Decrying shopping is his bag By Devra First, Globe Staff | April 1, 2005 ''Our neighborhoods are being destroyed by transnational chain stores, children! We are drowning in a sea of identical details! Praise the god that is not a product, the god that swims in the part of the sky not yet covered with corporate logos!" Reverend Billy is preaching, via cellphone, as he walks the streets of New York. He is preaching against Starbucks, against Wal-Mart, against Disney. He is preaching because what he has termed the Shopocalypse is upon us. ''We face this urgent apocalypse where we're shopping ourselves to death, whether it's a $4 latte or a B-2 bomber," says the reverend, also known as actor and activist Bill Talen. ''Lift your hand from the product and back away." Reverend Billy leads the Church of Stop Shopping, and he is trying to save us from our consumer culture before it consumes us. Tomorrow and Sunday he brings his message to Boston, appearing with his 30-person Stop Shopping Gospel Choir at the Old South Meeting House. Their performance, ''Who Will Survive the Shopocalypse?," is part revival, part revue. ''It starts as a church service, then the formal structure of the church service breaks down," says Savitri D, theatrical director of the Church of Stop Shopping and Reverend Billy's partner. ''On another level, it's a total Broadway show, with 30 people singing, dance numbers, bits, comedy, and interactivity with the audience." Don't forget the credit-card exorcisms and the laying on of hands. When people enter the meetinghouse, the logos on their shoes and clothing will be taped over. At St. Mark's Church in New York, where the Church of Stop Shopping is in residence, services like this one bring in crowds. But the church also takes its cause into the streets, staging ''retail interventions" at chain stores. Members take over Starbucks, singing and dancing, while Reverend Billy leaps on the counter to preach about the plight of Guatemalan coffee farmers and the destruction of New York's neighborhoods. At Disney stores, he sermonizes: ''Mickey Mouse is the Antichrist, children! Hallelujah!" ''Disney is 100 percent a sweatshop company," he says. ''There's not a union there." If you buy a company's products, he suggests, you are also buying its business practices. Reverend Billy wears a white suit and a priest's collar; his blond hair is styled in an Elvis pompadour. His act can be entertaining, but it's also effective. ''In a very savvy way, he's appropriating his character and the church format in a way that is both ironic and serious at the same time," says theater critic Alisa Solomon, who writes for the Village Voice and teaches at the City University of New York. ''Within the church frame, he can preach, and in a way that absolves him oddly and cleverly of the charge that he's preaching to the converted. Whenever anybody tries to do political playwriting, that's the first thing anyone says, but nobody ever says that to anybody in an actual church." ''I think it's high time that lefties appropriate righty icons," Reverend Billy says. ''They've been doing it to us." Talen, 54, grew up in the Midwest, raised by right-wing Christians, but he calls himself postreligious. Among his major influences he lists Rosa Parks, Lenny Bruce, Walt Whitman, and Jane Jacobs, author of ''The Death and Life of Great American Cities." He was also inspired by the Beats, he says: ''I wanted to know what America was, so I spent a lot of time on the road, falling in love, getting fired, not always gainfully employed." He wound up in California and became a performer, despite a disastrous early episode involving an interpretive dance of ''Howl" he did for a less-than-appreciative Allen Ginsberg. (''What doesn't kill me makes me stranger," he says.) In the '90s he moved to New York, and there he had an awakening. ''Mickey Mouse was everywhere," he says. ''The Disneyfication of Times Square was being pushed by Giuliani in a militaristic fashion. I saw the people that I liked, the interesting people, the powerless people, people of color, they were just arrested, swept into hospitals, jails. It was cultural cleansing. I was in the mecca of the theater world, and there was nothing on Broadway. Broadway was officially dead. . . . I gravitated to the sidewalk preachers. They were homophobic, apocalyptic, misogynistic creeps, but they commanded this amazing instrument." Encouraged by his mentor, a maverick Episcopal priest named Sidney Lanier (a cousin of Tennessee Williams), Talen adopted that amazing instrument for his own purposes. ''I got a cheap pulpit out of a dumpster and started preaching," he says. And so Reverend Billy was born. Five years ago, Talen won an Obie Award for reviving activism through theater. ''I think what he's doing is really important, both in aesthetic terms and political terms," says Solomon, an Obie judge. ''He's pushing the envelope in both areas. He's very thoughtful about what he's doing, and I think it's having an impact." But is what he's doing theater, politics, or religion? Reverend Billy prefers not to make the distinction. ''It's a complicated model, but it's all of a piece," he says. ''It's not spiritual at one moment, then political at one moment. . . . We're trying to not respond to labels, trying not to be consumers. It's a concoction that resists labels." It's also a concoction that brings him his share of trouble. ''How many times have I been in jail: 30, 40, 50 -- it's hard to say." He's due in court in New York April 18, a result of the Church of Stop Shopping's activities on Buy Nothing Day, on which ''there were doppel-Billies going to Starbucks all over the city simultaneously," he says. On April 19, a CD and DVD of Reverend Billy and the choir will be released. His book ''What Should I Do If Reverend Billy Is in My Store?" (the title comes from a Starbucks memo) will be available for purchase at the Old South Meeting House. Even the reverend of the Church of Stop Shopping has to make a living. Billy and Savitri D also travel and teach at universities; they were recently at Emerson. It's all part of spreading the word. ''I think lefties have a faith," Reverend Billy says. ''I think progressive people have a faith. It's just that the saints in my church -- Dorothy Day, Frederick Douglass -- all spoke at the Old South Meeting House." "Who Will Survive the Shopocalypse?" is at the Old South Meeting House tomorrow and Sunday at 8 p.m. Tickets: $10-$12. 617-482-6439; www.oldsouthmeetinghouse.org