Brand Name Faith

Gone are the faith conversations of my youth. Back then, we were all Christians. The questions were about "what brand?" Lots of jokes revolved around church denominations. Brand religion still hangs on among the less acquainted, who speak "church" to religious functionaries. The language is about being baptized Methodist or wed by the priest (shorthand for Roman Catholic). But in public conversation, brands are nearly dead. More accurately, Christian has become one of the brands among Hindu, Baha'i, Muslim, Hebrew, etc.

At a recent family reunion, one of my nieces took me aside. She asked me to explain to her the bewildering variety of Christians about which she had heard. What makes a Baptist different from a Methodist, from an Episcopalian was her line of inquiry. I was enormously uneasy about this. It offered no avenue into the heart of faith. Faith as brand ignores the questions of the heart. It concentrates instead on superficialities, church attire. Much later it dawned on me that she was asking about brands. What a wonderful reflective moment we might have shared, had we thought a bit about the purposes and effects of a brand name culture.

Since then, I have been looking at branding as a feature in itself. Brands began as a sign of ownership. Early on, they are about possession. One brands a property. My cow, My beer, My buggywhip were the sine qua non of branding. Only later, when mass communication appeared a brand identified me. It is no longer my beer, but it is me! I not only use Budweiser, I am Budweiser. This shift produced great profits for those who held the trusted brands. (Naomi Klein, the Canadian writer has done a wonderful job of tracing the history of branding in her book, Logo, so I won't repeat her efforts here.) What bridges the transition from "brand as owning" to "brand as identity" is the intense focus on me, my and mine. Branding is the source of the cultural habit that everything "it is all about me."

As branding matured in the television age, it became a way to squeeze out the competition. Folks would pay more and seek out a brand simply because they knew they could trust it. The seamy side of the story comes when this trust shifts to identity. Then a brand becomes a bludgeon with which to club the competition. Branding narrows the market choices. It also narrows the human identity. Of course, political operatives soon discovered that same power. Parties, policies and candidates began to become part of the brand. Ad man H. R. Haldeman pioneered this approach in Richard Nixon's White House. It was he who branded Nixon the candidate of the Silent Majority, a dubious demographic. To one degree or another political campaigns in the mass media have been about brands. (eg Morning In America, Where's the Beef?) Fatally, they also came be be about a synthetic reality.

As I noted above, branding is no stranger to American Christianity. We have been branding from the very beginning. Some say that the population of the colonies rested on the free exercise of brands. (as long as they were Christian) Of late, Christian brand competition have become so complex that folks have begun to check out. Worse yet, it has created a bumper sticker shorthand and identity religion. Happily the superficial language of "faith as brand" is beginning to lose its grip on the public mind. That is a good thing.

Branding in religions is about creating division, limiting competition and finally market domination. By no stretch of imagination can any of these be the core mission of any faith. They are not virtues. As brands are now showing themselves to be a diversions in the commercial and political realm, religious brands are faltering too. Amid the rubble, hucksters of brand speak about the "rebranding" of failing products and ideologies. But the public sees the emperor walking around without naked. At last some sanity.

But we will still need information about products, politics and faith. George Barna, the guru of the religious focus group, recently noted, "Faith is increasingly viral rather than pedagogical."* The adage of faith, that it is caught not taught, may open a way to a new conversation on the subject. (I say may, because branding has made the public intolerant of conversation in sentences longer than sound bites.)

But this opening has breathed new life into our congregations We now can offer frameworks, skeletons, within which a search receive and interpret their faith can thrive. I can hardly wait to replace the "medical model" of faith (something you have to do that makes you better) to faith as collaboration. Such a shift holds great promise not only for the faith communities, but also for all who live around those who practice faith. At the very least, we can use a little respite from all the alternate realities that religious marketers have piled upon us in recent decades.




*www.barna.org/barna-update/article/12-faithspirituality/15-christianity-is-no-longer-americans-default-faith

The Least of These

for I was hungry and you gave me no food,
I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink,
I was a stranger and you did not welcome me,
naked and you did not give me clothing,
sick and in prison and you did not visit me.

