Reflecting over the amazing arc of his ministry, the Reverend Billy Graham wrote, “I know that my life will soon be over. I thank God for it, and for all He has given me in this life. But I look forward to Heaven.” On Wednesday, his wait was over. Nine months shy of his 100th birthday, America’s pastor went to enjoy the one thing he cared most about: eternity.

An ordinary man with an extraordinary calling, Billy Graham was as comfortable in the halls of power as he was in the mud huts of Africa. To both, the message was the same: Jesus died for your sins, repent, and give your life to him. A living, walking manifestation of the Great Commission, no man was more willing to carry the gospel to willing hearts. The times may have changed, but Billy Graham did not. Through the world’s greatest challenges — segregation, war, poverty, scandal — people took comfort in the powerful and unassuming presence of one of history’s greatest evangelists. A fixture through 12 administrations, Billy Graham never let race, party, age, or stature get in the way of deepest conviction: that Christ loves and died for us all.

“I’ve been asked, ‘What is the secret?’” Graham said of his preaching. “Is it showmanship, organization, or what?” The secret, he told them, “is God.” “I would be nothing without Him.” No country was too far, no region too dangerous, or obstacle too high to keep Billy Graham from carrying the hope of Christ to the lost. He was the brightest of lights in the darkest of corners.

I never had the chance to meet Billy Graham personally, but, like so many generations, I grew up under his influence as he took evangelicalism mainstream — opening the hearts and minds of people with the gospel. In many ways, he helped lay the foundation for the so-called religious Right, always relating current events back to God’s timeless truths. Whether he was speaking to thousands in New York City or to neighbors at the dinner table, Billy Graham was a gentle and uncompromising voice for truth. In a deeply divided nation, he was proof that we can love and live and serve as one.

“I’m not even a very good preacher!” he would exclaim to James Robison. In many ways, the man who brought millions to Christ with his deep compassion and sincerity never knew how famous and influential he was. Perhaps now, in heaven, surrounded by the millions of people brought to salvation through his obedience, Rev. Graham will finally understand what the rest of the world already does — his greatest ministry wasn’t the words he said but the life he lived.

In my view, what makes a person great is not so much what they built or what’s behind them. Their legacy is what’s yet to come — not just in eternity, but here on earth. To me, the testament of a great man is faithful children. I’ve had the privilege to not just know but co-labor with Franklin and Anne. Psalm 127:4 says, “Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, so [are] the children of one’s youth.” A wise man will attend to those arrows and walk with integrity before his children, so they’ll know that his faith is real. Billy Graham lived with integrity, he finished well, and he leaves behind a legacy for those coming after him whose influence will only be magnified. May they take comfort in the joyous moment it must have been when Dr. Graham finally heard the words he longed years to hear: “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Originally published here.

In God Schools Trust

America has been successful at keeping God out of schools, but not guns. And that irony isn’t lost on leaders in Arkansas, who are desperately trying to put positive influences back into classrooms. If there was ever a time to put a simple reminder like “In God We Trust” before students, it’s now. While Florida families mourn the loss of 17 young lives, maybe it’s time to rethink what messages we’re teaching our teenagers.

In Arkansas, the idea was simple: Require schools to put up “In God We Trust” posters. The bill sailed through the state legislature, passing 78-1 in the House and 28-2 in the Senate. Rep. Jim Dotson (R) thought it wouldn’t just be an opportunity to honor America’s heritage but also “provide students with a good conscience while in school.” “We all know of instances in recent events where our culture of violence is being shown all around, and I think it’s something that hopefully students will be able to see on the walls and know that our country was founded on something better.”

As a show of support, local American Legion posts have raised money to pay for 1,000 framed posters in one school district, and others are lining up to donate more. As usual, the American Atheists are pitching a fit that children might be exposed to the word “God,” something they could certainly stand to hear more of, if the latest headlines are any indication. “Rep. Dotson and groups who have pledged to donate these displays have been quite clear about their purpose: injecting religion into Arkansas’s public schools.” Well, I hate to break it to them, but God’s already there. Unless these kids check their purses and wallets at the front door, He’s on every dollar they have.

As for putting the motto out where everyone can see it, the Supreme Court has said time and time again that there’s absolutely nothing wrong about it. The motto isn’t an endorsement of religion, the court said, but a “statement of optimism” about America’s heritage. If you want to protect kids from something, try the schools’ graphic sex-ed curriculums or propaganda of those trying to deconstruct society and the family that’s paraded through our schools. Those are the real destructive influences.

At a time when more schools are war zones than classrooms, surely we can all see the good of pointing kids to the fact that there is a God to whom we will all give an account — including the atheists who work night and day to fight someone they say doesn’t exist. For everyone else, maybe we should ponder the possibility that by letting God back in we might keep the violence out.

Originally published here.

This is a publication of the Family Research Council. Mr. Perkins is president of FRC.