Religion: Jerry Falwell's Crusade

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The vitality of the conservatives' social and political movement stems from the strength of Fundamentalist and Evangelical groups, which offer a clearly defined presentation of Christianity that is persuasive to an increasing number of Americans. The prosperity of these churches is striking at a time when mainline Protestant groups are eroding. Major denominations that take a more flexible approach to the interpretation of Scripture have suffered a net decline of 4.6 million members since 1965. In the same years the Southern Baptists alone increased by 3.4 million. Among the causes of mainline shrinkage: the low birthrate of members, the shift of population to Sunbelt states where mainline denominations are weak, and the liberal churches' difficulty in holding the allegiance of their teenagers and young adults.

The reasons are simpler for people like Chandler Robinson of Fort Worth, a retired engineer, who with Wife Julie forsook his lifelong Episcopal affiliation to join a conservative Baptist church. Says he: "The more we found ourselves maturing in Christianity the more disappointed we became with the spiritual food we were receiving. We were looking for someone to teach us out of the Bible." The Rev. W.A. Criswell of Dallas, 76, the leonine patriarch of the Southern Baptists' insurgent Fundamentalist wing and pastor of their largest congregation, charges that liberal theology "empties the churches. Wherever liberalism places its leprous hand, there is death."

Believers usually explain that they are attracted to old-time Bible faith by the certainty of its answers to religious questions. They profess its power to make life meaningful and wholesome, to provide clear moral guidance and to offer a sense of spiritual redemption through Jesus Christ. "People are hungering for truth," says Contractor Calvin Beeler, who worships at a small Berean Baptist church near Charlottesville, Va. Baptist Susan Baker of Del City, Okla., who was widowed this year at age 25, testifies that faith pulls her through her grief: "I never do feel like I'm alone. It's like all the pieces have been put together."

Personal spiritual force often leads to political action at citadels like the Los Gatos, Calif., Christian Church. Pastor Marvin Rickard founded the congregation a quarter-century ago with 83 followers and an unshakable belief in inerrancy. Today a huge redwood-finished church sits on a trimly tailored 28-acre property, and 6,500 worshipers pack the three Sunday services. From this solid base, Pastor Rickard organized a referendum campaign that in 1980 helped repeal a Santa Clara County ordinance forbidding discrimination on the basis of sexual preference.

One of Rickard's parishioners, Lu Ryden, was elected to the San Jose city council in 1980 and last year successfully sponsored a law that required sex magazines to be placed behind opaque shields on newsstands. Says she: "We as Christians have stood aside and let other people make the rules. It got so out of hand, we said enough is enough." Another Los Gatos member, Police Lieutenant Richard Couser, 34, won a seat on the regional school board.