A humanist among the faithful.

Purchasing my $60 advance registration the day before at a local Christian bookstore, I received my Conference Handbook. In it, Promise Keepers is described as simply "a Christian-centered ministry dedicated to uniting men through vital relationships to become godly influences in their world." The handbook then adds this statement of faith:

1. We believe that there is one God eternally existing in three persons: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

2. We believe that the Bible is God's written revelation to man and that it is verbally inspired, authoritative, and without error in the original manuscripts.

3. We believe in the deity of Jesus Christ, His virgin birth, sinless life, miracles, death on the cross to provide for our redemption, bodily resurrection and ascension into heaven, present ministry of intercession for us, and His return to earth in power and glory.

4. We believe in the personality and deity of the Holy Spirit, that He performs the miracle of new birth in unbelievers and indwells believers, enabling them to live godly lives.

5. We believe that man was created in the image of God, but because of sin, was alienated from God. Only through faith, trusting in Christ alone for salvation which was made possible by His death and resurrection, can that alienation be removed.

I would call this a minimum statement of generic evangelical Christianity -- easily acceptable to evangelicals, and even charismatics, of many denominations.

Early Friday evening, as I approached Rich Stadium, I could see a number of groups of men, often wearing various types of religious T-shirts, some walking from a few blocks away where they had managed to park for free, making their way to the conference. Meanwhile, a long line of cars filed slowly into the stadium parking lot where parking spaces went for $7 each, and property owners nearby offered their own spaces for $4 and $5 each. Some men called out names from car windows and from the roadside as they recognized one another, an activity that continued inside the stadium.

In the main parking lot, I noticed that the mass of vans and busses were mostly from smaller towns and secondary cities in Upstate New York, with a few from places in Pennsylvania and Ohio. I didn't see even one with markings from the City of Buffalo or any other large metropolitan area. Many bore signs proclaiming their passengers were from this or that evangelical, fundamentalist, or Pentecostal church group.

As I approached the entrance area, the sight that demanded attention was the number of large tents erected next to the stadium. Two were quite sizable -- over one hundred feet long by seventy-five feet wide. In the first tent were the exhibits of charismatic and evangelical organizations, as well as the vendors of various religious items and programs. One program I noted in particular was aimed at helping the families of Christian alcoholics. Clearly, as is commonly done at secular conferences, Promise Keepers was making some extra money renting exhibit space to like-minded outside organizations and retailers.

The second tent was the PK bookstore, featuring a great variety of books, tapes, and compact discs. Almost all were related to PK efforts and published by James Dobson's Focus on the Family. Many of these "Promise Keepers Resources" were intended for use in male discussion groups that would commence meeting after the weekend concluded, as a follow-through on PK's seven promises. Prices ranged from $5 to $15, with most volumes going for about $10. Also for sale were PK souvenir T-shirts, caps, and other apparel, as well as mugs, key rings, pens, and additional paraphernalia. Overall, the prices of these items weren't unreasonable. The bookstore, like everything else at this conference, was highly organized. And trade was brisk; many attendees bought or already had PK caps or T-shirts.

A smaller "prayer tent" was available for those who, wishing to be born again, could be accommodated by waiting ministers. And several other tents were there for workers and volunteers who were handling assorted conference details.

As I passed through the turnstile and entered the stadium itself, I could see that, outside the seating area, hundreds of women were taking care of the basic chores related to a well-run event of this size. They handled the sales of gate admissions, distribution of lunches, handing out of pamphlets, and assorted other business and housekeeping tasks. They weren't visible in the spectator section, however.

Most, but not all, of the participants were in uniform. If they weren't already decked out in PK wear, they had on other shirts and caps of a religious nature. There were T-shirts bearing the full face of Jesus, crown of thorns on his head and blood all over his face. There were "Bikers for Jesus," as well as such slogans as "Real Men Are Promise Keepers" and "A Man's Gotta Do What a Man's Gotta Do." Out of the approximately 20,000 participants the sponsors claimed attended (and I estimated the same number), the great majority seemed to be working-class men between the ages of twenty-five and forty-five, with some in their early fifties. They were generally clean-cut. I saw only one with an earring, but a few sported tattoos. Beards weren't common, but many had mustaches. Few teens were in evidence, and I saw only a few older men. As a result, my own gray hair was unusual, earning me more comments of "God bless you, sir" than anyone else I noticed.

