For the lips of a strange woman…

In a clear oversight on God’s part, the Bible doesn’t directly prohibit American Christians from supporting anyone other than the Republicans. What’s more it’s a tragic indication of the liberal depths to which the Episcopalian Church has plummeted that some clergy are not only daring to question the marvellous way President Bush has managed the economy during these past eight years (who’d have ever dreamed parents would once again be so eager to sell their children into service as chimney sweeps?), but there has not been so much as a single outcry that some clergy are evening openly expressing their intention to vote Democrat in the forthcoming election!!!

No friends, the hour is darker than people realise, and yet even I must admit that over the past weeks a tiny speck of uncertainty about John McCain’s ability to fill President Bush’s shoes has been gnawing at my spirit. It’s not a pleasant thought, but some facts need to be faced head-on: Senator McCain has only voted in support of President George W. Bush on 90% of occasions. This means that a vote for McCain is likely to result in an administration that fails to duplicate what Americans have endured for the past eight years by as much as ten percent! And at a time like this can America afford to deviate that far from a strategy which has left her knee-deep in war, economic strife, and personal hardship?

Yet like the Psalmist, I prophetically cried “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.” (Psalm 121:1), and the Lord heard my plea. Although in this instance the help has come from Alaska, which is a good deal further north of the hills than either the Psalmist or I had in mind. Still, beggars can’t be choosers, and Sarah Palin is exactly what America needs to stay headed in the current direction for another four years. Anyone who enjoys shooting polar bears and wolves is just what McCain needs to stay on track in those troublesome one-in-ten occasions.

To settle any doubts which may have arisen in red-blooded Bible-believing Anglican hearts I’ve been busy photoshopping given by God a number of images of the sweet Vice-President-to-be. There’s no doubt these will have even the Sodomites yearning with desire for what they’re missing, and I’m proud to present the first below. Now would any ladies reading this like to help me by standing behind my monitor and asking “Have you been a naughty moose, Reverend Doctor Troll?”



I'm Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

GAFCON Communiqué: Send in the Clowns

Well, well, well: the GAFCON Primates’ Council have released their “communiqué” (which is how pretentious prelates like to describe their $0.02 worth) and the usual culprits are positively buzzing with excitement. Those readers labouring under some delusion that following Christ involves a commitment to balanced thinking and a desire to hear both sides of the argument should probably read Mark Harris’ insights, while those who’d just like to read the document on its own and fall about the room laughing can find it here.

For everyone else who just wants to know enough details to impress their friends/clergy/parishioners/bishop here are a few key points from the World’s Finest Bible Teacher:

☆ Everyone worried about what’s happened to little Pete Jensen and his relatives can relax. Since he’s not a Primate the big monkeys won’t make him a full member of their club, but since he was clearly the only one of them in Jerusalem discrete enough to not blurt out “All Fags Must Die” when asked his about Christian inclusivity, they knew they couldn’t do without him either.
Their solution is an undefined “Advisory Board”, accompanied by the creation of a “Secretariat” to handle correspondence and the web site. Which just happens to have the same mailing address as the Anglican Diocese of Sydney Australia – Little Pete’s personal fiefdom. So it looks like Martyn Minns won’t be getting caught helping out Big Pete Akinola with his typing again: in future it’ll be done by the Jensen family servants instead.

☆ The statement is signed by six primates, four of whom are in East Africa. A fifth, Big Pete is in whatever part of Africa people put Nigeria into – Basket-case Africa perhaps? The sixth, as you can probably guess, is an Englishman in South America, where I have reason to believe the locals are deserting Roman Catholicism in favour of Latin American Anglicanism on account of Little Greg Venable’s bold stand against homosexuality that the Vatican is positively trembling with concern.
All of which shows how thoroughly the GAFCON leadership represents the Anglican World, providing one excludes the democratically appointed leaders of all English-speaking nation in the Communion, and ignores Europe and Asia. It also recognizes that the majority of true leaders can only come from some of the most unstable countries on the most unstable continent on earth.

☆ Everyone who doesn’t support GAFCON in North America and Canada is unchristian, decadent and depraved. Unless people there start thinking like we do there’s no hope for any of them. That’s why our countries are so superior to theirs. Now will you please give the GAFCON leaders more money so they can come and preach to you again? Or at least just get way from where they’re supposed to be ministering?

☆ A few unkind and unhelpful critics have made mention of the communiqué being released a week later than originally announced. This only goes to show how little these apostate liberals understand of how difficult it is to release something that says absolutely nothing, but which still sounds self important enough to fool those feeble-minded enough to count themselves as supporters. I’ve no doubt that when the time comes to actually doing something tangible the Primates’ Council will run to their schedule like clockwork. Just as soon as they can get around to agreeing on what it is they’ll do. Which will happen very soon now. Maybe not at their next meeting, but perhaps the one after that. Or the one after that; it’ll only take a few more business class flights to places much nicer than their hometowns of Malaria, Kenya, or Machete, Nigeria to decide. But soon. Honest.

☆ Have I mentioned that GAFCON is a “Gospel movement”? The primates don’t define what they mean by that, probably because the different groups supporting them would fight each other to death before coming to any agreement, but it must mean something good and they’re it. Which, they hasten to add, doesn’t mean those who don’t support them aren’t also “Gospel movements”. Just that the GAFCON primates believe the Bible. (Why do I think someone’s copying my signature line?

☆”It is expected that priority will be given to the possible formation of a province in North America for the Common Cause Partnership.. And they say Rowan Williams is indecisive??? I haven’t laughed so hard since Ford pardoned Nixon. Clearly the House of Monkeys can’t decide who’ll get to keep the new U.S. conquests, and are already fighting among themselves over the spoils. Bobby Duncan’s letter announcing his bid seems to have conveniently gone missing, and my guess is that with retirement looming Big Pete himself is eyeing off the new job of North American Grand Poobah (Anglican Diocese of Homophobia, Misogyny and Hatred). And we all know how popular that idea is going to be with those currently thinking about realigning.

---

So, in conclusion, what does History’s Finest Doctrinal Warrior predict will happen? Plenty. Millions of frequent flyer points will be accrued. Countless blogs will be posted arguing every conceivable angle. David Virtue will say something stupid. Stand Firm will rephrase and repeat it. Kendall Harmon will claim he said it first. Baby Blue will claim to have said it more concisely. Hostilium will talk about her children saying it. Ad Nauseam. The GAFCON tribal differences will grow increasingly pronounced, and those present at the table will gradually reduce in number. Peter Jensen will tire of wasting money. Layman Schofield will get sick of being ignored, and eventually just get sick and shuffle out of the Californian spotlight. People who claimed to hate homosexuality loved Liberace, and those who until recently were able to live without being obsessed by New Hampshire will find a new hobby. One of the African nations in the House of Monkeys will collapse into yet another blood-bath. The really nice couple running a nearby music store/café/hairdressers/dog groomers couldn’t possibly be gay, and if they are who cares since they’re such lovely people? Kids will wonder why their parents used to be so hung up about these things. And St. Onuphrius’ will continue to grow, as will your church if you stop worrying about everyone else’s business instead of your own.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

O Canada!

One of the many things I dearly love about Scripture is the way it makes some issues, such Eucharistic liturgy, or Clerical Vestments, absolutely clear-cut, while leaving us plenty of wriggle-room in the case of others, such as theft.

In fact instead of being just one sin, stealing should really be considered as covering a broad continuum of circumstances, some of which - such as, for example, taking a person’s brand new plasma TV – are unquestionably sinful, while others - like bringing home stationery from the office – should be more appropriately considered as sensible management of one’s personal resources. Especially if your boss is not a Christian.

