| The
story of Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker's rise to power and inevitable fall from
grace could be lifted from any clichéd "VH1 Behind the Music"
script: "The Bakkers had everything: money, power, legions of adoring
fans. Then tragedy struck, and everything came tumbling down."
The Bakkers'
glitz and glamour, and their seemingly requisite flipside of drugs, booze,
infidelity, tax problems, and prison -- wouldn't be so shocking if they'd
been rock stars; the public expects such tawdriness from them. But as
ministers of the Assemblies of God church, the Bakkers were supposed to
be righteous, devout shepherds of the flock. So effective were the Bakkers
at beaming their Sunday School image into millions of homes, that their
sheep beamed millions of dollars back. Before long, these jetsetters for
Jesus had so much power, money, and magnetism that they could play God.
And if you want to know what becomes of people who try to be God, read
Isaiah 14:15 -- they become Leif Garrett.
In "Son
of a Preacher Man," the Bakkers' son, Jay, chronicles the 10-year
lifespan of the Praise The Lord (PTL) empire, contrasting its initial
success with his fizzling family life. In some ways, the book is a tell-all:
Jay recounts -- albeit filtered through a child's naive perception --
Tammy Faye's drug hallucinations, Jim's quickie with Jessica Hahn, and
his own alcoholism and drug abuse. But more interesting is how Jay, now
25 and a minister, groped his way through spiritual disillusionment, and
eventually found his calling -- a ministry that reaches fellow misfits
through punk rock, not promise rings.
Initially,
televangelism was a fledgling enterprise, limited to a few broadcast channels.
But with the growth of cable television and other changes in FCC law,
the airwaves opened to the electronic pulpit, and by one Nielsen estimate,
13 million viewers were tuning into televangelists' programming at least
once a week.
The Bakkers'
ministry paralleled televangelism's ascent. In 1966, they debuted their
puppet show on Pat Robertson's small network. Within 10 years the Bakkers
launched their own Praise the Lord channel from Charlotte, N.C., where
they preached their prosperity theology to millions of viewers on 1,200
cable systems.
Although
Jay contends the "gospel of my parents was flattened to emphasize
material riches," and that many of the Bakkers' good deeds -- helping
the homeless, aiding pregnant girls, starting a nationwide prison ministry
--- have been overlooked, prosperity theology was the centerpiece of Bakkers'
ministry. The problem with prosperity theology -- the belief that God
grants people riches because they are good -- is that inverse is often
assumed to be true: if you're poor, it must be because you're wicked.
Yet, prosperity
theology worked for the Bakkers, who used it as a defense for their lavish
homes, Rolls Royces, and the $11,000 jacuzzi they had installed in the
PTL studios.
Jay started
his life on Christian TV, and spent his childhood getting gussied up to
appear on his parents' show. In 1980, when Jay was 5, his father, assuming
the role of God the urban planner, opened Heritage USA, a Eden-like Christian
retreat whose opulence rivals any of Michael Jackson's imaginary worlds:
swimming pools, carrousels, a farm, petting zoo, shopping malls, hotels,
and restaurants.
Despite the
appearances of a happy family life, Jay and his sister Tammy Sue were
primarily raised in a surreal world by bodyguards and maids, as their
parents were too busy negotiating cable contracts and embarking on shopping
sprees to tuck them in at night. Yet Jay idolized his parents, and thought
of his dad as a "hero." As for his mother, "I was so in
love with her when I was a little boy. If I was good I'd get a new toy
or go to Pizza Hut." By junior high, Jay felt spiritually void, and
worried that he couldn't measure up to the standards his parents preached
from the PTL pulpit.
Finally,
Bakkers' PTL collapsed. To fund Heritage USA, Jim had to raise a million
dollars every other day, Jay recalls, and "he had to feed the monster
or risk losing it." After a series of investigations by the IRS and
FCC, Jim went to trial and was convicted on 24 counts of fraud and conspiracy.
Jim went to prison in 1988. Jay was 13.
Jay spent
his teen years on a meandering spiritual quest that was hindered by his
parents' divorce, and his own alcoholism and drug problems After Jay lobbied
for his father's parole, which was granted in 1994, Jim sent the wayward
youth to Master's Commission, a boot camp for kids who want to get started
in the ministry. But the Masters' Commission proved to be as dogmatic
as the PTL.
"The
one thing about which I was still certain was that something was missing
from what the church was offering people like me," Jay wrote. "Watered-down
or turn-or-burn versions of what had been preached in decades past were
being tendered but most preachers weren't really reaching kids with a
message of hope or grace. Few had done the hard work of changing the message
to touch today's youth, especially today's disenfranchised youth."
Jay and his
disaffected friends left the commission and started Revolution, a punk
rock ministry reaching out to spiritually lost kids whom mainstream Christianity
has alienated: the pierced and tattooed, leather-clad and jackbooted,
drug-addicted and homeless.
Revolution's
progressive, less judgmental view of religion, Jay says, doesn't try to
mold kids into a faux-Christian image. "...Misinterpretation of the
scriptures is turning a whole generation away from God. While people are
hurting, some ministers point fingers at parents working all day, video
games and Marilyn Manson, instead of looking at how religious closed-mindedness
and tradition have contributed to the problem."
In "Son
of a Preacher Man," Jay doesn't succeed in extracting sympathy for
his parents' misdeeds. While Jay doesn't excuse them for their sexual
indiscretions, he remains convinced that their financial sleights of hand
were mere misunderstandings on the part of the Internal Revenue Service.
But his arguments aren't persuasive -- it's hard to believe that the Bakkers
"made nothing from Heritage USA after expenses" when they were
riding the Concorde and importing $9,000 in truffles from Brussels.
Yet Jay's
more reasonable and realistic view of Christianity is refreshing. His
ministry has shed the dogmatism that saddles much of mainstream religion:
"...so much of the church has made up rules that are nowhere to be
found in the Bible or taken the scriptures our of context and turned them
into traditions. Meanwhile, the Christian Right's legalistic militancy
has created an ideal that's impossible to live up to."
Although
Jay's ministry doesn't reach as many people (and thus, isn't as well-funded)
as his father's, this son of a preacher is connecting with followers by
acknowledging the truth is rarely black and white, but rather in shades
of gray.
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