The case of the Sinister Minister

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By WEINSTEIN For about 40-or-so years, I've been a convinced atheist. But once in a while something happens that almost makes you believe that there might be a God. How else can we explain the "revelations" that have rained down upon us in the last few months?

First came "Contragate," which revealed President Reagan's con -tempt for the Constitution and all its laws. Shortly after, came Wall Street's "Insidergate," showing one way the rich get richer and the working class gets poorer.

Now comes "Pearly Gate," which gives us the inside dope on the modern-day Elmer Gantrys of TV.

Of all the "Gates," my favorite is "Pearly Gate." Having been raised in a southern HardshellBaptist family, it brings back memories of all the fire-andbrimstone preachers I had to listen to in my girlhood-and they were quite a few.

My grandmother used to take all us kids to every tent meeting that came our way. It was cheaper than the circus and almost as entertaining.

The "coming"

The tents were set up in an empty lot and filled with wooden folding chairs. The preacher was always from out-of-town and would advertise his "coming" with throw-away circulars. The advertisements praised the preach -er as nothing less than the second coming of Christ.

The opening act of singers or musicians of spiritual music was designed to open up the soul and the pocketbook. We kids had to sit near Grandmaw and behaveor else!

The preacher would give an emotional opening sermon-and believe me, he was talented. Then the good part came. He would begin to urge the faithful to open up their souls to the Lord and tell "Him" what was troubling them.

At first, hesitantly, people would rise from their chairs to reveal their troubles and ask the congregation to pray for their loved ones. Soon, wives would tell about husbands who drank or womanized or both, and husbands would stand up and ask the faithful to pray for wives who had run off with a good friend.

If the testimony got too revealing, my grandmother would send us kids out of the tent to play—which meant that we missed the best parts.

"Better to give..."

Then the preacher would get serious! He would ask the faithful to come to the pulpit and be forgiven for their sins. One by one they went to the altar and were "saved and sanctified" by the preacher's prayers.

Some would begin to "talk in tongues" and begin dancing in the aisles or fall down on the floor in a trance. If one of us kids laughed, we would get grand -maw's "back of the hand."

When you got up OM, LORD... MOW CAN YOU CONTINUE TO ALLOW EVANGELIST HUCKSTERS TO USE YOUR NAME FOR THEIR OWN GREEDY AND POLITICAL PURPOSES? preacher you could usually smell the liquor on his breath. Most of the time, the preacher would pick out the prettiest young woman in the congregation and ask her to stay after so they could pray together over her sins.

As things began to wind down, the preacher would start his main speech of the night—about money and how it was better to give than to receive. Despite the Depression, folks would dig down as deep as they could. They would put something in the plate even if it meant going without.

Those preachers lived off the misery and trouble of innocent people. But that was during the Depression and they probably couldn't make an honest. living.

I WAS GOING To ASK YOU THE SAME QUESTION..

In some degree, then, they also were victims.

Dinosaurs

But Tammy and Jimmie Bakker, the Rev. Jerry Foul -mouth, and all the rest of that crew of right-wing, Biblethumping, TV preachers are something else. They have been stalking this country like a bunch of fascist dinosaurs.

They've been banning books from our libraries and schools, inciting the bombing of abortion clinics (while closing their eyes to the poverty and hunger of living children), sympathizing with racists in South Africa, and condemning Blacks, women, and anyone else fighting for human rights—all in the name of God.

When people are bruised and battered from joblessness, hunger, and conditions beyond their control, they often turn to the only help they know-the Bible.

But they believe in a loving and forgiving God. They have faith that the poor, not the rich, are the children of God. They view Jesus as having taken from the rich to give to the poor, chasing the money lenders from the temple, and feeding the multitude with loaves of bread and fishes.

After I became a socialist, I would try to explain it to my mother. She would say it sounded just like what Jesus said about the rich man and the eye of the needle. Her religion was one of compassion, not hate and greed.

But these TV evangelists, rolling in wealth, are in the front line of defense of all the evils of capitalist society. They are highly respected, protected, and carefully nurtured by capitalist politicians, from Reagan on down.

They couldn't get away their swindles otherwise.