When -Bobby met ++Rowie

In the wake of former Pirate of Pittsburgh Bobby Duncan’s meeting with the Archbishop of Canterbury the esteemed Bishop Clumber sent a note asking if I had any inside information on what was actually said.

Naturally it just so happens that my extensive contacts extend deep into the very heart of Lambeth Palace itself, and what follows was captured by my top-secret hidden GAFCON recording devices:





Your Grace – we need to talk…









Of course my son.
What splendid eyebrows you have!











Err… thank you my Lord. Now, have you heard what that terrible woman has done to me…?









How do you fertilize them?
I use chicken manure on mine.











Uhmm... Your Grace... simply because I said we wouldn’t play with her any more she’s had me thrown off the team, and now…








Of course they say that any type of dung works well.












Please Archbishop! The liberals and gays have taken away my big pointy hat! They say I’m no longer the Great Grand Poobah of Pitts…







And I once met an old woman in the forest who sold me a jar of Unicorn’s Urine. Oh, the sheen and lustre that came from washing them in that!








YOUR GRACE!!!! I’M TRYING TO TELL YOU THAT TEH LIBERAL QUEERS HAD ME DUMPED!!!



You know my dear Robert, I’d been told that yours weren’t real eyebrows at all, but just some caterpillars one of your African friends stuck on. Yet meeting you in person has shown me that's quite wrong, and that your eyebrows are indeed impressively genuine. Why, they’re almost as spectacular as my own…







Oh my goodness me, Your Grace - thank you. Do you really think so???...






I'm Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Bishop Ackerman Reaches for Bigger Things

News has just came to hand that Bishop Keith Ackerman of the Diocese of Quincy has suddenly tendered his resignation, which will be effective as of this coming Saturday.

In response to which it seems appropriate to share this very special photograph that I've been saving for an occasion such as this. Believed to have been taken at Lambeth earlier this year, it shows the imminent retiree of Illinois and one of his fellow warriors against the wicked west. And no, it isn't a Photoshop special.


For some reason I can't quite understand Brother Richthofen and his friends find it hilarious. Readers can reach their own conclusions, but it's probably better we don't hold a caption competition.

A little house-keeping

There’s a few domestic matters needing attention around here which should have been taken care of weeks ago. Normally anything not directly relating to the Core Ministries of Teaching the Scriptures, Generating Revenue and Raising My Personal Profile are part of Evangelic Eric’s job description, but the foolish lad hasn’t been able to stop trembling since I began studying the phenomena of Stigmata and the potential income St. Onuphrias’ could generate from becoming the global headquarters of Anglican manifestations of this miracle. Consequently it’s probably better I deal with these myself:

1) On the left-hand side-bar is now yet another award. Presented by Kirkepiscatoid - Missouri’s finest lover of history, books and everything else worth caring about, I may have been a trifle tardy in expressing my appreciation, but that should in no way be considered as a lack of gratitude on my part, and everyone reading this is ordered to visit Kirkespicatoid’s esteemed blog and leave a comment expressing their thanks for her having bestowed this honor upon the World’s Greatest Bible Teacher.

2) As Pennsylvania’s wisest cat-lover reminded me a month or so back, the address of MCJ – the bottom-most of our “Gathered Brethren” links - has changed. To be honest I purposefully left off changing it, since the “Access Denied” message the old URL was showing at least had some integrity, which the belly-aching pro-Obama Democrats who seem to be taking over that place sadly lack. Still, for anyone who cares, the Midwestern Conservative Journal is now at www.themcj.com. Obviously they needed to add a the to distinguish themselves from all the other Apostate Liberals calling themselves “mcj”.

3) Some time ago one of my young Facebook friends named Matt Wills (who loves the Brewer Brothers almost as much as I do) asked me to confirm that his blog called A Very Ordinary Title for a Blog really does belong to him. However probably due to my modest Christ-like nature I’m not very proficient at all those new-fangled Facebook things - you wouldn’t believe how many little green-patched fish (or whatever they’re called) I’ve managed to kill while trying to raise funds to send ice-skates to the Sahara (or some such worthwhile cause) – and so I think I may not have correctly done whatever it was that was needed to help the good lad feel confident that it is indeed him who writes all those fine posts in his blog.
Consequently I’m commanding everyone here as a matter of Biblical urgency to visit him immediately and offer reassurance regarding his ownership of the aforementioned blog. After which everyone should then go to Matt’s other blog Looking Forward to the Past and do the same thing there. As I always tell my Bible-class students: “Not only is it educational, but it might teach something.” And there is a Google advertisment which when clicked on led to some most arousing images of young people in bathing costumes getting excited about a weight-loss program they said I can trust.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

P.S. To the guy who keeps sending emails pestering me to install his “Random Bible Verse Generator”: There’s nothing random about anything in the Scriptures – they were all dictated literally by God (or something like that) expressly so that GAFCON leaders like myself can twist them into saying whatever it is we want them to say. And if anyone’s going to be generating any new Scriptures around here it’ll be me. Understand?