This is even more applicable if you're leaving one job for another. Instead of the usual few pens and a ream of paper, changing work-places has long been justification enough for taking a dozen printer cartridges and that forgotten lap-top. Calling this sort of self-awarded remuneration “theft” makes as much sense as saying that the parish discretionary account isn’t to be spent on indiscretions: some things are simply given to be taken.

This is why I, like many other Christians on the internet, am so shocked by the actions of the Canadian Diocese of New Westminster, which has commenced steps to reclaim properties taken by clergy who’ve quit their jobs with the Anglican Church of Canada. Granted, taking the Rectory, Church, and all associated parish buildings might have been a bit bolder a swipe than just pinching that scanner which will come in really useful for digitizing those treasured old polaroids, but surely the principle is exactly the same? The fellows were leaving for different pastures and simply grabbed themselves some going away presents in the process. It wasn’t really their fault that these happened to include the odd parish hall, and asking for them back now is just plain bad manners,

After all, it’s not as though Big Pete Akinola would mind if someone took a few buildings with them when leaving one of his parishes, would he? And little Pete Jensen’s generosity towards those wanting to escape from his theological thumbscrews is legendary. Nor can anyone fault the help +Iker and +Duncan would almost certainly offer to anyone feeling entitled to a little real estate when leaving to join the MCC. So how dare those wicked liberal Canadian Bishops act in such an uncharitable way towards a few Bible-believing clergy whom just happen to understand that the eighth commandment is nowhere nearly as binding as commandments one to seven and nine to ten. Which I believe all explicitly prohibit homosexuality. Don’t they?

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Where’s Brewer and Pritchard when you need them?

Dear me the last 24 hours have been tumultuous, and I must apologise for not having posted anything yesterday. As my Facebook friends will know I began yesterday morning by settling down for a day’s bagpipe practice with a book of Graham Kendrick arrangements. unfortunately during my third hour of “Shine Jesus, Shine” somebody called the local law enforcement officers and complained about my “disturbing the peace”.

To be perfectly honest I dislike the bagpipes as much as everyone else, but the property next door to my Manse is currently for sale, and by practicing my this instrument - which I’ve hitherto not had the slightest interest nor experience in playing - whenever the agents are conducting an inspection any potential buyers should be firmly discouraged, thereby enabling me to purchase the house for an absolute bargain. Indeed, so attractive do I find this proposition that it even renders me oblivious to my own playing, much as if I was one of the birds not infrequently falling from the sky in response to my hitting one of the high notes.

Unfortunately the incompetent young officer responded to this malicious call failed to appreciate both my playing and my business acumen, and his disrespect resulted in my being taken into custody and charged with a multitude of trumped-up allegations. Admittedly, I may have struck him about the head once or twice with my chanter, and in forcing him to swallow the tartan bellows used marginally more violence than was called for, but it’s not my fault if the young officer was without any feeling for music.

Naturally upon arriving at the station I demanded to see the senior officer in charge, and informed him I’d be contacting my attorneys, the famous Brewer and Pritchard< in regard to this outrage, but for reasons I still can’t comprehend this caused him to break out in peals of laughter.

Brother Richthofen insists this could only have resulted from the officer previously had clients represented by Brewer and Pritchard, but I refuse to believe there is anything laughable about Mark Brewer’s advocacy skills, and remain convinced they must be just as professional as his capacity to manage bookshops. Consequently I’m convinced his mirth was just a nervous reaction to the realisation that this matter would soon be dealt with by people so important that even the mighty Amazon books are willing to function as their delivery service.

As it turned out, however, there will be no need to engage Brewer and Pritchard, nor any other firm bold enough to act as their associates, since Consuella contacted her relatives once Evangelical Eric breathlessly informed her of the situation. After their arrival at the station, accompanied by a bag full of money and several submachine guns, the officer in charge quickly realised it was all a mistake, and permanently reassigned the young man responsible for my arrest to traffic duty. As well as ordering him to pay for the repairs to my bagpipes on the condition that I never again play Shine Jesus, Shine. It appears that when it comes to Praise Music even corrupt police have standards.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Philip Brewer - Showing Amazon How it's Done

When it comes to Christian “ministries” selling porn, they don’t come finer than J. Mark Brewer and his SSG/Third Space Books “charity. As I’ve said before, if you’re after whackin’ material he’s your man, which is more than can be said for your average insolvent Orthodox Christian bookseller.

Lesser known, however, is that his little brother Philip is actually managing this remarkable venture into the world retailing. Fans of the Brewer and Pritchard style of business expertise will be relieved to learn that Philip is every bit as creative as J. Mark. Just take, for example, a marvellous “All Shops Memo” Philip asked everyone to post on August 16th.

So fine an application of Christian principles to the world of business is this document that I can’t encourage people strongly enough to tell everyone they know to see it for themselves at http://spckssg.wordpress.com/2008/08/24/philip-brewer-says-immediately-post-this/#memo. Send the link to your friends: from the little touches like forbidding chairs so that staff have to spend their entire working day on their feet (point 13) to the inspiring confusion of commercial trade with charitable donations (point 4) - thereby creating a scenario I’ve no doubt the Commissioner for Charities will find as imaginative as his colleagues in the Taxation Office – Philip Brewer proves himself every bit his brother’s equal.

The true brilliance of Philip’s business acumen, however, is displayed in an even greater development. Despite Third Space Books actually being nothing more than an Amazon affiliate page operating as a frame inside an html template, point 5 instructs staff to claim that “we have hired Amazon to ship their order” after walking them through a nice little trick that leaves the Brewer’s with unfettered access to customer’s credit card details and Amazon password.

Sure, this goes against Amazon’s affiliate terms, but what are minor details like these when we’re talking about the Brewer’s Mission and Charity? No doubt Amazon will be delighted to know of Philip’s creativity, and I have already emailed to let them know of these initiatives on their behalf, since I’m certain they’ll be most eager to reward him appropriately.

Even better, add your voice to my call for Amazon to recognize Philip’s exciting new approach to their customer security protocols. Just go to the Amazon contact page here and tell them all about them. Make sure you include a link to Philip’s memo so the team at Amazon can see exactly what’s being done in their name, and don’t be shy about thanking them for allowing SSG/Third Space to hire them as a delivery service. Given the wonderful degree of respect the Brewer’s have for their customers and staff it’s the least any of us can do to thank them.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Stop it. Now.

Lately I’ve been coming across more and more people threatening to leave the Anglican Communion if xyz doesn’t happen. The particular xyz bugging them varies; some are convinced their parish will grow tenfold if a bishop in the North-eastern U.S. resigns, while others feel victimised by a centuries-old colonial conspiracy preventing them from being proclaimed Archbishop of Canterbury, but their response to the bee in their bonnet is always the same ultimatum – “play my way or I’m going”.

Now everyone here knows I’m no fan of much of that’s currently occurring in our dear old Communion. In fact, if truth be told I don’t really like any of it, except perhaps what we’re doing here at St. Onuphrius’, and even then I’d gladly sell my Curate for scientific research if anyone made a decent offer. But two things stop me from joining the “meet my demands or eat my dust” brigade, and if those reasons are good enough for the World’s Greatest Doctrinal Warrior then I can’t for the life of me see why they don’t also apply to everyone else.

The first reason is straightforward: I took my vows of ordination because God called me to be a Priest in the Anglican Communion, and as confirmation of that He first convinced a Vocational Assessment panel and their Bishop. Like Evangelical Eric you might find that a mysterious act on the Almighty’s part, and to tell the truth even I wonder about it from time to time, but none of this changes the end result one little bit: I’m here because God called me to be here. If I’d have been predisposed to praise bands and fluorescent ties God would doubtless have called me to another denomination, and you’d call me Pastor Troll instead of Father Christian. Or perhaps if I’d have had a predilection for Jesuits and doing creepy things with the deceased the call would have come from across the Tiber. But instead I was called to be here, and here I am.

