Jakes Fits 2 Worlds Under His Tent

Super-Bishop T.D. Jakes fits right in with the other gnawingly tele-familiar faces sprinkled through the Beverly Hills Four Seasons. In the last quiet minutes before the dinner rush, he lingers with the rest of the semi-incognito. Undercover Brother Eddie Griffin, in a bandanna, lounges on the terrace; Earth Wind & Fire bassist Verdine White, in a crisp cream suit and Jackie O shades, strides through the lobby. But Jakes doesn’t take note of them at all.

He has traveled from his home in Dallas to the center of the land of handlers and cell phones, accompanied by his own dark-suited entourage, a busy network of mobiles set on vibrate and devoted to “keeping Bishop on schedule.”

This stop, on the cusp of evening, is sandwiched between a morning at the Christian Booksellers Assn. International Convention in Anaheim and a Hollywood signing to promote his new book (the 26th!): “God’s Leading Lady: Out of the Shadows and Into the Light” (Putnam), the latest chapter of his attempt to heal women “broken” in spirit. He’ll take his message to Hollywood in an old-style tent revival.

Not just a super preacher in the old-fashioned sense--a man with a big church, bigger following and lots of spin--Jakes is a super-hyphenate, a televangelist-playwright-lyricist-life coach-author-CEO-husband-father-etc. Modern life is complex, and Jakes has addressed it by becoming conversant with myriad worlds and disciplines. Being a modern minister, he explains, means “being relevant and sensitive to the needs of the people that you are serving. And in order to do that, you have to do more than study Scriptures, you have to study people.” He settles into a plush chair for a quick dinner of Caesar salad and chicken. “I’ve just about cut my diet down to just chicken and fish,” he says, handing the waiter the menu. “Not for religious reasons, mind you. But for dietary reasons. Obesity reasons. I’ve gotta be able to fit in my suits!” He lets out a gust of a laugh.

Indeed, Jakes is a big man with a big reach and big voice that he plays like an instrument--he burnishes his vowels and purrs appropriate consonants, though not in an ostentatious way. Even his whisper has colors and texture. And a slight lisp adds softness.

This evening, his dress is as casual as his demeanor. In an oyster gray short-sleeved shirt and loose slacks, with matching gray ostrich-skin open-toe sandals, Jakes seems ready for a walk along the pier rather than a speaking engagement--and that has long been a key aspect of the charismatic style that led Time magazine to dub him the best preacher in America. It’s an approach that’s brought him steady success. In 1996, he moved to Dallas from his native West Virginia and founded Potter’s House, his multiracial, multidenominational dream church. In just over five years, it has expanded from a 50-family flock to a congregation of more than 28,000 named as one of America’s fastest-growing churches by Christianity Today. His live and internationally televised appearances reach tens of thousands each year.

Jakes--the T.D. stands for Thomas Dexter--keeps upping the ante. He has wired his “smart church” with Internet ports to download sermon notes, provides an in-house service that instantaneously translates pastor’s message into one’s language of choice and has installed a microwave dish atop the church that beams Sunday sermons to prisons in real time. Ministering to so many, Jakes has been big on constructing crucial comfort zones for his audience. “When it comes to spirituality--the culture of spirituality--there aren’t rights and wrongs, it’s just different shades of gray.”

In his 25 years at the pulpit, he has positioned himself as a “meet you where you are” sort. “You’ve got to look at the demographics,” he says, “tailor the message to the continuity of their need. And you have to be versatile enough to deliver it in a way that is palatable to that particular audience and not to be one-dimensional ....When your message is not relevant, people tend to drift away.”

Though social justice has historically been the hallmark issue of black church leaders, Jakes argues that many other arenas demand equal attention. “That isn’t to say that the original challenges do not exist. But there are additional issues that are so much more relevant to what our--African American--people are facing today. Developing family structures. Economic empowerment is a critical issue. Redefining families from the traditional idea of the mom, the pop, the 2.5 kids and the one-and-a-half car garage. That isn’t always our experience,” explains Jakes, who lives with his wife Serita and five children.

“It may be two sisters who have been divorced and they’ve moved in together and they have children. There may be blended families. There are Grandmamas and Big Mamas raising children. And those are issues in our community that we have to deal with.”

So his pastoral counseling came to include everything from credit and loan-management counseling to male mentoring programs. “I’ve seen life at its best or worst ... so you get a whole panoramic view of the needs of people.” But he has found one set of needs particularly resonant: those of women who live in spiritual isolation. “Many of them had deep scars and secret issues that they were unable to really work through and generally thought that they were the only ones who had ever gone through anything that horrendous,” Jakes says. “If they could meet each other and find out that they were not alone, that would be a great way to minister to them. And my job as a pastor was to provide biblical answers to sociological ills.” He found his focus with a Bible class of 40 women. “It was only supposed to be one class. But I didn’t finish, and I decided to carry it on next week, and the women seemed to really enjoy it--and brought lots more women. At that point, I thought: ‘Let’s go another week, I’m really on a roll.’ ” By the end of the month, Jakes recalls, “there were women standing outside to hear me talk about this subject that I didn’t even have a name for.”

