Brothers & sisters, gather round; open your hymnals to the Book of Rank Hypocrisy, and let's talk about Reverend Jimmy Swaggart — one of the original televangelist televillains; a spiritual snake-oil salesman who made millions off the Gospel while preaching fire and brimstone with one hand, and hiring call girls with the other.
Jimmy Swaggart didn’t just fall from grace. He bungee-jumped off Mount Holiness with a wad of cash, a bevy of call girls, and a lying heart that knew how to separate rubes from their wallets. He profited from the image of Jesus while giving the middle finger to the words of Jesus. He was the walking, weeping embodiment of toxic American Christianity: thundering against sin from a marble pulpit built on sin.
This man didn’t just fleece the flock. He sheared them, smoked ‘em, and sold the wool as anointed prayer shawls for $99.99, shipping not included.
Swaggart was massively influential televangelist of the era and his TV ministry reached millions of viewers globally. At its peak, his weekly telecast was broadcast on over 3,000 stations and cable systems. He used his platform to influence politics, on issues like women’s rights, gay rights, and school prayer.
Swaggart talked about the menace of homosexuals. warned us about feminism. He was always angry at protests against racism; never managed to get angry at actual racism.
He didn’t preach about the poor. Or the sick. Or the imprisoned, or any of the stuff Jesus actually cared about. No, Jimmy specialized in Old Testament Rage with New Testament platitudes. Every sermon was a Broadway show called Jesus Hates What I Hate.
But he lived in a lavish mansion, which was proof that God approved of his work.
Now to be fair, young Jimmy was talented. He could play gospel piano like the Holy Ghost himself owed him rent. His music ministry complemented his preaching and contributed to his overall influence.
His cousin was Jerry Lee Lewis, and if you squinted, Jimmy looked like what would happen if Jerry Lee had majored in damnation and grifting in a three-piece suit.
In his prime, Jimmy’s “ministry” raked in half a million dollars a day. That’s not tithing — that’s a tax-exempt Ponzi scheme for the Lord.
And he was naturally gifted at attacking people he’d decided were evil.
Among his holy offerings:
-"I'm going to be so blunt and plain. Homosexuality is an abomination."
-"The Catholic Church, as it stands today, is the biggest, most deadly, most vicious, most bloodthirsty cult the world has ever known."
-"Rock music is the music of hell. It is the music of the devil. It's straight out of hell. It's as wicked as you can get. I'm against it 100 percent."
-"I've never seen a man in my life I wanted to marry. And I'm going to be blunt and plain; if one ever looks at me like that, I'm going to kill him and tell God he died."
Yes, friends, nothing says Christlike love like a death threat against someone who found you cute. Don’t worry, jimmy - you were never their type.
I grew up seeing this guy on TV all the time, as the blowdried evangelists of the 80s & 90s twisted Christianity for a generation. The Fundamentalist Christian media stars like swaggart always punched down. Always attack the poor, addicts, gay folks, or the Christian Refugees at our southern border. Forcing poor pregnant women to experience substantially greater poverty and greater risk to their health. Forcing teenage pregnant rape victims to let the government decide the rest of their lives.
Now this may shock you, but Jimmy Swaggart was involved in multiple sex scandals beginning in the 1988. He was famously caught with a prostitute, in a New Orleans hotel.
Which, you know, could happen to any of us if we trip and fall face-first into an escort on the way to a revival.
So he did what any good Christian would do, give a tearful confession and apology to his congregation, and return to relentless persecution of gay people. Y’know, to win back the trust of the good Christian folks.
He famously took to the pulpit. Eyes bloodshot. Voice cracking. Tears flowing.
“I have sinned against you, my Lord.” And America bought it. Because right wing Christians love a white male redemption story almost as much as they love ignoring the poor.
But don’t worry, he got caught again. In 1991, driving erratically with another working girl in the car, and porn under the seat. When asked to explain, he said:
“The Lord told me it’s flat none of your business.”
I’m not here to smear consenting adults. Remember, the sin that most annoyed Jesus was hypocrisy. Let’s not forget, just months before his first scandal, Jimmy Swaggart publicly crucified Jim Bakker for his own sex scandal. Called him a “cancer in the Body of Christ.” And he personally took down another preacher, Marvin Gorman, for adultery… right before Marvin hired a PI and caught Jimmy doing the exact same thing.
And again, these guys weren’t preaching the actual words of Jesus. They were swinging holy hammers in an amoral demolition derby for tax-free profit. They were feeding the illusion that you all are better than the others; because you’re giving money to me.
And yet, people kept sending money. Because Jimmy had charisma. He could cry on cue, holler like he was possessed, and whisper like the Holy Spirit giving stage directions.
He was less of a Christ follower and more of a Megachurch Macbeth: full of sound and fury, signifying donation envelopes.
Jimmy Swaggart helped build the template for today’s moralizing hypocrites.He helped turn Christianity — once the religion of the poor and oppressed — into a glitzy hate machine with a gospel soundtrack and tax-exempt status.
He made millions convincing people that gay rights, feminism, and secular music were the real threats — not racism, not poverty, not inequality, not injustice.He was the original Jesus-Free Jesus salesman: all shame, no substance.
And along with Falwell & Robertson, he was an atheist factory. A man whose every scandal and sermon pushed another curious soul away from organized religion and toward something more honest. Like agnosticism. Or cynicism. Or yoga.
Jimmy Swaggart didn’t die a poor man. He died in luxury, surrounded by family, servants of God, and probably more square footage than Jesus ever saw in his life.
And sure, he wept. Sure, he repented. But he never actually changed. He wept because it worked. The “guilt” was profitable. Because sin was sustainable — as long as it came with a catchy tune and a donation envelope.
So tonight, if you raise a glass for Reverend Swaggart, make it a toast to what not to be. Because whatever gospel Jimmy was selling, it wasn’t anything that brown-skinned homeless carpenter said in that book.
Jimmy Swaggart is gone. But the model lives on. Remember what he helped give us.
Every pastor who preaches hate while hiding secrets. Every megachurch that blames immigrants while ignoring hungry kids. Every televangelist screaming about drag queens while building a pool shaped like a cross.
Jimmy walked so the Joel Osteens, Franklin Grahams, and Mike Huckabees could fly — in private jets, over the suffering they’ll never touch.
Well said John! As Christopher Hitchens wrote, "... you can get away with anything if you have “Reverend” in front of your name."
Bet he didn’t leave his millions to any poor people or worthy charities. My comfort is Jerry Lee is laughing his ass off playing “Great Balls of Fire” as Jimmy’s escorted to Hell.