This is just as true for all other clergy, as well as lay people. If God calls you to be somewhere else, then don’t muck around making threats. Go, and get moving quickly in case the liberals really are wrong and that stuff about Lot’s wife is as literal as I say it is to scare the kids in Sunday School. If, on the other hand, God isn’t telling you to get going, then don’t try and hold everyone else to ransom with meaningless threats. Being faithful means being where you’re supposed to be, and then doing there whatever it is you’re supposed to. Not sitting around doing nothing because you’re so busy complaining about how any day now you’re going to be somewhere else.

The second reason is just as simple: the Communion is a family, not a business, sporting club or lodge. Whether we like it or not, part of belonging to our church involves accepting each other as brothers and sisters, and uncles and aunts. You might think I’m a wicked old parody who’s not even very funny, and I might think you’re living proof of the dictum that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing – but we’re no less called to be part of the same family as you and that terrible uncle who’s always “rearranging himself” and can never remember he already told that same fart joke last Christmas. When it was no less inappropriate. Or the Great-Aunt who discusses her rectal fistula over the chocolate mousse. And little Dwayne, who was “only kidding” when he broke into your car looking for cash.

Alright, so the Communion is a dysfunctional family, and like most such families we sometimes need counselling to stop tearing at each other’s throats. You might hate the way my branch of the family fills the yard with old cars up on bricks, and my branch might find ourselves strangely obsessed with what yours does in the bedroom – but we all need to remember God called us together, and then get on with doing what families like ours are meant to do: bicker, scream, love, laugh, drink, ridicule, eat, shout, screw, barbeque, play, garden, seek God and fight like hell if someone or something harms one of our kinfolk – even if that same relative is a person we’d ordinarily rather see in Gitmo. Real family members don’t boast about how they’ll be walking out any day now. Especially not ones who’ve been called into the family by God.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

The Midwestern Conservative Journal: Hating As Jesus Should Have.

Funnily enough, after yesterday revisiting one of my favourite “Gathered Brethren” links, I’ve now been called to add another. Hosted on the appropriately named “bloghorn” servers, our new addition rejoices in a full name so pretentious that even its “editor” and sole writer only mentions it in very small letters, preferring the streamlined cutting-edge abbreviation of “MCJ”.

Run by little Whatshisname, he and his charming team of commenters have so much to teach those of you who daily visit me here at GAFCON. Whereas your comments are invariably polite, showing each other courtesy and respect, their’s are a powerful witness that Jesus’ “love thy neighbour” stuff might have been appropriate two thousand years ago, but He only had to contend with Bible-believing God-fearing Pharisees. If Jesus had been faced with a Church consumed by Apostate Sodomites and Liberals he’d surely have been just as aggressive as BubbaStoneHeart, BigWhiteBible, and all the other inspiring pseudonyms vying for attention in Whatshisnames’ comment fields. Except Jesus would probably have known how to spell. And not have found guns quite so sexually arousing.

Where these shining brothers (and even sisters) truly excel, however, is in their exegetical understanding. For example: when studying Luke 6:41-42 Liberals always approach Jesus’ words about first removing the plank in one’s own eye before dealing with the speck in another’s as if He was figuratively teaching some sort of principle. Yet, as the folks at MCJ so clearly understand, Jesus was speaking literally. He was explaining the obvious fact (since people back then were stupid because television hadn’t yet been invented) that if you happen to have a plank in your eye (an extremely rare occurrence, you’ll have to agree) it should be removed before performing anything as delicate as removing a speck from somebody else’s eye. If you don’t happen to have a plank in your eye (and who does other than perhaps a few drunken sawmillers who’ve never realised professional wrestling is phoney?) this passage simply doesn’t apply! So when it comes to excluding anyone from the love of God, or intimidating a minority who’ve been persecuted for centuries, Our Lord’s ophthalmic advice is irrelevant. Just dive in and whack ‘em as hard as you want. That’s how they do things at the Midwestern Conservative Journal, and that’s the future of the Anglican Communion if the Gathered Brethren have their way.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

David Virtue is Unashamed of His Ignorance

It’s been a while since I glanced at any of my “Gathered Brethren” links, since to be perfectly honest I find them less and less interested in providing in useful Biblical teaching, and more and more obsessed with whinging about how unjustly they’ve been treated by the Church to which they no longer wish to belong. Not too mention that unlike my own handsome profile most of them are uglier than two monkeys frotting.

Still, the Lord has called me to know all things, and so it falls upon me to check in on the Brethren from time to time and see if they’ve found anything new to grumble about. What I found today on little David Virtue’s site left me speechless: from once having appeared the most opinionated teacher in Christendom, he now appears to have admitted he’s ignorant of the faith’s most basic facts.

Truly, I say this with no exaggeration: the shocking headline I stumbled across could not have been plainer: "WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE A CHRISTIAN?" No apology, no subtlety, just glaring ignorance proclaimed in David’s beloved BOLD CAPITALS.

Truly; I wonder if things get any bleaker than when so-called pillars of the faith don’t know the answer to even this most basic question? In one headline all the years I believed this man to be an Orthodox born-again believer had to be discarded: what kind of an orthodox Christian can’t answer a question like this? The world needs men such as myself who give answers, not who simply know how to ask questions. The least he could have done is make something up, which is what most GAFCON leaders do all the time – but to flaunt one’s ignorance in a headline? And then to still claim one is a Christian conservative leader?

In my book (which in this case is called “Judges” and can be found between Joshua and Ruth) the victorious know what they want and in God’s name they take it. Somebody needs to tell David Virtue that if the Lord wanted us to listen to a wishy-washy conservative in a liberal’s frock He’d have told us to read blogs like Baby Blue. Were it not for men like Bishop Akinola, whose decisive leadership has made Nigeria a spiritual example for Christians throughout the west I fear I alone would be left to provide the answers.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

The Hounds of Heaven Declare my Glory

That fine Canine Bard Grendel has presented me with an award so truly magnificent I have ordered my ministry team to gather and gaze at my sidebar’s new addition in admiration. Let me respond in detail to his moving presentation soliloquy, which was as follows:

Hi, Father Christian.
I am just a dog. I would like to give you a Big Shiny Metal Award. Don't get Mad and Yell at me. I wrote about why over at my Blog, but you can Ignore it if you want, 'cause I notice you have another Award about kicking people in the hindquarters but this isn't that type of award.

Do you Accept Dogs?

My dear inestimable hound, I most certainly do accept dogs, as well as cats and all other non-human members of our Lord’s family, including gerbils – whom urban myth cites as bringing great joy to man.

Indeed, I have never met a dog or cat not closer to the Kingdom of Heaven than any human excepting myself, and consider them as invariably possessing a kind of wisdom far surpassing that of their two-legged carers. To be perfectly honest, the way many creatures look sideways at me suggests they not infrequently see through my professions of unsurpassed ecclesiastic anointing, and leaves me with the sneaking suspicion that there’s no way I could ever persuade any of them to tithe their money/possessions/real estate/sexual partners. Which certainly makes them a lot more intelligent than the good folk of Ichabod Springs, that’s for sure.

Nor do I ever raise my voice in anger and yell at any animal. That, dear Grendel, is one of the primary purposes for which God created Curates, Deacons and Youth Workers. As for kicking hindquarters, that should be considered as the human equivalent of biting; admittedly generally unacceptable, but nonetheless frequently the most satisfying way of making one’s point. Besides, like squeaky toys and the stuffed critters most dogs enjoy tearing to shreds, some people are just made to be treated roughly. It’s easy to pick them though: they’re the ones wearing headgear commonly referred to as an “asshat”, and claiming that they only meddle in other people’s affairs “for their own good”. As opposed to myself, who unabashedly admits to only meddling in other people’s personal matters for my own good.

