Billy Graham, evangelist and spiritual groupie was seen in every White House for decades. Presidents, regardless of their religious beliefs used the ambitious Graham as a prop. He was God's advisor to the powerful, keeping American leaders on an even spiritual keel. 'On your knees, Mr. President', Graham had said to Richard Nixon, 'and ask God for strength and sustenance in your time of need'.
The President, in tears as he looked into Graham's eyes and saw the truth revealed, knelt with him, joined hands in prayer, and asked the Almighty for strength and resolve. Graham hinted at 'forgiveness', hoping to exact a solemn confession from the President for Watergate - confession being the first and final step to spiritual renewal - but he was hesitant to overstep the bounds of the advisor-executive relationship. It was enough to get this man prostrate before the Lord and let his majesty bring the President to spiritual renewal.
'A moment of weakness', Nixon admitted in his memoirs. 'Getting down on my knees with that carny barker was wallowing in self-pity, and Nixon doesn't do self-pity'; but Graham couldn't keep his big mouth shut and the next day, he stood before a bank of microphones, beaming with pride and sanctimonious satisfaction, telling the people how he had saved the President, and that no matter what the outcome of Watergate, the country was now in the hands of a man of God.
There was no more shameless, self-righteous, old fool of a windbag than Billy Graham. The knees on his serge suit were worn thin thanks to his piety, dropping down as he did at every opportune moment - with the Speaker of the House in an unguarded moment, the Senate Majority Leader, and a trail of lesser Washington officialdom.
'Here he comes again', said one Senator who had been pursued by Graham to 'see the light of the Gospel' and 'bend to his will'. A royal pain in the ass, the Senator said to those in the cloakroom waiting for a vote on the floor, a buggering fool; but he like just about everyone else in the room deferred to Graham's popularity and very public rectitude.
All except one Jewish member of the House who said that Graham was full of shit, the biggest charlatan since Brady McCormick, snake oil salesman who had bilked thousands out of credulous Iowans, kept one step ahead of the law and went on to Indiana, Kentucky, and Illinois before he was caught. He tried to bribe his way out of arrest, pulling hundreds of dollars out of his crocheted satchel and stuffing the bills in the pockets of the revenuers; but he had to spend a night in a Kalamazoo jail before being released on nominal bail by a judge who said his gout had been cured by McCormick's elixir of branch water.
So, the Jewish member was on to Graham like everybody else, but he was the only one with the chutzpah to say it publicly. Graham was an offensive bully, a tarted up fool, a complete shell game conman, a spiritual quack.
He was a charlatan, one more publicity-seeking, Bible-thumping huckster in the long tradition of American revivalists, snake-oil salesman, and get-rich-quick carny con men. Burt Lancaster played a perfect Billy Graham in Elmer Gantry, the Sinclair Lewis itinerant preacher out to make a buck, get in Sister Ruth’s pants, and take every rural rube in the country for a ride. Lancaster could have been portraying Billy Sunday, Aimee Semple McPherson, Pat Robertson, Jim and Tammy Faye Baker, or a hundred other evangelists who have barnstormed the country since the wagons went west.
There was no escaping Billy Graham for almost fifty years. He was everywhere and with everyone. He was America’s go-to good person. Being seen with Billy Graham had no downside whatsoever.
Those few who thought him a sanctimonious publicity hound were too few to matter. Politicians and political wannabees trotted him out even when he was doddering and never sure who had invited him.
It was a win-win game. Politicos used Graham to pander to their fundamentalist voters, to show the Christian flag, and to stand publicly for morality and righteousness. And Graham basked in the reflected glory of public figures. He didn’t seem to care who they were or what they stood for. He was uninterested in the straightness of their moral spine, the cut of their ethical jib, or the purpose in their hearts. He would stand, kneel, and sing with anybody.
Billy Graham hobbled to the Oval Office to the very end and his passing signaled the last days of presidential spiritual guidance. Progressives, while acknowledging the role of religion in American life, found it a bother, a troublesome bit of quackery that slowed the wheels of social reform. Southern evangelists, those of Biblical originalism, creationism, and charismatic faith were the worst - credulous, epiphanic dupes who whooped and hollered for Jesus and let everything ride on his miraculous robes.
The kneeling together, holding of hands, bowing of heads, and tearful appeals of the likes of Billy Graham are sheer nonsense, charlatan fol-de-rol, and self-serving fakery.
'Thank God the old fool is dead', said President Trump who never in his life had gotten down on his knees for anyone or with anyone. 'He was a fucking pain in the ass'. Trump wanted nothing to do with the smarmy evangelical Protestantism so prevalent in America. His return to the secular fundamentalism of Jefferson and Adams, itself inspired by the religious sentiments of the Enlightenment, was more than enough to convince voters that he was a man of principle, a believer who never once embraced the hoopla and circus antics of clowns like Graham.
Graham was not the only Presidential spiritual groupie. The Dalai Lama has been no slouch. He is as sanctimonious, hungry for the spotlight, and as self-serving and ambitious as the old Bible-thumper himself. There isn’t a politician in America who doesn’t want a photo op with him.
He has been photographed with rock stars, NBA players, with the well-to-do on Martha's Vineyard golf courses - a shamelessly ambitious man whose every staged photo-op is a ridiculous send up of his supposed Buddhist principles. The man is a co-opted, television sitcom, Bollywood jester.
To be sure Trump has been approached by both the Dalai Lama and Graham's son Franklin, a chip off the old block, a sanctimonious windbag like his father but without the political savvy or charisma for the credulous like the old man. Trump has refused. He hates to share the limelight and the last thing he would do would be to show up on stage with two of the world's biggest hucksters.
Joe Biden demurred, and courteously declined requests from the younger Graham. Progressives were on record saying that Christian evangelism and Biblical truisms were impediments to secular progress so no revival tent preacher would ever show up at the White House.
Besides that, the progressive canon was all about inclusivity, and although religion might be an obstacle to social reform, America was a diverse country with Christians, Muslims, Hindus, and all the rest; so that the President of a rainbow nation could never be seen favoring one religion.
So the era of presidential spiritual advisors seems to be over, although both Rubio and Vance are devout Catholics, and if they are elected to the presidency after Trump, spiritual counsel might be in the wings. Anti-papist critics warn that the Oval Office would become a tacky shrine of grottos and statues of the Virgin Mary, but that is just old-fashioned nastiness.
America is a land of hucksters, charlatans, con men, Ponzi schemes, shell games, and televangelists; and the presence of Billy Graham with just about every President in recent memory only gives credence to the notion. Graham came out of a long tradition of spiritual tomfoolery. Revival tents were seen everywhere on the prairie in the old day, and bald-faced tricksters promised salvation for only a pittance; so no one should be surprised by the likes of Billy Graham or his feckless son showing up at official gatherings. 'Hit one for the Lord!', says Elmer Gantry.


