Finding Our Religion — The gospel according to Hereford

By Ed Hayne, Planning Director and Siobhan Kelly, Account Manager, Ogilvy & Mather

The Church.

“The first great global brand.”

Wise words as ever from Sir John Hegarty. But is this another famous old institution that has lost its way in the UK? A global heavyweight lacking relevance in a country it used to dominate?

At a glance, you would say no.

Despite being an increasingly multicultural nation, 56% of the UK population state that they are “Christian” when asked their religion in the national census. A healthy number that no doubt keeps the global bosses happy.

However, this only tells half the story. Latest figures show that 1.4% of the UK population go to Church regularly. Are these statistics surprising? Perhaps not. But they certainly raise questions that the data alone cannot answer.

We therefore decided To Get Out There and explore what it now means to be considered a “Christian” country. Canterbury and York made the shortlist of prospective locations, but we settled upon Hereford, a cathedral city that attracts more weekly worshippers than anywhere else in the UK.

From casual chats on the streets to attending a Sunday Church service in a converted cinema, we met some fascinating people and learnt valuable lessons along the way.

The silent majority:

First up, we wanted to understand why people ticked the “Christian” box in the national census. For regular worshippers, the answer was obvious, but things got more interesting when we asked those that rarely set foot in a Church.

“I’m not sure what I believe, but I celebrate Christmas.”

“I was baptised when I was younger. I’m a Christian whether I like it or not.”

“It means I’m not a Muslim.”

Should the Church care about these varied reasons, or have they done their job by convincing over half of the UK population to tick the box? To use a football analogy, the Christian faith seem to attract a lot of fair-weather supporters — ‘fans’ that rarely come through the turnstiles, don’t watch the action on TV, but have a team when pushed for their allegiance. This might suggest that they have little in common. In fact, many of the people we spoke with shared traditional Christian values.

“I want my children to be generous, humble and respectful of others.”

“Telling the truth matters. I wish politicians would remember that.”

In a divided country with increasingly binary narratives, this was particularly refreshing to hear.

However, a more candid member of the clergy, outright questioned what these ‘passive observers’ actually bring to the Church. Perhaps naively, he pointed out that they’re not a source of revenue and their primary reasons for identifying as a ‘Christian’ were hardly positive.

The elusive youth market:

The same Vicar was equally outspoken about where the Church has been going wrong. Like so many 21st century brands, an inability to attract the next generation was cited as the biggest issue. This was a view shared by Church goers, box tickers and outright rejecters.

“Why should I be told what to do?”

“I’m not sure what the role of the Christianity is in modern life.”

These attitudes partly explain why Hereford has several Churches where the average age of the congregation is well over 70. However, unlike other parts of the UK, the city has had some success going after the youth market.

Our visit to The Freedom Church gave us amazing insight into the type work that has been undertaken.

Everything from the building, a converted cinema to the VIP welcome we received, made for a surreal Sunday morning. The service felt like a well-rehearsed Ted Talk, had the raucousness of a rowdy gig and the energy of a highly charged political rally. The congregation was vocal and passionate.

“You’re SO right Pastor.”

“Ay-men to that.”

The whole operation was more attune to a Silicon Valley start-up than a 2000-year-old global institution. Pastor Gary aka ‘Pastor G’ took on the role of Steve Jobs, but we also heard from a variety of other well-groomed individuals.

Consistently the focus was on what you can do as a Christian, rather than what you can’t. Extracts from the Bible were simply used as points of reference and the service was live streamed on the internet. The Crucifix ‘logo’ was nowhere to be seen and an array of artisan coffees fuelled the merriment. Their narrative was simple:

“Our vision is to connect anyone, anywhere to a life-changing relationship with Jesus.”

“We’re inclusive of all types of Christianity.”

“We practise a religion that’s for everyday life.”

It was impressively slick and had evidently struck a chord with a more youthful congregation. A chat with a member a few hours after the service summed up the pervading attitude of regular attendees.

