The Shopocolypse

Photo swiped from Rev Billy without permission - forgive me!

I saw Reverend Billy's show yesterday at Dixon Place, an entertaining and emotional event. I'm quite honored to say that I've known him for many years, from before he was the Reverend, even.

Reverend Billy, who occupies the mortal container that is Bill Talen, is the Minister of the Church of Stop Shopping. His activities are portrayed in the recent Morgan Spurlock documentary, "What Would Jesus Buy?". Billy evangelizes an anti-consumerist creed that worships the small in favor of the large, the personal in favor of the commercial and the local as the best angel of the global. He preaches against the evils of the big box and the brand name. He holds particular distaste for those corporations that cultivate, at great expense, a veneer of social awareness and sensitivity to the needs of the individual when in fact they are entirely motivated by the same thing that drives all large businesses: profit.

The afternoon service was a simple event. Upon arrival I found a bare stage in the center of a beautiful new theater steadily filling with audience - parishioners. The setting couldn't have been more elemental; a blank back wall, no drapes or curtains. At stage right loomed a serviceable upright piano, a digital keyboard and an electric bass on a stand. There was a nice basic ceremonial vibe, like a clearing in the forest or a revival tent.

The show was exceptional on a few levels. First off, the choir rocked hard and excellently. I attended a Church of Stop Shopping event a few years ago, it was meaningful and fun, and the choir was very good. But the choir in 2008 is just plain slammin'. Directed by James Solomon Benn, the Stop Shopping Gospel Choir is the backbone of energy and spirit for the proceedings. I didn't get an actual count, but maybe 20 members drove the space throughout the event. A fine variety of spectacular singers traded solos, from ripping gospel to sweet ballads, setting up the point of view and attitude.

I was treated to a song of cronyism in the boardroom, another encouraging the shunning of Walmart and one exhorting the gathered crowd to stop shopping. As the various tunes resonated throughout the theater, the Reverend clapped along on the sidelines, stamping his feet and uttering an occasional well-placed "Halleluja".

Once the tone of the service had been thoroughly established, Billy took the stage and delivered a measured and thoughtful sermon. He covered topics that ranged from Jdymytai Damour, the minimum-wage temp worker trampled to death by overeager shoppers at the black Friday opening of a Long Island Walmart, to the pre-Christian meaning of Christmas as a winter solstice fertility and survival rite. One might think that this sort of thing would feel, um, preachy - or at least guilt inducing. The genius of Reverend Billy is that he is able to provide a sense of uplift and humor to a message that is normally associated with dour funlessness and resignation. Reverend Billy has dedicated many of his years finding ways to bring satisfaction and even triumph to simple personal acts like visiting a public park or shopping at a local business. And when the inevitable moment arrives in the show when someone in the audience - or choir - is caught with their Starbucks cup mid-sip, Billy bows his head humbly and intones, "We're all sinners here." This is a fight we're in together.

I don't pretend to have the answers to the ills of the world, and I suspect that even if the solutions turn out to be simple in theory, they will be tortuously difficult to bring to reality. I can say that when I've felt a little down, a brush with Reverend Billy always pulls me up or at least makes me feel I may point myself in the right direction. If you've got a bit of worldly malaise and want to get it cured up, you could do a lot worse than check out The Church of Stop Shopping.