Trailer Evangelists

One June day last year, two Mennonite lay missionaries set out from their homes in Virginia as traveling evangelists. Lawrence Brunk and his brother George, a professor of Bible studies at Eastern Mennonite College in Harrisonburg, Va., had pooled their resources (mainly $35,000 which Lawrence had made on his chicken farm). They bought a tent big enough to seat 1,500 people, a truck to carry it and a trailer for Lawrence, his wife and three children to live in.

This week, after 14 months of evangelizing through the U.S. and Canada, the Brunks are preaching the word in Goshen, Ind., to crowds of nearly 3,000 a night. At their previous stop, Waterloo, Ont., attendance was even larger: 105,000 during four weeks of steady preaching (including 1,500 who made formal "decisions for Christ"). Local Canadian pastors were so pleased with the results that some canceled their own services to let their congregations hear the Brunks preach.

Elect for Christ. The Brunk brothers have been having that kind of success almost from the day they started. Neither had ever done much preaching, but both had been thinking hard about it. And they were sure that their audiences would not forget them easily: George, 40, weighs 240 Ibs. and stands 6 ft. 4 1/2 in.; Lawrence, five years younger, is an inch taller and weighs 200 Ibs.

At their first meeting in Lancaster, Pa., Lawrence led the singing and George gave his maiden sermon, a vigorous appeal to elect for Christ and escape damnation, a topic which Mennonites have always stressed. The first night more than 2,000 jammed their way into the tent. Dozens were converted. Before the week was out, the Brunks had to order a new tent.

As they moved on through Pennsylvania, Ohio, Tennessee and Florida, their crowds grew in size, and so did their equipment. When George's family joined Lawrence's on the road, the Brunk caravan swelled to three trailers and two more tents, the largest built to shelter 6,000. They also bought a small airplane which George pilots to reconnoiter future camp sites.

Finances were no problem. As George Brunk explained, "There are plenty of moneymen everywhere we've been who want to see our work go on." Preaching seven times a week, they give their audiences a combination of good hymn singing and long, satisfying sermons ("We do not preach sermonettes"). Said Preacher George, "We preach a fundamental brand of religion, but we aren't fundamentalists. We aren't modernists, either. You don't have to be one or the other."

One Will Be Taken ... At their last big service in Waterloo, Lawrence, as usual, led the congregation in a series of old-time hymns, interspersed with short, humorous monologues. After the tent was filled, George got up to preach, wearing no tie and a suit with no lapels (in accord with old Mennonite custom). By the time he wound up his hour-long sermon, the audience had caught his enthusiasm.

"On the resurrection day," he shouted warningly, "the graves will open, and all the saved will move right up into heaven. On that day, the Bible says, two shall be grinding grain. One will be taken and one will be . . ."

". . . left!" chorused his listeners.

"Two shall be in bed together, and one shall be taken and one shall be . . ."

". . . left!" roared the congregation again.

After the meeting, in answer to George's appeal, a straggling row of converts walked up the center aisle. By midnight the

Brunk brothers, helped by a 100-man volunteer crew, had packed their tents and other equipment into their trailers and a huge van. Then they headed their caravan for the next stand.

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