Marketing beer vs. teaching Marian dogma
By Fr. Jerry Pokorsky ( bio - articles - email ) | Jan 02, 2026
The raging debates we see all around us come down to two questions:
- Does perception shape reality, or
- Does perception help us understand reality?
Let us compare the dogmas of the beer industry with the dogma of Mary, the Mother of God, to help us choose.
In the early 1980s, at the height of Miller Lite's popularity, its slogan—"Less filling! Tastes great!"—was everywhere. It dominated television, radio, and print. Before Philip Morris acquired Miller, Miller High Life had been sold as the "Champagne of Bottled Beer." Philip Morris's strategy was bold. They moved Miller out of the "champagne bucket" and into the "lunch bucket," repositioning it for mass appeal and higher consumption. The company wasn't just selling beer—it was shaping perceptions, defining social cues, and signaling identity as much as flavor.
Philip Morris introduced Miller Lite, one of the first "light" beers. The strategy copied what the company had already done with "light" cigarettes. Smokers, drawn to the promise of lower nicotine, ended up smoking more to satisfy their habit—at a higher price per unit. The same logic applies to beer. Working men could now drink twice as many bottles of Miller Lite(less filling, tastes great) while paying a premium.
Miller Lite quickly became more than a drink; it acquired social status. It was acceptable at dinner parties among professionals in a way that Schlitz or Pabst Blue Ribbon was not, even though those beers were made with comparable recipes, quality control, and similar production costs. Taste preferences aside, product quality did not justify the hierarchy. Still, few would admit that Miller Lite was merely a watered-down beer. Everyone implicitly agreed that it was superior. Perception became illusion. Marketing perceptions extended further. Miller purchased the premium recipe for Meister Brau, a beer similar to Budweiser, and sold it at low prices to undercut competitors. It was a good American beer—but it never belonged at a "respectable" gathering. Beer companies also targeted college towns, selling cheap beer to young consumers to establish lifelong brand loyalty. The strategy worked. Entire generations learned which beers were "good" and which were not, regardless of actual quality. Forget arguments over politics or religion. These beer arguments mattered.
This passionate brand loyalty often resembled tribal allegiance. In the 1980s, competition between Miller and Anheuser-Busch was fierce and personal. It was not enough to say you preferred one beer over another; you had to accept the approved perception. Many modern controversies resemble those fundamentally irrational debates over beer.
The prejudice and perceptions surrounding beer brands are a metaphor for modern politics. We often see the world in absolutes: we are the good guys; they are the bad guys. They were aggressive; we were defensive. These narratives may not be entirely false, but they simplify complex realities into sound-bite perceptions that discourage critical thinking. They may even be delusional. The pattern repeats endlessly. Questioning established assumptions often draws criticism or doubt, usually maligning motives over substance. (You like Pabst Blue Ribbon over Miller Lite? What kind of barbarian are you?)
Just as marketing shapes our perceptions of beer, it can shape how we understand religion. However, while marketing attempts to shape reality to fit perceptions, authentic religious formation shapes our perceptions to understand reality. Religious education relies on concise formulations to communicate the precepts of belief. While these tools are necessary, there is a fundamental difference. Their purpose is not to form perceptions, but to understand reality. Most marketing strategies discourage inquiry. Authentic religious formation, however, requires tough questions and ongoing growth.
It might sound shocking to say that Mary is the Mother of God, Theotokos. From a secular-marketing point of view, it's a terrible optic. Many Protestants instantly assume that Catholics are worshiping Mary as a goddess. That's not true, and the Church does not back down from the dogma. Mary is the mother of Jesus: the Person of Christ, not just His human nature. She gave birth “in the fullness of time” to Jesus Christ, fully God and fully man. Mary is God's creation, not a goddess, yet she cooperates with the Holy Spirit in bringing the whole Person of Jesus into the world. She is the Mother of God because God chose her for that role-a gift, not a title of divinity.
The dogma allows us to expand the horizons of our faith. At every Mass, Holy Mother Church gives birth to Jesus Christ in the Blessed Eucharist. We receive the glorified Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus in Holy Communion. This is not an ambiguous perception, but an accurate assertion of reality. When author and lapsed Catholic Mary McCarthy once observed at a dinner party that the Eucharist is a nice symbol, Flannery O'Connor immediately responded as a realist: "Well, if it's only a symbol, I say to hell with it."
Christianity ultimately resists the marketing logic that places perception before reality. The central message of the faith—the Passion and the Cross—does not appeal to comfort, prestige, or social approval. As St. Paul wrote, "We preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles" (1 Corinthians 1:23). Unlike beer slogans or political dogmas, this message defies prejudice and refuses to be packaged for easy consumption.
Beer loyalty teaches how easily we adopt unquestioned prejudices; faith requires attention beyond superficial signals. Faith demands recognition of truths that continue to unfold and provoke intelligent inquiry, a willingness to follow a path that is often countercultural, and a pursuit of depth over convenience. The marketing of beer shows how persuasion shapes perception. But only faith directs the mind and heart beyond appearances, guiding us to the reality of God’s work and His plan for salvation.
We've heard it said, "Perception is reality." Baloney! The Incarnation of Jesus requires that we perceive the reality of heaven and earth as they are. As Flannery O'Connor once remarked, Catholic dogmas are windows to infinite realities. Perception, purified by faith and reason, helps us understand reality.
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