IDOLS, ICONS & GODS
Celebrity and religion come together to help followers find meaning.
For decades, religion and celebrity have been at odds. But the two forces have recently come together to help young followers find meaning in an increasingly nihilistic world Sabrina Maddeaux,
It’s difficult to imagine anyone rebranding a 2,000- year- old seminal religious teaching at a music festival that The Guardian calls “the world’s most sought after selfie destination.”
And yet, on Easter morning at this year’s Coachella Music Festival, Kanye West hosted a concert-cum-church service atop “The Mountain,” a custom-built hill constructed just for the occasion. The spectacle was a clear appropriation of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus’s longest teaching in the New Testament which includes both the Beatitudes and the Lord’s Prayer.
The congregation included the Kardashian clan alongside the likes of Justin and Hailey Bieber, Willow and Jaden Smith, Idris Elba, Kid Cudi and Donald Glover. Rapper DMX, now a transitional deacon en route to becoming an ordained pastor, led a prayer and West performed in the company of a 50-person strong gospel choir outfitted in mauve ponchos and pants to match.
The event was a grandiose extension of West’s ongoing Sunday Service. Since January, the rapper has presented weekly church services to an exclusive, invite- only crowd. While the locations vary, the format has remained consistent: West performs or preaches ( depending on your perspective) in front of a live band and choir that are just as likely to jump into a song from their leader’s discography as they are to engage in a gospel classic.
This isn’t the first time West has dabbled in religion. In 2006, he posed as Jesus Christ, complete with a crown of thorns on his head, for the cover of Rolling Stone. His selfgiven nickname is Yeezus. He has a hit song titled “Jesus Walks,” and described his release The Life of Pablo as “a gospel album with a lot of cursing.” In May, West and Kardashian announced the name of their new son: Psalm.
While West’s past connection with Christianity has mostly been seen by critics as further evidence of the artist’s god complex, there’s been further skepticism surrounding his latest cross-promotion with religion. Some view the whole endeavour as one big publicity stunt; others suggest it represents something even more sinister: The commodification of religion. West sells “church clothes” including “church socks” for $ 50 alongside sweatshirts branded “holy spirit” from $ 165-$ 225. Nonetheless, West’s fans and many younger members of the Christian community have been uncannily receptive to his recent adventures in Christianity.
The relationship between celebrity and religion hasn’t always been so balmy. The rise of television as a dominant cultural force in the 1960s heralded their collision. Film and music stars catapulted to unprecedented levels of fame during this period, receiving a form of public adulation previously reserved for holy figures. This was heightened by the introduction of infotainment shows, which often used religious terminology such as “worship,” “idol,” “icon” and even “god,” to cover pop culture. Some religious institutions changed too: The second Vatican council sanctioned masses conducted in English for the first time (rather than solely in Latin), which set the stage for televangelists to become household names.
But on August 11, 1966, John Lennon swiftly and single-handedly turned the Bible Belt against The Beatles, and deepened the rift between religion and popular entertainment. “We’re more popular than Jesus right now,” he said in an interview. “I don’t know which will go first: rock ’n’ roll or Christianity. Jesus was all right, but his disciples were thick and ordinary. It’s them twisting it that ruins it for me.”
Radio DJS smashed records live on air, fans staged mass burnings of Beatles music and an Ohio pastor threatened to excommunicate anyone from his congregation who attended a Beatles concert. One Alabama radio station invited listeners to destroy their Beatles paraphernalia with an industrial-grade tree- grinding machine borrowed from the local municipal council.
There have since been countless battles between pop culture’s biggest names and religion, with both sides launching attacks. The Vatican itself condemned Madonna’s “Like a Prayer” music video; Lady Gaga has been called blasphemous not just by the Catholic League, but also Katy Perry; and Evangelicals claim
Britney Spears failed them. Sinéad O’connor tore up a picture of the pope on Saturday Night Live, Ariana Grande left the Catholic Church because of LGBTQ issues and the list of publicly atheist A-list celebs includes Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie, Daniel Radcliffe, Julianne Moore and Morgan Freeman.
Historically, religious leaders have feared the influence that entertainers wield while celebs have shunned religion as out-of-touch, dangerous and, perhaps most damaging of all, uncool. In 2015, observant Jew and Big Bang Theory star Mayim Bialik told Fox News, “It’s never going to be trendy to be observant or religious in Hollywood circles.”
Some critics argue, however, that the longstanding tension between faith and celebrity is a result of their many similarities. In his book Religion and Popular Culture, religious scholar Chris Klassen writes, “The way fans revere superstars such as Elvis or Lady Gaga looks very similar to how Catholics revere saints.” Religion and fame are products of faith that run on worship and community.
