Jesus in front yard, God at post office

The ads can provide comedy, such as ones that go something like “Lost: Will to live. Last seen in 1987.� Or the ones selling inexplicable items; one that appeared some time ago offered a bullet-proof vest, never used, which is probably a good thing.

The ads can be sad. Lost dogs and cats and love frequent the small print in the back of the newspaper. One recurring type of ad is someone looking to connect with someone from their past, a plea that often carries a subtext of longing and hope and desperation and a lack of awareness that some people may be avoiding you for good reasons.

The saddest of all are the ads that appear with stunning frequency offering wedding dresses or engagement rings for sale. Every three-line ad for a “Wedding dress, never worn� or “Engagement ring, never used� reflects a story of heartbreak and pain and the dismal future prospects of lawyers specializing in divorce.

It’s not often that a classified ad raises larger questions. Typically, someone’s trying to get rid of an old couch and the reasoning rarely rises above the fact that the old couch was replaced because plaid no longer fit the décor.

But last week, a classified ad appeared that raised a bunch of questions — practical and metaphysical and theological, all at once.

It would be the leading nominee for Classified Ad of the Year, if such an award existed.

The first line read: “FOUND: Baby Jesus.�

Someone found Jesus.

Actually, it was a plastic Jesus from a crèche.

I called the number and told the woman who answered why I was calling.

“I saw in the classifieds that you found Jesus,� I said.

The woman was nice and all, but she really didn’t want to talk to me, and she wasn’t crazy about having her find publicized beyond the classifieds. (Sorry. Couldn’t resist.) And I never did find out whether the baby Jesus found his way home.

Of course, the more mundane explanation is that some kids stole Jesus from a crèche and, feeling contrition or fear of being caught or just realizing that they really had no use for the Savior, tossed him in someone’s yard.

And then, imagine finding Jesus in your yard. People find Jesus in a lot of places — church, prison, at the end of a long streak of bad intentions, bad luck and bad behavior — but in your yard?

Yet, there’s the bigger issue — Jesus was lost, and now he’s been found.

There’s a country song in this somewhere.

“I found Jesus,

“In my front yard.

“Didn’t know he was out there,

“All battered and scarred.

“He had gone missing,

“But now he was found.

“Gonna take out an ad,

“If you miss Jesus, com’n around.�

I didn’t say it was a good country song.

While we’re waxing on things theological, it has come to my attention that the United States Postal Service has apparently solved one of the vexing questions for theologians and clergy and philosophers for ages — just where does God reside?

The Postal Service apparently knows where God lives.

Or at least where he picks up his mail.

And it involves Santa Claus.

Backing up, it came to my attention that the Postal Service Web site offers advice to people who wish to send letters to Santa Claus in its Frequently Asked Questions page. It advises people to address the letter to Santa Claus and list the city, state and ZIP Code on the envelope.

The Web site states: “The USPS will see that the letter is received at the proper place. Please ensure to include the return address on the letter itself!�

And then, the Web site says, “Letters to God can be addressed in the same way replacing ‘Santa Claus’ with ‘God’.�

Yikes.

This raises a lot of possibilities.

Either Santa Claus and God live at the same place.

Or, the Postal Service knows where God lives. Or at least where he picks up his mail.

Or, Santa Claus and God are the same.

Whoa!

Well, they are similar in that people do ask them for things — Xbox 360, world peace — that are not quite obtainable.

I called the Postal Service and got an answering machine. It asked for a detailed message, and I left one. A short time later, a woman named Monica called me and said, “Actually, those are decided on a local level.�

Does that mean Santa Claus and/or God reside at the York Post Office on South George Street?

I asked Monica what exactly is the Postal Service saying about Santa Claus and God, and she suggested I talk to someone at the local post office.

A short time later, I got a call from Ray Daiutolo, a spokesman for the Postal Service in central Pennsylvania. He said, “In 20 years, I’ve never seen a letter addressed to God. I’ve seen lots of letters addressed to Santa Claus.�

Santa Claus more popular than God? OK.

So there you have it — the mysteries of the universe solved, sort of, in the classifieds and by the United States Postal Service.

Hard to imagine.

Mike Argento, whose column appears Mondays and Thursdays in Living and Sundays in Viewpoints, can be reached at 771-2046 or at mike@ydr.com.