c. 2003 Religion News Service
(UNDATED) In the current holiday season, Arkansas families will reach for Monk Sauce to fire up their meals. Los Angeles Catholics will make Christmas toasts with Cardinal Roger Mahony’s special Chardonnay.
And political junkies in Washington, D.C., will gather around “Episcopopoly,” hoping not to land in “Fundraising” _ which any Episcopalian knows is much worse than jail.
Religious gifts are sold at houses of worship and religious bookstores across the country, but whimsical, kitschy gifts are particularly popular come Christmas, said Andy Butcher, an editor at Christian Retailing magazine.
In the past few years, religious gift shops and bookstores have veered from Bibles and blessings and taken on a more holistic retail approach, Butcher said.
Scented candles, themed board games and foodstuffs with catchy names are crowding shelves that once stuck to more conventional _ and perhaps less-amusing _ religious products.
The Subiaco monks at an Arkansas Benedictine monastery have reeled in $4,000 since they started selling habanera pepper hot sauce _ aptly named “Monk Sauce” _ earlier this year. Sales skyrocketed after their sauce made an appearance at a local fair in mid-October, said Father Richard Walz, who brought back the recipe after spending eight years in a Belize monastery.
The monks’ sizzling secret? Locally grown peppers that both invoke the fires of hell and bring tears to the eyes of unsuspecting victims.
“Some people think `Monk Sauce’ is a cute name, because monk sounds so calm and reclusive, and this stuff is firey,” Walz said. “They said, `You ought to call it a taste of hell.”’
Casual visitors to the nation’s capital and diehard Anglicans alike can stop at the National Cathedral’s bookstore to glance at its newest featured item _ a Monopoly takeoff that has players building Episcopal churches and seminaries instead of houses and hotels.
“Chance” cards display pitfalls that could only be a Monopoly fan’s worst nightmare: “Organist joins heavy metal rock band; go back three spaces,” says one. “Water balloon incident at the parish picnic; pay hospital fees of five offerings,” says another.
But Episcopopoly will set Santa back considerably more than the secular version of the same game. The original’s $9.99 price tag on Amazon.com pales in comparison to the $40 asking price of the version being sold by the cathedral (http://www.cathedral.org/cathedral/shop).
Butcher said sales for Christian kitsch items are on the rise, but that “they simply mirror what you’d see in a mainstream gift store.”
Religious gift shops, bookstores and online stores are increasingly competing with secular stores, which are now stocking religious items that have appeared in pop culture, he said. The popular “Left Behind” book series about the apocalypse sold well outside of Christian bookstores, Butcher said, which forced Christian stores to compensate by diversifying their merchandise.
The National Cathedral sells books on raising Bonsai trees, $400.00 glass vases and 2-foot-long, glittery, neon pencils _ for the kids.
At the Episcopal Church’s headquarters in New York City, lost tourists can pick up subway maps. Last-minute souvenir shoppers can buy magnets imprinted with inspirational sayings, but the wisdom imparted comes from Shakespeare, not Jesus.
“This is actually something of a debate within certain parts of the industry,” Butcher said. “How far can one go and still hold to your core mission?”
Butcher also said “soft gifts” _ scented candles, home deco items _ are also selling well in religious gift shops. These gifts serve those who come looking specifically for religious items, but who also have a few vanilla-scented candles on their gift list. At the National Cathedral, the shelf space devoted to pastel, gauze-wrapped candles rivals that of nativity scenes.
And some religious retailers say it’s perfectly jolly to sell bath-and-body items next to religious ones, especially as secular stores snap up business.
“Some just say, `If we’re losing some of our sales (to secular stores like Wal-Mart), why not sell a nice (vanilla-scented) candle to someone who’s in here buying a religious thing,”’ he said.
For those looking for an elegant gift to bring to a Christmas cocktail party _ or who just find eggnog tacky _ the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels in Los Angeles has wine selections that would even please the crowd at the Last Supper.
Cardinal Roger Mahony handpicked the flavors for the ’98 Cabernet Sauvignon, and the 2000 Chardonnay, Cabernet and White Zinfandel selections, which range in price from $6.99 to $25.99.
Since the cathedral opened in 2002, the cardinal’s private label wines have been among the shop’s most popular sellers, said gift shop employee Cathy Little.
“People really like it; they keep coming back for more,” Little said.
Online shoppers can find so-called sacred items at rock-bottom prices.
At Trinity Broadcasting Network’s online store (http://www.parable.com/tbn), bargain hunters can buy Holy Land anointing oil for just $4.99. Virgin olive oil, myrrh and frankincense “create a special aromatic fragrance unique to the land of the Bible,” the site says.
Fans of the Christian broadcasting network can also buy TBN totes and glow-in-the-dark mugs.
Many of the gift-giving challenged might want to opt for the classic safety gift: a miniature collectible book. At the National Cathedral store, lying haphazardly on a shelf next to a $50 stone squirrel statue and religious-themed garden stakes is Elaine St. James’ tiny treasure, titled “Simplify Your Christmas: 100 Ways to Reduce Stress and Recapture the Joy of the Holidays.”
Her advice? Buy fewer gifts.
DEA END GABRIEL
