Religion in the Pacific Northwest: The Vogue Zone

Why do Evangelicals successfully start so many churches in the Pacific Northwest, asks scholar James Wellman, in an essay titled, “The Churching of the Pacific Northwest:  The Rise of  Sectarian Entrepreneurs” (included in Religion in the Pacific Northwest: The None Zone (http://www.amazon.com/Religion-Public-Life-Pacific-Northwest/dp/0759106258 ).  Wellman, with adroit use of statistics, argues that the Pacific Northwest’s fecundity for Evangelical church planting springs primarily from its “none zone” status: our residents’ tendency to mark “none,” when asked about religious affiliation.  The absence of a dominant denomination creates an “open religious market” in the eyes of  Pacific Northwest (PNW) Evangelicals, where people are neither committed to nor hampered by denominational ties that would limit them from trying out and joining a new church, says Wellman.

But numerical statistics miss the most important part of the story of Evangelical entrepreneurs in the PNW.  And that has to do with the cutting-edge style of new Evangelical churches in the PNW.  Rather than the “None Zone,” it is the “Vogue Zone” that explains the thriving Evangelical church start scene in the Pacific Northwest.  To his credit, Wellman notes the openness of PNW church-planting pastors to new media and contemporary worship practices.  But these two factors, not really described nor explored by Wellman, don’t begin to explain why the Vogue Zone  has a specific Evangelical identity, and has contributed to so many church starts.  These Evangelical elements of  the Vogue Zone include. . .

No Edifice Complex For Evangelicals, church buildings and their historic preservation are less important than creating spaces that are accessible and accommodating to those who might not otherwise consider the Gospel call.   Evangelical faith has an intrepid quality, a restlessness to invite others to church, to assess one’s church by its growth in numbers, and to think strategically about neighborhoods as zones for evangelism.  Consequently, in Evangelicalism we see intrepid, physical movement of congregations to new buildings, seeking better locations and facilities.  These frequent moves foster an engine of style innovation, unhampered by the inert mass of a building that dictates style.  For example, Imago Dei Community in Portland began with a small circle of fellow believers inviting friends and colleagues to their house worship gatherings – a common format for church starts.  As the worshipping community grew, it purchased an old church building in Portland’s Laurelhurst  neighborhood, a dark- timbered, vaulted ceiling church, illuminated by daylight streaming through stained glass windows depicting important biblical scenes – a sanctuary exquisitely in sync with Imago Dei’s sensual, spare and low-tech aesthetic.  Despite the beauty and historic allure of the Laurelhurst  sanctuary, neighborhood street parking and the building’s seating ultimately could no longer hold the burgeoning congregation.  So, the church rented a large auditorium at inner-city Franklin High School.  Then, straining against that space, Imago Dei struck a deal to trade their old Laurelhurst  property with Portland Four-Square Church’s campus, which had become too large for the shrinking Four-Square congregation.  At each stop along the way Imago Dei has innovated its aesthetic, re-styling both the “dress” of the building and worship in a style that expresses Imago Dei’s values and experience of God.

The Creative Class There is a distinct Creative Class that is being drawn to Evangelicalism.  Portland, Oregon is renown for its creative community’s work in film, writing and design.  Some of the more distinguished among them have embraced Evangelicalism.  While I can’t speculate on all the reasons within this essay,  I would suggest two.  First, Evangelicals’ contemporary style worship lowers barriers among the young creatives, who might not otherwise consider trying out church.  Second, the conservative life-style of Evangelicals may appeal to creatives who have witnessed the destructive fall-out of substance abuse and casual sex among their peers.

The Willow Creek influence James Wellman calls the leaders of these Evangelical church-starts, “entrepreneurs,” and he is right, in that they are often unattached to the “capital” of a sponsoring denomination.  But there is a sort of para-denomination that has had vast style influence among Evangelicals:  Willow Creek Community Church, of the Chicago area.  Willow Creek has evolved into functions that were previously carried out by denominations, particularly development of Christian Education curricula.  Willow Creek’s curricula, used by an estimated 4000 churches, has a strong design identity, emphasizing graphic arts, teaching skits, recorded music, and compellingly designed publications, all packaged and integrated so that a church can, in essence, purchase a “style,” that is, the Willow Creek Style.  (see http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2000/november13/5.62.html

Retail culture influences. “Seeker-friendly” Evangelical churches have taken not just a page, but the whole training manual from high service, high style retail business, what I have dubbed the “Lordstrom” phenomenon.   (http://www.crosscurrents.org/swensonwinter2004.htm) The fashion-cum-service aesthetic of retail is liberally borrowed by Evangelicals.   Information kiosks, a cup of espresso, discreet digital information screens in the sanctuary that alert parents to the nursery, umbrellas at the doorways, free Bibles and simple sermon outlines, brilliantly attractive websites that are kept up-to-date –  these are practices adapted from retail culture.  This borrowing can occur because business is viewed positively by politically conservative Evangelicals, unlike the Mainline, where “capitalism” is routinely criticized, and fashion is specifically condemned as exploitative, superficial, and engaged in oppressive factory practices.

Fashion Loves Conservatism Conservative sexual ethics actually provide a safe space for fashion and its gendered performances.  It is not uncommon to see skin-bearing sundresses, revealingly tight clothing, stiletto heels, of-the-moment hair and make-up, and other arch-feminine styling among Evangelical women at worship.  At first I was stunned by this, expecting to see conservative style among these women.  But I came to appreciate that Evangelical women assume that church is a safe space for this display of their beauty and its attributes, because this social space is bounded by conventions of Christian chastity – no one would assume that such clothing and appearance suggest  sexual availability.  Likewise, as the women pursue fashion, so too their men.  Trendily bleached hair, earrings, the latest fashion in eyeglasses, boots, tight jeans, etc., are completely conventional garb for men.