Transparency Jensen-style

When it comes to discussing little Pete Jensen and his developmentally delayed family of Sydney Anglicans there’s no secret about the fact that I’d rather shift the conversation to more uplifting topics like bestiality or tropical skin disease. Yet sometimes there’s no alternative for Bible-believing Christians other than to face their objectionable cousins from the south square-on.

After all, not even a creative genius like little Martyn Minns can come up with all of ++Akinola’s ramblings, so it’s important that those of us in the rest of the Communion keep an eye on who else is writing the great wise man of GAFCON's cue-cards. Otherwise there’s no telling how many folk might start believing the future of North American Christianity really does lay with Nigeria – and where’s little Bobby Duncan’s dream going to be if that idea catches on?

And mark my words, while the world has gone into an uproar over Sydney’s latest delusion of orthodoxy, little Pete has managed to slip something smelly underneat everyone’s doormat. The final paragraph of this piece from the Church Times makes public what the world’s favourite nepotist would rather have kept private; that the Sydney synod has “made provision of appropriate financial support to enable Archbishop Jensen to adequately discharge his responsibilities as Honorary Secretary to the GAFCON Primates’ Council.”

In other words, and as I’ve said before, admin and communication costs for the glorious world-wide schism are now funded by the faithful putting their pennies in Sydney offertory plates. Which means it’s a safe bet that much as his bold fellow Gafconeers detest little Pete’s Eucharistic doctrine of the Real Absence, none of them are going to give more than the mildest of squeaks in protest at this particular tear in the Communion’s fabled fabric.

What’s more, you’ve got to admire the grip he’s got on his flock: how many other organisations give their beloved leader permission to spend whatever it takes to “adequately discharge his responsibilities” with no further accountability? We’re talking Kim Jong-il, Robert Mugabe, and just possibly David Virtue, but that’s about it. Sure, it can’t take much in real terms to buy off some the flakier nations on the world’s least stable continent, but just think how much enough pâté de foie gras to stop Layman Schofield whinging must cost. Nor bother trying to kid yourself about that being just a one-off expenditure either.

No, if there’s one thing to be said for the Anglo-Catholic members of GAFCON it’s this: that they’re all certainly men who stand by their principles. And when it comes to the Sacraments it’s wonderful to see them put them being put second to the greatest principle of all – money talks loudest

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Bestiality Sunday

After all my research I’m pleased to announce that in addition to my other academic accolades I should now also be considered the World’s Leading Authority on Inter-species Sexuality and the Bible. In celebration of this fact here at St. Onuphrius’ we’ve decided to call today “Bestiality Sunday”, and have door-knocked every house and business in the neighborhood, inviting people to bring their pets, livestock, and children along to our special Morning Outreach Service.

Naturally the lassies from Consuella’s Poledancers’ Fellowship have generated significant interest among local workshops and factories (several girls have incorporated large snakes into their routines as part of a most enchanting means of bringing sections of Genesis to life), while I’ve been making all sorts of new friends among families excited to welcome me into their homes when I appear on their doorstep with some of the more impressive pieces from my gun collection.

The beauty of this particular topic is that the Bible is so unequivocal: “Whosoever lieth with a beast shall surely be put to death” (Exodus 22:19). Dogs, cats, porcupines and gerbils are all fine – but beasts are expressly forbidden. Even aardvarks and crustaceans seem acceptable (although eating them afterwards isn’t permitted), but beasts are out of the question

Which just goes to show how few people in these terrible times have any understanding of what the Bible really says, since all the recent bother over my pastoral research material even caused my apostate liberal Bishop to call, although he was quickly dissuaded from getting too disturbed by a reminder that the Ugandans are currently getting so upset about their currently coming a distant third to ++Venables and ++Akinola in the GAFCON gold rush that they’re accepting anyone, and did he really want me to discover the Spirit calling St. Onuphrius’ to bring Idi Amin’s heritage to the west?

No; when the Bible uses the term “beast” Faithful Christian Scholars throughout history have known this is a reference to the terrible creature of Revelation 13 (I know there’s actually 2 beasts mentioned here, but don’t bother me with nit-picking specifics at this point) which is actually the Roman Catholic Church. Anyone foolish enough to question this can (in whatever time remains before their condemnation to an eternity of hell-fire) answer me this: if the Romans weren’t a wicked counterfeit of God’s True Church why would they be so dedicated to copying all the very best aspects of Anglicanism, like hating women and gays, or wearing lovely frilly vestments, while at the same time being so full of foreigners? No matter how many times I confronted doubters with this I’ve never received an intelligent reply. Which should just go to show…

All of which means that a plain reading of Scripture showsExodus 22:19, and its equivalent, Leviticus 18:23, actually refer to the revolting abomination of having sex with Roman Catholics. As everyone would know if the liberal reappraisers hadn’t made evangelism a four letter word, Christians wanting to do the wild thing with Romans must first convert them to True Faith. It’s not enough to leave a Jack Chick tract, a false cell-phone number and a promise to call “soon”; Bible-believers must force prospective partners to denounce the Pope before getting down to business.

While this can be a problem in non-commercial relationships, my experience is that Doctrinal Warriors such as myself who are following in the example of faith established by Samson can invariably resolve any problems by offering a few additional banknotes as an incentive. Certainly this costs more, but whoever said following the Scriptures as a faithful servant doesn’t come with a price?

