Advertising and Religion in a Secular Age - Taylor & Francis Online

Journal of Contemporary Religion, Vol. 15, No. 1, 2000

The Church in the Market Place: Advertising and Religion in a Secular Age

MARTYN PERCY

ABSTRACT This paper explores the limits of Peter Berger’s secularization thesis through an examination of religious advertising. If churches are part of a market situation, as Berger af® rms, what can be said of their advertising in a secular age? Different types of religious advertising and their effectiveness are discussed in relation to more widely disseminated religious imagery in secular advertising. The conclusion suggests that certain religious themes, ideas and images still continue to enjoy prominence in public consciousness. This has a double implication: for churches as they market themselves in a plural world, and for sociologists who construct theories of secularization. The cod® sh lays ten thousand eggs. The homely hen lays one. The cod® sh never cackles To tell you what she’s done. And so we scorn the cod® shÐ While the humble hen we prize. It only goes to show you That it pays to advertise.1 Introduction This paper is about advertising; speci® cally, a re¯ ection on the problems encountered by Christian Churches as they have sought to engage with this particular medium of communication in the UK. At the same time, the paper also attempts to sketch the issues posed by re¯ ecting on religious advertising itself in a secular age. Peter Berger’s `market-model’ analogy of ecclesiology and early secularization theory operates as an overall frame for this discussion, and the issue of religious advertising in turn serves as a case study that re¯ ects on Berger’s secularization thesis. It should be noted that the relationship between churches and the contemporary medium of advertising is characteristically uneasy.2 This is in part due to the conservative nature of the established churches in their attitude towards radio and television generally. It is not so long ago that the Church of England Bishops questioned the ® rst radio broadcast of Dorothy Sayer’s The Man Born to be King, because it involved listeners hearing the voice of Christ. In the United Kingdom, the Code of Advertising Standards and Practice carefully sets out what is acceptable and what is unacceptable in religious advertising. For example, both radio and television are excluded from promoting faith healing or miracles and 1353± 7903/00/010097± 23 Ó 2000 Taylor & Francis Ltd

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1995 Figure 1. Source: Reproduced by kind permission of the Christian Advertising Network, Oxford, UK.

asking for money; speci® c appeals to those under the age of 18 are also banned (Church of England Report, 1994: 51ff). Indeed, the Code appears to be consciously distancing itself from the kind of fare that is readily available in the USA from `televangelists’ and a wide variety of Christian channels, although the advent of satellite broadcasting and digital television in the United Kingdom is challenging these boundaries. `Specialised Religious Channels’ are now covered under the 1990 Broadcasting Act, and the ITC (Independent Television Commission) will permit ª the expounding of religious doctrineº and the announcing of ª the times and venues of healing servicesº (Church of England Report, 1994: 12). Besides the speci® c issue of religious advertising, churches have also been host to a culture of suspicion concerning the general (alleged) power of advertising. Eric Clark’s classic The Want Makers re¯ ects some of these concerns, such as ª the exploitation of human inadequacyº , deprivation of ª the will to chooseº and ª degradation of the people it appeals toº (Clark, 1956: 24). More speci® cally, churches have raised ethical questions about advertising, ranging from their (apparent) encouragement to ª undesirable characteristics in human beingsº

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Figure 2. Source: Reproduced by kind permission of the Christian Advertising Network, Oxford, UK.

(sloth, envy, lechery and gluttony are singled out), through to deregulation in Third World Countries (tobacco, or perhaps more famously, Nestle and their marketing of powdered baby milk) and gender stereotyping. However, these concerns are more to do with the use and abuse of materialism than a critique of the medium of advertising. Advertisements can inspire, evoke affection and impart useful public information. Indeed, from this perspective, there are plenty of signs that Christians are increasingly embracing advertisements as an effective means of communicating the particularity of the Gospel in a pluralist age (Church of England Report, 1994: 12± 15; see, for example, Figures 4± 6).


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Tempting Tantalus Advertising works because there are markets for goods, which in turn contain a measure of freedom and competition. In this construction of (capitalist) reality, the consumer is the centre of the world and the focus of production. The task of advertising is to reach that person, to inform them, and ultimately to begin to persuade them. The habitual genre of an advertisement that sells rather than just informs is therefore `tantalising’: the information about and the bene® ts of a product are presented in such a way as to evoke, maintain or expand an existing customer base or begin a new one. The word `tantalise’ is derived from the ancient Greek legend of Tantalus. He was a chef to the Gods, who somehow managed to offend them. His name describes his punishment; he was placed in a cool stream of running water, with a vine ripe with grapes suspended just over



