His was the voice that I

heard each night as I drifted off to sleep, though no one

knew he ever entered my room.

I was probably a sophomore

in high school when I first came across his voice at

10:30 p.m. each evening on the AM radio channel. Everyone

knows that the unwritten commandment of the teen years is

"Be thou cool." It wasn't cool to think about

religion, it wasn't cool to be suspected as being

spiritual, and it certainly wasn't cool to listen to

Billy Graham night after night on his "Hour of

Decision" radio program (which was actually only

half an hour long). Yet, something about his voice, his

intensity, his passion drew me to tune in.

As far as teenage boys go,

I was pretty typical. I was a good, solid "C"

student in high school. Ascertaining correctly that I

would never again make use of chemistry, algebra or

geometry, I never cracked a book and studied only to

barely pass crucial exams. I played football throughout

high school, finally earning a starting berth as an

offensive center, unsuccessfully tried out for the

shot-put on the track and field team, and was one of the

best fighters on the brand-new school karate team. I

generally dated the same four girls throughout high

school and mostly kept to a small circle of close

friends, many of whom were in the Methodist youth group I

attended on Sunday nights. I was so typical, I was

elected as the "1969 Typical Teen" at

Dobyns-Bennett High School.

Yet, there was a secret

side to my life. The war in Vietnam was raging, the civil

rights movement was in full bloom, and Woodstock was on

the horizon. I had seen two Kennedys gunned down and a

peaceful Martin Luther King, Jr., murdered. Two of my

friends were killed in the war and my next-door neighbor,

a smiling kid two years my senior, was horribly and

permanently wounded in the sweltering jungles of that

land so far away. Life beyond high school looked very

scary ... terrifying, in fact. The secret side was that I

was afraid of the future and I was looking for something

to give life meaning.

It was my nightly ritual to

turn on the radio and drift off to sleep listening to the

Beatles, the Dave Clark Five, the Temptations, the

Monkees, the Rolling Stones and other favorite groups of

the period. Music then, as now, could offer a temporary

escape from the realities of life.

One night, while trying to

find a station, I happened upon the Baptist preacher who

was so familiar to all. I don't remember what he said but

I do remember that his words were comforting somehow,

full of hope and promise. In a world that was spinning

madly out of control, Billy Graham seemed to have it all

together. He became my new bedtime ritual, although I

carefully guarded that fact. Listening to Billy Graham

was not "cool" by any standard.

From Billy Graham, I

learned the importance of the holy scriptures, not as an

antique or an artifact, but as a living, powerful, Word .

I learned to pray imitating the great evangelist's

prayers and learned to see the simple, yet profound,

truths proclaimed in the Bible. I learned that God was

not a concept or a force but a Father who desired

communication with his children.

I learned, from Billy

Graham, that God was not, as Bette Midler says,

"watching from a distance," but was as close as

a breath or a heartbeat. Above all, I learned from Billy

Graham that, "God loved the world so much that he

sent his very own Son that whoever would believe in Him

should not die but would live forever." Sometime

later, as a 19-year-old Marine, that truth came home as I

knelt and surrendered my life and entrusted my uncertain

future to God.

Later, when I became the

pastor of a Methodist church at 23 (no one that young

should be allowed to be a pastor!), I bought a book of

Graham sermons and preached them nearly verbatim to that

first congregation. Later still, when prominent

evangelists would fall into sin and shame, I could look

to the now-aging evangelist and take heart that it was,

indeed, possible to live a life of integrity.

This week, I discover that

Christian History magazine has named Billy Graham as one

of the "top ten influential Christians in the world

during the 20th century." I'm not at all surprised.

I never met the evangelist, never went to a Billy Graham

crusade, never walked the aisle at his invitation. But I

was significantly influenced all the same.

It is probable that

millions of people have experienced the reality of an

encounter with God through the ministry of Billy Graham.

When one thinks of Graham, one thinks of packed stadiums,

of magnificent choirs, or crowded altars. But not me. I

think of an AM radio station and a solitary kid, looking

for answers, in a bedroom in Tennessee.

[Father

David Epps is rector of Christ the King Church in the

south Atlanta area. He may be contacted at [email protected] or at www.ChristTheKingCEC.com . ]