No, thou Tremendous Terrier, I accept your award with thanks. It is indeed shiny, metallic and big, and the figurine upon it is wearing a charming gown which I believe would look almost as fetching upon my own svelte figure. Ignore it? Never! The Bible may caution against receiving excessively praise from men, but says nothing regarding the praise of dogs, or of women, and I delight to bask in either’s recognition and attention.

After the recent murmuring from some of my previous awardees, I shall however refrain from nominating anyone else just yet… but I will, and I’m expecting all of you other bloggers to be on your best behaviour in anticipation of selection. In the meantime the rules of this honor can be found on the righteous Grendel’s post here, while background information on the award can be found on the creators’ site Arte Y Pico

Thank you again Grendel; Blessed are you among Creatures.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Found by a Fair Face on Facebook.

Unlike forsaken apostate churches and their so-called “ministries”, my internet ministry is proving so successful that I’m planning to extend it with a parish web site, music ministry (naturally performed and sung by myself), and perhaps even some liturgical dancing. As a starter, however, Brother Richthofen recommended I sign up for Facebook, and since doing so yesterday some of you have already met me there. Those of you who have not yet been so blessed need not worry; there’s still time to make friends with the wisest and most righteous Bible-teacher in Christendom. Just click the splendid little Facebook badge in the right side-bar and we’ll be on our way to a degree of virtual intimacy you’d previously only dreamed of.

One of the first by-products of my brave step into social-networking was to encounter none other than the Esoteric Enchantress of the Sultry South herself - Grandmère Mimi. You can read our correspondence for yourself here: as you’ll see I was so bewitched by a heady brew of voodoo and Web 2.0 media that I quite forgot to behave with appropriate distain when reminded that I had indeed forgotten to answer a question she asked some time ago. So with no further ado, and because I am at heart an extremely humble Christian leader of greatness, I shall now belatedly address her dilemma.

It is a distinctly female concern, since it revolves around her feeling torn between two apparently opposing interests. On the one hand our Penitent Pagan Princess wishes to join the Facebook group I want to be banned by Gafcon, too! while at the same time wishing to attend the next GAFCON blunder-fest as an observer for some women’s organization of which she is doubtless a key activist and troublemaker.

Yet in reality there is no problem at all: Global orthodoxy is full of contradictions. Indeed, one might well say these are the foundation stones of our movement. For example: we follow Christ, but we embrace the Pharisees. We believe in love, but we preach hatred. We speak of unity, but spend every waking moment plotting schism.

And the contradictions aren't limited to general principles. Jut look at Big Pete Akinola: he speaks of democracy but rules over his clergy as a tyrant. Ex-Bishop Duncan (my past mistake noted, +Clumber) is doing everything he can to take TEC property, but then accuses the Church of moral bankruptcy. Little Pete Jensen likes to fantasise he’s Cromwell, but then speaks and acts like the Pope. Compared with this lot, dear Grandmère, I’m afraid you don’t even register as a blip on the radar.

What’s more, I’m afraid that given the degree of incompetency shown in Jerusalem the chance of anyone getting the banning thing right next time around is zero. Last time the “not welcome” list was spontaneous: next time they’ll have had years to mess things up. I expect it’ll include Wil E. Coyote and half the cast of Sesame Street, although it’s just as possible someone will decide everyone poses too much of a security risk, and demand sessions are conducted in empty auditoriums.
Besides, any reporter worth their tabloid salt would love to be banned. Just think of the credibility it brings. You’d be remiss if you didn’t try and seek the publicity. Yet wanting to be banned and actually getting banned are two different things, and the reality is few can attain this degree of notoriety – but there’s certainly no harm in trying. That’s why I’m also a member of the group wanting to be banned – and I am the spirit of GAFCON.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

An Award for Kicking You-know-What

Like most GAFCON clergy, I’m interested in buttocks. Or, as young people say, “asses”. Not a day goes by without my thinking about what I like to believe some people do with them, and how certain I am that God will reward me for not joining in their shameless antics. Although, I hasten to add, my interest is purely theological, and the only physical contact I ever permit myself to have with this part of the human form (to which I’m prepared to admit, at any rate) is that occurring in the process of kicking them.

That’s why I'm so honored to learn I’ve been nominated as a genuine “Kick Ass Blogger” by one of the brightest rising stars in the blogosphere: the fine Leonardo Ricardo, whose blog Eruptions at the Foot of the Volcano is itself the epitome of “Kick Ass”.

Now as is the case with most of these award things, there’s a whole list of rules about nominating others which pose something of a problem for a Bible-teacher like myself. You see, among conservative orthodox commentators it’s not considered acceptable to ever really praise anyone – they’re always “close to the truth but…” or “presenting an interesting perspective which needs to be explored further” Consequently if I were to nominate one of the sidebar’s “Gathered Brethren” for this award it would immediately lower my credibility in their beady little nit-picking eyes. Nor, to be perfectly honest, are any of them deserving of such recognition. It may be appropriate to accompany “ass” with any number of words when speaking of David Virtue, for example, but “kick ass” is probably not an accurate combination in his instance.

So instead I must refrain from awarding those bloggers who most closely seek to emulate me, and will instead award those whose theology is such that, like Nicodemus approaching Our Lord, I am forced to visit in the dark of night:

Musings of an Episcopal Padre

Not the Southern Cross

Doorman-Priest

Bishop Clumber

Noble Wolf

The rules of the game are here. And just because I’ve let my guard slip and shown where I sneak off to when not hunting down sin and false doctrine, don’t think you should ever forget that…

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Bishop Duncan Clicks "Send"

Like any true GAFCON leader I choose to take St. Paul’s comments on the suitability of members of the fairer sex for ministry out of their original context (although I must say that whoever coined that expression “fairer sex” had never gazed upon some of Brother Richthofen’s young friends from Seminary). Consequently I cannot normally condone anything upon that Kaeton woman’s blog. Yet her latest revelation concerning a leaked email from little Bishop Duncan to what appears to be an admiring nephew is simply too great to ignore. As Bible-believing clergy well know, expediency musts always take priority; and even if this information was made public by a woman it’s still a fascinating insight into what might be euphemistically termed “the mind” of dear Bobbie Pittsburgh.

Those Christians who’ve been paying attention should recall that less than a month ago the Rt. Rev. Duncan was putting himself forward as the new Lord of the Rings, a play which I said at the time would have Big Pete Akinola and his acolytes sharpening their finest machetes to prevent it from succeeding. Fortunately the indaba didn’t need to get that persuasive, and the email shows +Duncan has shifted from seeing the potential new diocese as a stepping-stone back to legitimacy, and is now calling it a “holding tank” which is merely part of a larger conspiracy to eventually reconcile the faithful Bible-believers with those who dare to read Galatians 3:28 as literally as Big Pete reads Levitucus 18:22

Now I’m not a simple man, but this leaves me puzzled. Since everyone knows GAFCON churches are the only ones in the entire Communion not disintegrating, and that God only loves and blesses those who understand that He’s powerless to act in ways not sanctioned by orthodox Christians, surely it’s more a matter of time till the One True and Faithful diocese conquers all the others? Or does Bishop Duncan not have quite as much faith in conservative truisms as he’d like us to realise?

Still, hats off to His Grace for the innovative argument that since a first vote to separate has already been passed in Pittsburgh, Quincy and Fort Worth, and that the constitutionally required second votes are “just weeks away”, there’s no way to abide by a moratorium on border-crossing. It’s been a long time since any Bishop left me laughing till my sides ached, and there’s no doubt even Greggy Venables had tears in eyes ater hearing that one.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Gay Wind: A Danger One Can Preach On For Hours.

Quite a number of fine Christian readers have left comments or contacted me contacted me regarding “Gay Wind” - a phenomena referred to by Rwandan journalist James Buyinza in an article of his I cited several days ago.