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his head. Every time he bent down to drink the water to quench his thirst, the water would drain away; when he reached for the grapes to sate his hunger, a breeze would waft them from his grasp. To be fair to advertising, although it can both tantalise and tease, creating want and fomenting desire, it is bound by codes and rules to actually deliver what it offers. Yet it does this by creating a world of ideal scenarios or caricatures and `mini-dramas’ of normal-ideal life. Thus, the themes that consistently emerge include good friendship, the warmth of family ties, success in working life, pride in personal appearance, the possibility of improvement or empowerment. It is, however, important to distinguish advertising from selling. Advertising might lead a consumer to a product, but it cannot compel him/her to purchase. Put more sharply, the medium is not usually the message, although they are closely related. Loosely translated into theological language, advertising cannot convert people, nor does it bring them to faith. It can, however, persuade the public to take a second look (i.e. to think again) or possibly even stimulate desire. Some of the most successful religious advertisements of recent years have operated in this way. In Britain, the 1990 Christian Aid poster and television campaign (ª We Believe in Life Before Deathº ) raised the pro® le of the charity and increased signi® cantly the income donated in door-to-door collections. The 1989 campaign for the Billy Graham Mission (ª Life means what?º ) successfully created curiosity and stimulated awareness for the mission, resulting in a saturation of media coverage for Graham and substantial attendance at his rallies. (It was named campaign of the year by Campaign Magazine.) In the USA, the ground-breaking work of the Fallon McElligott agency for the Anglican Church (ECUSA) still functions as a bench-mark for church advertising. One of the more memorable of its press advertisements included a picture of Christ with the caption ª He died to take away your sins. Not your mind.º , followed by copy that presents the Episcopal church as a place for exploring issues and pursuing a questing faith. Another advertisement from the same agency for the same client showed a church-goer whose mouth was gagged, with the caption stating that ª There’s

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Figure 7. Source: Reproduced by kind permission of Fallon McElligott, Minnesota, USA.

only one problem with religions that have all the answers. They don’t allow questions.º (See Figures 7± 10) While these pithy campaigns have left their mark as successful `persuaders’, there are campaigns that are remembered for different reasons. Morris Cerullo’s 1994 Mission to London Campaign attracted negative publicity for the FCB advertising that promoted it. Posters picturing discarded wheelchairs and crutches (promoting Cerullo’s healing ministry) offended people with disabilities who claimed that it demeaned them. The Christian Advertising Network (CAN) `Bad Hair Day’ campaign (Figure 1) seemed to amuse the media far more than it ever appealed to the youthful constituency it was aimed that; but this was



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achieved at the cost of alienating some within the churches who felt it trivialized the Christmas story. Subsequent work from CAN has played safer by attempting to appeal to both those inside and outside the church (e.g. Christmas± Copyright, Figure 16). Despite the increased interest in church advertising, the work of the CAN, and the energy and enthusiasm of Diocesan Communication Of® cers, the ® eld remains something of a Cinderella in terms of investment and resources. Unlike the USA, where focused campaigns are a regular feature of apologetics and


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ecclesiology, British churches remain surprisingly reticent about the bene® ts of advertising. There are doubtless many reasons for this, including habitual hostility towards the media. Churches seem to see themselves more in the role of a `watchdog’ rather than as a body that might pro® t from using a medium that many large organizations take for granted. This tends to result in the churches engaging in tame or lame advertising: under-resourced, unclear about their focus, and over-concerned not to offend their existing constituency. At a more local level, most of the public exposure to church advertising is likely to be a bill-board outside the church, with an accompanying notice board densely packed with information.3 The bill-board invariably offers a rather passeÂ `pun’ (e.g. ª ChÐ ch. What’s missing? UR!º or ª Carpenter seeks Joinersº ) or simply a biblical text or doctrinal statement. There is little attempt at subtlety or a more arresting form of engagement (see Figures 17 and 18). From this brief survey, church or Christian advertising (posters and press)4Ð at least in the UKÐ might be classi® ed in the following way: 1. Literalistic: proclamation of biblical texts or doctrinal statements. The Public Transport Scripture Text Mission provide many of the posters seen in British railway stations. No illustrations; pure text (see Figures 17 and 18). 2. Evangelistic: linked to a place of worship. Phrase or text designed to have an impact on bypassers. Unlikely to be humorous or arresting, at least for nonchurch-goers. 3. Modern: Christian Aid campaign (ª we believe in life before deathº ), appealing to an ethical meta-narrative. The appeal is universal (life), the issue is particular (current debates, such as Third World Debt of a particular disaster). 4. Postmodern: `Bad Hair Day’ (Figure 1) remains the best example; comic and contemporary re¯ ection on well-known story. The humour is particular, with the universal story sublimated. Might be slightly `Pythonesque’ . 5. Ironic: Fallon McElligott’s workÐ wry, witty and (normally) liberal: conveys some information and a simple message. The advertisements work by caricaturing spiritual competition and subtly celebrating communitarian values (see Figures 7± 10). In each case, the task of advertising is to reach a target audience. The literalistic and evangelistic forms of advertising are, in fact, almost entirely directed at those who already belong to faith communities. Their function in public space is one of presence and proclamation, but their particularity limits their appeal. The modern, ironic and postmodern forms are, however, attempts to engage with culture, recognizing that churches are part of the `market place’ (e.g. Figures 2± 5). Correspondingly, they need to catch the eye in an environment that is saturated with images that compete for levels of stimulation by way of response (J. Berger, 1972: 129). What follows is a consideration of this context through the work of Peter Berger, speci® cally his image of the church as a ùnit’ in a `spiritual market’. Peter Berger and the Theological Construction of Reality In a recently published essay, Peter Berger returns to one of his most enduring analogies, ® rst coined in 1963: namely, the `market model’ for ecclesiology in relation to secularized society (P. Berger, 1963). The contours of the argument are as follows. In a secular society where State and Church are largely separate,


