Saturday, May 15, 1999
Kirby: That Old-Time Religion Just Can't Compete With the Laz-E-Pew and the Hollywood Hallelujahs
BY ROBERT KIRBY SALT LAKE TRIBUNE COLUMNIST
Competition for church attendance is apparently a lot more fierce than it used to be. This is good. When it comes to saving souls, nothing works like a little capitalism. Or even a lot.
According to a news report, various faiths along the Gulf Coast are spending millions on new-style churches designed to appeal more to the masses.
The masses, of course, refers to a large percentage of Americans. People like you and me, people who would rather go rat hunting at the dump than spend a couple of hours listening to someone build up a head of steam about the Holy Ghost.
The old churches were fine back in the days when worshipping God was intended to be about as physically tolerable as having a brain tumor removed with a belt sander. You proved your love for the Lord with your suffering.
This pain was induced by the time-honored traditions of stained glass, droning choirs, muttered sermons and petrified wood pews. Three hours of this and it was hard to tell whether you were being uplifted or going insane.
Not anymore. The new-style churches are more suited to the modern American temperament. Well, OK, they don't have pistol ranges yet, but they do have grand stages, Hollywood lighting, plush seats and food courts.
That's right. In some places you can now attend church and listen to a parson holler at you about God while you kick back on a Laz-E-Pew. And don't worry about being able to hear. The church uses the same sound system as the Rolling Stones.
If you get hungry during the sermon, just slip on back to the food court for a Manna Burger, some crispy Martyr Tots and a 79-cent refillable Holy Gulp. If you want it super-sized, just ask for the Cup Runneth Over special.
After the sermon, enjoy the congregational water slide, see a movie or play a round of miniature gospel golf. The point is to have fun while performing your spiritual duty to God.
I'm in the wrong church. As a Mormon, all I have to look forward to by way of entertaining worship is a folding chair. If I'm lucky, maybe a connect-the-dots puzzle on the back of the ward bulletin.
Romans were probably the first to understand this need to jazz up religion in order to pull in a crowd. It didn't take them long to figure out that more people would pay to watch lions eat Christians than would pay to hear Christians preach. Nine times out of 10, so would I.
If you are waiting for an answer from God before deciding to visit one of these new churches, don't bother with listening to a still small voice. Not only are places of worship changing in America, so is the voice of God.
According to another news report, a series of holy billboards are getting some attention around Dallas. The billboards are a simple black background with white text. No fine print or sponsoring organization is included.
For example, one billboard reads: "Let's meet at my house Sunday before the game. Signed, God." Another says, "C'mon over and bring the kids."
And these:
-- "What part of `Thou Shalt Not . . . ' didn't you understand?"
-- "We need to talk."
-- "Keep using my name in vain, I'll make rush hour longer."
-- "Loved the wedding, invite me to the marriage."
-- "That `Love Thy Neighbor' thing . . . I meant it."
-- "I love you and you and you and you and . . . "
-- "Will the road you're on get you to my place?"
-- "My way is the highway."
-- "Need directions?"
-- "You think it's hot here?"
-- "Have you read my No. 1 best seller? There will be a test."
-- "Do you have any idea where you're going?"
-- "Don't make me come down there."
Salt Lake Tribune columnist Robert Kirby lives in Springville. The self-described "OxyMormon" welcomes mail at P.O. Box 684, Springville, UT 84663, or e-mail at dark@slckrck.com.
Page Modified May 15, 1999