The Unseen Here and
Now . . .
Stuart
Revercomb
Stuart
Revercomb is a marketing consultant and joyously married father of four
children. He seems to remember someone once telling him he ought to be
a writer. "The Unseen Here and Now" -- Thursdays.
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"Thursday's Fare"
Any Which Way the Spirit Moves
Although I'm yet to see one in Roanoke, I understand that the new advertising thing in big cities these days is to "rent" your car out as a traveling billboard.
Yup, if you're willing to ride around with, say, an ad for banana pudding or "underwear dot com" or some such thing, these people will pay you about enough to cover that monthly car payment.
The companies that hook up willing participants with eager marketing directors make sure that the ads are "done right," wrapping vehicles in swaths of computer-generated ad sheets that can turn the average Chevette into a real show stopper. I'm not sure if they could have worked with my old Pontiac Ventura, however. About the only thing "Vinny" was capable of promoting was "Rustoleum" -- or perhaps other 1970s cars, especially the Japanese ones.
The problem with this concept, as I see it, is that it's too easily and cheaply duplicated. What's to keep the average Joe from hanging out his own automotive shingle in search of marketing dollars? A couple of cans of spray paint and you're in business.
Just this morning I saw a fellow practicing this concept in a "nonprofit" sort of way. He was driving what appeared to be a 1984 Chevrolet Caprice. If you've forgotten what a 1984 Caprice looks like, the only thing you really need to remember is that its back window affords about 14 square yards of advertising space. This guy had used it all.
His message?
"Something, something, Union Church" with a big logo in the middle, surrounded by the words, "COME WORSHIP WITH US ON DA FLO".
"On da flo?"
I attend a very average, middle-of-the-road Presbyterian Church and our worship service would likely be deemed more formal than not. I couldn't help but imagine some of our elderly stalwarts "gatoring" on the floor in some spontaneous display of religious passion.
It's safe to say that if one were to perform such an offering -- inspired or otherwise -- that a house call from several members of our Session would be forthcoming.
"Stuart, we're open to new ideas, but let's try to keep the worshiping in the pew will you?"
"Sorry guys, I'm not sure what came over me... I saw this car the other day -- it was a big green Caprice and ..."
"Bob, do we still have a psychiatrist in the congregation?"
Yes, I laughed at the slogan as I hope you are now, but another part of me spoke up and said, "Amen brother and hallelujah to you -- way to get the word out in a way that the Spirit most moves you."
I knew that regardless of my own preconceptions, that somewhere, somehow, this group was likely reaching people in a positive way that wouldn't be happening otherwise.
It's easy to critique the lifestyles of others, especially when they are so varied from our own, and when that includes one's manner of worship we're even more likely to judge. Many of us believe that in terms of methodology there is only one "right" way. Unfortunately, the passion with which we approach such matters of the Spirit sometimes carries over to judgment of those whose understandings are not our own.
This, despite the fact that almost every book within the library we call the Old and New Testament teaches us not to judge. Christ himself made it clear enough in both metaphor and direct speech: "Judge not one another, lest you yourself also be judged."
Perhaps that "doing unto others" thing is somehow related as well.
The Spirit moves in many ways -- from High Mass in the gold gilded cathedrals of Rome, to the quiet pews of the loneliest clapboard church deep in the Appalachians. "He" is there somehow. And perhaps no less in the most eccentric, as well as the most "ordinary," of ways.
Even on the back window of an '84 Caprice?
For some of us and maybe even for all of us, there's no better place to start.