Both also demand self-sacrifice, whether that be following in Jesus’s footsteps and taking vows of poverty and celibacy, or demanding celebs give up the right to privacy and normalcy. In her book Consuming Religion, Yale professor of religious studies, Kathryn Lofton devotes a chapter to Britney Spears, whom she presents first as a religious figure then, during her infamous 2007 meltdown, a sacrificial subject.
We use celebrity gossip and tabloid culture to reinforce societal norms similar to how we learn from parables in religious texts. The Parable of the Rich Fool warns about the accumulation of wealth as does the condemnation of celebrities who flaunt their deep pockets too conspicuously. The Good Samaritan teaches compassion and kindness as does our praise of celebrities who help strangers, leave large tips or, in the recent case of Kim Kardashian, fight for prison reform.
When celebrities die, we hold vigils in their wake. After the deaths of stars such as Michael Jackson, Princess Diana, Kurt Cobain and Heath Ledger, fans created candlelit shrines at which they laid flowers for days, if not weeks, afterwards. We’ve recently even gone as far as to resurrect dead celebrities like Tupac Shakur, Amy Winehouse and Whitney Houston via hologram.
The ongoing battle between religion and celebrity in many ways mirrors the war between gods old and new in Neil Gaiman’s novel and adapted TV series American Gods. In Gaiman’s story, deities gain strength from human worship. As our attentions shift, old gods age and die. Ancient supreme beings like Odin and Anansi are out; the new gods of tech, media and globalization are in. There’s only so much worship to go around, and even a divine being can’t survive being forgotten.
Yet, just when religion and celebrity seem diametrically opposed, some of the world’s biggest stars are openly embracing and publicizing their beliefs.
Justin and Hailey Bieber connected at a NYC megachurch and are highly vocal about their Christianity, even committing to a year-long abstinence before marriage. Chris Pratt regularly thanks Jesus Christ in acceptance speeches and once erected a literal crucifix to celebrate Easter (which he then shared on Instagram). Selena Gomez professed a “revival” of her faith after leaving a Christian-based rehab program in 2016 and Sia performed a version of her hit “Elastic Heart” with lyrics changed to Bible verses at one of West’s Sunday Service.
This newfangled intertwining of fame and religion isn’t a one-sided pursuit either. As a new generation of stars lean into church, some religious groups are co- opting the tactics of the celebrity trade to reach previously unheard of levels of fame for pastors and ministers. Millennial- focused megachurches like Hillsong and Zoe Church boast brand names and promote their celebrity pastors to the point of being known around the globe.
They release music videos, publish podcasts, hold “creative conferences” for artisans and have apps with magazine- style layouts. They count millions of followers on social media, where they post “new merch alerts,” promote tours and share baptism photos. Chad Veach, founder of Zoe Church, once stated: “Instagram built our church.”
Old and new appear to have declared not just a truce, but a strategic union. It’s interesting to note that neither side is exactly espousing traditional teachings and practices. Both West’s services and those of trendy megachurches blend Christianity with new-age spirituality and the empowerment movement. They’re less strict about exactly what you believe; instead choosing to emphasize if you believe. The competition is no longer against one another, but rather, against the rise of nihilism, particularly in young people giving up hope that the world can get better. The trend reflects current issues that seem unsolvable and outside the control of the average person: Climate change, social inequality and the dire financial prospects for the younger generation.
The danger of widespread nihilism isn’t a lack of faith per se, but rather the breakdown of community that results from the abandonment of belief systems. Religion, whether traditional or celebrified, acts as a social glue. In this sense, attending church isn’t just a show of commitment, but — vitally in this day and age — an act of community bonding. It’s why congregations sing together; it promotes unity.
Concerts, particularly large music festivals, are often described as religious experiences. The second Vatican council went so far as to say, “The musical tradition of the universal Church is a treasure of inestimable value, greater even than that of any other art.” It’s a telling statement when you consider the worth of the Vatican’s art collection is deemed too valuable to calculate.
For many, the phrase “spiritual but not religious” is increasingly common. They’ve abandoned faith in traditional religions, authorities and institutions, but haven’t given up the search for some sort of greater meaning. Intertwining two of culture’s biggest drivers of faith is an intriguing, if not inspiring proposition.
At least 50,000 people who attended and participated in West’s Coachella service thought so. Belief may yet be saved. The world is in a transitional period, and religion and fame aren’t exempt. The times they are a- changin’, even for religion and art.