I have one more post I’d like to write on all of this “celebrity culture” business. Lord willing, we’ll put that up next week. But in the meantime, I couldn’t help noticing the tangled webs of multi-site and celebrity in this CT piece on the Mars Hill trademark infringement scuffle. HT: Trevin Wax.
The article begins:
Seattle’s prominent Mars Hill Church says the way it handled a Sacramento, California, church’s similar name and logo was a mistake. The California church, meanwhile, has promised to redesign its logo and website.
Officials from the Ballard, Washington, multisite church say a member called attention to the Sacramento church’s website, asking if the churches were connected. When elders saw a logo similar to their own, which has been in use since 1996, they sent a cease-and-desist letter to Sacramento’s Mars Hill Community Church, which has three locations if its own. Mars Hill Seattle filed an application to trademark its name and logo in August.
“The purpose of including both the name and logo in our filing, as opposed to just our name or just our M logo, is to allow us to prevent other churches from combining a ‘Mars Hill’ name with a substantially similar logo, like what we saw with the Mars Hill churches in Sacramento,” said Mike Anderson, director of communications at the Seattle-area church, which is pastored by Mark Driscoll. “We are not concerned with other Mars Hill churches unless their logo and branding is [similar to] ours. Based on our research, there were no other such churches.”
So many elements of this story fit rather nicely into our framework about celebrity and what makes for either celebrity-seeking or conferring celebrity status I couldn’t pass it up as a case study.
First, the very first word of the piece is “Prominent.” There’s no story if there’s no prominence, notoriety, or fame. The entire process of celebrity-making depends upon some level of notoriety in some subculture.
Second, notice the dominance of narrative as a driving force in the piece. This article works as “newsworthy” only because it involves Mars Hill Seattle. There’s a story already in play about that church and its pastor upon which this incident gets layered. In fact, the writer couldn’t avoid mentioning Mark Driscoll even though there’s no comment by, for, or about Mark. The “back story” seems interesting to the media because of the always evolving “front story” of Driscoll and Mars Hill. The more complex the story evolves, the more opportunity for celebrity-seeking, celebrity-gawking, and celebrity-conferral.
Write this about First Baptist of Kalamazoo and Pastor Tom Jones and there’s no story or public interest (except for that very brief moment when the mention of “Tom Jones” makes you go, “Wait, is it that Tom Jones?”–proving again that notoriety and public interest are critical for celebrity). If the media has responsibility for choosing good news items that don’t trade in celebrity narrative, this piece fails miserably in my opinion.
Third, notice the conflict featured in the report. The brouhaha involves registered trademarks and infringements. Now, a host of questions come to mind about this, including:
- Why would a church register a trademark?
- Is said church a church or a business?
- What does branding suggest about the influence of marketing mentality on a church’s outlook and operation?
- What does branding and legally confronting another church over name and logo suggest about any competitive spirit and pride?
- Does trademark, brand, and logos have anything to do with representing Jesus or simply representing our own unique… uh… brand… of Christian faith and life?
- Is all of this evidence of celebrity-seeking? Has someone failed to guard against tendencies (known or otherwise) that lead toward celebrity status? If so, what should or could be done differently?
These are questions, not allegations. They’re questions for us all to ask of our churches even if we haven’t gone as far as registering a trademark or confronting others about them. At bottom, are we approaching the ministry in a way that singles us out, promotes us as much as we promote Christ, and builds a reputation (i.e., narrative) that attracts celebrity-status?
Fourth, what a tangled web we weave when our multi-sites get involved with other multi-sites! The boundaries and identity of the local church is pretty easy when we follow what’s been called a “traditional model.” With traditional models we know the who’s who and how to interact. There’s no identity confusion. Even churches sharing the same name–whether Mars Hill or First Baptist–distinguish themselves simply by citing their mailing address or pointing to the physical location where they meet. Now we need conference calls, negotiations, and possible legal wrangling. Here’s a silly case in point about how multi-site as a strategy changes the game in unhelpful and unpredictable ways. It’s also a case in point for how multi-site churches–while most Christians are not attending them and most pastors will never pastor one–affect all churches, including those in far-away areas. But you already know my view of some multi-site church approaches.
Fifth, when you’re known it’s really easy to land in the newspaper! Once you become a “story,” you’re cursed with more attention than you can handle or need. Remember mama’s rule: Don’t leave home without clean underwear. You don’t want your mess in the paper.
In the end, I’m glad the churches were able to pick up the phone, talk with one another, and resolve things well. That’s the good news in the story. Shame it didn’t get more attention than the conflict itself. Wouldn’t it have been less celebrity-inducing to tell us about the application of peacemaking principles than to give disproportionate space to describing the ruckus. Or, at the least, telling us the behind the scenes story of making peace would have created the right kind of “celebrity.” A small cautionary tale for us all.
