Do You Want Salvation With That? Spirituality In a Fast Food Nation
 by Nancy McShane
presented April 10, 2005, at the 1st Unitarian Universalist Church of Springfield

          I recall in the days of my childhood, a special little ritual my parents had built around Friday nights. Once a month or so, my dad would have to work late at the bank. So my mom would take all us kids either to A&W for coneys and root beer or to McDonald’s, where the only choices were hamburgers, cheeseburgers or—my personal favorite—“fush samwiches.” We kids ate in the car then came home and were put to bed. When my dad got home, he and my mom had wine, steak and fancy Stauffer’s frozen spinach soufflé. What I didn’t learn until I was grown was that my dad never had to work late. He would just hang around down at the bank reading the evening paper until my mom gave him the all clear sign.

But even as a child I had a pretty good idea that the ritual wasn’t so much about McDonald’s and A&W as it was about wine, steak and spinach soufflé. I was, after all, raised an Episcopalian! The burgers were OK, but what really fascinated me—and what my sister and I used to crawl out of bed to spy on—was the ritual surrounding my mom and dad preparing and eating their Friday night meal. We were so into it that we’d sometimes beg scraps from underneath the table like little dogs; and if we were good we’d sometimes be offered the almost empty soufflé tin to lick clean.

This tale might give you some idea why I’m not a very big fan of fast food. I once worked in a McDonald’s in college and trust me, there is no mystery surrounding the preparation of a Big Mac, not even the “special sauce” which is really just glorified Thousand Island dressing. The only mystery is why someone would eat in a place whose kitchen floor is covered in a slippery layer of French-fry grease which condenses out of the air. I only worked there as a reminder of what would happen if I flunked out of j-school.

I tried to pass on this healthy skepticism of fast food to my kids. It’s not like I never let them eat there, we had our own little rituals built around McDonald’s. As a poor single mother I don’t think I could have gotten through some rainy Sunday afternoons if it hadn’t been for Happy Meals and indoor play places. It was the only way I could find enough time to read the Sunday paper. I’d buy two Happy Meals, finish the kids’ scraps and get by on free drink refills. But even these Sunday sanity suppers were an occasional treat. Home-cooked mom meals were the real ritual in our little family.

But our fast food bubble burst when we saw the documentary “Super Size Me” by Morgan Spurlock. Under extensive medical supervision, Spurlock subjects himself to a steady diet of McDonald’s cuisine for 30 days just to see what happens. In less than a week, his ordinarily fit body and equilibrium undergo dark and ugly changes: Spurlock grows fat, his cholesterol rockets north, his organs take a beating and he becomes subject to headaches, mood swings, symptoms of addiction and lessened sexual energy. Spurlock spends most of the film probing insidious ways that fast food companies worm their way into school lunchrooms and the hearts of young children who spend hours in McDonald’s playrooms. 

As I watched this film, I was eerily reminded of another sector of our society that has begun to use marketing tactics similar to those used by the fast food industry. In fact, I began to see many parallels between the fast food industry and what I like to call the McChurches, those ecclesiastical equivalents of the Golden Arches. If there is one thing that southwest Missouri does not lack it is fast food restaurants and church with hulking gymnasium additions.

Why does this bother me so? Should I just pass it off to encroaching curmudgeonliness and simply add it to my list of things to bitch and moan about along with a) the interchange at James River Expressway and Glenstone b) people who don’t signal their intent to turn until halfway through their turn and c) non-conformity in women’s clothing sizes.

Could it be envy? As a board member, might it be crossing my mind that in churches size does matter? Nah, I think “size matters” is as much a myth for churches as it is for men’s…ahem…manliness. I think that size matters only in the case of too big. Stay with me, I’m still talking about churches here. If a church is too big you cease to be a name, you only become a number…the amount of money you pledge to pay back the building bond.

As I mull over what bothers me about these churches, and what thinking about them can help me learn about our own church, I keep returning to the same marketing phrases and slogans. I mean, you just know that at some time at one of these building committee meetings for one of these future McChurches around town, some wiseacre looked at the blueprints and exclaimed: “Super-Size It!”

These are “big box” churches akin to the “big box” super stores like Best Buy, Barnes & Noble, Lowes and Bed, Bath & Beyond. Big is the operative word here. “Big box” stores feature a dazzling array of merchandise from which to choose. Did you know that James River Assembly has not just a gymnasium but an on-site health club? “Big box stores have smiling, attractive salespeople to make sure you don’t leave empty-handed. Well, you’ve seen enough TV commercials featuring Pastor John Lindell and his pretty wife, Debbie, to know James River Assembly has got smiling and attractive down in spades. 

OK, so James River Assembly is big, REAL big; we’ve established that. So what’s wrong with that? It’s a free country, especially for evangelicals. If you and your family want to attend a church that meets the needs of the whole family—mind, body and soul—well what’s wrong with that? What could be easier for a young family with children, especially for one from out of town, than to join a ready-made community?

In case you have been asleep or have been in China with the Prescotts, a new McChurch is opening up right up the street. Surely you’ve received at least 4 postcards and 2 phone calls for Springfield Community Church. You must have noticed the signs on your way here this morning. It’s slick, very slick. Good looking smiling people. And Kona coffee. For some reason they’re always pushing the Kona coffee. Here’s their pitch:

Our desire is to be the place of worship in the greater Springfield area where people of all walks of life, all economic levels, all ethnic origins, all languages, and all needs are welcome. We desire to journey together to become authentic in our relationship with Jesus Christ. We desire to be a fellowship where children matter, families are valued, and everyone is loved.

