Archive for May 1, 2009

A Vatican cheese basket from the Monks

A Vatican cheese basket from the Monks

Monks.

When you consider the robe-trodden people of humble beginnings, you typically consider open-toed Birkenstocks, little oral hygiene and climbing the charts with that ethereal monotone moaning they do.

These are guys of limited resources and don’t ask for much, so when the economy tanked and donations came to a screeching halt, you knew these boys had to mix in a job application or something outside of their six hours of daily prayer.

But according to this story from USA Today, members of the Teresian Carmalites monastery in Worcester, Mass. have cornered the market to help ressurect their philanthropic pitfalls – wrinkle cream?!

First, it was make some brew from their Trappist order in Belgium. No go. Next, they thought to make windmills and sell power, but an ill wind was blowing and that didn’t work.

That’s when one of what Brother Dennis Wyrzykowski calls “God-incidences” connected them with a medical school professor, whose work included patented research into a compound in the human heart that has been found to also fight wrinkles. With the professor’s blessing, the religious community recently started selling a high-end skin cream online based on the compound.

No more homemade jam, cheese and wine, these fellas have broken into the world of Avon, Mary Kay and Maybelline.

For $65, you too can purchase a bottle of Easeamine (online no less) and wash those crows feet away. And if they sell 32,000 tubes of this celestial cream, they break even. Heavenly, ain’t it?

You know, now that I think about it – and stare at myself in the mirror – who needs the cream. How about some Duran Duran. Hit it boys.

Advertisements

You are our epistle written in our hearts, known and read of all men (2 Corinthians 3:2 NKJV)

No, that's not a 70s headband he's rocking

No, that's not a 70s headband he's rocking

So, we are supposed to be “read of all men.” It’s good because a lifestyle lived in front of people should keep us accountable, transparent and above all, “known” by all men.

Frankly, there is only group of folk known for hanging out in a closet… and Christians should not be it! That said…

Meet Richard Dukes: former car thief, ex-con gone good, jailhouse convert and a man on a mission to prove it.

He was so serious about his new found commitment to Christ that upon release from prison, he didn’t go see his mama, his woman or his homies.

No, Rich here gets nice and mixes in a visit to his neighborhood tattoo parlor to get his Jesus scars on.

That’s right, crucifixion fans.

Rich decides to mimic every scar, down the last thorn prick across his brow, that Jesus experienced en route to Golgotha.

“I’m in the Lord’s gang now,” Dukes says. “These are his colors.”

Represent, brother. I don’t know how you envision finding Missus Dukes at the next church bake sale with all that ink, but at least you have one heavenuva conversation starter.

“So, Richard. Is that a crown of thorns?”

“You like?”

“Well… um… it’s… uh… cute.”

“Yeah?! Maybe if we get to know each other better, I’ll let you check out my back.”

What. Up. Go ahead. Jesus high-five. Oh sorry. Don’t want the ink to run on your hands. Nevermind. Just wave at me.