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Persecuted for Righteousness’ Sake

My Dearly Beloved Wicked Faithless Evildoers,

Goodness me the past few days have been a drama. There I was, simply researching the vexing issues concerning western inter-species relationships touched upon (in a purely figurative sense) by Archdeacon Ilogu of Nigeria, and the next thing I knew all hell had broken loose.

Firstly there was the minor matter of a little trouble with police and customs authorities regarding some research material I ordered: never one to waste parish funds I ordered not just single copies of “Happy Hausfraus with Horses” and “Hard Studs and Stallions” from my favorite East-European supply firm, but instead, as any responsible steward would do, six cases of each. In a classic example of how the tentacles of apostate liberalism have permeated our society, a number of law enforcement personnel mistakenly inferred my responsible use of church resources represented an attempt to import marketable quantities of the aforementioned research materials, which resulted in my spending several days in detention until Consuella’s relatives were able to have the matter quietly sorted out with a small case of bullion and some incriminating photos of the District Attorney.

The joy that accompanies my having been like the apostles imprisoned for the sake of the Gospel and my own righteousness has, however, been sadly tempered by the tragic news that Alan Greenspan (a man almost as cheerfully handsome as myself) has been accused of making errors. Not only is Mr. Greenspan a fine Christian gentleman blessed with the same unerringly compassionate economic wisdom as President George W. Bush himself, but he even was even
knew personally the most beautiful, gracious, caring, sensitive and Christian woman who ever lived – the utterly delightful Ayn Rand.

While not exactly renowned for her support of the Church (doubtless due to reappraisers and their inability to comprehend the need for evangelism and outreach), there can be no doubt of the lady’s sainthood, and to learn upon my release that a member of her close circle was being forced to admit he made “mistakes” is more than any Bible-believing Doctrinal Warrior could have imagined. The world really is going to hell in a handbasket – next thing somebody will be claiming Obama is leading McCain in the polls.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Cries of Faith

A fine young gentleman and his foreign friend have in the comments of last Sunday’s post “White people are not good Christians” asked some pertinent questions in relation to Archdeacon Ilogu and his curious understanding of western inter-species relationships. Their inquiries are indeed in the process of receiving my fullest attention, in the course of which The Hounds and I are conducting complex research involving Evangelical Eric and a loin cloth made of Schmackos.

Consequently it will be another day or so before authoritative Biblical answers can be provided, but rest assured we will get to the bottom of the matter (literally in Eric’s case) no matter how much exegesis may be required on the part of my Curate. At the same time Brother Richthofen is searching the web for a picture of the learned Archdeacon Ilogu so that we might be able to photoshop something funny-but-vaguely-insulting place a face to his wisdom.

In the meantime I am drawing attention to another plaintive cry too profound to languish unnoticed in the comments field: a sweet epistle from an obviously pure and unsullied Christian maiden who stands as a testimony to witness of Archbishop Akinola and his countless compatriot clergy:

My Father Christian

Sir, I know you love and pay honour to the Bible and I too love pets and will kiss and please them if it be not watching by any other.

Today I request for your ssistance because I believe that you are not going to betray the trust which I wish to lie on top of you.

I dear Beloved pray all is well with you and others with members of your big family.

My name is Orgy I am 20 years old and the only daughter of my late parents Mr. and Mrs. Borgee. My father was a highly reputable busnness magnet-(a cocoa merchant) who operated in the capital of Ivory Coast during his days.

It is sad to say that he passed away mysteriously in Paris (France) during one of his business trips abroad on 12the November 2005. My only happiness was him having gay time.

My mother died when I was just 6 years old, by lion, and since then my father took me so special as for luck.

Before the death of my Father on November 12th 2005 he called the secretary who accompanied him to the hospital and told her that he has the sum of (USD$17.5 000 000) Seventeen Milion five hundred thousand dollars left in a metalic trunk box, wich he deposited in a Security Company here in abidjan, that he registered it as family valuable items for security reasons, he told the secretary
that I should contact the Company for them to know me as his next of kin wich I have did as he instructed.

He also told the secretary that I should not let any of his relations to know about this because he was kiled by them and if they know about it, that they will do nothing but to kill me (also with lion) in order to take hold of every thing in the box.

He told her that I should seek, a foriegn partner abroad who will help look after my box.

My dear Bible teacher, this is why I have come in contact with you in order to help me retreive that trunk from the Security Companys custody and send it direct to your country and also to make an arrangement for me on how I will come over to your country in other to continue my Love and Education and also to go into relationship with you. I am still a child but have good affection and I don't know any thing about the love or business but my box will surely give you pleasure.

Now permit me to ask these few questions:

1. Can I completely trust you?
2.Can you accept me as your own blood Sister (Or Doughter)?
3.What percentage of the total amount in question will be good for you?

Consider this and get back to me as soon as possible with your full assurance that you will not disapoint me in this issue so that i can give you the contact of the Security Company for you to contact them on how the trunk box will be retreived from their custody and deliver to your country.

