By Pam Hogeweide

Ok, it’s a bit of a story as to how I’ve been comped to every Off The Map conference since 2005 (Comped is Vegas slang for complimentary as in free. Hey, don’t judge me. Vegas is my hometown. Comped is what we do).

I first heard about Off The Map when I was in the grip of a cynical storm of disillusionment. Specifically with franchised faith and retailed Christianity. Church, in all her forms, suddenly seemed liked one great big sales pitch.

But Off The Map, an organization that Kelly Bean introduced me to, seemed different. I subscribed to their Idealab, a monthly zine that had articles full of fresh ideas about how to live the Christian life. They talked about their core value of otherlyness, an intentional effort to pay attention “for the sake of others”.

When registration for OTM’s 2005 Generous Orthodoxy conference was announced I clicked on the navigation tab and immediately searched for the ticket prices. Given all the articles I’d been reading at OTM I fully expected the rates to reflect what they preached.

Well, didn’t turn out that way.

Triple digit prices. Triple. As in $120. And that was for the early birds.

I quickly computed in nanoseconds what this weekend conference could cost me: gas to drive up from Portland ($), lodging for two nights ($$), meals ($$), loss of income from work ($$), and then of course…the ticket itself.

Ugh. There was nothing otherly about OTM’s ticket pricing. I thought they might be different but they suddenly sounded like the same pitchmen in the halls of the church as I had seen elsewhere.

So I unsubscribed. But instead of just quietly hitting the unsubscribe button and slipping out the back door, I decided to write them and tell them why I was unsubscribing.

“I thought Off the Map was different, but with these ticket prices there’s nothing new about you at all. Unsubscribe me.”

I figured that would be the end of it.

Someone named Bob wrote me back. A gracious, kind sympathetic email. “We’re sorry you feel this way, but let us assure you that Off the Map does not make any money off these kinds of events. God bless you.”

Bob’s note had the effect of what the bible calls heaping coals on your neighbor’s cold head. His warm tone disarmed me. So I wrote him back. Soon we were having a dialog with Bob asking me questions about what was going on that I was so fed up with packaged Christianity.

Those emails led to Off the Map offering me a deal: come be our guest, but let us interview you afterwards to get your honest opinion of whether our conference is really different or not.

Go? Not go?

What did I have to lose?

It turned out to be alright. More than alright.

That weekend turned into the beginning of my friendship with the community known as Off The Map. (click HERE to read the follow-up interview I did with Bob and how I went from being leery to becoming friendly)

I liked them and they liked me and they really liked my writing. The woman who unsubscribed from the Idealab became a contributing writer for the Idealab. Yeah, I know. Ironic.

I’ve been to every OTM conference since then.

I have a confession to make: I’ve never paid for a ticket.

I have always thought the prices were too high. Sometimes this has been openly discussed on one of the OTM forums. I wasn’t the only one voicing concern that ticket prices can alienate the average working guy or struggling college sophomore.

As an OTM writer, though, I enjoyed the comps.

The conference info for this year’s gathering came out a couple of months ago. Instead of charging a flat ticket price or an overinflated day rate, OTM broke the script and offered segment pricing. People can pay for as much or as little of this conference as they want.

Really?

I read and reread the ticket price list.

For $75 an attendee gets to learn from more than a dozen seasoned practitioners of the Christian faith, and even have a hearty meal at a luncheon with Phyllis Tickle . Plus this year OTM is hosting what they call The Otherlyness Trade Show, a kind of mini-exhibition of people who are experts at serving others.

Even I couldn’t balk at a deal like this

I know conferences can be expensive. I received an email a few months ago inviting me to a gathering of Christian notables down in Texas. The ticket? Hundreds of dollars. And that was just for starters before airfare, hotel, etc…I wrote the conference organizer telling him he was wasting his time to send his conference promotions my way. “People in the circles I travel in can’t afford to come to this shindig of yours, even if we lived in your city.”

I’m an equal opportunity ticket protestor.

But this time, this year, even though I could get comped again for my good work with OTM, I ponied up.

I bought a ticket. With my own money.

Like Off The Map , I broke the script

And that, my friends, seemed like the most otherly thing I could do.

Pam Hogeweide has been a popular contributing writer for Off The Map ever since her first email protesting our ticket prices. She is a freelance journalist and blogger living in Portland, Oregon. You can spot a ticket-paying Pam at this year’s conference. Just look for the woman with really cool tattoos.

Tags: Michael Frost, Otherlyness, phyllis tickle