As any leader with qualifications in Biblical Studies and Conservative Theology, and absolutely no training or interest whatsoever in medicine, physiology, psychology or biology will explain, the widespread ignorance concerning Gay Wind - the means by which Homosexuality is contracted - only proves how the west is in such desperate need of GAFCON.

Naturally it’s a danger so rarely acknowledged in our liberal churches that few have ever heard of Gay Wind, and to be perfectly honest even I hadn’t heard of it before, but let’s face it: Buyinza probably didn’t have the faintest idea of what he meant either. Still, it sounded undeniably impressive, and when it comes to further alienating a group of people already on the margins one can never invent enough bogus phenomena with which to burden them.

Feel free to create your own fictitious causes and effects of Gay Wind, and please don’t feel in any way handicapped if you know nothing of theology or human sexuality. Just be creative and authoritarian, and don’t forget to intimidate someone vulnerable in the process. This strategy works wonders for some of the most powerful Bishops in the Communion, so it can’t fail for you.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

A Cry from Little Pete’s Hand-maiden.

A funny little Australian has come right out and said what Bible-believers have all been thinking for some time now: that the Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams and Bishop of Durham Tom “Would you like me to autograph that?” Wright are false teachers.

It’s unclear exactly what role this fellow plays within the Diocese of Sydney. Since his surname is not “Jensen” he can’t be anyone of significance, and is probably just one of the family’s servants, but that a simple domestic has been permitted to speak out like this suggests things have gone badly downhill since the glories of GAFCON and Jerusalem.

Clearly little Pete Jensen has finally realised Great Britain isn’t big enough for two outspoken jet-setting evangelicals, and the failure of British clergy to cast rose petals before his feet wherever he walked on his recent “Look at me – I’m the Genius of GAFCON” tour just prior to Lambeth seems to have left him more than a little miffed. While he expected to be greeted as the Great White Saviour from the South, what he failed to understand is that although Bishop Wright’s fellow Church of England members may often find him a pain in the proverbial, he’s their pain in the proverbial. And they’re not so silly as to think they need to import a second to keep him company.

What’s more, the conservative North American Anglo-Catholics are well aware that if they wanted to be led by a Baptist they’d have appointed Mark Dever as their Bishop years ago. Or maybe Pat Robertson if they felt the need for someone a little more financially creative; but one look at Jack Iker should tell you that’s never going to happen. So with the two largest nations in the degenerate Anglican west off the table, where else can little Pete seek conquests for his empire? Luxembourg maybe? The rest of Australia doesn’t want him anymore than the UK does.

Since the Jensen’s nest of termites has recognized Anglicanism is now ruled by false teachers, I fully expect them to do the honourable thing and leave the Communion, in the process handing back all of their property, assets and investments. Unless like me they can admit that’s no way to remain in the lifestyle to which one’s grown accustomed.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Blown by Gay Wind

Everyone knows that prior to Bishop Robinson’s installation in March 2004 Africa was a peaceful and harmonious land of plenty, where men loved their fellow men in unsoiled platonic relationships. Yet today everything has changed, and speaking in the Ugandan Sunday Monitor Archbishop of the Church Orombi lays it on the line: “Moral degeneration is the cause of religious and leadership conflicts”.

This is, of course, why religious and leadership conflicts are unknown among GAFCON clergy, and never occur within the African Church leadership; since the closely united single organisation representing Orthodoxy is untainted by any stain of moral degeneration. Similarly, as James Buyinza writes concerning homosexuality in an impressively logical piece in the Rwandan New Times: “such behaviours are unheard of, though some isolated cases have been sighted, but we need to stay at the guard before the bad forces of globalization and the so called contemporary Christianity attacks us.”

Indeed, as a Rwandan Mr Buyinza speaks from a unique position of insight when he says: “The reasons why Africa is still facing some of the problems such as poverty, hunger and civil wars is that we Africans have tended to compromise ourselves with the unenthusiastic waves from our masters” and it certainly appears the African bishops share his wisdom. Let us all pray they continue to share his determination to “support my fellow Christians not to be blown by gay wind.”

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Singapore; the Orthodox Role Model

I’ve just finished reading a marvellous piece by little Davey Ould arguing that “orthodox Anglicans should look to Singapore and Lee Kuan Yew”, and let me say that I couldn’t agree more.

Not only does Singapore execute more people per head of population than any other nation on earth, but under an inspired piece of legislation called the Internal Security Act, the Singaporean government and its Vicar Superior Lee Kwan Yew, has the right to indefinitely detain anyone they want without any inconvenient obligation to grant them a trial. Naturally this law is only invoked in the case of ungodly evil-doers, such as human–rights campaigners, members of the Opposition, and anyone who thinks they're entitled to free speech, but just imagine what could be achieved if the Anglican world was led by men who saw the Christ-like importance of giving themselves this sort of power? The entire communion could be beaten with the same iron rod as is currently only enjoyed by clergy in Sydney or Nigeria.

Nor does Singapore permit citizens minds to be poisoned by filth and misinformation. The Worldwide Press Freedom Index ranks Singapore at 141 out of 169, and awards them a fine position right between Sudan and Afghanistan; or for another perspective see the 2008 Freedom House Report, which makes it obvious just how right Davey Ould is when he tells us “Lee's actions are an important encouragement for the orthodox in the Anglican Communion”.

Indeed, when speaking of Lee Kwan Yew (whose own defence against accusations of nepotism appears to have come directly from little Peter Jensen), Ould sums up the value system at the core of GAFCON teaching:

“43 years of prosperity for Singapore is more than enough of a testimony to the rightness of his actions.”

What else can be said, except perhaps that wouldn’t it be wonderful if like Singapore we could also cane those who fail to correctly show their appreciation for our Orthodox prosperity?

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Sympathy for the Brewer.

“If you can’t say something nice about a person don’t say anything at all.” That’s what my dear mother told the magistrate just prior to her final sentencing, and I’ve never forgotten the power of her words, although sadly they fell on liberal atheist ears and she received 25 years to life. Even though I was just a small child at the time, and until then had no comprehension of the way unbelievers have so little respect for important church-leadership principles like extortion, I knew that my mother’s teaching would serve as a faithful guide for the rest of my life.

Which is why I always enjoy discussing J. Mark Brewer. Try as I might it’s impossible for me to find something unpleasant to say about him, since it’s clear that despite the difficulties which have forced Mark to seek bankruptcy for his St Stephen the Great Charitable Trust he’s still managing to ensure charity begins at home.

For all the details of Mark Brewer’s brilliance it’s probably best to read things for yourself here, Certainly, there's not many people who can manage to squeeze $111,092.36 for themselves (in return for “legal services rendered”) out of a business that’s going nowhere, as well as paying a further $75,338.07 to their own charity.

Of course this doesn’t take into account any of the anguish which I’m sure Mark is feeling over the $494,097.55 he claims is still owed to his deserving foundation, nor the outstanding balance of £56,000 owed to Mark’s law firm. Yet despite this terrible injustice Mark hasn’t uttered so much a single cry of pain, but has instead simply asked (out of modest humility, I’m certain) that people don’t discuss his suffering. (Alright, so he didn’t so much “ask” as “demand” – but how can anyone criticize a man who’s given so much, and has yet to receive so much more?). In the light of all this the complaints by those who have yet to receive their wages and benefits should be seen in an entirely new perspective, as I’ve no doubt Mark himself would be the first to say.

