Church Message: Be Yourself

Does your family ever whine about going to church because it's boring or uncomfortable?

Around the country, churches are getting creative in order to keep their existing parishioners and bring in new members at the same time.

The Triad Cowboy Church may look at first glace like a rodeo, but The Early Show correspondent Melinda Murphy found it is really a religious hoedown of sorts: a mix of fire and brimstone sermons with horse trough baptisms.

Some might say it doesn't look much like a house of worship. Of course with his cowboy boots and cowboy hat, Doug Davis doesn't look much like a preacher either. And that's exactly the point.

"They can come and dress and be who they are. It's really a cowboy church by cowboys for cowboys," Davis says.

Boots with spurs, heads with hats, and kids with horses are all welcome. It is a big difference from traditional church.

"You get to ride horses and you can wear whatever you want," one girl says.

Cowboy Church founder Jeff Smith says: "If Jesus were here today, I truly believe he'd be wearing blue jeans."

Along with 14 others in the south, he says the whole idea is to bring more people into the fold.

"It's not a gimmick. It's just simply a way that works," Smith says. "For the cowboy, they look at that and say 'That's my kind of church.' And if that's what it takes to get them to feel like this is theirs, then we want to do it."

Looks like Smith is onto something. Turns out, people like to worship with people like themselves.

"I call it niche evangelism," Columbia University religion professor Randall Balmer says, adding that more lifestyle churches are popping up across the country.

"It is a reflection of the fact that the culture has become highly diverse, more and more pluralistic," Balmer says. "You have these various groups who are trying to appear to one or another niche within that broader culture."

But does all the hoopla dilute the message?

"I guess it's a bit of a stunt in some ways," Balmer says. "But I suppose if the spiritual, religious, theological content behind that is reasonably in tact, you have to give it a pass."

And the up-shoot is that more people give church a try.

"Hearing the word of god is the main thing, but the horse is what got me here," says one parishioner.

The Triad approaches religion with a twang, but at a punk rock church in New York it's religion with a bang.

Brit Frady with her pink hair says there are many reasons she attends a punk rock church. "I'm an outcast, so I go to this church because I feel at one with them. And most churches, I get ridiculed and mocked. Here, I'm with family."

Austin Williams founded the Punk church three years ago. "I was already into this culture when I became a Christian and so I didn't stop liking punk rock just because I liked Jesus," he says.

Williams wears his religion on his sleeve — kind of. Showing his tattoos, he says, "Here on the wrists, we have the basic crucifixion wound tattoos."

He's covered with religious tattoos. "That's the way everything goes in our subculture," he says. "We get tattoos for things we believe in. And what I believe and what I want to celebrate is Jesus Christ."

Whether it's tattoos and piercing, or tattoos and bikes. Affinity churches all have basically the same message: be yourself.

Jason Lyle, the minister at the Biker church in Jonesboro, Ga., says after conducting a survey of his own flock, he found what made his parishioners comfortable, and made some changes.

And it worked. As he wells up in tears, a biker notes, "You take your rich man, your poor man, your beggar and thief. We're all here."

The number of affinity churches is growing, a reflection of the country's varied cultures and unique religious freedom. Proving there's a place for everyone from the burliest biker to the littlest cowboy.

"The horses bring people in," A 14-year-old cowboy sitting on a horse says, "and then we catch them. HE cleans them."