I love cheap. I know that probably makes me a bad person, but I can’t help it. I blame my Scottish Presbyterian mother and my very frugal father who was raised in a Baptist manse. So, a few weeks ago I became very excited to learn that Aldi was opening a branch on Carter Hill. “Now I can shop like a miser on my way home, instead of driving miles out of my way,” I thought.
Even better, I somehow received a coupon for $10 off at the new Aldi, when I spend at least $40. So last week, when the new Aldi grandly opened, I gleefully went shopping, clutching my coupon. I put everything I needed in my cart, but as I stood in the checkout I had a moment of self-doubt. “Do I have 40 bucks’ worth of stuff?” I panicked (just a little). I’d hate myself if I’d wasted a $10 coupon because my cart totaled just $39.95. So I instinctively grabbed a Snickers bar that was displayed at the checkout to make sure I reached $40.
Gloriously, the till rang up $41.12, and all heaven rejoiced.
Later, when I got home I grabbed my Snickers bar, ripped open the wrapper, and was about to sink my teeth into the chocolatey-peanutty piece of perfection, when my eye was caught by the name of the product I was about to stuff in my mouth. “Satisfies” it read – in exactly the same typeface, colors, size, and position where the word "Snickers” should have been. I thought I’d grabbed a Snickers, but I actually bought a Satisfies.
I almost choked on the heavenly bar, stunned by the brilliant marketing of the company. Their product is so well known, and its packaging so universally recognized, that they can call it something completely different on the wrapper, and no one will notice. We’ll just grab it, whatever the wrapper says, knowing it is authentic Snickers. Bravo, Mars- Wrigley Inc! They also succeeded in prompting a priest in Alabama to write about their product in glowing terms in the church newsletter. Genius.
Right now the branding of the American Church could do with an upgrade. We should be known for love, for reconciliation, for the God who took on flesh was born in a stable, died on a cross, and rose to new life. That should be our marketing – and our message. It’s what the wrapper should say, and it should match what’s inside. The tragedy is that we’re often known for other things – pettiness, power-plays, and hypocrisy.
So, I’m left praying this Advent that our branding will be so strong and authentic that people can trust us with their fellowship, their time, and their open hearts, knowing that we will cherish them and treat them with care. May what’s inside the packaging be so wonderful, attractive, and famous, that the words on the wrapper don’t matter.