Rebranding Religion
ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN CANVAS MAGAZINE (JANUARY 2010)
With the help of marketing gurus and new technology, Christianity is getting a makeover. Churches are spending big bucks to create a smarter, sharper, more liberal image. Will it be enough to fill the empty pews, asks Jehan Casinader
A hip-hop dance crew thunders into a high school assembly hall. As they dance, music by the Black Eyed Peas and Michael Jackson thumps from the PA system. After the performance, the dancers give away a new pair of skate shoes to one lucky student. As the classes leave the assembly hall, they’re treated to a sausage sizzle and plied with giveaways, while music is played across the courtyard. The students are keen to take advantage of the hospitality, but there’s no such thing as a free lunch.
This is a recruitment drive for Arise Church, one of many new evangelical churches which are using savvy marketing to build a brand and find new followers. Arise holds its services in Wellington’s Michael Fowler Centre and TSB Arena. The church books out restaurants for groups within its congregation to have dinner. It presents big-name speakers, flown in from around New Zealand and overseas. Arise uses online media to promote its programmes, which have catchy names like Elevate, Ignite and Huge.
The number of Kiwis with no religion has increased by 60 percent since 1996. In the face of that grim statistic, churches like Arise are desperate to spice up Christianity’s tired image. Religion, it seems, is being re-branded. Dusty pews and dull liturgies are being replaced with modern convention centres, whiz-bang media shows, and worship music by celebrity Christian bands. ‘Meek and mild’ is out. ‘Loud and proud’ is in. But even if churches attract new flocks, what will happen if the PR power runs out?
“I’m actually not sure that religion needs to be re-branded,” says 28-year-old Asher Bastion, director of Christian youth radio station Life FM. “The younger generation of Christians are trying to get to the core of Christianity. They’re not so interested in the branding. In fact, they want to get past the shiny, flash stuff, and learn more about the basic elements of Christianity. Just because you put the word ‘Jesus’ in a cool font, that doesn’t make it any more appealing. The church has to seem real to people.”
It’s 5:30pm on a Sunday night at Wellington’s Michael Fowler Centre. On the stage, 13 good-looking band members provide a rock number to kick off a service for Arise Church. Six hundred young people are on their feet, both hands in the air, swaying to the music. With the help of a smoke machine, the auditorium is swathed in blue and pink spotlights. Three live cameras project the action onto a main screen. It’s a slick operation, with plenty of people power: an usher briskly instructs us where to sit.
Nadia Marychurch was 16 years old when she joined Arise, shortly after its creation. She had come from a non-Christian family and found Arise appealing. Seven years later, at 23, she is the church’s “creative manager”, with responsibility for the overall look and feel of Arise, which also employs a designer. The church’s tagline: “A rising generation, changing the nation, empowering the church, reaching the world”. With more than 2000 members, many of whom are under 35, Arise’s brand is paying off.
“God is often portrayed as an angry man with a big stick who wants to hit you when you sin,” says Marychurch. “We want to break those perceptions. Marketing is part of that. We have the best sound engineers and designers; we have awesome lighting and sound rigs. Church can be cool and upbeat. We’re creating a fresh, fun environment. We’re not just a bunch of old people who have no clue what they’re going on about.”
Type “Jesus” into YouTube. The search engine simply says there are “millions” of hits. But some argue that churches must be kept separate from the commercial world. Are today’s image-conscious churches selling out by embracing the media? Perhaps they have little choice. They are, after all, competing for our attention. In December, St Matthew in the City angered some of its own members, by launching a billboard depicting Joseph and Mary in bed, under the tagline: “God was a hard act to follow”.
In fact, our outrage about religion-themed billboard campaigns isn’t new. In 2008, the billboard which received the most formal complaints was a Tui creation, bearing the slogan: “Let’s take a moment this Christmas to think about Christ. Yeah right”. The company took down the billboard after a public fuss, but went ahead with another one which said: “Sure, I’ve got ten minutes to talk about Jehovah. Yeah right.” Hell Pizza has also caused controversy with advertising campaigns tied to the seven deadly sins.