We celebrate with our fellow believers, of all Christian churches, for what God is doing in their midst. We are not launching the Springfield Community Church to compete with other believers or churches. Our desire is to be relevant in a world that is often confusing and overwhelming. We desire to love the loveless, touch the untouchable and to inspire the uninspired. Many in our community have had negative church experiences in the past, and we are deeply sorry for the hurts any church has inflicted. We desire to be different.  

At Springfield Community Church you will meet people that want to become a genuine friend to you and your family. You can come as you are, dress as you like, and feel free to be yourself. You will experience great music and meaningful scriptural messages that are relevant to our life today. You will immediately notice that this is a place where children are important. We accept joyfully our task to teach Biblical truths to children that will give them a healthy moral foundation throughout their lives.        

After a week like yours, you need a church like this.

A McChurch such as this can provide you with ready-made friends, a place to exercise, go for coffee, buy books, and see movies—all with free childcare. The choices seem limitless.

In fact, they seem a lot like the “choices” one is presented with in kindergarten. Remember how it was on your first day? A wonderful room filled with so many fun, colorful things. And the pretty lady kneels down next to you and sweetly says “And what would you like to do today? Fingerpaint? Or play with clay? How about fingerpainting!”

That’s the kind of choices I imagine you get at McChurches. “And what would you like to do today? Bible study? Or Praise Band? How about Bible study!”

So our hypothetical young family of four joins Bible study on Wednesday night, attends one of the four Sunday services and Sunday School and sleeps well at night sure that they have all but arrived at the Pearly Gates. 

But don’t you think there’s more to spirituality than that? Is it really so easy to achieve salvation that you can append it to your order almost as an afterthought? “Do you want salvation with that?” says the disembodied voice over the speaker. “Sure,” you reply, “and super size it!”

That sounds like so many empty spiritual calories to me. They fill you up but don’t nourish you. They leave you feeling bloated. That’s how I felt when I was feeding myself a steady diet of fast food religion. Let’s see, what were the words Morgan Spurlock used to describe himself after a week of eating nothing but McDonald’s food? Oh yeah, “dark and ugly, subject to headaches and mood swings.” That about sums me up as a practicing Episcopalian.

And that’s where I might have stayed if someone didn’t point out to me that spiritually, you don’t learn everything you need to know in kindergarten. You learn some of it in middle school. And grad school. And in on-the-job training. And, as Judy so eloquently put it, at the Senior Center. You keep learning about life and death and God and not-God until the day you die. You develop your own theology then refine and edit every day of your life. Every person you meet, past and present, is both teacher and student. Every book you read, every movie you see is a teaching moment and a learning experience. How can I know today whether what I learn and experience tomorrow will change my theology in some profound way. Or not. Who knows? Not me. And certainly not Pastor John Lindell.

See, it’s the process of living that gives us the ingredients that we use to form our world view, and our “other world” view. It really can’t be served to you with a side of fries. This process of living is what I was talking about at the beginning of the sermon, in my story about my parents and their Friday night “Dad has to work late” ritual. My mom was working her sleight of hand trying to get us kids to focus on Ronald McDonald and A&W Baby Burger in her left hand while her right hand was chilling the wine and tossing a Stauffer’s spinach soufflé into the oven. But my sister and I were spiritually bereft. We hungered for the truth. Was there more to life than a plastic monkey perched on the side of your mug of root beer? (for you young’uns out there, this was w-a-y before Happy Meal toys, but it’s kind of the same concept.) We weren’t going to fall prey to instant gratification; we weren’t going to settle for anything less than that which satisfied the soul.

Which didn’t mean that we got to join our parents in their Friday night suppers. We continued to eat “fush samwiches” and beg for scraps under the table, but we struggled and we learned that if we wanted a late-night supper of steak and spinach soufflé that we’d damn well better learn how to prepare it for ourselves. So now we’re the ones who work late the occasional Friday night while ordering the kids a Dominoes pizza.

So what learning experience do I think all of this has for our church? Maybe that bigger isn’t necessarily better. That people’s names are still more important than numbers, which is one reason we have name tags, and publish a church directory, so we can learn one another’s names. I also think that though we have a wide variety of spiritual and social opportunities here at 1^st UU, that our members should also avail themselves of lots of other spiritual and social opportunities so they can meet lots of different people. Not that UUs aren’t great people, but hey, there are lots of great non-UUs too. So by all means, come to the film group, but also see films at SMS and local theatres. Be a part of our book group, but join one at the library, too. Stay for coffee after service, but hang out at the Mudhouse downtown, you’ll meet lots of diverse, interesting people. Volunteer for some church committees, but volunteer in the greater Springfield community as well—the opportunities are endless.

Our church doesn’t exist in a vacuum. We need to have our members be an integral part of the community so that our church can be an integral part of the community. Our church needs to nourish our members spiritually so that our members can be free to nourish the church.

At any rate, whether you prefer a “big box” church or a small church, rest assured that as long as 1^st UU is in town, there will be a spiritual choice so you’re assured to “have it your way.”

Have a nice day!

Last update: 05 May 2005
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