Thank you so much for your understanding and may almighty God bless you and your Family to the Glory of God Almighty,

My sincere regards,

Orgy

Dear Child: I’ll take 90% (leaving you a Biblical tithe of 10%), and of course you can trust me. I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Crocodile Tears

“The British period of Anglicanism is coming to an end. I lament that.”

Ex-Bishop of Pittsburgh Bobby Duncan

And if you really believe he’s lamenting that then I’ve got a great bridge in Brooklyn to sell you. It’s going cheap, so you’ll have to act fast…

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

“White people are not good Christians”

Lately my Ask Father Christian service has been getting quite a few nasty emails from deranged non-Christians (who obviously don’t have Dragon-free genitals) accusing me of racism.

The trigger for this obviously deranged accusation appears to have been my important African GAFCON Leaders series, and I must stress that nothing could be further from the truth. Indeed, I make no apology for openly supporting these black teachers, who are boldly shaping the Church’s future in ways that not even Jesus could have imagined.

Besides, it’s plain to see that there’s not a racist nerve to be found anywhere within the GAFCON body. Old colonial notions of color and superiority have been consigned to the past as Bible-believers from both sides of the historic east-west divide come together to share their fears, prejudices, homophobia, and deep dislike of women who believe they can be Bishops.

As proof of this new miracle of the Spirit I’d like to share the wisdom of the Venerable Daniel Ilogu of Okrika Anglican Diocese, Rivers State Nigeria. When asked the sensitive question "Why did white people get involved in the gay issue?" by an interview from the Nigerian Sunday Sun, the profound Archdeacon gave the following insightful reply:

"They are very funny people. They keep animals as pets. They kiss animals and carry them like humans. As for their human level, I don’t know what to say, but their Christian level is another thing. They are not good Christians. This is why they are re-evangelizing them. We have our ministers in Britain, America and all parts of the world who are re-evangelizing the white people."

The rest of the article is just as insightful, and people can read it for themselves here - although I would recommend anyone with a digestive disorder (or any other complaint making it hard to keep food down) just takes my word for it.

And now I must run – my precious two hounds need a walk and we’d like to spend some time playing in the park before coming home and cuddling up on the sofa together in prayerful thanks that men like Archdeacon Ilogu are re-evangelizing the west.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Dragon-free Genitals for Jesus

As any Bible Teacher worth his offertory knows, the Scriptures make it clear that Dragons exist and pose a very real danger to Christians everywhere. Sadly – but as one would expect in this age of apostate liberalism – teaching on the terrible truth of Dragons has been discarded in favour of irrelevancies like forgiveness.

Fortunately Doorman-Priest, who despite being a Lutheran is nevertheless a fine young man and promising Bible scholar, has made a stand against this unscriptural trend. This picture from his fine blog shows a man who has been “sore broken in the place of Dragons” (Psalm 44:19), and plainly illustrates just how terrible these beasts can be.

So clear a warning does this image provide to young people that the St. Onuphrius’ wardens have unanimously followed my order to have a line-drawing version distributed to local children as part of a colouring book designed to teach them about all the terrible things which can happen to those who fail to attend church and regularly tithe.

Yet an email forwarded to me by my wicked nephew shows the noble Doorman-Priest is, like Luther himself, being pressured by Liberals to recant. An excerpt from the condemnatory neo-papal bull says it all:

I am asking you to remove the (now 2) offending posts from you (sic) blog.

If you do not do this I will follow Jesus' procedure, in that 1st I will get a brother/sister in Christ to see if (s)he can change your mind on this matter then I will take it to your church authorities.

As Christian readers will see, not only does this Liberal fail to understand that the grammar in which God dictated the Bible specifies one should write “your blog” – not “you blog” (obviously the writer is a foreigner), but he also has no comprehension of what the Scriptures show Our Lord did when someone got up his nose. John 2:12-25 makes it clear that far from finding some like minded snivelling limp-wrist with a fish sticker on the back of their Prius and an annotated copy of The Purpose Driven Life to echo their whinging, followed an extended period of tattle-tailing to the Sanhedrin, Jesus simply rolled up His sleeves, made Himself a whip out of some handy rope, and flogged the crap out of the evildoers and their livestock until they saw the wisdom of ceasing and desisting.

In defending his moaning the Liberal complains “many people would be offended if they were to come on to your blog” – it’s this kind of false sensitivity that’s destroying the Church. How much more offended will the unsaved be when they discover their genitals have been seized by dragons? How will the Saints be able to laugh at the damned's suffering in Hell, and say “We told you this was going to happen” if we hid the truth for fear of “offending” some over-sensitive child of Satan? Genitals belong to the Church, not to Dragons, and Christians mustn’t care who they offend in making this public.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

A Special Welcome to Everyone from Montreal

Out my great love for the people of Montreal I have in the past frequently prayed that that the Lord would smite them in entirety on account of them (a) being foreigners, (b) being Québécois, and (c) often speaking a language other than English (and I don't just mean Canadian).