Some members of a number of church groups had apparently come a bit early to "reserve" blocks of seats for more of their members arriving later. This, however, was a somewhat prohibited activity, according to the words appearing on the Jumbotron, the giant TV screen set up over the stage. I saw banners on poles with the names of churches and collections of men sitting together wearing their own special group-identifying T-shirts or caps. I found it interesting that people from one group didn't seem to talk to those from other groups. Each gathering seemed to keep to itself, despite the many attempts by the organizers to bring strangers together.

Also contrary to the organizers' design, the audience was predominantly white. They hadn't attracted anywhere close to the number of "ethnics" (the term used in their literature and by their officials) they had sought. I estimated only about 10 percent were African American. And, by the second morning, my count was half that. Judging from the number of signs in Spanish, however, there were a number of Hispanics in attendance.

But money was clearly flowing. For, if each of the 20,000 attendees paid the $60 per person advance entrance fee -- $70 at the gate -- and you subtracted the fees for the reported 2,500 men admitted free on "scholarships," the take from this event alone had to have been at least $1,050,000. And this doesn't include revenue from merchandise and food sales, as well as rental fees charged to those set up in the exhibit tent.

Looking down onto the stadium's football field, I could see that it had been converted into a stage area. Yet, despite the clear revival nature of the event, the external trappings were secular in appearance. The stage itself, for example, was fronted by large potted plants while tall Promise Keepers banners appeared at the flanks. A transparent podium was centered toward the front; while the area to the right was set up for band musicians, and to the left for a choir box. But there was no altar, no cross or other religious symbols, and no churchlike appearance. Four Greek-style pillars rose from the corners of the stage and were topped by a roof quite high up, reminiscent of a Greek temple.

I counted seventeen black-shirted security guards standing along the front of the stage -- rock concert style -- and numerous security people scattered about the field. Elaborate TV camera setups and lights were behind an array of field-level seats (masses of folding chairs) and in front of the stadium seats. Two Promise Keepers TV cameras were trained on the stage and others were trained on the stadium audience. One electronic control room was to the right of the stage, and one was just in front of the stadium seats in its own tent. From these rooms, sound, lighting, and TV images were managed and projected onto the Jumbotron so that the audience could see close-ups of the singers, the instrumentalists, and the revival speakers. None of the musicians or speakers who later came on stage wore religious robes or anything churchlike. The all-male choir, in fact, wore rather unattractive black T-shirts.

As if promptness were kin to godliness, the program started at exactly 6:30 PM and began with the showing of a short video on the Jumbotron. This video stressed the idea that, beyond the secure walls of the stadium, the nation was in turmoil: violent crime, immorality, and strife reigned supreme -- and all previous approaches to solving these problems had failed. Scenes of earlier PK stadium events were shown, with crowds of worshipping men seemingly changing their lives by communing with each other and God within the sanctuary provided by the stadium environment.

From this video came a seamless segue to live images of real people now on stage. Tommy Walker (white, clean cut, about thirty years old), the acoustic-guitar-playing song leader of the Maranatha! Promise Band and Choir commenced immediately to lead the crowd in a few rousing songs of praise. Walker's backup players were of the soft rock 'n' roll variety, using electric guitars and drums. But although the music was contemporary -- a change from the old-fashioned hymns often associated with church -- I didn't find this an improvement. The songs all suffered from repetitious yet forgettable melodies and lyrics. As the words appeared, karaoke-style, on the lower part of the Jumbotron, I made a point of writing down some of the least memorable verses:

If the Lord had not been on our side

All our enemies would swallow us alive.

If the Lord had not been on our side,

All the raging waters and the mighty flood

Would have swept over us.

This was probably the high-water mark of intellectual content in any of the lyrics. But music was a constant feature of the conference. At any point where there was a lull in the proceedings or pause while waiting for a speaker, the music would fill the breach and all were invited to sing. During all of this, the choir would sway back and forth and make arm movements, which were imitated by the crowd. And the choir itself was directed by a man who led all the movements required.

