Worshipers on A Holy Roll

By Richard N. Ostling

"To allow a preacher of the Gospel, when he is caught beyond the shadow of a doubt committing an immoral act . . . to remain in his position as pastor (or whatever), would be the most gross stupidity." Under the rules of the Assemblies of God, such a sinner must be suspended from preaching for one year and put on probation for a second year, or else there is a danger that the "whole church will be destroyed."

When the Rev. Jimmy Swaggart wrote those sentiments in articles over the past 15 months in his magazine the Evangelist, he obviously believed them. But when the Assemblies last week prescribed precisely that punishment for him, Swaggart defied the decision and declared his intention to renew preaching next month. He thus not only raised questions about his own future but once again trained an unwanted spotlight on the church group that, before the scandals involving Swaggart and Jim Bakker, had become the fastest-growing denomination in the U.S.

% After a day and a half of deliberating, singing and praying at an emergency session in Springfield, Mo., 206 general presbyters of the Assemblies toughened a three-month suspension originally imposed by the local district council in Louisiana. They ruled that Swaggart must stay out of the pulpit and off TV for a year; even past tapes cannot be aired. Swaggart nonetheless announced that he would return to television on May 22, despite the risk of defrocking.

Though he has not said publicly what sins he committed, sordid details will be forthcoming just a few weeks after he goes back on the air. Penthouse magazine has solicited, for an undisclosed sum, Prostitute Debra Murphree to give her account of the pornographic acts Swaggart paid her to perform for him over a year's time. The preacher's ministry is already losing $1.8 million a month and could be hurt further by those revelations.

To many of Swaggart's followers, though, the larger concern is what harm the past year of Gospelgate will do to his remarkable denomination. "We are ready to put this matter behind us," states the group's weary leader, G. Raymond Carlson. Understandably so. The double-barreled embarrassment involving Bakker and Swaggart, the Assemblies' two most visible evangelists, has unforgettably tarnished preparations for the denomination's 75th anniversary next year. But so far the damage has been controllable, testimony to the extraordinary vigor of the Assemblies of God.

With 2,135,000 adherents and 11,000 churches in the U.S., the denomination is one of the Pentecostal groups that took root in the early 1900s. A gathering of pastors formed the Assemblies in 1914 and almost immediately faced down a schism by sticking firmly to orthodox doctrine. Then and now the group's born-again converts undergo "baptism in the Holy Spirit," an experience that must be accompanied by speaking in tongues, or glossolalia.

Once disdained by upper-crust Protestants as "Holy Rollers," Assemblies worshipers are now on a holy roll. Combining lively worship, warm fellowship and soul-winning zeal, the group posted an astounding 23.6% increase in church attendance between 1979 and 1985, a period when those crustier Protestants were struggling to stem decline. John Vaughn, who tracks church growth from Missouri's Southwest Baptist University, reports that two-fifths of America's most rapidly growing congregations are in the Assemblies. The mammoth First Assembly in Phoenix, for instance, boasts the nation's biggest Sunday school (8,000 students) and Holy Week pageants that have attracted tens of thousands.

The Assemblies' headquarters in Springfield, nicknamed the Blue Vatican for its aqua color, churns out 23 tons of Gospel literature a day and administers a $142 million annual budget. Half the money supports a foreign effort that fields an impressive 1,530 missionaries. Swaggart's suspension is particularly significant to this endeavor. Not only did his ministry contribute $23 million to missions in the past two years, but most converts at Swaggart's worldwide revivals were referred to Assemblies congregations. The group now has 15.8 million members overseas, compared with just 4 million in 1974.

Long before the scandal, Swaggart was a source of dissension. Despite his high-tech ministry and opulent life-style, Swaggart was ever on the hunt for heresy and "worldliness," championing the simpler Pentecostalism of old. He targeted dozens of the newer congregations that are experiencing the greatest U.S. growth. Many participate in the interdenominational charismatic movement, which often tolerates modern feel-good theologies and rejects old taboos (drinking, smoking, dancing). Remarks Tommy Reid, pastor of a 5,000-member church near Buffalo: "I certainly don't want to be from the backwoods, where there are rules and regulations a mile long." In the long run, ironically, the fall of the hellfire-breathing preacher could have a soothing, strengthening effect on the booming, still changing denomination.

With reporting by Tim Miller/Springfield and Richard Woodbury/Baton Rouge