But the St Matthew’s billboard furore pales in comparison to stunts that overseas churches have pulled, in an effort to boost their numbers. An association of British churches ran a “revolution” themed advertising campaign at Christmas, with posters depicting Jesus as Che Guevara, asking the public to “celebrate the birth of a hero”. A Connecticut pastor wrote a Christmas rap song, and bought radio airtime to play it. PR expert Deborah Pead reckons New Zealand churches will soon try similar tricks.
“Christianity is perhaps the most successful marketing campaign we have ever seen,” she says. “It has lasted for thousands of years. It’s evolved, but it’s changing. When I was growing up as a young Catholic, we were told not to question anything. Today, we tell our kids to question everything. Our population is more educated and more discerning than ever, and that makes it much harder for the church to sell Jesus.”
“Sell” Jesus? Sounds like sacrilege. The St Matthew’s billboard used sexual innuendo to get its message across. Overseas, many churches seem confident enough to use sex to catch people’s attention. The United Church of Canada has just launched a $10.5m advertising campaign, with taglines such as, “How much fun can sex be before it’s a sin?”. A Tennessee pastor made international headlines after mailing out 50,000 pamphlets labelled “Red Hot Sex” to advertise a sermon about married life.
The list of marketing ploys is endless. It’s all chronicled on a website called “Church Marketing Sucks”. It includes blog posts with titles like, “Using whipped cream and gay marriage to start conversations”. But the internet is also full of church marketing “toolkits”. Kiwi churches seem to be taking that advice. Elim Church hired Catch, a top design agency, to create a “unique, cutting-edge and international” website. Its pastor has a blog and a Twitter page. His sermons can be downloaded as podcasts.
“The Bible says we should be ‘in’ the world but not ‘of’ the world,” says Christian musician Nathan King. “We face the reality of the internet, marketing and PR, but you can’t be sucked into it. It’s tough. Churches are probably tempted to say ‘We’re the best, come to us’, but you’re walking a very fine line. You can start to compare and compete; you may start to over-hype yourselves. I don’t think that’s healthy.”
King is a familiar face at the annual Parachute Music Festival, which has played a vital role creating a new image for Christianity. It began in 1987, at a time when rock music was still frowned upon by many churches, and the Christian music scene was almost non-existent, except for a few tame, timid worship bands. The first festival drew 3,000 people. Last year, it pulled 100,000; more than twice the crowd size of the Big Day Out. It’s the world’s biggest Christian music event outside the United States.
Parachute is a prime example of how the Christian world and the commercial world have converged. Despite being a religious event, it is sponsored by mainstream media such as C4 and The Edge, as well as Coca-Cola and Streets Ice Cream. The organisers have convinced secular companies to sponsor a Christian event. Deborah Pead says that’s because Christian groups “are now competing within a consumer culture”.
Some musicians have refused to play at Parachute because they’re afraid it’ll damage their mainstream image. Others, such as Brooke Fraser and Daniel Bedingfield, have launched their careers there. Christianity is benefiting from the star appeal of popular musicians such as Dave Dobbyn and newly-crowned Australian Idol Stan Walker, who are willing to talk openly about their faith, along with sports stars like David Tua, Irene Van Dyke and Michael Jones. Nathan King is comfortable with that.
“Am I happy to use my name to promote God?” he asks. “Yes, of course I am. Some Christian artists used worry about what people would think of them. That’s changed, but even today, you have to be up for the challenge of being known as a Christian. But for any young person who has a real experience with God, they’ll realise why they had been ‘marketed to’. It’s not for the sake of marketing at all. It’s genuine.”
Judi Gibson is living proof that church marketing can work wonders. She was 19 when she saw a billboard on the back of a Baptist Tabernacle which read, “Jesus said, ‘I am the way, the truth and the life’”. The billboard led her to Christianity. In 2005, she and husband Greg launched Godmarks, an advertising campaign which uses pithy, witty slogans on public billboards to get people to have a chat with God.
Godmarks’ slogans have included: “I don’t mind if you yell at me, at least we’re talking”, and “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t hate anyone who’s gay.” Last year, the campaign was recession-themed, using the line: “I’ve been forgiving people’s personal debts for ages”. Each billboard catchphrase is signed off by “God” or “Jesus”. A new batch of billboards and adverts will be produced later this summer. After five years, Gibson says the advertising campaign isn’t running out of puff.