At 6:47 PM conference host Joseph Garlington, a middle-aged man of color and pastor of the Covenant Church of Pittsburgh, appeared on stage. Garlington began by announcing that everyone in attendance that evening would "learn what it means to be a Godly man." He led the crowd in a prayer that ended not with "Amen" but with the shout, "Come, Lord!" A slow song then followed. For the second verse, the crowd was asked to "kneel before God" while singing it, and many did. Scenes of people in the stadium appropriately responding were shown on the Jumbotron, providing a kind of reinforcement. For the third verse, the crowd was asked to stand and sing. Such manipulative directing of the crowd's behavior persisted throughout the conference.

Of all the accomplished preachers, Garlington proved to be the most polished. All during the two days, Garlington was able, with friendly informality, to keep a running commentary on what had happened and what would happen. He was able to change from evangelical messages to singing simple gospel songs to begging participants to bring a "person from another racial group" to the next meeting (and especially to the planned march on Washington, D.C.). And at the end of each of the sessions, he smoothly slipped from teaching and preaching to plugging the books recommended for reading and discussion -- doing so without any noticeable gap in his delivery. He never faltered in his speech, singing, or presentations. in keeping with his image, Garlington was always dressed in a windbreaker, PK cap, and polo shirt.

Garlington introduced Pastor Jeffrey Johnson of the Eastern Star Baptist Church in Indianapolis, Indiana, who presented the first session, "The Heart of a Godly Man: Captured by Christ." This was a typical "call to be saved." According to PK literature:

Conferences are built upon the premise that the first and

most important thing any man must do is to establish a

personal relationship with Christ. The opening speaker of

every conference presents an evangelistic message which

is followed by an invitation for men to "come forward" to

the platform area to publicly commit their lives to Christ.

Johnson began by talking about how important it was that people of different races get along as "brothers dwelling together in unity." He said, "If God is the father, you are my brother," and was greeted by cheers from the audience. This was all in keeping with the PK concept of "racial reconciliation."

Then Johnson launched into his primary theme on what it feels like to be "in a bitter situation." He said, "Any time you go a significant amount of time without having a need met, it will make you bitter." He addressed the crowd as if speaking to each man individually -- telling them there was an emptiness under their skin, their marriages weren't perfect, and other "cold reading" generalities, designed to make each man feel that he was really understood.

Having laid this groundwork, Johnson declared that life is too big to handle by yourself; you better bring Jesus with you; Jesus alone is sufficient to solve your problems.

This latter point was illustrated by a story about a man who had great wealth. When he died, his possessions were to be auctioned off. Thousands of people came to bid on the exotic items for sale. But the deceased had laid down one proviso as to how the bidding should start: a framed photograph of his son had to be the first item auctioned off, and someone had to buy it before any other item could go. Well, after some time, one person bid a dollar for the picture, and then the auction was closed with this man getting all the items. When the other bidders grumbled their disapproval, the auctioneer explained, "After all, whoever gets the Son, gets everything else!"

At this punchline, great cheers broke out in the stadium -- though I could only think of the groans and jeers that would greet such a climax were I to tell the story in any of my own venues. Johnson concluded this theme by referring to Jesus as a kind of "big brother" who will come and help you out only if you surrender your life to him. Declaring that volunteers were available up at the front of the stage to help those who wanted to come forward and give their lives to Christ, Johnson began his altar call. Promise Keepers says about 400 men came forward (of whom about half had been saved before). They were then directed, word-for-word from the podium, in publicly declaring their commitment to Christ. Finally, the whole stadium crowd was led in singing all the verses to "Amazing Grace." The volunteers up front ministered to the converts, asking each to fill out a commitment card and turn it in for a free Bible.

Thus ended the first session. During the intermission that followed, I decided to see how well the more temporal needs of the attendees were being addressed. I found that to be well organized, too. There were no waiting lines for the restrooms because both women's and men's facilities were open to all the men in attendance. (I wonder what the 500 women volunteers did; perhaps they just waited until the program resumed.) The food lines, however, were quite long -- on every stadium level and for quite some time. But there were plenty of food service personnel and plenty of hamburgers, hot dogs, and other junk food items, but no alcohol as at other Rich Stadium events. (I suspect that any vegetarian men or men with special dietary needs had to make their own arrangements, as they often do.)