As is so often Our Lord’s way, instead of following my suggestions, which involved a Pussycat Dolls concert, followed by a Star Trek convention and total nuclear destruction, He (somewhat impudently, if you ask me) has had another idea, which involves bringing the Diocese of Montreal into repentance, accompanied by a wholesale visit to none other than me – the World’s Greatest Doctrinal Warrior – as a result of a thoughtful link at the bottom of the page here.

In response I would like to extend a special welcome to all of you from the city which inspired my favourite car of all time (although for everyday use my Hummer is far more practical), and trust that through sitting here at my feet you will come to understand for yourselves how great the Anglican Communion will be once everyone repents of such sinful apostate liberal notions of loving one’s neighbour and not casting the first stone.

In fact given time I’ve no doubt we can make Montreal as famous as Toronto when it comes to blessing the rest of Christendom, and if like me you’re getting on a bit in years and aren’t too confident of not having an embarrassing accident after a fit of prolonged laughter, the Montreal Blessing should prove vastly more sophisticated. It’s going to take me a while to work out the precise details, but at very least it should incorporate the Holy Spirit summonsing one to partake of a meal at Dunn’s Famous on Metcalfe Street, followed by an evening of wine and coffee in the Quartier Latin. I know this sounds a rigorous spiritual exercise, but as you’ll come to realise, we don’t do things by halves here at St. Onuphrius’

First of all, however, you’re going to have to understand that God didn’t use all those inconvenient dashes and accent things when dictating the Scriptures, so get rid of them. Have you folk any idea ohow long it took me to work out how to type Québécois?

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Reform catches Duncan Fever

When it comes to being eccentric nobody beats a loony Brit, and in the nation that gave the world both British-Israelism and Ozzy Osbourne it takes a fair bit of work to stand out from the crowd. Yet that’s just what the Cromwellians-for-Jesus Reform have managed to do.

Speaking at their annual conference, chairevangelical (somehow I can never bring myself to use the word “man” in relation to these vacuously smiling victims of arrested hormonal development in open-neck shirts and cardigans) Rod Thomas tried to show he’s just as grown up as little Bobby Duncan by threatening that “3,000 Church of England worshippers may defect to overseas provinces” if he and his fellow nutters aren’t granted alternate Episcopal oversight.

What he neglected to mention, of course, is that it appears they’ll already have the option for alternate oversight in the form of “Flying Bishops” (who only resemble the “The Flying Nun” when attending private parties at Walsingham), which will be appointed for those afraid of catching girl cooties from a female prelate. So why the need for yet another British alternative?

The answer goes to the heart of what will eventually divide the current schism in much the way that certain amoeba and bacteria also reproduce: namely that Reform, like all the other neo-Jensen groups, have absolutely nothing in common with the Forward in Faith Catholics other than that they both hate queers and women. So while they’re happy to trade votes with all the fellows threatening to swim the Tiber if not given their own way, they would sooner eat their own hands than sit down and break bread them. Remember, these are fellows who think little Pete Jensen is being awfully clever by secretly permitting lay presidency. The last thing any of them want is some repressed old thing in more frills than Barbara Cartland overseeing their Puritan Bible barns.

Unlike the United States and (possibly) Canada there’s no question of anyone in Britain taking church property with them when they leave. ++Cantaur might often seem like a silly old duffer lost in the clouds, but he’s certainly not fooled about that one. Little Rod Thomas can rant all he likes; while it’s a certainty his followers will be impressed (since that’s the sort of thing that attracted them in the first place) there’s not a single reason for anyone else to take him seriously. Unlike George Whitefield, whom the members of Reform undoubtedly admire (and not just because of the impressive number of slaves he owned), it’s doubtful any of them have the faith to leave the church they obviously can’t stand. Besides, if they didn’t have the rest of us to complain about somebody might expect them to actually do something.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Dream On, Duncan.

Following on from yesterday’s homily featuring little Bobby Duncan and his interview in Christianity Today there’s one other aspect that struck me as fascinating – his presumption that the hypothetical new diocese’s top job will be his.

As the Dunkster’s crystal ball sees things, he’ll be wearing the big hat in a diocese that’s a subset of Greggy Venable’s province, and which unites all things GAFCON and North American in one big happy ball o’ snakes. Naturally this North American Archbishop would be an honorary monkey for the purposes of the GAFCON Primate’s Council, with the same voting rights as not only his conehead Primate, even the same as Big Chief Akinola himself.

There’s nothing new about this grand vision. Bobby was sharing his ambitions with anyone who’d listen back in late July. Yet folks might also remember that this generous offer of a bright new Duncan-colored future was at the time met with deafening silence from the senior Gafconeers, and the passing of a few months doesn’t seem to have rendered anyone more loquacious on the subject. Sure, they’re all terribly sorry at what’s happened, and delighted the departing Pittsburghers have asked him back, but no one’s breathed a peep about Bobby being the new Right Reverend America and joining the other firsts-among-equals. Except him, of course.

