by Billy Graham
Except in emergencies, we never let a day go by but we had Bible reading and prayer. As the children got older, we asked them to participate. When I was home, I went up to tuck them in and to pray with them. Sometimes Ruth would stay up till one or two o’clock if one of them wanted to talk. Some of the greatest conversations I’ve had with any of my children have been late at night.
At other times, I remember taking a child out into the woods for some time alone. We would sit on a log or a rock and just talk. Many Sundays when I was home, I would take Franklin up to a special spot on top of the mountain, where we would spend time together.
Today we have our prayer in the evening with whoever is in the home. We also read a short passage of Scripture. Ruth wisely says late at night is not the time for long readings.
None of our children live in Montreat now. Some live only a couple of hours away, some thousands of miles away, but all seem to enjoy coming back to the home place when they can. When Ruth and I pray together each night for our children, our grandchildren, and now for our great-grandchildren, our focus on God puts us right next to them anywhere in the world, praying for each other and for us.
Ruth and I thought that when the children were grown, we would be at the end of our parental responsibilities. We could just sit back and enjoy the grandchildren and great-grandchildren. But we’ve discovered that their concerns and burdens are also ours. Like their parents before them, they look to the older generation for advice, counsel, and help. The same principles and promises we applied to our children are still true for our grandchildren and great-grandchildren. We pray for each one each day and spend hours each week on the telephone with them.
Watching our children’s children (and their children) growing up reawakens in Ruth and me both delightful memories of our own early years and concerns about how we raised the little ones God gave to us. Without question, the regrets are greatly outnumbered by the delights. The mistakes we did make were not fatal, and we both thank the Lord for that. And that bolsters our faith that He will do the same for the generations coming after us.
41
A Decade of Grace
1997–2007
Ruth and I never thought we would live this long.
By God’s grace we have, however, and as I write these words eighty-eight years have gone by since my birth in 1918. Ten years also have passed since the original publication of these memoirs, and more than ever we have learned to accept the gift of each day with thanksgiving. Although these haven’t always been easy years, we have discovered that God’s goodness and mercy never fail, no matter what life brings our way. We have discovered too that as we grow older God still has lessons to teach us, and we can trust Him in every situation. In the midst of the ups and downs of old age, the vows Ruth and I took on our wedding day over sixty-three years ago have taken on new meaning: “In plenty and in want; In joy and in sorrow; In sickness and in health; As long as we both shall live.”
At the same time, as I reviewed these last ten years while preparing to write this chapter I found myself filled mostly with gratitude—gratitude for the evidences we have seen of God’s grace, and gratitude also for the opportunities He has given us during these years to continue serving Him.
As the years passed I began asking God to make clear to me when my Crusade ministry should come to an end. God’s work is not dependent on any one person, I knew, and some day it would be time for me to step aside as God raised up others to carry the Gospel to another generation. On one hand, I didn’t want to finish my ministry before God wanted it to end—but on the other hand, neither did I want to hold on to it too long. I had seen others who kept clinging to their ministries long after they should have retired, and I didn’t want to be one of them. Nor did I want to end up being an embarrassment to the cause of Christ—having to have someone take me by the arm, for example, and lead me off the platform because I didn’t know what I was saying. I knew my life was in God’s hands, and that He could take me to Himself even while I was standing in the pulpit. But I also knew He might not choose to end my Crusade ministry this way, and I wanted to be sensitive to His timing.
Somewhat to my amusement, in almost every Crusade we held after I passed the age of seventy-five, at least one reporter would speculate on whether this particular Crusade was going to be our last. And yet in Crusade after Crusade God seemed to confirm that that time had not yet arrived. One of the biggest surprises was the number of young people who came to the Crusade meetings—sometimes over half the audience, many of whom responded to the invitation to receive Christ. As my physical strength declined I saw renewed evidence of something I had always believed: the Gospel message carries within it its own spiritual power—a power quite independent of the strength or eloquence of the messenger. Repeatedly I found myself recalling the Lord’s promise to Paul: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). To conserve my strength we cut the Crusades down to four days, and finally three. I also limited my outside engagements during Crusades, no longer speaking to groups like civic clubs or ministers, for example. To preserve my strength I also began turning down other invitations I might have accepted in my younger days.
Between 1998 and 2005 we had no less than a dozen and a half Crusades. A few were in somewhat smaller cities, such as Fresno and Louisville; others reached out to some of our largest and most strategic metropolitan areas, including San Diego, Dallas, Ottawa (Canada), and St. Louis. One Crusade, the Bay Area Crusade (1997), actually consisted of a cluster of meetings over a period of about a month, with separate venues in San Jose, San Francisco, and Oakland.
One of the most memorable evangelistic events for me personally during this period was in Albuquerque (1998), at which my son Franklin preached the first two nights and I spoke for the last two meetings. It reconfirmed in my own mind that God’s hand was on Franklin in an unmistakable way, and that he was uniquely gifted to reach a new generation with the message of the Gospel. Since then Franklin has kept a busy pace, accepting invitations for evangelistic Crusades (which he calls “Festivals”) in dozens of major cities in the United States and around the world. I believe that his clear proclamation of Christ as the only way of salvation coupled with his compassionate outreach to those in need through the ministry of Samaritan’s Purse have made him an effective messenger of the Gospel in this generation.
