Why Must TBN Folks Ruffle Feathers?

One thing you can say for the Trinity Broadcasting Network people, they don’t hide their light under a bushel basket. That’s probably because it’s hard to find a million bushel baskets, which is what it would take to hide all the lights from their lavish Costa Mesa operation.

But that’s another story.

For now, let’s ponder the latest complaint against the televangelist empire rooted next to the 405 Freeway. It comes from some of the residents in the compact neighborhood near the TBN facility. The neighbors have complained that the broadcast giant conducts its business into the late-evening hours and disturbs their domestic tranquillity.

The city Planning Commission, no doubt thrilled to be in the middle of a spat between a church and residents, has put some restrictions on TBN’s activities. You can bet that won’t go over well with TBN, which like other churches has strong legal support for doing just about anything it wants to, short of human sacrifice.

Neighborhood disputes come and go, but here’s what gets me: Why does TBN always seem to be bugging somebody?

This operation ruffles more feathers than Col. Sanders.

A couple of years ago, Paul and Jan Crouch, the angelic faces behind TBN, were sued by a woman who contended they stole her idea for a movie. That suit was settled out of court.

Last year, TBN was in the eye of a hurricane over who would televise Easter sunrise services at the Hollywood Bowl. TBN had the rights but later backed out when threatened with a lawsuit. Ultimately, no one broadcast the services.

Then there was TBN’s refusal to dim its lights during California’s energy crisis in 2001. A tempest in a teapot, perhaps, but another indicator of the organization’s penchant for riling people. Notice that I haven’t even mentioned the network’s insistence on broadcasting faith-healer Benny Hinn’s show.

And now, neighbors throwing stones.

The Planning Commission recently gave TBN two dozen restrictions that, it hopes, will quell the uprising. It also delayed for nine months its consideration of TBN’s request for additional outdoor tapings -- the kind neighbors say get too noisy.

The commission also asked the church to establish a 10 p.m. curfew for churchgoers, to get a better handle on nighttime traffic and to reduce the nocturnal lighting display.

TBN spokesmen say they want to accommodate the neighbors but that the church is acting in accordance with its permits. That’s the bureaucratic approach, but it doesn’t get to the heart of the matter. Which is why TBN, to the virtual exclusion of all other mega-church operations around here, gets on people’s nerves.

Obviously, a percentage of us will just naturally get upset after watching Paul and Jan Crouch in action on TV. They are, to be sure, an acquired taste, what with the hair and the makeup and the theatrics.

But TBN’s problems go beyond that. Even if you could tune them out on the TV dial (and it is possible), you can’t tune out the company headquarters that would look more at home between Caesars Palace and the Bellagio than in a quiet Costa Mesa neighborhood.

Neither as understated as the giant Saddleback Community Church in Lake Forest nor as elegant as the Crystal Cathedral in Garden Grove, TBN shouts for attention.

I have a hard time equating audacity with religiosity. You wonder if the Crouches wouldn’t see the manger as a fixer-upper.

But audacious is the path TBN has chosen. Histrionic, look-at-me, in-your-face. And with a worldwide audience, they probably figure no one can tell them otherwise.

Certainly not a local planning commission.

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. He can be reached at (714) 966-7821 or at The Times’ Orange County edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626.