Perhaps this is has something to do with the persistent rumours that Greggy Venable’s decision to break solidarity with the other boycotters and grab himself all the cucumber sandwiches’ and champagne he could find at Lambeth has left him regarded as less than trustworthy by his fellow schismatics. Or maybe it’s because ++Akinola, who’s never been known to decline the offer of a bit more territory being added to his empire, is growing increasingly insulted by the number of realigners passing up on the irresistible offer of a future under his experienced Nigerian leadership in favour of Venable’s relatively inconsequential Anglo-South American hospitality. Combine this with the insult of his very own anointed representative Minns receiving the same cold shoulder from Canterbury as was shown to Bishop Gene Robinson, and ++Akinola’s reported to be taking things even more personally than usual.

A new North American diocese led by Duncan under the Southern Cone will effectively end African territorial ambitions. Giving the leader of this diocese, who’s status will in African GAFCON eyes be at best that of a Nigerian suffragan, a voice and vote equal to that of Big Pete’s will be interpreted as a colonial insult of unimaginable proportions. Combine this with Jensen’s knowledge that his money can buy him all the influence he wants in a meeting in Uganda, but to North Americans like Duncan he’ll still at the end of the day only ever be a crazy nepotistic little Calvinist Puritan from Down Under, and Big Pete can rest assured his bruised ego will have whatever money it needs to be protected from further affront. Bobby Duncan can prophesy all he wants, but it’ll never happen.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Spitting on One’s Cake and Eating it Too

Amidst all the hand wringing and offers of sympathy for ex-Bishop Bobby of Pittsburgh there has been something delightfully contradictory: aren’t all Bible-believing Anglicans supposed to despise the Bishops that deposed little Bobby? So why then do the faithful Gafconeers keep acting as if the Pittsburgh Pirate has been done a terrible disservice?

Call me old-fashioned, but if some sex-crazed apostate liberal told me I was no longer welcome in their Jacuzzi of sin I should feel complimented, not insulted. Their rejection of me would be proof that my inordinate virtue has set me apart from their own filthy ways. Let’s face it, were consistency an attribute required of conservative clergy and prelates (and how I give thanks that it isn’t) little Bobby and his friends would be celebrating that he is now no longer encumbered by a church besmirched by faithlessness.

Yet when interviewed by Christianity Today Bobby tells us that “For the worldwide Anglican Communion to see me deposed has been absolutely sobering, and even moderates are shocked and stunned by it.” Which, if true (and you must remember this is Bobby Duncan talking), suggests to me that the worldwide Anglican Communion must be even sillier than we already think.

For goodness sake, dear Sinners, What did everybody think was going to happen??!! Ask anyone with a real job: if you continuously insult and defame your boss, organisation, and nearly all your colleagues, you will eventually be shown the door. If you regularly boast that you’ll soon be leaving and taking your employer’s property with you it’s a safe bet the process of your dismissal will be considerably hastened. So why the surprise?

What little Bobby is displaying is a common tendency among Reasserters to want to spit on their cake and eat it as well. They love defaming the Anglican Communion, and telling anyone who’ll listen how it’s rotten to the core, but then they’ll scream like babies when it gets taken away from them. It’s a trait common to many of us who are Doctrinally Pure, but one must know when to stop and not take things too far. Or else the rest of the party just gets bored and gives you what you’ve been asking for. Which, as ex-Bishop Bobby Duncan appears to be discovering, isn’t necessarily what you want.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

African GAFCON Leaders: Mark Thompson

Mark Thompson, the African GAFCON leader pictured above, is for me forever linked with great personal shame; a fact I have hitherto never shared with anyone. It is a cause of unceasing embarrassment to my family that our proud lineage is stained by a wayward nephew, a young Priest of such despicable inclinations that words simply fail to describe him.

In an attempt to set the lad straight we banished him to the other side of world, where it was hoped a spell at a strict educational establishment would make him see the error of his ways. Upon enrollment he was entrusted to the care of the nascent theological powerhouse above, who after unquestioningly serving the Jensen family while himself a student had just been rewarded with an appointment as a junior lecturer, with particular responsibility for students of my nephew’s dismal calibre. Given the zeal with which he had previously debased himself as class toadie, my family held high hopes that he might similarly be able to reform our disgraceful black sheep.

Tragically this was not to be. One of my nephew’s friends and fellow students (another truly shocking excuse for a clergyman) to this day describes Mark Thompson as “the stupidest person I’ve ever encountered” - no mean feat considering the company he keeps. Instead of impressing his students with Biblical maturity, insight and unyielding orthodoxy, Mark Thompson instead became known throughout his home town of Sydney Australia as “the Duck” on account of the vaguely orgasmic quacking sound he'd make when pronouncing the name “Luther” – a figure whom the Rev. Dr. Thompson remains convinced was actually an English Puritan.

With this sort of thinking it was inevitable that Duck Thompson would become a key member of the GAFCON Theological Resource Group, and it has now been revealed that he was one of those attending the recent Ugandan meeting of which until now nothing has been announced. Perhaps one reason for the secrecy was that not all of the Confessing Fellowship (or whatever they’re called this week) are too happy about the Resource Group’s membership: how the Forward in Faith Catholics must feel about this charming little essay, which blames all of contemporary Anglicanism’s problems on Newman and Tract XC, is anyone’s guess. Whatever you do just don’t ask Layman Schofield for an opinion: the resulting apoplexy would undoubtedly be fatal.

