The Reverend Billy Graham looked out at the more than 60,000 Christians who gathered Friday night to hear him preach at Flushing Meadows Corona Park and said he was “just as tense and nervous” as when he delivered his first sermon decades ago in north Florida.

After he’d dispensed with the niceties and preliminaries, however, his message to the weekend’s audiences, totaling nearly a quarter of a million, was pretty much the same as it was in 1957, when the evangelist packed Madison Square Garden for 16 consecutive weeks: redemption through Jesus Christ.

“No other city in America – perhaps in the world – presented as great a challenge to evangelism,” Rev. Graham wrote in his memoirs.

The message has mellowed a bit, from confronting sin to seeking fulfillment, and the messenger is bowed. Ill and having predicted that this was his last American crusade, Rev. Graham preached in a raspy voice, and while seated. He was no longer the haranguing, gesticulating prophet, but more the wise and inspirational counselor.

It is the faithful who have changed most of all. A look at photos of the 1957 crusade reveals men in suits, women in skirts, and only a sprinkling of racial diversity. Today, Christians witness via rock-concert-style T-shirts with such messages as “Friends Don’t Let Friends Go To Hell” and “Got Christ?” The weekend’s crusade was simultaneously translated into 20 languages.

Rev. Graham’s three sermons invariably began with topical remarks. On Friday he urged listeners to pray for the floundering Mets and Yankees baseball teams, and he noted that the United Nations had its first meetings at Flushing. On Saturday he noted an unusual alignment of the planets, mentioned the new “Star Wars” movie, and alluded to an interview with Madonna, in which the pop singer wondered about the purpose of life.

“We long to know what life is all about,” Rev. Graham said. “Or we live in denial. At the start of the new millennium, MTV counted down the top rock songs of all time. Do you know what no. 1 was?”

After a moment he told the audience, heavy on youth for what was billed as A Concert of Hope, that it was “Satisfaction,” by the Rolling Stones – a song perhaps more familiar to many of their parents. After quoting the lyrics, “I can’t get no satisfaction/ ‘Cause I try, and I try, and I try, and I try,” Rev. Graham noted, “But Jesus said you will find rest in him.”

Billy Graham has made a career of tailoring his message to new audiences around the world, and whether it was his contemporary allusions or, as President Clinton suggested, his fidelity over an epochal career, he was greeted in Flushing with an enthusiasm that could only be called rapturous.

As a special guest speaker Saturday night, Mr. Clinton said Rev. Graham was “the only person I know who I have never seen fail to live his faith.”

Rev. Graham returned the compliment, saying the former president and first lady are “a great couple” and adding, “I felt when he left the presidency he should be an evangelist because he has all the gifts and he’d leave his wife to run the country.”

It would be hard to fault Rev. Graham on his pledge to stay out of politics on this crusade, since he has shown at least equal affection in the past for President Bush. As an intimate of every president going back to Harry Truman, Rev. Graham is clearly someone who has enjoyed having access to those in power. Presidents have returned the affection, appreciating Rev. Graham’s appeal to millions across the nation.

It was those millions, the emblazoned-T-shirt Christians thirsting for salvation, who were Rev. Graham’s focus this weekend.

They were thirsting for water too, and the amounts available showed that the seamless garment could apply as much to Rev. Graham’s organizational team as to Christ’s tunic. A professional cadre of 30 working since Labor Day organized the crusade, coordinating 1,400 area churches from 80 denominations as they provided volunteers to do everything from constructing the facilities to serving as counselors for those who spontaneously decided to become born again.

Audience members, many attending from out of state, wandered the grounds in large numbers hours before scheduled events kicked off, forming lines for refreshments at the Lemon Ice King of Corona and Corn King that were nearly as long as the lines they formed for the King of Kings later. Others gathered hours early in the center of the main seating area, braving the heat to sing hymns together. Special areas were marked by signs for those needing translation – the Korean and Spanish sections seemed particularly populous. And two satellite sites were set up to hold thousands more worshipers once the main stage area filled up, sites where events could be watched on giant video screens.