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churches can no longer rely on the body politic to enforce their claims of loyalty. Consequently, new religions (or none) are tolerated by the State, which leads to a pluralistic situation. In turn, this creates a religious `free market’, where all religions are pushed into a competitive situation: ¼

what previously could be authoritatively imposed, now has to be marketed. It must be sold to a clientele that is no longer constrained to `buy’ . A pluralistic situation is, above all, a market situation. In it, the religious institutions become market agencies and the religious traditions become consumer commodities. (P. Berger, 1993: 49; cf. Berger, 1967: 138) The examination is indebted to the analogy in some more detail, but against the background of another enduring phrase of Berger’s and his more general theory of ª the social construction of realityº (P. Berger & Luckmann, 1967). For Berger, this means the totality of ª everything that passes for knowledge in societyº , especially the common-sensical, that constitutes the reality of everyday life for the ordinary member of society. The outlook is basically humanistic; yet there are substantial implications for the study of religion, including how its own sense of revelation might be weighed against any charge of projection. Three other essays are also of interest and relate to the use of the `market model’ analogy (P. Berger, 1977, 1979, 1981). I shall attempt to show that while it is useful to regard religion as being in a market-orientated situation, the boot may also be on the other foot. Market-orientated situations can be deemed to sit squarely within the context of the religious situation. In a religious monopoly, according to Berger, the content of religion is determined in line with the dominant and established theology or religious leadership. In a pluralistic situation, religion becomes more susceptible to mundane in¯ uences and consumer preferences. The principle of changeability is introduced and the content of religions becomes subject to what we might deem `fashion’. Correspondingly, it becomes increasingly dif® cult to defend and maintain religious traditions which are supposed to be based on àbsolute’ truth.5 Thus, traditional religions can suddenly ® nd themselves accused of being `narrow’ or even `sectarian’, while new or more adaptable religious groups are valued for their ability to inculcate and re¯ ect contemporary trends and movements.6 Even so, consumer pressure cannot per se be said to be the sole determinant in religious content. What is being suggested, however, is that religions are subject to change, even if they choose to position themselves in the religious market by virtue of being opposed to it. This might be true of our situation: it is certainly a valid social analogy that `reads’ religion, even if it does not interpret or analyze it. Yet Berger’s original intention in using the market analogy in 1963 was to provide an account of ecumenism. Churches were still regarded as being in a competitive battle, but the gradual secularization of society meant a cutback in the size and scope of the religious market. Consequently, denominational particularities were de-emphasized, and the religious product `standardized’ in the interests of providing a simpler market format for potential consumers. Thus, unity is stressed above difference, connectedness over division, and uniformity of purpose against schism. In short, ecumenism is cast as a marketing strategyÐ a response to the process of secularization (P. Berger, 1963: 85ff; see also Lee, 1960: 91; van der

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Ven, 1996: 450± 467). Yet Berger is careful to maintain that the denominations will continue to exist through a process of `marginal differentiation’. This guarantees that rivalry does not get out of hand between competing denominations, yet at the same time, keeps the game alive for all the participants. Berger is careful to avoid addressing the role of theologians in the process of legitimization (P. Berger, 1963: 90), a skilful piece of marketing in itself. Berger’s treatment of institutions and identities is rooted in his discussion of knowledge or world views. In the broadest sense, knowledge makes human beings and society; we are orientated by `pre-theoretical’ concepts or `common knowledge’. Knowledge here is in the sense of `shared meanings’, which are in turn funded by ideology as a form of social legitimization. Ìdeology’ does not mean a broad sweep of beliefs or a narrow political agenda, but rather a set of ideas that legitimizes vested interests and is linked to a larger, symbolic universe. The secularization thesis and the idea of the marketability of religion rests on these presuppositions. Western society and culture are deemed to be undergoing a process whereby the dominating symbols are losing their power and pro® le (P. Berger, 1967: 10). Furthermore, because (religious) plausibility is linked to legitimization, and because the enlightenment, modernity and rationalism are, to an extent, products of Protestantism, Christianity has become ª its own gravediggerº (ibid: 129). Yet Berger is quick to acknowledge that secularization does not mean that religious belief disappears altogether. Secularization occurs at different levels. It might weaken the religious `plausibility structures’ among individuals, but it does not follow that this agenda becomes established in society as an accomplished fact (see Wuthnow et al., 1984: 64). Moreover, modernity can still create conditions that favour religious resurgence; strong religious impulses still exist.7 Revivals are episodic in character, spontaneous and unpredictable reactions to secularization. Ecumenism is a more organized response to the loss of power vested in common symbols, and Berger may be right to dub the ecumenical movement as a market-led response. Times have, however, changed since the advent of this original thesis. In Britain at least, ecumenism has been transformed from a process that was crawling towards standardization to one where difference is celebrated. The British Council of Churches no longer exists: regional devolution has replaced that body with organizations like ACTS (Action of Churches Together in Scotland) or CTE (Churches Together in England). Working together in spite of differences has replaced the agenda of working towards òneness’. The creation of a single modernist super-churchÐ a meta-narrativeÐ has not occurred. Presumably, this is partly because certain particular truth claims in churches and denominations could not be standardized or negotiated away in the interests of public unity. It must also be because of the postmodern celebration of difference that treats the meta-narrative with incredulity. Berger could still argue that the denominations are only responding to the market ¯ ow: standardization has given way to specialization. Moreover, brand loyalty has all but gone, with consumers committed to a range of services and products rather than just one.8 The problem that remains for Berger is the relationship between the willingness of churches to be adaptable and the truth claims that many believe they are founded on. To an extent, all churches have dimensions to them that are


