How nuns got squeezed out of the communion wafer business
Altar bread was once made by hundreds of communities of nuns across the US. Now, a for-profit company controls nearly the entire market. (The Hustle 10/14/22)
Monsignor Abrams adjusts his reading glasses, squinting at the rows of black numbers cascading down the page. He licks his thumb, turns the page, and finds the final punch line.
“Quarterly Summary: +12.46b”.
This elicits a grandfatherly smile and a few not-very-grandfatherly thoughts of some ways he might celebrate on his private yacht with a few professional ladies from the agency in Mallorca.
While Monsignor in title, Abrams was functionally the CEO of Faith, Inc., the largest supplier of religious facilitation materials in the world. From communion wafers to choir robes, they’d expanded to support anything that brought the faithful closer to the Lord, at a price. And while there had been a few missteps (frozen loaves and fish microwave meals had nearly killed their food division), they’d managed to so saturate the market that they’d become almost imperceptibly tied to the church itself. The average Joe could barely discover that they existed, but all the while, a steady trickle sent dollars and cents from the offering plate to Faith’s bottom line.
A knock at the door announces his 2 o’clock and elicits a grumble of, “Come in.”
Victor Knobs steps inside, announced by the squeak of too-new shoes and a wave of boldly offensive musky cologne. The Monsignor abhors Victor Knobs, but as Chief Evangelist, the overly ostentatious huckster was responsible for nearly all of the profit growth in the last three years. The man might be slicker than spit on a patent leather show, but he had an unparalleled eye for new markets.
“Monsignor! Always a pleasure.” Victor moves quickly around the Monsignor’s desk and leans in. He insisted on literally kissing the CEO’s ring on every possible occasion, which Abrams always suspected belied a deeper psychological issue.
Genuflection dispensed with, Victor takes his seat and opens his attaché, proudly handing over a bound stack of papers with a glossy front.
“What did you bring me, Victor? Profits were only up 15% last quarter. We can’t miss our growth targets again.”
“Don’t I know it, your eminence, but I’ve found the solution to all of our problems. This is it, the coup de grace. The piece de resistance.”
Abrams looks down at the cover. “Salvation? What is this? Some musical group again. We’ve been down that road before, and we can’t afford another scandal when the groupie stories come out.”
“No, no. You’re thinking too small. I’m talking about actual Salvation. Getting past St. Peter. Stairway to heaven. All of it. Look inside.”
Victor continues as Abrams begins to page through the report. “We’ve been working on it for years, but we finally had a breakthrough. This new pope is playing ball, and our protestant friends in the States have basically been on board from the jump. Starting this Easter, Faith will become the solely authorized licensee of Salvation for 1.5 billion Christians worldwide. For the nominal fee of $25.99 a month, adherents will receive a non-revocable guarantee of heaven in the afterlife!”
The Monsignor pages slowly through the packet, taking it all in. The marketing mock-ups for Salvation apparel for the saved to broadcast their status. The reverse funnel home church starter program. The Salvation planned communities where mobs of dues-paying members could gather on squash courts and around grills in the park to talk about their good fortune in the great hereafter. It was almost overwhelming.
Abrams closes the report and looks up into the too-wild eyes of Victor Knobs.
“This is…”, a pause as he searches for the words, “…amazing!”
The Monsignor is around the desk, pumping Victor’s hands in a celebratory handshake. “We’re going to make a fortune! And talk about sustainability. If this goes through, Victor, I hope you’ve got an island somewhere picked out, because I’m buying it for you.”
“I knew you’d love it!” Victor beams, “And that’s only part of the news. I’ve got a call later today with Dev from the East Division. He’s been talking to a start-up calling themselves Samsara. They’re small, but with the right funding, I think we’re talking about an entirely new market.”
“Interfaith, yes! That’s been a tough nut to crack, but with this Salvation idea…”
“Exactly what I was thinking.” Victor finally drops the handshake reaching for his bag. “I’ll let you go. I just wanted to make sure you had the latest. I’ll get you a memo on the Samsara situation as soon as I’ve talked to Dev.”
The Monsignor watches Victor turn towards the door and reach for the knob. On the back of such great news, he’s already mentally back to deciding whether blonde or redhead will look better on his yacht.
“Oh, and Monsignor?”
“Yes?” Abrams blinks back into the moment.
“Peace be with you.”
The grandfatherly smile returns, “And also with you.”