What Jerry Falwell Jr. Taught Me at Liberty University (And It Wasn’t About Jesus)
Spoiler alert: It wasn’t about the sanctity of marriage, the evils of socialism, or the importance of staying away from “worldly” music.
Let me preface this by saying I’m not a religious scholar. I’m just a regular guy who spent a few years at Liberty University, a place where the air was thick with the scent of holiness (and possibly a hint of bleach from all the white shirts). But even without a doctorate in divinity, I learned a lot at Liberty, and I’m not talking about the history of the Reformation or the finer points of biblical interpretation. What I learned, my friends, was the art of the hustle, the power of branding, and the importance of never, ever, letting a good scandal go to waste.
You see, Liberty University, founded by the late, great Jerry Falwell Sr., was basically a giant marketing machine. They marketed everything: God, patriotism, tuition, even the fact that they had a football team that wasn’t terrible (though, let’s be honest, it wasn’t exactly Alabama). But the real marketing genius wasn’t Jerry Sr.; it was his son, Jerry Jr.
Jerry Jr. was the epitome of the American dream, albeit the “American dream” as defined by a reality TV show starring Donald Trump. He had the looks, the charm, the ambition, and, let’s be honest, the audacity to make Liberty University a household name. He took the school from a small, relatively unknown institution to a behemoth of evangelical education, with over 135,000 students from all over the world.
But then came the scandal. And boy, was it a doozy.
It all started with a photo posted on social media. Jerry Jr., with his pants unzipped, arm around the waist of a woman in a similar state of disarray. What was supposed to be a private moment, or perhaps a “just kidding” joke in a closed group chat, became a public spectacle. The photo, like a bad case of the flu, spread quickly, making its way to the headlines of every major news outlet.
And that, my friends, is where Jerry Jr. truly shone. He didn’t run and hide. Instead, he doubled down. He blamed the photo on a “blackmail” attempt, a “joke” that got out of hand, and a conspiracy by his enemies to destroy him. He even claimed, in a move that would make even the most seasoned spin doctor raise an eyebrow, that the woman in the photo was his wife’s best friend, and that the whole thing was a big misunderstanding.
The media frenzy was intense. The Christian world was in uproar. Students were confused, faculty members were terrified, and Jerry Falwell Jr. was, once again, in the spotlight. He became the poster child for the hypocrisy of the religious right, the embodiment of the “do as I say, not as I do” mentality.
But here’s the thing: even though the scandal was a colossal mess, Jerry Jr. still managed to turn it into a win. He used the media attention to promote Liberty University, claiming that he was a victim of a “witch hunt” by the liberal media. He even used the scandal to raise money for the university, claiming that the “attacks” on him were a sign of how “powerful” Liberty had become.
And guess what? It worked. Liberty University, despite the scandal, continued to thrive. Its enrollment numbers remained high, its fundraising efforts were successful, and its reputation, at least among its core constituency, remained intact.
Jerry Falwell Jr. taught me that even in the face of overwhelming evidence, a good narrative can go a long way. He taught me that branding is everything, and that even the most egregious scandals can be spun into a marketing opportunity. He taught me that, in the realm of evangelical politics, a little bit of hypocrisy goes a long way.
But most importantly, he taught me that in the world of politics and religion, the line between reality and perception is often blurred, and the truth can be a very flexible thing.
So, what did I actually learn at Liberty University? Well, it wasn’t about the history of Christianity or the importance of following the Ten Commandments. I learned about the art of the spin, the power of the media, and the importance of never letting a good scandal go to waste.
In a way, I guess you could say that Jerry Falwell Jr. taught me the ultimate lesson: that in the world of politics and religion, anything is possible if you’re willing to play the game.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find a good conspiracy theory to believe in.