Topeka Capital Journal
February 24, 1988

Jimmy Swaggart isn’t the biggest sinner of his time; he’s just the most visible, and he has television to thank, or blame, for that.

He built a “television ministry” that caused him to be seen and heard all over this nation and much of the world. It was hard to miss him.

He set himself up as a prime target and then was done in when another preacher, who was after revenge, tracked down his indiscretions and then ran to church authorities with the scandal.

Swaggart isn’t even alone in his misery. Not that he’ll get much comfort from it, but on the same cable newscast that nailed him there were stories of two more ministers who had been caught up in sexual adventures, some much more serious than anything Swaggart had done.

But the sweet-singing, foot-stomping, Bible-waving pride of Baton Rouge is in the spotlight of scandal all alone. Just as he had no equal when he was singing to sinners, whispering to them or screaming his lungs out at them, so it is with his problems.

It’s not the size of the sin; It’s the size, TV-wise, of the sinner. He easily outBakkered Jim and Tammy Faye, and the irony, or maybe poetic justice, of it is that he was one of the first to put thumbs down on them when they had their troubles.

At the time, he even ridiculed them. He was on television, saying in his smug way that he wasn’t in the hotel business, he wasn’t in the theme park business, and he wasn’t in the water slide business. He said he was in the business of preaching the gospel.

Some business. It is reported that he rakes in around $140 million annually, lives on a 15-acre estate and enjoys chauffeured limos and a private jet. He would say that God has blessed him and been good to him.

Maybe so, but so have millions of people who heard his pleas to help keep his struggling ministry alive and sent him checks on a regular basis. They kept him on the air, and also enabled him to maintain a lifestyle that benefits the rich and famous.

But when he fell, he fell so hard he splattered, and again, it was more the result of who he was than what he did. There are even those who will say he asked for it.

Last Sunday evening, he was seen on the networks, in his church, confessing and asking forgiveness. He seemed sincere, and well he should be, considering the size of the sweet deal he blew by straying from the straight and narrow. You’d cry, too, if you’d fouled up a multi-million bonanza.

But on the morning of the same day, his taped shows were airing, and it was a different story. He was there, with his serious face on, talking matter of factly into the camera and pleading for money.

He was talking about expenses of $200,000 to $500,000 per day, and saying it adds up fast, and that the entire operation was in jeopardy. He asked for help, and you’d better believe he would have gotten it.

Also on Sunday morning, when he was on stage, preaching and performing, he was saying he was the son of sharecroppers, and that his mother had to chop cotton all the time she was carrying him, right up to the day of his birth.

He’s both a great actor and elocutionist, and his style on the stage added great impact to his words. He was so good you could almost see his mama, great with child, out there in the hot sun, chopping cotton.

When he finished, he was applauded, as he always is when he preaches. It amounted to an Abe Lincoln story from the pulpit, and it was a winner. But it also was another part of the process that set him up as the largest target in TV’s soul saving industry. He couldn’t resist temptation, So he shot himself.

When Swaggart fell, other TV ministers defended him, saying they admired his open confession and that he should be forgiven. Some said they cried with him, and they all said, when asked, that this kind of shenanigan is not going to help their fundraising efforts.

An interesting point is that the question asked most frequently about Swaggart now is not if he can be a viable and effective preacher of the gospel, but rather, can he regain sufficient credibility to remain a powerful fundraiser?

Or, it’s not if he can still save souls, it’s if he can still keep the money rolling in.

He probably can. He’s the kind who can somehow cash in on this whole situation. He probably can say something to the effect that God will forgive him only if he spends $500 million carrying the word of the gospel around the world, and that he needs your help to get out of the doghouse.

In response, his millions of viewers probably will warm up their check writing hands once again, and the show will go on. Don’t bet it won’t, because this guy is tough, and he won’t give up without a fight.

He’s like the medicine man who used to come to town, selling something like “Little Doc Roberts Tay-jo Tonic,” which was mostly alcohol and water and sold for $2 per bottle, 3 for $5. Often, they were run out of town, but they’d always come back.

Swaggart has been run out of town, but he’s got too good a deal going to stay away long.