“The church has loosened up in the past few years. Some people take themselves less seriously than they once did. But, for many years, people have been turned off by the church’s judgmental and separatist thinking. We want people to consider God in a more positive light, with billboards which are clear, simple and non-threatening, with a bit of humour and a bit of a twist. The technique isn’t new, but it still works well.”
The churchgoers of yore often had good manners, sensible clothes and a slightly sullen demeanour. Hardcore evangelists were described as “Bible-bashers”. Today, the picture seems much rosier. Fire and brimstone has been exchanged for positive psychology. The emphasis is on fun and prosperity. No longer can churches afford to alienate non-believers. These days, their message is softer, more palatable, and more accessible. Christian television, magazine and radio programmes are more common.
But Christians have long blamed the corporate world for hijacking religious festivals like Christmas and Easter. The benevolent St Nicholas was transformed into a slick Santa Claus by Coca-Cola marketers in 1931. The company takes credit for creating the modern-day image of Santa. But rather than fighting commercialism, the churches are now embracing it. Arise Church’s Christmas flyer featured a cartoon of Santa, and a promise that he would meet kids who turned up to church on Christmas Day.
Newcomers to Arise Church are given a bar of chocolate and a pen. They’re invited to a course to learn more about Christianity and the church. And there’s plenty to get involved in, from beach parties to picnics. There’s a cost involved: on each seat in the auditorium is a ‘giving’ envelope. Plastic pot-plant containers are passed around during the service to collect the money. Plenty of people are willing to contribute.
“If a young person sees one of our cool flyers, they’ll come to church and give it a go,” says Nadia Marychurch. “But at the end of the day, it’s not about the marketing; it’s not about the show. We need to help people through their difficult times, invite them into our homes, and connect with them. After all, that’s what church is about.”
Hosanna World Harvest Church in Manurewa runs Stomp, an annual hip-hop dance competition with a twist: 75 percent of the material in each group’s performance has to be Bible-based. Some boogie down in the Garden of Eden; others reinterpret the Great Flood. Last year, the competition drew a crowd of 4,500. The church says it uses hip-hop to reach the community, but there’s an added sweetener: a prize pool of $30,000, which will rise to $100,000 in the future, according to Pastor Chris Sola.
“The huge prize money attracts more dance crews, which attracts bigger crowds,” he says. “But we’re not here to make money. We’re here to give life-changing messages. In the past, we’ve run ‘Christian’ events, but they’re only filled with Christian people. We end up preaching to the converted. But these days, the church has to be more contemporary and think outside the box to captivate a non-Christian audience.”
Traditional church buildings used for Sunday mass are often left empty during the week. But the newer churches want people there during the week as well. Last year, City Impact Church built a large Auckland complex which includes a café with alfresco dining for 300, a gym, dance studio and television suite. Wellington’s Rock Church runs Zeal, a youth venue which hosts music competitions, dances, DJ training, computer tuition and leadership courses. It’s about making church more personable.
It’s a far cry from the brick-and-mortar churches of old, but today’s churches say they want to be more visible and more versatile. Life Church’s Mangere branch sits on a 16-acre site which has an 800-seat auditorium, a 1500-seat “recreational dome”, a 2100m² studio and a sports field of Goliath proportions. The church invites groups to hire its venues for conferences, gatherings, product launches or Christmas parties.
If the modern church was a gadget, perhaps it would be called Church 2.0. It’s a new model, with more bells and whistles; more buttons to push. It’s more interesting and more attractive. Forty percent of New Zealanders have never used it. For churches, that’s an untapped market. But even if the pews fill up in the short term, Christianity may be re-branded again in the future, to keep up with another wave of changes in pop culture and the media. Perhaps, by then, God will have his own Facebook page.
“We’re not called to fight any ordinary fight; we’re called to fight the good fight of faith,” shouts Pastor Sam Monk as the Arise service comes to an end. Yes, the church has a fight on its hands. But as the band begins to play, and the rainbow spotlights and smoke machine are activated, many of the audience members get up from their seats and run to the bottom of the stage, where they begin to dance. You get the feeling that, just maybe, the savvy Church 2.0 could make Jesus Christ a superstar again.