In 2000 the board of the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association appointed him chief executive officer, and a year later elected him president, with me assuming the role of chairman. His election not only assures a smooth transition as BGEA faces the future, but his vision and leadership—already evident in his role as president of Samaritan’s Purse—are helping our organization set a steady course for the future. One of Franklin’s first responsibilities was overseeing the move of BGEA’s headquarters from Minneapolis to Charlotte. Our office facilities in Minneapolis had grown increasingly cramped, and when the opportunity arose for us to obtain sixty-three acres of undeveloped land near the Charlotte airport our Board sensed God was leading us to make the move. We broke ground for our new headquarters building in October 2002, and by the end of 2003 the transition was almost complete. In May 2007, a second building was completed, housing a museum and archival displays dedicated to our ministry. Our hope is that the museum will be a continuing Crusade, with visitors not only learning about our ministry but coming face-to-face with the claims of Christ.
Two Crusades in particular stand out in my memory among those dozen and a half we held during the last decade. The reason is because they served almost as “bookends” to our Crusade ministry. The first was the 2004 Greater Los Angeles Crusade, held in the famed Rose Bowl. As I noted earlier, it was in Los Angeles that our Crusade ministry first came to public attention (in 1949). I have held several Crusades there since then and had hoped to return one last time to that dynamic part of the country. Los Angeles had changed in the fifty-five years since those first meetings, with large n
ew immigrant communities from almost every corner of the globe and numerous so-called mega-churches (a word that hadn’t even been invented in 1949). One thing had not changed, however, and that was the spiritual hunger of the thousands who came to the meetings and made their commitment to Christ.
The other “bookend” was the Greater New York Crusade, held June 24–26, 2005, in Flushing Meadows Corona Park (the site of the 1964–65 New York World’s Fair and the location of the United Nations during the first five years of its existence). If the 1949 Los Angeles Crusade marked the beginning of our extended Crusade ministry, the 1957 New York Crusade marked its most extensive outreach, lasting sixteen weeks at Madison Square Garden and making an impact for the Gospel not only on the New York metropolitan area but on the entire nation through radio and television. Now, almost half a century later, we accepted the invitation of some 1,400 churches representing over 90 denominations to hold an evangelistic Crusade in the New York City area—our eighth over the years. After much prayer and thought, I let it be known that I expected this to be the last full Crusade of my ministry.
Like Los Angeles, New York had changed since our first Crusade there. Always a magnet for immigrants, by 2005 New York had become perhaps the most diverse city in the world; I was told that within walking distance of Corona Park people speaking 130 languages could be found. Spiritually the city was different also, now home not only to a number of historic churches but to some of America’s most creative and fastest-growing congregations. The memory of the 9/11 attacks on the World Trade Center still haunted the city, causing many (I sensed) to reevaluate their own lives and seek answers to the deepest questions of the human spirit. Although we held only three meetings this time, almost a quarter of a million people braved an unexpected heat wave to attend. I deeply appreciated the sympathetic interest of the media.
In some ways this final Crusade was an emotional time for me—although in other ways I had a deep sense of peace. A number of family members came for the meetings (even some of our great-grandchildren), as well as a number of old friends (only some of whom I was able to see). The mayor of New York, Michael Bloomberg, welcomed us warmly, as did New York’s two senators, Charles Schumer and Hillary Rodham Clinton (along with her husband, Bill). At my side were my longtime Team members Cliff Barrows and George Beverly Shea, and I couldn’t help but be moved once again by their faithfulness to Christ and their commitment to our work for over half a century. Our ministry throughout all these years would not have been possible without the efforts of an entire team. I want to emphasize again that although my name has been so prominent (much to my dismay), this has been a partnership, with Cliff especially, and so many others who have stood side by side with Ruth and me since the very beginning. What a remarkable Team God had given me over the years! As I looked over the crowd that last Sunday, I silently thanked God for the privilege He had given me of proclaiming the Good News of Jesus Christ for over six decades.
New York was my final Crusade, but I continue speaking or preaching from time to time as God gives me strength. In July 2006, I spoke on the final day of Franklin’s Festival in Baltimore. Earlier that year (in March) Franklin and I had joined hands to visit and preach in hurricane-ravaged New Orleans. Samaritan’s Purse had been one of the very first organizations to rush assistance to the Gulf Coast after Hurricane Katrina struck, and both BGEA and Samaritan’s Purse had continued bringing aid and comfort to the survivors. As we toured the city (particularly the devastated Ninth Ward), I realized that no amount of television coverage could fully convey the appalling destruction that historic city had suffered. Most remarkable, however, were the stories we heard of the courage and determination of so many of the survivors in the face of such daunting odds. I was especially moved by some of the pastors we met, who told of losing everything and yet staying on because they believed God was calling them to do what they could to rebuild their communities and minister to their scattered flocks.