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theologically non-negotiable and are with them irrespective of any prevailing fashions. Johannes van der Ven levels two further criticisms at the `market model’. He suggests that `market’ is an inadequate term for describing the basic face-to-face interaction in various sectors of the church. In turn, he points out that `markets’ are not pure entities beyond society, but a partial by-product of social relations (van der Ven, 1996: 454± 455). There is still praise for the `market model’, as an account of the relationship between association, people and movements. But van der Ven fears that it relativizes the church and ascribes too much power to individual choice. Even in trade and industry, competition is not the be-all and end-allÐ there is no perfect realm of competition. Thus, van der Ven concludes that while the church is in¯ uenced by marketability, the mechanisms of supply and demand and the like, it does not follow that it merges into a dominant mode of marketability. It bears the features of a community, a movement and a distinct body, that at times is attractive precisely because it is unmarketable and seemingly unappealing. It is not just a `product’, but also a `service’ with a distinct identity that does not necessarily have an interest in buying or selling itself or being concerned with its market position.9 Berger’s arguments and the critique of Johannes van der Ven are actually quite mismatched. Berger, as a sociologist with theological interests, assesses contemporary ecclesiology from a height. His analogies provide a `map’ of the cultural situation in which churches ® nd themselves. In his work he talks of `symbols’, `levels’ and ùnits’: this is a form of social cartographyÐ a detailed description of the `big picture’. For Berger, religion is a `social’ construction of reality that borrowed sacred ideas to enforce existing plausibility structures. When the religious ideas lose their power, the social construction of reality shifts from being founded on the sacred to that of the secular. This is a sociological approach to religion, in which any form of revelation is necessarily cast in the role of ideological projection, albeit for the prevailing common good. Antithesis: The Market as Religion We know that churches do advertise and market themselves and that they are to an extent bonded together in a form of regulated competitive framework. But what if we saw the market as an extension of religion? Suppose the chief features of advertising and marketing start to lend themselves to a religious interpretation in which we could meaningfully speak of a theological construction of reality providing us with our sociality? In short, if religion is commercially-minded, why can’t commerce be deemed to be religiously minded? Furthermore, if this is so, what might the implications of this be for churches that do want to advertise now? Some speci® c examples might help to illustrate how Berger’s thesis can, in fact, be a double bind. Whether it is washing powders, beer or a new spread for bread, television advertising frequently offers motifs that are more at home in religious usage. Typically, the uninitiated consumer is portrayed as ignorant or unconvinced of the new product on offer. The advertisement shows how they are convertedÐ often in a moment of taste, touch or experienceÐ from blandness, nothingness or scepticismÐ to being a believer. Adverts that preach brand loyalty appeal to the motif of conversion because of its religious resonance. The new consumer is

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shown as enlightened and joins an eÂlite of brand-believers who have discovered the truth. Products, in their competitive strategies, deploy a theological construction of reality, in which enlightenment, conversion, believing and belonging matter. To be in any market requires a degree of faith and hope and an appeal to the possibility of perfection. These themes are obvious in many commercials. Yet the borrowing of religious ideas is even more apparent in the service industry. In telecommunications advertising at present, Ionica have mixed ideas of heaven (not earth-bound) and angels (messengers) to convey wireless phone network. Mercury and Orange advertise mobile phones, but the message is that while they give the consumer freedom to roam, the deeper purpose of the product is to bring people together so that they can always stay in touch. In other words, freedom, properly exercised, can enable deeper relational bonds. Mobile phones are a divine instrument for combating the evils of modernity: over-crowding, traf® c jams and insuf® cient time. Developing this several stages further, British Telecom preach that ìt is good to talk’ and run all manner of advertisements which offer tips on how to improve relationships. If only people talked more (on the phone), lovers’ tiffs could be healed, distant fathers could relate to their children, siblings could get along better, and everybody would feel more valued and included in society. Making the effort to talk to your neighbour is a way of showing regard for him/her, limiting loneliness and misunderstanding. The comparisons do not end here. Insurance advertisements offer peace of mind and security. Corporate companies sell an image that is ¯ ecked with ecclesial themes: the assurance of presence, the bene® ts of belonging and the size of the body are meant to tell a story of social salvation, but they cannot do that without resorting to religious ideology. Of course, it is not the case that religion once had the monopoly on these concepts and has now lost it. My purpose in highlighting these common motifs is to remind us that `market’ and `religion’ cannot be easily divided, any more than the secular and sacred can be divorced from each other. One of the problems with secularization theories is, in my view, that many continue to miss the myriad ways in which life is constantly sacralized. By the same token, `secularizing’ the church through cultural syncretism or Church-State alliances is an established part of Christian identity, long before the Enlightenment, Reformation or Renaissance. Furthermore, even if there is something called a `secular society’ now, it still has its `gods’, shrines and idols, even if they are not connected to divinity. Modern atheism has its altars. Berger, naturally enough, is alive to this. In his essay on ª Secular Theology and the Rejection of the Supernaturalº (P. Berger, 1977), he recognizes that much theological language has been translated into and reduced to (psycho)therapy and emancipatory political movements. Not only that, just as `supernaturalistic forms of religion’ were once imposed on people, so now the new àssertive and arrogant’ secularism is imposed on people, which Berger interestingly classes as a type of `fundamentalism’. Berger concludes his essay by suggesting, humorously, that `secular theologians’, such as Schubert Ogden, Langdon Gilkey and David Tracy, although laudable for addressing their work to the apologetic task of reaching those beyond the community of faith, nonetheless represent `musicology for the deaf’.