No; were she still with us I’ve no doubt my late mother would love and admire Mark Brewer as much as I do, and be appalled at the way people continue to shine a spotlight on his financial affairs. Just because a charity running a chain of Christian book shops in the UK managed in under 12 months to accumulate a debt to a US-based private grant making foundation in excess $800,000 is no reason to accuse the chain’s owner of incompetency. Especially not when the US foundation is registered to that owner’s address, and his own name is listed as an alternative name under which the nonprofit organization does business.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Really Realigning - Delusions Fort Worth Style

Today’s disgruntled Anglican shows just how wonderfully far we’ve progressed. When Newman folded his chasuble and left Canterbury all those years ago he didn’t take with him so much as a few vegetables from the vicarage garden, when the very least he could have done was to first drain the parish discretionary fund.

Yet if only dear John Henry could have had few of Fort Worth’s finest to guide him the village of Littlemore wouldn’t have had a single piece of silverware left untouched by the time the biggest realignment since Saul of Tarsus realised he’d never get to write Scripture by remaining a Pharisee was finished. In a stunning example of what a few years under little Jack Iker can inspire a man to achieve, four of his clergy have approached the local Roman diocese for help with persuading the Vatican that what it really needs is a few more churches in Texas.

That’s right - churches. Not just clergy, but the whole package, since Iker’s boys have decided that if they’re going to go to all the trouble of finding a new province, why restrict their options to Anglicanism? Especially when the only places offering to accept them are hardly in parts of the world familiar with good old Fort Worth Episcopalian values: what on earth will happen (as it will) when somebody’s Primate decides that their unemployed brother-in-law in Lagos deserves a green card – and just happens to be the perfect appointment for that plum parish? Rome might not be famous for its sensitivity, but that’s one mistake they know not to make.

In a wonderful understatement, Iker’s brains trust concede: “it will take time to bring the laity on board with this proposal." Not as long as it’ll take to convince the courts that Episcopalian property can swim the Tiber as easily as a few deluded clergy. Nor as long as it’ll take Rome to decide they really need to dive into this particular basket of rattle-snakes. Still, if they can get away with this one I fully intend to realign with a limited company that just so happens to be entirely owned by myself, transferring all parish property into my name as part of the deal.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

By their musical fruits shall ye know them...

As this is a teaching blog, I do not normally bother with such distractions as pictures of music. There'll be plenty of time for that sort of thing in Hell for those who've set their hearts on going there.

This sensitive piece is so powerful, however, that there is no alternative but to break my usual rule. It's called "The Anglican Blog Song" and it's by a young man whom for obvious reasons prefers to be known by a pseudonym: "anglicanbeachguy". Musically he's the epitome of GAFCON theology, and lyrically every bit as inspired as those bloggers in whose honor he has crafted and dedicated this timeless tribute.

Just be careful to not play it more than once. Not only might nearby dogs start howling, but I'm uncertain if it's legal to play the harmonica that way, and it'd be terrible for our troubadour to experience any trouble from the relevant authorities.

I'm Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Talking about God's work...

“I hear they're just busy doing God's work. They don't talk about sex every day.”

Of all the alarming things I’ve heard said about the Anglicans of New Hampshire, this one has probably made me most distressed. Uttered by Bishop Adams of Central New York in an interview with syracuse.com, it epitomizes the appalling depths to with the church has sunk, and the pitiful lack of biblical awareness among those professing to be our leaders.

Call me old fashioned, but how anyone can claim to pastor the flock without displaying a prurient interest in their sex life is simply beyond me. Just look at my “gathered brethren” links in the sidebar to the left – do any of them ever go a day without talking about sex? More’s the point, how can someone possibly be “busy doing God’s work” if they’re not spending at least half their waking hours obsessively discussing what others do with their genitalia. And what on earth is there to talk about instead? Does Bishop Adams honestly expect little Kendall Harmon could churn it out day in, day out, without talking about sex? Doesn’t he realise that without at least one daily stab at someone's sexuality David Virtue’s place would nothing more than a few Bible verses and a whole lot of grumbling?

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Bishop can you spare a dime?

Well, well, well. The Archbishop of Canterbury has found his party went a bit over budget, and his guests have left him £1 million short of the catering bill.

Now I told Rowan to check everyone’s mini-bar before they skipped town, and if it had been one of my staff who allowed the lads to put their “special” room-service massages on the tab they’d be finding their organs going to the highest bidder in a Beijing hospital, mark my words. But do you think he’d listen? And now it looks like he’s going to be forced to shimmy up the funds by touring the U.S. before the repo man comes for his mitre and stole.

Yet fortunately my dear Consuella has quite a bit of experience when it comes to shaking up a few dollars by touring, and with her contacts I’ve no doubt she’ll be able to secure him bookings at some of best paying clubs in the country. There’s a few details she’ll need from His Grace first – such as whether he prefers to dance the pole or concentrate on floor work, and if he’d rather be paid a flat rate plus tips per show, or receive a commission plus share of bar takings, but once we get a reply on that you can be sure he’ll have bookings coming out of his eyebrows. Although on the other hand, we may first have to do something about them as well…

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Lawrence of South Carolina Holds On

You don’t become the World’s Greatest Bible Teacher without hearing just about everything there is a Bishop can say, but a kind, wise and God-fearing member of our internet community has alerted me to the startling latest pronouncement from Lawrence of South Carolina. Here it is in full, since I’ve got to admit that even a Teacher of my experience has problems understanding what the poor man is talking about:

Canterbury, England

I am glad I came here for this Lambeth and worshipped one last time in the Cathedral home of Augustine and Dunstan, Anselm and Becket, Cranmer and Laud, Temple and Ramsay. I had come to speak a word of hope and perhaps to intervene on behalf of our beloved, but in the last resolve the family refused the long needed measures. So he just slipped away, our noble prince, one dreary morning in Canterbury with hardly even a death rattle.

The new prince was born last month in Jerusalem. I was there—arriving late, departing early. I was never quite sure what I was witnessing. It was an awkward and messy birth. He hardly struck me as I gazed upon him there in the bassinet as quite ready to be heir to the throne. I even wondered at times if there might be some illegitimacy to his bloodlines. But that I fear was my over wedded ness to a white and European world. May he live long, and may his tribe increase—and may he remember with mercy all those who merely mildly neglected his birth.

As for me my role for now is clear, to hold together as much as I can for as long as I can that when he comes to his rightful place on St. Augustine’s throne in Canterbury Cathedral he will have a faithful and richly textured kingdom.

So bewildering is this that I even took the rare step of asking my staff for help. Brother Richthofen thought it had something to do with using too much lube (whatever that means), as he says he can relate to noble princes slipping away from him, while Bishop Quinine believes the Rt. Revd. Lawrence might have found some interesting mushrooms growing in the fields around Lambeth. This upset Evangelical Eric, who prefers to deny Bishop Quinine’s vast knowledge of psychotropic substances, but as I keep telling the lad - nobody can come up with the kind of delusions afflicting GAFCON bishops without some kind of inspiration.

Whatever the explanation, in my opinion there’s nothing serious to worry about. His Grace’s vow to “hold together as much as I can for as long as I can” is a normal sentiment for most Bishops, and shows he’s still able to comprehend the most important feature of his office; namely that having managed to land a position of relative authority contrary to all expectations of anyone who’s ever known him, the most important thing is to now hang on with everything he’s got.

My only concern is his talk of “wedded ness”. The man hasn’t taken time out to visit any Lochs in Scotland, has he? And if he did, please tell me he has entered into some sort of inter-special marriage with any cryptozoic life forms he found there. The last thing anyone needs is another Bishop married to a monster.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Let The Games Begin!

Despite their being Godless Commies, there’s a great deal to admire about the Chinese government. Any regime which persecutes minorities and imprisons critics can’t be all bad, and is closer to the spirit of GAFCON than one might first realise. Combined with the balanced politics of the International Olympic Committee, whose past president Juan Antonio Samaranch was a loyal Spanish Fascist (how can anyone not love a man who insists on being addressed as “Your Excellency”?), and which is currently led by someone who understands the importance of breaking promises about censorship, and the Beijing Olympics promise to set a marvellous example for young people the world over.