After the intermission, the group was led in some more songs and shown another short video, this one featuring some rather bad actors pretending to be part of a small men's discussion group, reinforcing the PK stadium revival experience. Then Garlington introduced Pastor David Castro of New Covenant Ministries in Miami, Florida, who presented the second session, "Purity of Heart: Living Clean Before God."

Castro was a loud preacher. He pounded, he shouted, he walked around bent over and yelling at the stage as he fulminated against sexual sin. He carried on about how important it was to be freed from bondage to Saturday night TV and other such evils. He talked about God getting in your face over the passions of the flesh. He referred to the guilt men feel when they commit "sexual sins" like adultery and homosexuality. He declared that it's not enough to just be a saved man, one must be a "Godly" man. In his rafter-rattling rhetoric, he said that each man present should get up every morning with the following prayer on his lips:

Father, you know I've got a problem with my eyes. When I

look at a woman I lust for her. When I go by a magazine

rack, I right away go to that pornography. O Father, you

know I've been bound by sexual impurity for years and

years. You know I've got a problem with masturbation.

You know I've got a problem with this Internet. I can't get

away from that screen! 0 Father, you know it! But I know

that the power is in you and the Holy Spirit is in me. Oh,

by faith in the name of Jesus, I cry out for deliverance!

From my perspective, it seemed taken for granted that every man present had cheated on his wife or had had an incestuous relationship with a daughter -- a presumption I found astounding, but no one else appeared the least surprised.

At the conclusion of his sermon, Castro made an altar call for men to come forward, confess, and repent. "Come forward for deliverance," he cried. "It's time to say that enough is enough!" He said one should then go home and apologize to one's molested daughter and abused wife.

A much larger group than before, numbering well over 2,000, came forward to confess their secret sin to the volunteers up front. Castro led the group in general repentance, dictating prayerful words about the dishonor one has brought on one's home and shouts of "Get behind me, Satan!" and thanks to God for mercy: "Thank you for forgiving me tonight.... I am free.... I claim victory in Jesus' name.... I was rolling in the mattress of sin" and you saved me. And so on.

With this sermon finished, Garlington reappeared to, in much quieter tones, report that, of those polled among the preregistrants to the conference, fully 64 percent had said that sexual temptation was the greatest struggle in their Christian life. So Garlington pitched the Promise Keepers video/workbook, Personal Holiness in Times of Temptation (while a picture of it was shown on the Jumbotron above him), a thirty-day program to help men break their bad habits. Thus, the first evening's program ended.

The revival continued all the next day, from 8:20 AM to 6:30 PM, with four more sessions. Session three, led by Pastor George Morrison, president of the Rocky Mountain Bible Institute, was called "The Disciplines of a Godly Man: Motivated by Grace" and offered practical advice on living out conservative Christian principles in one's daily life. A special practicum, "Personal Financial Integrity: How to Get Out of Debt," conducted by Rick Beggs, PK director of ministry service and former Focus on the Family spokesperson, was included in this session.

Beggs began by announcing that "God owns it all." He then made the assumption that each individual in the stadium had an average debt of $12,000, not including mortgage payments. Exaggerating the crowd size at 25,000 and multiplying that by the $12,000, he arrived at a figure of $300 million, declaring, "That money should be going to the Kingdom." The crowd cheered.

As for actually getting out of that debt, Beggs excluded women from the process, suggesting their inability to work on a family budget plan. He also added, "It will only cause tension to do this within the family." Instead, the Godly man should work on such matters with other men in his discussion group. Since this sort of thinking is a leftover from a time when women rarely worked outside the home, one can only surmise that the leaders of Promise Keepers really don't like women participating in the general economy.

Session four was entitled "Out of Isolation: Why a Small Men's Group" and was conducted by Dr. Stu Weber, who also speaks at PK's marriage and parenting seminars. Weber's performance on the importance of small "accountability groups," where men can get together to help one another keep PK's seven promises, epitomized the crowd-control techniques exercised throughout the conference. He used repetition of his various phrases and slogans and kept his audience physically active. From the opening of his talk, he announced that what he had to say was important and ordered everyone to turn to a neighbor and tell him to listen, saying, "You need to hear this message." Most of the men dutifully obeyed. Later, when talking about male groupings, he instructed everyone to, right there, form into groups of three or four. In each group, one was to "make a declaration" while the others were to pray with him that they might stand faithful. So men throughout the stadium got in circles of three or four, put their arms around each other at the shoulder, and followed the instructions on praying.

