Upon Unearthing Billy Graham’s Dr. Gary Straub. Meadow @ St Matthews.
“It would disturb me if there was a Wedding between the religious fundamentalists and the political right.
The Hard Right has NO interes in religion except to manipulate.” Billy Graham
True words, Billy. Guess nobody told him about the’16 Election Wedding! It was an UNcivil ceremony led by pontificating preachers seizing their 60 seconds of TV fame. No sober objections to the union were offered at the altar. No ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’! Peace was held. No articulations of reservations! When this Unholy Union was blessed by his only son Franklin, Billy rolled over in his grave. (A full flip & turn, I’m told). Billy was not merely ‘disquieted…’ his Eternal Rest was ontologically disturbed. I hate that Franklin’s uber— fundamentalism pressured him to pull out his Billy Graham badge just to score a few political points.
We all witnessed with chagrin Franklin’s TV bromance with #45. I cringed as Franklin tangoed down the Garden Path, dancing on his father’s grave.Grateful that Rev. Ann Lotz Graham’s integrity called her to step up as ‘the other’ family spokesperson. Sometimes, human chutzpah feeds our delusions while pride twists our truths against us. Meanwhile, Franklin hard-charges into the Valley of the Shadow singing: “Lord, we are able!”? Hooo Dawgies! Big Yikes! Franklin’s public flub kinda brings to mind an old No.Carolina proverb: “Well, could be, maybe his cornbread ain’t done in the middle!”
I reckon all our favorite temptations are variations of the Seven Deadly. Our poor choices get genetically matched to our personal vulnerabilities. Kinda like custom-fitted temptations. Whatever the etiology, it gives me pause to see Franklin suckered in…. snookered—hook, line and sinker. Here’s a famous evangelical leader turning fundy while a nation is strangely turned away from him. Double bad juju. Franklin’s lack of discretion or discernment clearly puts his reputation and ministry work in jeopardy!
Let’s pause here for a deep breath & a twinge of transcendental hesitation for Franklin’s flub. Don’t we all select our favorite brand of Teabag in which to steep our temptations? Our finitude inclines us to favor certain flavors of faults, flaws, frailties and foibles. We barely notice, until the tingle, jingle, jangle and dangle finally descends us into a godaweful wrangle. We’re done! Back to Billy. Recall his inglorious political power trip which tripped him up in the Nixon era? As Billy sat before the Resolute Desk, his racial equity dissolved into ugly silent agreement w/ Nixon’s racial rants. Billy nodded when he needed to frown. To his rarely reported credit, during his Crusade in Chattanooga, the locals still tell how Billy personally tore down every segregated seating sign in Engel Stadium. Dark moments do get redeemed. Am I being a tad too hard on Franklin? Nah! He knows better than to channel Jerry Falwell! Forgiving Franklin does not mean forgoing a public calling out. Perhaps you’ve noticed Franklin’s recent proliferation of national network 60 second “Get Saved” commercials. Is this Franklin’s attempt to cancel the Wedding Billy tried to warn us about? Is this a 60 second salvation some sort of penance for his faltering feet along the come-back trail?
Here’s what I’m learning about my own bigotry… the primordial ooze into which I too often sink while pointing out other’s wallowing? That’s clay… as in… “feet of clay.”