Do you remember the drive-thru confessionals of the 1960s? Probably not. It never really caught on. Humor writer Jean Shepherd, who was very active in that period, wrote that people tended to confuse the message and confessed to sins such as grinding gears and using the wrong quality of gasoline. Churches, though, haven't given up on trying to persuade motorists to become patrons of the collection plate.

Enter the era of the church marquee. Between these and the Kofendaffer Crosses, it's a wonder that we all don't suddenly see the light on our daily commute. I've seen these signs go from the mildly humorous (“Pastor told me to go outside and change the sign so I did.”) to the risque (“Lying in bed shouting 'Oh God' on Sunday morning is not the same as going to church”). Not kidding—I have photos.

One sign regularly features messages obviously not from scripture but signed “God.” “So you think it's hot here?--God” “Bingo rescheduled; be here Wednesday—God” It's not for me to say whether this pastor received a divine rubber stamp of God's signature. There was a minor accident in front of this church and I was called to make one of the vehicles movable again. I met and spoke with this pastor, and he seemed a pleasant and reasonable fellow. I wish I had gotten to know him better so him better so I could recognize him by sight. I wouldn't want to stand too close to him in a thunderstorm.

One sign simply asked “Can you lick your elbow?” It was interesting to watch the people in oncoming traffic trying to look like the weren't attempting this experiment. Can you see the pastor, late at night, writing a sermon, suddenly getting the inspiration to lick his elbow? Perhaps this is akin to the Shibboleth test to find the chosen. “He licked his elbow—make him king!”

Some church folks have apparently succeeded in becoming “babes as to badness” (1st Corinthians 14, verse 20). In their innocence, they haven't really blasphemed but have nonetheless added color the roadside. The abbreviation for the word “assembly” has four letters—not three, and certainly not THOSE three. I kid you not. This sign made clear reference to a Divine Derriere. What was funnier was that no one who would be responsible for correcting this error seemed to notice for about a week!

A sign born of a similar situation was mentioned on National Public Radio's Car Talk. It evidently was related to a local disaster for which a monetary donation was appropriate. Not wanting to miss an opportunity to garner praise for its generosity, the church loudly proclaimed via its marquee: “We have upped our donation . . .” and below that, “ . . . so up yours.”

My old orchard boss, an MIT graduate, would sometimes entrust the making of signs announcing fruit for sale to some marginally literate farm workers. The result was that the signs were sometimes misspelled. It's sad, I know, but I wanted to call attention to his usual reaction. He would look down, shake his head, and say “A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.” I can't help but have the same reaction to some of the church marquees that I see along the roadside. Whenever I make fun of something, I always try to ask myself: “Could I do better?” How would I word a church marquee if I were a pastor trying to lure people into my church? Of course, the obvious “Free beer” comes to mind, which I instantly dismiss as absurd. But why? Wasn't Jesus's first miracle the turning of water into wine at the wedding feast in Cana? Maybe my first miracle as a pastor should be a beer run.

This might be cost prohibitive but then again, drunks are the best tippers. But I'm not being fair. A church's mission, as stated, is to help us to be nice and to usher us into the afterlife, not to make money. That being said, I might try a sign that reads “no collection,” but “credit cards accepted” may be as close as we ever get to that. The sign could read “Scales open.” At least I would get a lot of big rigs turning around in the parking lot—maybe one or two would stop. Upon finding there were no scales, though, some of the drivers may decide that I would look good as a speed bump.

As you can see, these pastors are under tremendous pressure and hemmed in by numerous restrictions. Maybe I couldn't do better.

In fact, I quite nearly joined the makers of accidentally obscene signs. I had a part time supplemental job of brush hogging a steep horse pasture. One large hillside faced the property owner's picture window. I had been having a problem getting him to leave ample diesel fuel for the tractor. I frequently had to pick some up and, though I was always reimbursed, the trip took me out of my way. One evening, as the tractor was running low on fuel, I came up with an idea as to how I would remind him to pick up some more diesel. Into this hillside I mowed the word “FUEL” in forty foot high letters. It was a tense moment as the needle went below E when I had finished the first two letters and had completed the top, bottom, and side of the third. Fortunately, there turned out to be enough fuel to complete that crucial short middle line and the letter L.

A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.

© 2002 tedkalvitis@yahoo.com