The Dangers of the Digital Church

The megachurch just had to be uber-cool: It was painted black. Not the skivvy black favoured by fashion designers, but charcoal like a remains of a cooling campfire. A street sign in the shape of a crucifix hung from the outside wall of the converted warehouse in Seattle’s industrial suburbs and bore the words “Jesus Saves”. To get there you had to hurry past the homeless people permanently mushroomed under a freeway overpass, but that edginess gave attending the church extra street cred.

Inside, there was a lounge setting – again, black – and a faux fireplace that intimated they were more shopfront props than a greeting area. No one sat. No one lingered. With only two minutes to spare, a young welcomer gave a curt hello to our party of four from Sydney, then ushered us into the world-famous Mars Hill Church.

As far as the eye could see, there was an expanse of comfortable seats – all black. Out of an estimated 2000 chairs available, only 30 per cent were filled. Maybe parishioners here arrived fashionably late. Maybe it was the summer holidays. Maybe it was the 7pm service. Maybe Seattle was still greatly unchurched. Or maybe the series of public stumbles by Mars Hill’s figurehead Mark Driscoll had thinned the ranks. Maybe. Read more