Summons to the "Unknowns"

By Richard N. Ostling

To many Americans, the word evangelist may evoke visions of fashionably clad pulpit orators performing on television in vast halls before thousands of the faithful. There is, however, another category of evangelists, in the U.S. and elsewhere. In the developing nations where Protestantism shows the most vitality, far more often than not they are humble in social status, travel on foot instead of in limousines and preach in huts rather than crystal cathedrals. While their celebrity counterparts hobnob with the rich and powerful, non-Western evangelists often face harassment or imprisonment for proselytizing, even for importing Bibles.

The epitome of the American evangelistic star is the Rev. Billy Graham, 67, now in his fifth decade of traveling revivalism. But Graham has long had a concern for his less celebrated brethren. This month in Amsterdam, he greeted 8,000 preachers invited from all over the world to attend the ten-day International Conference for Itinerant Evangelists, a meeting twice as large as the first such gathering, in 1983. It was a massive $21 million training session, made possible only by the administrative and fund-raising muscle of Graham's organization.

Graham had directed his people to seek out "the unknown young preachers, the barefoot preachers, who go from village to village, preaching and teaching." The widespread search was remarkably successful. Most of those who arrived in Amsterdam were clad in Western-style suits and sport shirts, some in tribal costumes, and they sang and spoke in a Babel of tongues. (Plenary meetings were simultaneously translated into 14 languages.)

The attendees were selected from among some 50,000 evangelists. Global sweep was one of Graham's goals, and it was attained: 185 nations and territories were represented; 80% of the preachers came from developing countries. In Nigeria, for example, organizers had tried to recruit at least one evangelist from each of that huge (pop. 105 million) nation's 137 major tribes, but in the end were able to cover only 136. Said one Graham organizer: "We looked hard for an evangelist from the last tribe, but we just couldn't find one." The throng included members of every sort of Protestant and Anglican denomination, and even a handful from Eastern Orthodox churches.

The elaborate conference was designed to "train, equip and encourage" others who, like Graham, travel to spread the Christian message. North Americans and Europeans provided the majority of the instruction but cheerfully performed the routine chores as well, ushering and operating the weapon scanners that are now fixtures at large European gatherings. How-to workshops offered tips on everything from prison projects to street preaching to the use of drama, with continual emphasis upon methods that would be practical, efficient and inexpensive.

In the exhibit hall, 55 suppliers discreetly displayed their publications, a bewildering array of Bible translations and the latest wares for the compleat modern missioner. While television is the engine of U.S. evangelism, it is of no use to most of these frontier workers. A hand-cranked cassette tape player was the favorite gadget for preachers who cannot afford batteries and operate in areas that lack electricity.

To ease the evangelists' economic burdens, a group called Samaritan's Purse, operated by Graham's son Franklin, allotted two shirts, a tie, a pair of socks and tennis shoes for each male attendee (only 500 women participated). "I've been praying for some shoes," said one delighted visitor. Seven tons of donated clothing were also provided to be taken home to wives and children.

The evangelists in attendance exuded simple and unshakable faith. "The hand of God protected me," said Pastor Krisnapillai Saravanapavan of Sri Lanka, recalling his banishment from his hometown and family after he converted from Hinduism to Christianity. After mission travels in Sri Lanka and India, he plans to return to his village because "that is where my call is." Christians currently constitute about 8% of Sri Lanka's population of 17 million; the growth of the faith, Saravanapavan believes, could have a positive impact on a nation suffering bloody division between Buddhist Sinhalese and his own minority of Hindu Tamils. "The Christians come from all communities in Sri Lanka," he said. "Only the Prince of Peace can unite my country."

Another participant, John Barnabas Gibbons, is an Assemblies of God evangelist who works in Ghana with policemen and soldiers. In many African nations, such men are despised because of their association with torture and murder under revolving-door dictatorships. Gibbons wants to overcome their alienation and believes that "by bringing the men of government to Christ, we can change the political and social life of the country. After all, Jesus only took twelve men to turn the world upside down."

Graham spoke three times but soft-pedaled his presence in favor of other speakers. He took quiet pride in the spiritual strength of his young colleagues. With schooling of only six years on average, "they aren't educated," he said, "but they know the Bible." And they will ensure that evangelism remains vigorous. Their average age is 31, and many will be toiling in distant places long after Graham is gone.

With reporting by B.J. Phillips/ Amsterdam