There's a church that I often pass by on my runs that usually features an amusing message on its signboard. Last December it had, "Hey, how about you bring the kids to my place for Christmas? --God". And it went through a whole series of "let's show we're down with this social media thing" messages vaguely along the lines of "Jesus will always like you on Facebook" and "Prayer works even when you don't have wifi." A few weeks ago they had, "Regular exposure to the Son will prevent burning," which is the first time I've ever seen a veiled threat of eternal damnation wrapped in a cheesy pun.
Today I was surprised to see that they've gone rather old-school, with "Salvation is received, not achieved." Next week perhaps they will take a position on whether the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and from the Son.
In the Mission cemetery, I was rather moved by an offering someone had left on a grave: two new-looking black patent-leather high-heeled ankle boots, carefully placed at the base of a headstone. I like to think that they were dancing shoes, left by someone who had fond memories of dancing with the deceased, but I don't really know. I kind of wanted to take a picture, but it felt like intruding on something personal.