Signs Of Empire

About a year ago Jean Kilbourn wrote a provocative article about advertising in The New Internationalist that was titled Jesus is a Brand of Jeans.  She argues that advertising both reflects, but also directs the values of a culture.  Advertising not only makes grand promises about the products and services being sold, cumulatively it tells a story about life: what life is about, what makes life important, how to have fulfillment in this life, and so forth.  She writes:

Advertising performs much the same function in industrial society as
myth did in ancient societies. It is both a creator and perpetuator of
the dominant values of the culture, the social norms by which most
people govern their behaviour. At the very least, advertising helps to
create a climate in which certain values flourish and others are not
reflected at all.

In Colossians Remixed, Brian Walsh and Sylvia Keesmaat write about the signs of Rome that permeated first century Roman culture.  The imprint of Rome, be it the image of the emperor or the eagle on the Roman standard, was on everything.  The household mirror.  The frame surrounding a painting.  The claw feet on the dining room table.  The bowls and cups from which they would eat and drink.

Tuesday I noted this presence that bombards us in our own consumeristic culture.  But do we really comprehend the spiritual effects this bombardment has on us?  More from Kilbourn:

Advertising is not only our physical environment, it is increasingly
our spiritual environment as well. By definition, however, it is only
interested in materialistic values. When spiritual values show up in
ads, it is only in order to sell us something. Eternity is a perfume by
Calvin Klein. Infiniti is an automobile, and Hydra Zen a moisturizer.
Jesus is a brand of jeans.

Sometimes the allusion is more subtle, as in the countless alcohol
ads featuring the bottle surrounded by a halo of light. Indeed products
such as jewelery shining in a store window are often displayed as if
they were sacred objects. Advertising co-opts our sacred symbols in
order to evoke an immediate emotional response. Media critic Neil
Postman referred to this as ‘cultural rape’.

It is commonplace to observe that consumerism has become the religion
of our time (with advertising its holy text), but the criticism usually
stops short of what is at the heart of the comparison. Both advertising
and religion share a belief in transformation, but most religions
believe that this requires sacrifice. In the world of advertising,
enlightenment is achieved instantly by purchasing material goods. An ad
for a watch says, ‘It’s not your handbag. It’s not your neighbourhood.
It’s not your boyfriend. It’s your watch that tells most about who you
are.’ Of course, this cheapens authentic spirituality and
transcendence. This junk food for the soul leaves us hungry, empty,
malnourished.

As in Rome in the first century, the signs of empire are all around us.  Some of them are political.  Many of them are corporate images that represent consumption.  As Kilbourn notes, advertisers are not evil people bent on the destruction of society.  They are simply doing their job, selling a product, and doing it well.  But the cumulative effect leaves us emptied by all of the false claims.

"The thief comes to steal, kill and destroy.  I’ve come that you might have life and have it to the full."  - Jesus

Read Kilbourn’s article.  Then go read David Phillips’ post on Signs and Communicating The Gospel.

Equal Opportunity

Lately I’ve been pretty hard on the Baptist Messenger regarding their approach to the baptism issue facing Henderson Hills Baptist Church.  Today I want to highlight Ray Sanders’ editorial about being real at church.  Here are a couple of tidbits:

It is a question that every child exposed to pop culture in the United
States is bound to ask at some point in time. Is professional wrestling
a fake? Needless to say I was surprised when my 6-year-old daughter
popped this question to me as I was tucking her into bed recently. Some
things in life are just too weird to be true. Even young children find
men in masks and leotards a little unbelievable.

……………

Sad as it may be, we are never more of a fake than when we are at
church. Putting on our Sunday best often has more to do with our fake
smile than it does with our clothes.  Hurting from life’s trials and
tribulations, we go through the motions as if all is well. "Surely
everyone here has their lives more together than I do," we think. "What
would they think of me if they really knew what I am going through?" 
We need to realize the church isn’t a country club for perfect people but a hospital for hurting sinners.

Good words, Ray.  The editorial in its entirety can be read here.