While the Crusades have always dominated my schedule, other kinds of events have given me opportunities to express my faith—sometimes in unusual contexts. One memorable occasion during the past decade was what is known as the TED Conference (“TED” standing for Technology, Entertainment and Design). It is an annual invitation-only event that brings together some of the most creative and entrepreneurial people in the nation to talk about the future from their perspective. I was apparently the first person they had ever invited to speak from a religious perspective, and admittedly I couldn’t help but feel a bit like a fish out of water. In fact, I almost didn’t accept the invitation, wondering what I could possibly contribute to such an intellectual gathering. But finally I accepted—and one reason, frankly, was because I was curious to learn what insights these cutting-edge leaders might be able to give me about the future. We live in a rapidly changing world, and I have always believed that Christians should make use of every new means God gives us for extending the message of the Gospel.
After much prayer I decided to speak from Psalm 23 on the spiritual questions that science and technology cannot answer. I pointed out that David, the author of that Psalm, lived in an age not unlike our own—a time of rapid technical and economic change, brought about in his case by the introduction of iron. And yet he discovered that only God can give us the answers to humanity’s most basic questions: Who are we? Where did we come from? Why are we here? How should we live? Where are we going when we die? The attendees could not have been kinder, and in our private conversations I found great interest in the themes I had tried to share. One person I met at the TED Conference was Steve Case, the founder of America Online, who later committed his life to Christ and has become a good friend.
Several other events of a different order deserve mention. The first was the decision in 2001 of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II to grant me the title of Honorary Knight Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire. I was especially humbled by this distinction—which I felt I did not deserve, although I have always had a great love for the British people and many of our most memorable Crusades had taken place there. Shortly before Christmas the British ambassador in Washington, Sir Christopher Meyer, bestowed the award on me at a black-tie dinner at the embassy, kindly including a number of friends and family in the occasion. Among them were John Pollock and his wife, Anne, from England; John is a gifted writer who has devoted much of his life to chronicling our ministry.
A second event was the privilege of meeting Chinese president Jiang Zemin in Los Angeles, at the conclusion of his 1997 state visit to America. He had asked to meet me, apparently to thank me for my interest in the Chinese people—an interest, I was quick to point out, that had been stimulated by Ruth’s childhood years in China. Our son Ned was with me, and President Jiang seemed interested in the work that Ned’s organization, East Gates Ministries International, was doing to supply Bibles to the Christians of China. While the president clearly possessed a strong personality, he could not have been more cordial, and I assured him that Ruth and I prayed regularly for his country and its people.
Ruth and I will never forget another person who came to visit us in 2002: the Irish rock musician Bono—arguably one of the best-known celebrities on the planet. In recent years Bono had become more and more vocal about his Christian faith, and we spent a delightful afternoon learning about his background and also hearing of his burden for those in less-developed parts of the world who live under the crushing weight of poverty and debt. He spoke warmly of the work Samaritan’s Purse was doing in Africa to combat the AIDS pandemic, and told of his determination to use his influence to draw world attention to this terrible crisis. On the way to our home, Bono composed a poem for us on the spur of the moment—a vivid illustration of his creativity. Bono’s visit reminded us both that God uses all kinds of people to get His work done in the world, a fact for which I’m very grateful.
Growing old, I’ve discovered, has both its joys and its sorrows.
Among the joys has been watch
ing our family grow and develop, particularly as our grandchildren become older and great-grandchildren come along (twenty-nine at the time of this writing). Each has his or her own personality, and each also faces the usual problems and issues of any young person their age. We are thankful for each one of them, and Ruth and I pray for them regularly. At times it seems like the clock has been turned back forty or fifty years, with our old log cabin reverberating to the sounds of children racing through the halls or playing games at the top of their voices.
We also are thankful as we’ve watched our grandchildren grow in their commitment to Christ (occasionally only after years of struggle). Some even have felt led of God to go into some type of ministry. Franklin’s oldest son, Will, for example, has been a pastor and is now preaching in evangelistic Crusades (which he calls “Celebrations”) of his own. One of Gigi’s sons is pastor of a church in south Florida, while the husband of one of her daughters is on the pastoral staff of a dynamic church in South Carolina. Others are seeking to serve God by raising their families or being active in business or involved in other types of work—all part of God’s plan for their lives. Ruth and I think often of the Bible’s words in Proverbs 17:6: “Children’s children are a crown to the aged, and parents are the pride of their children.”
But old age also has its sorrows. One of the greatest is the sadness of saying good-bye with increasing frequency during the past decade to those who have meant so much to us over the years, but now have been taken from us by death. Some were members of our Team who played an important part in our ministry, and whose faithful service already has been recorded in these pages: T.W. Wilson, George Wilson, Walter Smyth, Roy Gustafson, Bob Williams, Alexander Haraszti, and many others whose service wasn’t always as visible but was nevertheless indispensable to our work. Others were individuals—too numerous to mention—whose friendship and encouragement helped us more than they ever realized. Each one had touched our lives, and each one would be greatly missed.