It was part political caucus, part camp meeting, part trade show--and all barn burner. As the crowds of 4,000 milled through the Sheraton Washington Hotel in the nation's capital last week, Gospel singers crooned, video- equipment salesmen hawked their wares, and media consultants prowled the meeting rooms for new talent. Dozens of Senators and Congressmen made it their business to turn out for the cameras and lights, cementing alliances and buffing up images. Jeane Kirkpatrick and Jesse Jackson were there. President Reagan, appropriately, sent a message on videotape.
The occasion was the convention of the National Religious Broadcasters. This is a group whose most resonant names--and recognizable faces--are the televangelists, the stars of the electronic church, the pastors of "Pray TV." And at one session after another, cheered on by such honored elders of the field as Billy Graham and Oral Roberts, these powerhouse preachers strutted their stuff. Jimmy Swaggart roared that the Supreme Court is "an institution damned by God Almighty" for allowing abortions. Jerry Falwell argued that "theologically, any Christian has to support Israel, simply because Jesus said to." Even White House Communications Director Patrick Buchanan drew audience cries of "Amen!" and "Praise the Lord!" when he exhorted Republicans to "tap into the spiritual revival that is going in the country."
If Buchanan sounded downright evangelical for a politician, one evangelist in particular sounded mighty like a politician. He was Marion Gordon ("Pat") Robertson, 55, head of the Christian Broadcasting Network and a fixture on CBN's four-times-a-day The 700 Club. Robertson, a Southern Baptist, has been transmitting signals that he might join the race for the Republican nomination to succeed Reagan. Political pros are uncertain how big a factor he could be in the primaries, let alone the convention, but they are convinced that he could energize the Christian right and siphon votes from other candidates. True believers are tingling at the prospect. As ROBERTSON IN 1988 buttons blossomed, the amiable Virginian took the N.R.B. platform to denounce the evils of abortion, homosexuality and school violence, all to be overcome by a flood tide of moral regeneration. "We are going to see a change in this nation," he promised his listeners, "and you are going to be a part of it."
Perhaps they are already. Preachers like Robertson command audiences that form, if not a true Moral Majority, at least several potent and readily mobilized minorities. Robertson's following provides much of CBN's $233 million annual income. In a year, viewers of The 700 Club log 4 million prayer calls to 4,500 volunteers manning telephone banks in 60 counseling centers. Such motivated constituencies can--and do--bestow blessings aplenty, in the form of money and votes, upon candidates who win their favor.