Dr. "Holy" Hubert Lindsey

My friends and I were both delighted and disturbed by this show. It was fun to listen to the inane exchange and mutual condemnations over irrelevant topics, or to see how far the pranksters could get before Bud cut the line. It was also disturbing, however, when people with serious questions were rebuffed or got drawn into Hubert's peculiar religious beliefs. Even worse, I felt, were situations where people reacted negatively to Christianity because of the way that the Doctor presented his faith: anger, condemnation and general cantankerousness.

Dr. Lindsey made a number of outlandish claims on his radio broadcast with regard to his preaching ministry. He said that he had been a preacher for over sixty years, pasturing numerous, large churches in various parts of the country, and had written quite a number of books. He had preached to the hippies during the 60's at a number of West Coast colleges and universities, "bringing thousands of them to Christ." Inner-city drug-dealers, bikers, homosexuals and other deviants owed their lives to his ministry. Over 40,000 Jews had been saved after receiving his message. He suffered innumerable beatings, and was blinded by a gang of Hell's Angels, who later "each received Christ." He had personally ministered to presidents, statesmen, executives, celebrities, and even Billy Graham had come forward and accepted Christ at one of his early tent meetings. He boasted of having a large and growing church in a Detroit suburb, and that the Lord had taken care of every one his personal and financial needs.

Even more peculiar than his personal claims to fame were his doctrinal beliefs. He said that he didn't mind the moniker "holy" given to him by campus radicals, because "all Christians are holy -- they do not sin;" not in any measure, nor in any sense of the word. He said that water baptism was "not for the New Testament Church," and sought to apply much of the Mosaic Law to contemporary Christians. Listening to Hubert was like going to one of the ethnic-food festivals, then not being sure afterwards what sample it was that made you ill.

So concerned was I, of the potential impact of his "ministry" on those innocent 2 million souls within the range of his radio broadcast, that I talked two friends of mine, Sonya and Rachel (sisters) into going with me to check out his church. He gave out the address every week: 777 Bowers, Royal Oak. We donned outlandish Punk disguises, and set out to find the church one Sunday evening. It wasn't easy. Apparently picked for its "spiritual" address, the Cathedral turned out to be a converted maintenance garage. We parked a block away, then walked over and sat near the back (in the folding chairs). About fifteen people finally showed up, most of them looked like low income (maybe they were in disguise, too). They all seemed very friendly. Maybe a little too friendly. A blind guy went forward and played the accordion. A few songs were sung. Dr. Hubert got up and gave a long, boring message that really didn't say enough to disagree with. Final prayer. One last song. We prepare to sneak up, when Bud, the moderator (I recognized him by his voice) asked us to go forward to meet Dr. Lindsey. The door looked blocked, so we agreed. Son of a gun, he really was blind! We spoke to him in our normal voices, and briefly exchanged something about faith and his message. The conversation probably would have gone differently he could have seen how we were dressed. It must have been a strange sight; I'm sure that our manner of speech didn't match our appearance. Finally, the door clears, and we make a break for it. I'm certain that we were the first one to leave, and we quickly get to the car and take off. But the story's not over yet.

We decide to find a restaurant so we can talk over the events of the evening. Once we had figured out where we were (I had sped off rather quickly, and made a number of confusing turns), we decided on an A&W about 6-7 miles distant. No sooner had we gotten our food and sat down, but guess who enters and sits at the very next booth, but Bud and Holy Hubert! They didn't seem to notice us. It was too weird. They couldn't possibly have followed us, but how could they just happen to pick the same restaurant? I went over and said, "Hello," but the situation seemed awkward, and only a few words were exchanged. We hastily ate and left, making certain that we were not followed a second time. I'm still not sure what to make of that event. Was I supposed to try to talk to him? Was he supposed to rebuke me? Were we both inexorably drawn by the curly fries?

Realizing that Holy Hubert was not a threat to the general population put my mind more at ease when listening to his program. Also realizing the powerful role of humor as a tactical weapon, I did not hesitate to provide my friend Don with inane question which he used to aggravate the Doctor. We'd call in and ask things like, "If the Bible says that 'our sins will be made white as snow,' is the reason that we didn't have snow for Christmas this year because of the sinfulness of the people of Detroit?" "No, not at all," he'd answer, before Bud cut us off. I even made a few calls myself. Thanks, Don, for making the tapes.

Later, Hubert moved to another station on Saturday afternoons, which conflicted with my Bluegrass listening schedule. Apparently he had a stroke in 1990, and has been shuffled off to a number of nursing homes. He seems to have been abandoned by his West Coast converts as well as his family. There's more info at the links, below. I wonder if he regrets not having been a bit friendlier?