Some of the signs in front of The Church of the Ascension and Saint Agnes. (Photos by Rachel Kurzius)

The Church of the Ascension and Saint Agnes has been around since before the Civil War, but its signs often have a decidedly modern twist.

“Adam and Eve: The First Not To Read The Apple Terms And Conditions,” read one side of the church sign in front of the prominent house of worship by Thomas Circle recently.

Another: “We Use Duct Tape To Fix Everything. God Used Three Nails.”

Right now, it says “Need A Lifeguard? Ours Walks On Water,” on one side of the sign, and “Wonderbread Served Here” on the other.

The signs come courtesy of Father Dominique Peridans, who has been with the Episcopal Church for about two years, and have become something of a hallmark on Massachusetts Ave.

“I really view it as a quiet, playful, thoughtful conversation with the neighborhood and I’m happy with that,” he says.

He imagines people walking by the church and wondering, “‘Are these just stuffy people who are clinging to yesteryear or what?’ Ultimately my hope is to communicate that God is a god of joy, so let’s have some fun.”

Church signs in the U.S. have a storied history, bringing whimsy and, occasionally, embarrassment to their congregations.

Peridans writes many of the pithy statements himself, but often members of the parish will send him some. “If I’m not in a creative place, sometimes I’ll research,” he adds.

After growing up in Montgomery County, Peridans, 54, began his journey into the priesthood at a monastery in France. He was initially ordained as a Roman Catholic priest, and about a decade ago, started thinking about the Episcopal Church. He officially became an Episcopal priest in 2013.

He says he made the switch because he “wanted to be in church setting that creates a little more sense for the complexity of people’s lives.” The Episcopal Church in the U.S. allows remarriage and blesses the relationships of same-sex couples, for instance, while the Catholic Church doesn’t. “Let’s err on the side of lavish mercy and cut people a break.”

He says the parish is growing slowly, and currently has about 80-90 members at Sunday services. About half are neighborhood-based, and the other are commuters seeking out the specific kind of services that the Church of the Ascension and Saint Agnes offers.

“We have a worship style that’s really rich in symbolism—some might call it ancient,” says Peridans. “We use candles, incense, really colorful embroidered garments, Renaissance music. It’s designed to waken a sense of reverence and awe.”

He wants the signs to round out that worship style, and he breaks them down into two major categories: thoughtfulness and playfulness. “The signs reflect the life that we try to live together here as a church. Even though there’s a particular [worship] style, there’s thoughtfulness here and there’s playfulness here.”

Peridans says that the signs have made people more inclined to come inside. “Churches can be a bit daunting, maybe, for people. The messages have made that easier.”

After we hung up our phone call in May, he planned to go outside and switch up the church signs. One side will read, “Have You Told Them Lately That You Love Them?”, which he’d categorize as thoughtful.

The other side? “Try These Four Letter Words: Hope, Love, Gift, Amen.”

So is that one thoughtful or playful? Peridans pauses for a second before answering, “They’re not that far apart sometimes.”