Supersize it?

Can our Catholic churches compete with today's megachurches? And should they?

BIGGER IS ALWAYS BETTER. OR IS IT? IT'S EASY ENOUGH to debunk the good old conventional wisdom by asking what exactly is being measured. If the subject for discussion is the box office gross from Titanic or Star Wars, bigger is better for their producers. But if quality is more important than quantity, "bigger is better" may be a canard.

These thoughts came to mind when reading a comprehensive article in the Los Angeles Times on the so-called megachurches that have arisen throughout the United States, particularly in California and the Southwest.

Megachurches are defined as congregations with 2,000 or more members, "offering polished services and practical messages in supersized sanctuaries." Saddleback Valley Community Church in Orange County, California claims membership of 14,500 and is described in the L.A. Times report as a "seeker sensitive" church that "stresses innovation and reaches out to people unfamiliar with traditional religion. Led by self-styled religious entrepreneurs, they use sophisticated business techniques to create a spiritual product for choosy suburban consumers."

For those of us familiar with traditional religious observance in relatively small congregations, such mass (no pun intended) praying or merely witnessing is hard to imagine. While some of the megachurches are evangelical with sincere prayer, others seem more like show business. Individual members of these communities may well be faithfully seeking God, asking forgiveness for sins, perhaps, and/or resolving to lead better lives.

But I wonder. Isn't it possible that some of these ceremonies are more feel-good exercises than intercommunion between the people (who used to be in the pew) and God? Not that there isn't a feel-good element in the worship of Catholics and mainline Protestants, when the music is good, the liturgy is meaningful, and the homily is evocative. (Praise the Lord!) And, unfortunately, those attending traditional religious services are sometimes merely spectators.

It is not to disparage the megachurches to be reminded of the tent revivals conjured up by Sinclair Lewis in his novel Elmer Gantry. The hyper-emotionalism of the revival was even more vividly portrayed in the film version of the novel--and Lewis, of course, was mocking a bit.

While this writer has had no firsthand experience of megachurch religious services, is it unreasonable to think of them as huge pep rallies, perhaps something akin to the Promise Keepers rallies in football stadiums? Stripping away the sometimes questionable social agenda of the latter group (sexism, for example), who can quarrel with the phenomenon of people pledging to lead better lives?

Some religious scholars believe that the megachurches in the United States have peaked--that their popularity has begun to wane and will continue to do so. Ironically, some of the largest have begun to break into smaller groups within their mass memberships.

Saddleback, one of the largest, is considering tables and chairs--instead of pews--in a new 6,000-seat sanctuary as a way to help worshipers feel more connected in small groups.

Saddleback saw a pause in its growth, the Los Angeles Times story reported, because of nightmarish traffic problems. "The church began growing again only after spending $4.5 million to improve road access to its 118-acre campus.

"Even with a heavy dose of ingenuity, most megachurches will eventually run out of space, pastors say. One method to continue the spread of a megachurch is through the planting of `daughter churches' or the establishment of quasi-denominational networks of like-minded churches."

Doesn't all the popularity of the megachurches send a message to the traditional churches such as our own Catholic Church? And why do young people, such as the Generation X cohort, show little or no interest in religious faith? Shouldn't those of us who care about this weakness gather for some hard thinking?

Would it be worth experimenting with a kind of "tough love" approach to our religious observance? Throw out the balm and bring in the astringent? Jesus never promised us a rose garden when it came to acting out our faith. Living our religion as it should be can be hard, perhaps must be hard. Maybe such an approach wouldn't work, but maybe it would. Maybe it's worth a try.