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There are signs hereÐ the essay was written in 1977Ð that the categories of secular, sacred, divine and human are now more ¯ uid in Berger’s thinking. A more devastating critique of competition emerges in 1981, in an essay in the Harvard Business Review (P. Berger, 1981). Here, Berger questions the concept of legitimacy in commerce and identi® es `class’ as a principal, but hidden determinant in economic affairs. Because of this, he urges the business community to go beyond economics and politics and to address `meaning and value’, recognizing that inter- and co-dependency need fostering. In other words, the market is to be at least partly subject to society, if society is to continue as a humane enterprise; if the market dominates, humanity suffers through its subsequent alienation. Markets tend to be rampant and ravenous rather than ethical and self-regulating. They need to be chastened, controlled and put to good use, rather than be the principal determinant in business life. The essay resonates with the conclusion of an article published in 1979 on ª Religion and the American Futureº . Here, Berger pleads for the revitalization of the American political community, which is urgent: ¼

the hope of success is not the ® nal motive for our efforts on the stage of history. Rather, it is obedience to the moral imperatives of our situation. I believe that the revitalisation of the American political community is such an imperative ¼ an awesome number of human values ride today on the survival of the American experiment. The revitalisation of the religious community is an even deeper imperative, for it points beyond America and indeed beyond history ¼ (quoted in Lipset, 1979: 77) The trajectory of these writings reveals a suspicion of the autonomy and power of markets. The writings also suggest that religions should no longer be commodi® ed as units within secular-led `market forces’. Instead, churches should stand with humanity and share in the common task of infusing society with meaning and values, that will in turn check alienation and relativization. We have therefore come almost full circle. Secularization, when pressed, ensures that religion and churches survive and succeed (or something like this), since true human value cannot be derived from the market alone; were this so, the market would be quickly dei® edÐ a `god’ for capitalism. In the meantime, society uses religious motifs in the marketplace as a means of arousing a higher individual and communal consciousness that seeks the possibility of change and the bene® ts of fraternity, equality and liberty. It is a secular gospel, but it is still a Gospel of sorts. True, one can speak of a social construction of reality in religion that is legitimized by ideological projection. At the same time, there can be no full exorcism of the theological construction of reality that imbues much of our sociality. In truth, the modernist meta-narrative remains a child of liberal Protestantism, which is itself descended from Christendom. Secularization, as Berger acknowledges, is a child of Christian development: part of the family in a long, if declining, dynastic line. The Speechless Word: Ideologies in Religious Advertising Launcelot Andrewes, in his Christmas Day sermon of 1620, describes the incarnation of Christ as ª the Word that cannot speakº (Brother Kenneth, 1983:

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129). In using this phrase, he meant to draw his listeners to the powerlessness of Christ as well as the profundity of the revelation. There is an irony here for religious advertising. The power of the image in contemporary life is undoubted; but religion, and particularly Christianity, is primarily a religion of words rather than images. It is aural and oral rather than visual; cognitive rather than expressive. All of the ® ve types of religious advertising referred to earlier are dominated by text as a means of communication. Apart from the cross or a cruci® x, Christianity has no logo for its Logos; little that appears to communicate effectively in the public domain. However, I argue that the most potentially effective forms of Christian advertising, in all probability, are visual. While there is some truth in the maxim that `the camera is a blunt instrument compared to a pen and the imagination’, the relationship between words and images has changed in contemporary culture. In a post-foundational world, it is the power of the image that takes us to the text. The Bible is no longer a principal source of morality, functioning as a rule book. The gradualism of postmodernity has transformed the text into a guide, a source of spirituality, in which the power of the story as but one potential moral reference point has superseded the didactic. Thus, the meaning of the Good Samaritan is more important than the Ten CommandmentsÐ even


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Figure 12. Source: Andrea Mategna, The Dead Christ (1465, Milan).

assuming that the latter could be remembered in any detail by anyone. Into this milieu the image speaks with power. Ironically, it is `secular’ advertising that effectively adopts the religious imagery that could be said to still belong to the churches. Benetton, the clothes manufacturer, have run controversial advertisements for many years that use no text, but deliberately explore religious themes to convey the global message of Ùnited Colors of Benetton’. Recent work by Bartle, Bogle & HegartyÐ for postersÐ has included: A grieving family gathering around an emaciated and dying man. The picture, by Therese Frare (1990) appears to be deliberately resonant of Andrea Mategna’s The Dead Christ (1465, Milan; Figures 12 and 13). A Monk and a Nun, both dressed in black and white habit or robes, exchanging a chaste or `holy kiss’ (Figure 14). A military cemetery of white crosses, with a green grass background (Figure 15). A newly born child, still unwashed and attached to its umbilical cord being held in adult hands; the use of skin colours carries an explicit message of racial unity and common human experience. The Benetton images are striking for their simplicity: they cover themes, such as the commonality of humanity, peace, reconciliation, life and death. The

