Customer Reviews

Shopping for God

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"This is not a book about God" (p. 1).

Thus begins James Twitchell's book, Shopping for God. "Essentially, this book is about how religious sensation is currently being manufactured, packaged, shipped out, and consumed" (p. 3). It is about "... buying and selling..." the religious experience. "...[We] are doing a robust business in supplying valuable religious experiences for shoppers at reasonable prices" (p. 2).

Sam Harris and others might counter that this price is too high, but that's a subject that can reviewed in their books.

Twitchell uses a lot of examples in this well-written book. He brings up the evolution of the religious braggart in the entertainment industries (note Mel Gibson's impact with The Passion of the Christ). He discusses the development of the Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson types (did Robertson really state of liberal professors, "They are racists, murderers, sexual deviants, and supporters of Al Qaeda -- and they could be teaching your kids" (p. 8)).

Radio, television, books, and the internet... these are all fertile ground for the planting of of the seeds of religious dogma. "Just about every American -- 96 percent, in one poll -- believes in God" (p. 22). Twitchell proclaims that there are over 2000 religious groups in America today.

And there is extreme competition for market share.

People are shopping, and religions are branding. Twitchell discusses the marketing strategies in this Church Growth Movement. There is competition for your soul.

Here's an example that I missed: the United Church of Christ's infamous "bouncer" campaign in 2005. The television ad goes like this. All types of people are denied entry to a church by a tough bouncer. Fade to black. The a narrator states "Jesus didn't turn away people. Neither do we" (p. 160).

Mormons, Lutherans, Baptists, Episcopalians -- even Unitarian Universalists (the Uncommon Denomination... we're here if you need us, but we're not going after you) -- they all have marketing campaigns.

This evolution of marketing programs has led to the development of Megachurches. Twitchell discusses these, and their growth, in some detail.

Twitchell concludes, "How religion allows us to make either meaning or mincemeat out of this shrinking world remains to be seen" (p. 291).

Apatheist -- that's what Twitchell calls himself ("... a disinclination to care all that much about one's religion and an even stronger disinclination to care about other people's" (p. 33)).

This was an interesting, not so flattering, overview of the religious world we live in in America. We line up to belong. I have no idea whether people pretend to believe, try to believe, or truly believe. Twitchell just argues that it seems like every time you turn around, someone is throwing it in your face. And nobody seems to be complaining.

As Rod Serling might say, ""There is nothing wrong with your television set..." Our minds are not our own.

Twitchell's book is part history, part analysis of our present situation. He uses a lot of examples from the course of the church's history to show different ways in which the church has tried to market itself. Of course, he notes that for most of its 2000-year existence, it hasn't really felt the need to compete as it was the only show in town. Still, he details the Catholic church's sale of indulgences and icons that led up to the Reformation, and notes that these sales were primarily sales of an experience. If people wanted to experience grace and forgiveness; to experience some kind of emotional high, this was how they could purchase it.

Twitchell also spends some time with more recent trends as he details his theory of selling an experience. He especially details the techniques of revivalist Charles Finney, who would purposefully seat his most exhuberant audience members up front (the "anxious bench") so that others would see them and be caught up in the moment. This was a technique that exploited herd mentality and emotionalism, but also employed the technique of urgency: implying that you don't want be the last to convert; that it's for a limited time only. All of these techniques, Twitchell argues, are used by many churches all over.

Twitchell spends a lot of time talking about church "branding." Essentially, he says, churches are trying to sell a story and an experience and less the message of salvation. That comes later, but first the experience has to rope people in and give people a sense that this experience is better than the experience they'll get elsewhere. Similar to Finney's revival tactics, Twitchell argues, people will first look for how good a particular church makes them feel. Is the congregation welcoming enough? Is the music moving enough? Is the sermon passionate enough?

That, he notes, is what branding is. He makes lots of comparisons to other products: you have a choice of half a dozen dish soaps and they're all essentially the same...it's the brand that people are buying, not the product itself. So when churches try to "brand" themselves, they're trying to differentiate themselves from others. So they come up with slogans, they may emphasize how welcoming they are or how exciting they are, they may talk about how they aren't your father's church or that they're church for people who don't like church, and always with subtle or overt digs at other churches. Most of these churches are pretty much the same, he argues, so they need to emphasize their brand over others.

No one escapes scrutiny in this book. Twitchell analyzes the megachurch's mastery of being the Church That Feels Good and being the big box church that offers what the small Mom and Pop church can't. And in a bit of commentary on post-denominationalism, Twitchell notes that megachurches provide the "generic brand" of church. When people feel less of a tie to a brand (Methodism, Lutheranism, etc.), they'll "trade down" to the product that works just as well and makes them feel just as good, but maybe less expensive.

And mainliners get a lot of commentary, too. Twitchell's exploration of "church branding" maybe even comes down the heaviest on them, because in this new competitive marketplace, mainliners haven't done enough to differentiate themselves from the pack. He does note recent attempts by many mainline denominations to advertise and brand themselves, such as commercial campaigns by the United Church of Christ and United Methodists. His basic point with mainliners is that up until recently they haven't cared enough to compete, but their hemorraging of members has finally caused enough of a sense of urgency to do something. At the same time, he notes, national commercials haven't made much of a difference in terms of new members.

