"The Wittenburg Door" has gathered a strange collection of classified ads for religious products that can take some weird turns.
For the spirit-filled golfer, there’s the praying hands golf tees. For the woman who wants her legs to send the right message to those watching, there’s the gold cross fragrant pantyhose, with a gold cross stitched on the calf of every pair. There’s a salon that wants to hire a spirit-filled hairstylist to "stand in the gap" and a spirit-filled manicurist for "laying on of hands."
The daffy and dumb don’t discriminate against denominations. There are products for all kinds of churches. For those who baptize infants, there’s the baby tuxedo for stylish christening. For those who immerse believers later, there is the "baptistry couch" that lowers you into the water "quietly, beautifully and easily."
Either way, for only $7 you might want to pick up the Jordan River baptismal set, complete with certificate for framing that you’ve used holy water from the Jordan River.
In Missouri, a company advertises Christian book and gift parties by saying, "If you walked into 90 percent of America’s homes you couldn’t tell whether they were Christians are not — but you can change that." Their solution is to sell Christian books and gifts.
This last ad represents the reason why most of these ads are ridiculous. The sign that a home is Christian is not what products they have on their coffee tables, but what proceeds from their mouths as you share a cup of coffee. You can tell the driver in the lane ahead of you is Christian not from what his bumper sticker says but from how he drives. While there is nothing wrong with buying Christian products, the best witness to our faith is not our style, but our lifestyle.
If we have any doubt how Jesus would handle this heavenly hype, all we need to do is ask some moneychangers from the temple in Jerusalem.
(Copyright 2013 by Bob Rogers. Email: firstname.lastname@example.org. Read this column each Friday in the Herald. Visit my blog at www.bobrogers.me.)