“The Freedom Church is like a caring father. It guides me through everyday life without talking down to me.”

With all this positivity, we were keen to explore how this Church was perceived from ‘the outside’.

Tellingly, many hadn’t even heard of it. Those that had were dismissive and even viewed it with some contempt:

“A collection of happy clappy weirdoes.”

“Americanised nonsense.”

“They’re still ramming the religious message down your throat.”

With time a precious commodity, especially over a weekend, people cited the lack of a more mainstream middle ground as the biggest problem facing the Church.

“Why can’t the Church just be normal?”

“They always end up saying something that makes me feel awkward.”

“I’d rather watch Match of the Day with my kids on a Sunday morning.”

“To appeal to everyone we need something more in the middle (something between Freedom Church and more traditional services such as Church of England).”

Familiar franchisee problems:

Given the willingness of Hereford locals to openly discuss religion and their many shared values, perhaps it’s surprising that a more mainstream offering hasn’t surfaced. The city is awash with varied Christian places of worship and there’s a noticeable lack of other religious buildings.

One local was particularly proud to have “kept other religions out,” citing Judaism and Muslims as “the enemy.” An isolated opinion of course, but still alarming to hear.

On a more positive note, communication between some Hereford Churches has grown much stronger in recent years. Members of a Protestant congregation spoke of different Church communities sharing ideas and empowering each other to adapt.

“There’s far more that unites us than divides us”.

However, infighting, even between the same Christian sect, has proved to be a big barrier to reaching out beyond regular attendees. One Catholic worshipper even outright accused The Freedom Church of:

“Bastardising the Christian faith”.

Whilst people understood that constant meddling wasn’t the answer, the complete lack of a consistent message between Churches was cited as a major obstacle to more mainstream appeal. Furthermore, the calibre and training of some of the clergy was also called into a question.

Populating popular culture:

Throughout our visit it became clear that Herefordshire residents weren’t afraid to express an opinion. People’s views varied, but the conversation often centred upon upping the Church’s cultural relevance.

“Yoga and mindfulness are more popular than ever before. Going to Church isn’t that dissimilar. They’re missing a trick.”

“Why does the Royal Family dress so formally when they go to Church? They’re setting the wrong example.”

Above all else, people agreed that all Christian faiths needed to be far more open-minded and willing to re-think their messaging to tie in more closely to modern life.

Navigating the ecclesiastical boardroom:

We left Hereford with more questions than we answered. One weekend in the city was never going to be enough, but even a fleeting visit gave us valuable insight.

In particular, the trip revealed that there’s plenty that can be done to get more people actively involved in the Church.

So, what were the three biggest lessons?

1) You’re only as good as the experience you deliver on the front line — everyone rightly marvels at John Lewis’s creative work, but the experience at the point of sale is equally on point. Most of the people we spoke with in Hereford, including members of the clergy, felt that whilst freedom of expression was a good thing, a clear mission statement and some inspirational guidelines were equally important.

2) If you’re a global brand, fight powerfully for a UK relevant version of the brand narrative — letting the global bosses rule the roost is a huge barrier to attracting new customers.

3) Be clear about how any sub-brand launch complements the Master Brand — the Church has a brand architecture that’s become so complex, newcomers and those looking to re-engage don’t know where to start.

Evidently, the task for the Christian faith in the UK is huge and daunting, but many of the raw materials are in place. In a divided country, we found plenty of evidence to suggest that fundamental Christian values still matter to many people. Furthermore, how many other brands would love to have stunning buildings, big calendar events and array of charismatic employees in their armoury? Having 56% of the UK population on your books is handy too.

Challenge one is to make sense of these varied assets for a modern-day mass audience. Easier said than done. Challenge two is convincing those at the top to make some fundamental changes. That’s the really tricky part.

In fact, maybe it’s a brief for Sir John himself?

Listening to the people of a Hereford wouldn’t be a bad place to start.