The book may come off as cynical and make people squirm, but it also details a harsh reality: that churches do compete as a byproduct of their existence as institutions, and the ones that don't fall by the wayside. Churches either try to offer an experience that speaks to members and visitors, or those members and visitors go elsewhere. We may not put it in terms of marketing and branding, but there's a reason why people fight over worship styles and being more welcoming and whatever else. They're fighting over an experience, either of existing members or potential members.

One not familiar with marketing jargon may have to spend some extra time with certain parts of the book, like I did. But this is eye-opening, if not a little disturbing. I should also note that this book is much more descriptive than prescriptive, and frequently re-states that the entire concept of church consumerism is very unique to the United States. Go figure.

James Twitchell's "Shopping for God" is about how many modern-day Christians in America go about the process of consuming - buying and selling - the religious experience. Twitchell focuses on what has been happening in America where there is a free market in religious products, more commonly called beliefs and on what is common with fast growing denominations - selling. Today, a church is chosen, and "purchased" in an act that mimics consumption elsewhere.

Instead of expecting people to accept their practices, fast growing denominations have tailored their churches to meet the needs and desires of those they hope to serve. They define the church in a much more expansive way than traditional churches do. They attract people from a variety of religious backgrounds and center their preaching on the problems of daily life - the pain and problems that stem from a broken marriage financial trouble, aging, aloneness, substance abuse, etc. Attendees seek relief, as opposed to guilt; they want good news, not more bad news.

Essentially, this about how churches get you and others into church? How are the sensations of these beliefs generated, marketed, and consumed? Who pays? How much? And how come the markets are so roiled up right now in the United States? Or have they always been that way? Does the church on the corner operate like a gas station? What about the mega-church out thereby the interstate - is it like a big-box store? What about the denominations that they represent - do they compete? Why are they hiring so many marketing consultants? How do churches position themselves? How do they separate themselves from one another? How they break through the clutter of not just other religions but other denominations?

Author Twitchell, a professor of English and Advertising at the University of Florida, considers himself a cold Christian - a disinclination to care all that much about his own religion and an even stronger disinclination to care about other religions - and writes from this point-of-view. While some will be put off by "Selling" (it does not draw on empirical data), it is a good read and should generate discussion on several important observations Twitchell makes.

College professor and author James Twitchell is all a' twitchin' about how the modern Christian church is harnessing newfangled tools like marketing and the Internet and multi-media to push their brands and their messages.

Wow - I hadn't noticed. The author is a professor of English and Advertising at the University of Florida, which may be akin to the Clampett's Jethro Bodine narrowing his career choice to either being a brain surgeon or a "double-ought spy."

As a case study in how modern-day Protestantism has co-opted these tools to advance itself, "Shopping for God" is effective as a sociological study in the seeds of the mega-churches. The undercurrent though is that, by doing so, the church is exposed as phony or shallow. Here, Twitchell's thesis stumbles and bumbles.

Hold on a second ... Why shouldn't modern churches harness 21st century tools? What is wrong with trying to grow? What is pernicious about podcasts, email blasts or Power Point hymn lyrics if it makes the faith journey more accessible to people? Help us understand exactly what's wrong with this.

Twitchell's theory that this renders Christianity "in your face" falls flat. In today's society, one can tap into this vein or opt to unplug if that is the desire; the freedom to do this is one of the great liberties we have in the USA. Twitchell assumes a smirking, judgmental tone in his wannabe "expose" of how churches and faiths are leveraging newer technologies and marketing techniques.

Churches cannot win in this construct. If they use these tools, the innuendo is that they are selling out. If they eschew these tools, college professors can chide church leaders for being hopeless Luddites.

Further, the author's decision to cast this shopping as a uniquely Christian endeavor is also misleading. Americans are often on a spiritual quest. Sampling Buddhism, yoga, Wicca, other Eastern approaches to spirituality - many Americans sample and graze at the spiritual buffet table. You can argue about whether this is good or bad, but to imply that the notion of "shopping" is predominantly a Christian phenomenon and - by innuendo signals spiritual shallowness - is myopic. Just as there is a marketplace of ideas (and colleges as in the case of Prof. Twitchell's Florida Gators), there is a marketplace of spiritual tools, doctrines and faith approaches. So what's wrong with that?

If you are shopping for evidence that Christianity has transitioned from being in your heart to in your face, look beyond "Shopping for God," which promises more than it delivers. More sizzle than steak here; more effective as a series of sociological case studies than as a compelling critique of the new breed of churches. A would-be debunker is left finding himself with a lame-oh indictment

James Twitchell, a faculty member at the University of Florida, writes about Americans' consumption of religion in Shopping for God. He dispenses with the weighty philosophical questions about the existence of God and focuses on religion as a service for which consumers shop. In doing so, he uses academic research on marketing to explain why people choose to attend some churches, but not others.

The book is lively and entertaining. In Twitchell's view, there are only two types of churches that are vibrant right now. First are the mega churches, which offer a watered-down "Christianity lite" that demands little of people. Second, are the hardcore sects such as the Mormons and Jehovahs Witnesses that demand tremendous sacrifice. Twitchell has a lot to say about the megas, but disappointingly little to say about the second group.

In summary, Shopping for God will appeal to those who want to understand how churches attempt to lure followers. However, fundamentalist Christians probably will dislike the book's tongue-in-cheek tone.