Curiously enough this piece was removed over a month ago from the GAFCON site, although it is still on the Anglican Church League’s, a fact obviously unrelated to Mark’s presidency of that association (which itself says more about them than I ever could). In its place GAFCON has put an article entitled “Authority in the Church” which should prove less inflammatory, although even this is not cited in the body of the GAFCON “Resource Papers” page, but is instead buried in the left hand links column. Perhaps the fundamentalist Muslim scholar from whom the Duck plagiarised his doctrine of Scripture has taken offence, and would like his due credit.

Beyond all this, however, it remains that when seeking to understand the Duck’s key role in GAFCON one must recognize his obvious African heritage. Just as ++Akinola keeps saying, GAFCON is a movement of the two-thirds world against the apostasy of their former colonial masters. Whereas my foolish nephew still insists Rev. Thompson is as stereotypical an example of sheltered Sydney Anglicans as is possible to find, any Bible Believer looking at this Jensen family serf can easily see he’s just as much an African as the Ethiopian eunuch of Acts 8:27. Except perhaps the eunuch was more virile. And much nicer.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

My Latest Ministry Innovation

Yesterday I received an email offering financial reward in return for writing and publishing a review of somebody’s product and web site. Now as the product in question was a “non-medical program for curing facial tics and other Tourette’s-related problems in children” (I give you my word I’m not making this up!) I felt uncharacteristically bound to decline the proposal: if God hadn’t meant us to deal with these things medically we wouldn’t have been given electrodes and James Dobson.

Still, the idea of incorporating Biblical Teaching with paid advertising has merit, and I’ve begun working on ways of including promotional material and product placement in sermons, which if properly applied has the potential to revolutionise parish finances around the world.

As a result of this inspired breakthrough St. Onuphrius’ sermons will in future be featuring advertising for which marketers are charged according a sliding scale: cheapest will be simple product endorsements (“While enjoying the hearty new McFester Burger for lunch last Wednesday, the Lord showed me that… ”), followed by product placement (instead of a plain glass of water, or in Bishop Quinine’s case rubbing alcohol, our preachers will now refresh themselves from prominently displayed bottles of whichever beverage manufacture is the highest bidder) and branding (given Nike’s commitment to Gospel values and human rights I’m hoping to strike a deal which involves their logo being embroidered upon the altar cloth and all our vestments in place of the cross – a nice big swoosh would look quite sporting across the back of my Chasuble when consecrating).

The next tier is a direct recommendation from the pulpit, which for a further fee can be accompanied by Biblical endorsement (“Isaiah 26:27 teaches that the Lord makes the way of the righteous smooth, and nothing’s as smooth as Dungbeetle Toilet Tissue, so it stands to reason that if your household isn’t using Dungbeetle you’re just not righteous.”)

At the highest level comes simple coercion, where it is simply demand all parishioners purchase a given quantity of a product or else be damned for all eternity. This should prove particularly useful for anyone wishing to ensure their book reaches the best-seller lists, or that a movie achieves a record-level opening gross. After all, if this strategy works for Tom Wright and J.I. Packer how can it fail to succeed for everyone else?

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

The Sarah Palin Show Trial

News has just reached St. Onuphrius' that an investigation concluded Sarah Palin “violated state ethics laws and abused her power” by trying to have her former brother-in-law fired from his position as a state trooper.

Now as the World’s Greatest Bible Teacher there’s not much about ethics and abusing power which I haven’t studied first hand, and it should be made clear from the outset that I firmly believe if a person loves Jesus, Guns and Greasing Palms (and not necessarily in that order) it’s just plain impossible for there to be anything even remotely sinful about them putting a little honest old-fashioned pressure on whoever might be getting in their way. So whatever our sweet little moose-killing Vice-President-to-be did or did not do is really of nobody’s concern other than perhaps the person she did it to. And since he is kinfolk, and this is Alaska, everyone really ought to left alone to shoot it out for themselves come next Thanksgiving.

Still, it’s the duty of One as Righteous as me to examine this liberal beat-up more closely, and once you look beneath the facts things aren’t as simple as they seem. Firstly, the so-called “independent” investigator is someone called “Branchflower” – call me a traditionalist, but I’ve always believed in judging a book by it’s cover (how else can one ascertain the quality of Naturist magazines?) and no man with a name sounding like it was chosen from a florist’s catalogue could possibly be anything other than a covert agent for the International Sodomite Conspiracy. Or perhaps some kind of sick environmentalist: say what you will, but I don’t trust him.

Equally troubling is the photograph reproduced below of investigating legislative committee’s Chair and Vice-chair:

Bible-believing readers will note that the Chairman, shown seated on the right, is not only a Democrat, but even has a beard! So we all can see he’s clearly not a Christian, and was obviously some sort of satanic plant from the beginning.

Fortunately the Vice-chair was a Republican, and consequently Christian, but she is a woman! So how could she be expected to understand the complex issues at stake? What’s more, in accordance with Biblical teaching she would have been obliged to defer to the “men” on the committee, meaning she’d have been in no position to overrule their foregone conclusions, nor even to speak out, as Scriptures make it clear she must remain silent and save any questions for her husband when she gets home.

