Thanks to Gary Walsh and Linda Ward Selbie for the link.

Reposted from:
http://www.thestar.com/article/275393

`You don't have the church as gated community,' an author says of Canada. `Yet'


Mega churches "look like stuff you see on the outskirts of Toronto: small businesses or junior colleges, nothing ... reaching up to the skies."

Like so much in America that is branded, packaged, bought and consumed, religion – and the "sensation" of religion – is another commodity to be marketed, James Twitchell, a professor of English and advertising at the University of Florida, writes in his new book, Shopping for God: How Christianity Went From in Your Heart to in Your Face. He spoke to the Star from his home in Gainesville, Fl.

You argue that the increase in religiosity in the U.S. – the most religious country in the world – is spurred not by fears of war or terrorism, but by marketing. How did that happen?

We thought it important to separate church and state, which we did in our Constitution, which means from a marketing point of view; anyone with a program can get into the market and be protected by the state ... the wackiest, the noisiest, the most turbulent, will be rewarded.

Other cultures have a state supported monopoly supplier – the Roman Catholic Church in France, the Anglican Church in England or best yet, the Lutheran Church in Scandinavia. These are all suppliers, which have run out of steam. Inevitably, religion loses its pizzazz, because the state always screws up, and antagonisms toward the state get directed to the religion.

The most successful churches, you tell us, give believers an intimate and powerful experience with startling efficiency. Can you describe such a church?

Let's face it, all religions tell a story. The minute you hear a story, you should be thinking "feeling." Stories make us feel ... and religious stories can deliver an epiphany. I got interested in this when I wrote a book on luxury. Why would you buy a $500 handbag or a $300 scarf. Clearly, it's not the thing you're after, it's the sensation, which is also at the heart of all religion: "I found it. I know it. I'm special."

Does this help explain why people sometimes get emotional or weepy in church?

I'd see people coming from the parking lot to the church; they were very close to the audience in a rock concert. They wanted to be stimulated and to feel these feelings – that's why music is so crucial in any successful church. Music is the most demanding of emotional connections. That's why mega churches foreground the music – 80 per cent of the experience in mega churches is listening to music, often picked up from popular tunes; essentially singing and dancing along.

You observe that often these successful churches don't look like churches. They have auditoriums, not sanctuaries, and there is no religious iconography, not even a cross.

They look like stuff you see on the outskirts of Toronto – small businesses or junior colleges, nothing soaring or reaching up to the skies. They've been able to pick up the exaggeration of sensation from entertainment culture, especially the rock show – the event where you go to be blasted with drop-down screens and incredibly sophisticated sound systems.

The growing churches are trying to make a claim: We're not like the church that you remember. Don't look for those doleful images of the crucified Christ, don't think you're going to hear organ music, and especially don't think that when you pick up a hymnal, you'll hear those dreary, hard-to-sing 18th century songs.

We have big churches in Canada, but nothing like the full-service mega churches you describe. What are we missing?

You don't have the church-as-gated-community – yet. These churches are rehydrating, reformatting the highly nostalgic and powerful images of community – especially in Colorado, California and Texas, where there is a large transient population. They do more than two-hour, five-times-a-weekend services: They'll educate your child, and have athletic events and special groups for men.

Some even have car-repair groups, don't they?

The mega church got successful when they realized that women always want community and will bring their children. But men are the absolute lodestone to get one of these bursts of affiliation. It's in these small men's groups – like car repair, motorcycle riders, men having trouble with their jobs – these sub groups that address males concerns for male community. It seems the genius of these mega churches is they are able to get men's space protected – there are men's groups before your divorce is finalized, how to date in middle age. You'll see a startling number of young men there. Invariably, you'll see a music room, filled with electronic equipment for junior, the drums he can't play at home, and the electric guitar he can't afford.

The Pope has scolded his flock for being "cafeteria Catholics," picking bits of doctrine that suit them. So, whither Catholicism?

He's one of the few to come out against this – this seasoned-to-taste religion. (The Catholic Church) can move into English, we can wear different outfits, and we can have guitars, but one thing we can't have is a lot of variation inside the service. It's a monopoly supplier rather than a "scramble market" (derived from the Darwinian model. "When it's applied to religion, you have a market that rewards the loudest voice ...")

I'm surprised when I read statistics, which you present, that four out of five Americans say they have "experienced God's presence or a spiritual force."

It's part of this strain of American righteousness, but also American consumerism. If you've got the Louis Vuitton handbag, then I'll get one – there's very little you can have that I can't have. Consumerism is applied to the experience of salvation. It's ludicrous that 80 per cent of Americans have had this – a transforming, Joan of Arc experience – but it's part and parcel of, "If you've had an epiphany I'll have one."

So all I have to do is think I've had a religious experience?

It may not be the real thing, but who knows what the real thing is? It's part of that self-indulgence, that American righteousness. It's our president, the idiocy of our foreign policy, our idea that saying "You're right" makes you right.