I particularly like the way Beijing has set a new standard for the time-honoured Olympic tradition of using pomp, ceremony and fireworks to distract people from petty issues like human rights, and provided some of the western world’s largest companies with a marvellous opportunity to exploit a people who up until now only had the privilege of being exploited by their own leaders.

What’s more, it’s often overlooked that the Olympics are of tremendous importance to pharmaceutical researchers the world over. Where would the modern horse-racing industry be were it not for the amazing developments made by East-German sports-scientists during the 1960s and 70s?

Cleverest of all, however, is the way the Olympics take sport away from the realm of something people do for fun and recreation, and elevate it to a matter of national pride surpassing trifles such as eliminating corruption, making quality health-care freely available to everyone, and ensuring children everywhere receive the finest education possible. In so doing the Olympic Movement keeps alive the ancient tradition of “Bread and Circuses”, bringing us all a step closer to the glorious days of ancient Rome when Our Lord Himself walked the earth. If only we had men of their vision running Lambeth.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Peddling Smut for Jesus with J. Mark Brewer

An astute reader left a comment on an earlier post suggesting that purchasing a book through Mark Brewer’s Third Space Books online facility reveals the internet’s favourite litigant now owns Amazon.

Naturally I checked this claim, and sure enough after clicking the “Proceed to checkout” button I was forwarded to Amazon, where my transaction was concluded. Indeed, since Amazon also has a history of causing the closure of small community focused book-sellers the match seemed seemed logical.

Yet further investigation revealed that Amazon remains a viable business, and their employees are all being paid. Neither have they to my knowledge recently sent any “Cease & Desist” emails, so perhaps rumours of a J. Mark Brewer takeover are incorrect. More likely the two have just formed a simple symbiotic relationship which frees SPCK’s new owner from such burdens as carrying stock, or hiring staff – or all the other nuisances involved in running a bookshop.

Certainly, Mark Brewer’s new range includes titles the old SPCK would have never dreamed of carrying: as just two screenshots from my most stimulating morning’s shopping reveal:





Clearly Orthodoxy J. Mark Brewer style is a whole lot more fun that anyone realised, and I must commend the SSG trust for recognizing that they’ll make more selling copies of "Sinful Sex: The Uninhibited Guide to Erotic Pleasure” (another title that caught my eye this morning) than they can ever hope to get from “Great Beards of Byzantium” or whatever it is that’s usually topping the Orthodox bookseller’s charts. Sure the Venerable Orthodox Arch-Primate of Houston (or whoever the clergyman that banks Mark’s tithes is) might have a few problems with “Solitary Wicca for Life: A Complete Guide to Mastering the Craft on Your Own”, and make sure his medication is handy when he sees “Up All Night: Adventures in Lesbian Sex” - “In the tradition of the very finest erotic best-sellers...”. Yet any true GAFCON Christian will instantly understand that the potential profits more than justify any apparent moral hypocrisy.

As I’m quite certain Mark Brewer would publically deny, in the end it’s all about the money. Now please excuse me, as Consuella and I must practise the position on page 37 in one of our new purchases.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Archbishop Orombi Sets Everything Straight

After being wickedly misquoted by the atheist western media, who published a letter suggesting he is obsessed with homosexuality and believes the west to be source of all evil, Bishop Orombi of Uganda has now made a clarifying statement on a God-fearing Bible-believing web site in which he explains he is actually obsessed with homosexuality and believes the west to be source of all evil.

Even more importantly, Bishop Orombi explains that “When you are known to be the "Gay Church" and a church that can't discipline itself, that severely hinders our ability to engage our communities on such issues as clean water, food, employment, and good governance.”

How right he is! The world is filled with people who would rather die of thirst than risk catching gay cooties from clergy in communion with homosexuals living on the other side of the planet. And hark how succinctly Bishop Orombi summarises his country of Uganda’s tragic history, which several decades ago was a model of justice and integrity, but today – in the wake of Bishop Robinson’s inexcusable installation - has like so much of fundamentalist Africa become a quagmire of corruption and impropriety.

Indeed, rarely a day goes by when some beggar does not crawl to my Rectory doorstep seeking alms, only to run away screaming when they realise the largesse which we are about to bestow upon them is irrevocably tainted by the Communion’s heterosexually challenged members – either that or Consuella’s let the dogs out; but either way there can be no doubt the unfortunate indigent departs understanding all their problems can be directly traced to New Hampshire Episcopalians.

Like Bishop Orombi, we’d love to be more helpful, but can’t because people know we're in Communion with homosexuals. Which has got to be the best excuse since a group of morally unquestionable gentlemen at Nuremburg insisted they were “only following orders”.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Lambeth Saves the Last Dance for Pete

Now that the last Lambeth Lambada is over and the merry throng have been herded back to wherever it is they’ll spend the next ten years grumbling about the Church that has just fed and watered them better than the average parishioner will ever receive in return for their faithfulness, the Archbishop of Canterbury and his inner circle will be feeling relieved to be able to get back to not doing whatever it is that they don’t do for the other nine years and fifty weeks of every decade.

Yet has anyone else noticed how quiet Big Pete Akinola and Little Pete Jensen have been during the past fortnight? Bishop Bobby Duncan managed to grab a few headlines by going public with his dreams of becoming the Grand Poobah of Orthodox North America, but not even this incited Pete & Pete into breaking their new vow of silence. Naturally the peace and quiet won’t last, but there are very interesting reasons behind it.

In Big Pete’s case it’s because he’s been forced to attend more closely to matters at home, and these have had him busier than a one-armed man with crabs. You might be fooled by the smiling faces of Akinola’s clergy, but he isn’t, and there’s no shortage of Nigerian Bishops who are downright bitter at having been forced to miss out on the greatest Anglican rort of them all. Even if they share a cultural fondness sympathy with Big Pete’s psychotic homophobia, since they’re not as fixated as he is on the issue (is anyone?) it certainly doesn’t fill the void caused by their having missed a few weeks respite from the peaceful and bountiful embrace of regional Nigeria.

Little Pete Jensen’s uncharacteristic hush is more complex. Despite buzzing around dear old England like a mosquito in the weeks leading up to ++Rowan’s party, all of a sudden his profile shrank like cotton-candy in hot water. Some speculated this was because the Australian government had refused him re-entry while the Pope was in town, since no country could cope with those two egos in the same place at once, but I think the problem went deeper than that.

In fact sources close to him say the Mouth from the South has actually been terrified Canterbury would follow through on threats of an Anglican Covenant, and wanted to keep as low a profile as possible while that particular stick was being tossed around. Sure, if it ever got passed, a Covenant would stop Episcopalians from enthroning people of Bishop Robinson’s calibre, and just might specify that in the future Bishops are always equipped with a more-or-less functioning penis, but from the Jensen family’s perspective these are secondary to the fact that they know they’d be the first to lose their heads should an Anglican Magisterium ever start holding court.

This is because lay presidency and blatant border hopping – unlike the installation of Bishops – isn’t a one-off event, but a weekly affair that having been let out of the bag that not even the combined forces of Little Pete’s entire family could ever put pack in: when you ordain every loose fundamentalist canon you find it must eventually occur to you that one might very easily emit enough sparks to ignite the packet of fireworks you’ve been keeping in your trouser pocket.

Little Pete may be urging everyone else to abandon their vows and set up shop in imaginary-Sees, but he’s not silly enough to do it himself. And he’s well aware that if the Covenant had been passed he might not have had any choice in the matter.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Archbishop Rowan Williams Heeds My Teaching

At last! The Archbishop of Canterbury has finally started taking my advice, and begun blaming everything on the liberals.

