When the televangelist scandals broke in the 1980s, the “greed is good” era of spiritualized Reaganism, Granville Oral Roberts was caught in the maelstrom, even though his transgression was far less tawdry than those of others—Marvin Gorman, Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker, Jimmy Swaggart. On January 4, 1987, Roberts informed his television audience that God would “call me home” unless God's people ponied up $8 million in support of a medical missionary program. The fact that this information had come directly to the evangelist from the Almighty provoked ridicule, especially on the heels of an earlier conversation with the deity, a 900-foot Jesus who had instructed Roberts to construct a massive City of Faith hospital. The flagging finances of the hospital had prompted the $8 million appeal.
In this excellent, accessible biography, Jonathan Root manages to steer clear of sensationalism and cheap shots, even though the temptation might have been overwhelming at times. The Roberts presented here is a sympathetic figure, a poor country boy who overcame a stutter, was divinely healed, and went on to fame on radio, television, and founder of an eponymous university.
Roberts's trajectory, however, was anything but straight, and the author expertly guides us through the evangelist's remarkable life, beginning with the adversities of a penurious childhood, Oral's early gift of healing, the shadow of an older brother, the death of an older sister, and an evangelical conversion, “when suddenly the likeness of Jesus appeared in his face” (20). Oral's younger brother transported him to a healing revival, where he was cured of both tuberculosis and stuttering.
Following his marriage to Evelyn Wingate in 1938, Roberts accepted his first pastorate in Fuquay Springs, North Carolina, then on to Shawnee, Oklahoma, where he ventured into radio. But congregational ministry could not contain his ambition. “My blood craves action,” he wrote in 1943. “I desire advancement!” (33). A reading of 3 John prompted his breakthrough into prosperity theology: “Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in health, even as thy soul prospereth” (KJV). An immediate test of the Almighty's munificence yielded a new Buick, and Roberts was on his way, eventually bundling prosperity theology with Norman Vincent Peale's positive thinking to produce what Roberts called “abundant life,” which became the name of his organization's magazine (70).
Freed of pastoral responsibilities, Roberts set up his base of operations in Tulsa. An early tent revival netted converts but also riled the neighbors, one of whom fired four bullets into the tent, missing the evangelist by inches. Roberts adroitly translated near tragedy to public relations advantage, becoming known as the “man praying for the sick” (42). His healing peregrinations to other venues expanded his renown and, not incidentally, bulked up his mailing list, which he used in turn to solicit more donations.
Like other evangelicals, Roberts early on recognized the importance of media. His 1954 foray into television, Your Faith Is Power, brought modest exposure and limited success, but Roberts was undeterred. In 1956, when he announced his audacious plans to construct a City of Faith in Tulsa, those plans included television production facilities.
Even more audacious was the idea to form a university, which Root claims was a long-standing aspiration. The mandate once again came directly from God in 1960 when the Almighty told Roberts, “Raise up your students to hear My voice” (81). Property and buildings were not the only impediments. As Root notes, “The task of finding Spirit-filled PhDs wasn't going to be easy” (88). As Roberts began to cobble together administrators and faculty, as construction began on the buildings, the people of Tulsa started to recognize Roberts and his enterprises as an economic engine, and Roberts became a celebrated civic figure.
His lifestyle adjusted accordingly. Never disposed to miss out personally on the prosperity he preached, Roberts wore expensive, custom-tailored suits, maintained memberships in posh country clubs, and began to accumulate lavish properties for his personal use, even though occasional leaks about such luxury sometimes curtailed contributions to his ministry. Roberts's 1968 transfer of membership to Tulsa's Boston Avenue Methodist Church, with its breathtaking Art Deco architecture, symbolized the culmination of his journey from poor Pentecostal preacher to establishment evangelist, even though that again alienated some followers.
Not everything was rosy. His frequent absences from home created marital tensions, and his fraught relationships with his children illustrate (once again) the challenges of passing the faith from one generation to the next. Roberts also temporized on race issues. When asked where he stood on racial integration, Roberts sounded very much like his contemporary, Billy Graham, protesting, “I am a minister of the gospel, not a politician” (66). Upon his return from apartheid South Africa, Roberts insisted he “saw no serious trouble between the whites and blacks,” although the author claims that Roberts “became more vocal about racism in the 1960s” (66, 143).
Roberts nevertheless fumbled his one real opportunity to bring help and healing to racial matters. When Roberts proposed his City of Faith hospital, inspired by yet another conversation with the Almighty, critics argued that not only did Tulsa have a surfeit of hospital beds but also that the part of town that most needed a hospital was north Tulsa, where a majority of Tulsa's Black population lived, not south of town, where Roberts wanted it. Root guides us through the weeds of the approval process—zoning boards, politicians, accreditation challenges—all of which Roberts was able to surmount, although it provided a pyrrhic victory because the financial drain on the entire university prompted the controversial $8 million ransom.
“Roberts may have started his ministry with pure motives to give comfort to the sick and downtrodden,” Root concludes, “but he was eventually corrupted by power” (204). That narrative is all too familiar. Roberts and Root, however, make it colorful.
