“You need to tell the truth to an audience or they’ll throw a brick through the TV.” Bryan Cranston

At the “City of Truth” church in Kansas City, a preacher called AD3 is walking back and forth between a trash can — filled with crushed Doritos and apple sauce — and a makeshift restaurant called “The Sextaurant.”

It’s an expectant crowd, since “sex” and “restaurant” don’t get combined very often, and most of the congregation haven’t eaten (or had sex) yet.

“Are you gonna do it God’s way” AD3 asks, “and, yeah, you’ll have to wait a bit for your food, but you know it’ll come out perfect?” Then he walks over to the trash can and sticks some slop in his mouth. “Or are you going to be impatient and settle for a meal unworthy of the temple God created?”

So he’s ignoring the old tyrannical God in favor of a “a cool God who loves us” — as long as we keep our heads out of trash cans.

For the next fifty minutes, AD3 and his wife, LadyJ, talk about sex — not typically a churchy thing to do, but there’s a full crowd — many of them millennials.

“You can’t speak in caveman terms and expect to get new people,” AD3 explains. So he’s ignoring the old tyrannical God in favor of a “a cool God who loves us” — as long as we keep our heads out of trash cans.

It’s obviously striking the right note, since his church is full and nobody’s going for the corn chips and apple sauce. That’s an accomplishment in itself. Millennials haven’t exactly been big churchgoers — or big believers. They’re children of the Internet, dealing with countless memes, emojis and tweets, including President Trump’s, which tend to weird out even the Russians.

It’s a fight for audience, in other words, and young pastors like AD3 are seeing the ecclesiastical writing on the wall. They’re changing the church itself, introducing new ideas like later hours, hip music and sex pep rallies.

Being creative is spreading across the religious frontier. From Baptist to Lutheran to evangelical, the word of God is going funky and, at times, even humorous.

For some reason, they think they can speak for us because, God knows, we couldn’t possibly know what to love unless we’re told.

At a Presbyterian Church not far from me, a sign went up last week” “We’re Not DQ, But We Have Great Sundays.” That was clever enough to get me thinking about religion again. I generally only do that at Christmas. I’m still a sucker for a clever headline, though. The only people who aren’t seem to be motley sectarians and advertisers — especially advertisers.

Things have gone topsy turvy in the audience world. Churches have signs like, “Church parking only, violators will be baptized,” while advertisers say, “I’m loving it.” For some reason, they think they can speak for us because, hell, we couldn’t possibly know what to love unless we’re told.

As one analyst explained, “Advertisers are following a type of Trumpism.”

“Trumpism” isn’t even a word but, if it was, it would mean people who don’t like to think. We’re too busy with our smartphones, our beer and trying to open a Pringles container. What better time to throw down some “I’m Loving It” before we sober up and shoot someone?

When consumers prefer water to your product, you’ve got a problem.

Even big marketers like Coca-Cola have accepted Trumpist logic as a catechism. Ironically, it works against you in the end. You can’t “stupid down” consumers — or a congregation — without stupiding down yourself. Coca-Cola proved that at the last Super Bowl.

Coca-Cola was (and is) having trouble with their Diet Coke. Even bottled water is surpassing them. When consumers prefer water to your product, you’ve got a problem.

Coca-Cola has been around a long time. They know how to deal with consumer apathy. I mean, who came along in the early ’70s, a time of protests, Watergate and presidential impeachment, and put 200 people on a hillside singing, “I’d like to buy the world a Coke, and keep it company.”

Well, okay, we liked seeing those 200 people of all different ethnicities, especially when they’re smiling away like a scientology convention. As Jeff Chang explained in his book: “Who We Be: The Colorization of America,” “Buying a Coke was like buying the world shelter and peace.”

What happens when a commercial defies logic more than a Pringles can?

As a result of those commercials, Coke sales went up, people smiled and Tricky Dicky got impeached. That’s what happens when you treat people like, well, people. What happens, though, when you don’t? What happens when a commercial defies logic more than a Pringles can?

Let’s look again at the last Super Bowl. We witnessed a Diet Coke commercial so blatantly Trumpist, it would have embarrassed even him.

It starts out with actress, Gillian Jacobs, grabbing a Diet Coke out of a cooler, taking a swig and telling it like it is: “Look, here’s the thing about Diet Coke. It’s delicious. It makes me feel good. Life is short…” The rest is immaterial. “Life is short” says it all.

According to Coke’s reasoning, we’re already doing everything to shorten our life spans. How’s drinking a Diet Coke any worse? It’s like President Trump saying, “Look, you’re eating, drinking and smoking your brains out. What’s a gun gonna do that you aren’t doing to yourselves already?”

Danielle Henry, group director of integrated marketing for Coca-Cola North America tried to give it a less ominous spin. “We’ve stripped away the glossy marketing,” she explained. “We’re just telling people how good Diet Coke really is.”

Diet Coke’s sales won’t go anywhere. Ignoring the obvious trend towards healthier eating — and drinking — is a mindless exercise in itself.

Trump said something similar to his budget committee when they stripped Medicaid from some 20 million seniors. “If it feels good, do it.”

Telling people to “go with the flow,” even if it’s a mindless exercise, seems to be every advertiser’s dream—and, no doubt, their failure. Diet Coke sales won’t go anywhere because it ignores the obvious. People are moving towards healthier eating and drinking. Saying to them, “Do what feels good” is like telling reformed smokers to “lighten up and light up.”

Churches, on the other hand, are brainiacs by comparison. When a church sign says, “Church parking only. Violators will be baptized,” you’re obviously dealing with better minds than the marketing department at Coca-Cola.

These days, everyone’s fight for audience. In that fight, some of us recognize the marketplace, some of us don’t. Marketers obviously don’t or we wouldn’t have a Diet Coke commercial concluding with “Because I Can,” instead of “Because I Shouldn’t.”

Maybe they need to go to church. There’s a lot of creativity going on there.

Some of it could rub off.

Robert Cormack is a novelist, children’s book author and blogger. His first novel “You Can Lead a Horse to Water (But You Can’t Make It Scuba Dive)” is available online and at most major bookstores. Check out Yucca Publishing or Skyhorse Press for more details.