For far too long he’s tip-toed around trying not to offend anyone, when - as I’ve kept telling him - the solution to all his problems has been right in front of him all along – blame all the Church’s problems on the group least likely to defend themselves by hitting back. After all, who are the only ones in the Communion that haven’t threatened to break away? Who have never so much as toyed with the idea of boycotting anything; and who’ve made it clear that they’ll remain loyal no matter how often they get abused, insulted and kicked? The liberals! So obviously they’re the perfect scapegoat, as no matter how what His Grace says there’s no risk of them ever picking up Teddy and finding somewhere new to play.

Besides, isn’t it the liberals who are responsible for what happened to Jesus? To be perfectly honest it’s been a while since I’ve looked too closely at the Gospels, as I generally only preach from Leviticus or Deuteronomy (which I find create a splendid framework for interpreting the Epistles), and for personal devotional material it’s mighty hard to go past Judges and the Song of Solomon, but if I remember correctly didn’t Jesus get very angry with a group of liberals who kept healing people on the Sabbath? And didn’t these same liberals eventually crucify Him for refusing to share their disrespect for God’s Law?

Similarly, wasn’t it Jesus who threw stones at a woman caught in the very act of adultery because the Law says that’s what God demands we do? Even if this is a waste of a perfectly attractive woman whom you just know is likely to be up for a bit when her husband’s not around?

No, while I must get around to one day having a closer look at those front bits of the New Testament, it certainly seems to me that Jesus didn’t have an ounce of empathy for the liberal notion of living in accordance with the Spirit of the Scriptures – but instead demanded we serve God by going straight for the throat of anyone not pedantically obsessed with the Letter of the Law. Which is no doubt why Our Lord was so impressed by the Pharisees.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

My Personal Pet Bishop

Lambeth has just about ground to a close, and what with all the excitement about little Mark Brewer getting picked on by bloggers I’d just about forgotten the Grand Poobahs of Anglicanism were busy accomplishing nothing in Yabbadabbadoo groups - or whatever it is those peace-loving Zulus used to call the meetings they’d have before unanimously agreeing to slaughter their enemies.

Still, the end of Lambeth has had one important ramification for us here at St. Onuphrius’: it means that the time has come for our visiting GAFCON Bishop, the Rt. Rev. Quinine, to leave us and return to the God-forsaken corner of the Communion from whence we found him. Except as I feared, he now doesn’t want to go, and is pleading that we might let him stay.

It’s all complicated somewhat by Evangelical Eric, who’s been coming along so well under Bishop Quinine’s influence. Eric’s fiancé, Miss Celia Crane recently started working for the parish in our Ceausescu Creche Children’s Facility, where she is responsible for shaking the babies, as well as ensuring toddlers “cry it out of their system” – whatever “it” may be – and they’ve both grown so fond of the old drunkard that they’d be devastated to se him leave.

So since I’m unwilling to lose another Curate so soon into this one’s tenure, and Miss Crane is unquestionably blessed with a gift when it comes to ignoring normal human instincts to show compassion towards infants, I’ve agreed to a compromise solution: Bishop Quinine will stay with us illegally as our Bishop-in-Residence on the condition that when it becomes expedient for us to be associated with mainstream non-schismatic Anglicanism – at such times as when our liberal apostate “real” Bishop visits to bestow handouts, for example – he'll pretend to be the Verger. He’s well aware that at the first hint of any disobedience the Authorities will be notified, and that he’ll be deported, never to return, so I can safely say that I’m now the first GAFCON Rector to have their own personal obedience-trained Bishop. It’ll be like having a pet turtle, but more colourful, less messy, and even more impressive when it’s my turn for show and tell.

I predict that in time there’ll be hundreds of clergy emulating my lead, but for now the thrill of setting a precedent is sending shivers up and down my Righteous Backbone. What’s more, since Bishop Quinine is now an illegal alien I know exactly who to call should he grow annoying and compel me to shoot him in the backside.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Poor Mark Brewer - He's not Dave Walker.

Despite operating the best little lawhouse in Texas, J. Mark Brewer is a man in pain. As he’s said himself, he’s a private person, and the multitude of insufferable bloggers daring to question his creative commitment to free speech and business management must be bringing him to tears almost as great as those who invested in a previous Mark Brewer project: the innovative dot.com BidLaw, which looks like it resulted in the world’s first Google click-farm to cost a million dollars – I won’t provide a link to that site because I’m sure Mark would hate everyone surging over there and boosting his Adsense income by clicking on such legally-related topics as “Laser Welding on eBay” – but if anyone’s really interested just Ask Father Christian.

Perhaps because he’s unable to afford my fees - which are coincidentally the same as those of Steve Stockman, who Mark engaged as a consultant few years back, and who's been unkindly described elsewhere as a “nut” (Why shouldn’t congress have passed a bill investigating the Kinsey reports?) – Mr. Brewer has so far not replied to my offers of help. Still, he can be assured that Father Christian is standing by to support him the moment he engages my services. And pays for them in cash, in advance, since the following open letter from Pauline Edwards originally posted as an unsolicited comment here, makes me just the teensiest bit nervous Mark mightn’t have been in class the day they taught Deuteronomy 24:15 at Oral Roberts University.

Mr Brewer,
Could you tell me please, why you told a fellow worker, that their job was safe, and it was o.k. to take their first mortgage out to buy a house. The fellow worker trusted you, after asking you a few times. That fellow worker has took the biggest debt ever, on your assurance, and was only in there new home 2 days, when they were sacked by email, and left this person with no wages to pay their first mortgage payment.
Does this ring a bell Mr Brewer?

In fact here’s another open letter flying around which people have the temerity to think that as a self-professed Christian Mark is under some obligation to answer:

Dear Mr Brewer,
This is neither to be defamatory nor vile. I must simply remind you that in February of this year you failed to attend a meeting that you arranged with my wife, among others. You did not attempt to contact her or any of the other participants instead you chose to be in Cambridge and on the television. I spoke to you at the Cambridge shop to acertain your presence there.
How can you complain of the vile and defamatory language, which I confess I have failed to spot, when your own rudeness is so noticeable and hurtful. I hope to meet you again at my wife’s tribunal hearing and, of course, I continue to pray for you and the booksellers who once so faithfully served the Lord through their commitment to their customers.
Yours in Christ,
Eric

Sadly I fear the pressure could be getting to dear Mark, since I’ve just been forwarded an email he sent to someone in Australia, of all places, which was headed “So you want to send threats to bloggers' victims?” and said nothing but “I am Mark Brewer. Always have been. Always will be.” If living with that isn’t more than any man can bear, what is?

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Lambeth - an S&M Hotbed

If there’s one thing all this Lambeth fuss teaches us, it’s that the Archbishop of Canterbury has a strange masochistic streak. By that I don’t mean the sort of youthful high jinks that Brother Richthofen’s friends from Seminary get up to, with their funny leather costumes and studded paddles, but a really deep-seated desire to be psychologically pushed around and insulted.

Really, why else would he keep asking senior toadies from a church not his own, and which doesn’t even recognise his own Holy Orders, let alone his office as Grand Tufti of All that is Anglican, to come and tell him and his Bishops how they’re doing everything wrong? What on earth does the Big Cheese of Cantaur expect: that someone who delights in kissing the Pope’s ring on a daily basis is going to say “You Anglicans are all the greatest Ministers of God since the Holy Spirit guided Cranmer’s marriage counselling sessions with Henry VIII?”

As the World’s Finest Parish Priest and Bible-teacher I’ve got to say I’ve never met anyone who contributes to my offertory because of what some Cardinal says or doesn’t say. The Romans are a colourful lot, and they can certainly teach us a tremendous deal about treating women as second-class citizens, but at the end of the day anything they might say is secondary to our real business of building profitable and successful parishes. And listening to them tell us over and over how we’re getting it all wrong because we’re not doing things their way isn’t going to help me or anyone else build a Jacuzzi in the manse.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.