When repentance became a topic, attendees were encouraged to repeat, "It's never too late" -- which they did on cue. Then everyone was charged with a comment on Weber's message and instructed to say, "This makes sense to me." Weber spoke repeatedly about the difficulty of initiating the life changes he was preaching about. He said, "We gotta get up. We gotta get started. We gotta get on with it." And the crowd was instructed to say "Ouch" after every "We gotta" -- which they did. This went on for some time, until Weber be an to laugh. (Whether his laugher was out of delight at his successful manipulation or the silliness of the followers was hard to tell.)

One of the most humorous moments, however, was lost on or ignored by the crowd. In preaching how men must reinforce each other in moments of trial or doubt, Weber explained that this was why God is a trinity: the three walk together so that no one of them will be misled!

Although the idea isn't farfetched that men might understand men best, Weber suggested that men were also the best advisers on how to most effectively meet the needs of women -- that husbands can tell other husbands how to make their wives better wives. It's as if he were saying, "If you want to know how to make a woman happy, ask other men like you who haven't got a clue." I would characterize this as the locker-room approach to better family relations.

And there was also a bit of anti-catholic bias. Weber told the crowd that all of the saved are saints. "I am a saint today," he said, i don't have to wait 300 years to be canonized."

After lunch, the conference resumed with session five, "The Influence of a Godly Man: A Servant Who Leads," conducted by Gary Rosberg, a national speaker at PK's FamilyLife marriage conferences. (There are forty-seven such conferences scheduled for September through December of this year at a cost of $60 each for early registrants and $80 each for others.) In session five, the men were taught to be the spiritual leader of family and home by serving the needs of their wives and children. But there was a patronizing aspect to this: the good husband is the man who focuses on the needs of those he leads. As an example of how this husbandly and fatherly love should be expressed, Rosberg brought his wife Barbara and daughters Sara and Missy onto the stage. He then proceeded -- New Testament-style -- to wash their feet.

Connected with this session was a practicum, "A Man in the Work Place: Balancing Character and Competency," which dealt with professional character and integrity, as well as the more simple aspects of work and business ethics.

Session six was entitled "Embracing Reconciliation: Living Out the Great Commandment" and dealt with creating Christian unity across racial and denominational lines.

In the final send-off, attendees were enjoined to take the ideas of the weekend back to their churches, communities, and homes -- and also to become truly sanctified, moral, and Godly men who could serve as "ambassadors" of the faith and examples to the nation. For they were all invited to join the Promise Keepers march on Washington.

Despite the stated purpose of the October march, the picture of so many men being directed in minute activities-such as repeating phrases and gestures -- is not a comforting one to a person like me who believes that democracy is challenged by mindless believers following those who lead.

And that is my greatest concern after attending Promise Keepers' Rich Stadium conference: there were 20,000 men, clearly used to following such instructions from their religious leaders, who were being seduced into becoming pawns in a game not of their own choosing. These men were under control-not only in their physical actions but in their emotions and thoughts as well. And none seemed upset at being told precisely what to repeat or when to stand or hug or pray. Lured by a generic theology of great simplicity, then manipulated by ring-masters who played upon prior conditioning, thousands of men in Western New York were taken in by a comprehensive ploy aimed at reinforcing ideas from an era long past.

What eventual success Promise Keepers will have in achieving its underlying social and political agenda is less certain than the nature of that agenda itself. By leading men in a number of specific and simple behaviors, Promise Keepers knows full well that it can mentally soften up a crowd so as to enjoy more success with later, more complex actions: purchasing PK merchandise, starting accountability groups, taking charge of the family, and perhaps advocating right-wing political causes.

History is no stranger to such a pattern of control. Only continued scrutiny of Promise Keepers and its methods will tell us how likely is the prospect of a worst-case scenario.