I have a brother. His name is Todd. Todd is a commercial pilot. Todd was on a layover out east recently when he saw this and claims to have taken the snapshot—the wording in the bottom right makes me wonder if he doctored this up. And being more a spatial-mathematical guy, spelling was never his strength (“gosphel”?). And since when do Reformed churches name their churches after no-account saints of eastern European descent, or use Pentecostal doves? Seems fishy.
Nevertheless, what makes the Gospel of Todd, which seems to be something about patience and wisdom, especially funny to me is the time Todd came home in high school and beat the life out of his tennis racquet over some trouble with a girl. And other stuff.