Bishops: the Folly of the Church.

Excluding liberals, Sodomites, women, and those with a naïve belief that God’s love is not proportionate to a person’s average weekly offertory, there are two kinds of people called to Holy Orders: those who Teach the Bible, and those who aspire to become a Bishop. It’s not hard to pick the latter, even when mere seminarians, since their eyes invariably have a purple gleam when viewed under lights. They’re also thicker than an Eskimo’s duvet.

Now I won’t pretend that there aren’t a few Bishops who break this rule: +Clumber, for example, can smell mischief from miles away, and as far as
I’m concerned that Bishop Bukare fellow standing up to Robert Mugabe has more courage than Daniel going into the lion’s den, but fortunately for ministries like mine Bishops of this calibre are the exception, and not the rule.

Nothing proves this more than the current nonsense in Jerusalem. While it is certainly marvellous that we have this opportunity to show the world just how belligerent God’s people can be when we put our minds to it, and dear little Hostillium must be delighted to be allowed to travel with her husband for a change (even if it is just to boost the numbers and help Fr Progeny look the Bishop he dreams of becoming), only a Bishop could be so silly as to believe the best way to grow one’s business is to close the door and leave all your customers to your competitors for a few weeks?

After all, much as I enjoy preaching against Sodomy (as well as a whole range of other practices which I have seen depicted in magazines), the fact is that even at St. Onuphrius’ there is not one person I know of who has come to faith as a result of anyone travelling overseas to discuss what they imagine other people enjoy doing with their backsides. Such topics may indeed be the meat of GAFCON teaching, but surely the best way to reach outsiders (and, more importantly, their bank accounts) is to first lure them inside with subjects that interest them? Once you’ve got them hooked there’s plenty of time afterwards to then start sharing your favourite obsessions. The solution to a dying church is fresh blood – even if you have to obtain it against a convert’s wishes. Hating people different to oneself is one of the joys of knowing you’re a bible-believing Christian, but it won’t of its own accord keep a minister in the luxury to which he is called.

This friends, is what my GAFCON mission is all about. Bishops and those whose eyes gleam purple can have all the seminars their hearts desire, but I’ll take a large congregation and a successful building program instead, thank you very much.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.