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Figure 13. Source: Reproduced by kind permission of United Colors of Benetton, London, UK.

pictures speak, yet without using text (although they relate to the words ùnited’ and `colour’). The images convey a moral message, arresting the viewer and inviting re¯ ection. The question beckons: if a clothes manufacturer and their



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advertising agency can achieve this, why can’t the churches? One answer to this must lie in the iconoclasm that has bedevilled western Christian traditions for so long. As with `story’, the image has no controllable meaning: the response is aesthetic rather than cognitive. People participate in stories and images at their own level: there is an inbuilt multiplicity of meaning; truth is plural. In their desire to delimit doctrine, reform and rule, Protestant and Catholic churches have frequently sought the sanctuary of words at the expense of the image. In pre- and post-enlightenment times, this has been advantageous to the extent that it has deposited power in semantics. However, the advent of a more visual age, post-war and post-modern, has questioned the whole enterprise. What would it be like then, if churches were to take Berger’s `market model’ analogy seriously and re-advertise in the light of this? To move forward with this question, it is essential to have some purchase on the ideologies of advertising.10 Judith Williamson in her thoughtful analysis entitled Decoding Advertisements: Ideology and Meaning (1976) suggests that advertisements create structures of meaning that transform the language of objects to that of people, and vice versa. Thus, symbols of exchange emerge; she cites the example of diamonds. The mineral means nothing in its own terms, but likened to endurance and beauty, its identity becomes linked to `love’ and longevity. The key is in the linkage. Flowers say nothing, yet `Say it with ¯ owers’ says something. Once we get into the realm of `products’, such as drinks, cigarettes, cars or clothes, classes of people, communities and overlays of meaning are created by the sociality inferred by the use and bene® t of the product. The symbols deployed become simultaneously subtle and absorbing, their meaning having an impact on the consumer in ways too deep to measure. They are subliminal, appealing to instincts below the immediate levels of consciousness.

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This might suggest that the task of advertising for the churches is even more tricky in a secular and consumer-led world. The size of the problem probably depends on the extent to which one is willing to accept a `general’ secularization thesis. Jib Fowles concludes his Advertising and Popular Culture (1996) with some telling remarks about the true meaning of Christmas. Noting that Christmas has a curiously brief social history, he notes how `sacred’ the season has been for centuries throughout the Northern Hemisphere. At a time when the daylight was weakest, pagan festivals included excessive drinking and eating, the exchange of gifts, normal rules and prohibitions were suspended and even roles reversed (women and men cross-dressing, masters waiting on servants, etc.). The ® fth century saw the festival Christianized, but the old customs survived, even if they were reinterpreted. The censorious attentions of Protestant reformers in the seventeenth century and beyond arrested that, but only to pave the way for the reinvention of the season in the nineteenth century. From this capitalist and industrial base, the scope of Christmas has widened. The season itself lasts much longer (Fowles suggests it runs from Thanksgiving in late November to Superbowl Sunday in mid-January), yet it remains a curiously `sacred’ and scarce time in a society that is otherwise driven by individualism and competitiveness. In this season, families are more in focus, gifts are exchanged, and our connectedness and interdependence is celebrated (Fowles, 1996: 246ff).11

Figure 18.

Source: Reproduced with kind permission of the Christian Advertising Network, Oxford, UK.

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Contrary to what one might expect, `sacred’ ideology is often given a particular voice during this most secular of seasons, and the materialism and consumerism should be seen as an extension of a innate human and religious instinct (e.g. Figure 11). What might the churches do to give focus and voice to their own presence in this particular milieu? Of the options discussed so far that have concerned Christmas, a number of observations follow. Firstly, the `Christmas± Copyright’ advertisements (Figure 16) appear to completely misread the relationship between `secular’ and `sacred’ in society we have described. Furthermore, the holy day/holiday is not something that the churches òwn’, either in form or meaning: the day and the season is given to society by faith-traditions (the plural is intentional)Ð churches have a dubious claim in àsking for it back’ as theirs.12 Secondly, the `Bad Hair Day’ campaign (Figure 1) is much more in keeping with the festive spirit of the season and is therefore more likely to retain a place in public affection. In true postmodern style, a story is at the centre of the campaign which belongs to the public domainÐ many people still know who the Wise Men are. However, as we have already noted, it was so avantgarde as to alienate its main sponsors, namely the churches. Add to this the media chiding of the CAN for failing to provide something `traditional’, and the scale of the problem seems insurmountable for future campaigns. Is there a third way? Probably. While it would not be appropriate to articulate a strategy for advertising in a paper of this length, a number of pointers for the future could be noted. Firstly, secularization and consumerism are ¯ uid concepts that do not necessarily `compete’ with religion; as we have seen, they can complement sacred seasons, be by-products of religion, or be seasoned by faith. Secondly, while the `market-place’ analogy is useful for the churches to consider, its main function is as a reminder of the risks involved in identifying with and participating in any public sphere. Thirdly, image is at least as important as text, if not more so. In advertising culture, pictures draw readers in, unless the copy is so outstanding as to enable the text to stand alone. In view of this, churches need to consider what images they can use that appeal and that are authentic. Finally, religious vocabulary and imagery is widely disseminated, challenged and used in society, which raises a question over the degree to which churches can use it as an effective medium. If they try to simply reclaim it (e.g. ChristmasÐ Copyright) it may look small-minded. A more worthwhile strategy might be to either extend its use even more (Bad Hair Day), or, perhaps even more controversially, abandon it altogether and appeal to more humane themes. Conclusion The church in the marketplace remains a powerful and enduring image for sociologists and theologians. As a general analogy, it offers some insight into models of the church in relation to one another and in relation to secularization. By de® nition, it also offers a mirror to society. Religious motifs are often used for secular purposes and their elucidation helps the exploration of the limits of secular and materialist ascendancy; in turn this probes the moral and religious principles that offer the deeper points of reference in the construction of sociality. The wide dissemination of religious symbols in societyÐ including marketing and advertisingÐ suggests that the embers of Christian belief still