Banks of water fountains had been constructed, and public-address announcements urged celebrants to keep themselves fully hydrated during the sweltering afternoons. Hundreds of portable toilets in banks of between 40 and 50 were located strategically, and in what must count as something of a secular miracle, there was rarely a line.

Billy Graham’s evangelical style of Christianity is all about witnessing, making a public affirmation of individual faith in the Lord, and one of the easiest and most popular ways to do that is with messages on T-shirts. “Sin Kills” warned one, with a skeleton’s rictus. Another: “Born 2 Raze Hell.” Another boasted membership in the Christian Motorcyclists Association with the motto: “Riding for the Son.”

Other uniquely Christian fashion accessories were on display as well. It seemed half the audience carried Christian-themed hand fans, and one man sported a leather belt-loop Bible tote, much as a workman might carry a hammer.

Security was tight, although police reported few troubles. Appropriate at a revival meeting was the presence of the Guardian Angels.

“We’re here to provide the atmosphere of security,” one red-bereted member, who identified herself as K.C., explained. “There isn’t much rowdiness.” She said group members, numbering up to a couple of dozen over the course of the weekend, had intercepted one covert beer vendor.

Less informal dissidence was provided by a few small groups of protesters, some of whom resent Rev. Graham’s middle-of-the-road politics and his refusal to condemn homosexuality. “We traveled here to tell these people that God hates fags,” a Topeka, Kan., woman, Shirley Phelps-Roper, said, holding a sign with the same slogan. “Anybody who goes in there with Billy Graham is going to hell.”

For most who attended, protesters were merely another colorful sideshow to a weekend that included costume drama for kids, Christian rock music for young adults, gospel tunes sung by George Beverly Shea, and hymns by the 285-voice Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir.

Saturday evening’s concert featured Christian rockers Tree 63 and Jars of Clay, as well as hip-hop dancers under Nicole C. Mullen. With kids allowed to approach the stage and giant MTV-style booms photographing the acts from a variety of angles for broadcast over giant Daktronics screens, it seemed for all the world like a typical rock concert, except when it came to the lyrics: “Look what you’ve done for me/Your blood has set me free.” Video testimonies of ordinary youth talking about avoiding temptation and hewing to the way of the Lord punctuated the live acts.

With all the emphasis on finding ways to communicate with youth, however, it was the aged Billy Graham they had come to see, and the meetings took on a special electricity when he sat in the pulpit to speak, sometimes seeming to ramble, sometimes speaking almost in parables.

He told a story about sharks’ attacking a drowning man, who needed outside help to survive. He told a story about a comically violent drunk forced to kiss a donkey. He talked about the time U2 front man Bono came to his house and composed a song called “Yahoo.”

“War does not increase death,” the preacher said. “We are all going to die. We have to be ready to meet death.”

“The greatest need in the world today is a transformation of human nature,” he told the crowd.

Finally at each crusade comes the moment Rev. Graham calls “the Decision”: when those ready to make a special commitment come forward, to be met by volunteer counselors who ask them to repent and pray, and give them literature. The Graham crusade is meticulous in counting deciders, and in following up on their initial religious progress. The numbers were 2,200 on Friday and 4,400 Saturday, according to the Billy Graham Evangelical Association’s Web site.

At the end of a concert or sporting event, spectators queue up at exits to leave. At the end of Billy Graham’s last crusade, thousands stood in small groups, counselors and people who had made the decision, praying and musing about the Kingdom of Heaven.

“June 25 – remember this day because this is the day you were saved,” a middle-aged counselor told a teenager. “You just made a reservation in heaven.”

“I just feel more comfortable, more assured,” 16-year-old Chris Choi from Port Washington, who had just made his decision, said. “A lot of my friends don’t know what this is about. You never get an opportunity like this.”