That work morphed first into a book, “Woman Thou Art Loosed” (Albury Publishers, 1996), which sold 2 million copies, and then into a franchise of gospel musicals, lecture tours, CDs and more books--”The Lady, Her Lover and Her Lord” (Putnam, 1998), “His Lady” (Berkley Pub Group, 1999)--that aimed to help women heal emotional wounds left by physical or emotional abuse. “I had based it on the Gospel of St. Luke, Chapter 13, where Jesus had healed a woman who was infirm, bent over for 18 years and could not lift up herself. And he said to her, ‘Woman, thou art loosed!’ ”

Poised to offer the latest chapter of his healing saga--”God’s Leading Lady” (it appears at No. 8 on the New York Times’ list of advice bestsellers Sunday)--Jakes is quietly reflective as his limo snakes swiftly through post-rush-hour traffic. As twilight settles, he watches neon flicker on, the first wave of clubbers float by.

A white tent with a simple placard announcing “Tent Revival” comes into view. Stuck incongruously on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, the setup looks like a prop. Smiling, checking for lettuce, he does a last-minute scan in the mirror. “Years ago, I used to get nervous. My hands would shake so bad I wouldn’t even use a microphone. That’s why I tell people: You shouldn’t let fear stop you. You don’t know where you might go.”

There is something teasing and rich about bringing the message of “God’s Leading Lady” to Hollywood. “God’s leading lady does not require play-acting or pretending .... On the contrary, becoming a true leading lady requires stripping away all the other roles and bit parts you may have settled for and acted out before.” Jakes, in a way, is like an agent talking up a part that is waiting for just the right woman, a role that only she can fill when she is ready to go for it.

Emerging from the limo, Jakes is met by the rest of his traveling entourage and by a few members of the Sonset Ministry, the evening’s hosts, decked out in suits and dresses. He’s ushered into an air-cooled trailer that is set up next to the tent on the corner of Hollywood and Argyle. Jakes sips water. After casual chat, he turns to the small assembly, and says: “Let’s go in and enjoy the music.”

On stage a guitarist/singer, keyboardist and drummer work the congregation up. They clap, stamp their feet, raise their swaying palms. Jakes is escorted in rock-star style to a front-row folding chair. It’s humid as a Southern summer inside. Worshipers of all races, ages and classes stand shoulder to shoulder. And there are women. Women in skirts, twin-sets and Sunday dresses. In mumus and African bubus. There are models and students, actors and teachers--and even a pompadoured Elvis look-a-like has stopped in to hear the Word.

Pastor Scott Bauer, of the Church on the Way, introduces Jakes, who bounds up the riser to hoots, hollers and applause. He says he’s only going to talk for 10 minutes--but his setup for the book unscrolls into a gilded sermonette. Jakes begins pacing but not quite prowling the stage. He’s teaching, not quite preaching, but it is a taste enough to tip the crowd into high-praise mode. “Many times you are not ready to go ahead because you haven’t dealt with where you came from. You can dress up, paint a smile on your face and go out into the world but still be in the depths ... be in the shadows ... It’s time to arrive and shine!”

“Amen.”

“Jesus sat down at the well and waited. Now, I hate waiting, I’m not a patient person. But Jesus is. And he waited. He waited for one woman. Do you know how important you are to God? Jesus will wait for you to catch up to your desires and your purpose. He will wait for you to grow up and confess up.”

Oh-kaaay!

“Don’t be looking, wanting something from people that they just don’t have. Don’t be waiting for people to make you happy ... to fix us. God says, ‘I have a role for you to play.’ And it is unique unto you .... Develop yourself. This is soul food. Don’t enter into a relationship thirsty.”

His words reach out like a hug. Before he is finished, a line begins to whip around the tent’s perimeter. The eager stand with single copies open to the title page, waiting for their moment with Bishop. There are singers and ministers, recovering addicts and missionaries, all hoping for help on their path. Ninety minutes have raced by. He shares prayers, stops tears, reconnects with old friends--every one of them blessed by Jakes’ open gap-toothed smile.

Back in the limo, “Who was that Patrick Swayze look-alike?” asks one member of the entourage. “I dunno,” says Jakes sinking into the seat. “I never know who celebrities are.”

“Tell the story about Mary J. Blige!” someone shouts out.

“Or how about [musician] MeShell NdegeOcello ....” The pastor blushes even in the dark. “Didn’t know them. I knew Mary J. Blige’s name ... but not her face,” he defends, as the long car fills up with laughter. “Sometimes, I think that is why famous people come to me. I’m not star-struck. I spent most of my youth in a vacuum running my father’s kidney machine. So I missed out on a lot.” Nowadays, he ministers to many athletes and singers, politicians and actors. “I think they’re just tired of being manipulated. And with me, well, they can just work on what they need to.” But he is not immune to fame’s pull. Jakes hopes to put a cap on his day by catching at least a few notes of Patti LaBelle, who is performing at the West Angeles Church of God in Christ. As he climbs out and into the night, to see a leading lady in her own right, despite his long day there is a distinct spring to his step.