If we can think of the local fundamentalist pastor as a sort of Major General in the Lord’s army, then the fundamentalist Evangelist is rather like a bomber pilot who is called in to drop an explosive load and then flee the scene at top speed. Or he would be like that if bomber pilots stuck around long enough to collect a love offering from their targets before skedaddling.

The job of the fundevangelist is three-fold.

First there is the entertainment portion in which the evangelist plays a weird instrument, does a ventriloquist act, performs Gospel magic, or splits a watermelon on the assistant pastor’s stomach with a sword. In fundy evangelism showmanship is a must. It’s not enough to quote the entire book of Romans from memory — It must be done standing on one foot and juggling hymn books or there’s no point.

Second, the evangelist’s job is as teller of folks tales: this is known as “speaking evangelistically.” These includes the famous evangelist fish story and stories of revival meetings that were planned for a week and were so spirit-filled that they ended up lasting two months. The ability to spin a good yarn is paramount.

Last of all, the speaker is there to root out the seeds of corruption, sin, and worldliness in the church. If the church isn’t particularly sinful or worldly the evangelist may be called upon to invent new and creative sins to prick the collective conscience of the congregation such as informing everyone that a man parting his hair in the middle is a sign of latent homosexuality or that owning unicorn statues will invite demons to take up residence in your living room furniture and hide your car keys.

And for all this work the evangelist is awarded love offerings from the fundamentalist church congregation. It’s not bad work if you can get it.