of my life has been a pilgrimage – constantly learning, changing, growing and maturing.”

Will there ever again be a man or woman of such influence? A “no” answer to that question is probably more reflective of the cultural changes that occurred over Graham’s lifetime than of the character, ability, or anointing of a man or a woman in the twenty-first century. The hundreds of cable channels are only one indication of how segmented our society has become, and it is hard to imagine one person being able to appeal across so many cultural divides.

 

Yet what is influence? Graham himself said, “The greatest legacy one can pass on to one’s children and grandchildren is not money or other material things accumulated in one’s life, but rather a legacy of character and faith.”

As for the question of our own influence, we may never rub shoulders with kings and queens, or be invited to pray with popes or presidents. But Parker Palmer’s words provide needed perspective for me: “In the midst of a world where everything needs to be done right now, we can be famous for never forgetting what we can do — refusing to be overwhelmed but persistently making our small and yet vital contribution to the common good.”

R.I.P., Billy.