If the Vogue Zone has such specific Evangelical sources, can the Mainline enter in?  The Mainline’s respect for history and community roots prohibit the easy disposal of its buildings; the younger Creative Class is missing from its pews not because Mainline worship is “old” (ancient liturgy is experiencing a revival among young Evangelicals), but because it can be dowdy, lacking urgency and verve; Willow Creek materials will annoy many Mainliners because of their conservative theology; and business and fashion aren’t sources of inspiration and emulation for the Mainline, but enterprises demanding social criticism.

Is Mainline liberalism inextricably caught in its own “No Vogue Zone”?

Preservation or Renovation? Pearl Church, Portland, OR

It was illuminating to attend Pearl Church and my own church’s worship, back-to-back, on a recent Sunday.  Pearl Church, in its Evangelical context, is attempting to reclaim historical practices that modern Evangelical culture has largely abandoned or never learned in the first place: lectionary readings, silence, processions, readings from the wider Church including Eastern Orthodoxy, as well as setting a higher tone to sacraments and rituals such as Holy Communion.  The Protestant Old-Line, of which my church is a member,  never gave up these practices.  So, what happens when a younger, Evangelical congregation re-grips these traditions, along with electric guitars, drums and an amp’ed-up violin?   Does historical worship feel freshly renovated, or stiltedly preserved?  To answer these questions, let’s tread up the (recycled) rubber steps of the Eco-Trust Building, to the second floor environment of the Pearl church.

I love that Pearl Church, in “recycling” ancient church practices, gathers in a building that exemplifies it, the Eco-Trust Building in Portland’s Pearl District. The church gathers on the second floor, a space shows the bones of its industrial past with a rustic, beamed ceiling and large windows running the wall’s expanse behind the worship leaders.  It is a long room whose chairs are arranged in a semi-oval before a carefully composed communion table.  The table itself is centered by a wooden Celtic cross that looks like it was recovered from your grandfather’s Presbyterian church.  The table is set for Holy Communion, with three goblets of wine, glass trays of bread cubes, and large, modern cylinders of spring tulips.

People don’t just style things – they style their human relationships, evident here in how Pearl handles its social space.  Frankly, it’s weird here: an awkwardness lingers and puzzles me long after I leave.  I am one of about forty people at the 8:30 AM service, so hardly lost in the crowd.  But the only person who greets me the entire service is the official greeter, who hands me a worship bulletin as I say hello to her.  I take a seat near the back, and my short row is soon filled by the greeter and her husband.  Sitting side by side with them for nearly an hour, there is no eye contact or other social connection made by us.  This is a startling departure from any other Evangelical service I have attended.  What does it mean?

The same sort of social restraint occurs in the music.  The worship band, made up of  vocalists who also play guitars, a small drum set, and a gorgeously plaintive violin, sing a sort of blue-grass, rock’n’roll’ed version of both Christian contemporary classics (Hear Our Praises, 1998) and traditional hymns (O Love That Will Not Let Me God, 1882).  The music is compelling, but the musicians hardly make eye contact with us in the congregation, almost averting their eyes at times, it seems.  Consistent with this, the congregation’s response is also restrained, with nary a raised hand, or other typical Evangelical gestures of extemporaneous exuberance.  My only explanation is that perhaps, in rejecting loud, entertainment-driven, seeker-friendly,  Evangelical worship style, they have also consciously decided to reject its social culture.

I become acutely aware of this as I enter my own church, Cedar Hills United Church of Christ, at 10AM.  While we don’t have Pearl’s contemporary music, nor its mass of young adults, we have similar liturgical elements as Pearl’s — plus an obvious buzz and love in the room.  I’m not particularly active at my church, but still I can’t get to my chair without a hug from the greeter, warm hands on my back as I squeeze down a row of chairs, and a joke or two about my not having a proper name badge.

Back to Pearl:  the worship begins with announcements, and here I have to notice the complex mix of this congregation.  The leader announcing is probably of Pacific Island heritage.  He introduces two women who speak about a heroic, over-seas service project to serve women and children.  The violinist is Asian, the drummer a woman. The lectionary readings are performed by both a white woman and a black man, and a second black man is also in attendance.  That such a small, Evangelical gathering disproportionately features women and racial minorities – especially in very-white Portland —  is notable.

There is deep thoughtfulness and – yes – discerning taste in every verbal and nonverbal action performed by the church’s worship leaders that are hugely appealing.  This linguistic self-consciousness, however, comes at the expense of the preacher’s delivery of the sermon – he reads his sermon at times, and occasionally stammers or internally deliberates before selecting the right word of phrase. But, I am won over by his otherwise outstanding meditation on Sabbath-keeping as an act of providing rest for others.  Clearly, as Pearl reclaims the church’s historical traditions, it is also reclaiming articulate English instead of the rambling, extemporaneous and slangy language common to young worship leaders in other Evangelical churches.  This intelligent, subtle and quiet aesthetic demands the worshipper think a little harder, come a little closer, observe a little longer, listen a little more keenly.

My essay’s opening question has its parallel in a decorator’s dilemma:  when is honoring a past style exciting renovation or too-proud preservation?  Recently I saw a pictorial article in the New York Times about dated home decors, cherished and untouched by their homeowners despite the passage of decades. http://www.nytimes.com/2009/06/25/garden/25capsules.html?_r=2&ref=garden

The article was called, “Living in a Time Capsule,”