THAT'S ENTERTAINMENT
Most of us would agree that going to church is not a bad thing, yet we would also agree that going to church is a sometimes dull and compulsory exercise that eats into our leisure time. Let's face it, haven't we all wanted to stand up during an interminable sermon and say, "Yes, yes, yes, padre, that's all well and good, all well and good indeed. But it's not like we haven't heard this before, and kickoff is in 20 minutes"?
Churches of all denominations have been painfully aware for quite some time that pews are not filled by holy writ alone. The flock needs a little entertainment to keep its easily distracted gaze fixed upon the good news. And so some churches have begun filling their services with enough singing and dancing to rival a Broadway musical. Yet in doing so they have stepped upon a slippery slope. What is enthralling on Sunday is tiresome by Wednesday, so new styles of entertainment must be brought forth and before you know it, the congregation is seeing the story of David and Bathsheba performed by chimps. You know, the ones all got up in silly costumes and who wag their jaws to a voiceover.
But there are other ways to capture the faithful's attention without abrading sanctity. Take baptism, for example, which is also called christening, which is also what we do to ships. Why don't we christen people as we do ships? Just smash a bottle of champagne over their heads and slide them down a ramp into the baptismal font. And almost all baptisms I have been to have at some point paraded the newly baptized up and down the center aisle, especially when they're infants and toddlers. This is to allow the congregation to coo and ahhh. Well, why not just load the kids into a circus cannon and fire them down the center aisle into a waiting net. It be sort of like "Look at the little angel fly!" All that cooing would be replaced by an amazed and appreciative "Whoa, dude!"
When entertainment fails, churches can always appeal to base self-interest. I'm an Episcopalian and have at times been an usher, which can be a dangerous job. You see, once Episcopalians catch the scent of communion wafers and sacramental wine, they can be a pretty feral lot and just might rush the altar like wolves going after fattened sheep. So I decided I should not risk life and limb enforcing pew discipline for nothing and began charging $5 a head to be allowed up to the altar. I call it a "salvation tax." One Christmas Eve, I made $400 (then I blew it all at KitKat Massage, but that's another story). Making this an acceptable part of the service (which might depend on the deacon's cut) might help bring people in.
Of course, there are the usual oddballs at church, the ones who blow bubbles in the communion cup or shout "nekkid!" after the priest says, "Let us pray." But their entertainment value is wears out quickly. So if churches are going to make a pact with entertainment, they need to seek something that has shown it can endure, something that grabs people where they live.
Something like Elvis.
Most of us would agree that going to church is not a bad thing, yet we would also agree that going to church is a sometimes dull and compulsory exercise that eats into our leisure time. Let's face it, haven't we all wanted to stand up during an interminable sermon and say, "Yes, yes, yes, padre, that's all well and good, all well and good indeed. But it's not like we haven't heard this before, and kickoff is in 20 minutes"?
Churches of all denominations have been painfully aware for quite some time that pews are not filled by holy writ alone. The flock needs a little entertainment to keep its easily distracted gaze fixed upon the good news. And so some churches have begun filling their services with enough singing and dancing to rival a Broadway musical. Yet in doing so they have stepped upon a slippery slope. What is enthralling on Sunday is tiresome by Wednesday, so new styles of entertainment must be brought forth and before you know it, the congregation is seeing the story of David and Bathsheba performed by chimps. You know, the ones all got up in silly costumes and who wag their jaws to a voiceover.
But there are other ways to capture the faithful's attention without abrading sanctity. Take baptism, for example, which is also called christening, which is also what we do to ships. Why don't we christen people as we do ships? Just smash a bottle of champagne over their heads and slide them down a ramp into the baptismal font. And almost all baptisms I have been to have at some point paraded the newly baptized up and down the center aisle, especially when they're infants and toddlers. This is to allow the congregation to coo and ahhh. Well, why not just load the kids into a circus cannon and fire them down the center aisle into a waiting net. It be sort of like "Look at the little angel fly!" All that cooing would be replaced by an amazed and appreciative "Whoa, dude!"
When entertainment fails, churches can always appeal to base self-interest. I'm an Episcopalian and have at times been an usher, which can be a dangerous job. You see, once Episcopalians catch the scent of communion wafers and sacramental wine, they can be a pretty feral lot and just might rush the altar like wolves going after fattened sheep. So I decided I should not risk life and limb enforcing pew discipline for nothing and began charging $5 a head to be allowed up to the altar. I call it a "salvation tax." One Christmas Eve, I made $400 (then I blew it all at KitKat Massage, but that's another story). Making this an acceptable part of the service (which might depend on the deacon's cut) might help bring people in.
Of course, there are the usual oddballs at church, the ones who blow bubbles in the communion cup or shout "nekkid!" after the priest says, "Let us pray." But their entertainment value is wears out quickly. So if churches are going to make a pact with entertainment, they need to seek something that has shown it can endure, something that grabs people where they live.
Something like Elvis.
posted by John Parnell at 12:16 PM
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