I have been going door to door around neighborhoods encouraging folks to vote in the upcoming presidential election and, when asked, explaining the positions of the Obama Campaign for Change. I was assigned door to door canvassing in one of Battle Creek's affluent neighborhoods. The experience was quite an eye opener. I saw, unfolding before me, the surprising nexus of spirit and politics as clear as glass. I had expected that there might not be much enthusiasm for Barack in this very affluent neighborhood. One, after all, does not get to such affluence paying large tax bills and Barack has been painted as a "tax and spender." There was some of that. But there was a whole lot more gracious and welcoming folks of all sides of the political spectrum, grateful for one who cares enough to nourish the body politic with conversation. It is clear that grace and hospitality are not the property of one political party. A good and generous spirit is available in both.

I came across some other, rather disturbing conversations. A middle aged man railed against the distribution of "MY" wealth to the undeserving. "They ought to be left to starve," he exclaimed full of hyperbole. I was shaken by that encounter, wondering what was missing in his own life. There, poverty of spirit and brutal politics were partners. There were other stops. I came to houses that clearly were just keeping body and soul together. Shabby homes. Paint peeled on the outside. Holes in the porch shouted poverty. Inside was a free market economist. S/he worried about helping the poor while oblivious to the poverty into which s/he had fallen. "Let them make it on their own." I must say, I did not get it.


The climax of the Gospel of Matthew is in a vision of lasting things, concerns of ultimate importance. "Inasmuch as you have done it unto the least of these, you have done it unto me." The Gospel writer puts "concern for other" in the mouth of Jesus! It is the telltale sign of the faithful, or spiritual wholeness. I am left to ponder not that folks have political differences, but that those who seem to suffer most from their politics are those who are on the margin. . . the poor man who embraces the chance at ""hitting it big" or the overworked small businessman stretched to the limit and angry about it.

What comes first, the marginal lifestyle or the pinched and angry ideology? Who knows. In a great irony, it turns out that "the least of these" are those who hold the least of these in contempt, who are afraid to share what they have. Now that is the spiritual nexus of the Gospel. It was all I could do to recall that I was there to distribute political information to these tortured souls. There was a fertile field for Pastoral Care. That will be for another day and another time. For now, I bathe in the mystery of what it is to be human, grateful for its deep contradictions.

Door to door canvassing is a great way to take one's own spiritual pulse. There was that surprising generosity of the bulk of the affluent. There is hope for the "least of these." The sign in my yard this year asks, "Got hope?" Clearly there is a hunger for hope, some gracefully expressed, others in a brutal "cri de coeur."

Political and spiritual health are in such complex interrelationship. It is striking.

Apres moi, le deluge

Our capacity for justice makes democracy possible, and our capacity for injustice makes democracy necessary - Reinhold Niebuhr

It is equally illegal for rich and poor to sleep under bridges. - French Proverb

Louis XIV’s prescient words are the metaphor for our time. His reign as the King of France built the nation into an international power while simultaneously bankrupting it. Le deluge reminds us that the raw pursuit of power and influence have their costs. That seems to be the lesson of history and of recent politics.

The deluge came to mind as over 9 inches of rain fell on us over the weekend. While we live on a ridge, our front hallway was flooded, just on some of the runoff from the driveway. It was a cloudburst.

My attention soon turned to a contemporary deluge, a regieme fixated only on power and influence. It is the ultimate self defeating behavior in governance. That focus has failed to have any impact on the hurricanes, market collapses and wars of choice that have come our way. The failure of Louis XIV and of the current occupant are, at root, theological in nature. Each have rejected a balanced stewardship of the whole of a nation’s life as too complicated. They substitute simplistic power formulae in place of a solid understanding a complicated world. The Hebrew Prophets*, along with the ancient Greeks agree that our misguided aims can bring on le deluge. And the stakes continue to build. Global Climate Change will challenge our best efforts. But the ancients warned us of this sort of excess.

At bottom, we need to grasp reality “as it is” with all its complexity. It is not enough to be satisfied with our preferred formulae. A bipolar world of good and evil, simply cannot get its arms around the nuanced real life situations we face. It creates synthetic verities, truthiness as Stephen Colbert calls it. We need to pull our economy, the environment, our military forces and our politics back from the precipice.

The adage goes, “even a blind pig comes up with an acorn now and then.” Maybe we’ll get lucky this time.

*See especially the prophet Amos for a vivid description of contemporary politics.