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glow in an apparently secular society. Moreover, this may point to the strength of religion (in its capacity for self-gift) within a secular society that often fails to see it. Equally, this form of implicit religion may also be said to point to the weakness of secular society and its failure to ® nd moral frames of reference that provide cohesion, balance and direction, without going through religious motifs. There are nonetheless serious problems with Berger’s analogy. `Market’, like all metaphors, is an imperfect description and a distorted ascription. The market metaphor misses the fact that the sociologist of religion is also constructing reality and is in competition with the ùnits’ it describes. In short, Berger is `framed’ by his own metaphor. Indeed, the metaphor can be turned inside out, read backwards, or simply be allowed to swallow itself in its consumerism. Moreover, the trajectory of Berger’s thinking about economic markets suggests that he is probably in favour of regulation (or subjugation to higher goals) in the case of the market economy, but apparently not in relation to religious pluralism. This begs all kinds of questions about why Berger is prepared to treat religions in relation to secularization in one way, but economic pluralism in another. Still more serious are the deeper questions of agency. Sociologists and theologians are both familiar with the term àgent’ and can share insights into their evaluation. However, sociologists (whether constructionist or realist) do not normally address the resources of agency, unless it is done with reference to other agents (e.g. ideology, legitimization, etc.). Sociologists, too, easily assume that the medium is the message, and that churches are essentially selling what they are and nothing else. The humanist and projectionist presuppositions of sociology guarantee this. Ecclesiologies are only de® ned in relation to one another and to the world. Thus, the point of being a Presbyterian or an Anglican is apparently about competition and differentiation from Methodists, Pentecostals or Catholics. In contrast, theologians would see that a marketing strategy or advertising agent (or even product) is not the same as the message or essence behind the agent. Ecclesiology is not just ideology, competition and legitimization. It is also a biased account of God, around which a sociality is constructed. This is both the strength and weakness of the market model for churches. It has plenty to say about style, content and social expression, which is a valuable thing to re¯ ect on in a secular age. Little can be said, however, about theology and divine substance when using the model, which is surely what the churches think they are ultimately about? This is why some churches are like hens in the anonymous poem quoted above. Some forms of ecclesiology undoubtedly do invest in the agencies of marketing and advertising and regard themselves as being in competition with other churches and secular society. Others are like the cod® sh. They are not ùnits’ in a market, but disseminated as the yeast in the bread or the salt for seasoning: a simple ¯ ickering light many still see by, yet strangely take for granted. Perhaps this ® nal observation is the very place to begin a future advertising brief, as well as to start again with a secularization thesis. Revd Canon Dr Martyn Percy is Director of the Lincoln Theological Institute for the Study of Religion and Society. In September 1999, he was appointed to the council of the Advertising Standards Authority. Correspondence: Lincoln Theological Institute for the Study of Religion and Society, University of Shef® eld, Shef® eld S10 2GB, UK.

