Among the Christian Booksellers: a convention junkie's report - Christian Booksellers Association Convention

Christian Century, Sept 27, 1995 by John D. Spalding

THOUGH I AM NOT an evangelical, I would not have missed this year's Christian Booksellers Association Convention in Denver for the world. What was I doing there? Perhaps I'd better begin with a confession: I am a book convention junkie.

There are thousands of us junkies in this country, and if you've ever been to meetings of the American Booksellers Association, the American Library Association or the American Academy of Religion, you've surely seen us. We,re the feverish, wide-eyed folk who drift glacier-like through the exhibit aisles in search of promotional freebies. Our weakness is free books, posters, buttons, pens, publishers, customized bags and food. We live for brief encounters with famous (and not-so-famous) authors and count it a personal failure when we can't wangle an invitation to an important party. I attended my first book show six years ago, and I've been hooked ever since.

This was my second CBA and, I must say, it is fast becoming my favorite convention. Not only does it offer an unparalleled array of bumper stickers, pins, refrigerator magnets, pencils, greeting cards and T-shirts, each embossed with a religious message, but it also provides "ample opportunities for spiritual refreshment," which this year included worship services, concerts and special events featuring such heavies as Chuck Colson, Pat Robertson and James Dobson, as well as the next tier of evangelical celebrities such as Josh McDowell, Chuck Bolte, Jack Hayford, Larnelle Harris, Susan Ashton, Michael W. Smith and Carman.

Each CBA has a theme, and this year it was "higher ground." "Whether you,re a rookie sales associate or a seasoned owner/manager," the brochure explained, "the CBA convention can help you soar as a professional bookseller." "Guaranteed to take your breath away," the convention boasted more than 300,000 square feet of exhibitors, booths and some 40 educational sessions designed to help Christian retailers make their stores the best they can be-"not in the name of the bottom line, but in the name of Jesus Christ." The accumulated effect was a "powerpacked six days aimed at taking you up to some seriously higher ground." And you can't find much higher ground than Denver. I had two nosebleeds my first day there.

Actually, Denver is the perfect venue for the CBA. Sure, it has its share of crime and racial problems but downtown Denver is as family-oriented and all--American as a city can hope to be. The shopkeepers sweep the streets (I witnessed this twice), the women wear make-up and paint their nails, and the men sport cowboy boots and hats. Families stroll the streets holding hands. Denver even has a new airport, a new baseball stadium (Coors Field, named after a beer), and there's a "Hooters" restaurant on the 16th Street Mall (which for some reason wasn't listed in the CBA convention guide). The general atmosphere of hospitality was so catchy that I found myself smiling and nodding inanely at total strangers.

BUT I had little time to linger downtown. My schedule was packed with CBA events, the first of which was the Evangelical Christian Publishers Association's annual banquet and Gold Medalli on Book Awards ceremony. The dinner drew hundreds of publishers, retailers and their families and was actually lots of fun--particularly after a few drinks. YoU have to grab an alcoholic drink elsewhere, however; the only drink served was a lime Kool-Aid concoction we called "bug juice" at summer Bible camp.

I was seated with a group of Christian publishers who regaled me with tales of their recent attempts to infiltrate China and Russia with Bibles. They spoke of visiting palaces and dignitaries. One executive had even met with Gorbachev. The conversation flowed nicely and our spirits were high until the food arrived--small portions of chicken royale and asparagus spears. I was pleased, but everyone else at my table stared at their plates in disbelief. Somebody finally broke the spell by suggesting Burger King afterwards. How these finicky folk coped with all those bland fish dinners they serve in Russia intrigued me, so I asked them about it. "The McDonald's in Moscow," one of them finally confessed.

For me, the big disappointment of the evening was that keynote speaker Elizabeth Dole did not show up, due, the announcer said, to a blocked artery. I'd been looking forward to the address, hoping she might shed some light on why she and Bob stopped attending the Methodist Church where the Clintons often worship. Strangely, none of the many prayers, blessings and supplications issued that night mentioned Elizabeth Dole's health. I guess the question on everybodys mind was, "Who will speak in Dole's place?" Ralph Reed? Newt Gingrich? Pat Buchanan?

Instead, they got best-selling author Max Lucado, who was, for my money, the most thoughtful and engaging speaker at the entire convention. Handsome in a way that TV news broadcasters and realtors often are, Lucado has all the charm of a true storyteller and the voice of a southern preacher, which makes perfect sense because, as pulpit minister of the Oak Hills Church of Christ in Texas, that's exactly what he is.