The fish had its day

This is what comes next

It started with a tee shirt.

Not this one.

One of those Christian tees you have seen a thousand times. The ones that riff on corporate logos. Knockoff Nike swooshes with Just Pray It underneath. Coca-Cola script rewritten as Jesus. You know the ones. Loud. Cheesy. Performative. The kind of shirt that makes believers cringe and non-believers roll their eyes.

But the bigger problem was not the cheesy tees.

It was the fish.

For 1,700 years the ichthys was a secret. A quiet signal scratched in the dirt of the Roman Empire. A way of saying I know the story without a word. A symbol that kept the faith alive when speaking it out loud could get you killed.

Then the 1970s happened.

Bumper stickers. Car emblems. Lapel pins. Coffee mugs.

After seventeen centuries of sacred silence, the conversation stopped.

Because now everyone knows what the fish means. Believers. Non-believers. Atheists. Late night comedians. Nobody asks about the fish anymore. There is no curiosity. No intrigue. No moment of recognition. It is just another sticker next to the honour roll decal and the Chick-fil-A receipt on the dashboard.

Product image — tee front

Two overlapping circles. One solid. One outline

To the world it is abstract minimalist design. A band logo. A tech brand. Geometric art.

To you?

One is the stone.

One is the entrance to the tomb.

The stone that sealed it. The opening it could not hold shut.

The tomb that should have held death but could not.

The funeral that got hacked by the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Death was hacked

When the first mock-ups went on the table, heads were scratched. Brows were furrowed. Questions were asked. Not from casual Christmas-and-Easter churchgoers. From a pastor who preaches the Word every Sunday. A youth leader who knows his Bible inside out. Church elders who have given their lives to the faith.

Not one of them knew what it meant.

Then the penny dropped.

Every single one of them wanted one.