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NOTES 1. Anonymous, cited in Ogilvy, 1983: 172. 2. Of course, advertisements in tracts and booklets have long been a feature of non-conformist and established churches, but the churches are more reconciled to the printed word as an appropriate medium for apologetics. The uneasiness is more to do with the present advertising ìndustry’, the `media’, and its power. The Vatican has published a number of controversial documents in this ® eld, the most notable being ª Ethics in Advertisingº by the Ponti® cal Council for Social Communication (1997). 3. Advertising on the notice board is actually a separate issue. The board often has to re¯ ect the character of the building and necessarily contains information for enquiries, legal purposes and the like. 4. While there is some TV and radio advertising, the focus here is on press and poster work, which forms the overwhelming majority of Christian advertising budget in the UK. 5. Except of course, when they enjoy a brief phase of popularity. The youth attendance at the Pope’s recent Mass (August 1997) in Paris is a good example. The numbers turning upÐ perhaps 300, 000Ð signify anything from curiosity to respect, but they obviously do not translate into an increase in vocations or Mass attendance. 6. One could ponder the problematic oxymoron of the `House Church Movement’. Popular in the 1970s because it was a movement and not a new denomination (i.e. deliberately self-styled as not being a church), it has acquired an identity crisis in the mid 1990s. How can a `movement’, with a ¯ uid, adaptable and contemporary message, be meaningfully reconciled with the demands of being a church, which might include the establishment of creeds, traditions, boundaries and norms? At present, the `movement’ seems to be slipping into a church-type mould, while struggling to maintain its movement identity. Membership in the UK has declined to under 250, 000, with some charismatic consumers deserting the fold for more established churches and others leaving the movement in search of something original and fresh. 7. The creation of `shrines’Ð candles, ¯ owers, notesÐ to remember and pray for victims of tragedies is but one example. From Hillsborough to Diana, Princess of Wales, `folk’ religion wells up in times of national grief and is given voice, focus and direction by the established churches. 8. A. S. Ehrenberg, in Ogilvy on Advertising, states that ª consumers do not buy one brand of soap or coffee or detergent. They have a repertory of four or ® ve brands, and move from one to anotherº (Ogilvy, 1983: 172). In Charismatic Churches which I have studied, `consumers’ do seem to vary their attendance at churches, according to the types of worship, healing or deliverance on offer. Some are members of one, but frequent visitors to one or two others. 9. The obvious example of this is the religious communityÐ perhaps a monastery or conventÐ that does not primarily seek to attract members. The orientation of the community is prayer, work and contemplation. 10. There are a number of key texts to note here which provide valuable insights. See especially Dyer, 1982, and Myers, 1995. 11. See the Salvation Army advertisement, illustrated (Figure 11). Contemporary secularization theorists, such as Steve Bruce (1996), would doubtless see this advertisement as further evidence of creeping secularization, with religious organizations `selling out’ to humane/humanist principles. The argument is, however, not supported by the weight of cultural history, which shows that, in Britain at least, òf® cial’ religion has always had competition: either with superstition, industrialization, urbanization or secularization. Keith Thomas’s Religion and the Decline of Magic (1971) clearly shows that a transition from a Christian age to a secular age cannot be assumed. Indeed, such a sweeping meta-narrative lacks sophistication and is more of a 1960s sociological `construct’ than a serious piece of historical realism. 12. The present debate among some churches over the millennium, over the contents of the Dome at Greenwich, and how to `claim’ it is similar. However, in respect to Christmas, this observation suggests that poster advertising ought perhaps to be simultaneously more subtle and sharper. For example, one way forward might be not to advertise the church at Christmas, but rather the central message of the Christmas story. Following the `Benetton tradition’ (see Figures 13± 15), I suggest a simple black and white sepia photograph of a mother breastfeeding a child, situated in a slum or hovel, with perhaps a shadowy (father) ® gure in the background, trying to make a ® re to keep them all warm. The incarnate resonances are obvious, as is the contrast of the circumstances of Jesus’ birth to the poor and homeless of today. No text would be needed, save a simple and unambiguous label saying `First Christmas’.


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REFERENCES Berger, John. Ways of Seeing. Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1972. Berger, Peter. ª Social Sources of Secularisation.º In Alexander, J. C. & Seidman, S., eds. Culture and Society: Contemporary Debates. Cambridge, Cambridge UP, 1993: 49. Berger, Peter. ª New Attack on the Legitimacy of Business.º Harvard Business Review 16, October 1981: 82± 89. Berger, Peter. ª Religion and the American Future.º In Lipset, S., ed. The Third Century. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1979: 138. Berger, Peter. ª Secular Theology and the Rejection of the Supernatural: Re¯ ections on Recent Trends.º Theological Studies 38 (3), 1977: 39± 56. Berger, Peter. The Sacred Canopy. Garden City: Doubleday, 1967. Berger, Peter. ª A Market Model for the Analysis of Ecumenicity.º Social Research 30 (2), 1963: 75± 90. Berger, Peter & Luckmann, Thomas. The Social Construction of Reality. Garden City: Doubleday, 1967. Brother Kenneth GCA. From the Fathers to the Churches. London: Collins, 1983. Bruce, Steve. Religion in the Modern World: From Cathedrals to Cults. Oxford: Oxford U. P., 1996. Church of England Report. Paying the Piper: Advertising and the Church. London: Church Information Of® ce (CIO), 1994. Clark, Eric. The Want Makers. London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1956 (new ed. 1986). Dyer, Gillian. Advertising as Communication. London: Routledge, 1982. Fowles, Jib. Advertising and Popular Culture. London: Sage, 1996. Lee, Robert. The Social Sources of Church Unity. New York: Abingdon Press, 1960. Myers, Greg. Words in Ads. London: Edward Arnold, 1995. Ogilvy, David. Ogilvy on Advertising. London: Pan, 1983. Ponti® cal Council for Social Communication. ª Ethics in Advertising.º L’Osservatore Romano, English Weekly Edition, 16th April, 1997: 8. Thomas, Keith. Religion and the Decline of Magic. Oxford: Oxford U. P., 1971. van der Ven, Johannes. Ecclesiology in Context. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996. Williamson, Judith. Decoding Advertisements: Ideology and Meaning in Advertising. London: Marion Boyers, 1976. Wuthnow, R.; Hunter, J.; Bergesen, A. & Kurzwell, E., eds. Cultural Analysis: The Work of Peter Berger, Mary Douglas, Michel Foucault and JuÈrgen Habermas. London: Routledge, 1984.