Which itself raises further questions about the competency of this unjust farce: what kind of a man would allow his wife to be part of a committee which includes Democrats with beards? No, the whole thing smells fishier than Todd’s overalls. If you ask me Bishop Gene Robinson has got to be involved with this somehow, and it’ll only be a matter of time before little David Virtue finds the connection.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

African GAFCON Leaders: Chris Sugden

Great Britain is home to not just one, but two fine humorists named Chris Sugden. The first is best known for his character Sid Kipper, a Norfolk folk singer of exceptional insight, while the second, and funnier of the two is an African GAFCON leader.

Shown above, Canon Dr. Sugden, is the Executive Secretary of Anglican Mainstream International, a gloriously English group who in accordance with all the ancient creeds, define themselves as “committed to the traditional biblical teaching on marriage, the family and human sexuality”. Which I’m sure is something the Council of Nicea intended to include, but just didn’t get around to.

In addition to this important task of clarifying what our forebears meant to say, Canon Sugden also serves as Research Tutor and Fellow of the Oxford Centre for Mission Studies, where his African ethnicity gives him first hand experience in understanding the mistakes of the past, and ensuring future generations don’t repeat the arrogant colonialism of the past, when Anglo-Saxon westerners presumed to speak on behalf of others with little or no regard for them as people. As a modern Conservative Christian academic Chris understands that it’s nowadays only acceptable to treat others with this sort of distain when discussing those of a different sexual or theological orientation.

Known colloquially as “Happy” due to his cheerful demeanour when lecturing (as the picture here admirably illustrates), it is not known if Chris has “friends” in any commonly understood sense of the word. He does, however, have a mother (contrary to rumours that he was actually found under a rock somewhere), and a wife, both of whom are pictured below

This photo was actually the cause of some controversy when originally published, since on first glance it appears Mrs. Sugden is actually smiling. In a subsequent statement by the Sugdens this slur was denied, and they explained she was in fact grimacing with revulsion at the thought that at least one in twenty of the hands featured on the quaint wall-hanging behind her belonged to a person who has at some time in the past enjoyed life. And, the Sugdens asked, "Who know's where such hands may have been?"

Chris’ hobbies include acting as a “mediator” on others’ behalf, taking an obsessive interest in matters relating to human sexuality, and accumulating frequent flyers points at other’s expense.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

African GAFCON Leaders: Stephen Noll

Recently all manner of scurrilous allegations have started to be voiced concerning GAFCON’s legitimacy as the true voice of two-thirds worlds Anglicans fed up with Apostate Westerners turning their backs on good old-fashioned colonialist bigotry and hatred. To counter this falsehood, which dares to suggest GAFCON actually represents a move by disenfranchised white conservatives to further their own causes by throwing money at African churches in order to garner support and legitimacy for their campaign against such evils as human rights, equality, and the need for clergy to receive an academically rigorous theological education, I am starting an occasional series on some of the lesser known GAFCON leaders.

This will, I have no doubt, show that despite defections to the English ++Venables are currently outnumbering those to ++Akinola by something like ten to one, the spirit, heart and effluvia of GAFCON remains intrinsically indigenous. Colonial notions of white leadership have been consigned to the dustbin of history, and what we are now witnessing is an uprising of those to whom the faith was delivered so long ago. The nations whose ancestors whose ancestors quite probably ate those who initially brought them the Gospel have now been called to bring those first truths back to the nations who dispatched these faithful but under-armed missionaries.


First up in this new series is The Rev. Prof. Stephen Noll, Vice Chancellor of Uganda Christian University in Mukono Uganda. Pictured here with his wife Peggy, I must confess to finding the pair strangely arousing, although this may just be an after-effect of the mushrooms Bishop Quinine found growing in the woods.

As you can see, they are both living examples of GAFCON’s African origins, and it is believed “Grassy” (as Dr. Noll is known to his associates) was a key player in the conference recently held at his esteemed institution.Since GAFCON represents a new wave of openness and transparency for all Bible Believers, irrespective of their nationality and ability to think coherently, it’s quite understandable that not a word of this soiree’s proceedings has been made public. Transparency doesn’t involve telling people what you’re doing, and anyone suggesting to the contrary is nothing more than a bare-faced Reappraiser.

No; transparency actually involves using every cliché you’ve ever heard, and making every promise under the sun, in order to convince others of your own legitimacy. Which is why we in the west should all feel so ashamed of having abandoned the Scriptural foundations of our first love in our race to Hell in a handbasket while the church we grew up in is hijacked by the Homosexual Conspiracy etc etc etc blah blah…..

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

GAFCON Ministry Possibilities

Talking yesterday about the veritable goldmine of creationism just waiting for the Anglican Communion to begin effectively exploiting started me thinking, and another marvellous opportunity for us to exploit the gullible came to mind - End Times Teaching.

I must confess that this was also suggested to me some time ago in an email from Robert a fine young reader who was curious about what implications the marvelous world of what we all too readily intellectualise as “Eschatology” have for those of us who are part of God’s One True and Faithful Church.

Now from the outset let me stress that hypothesizing upon “the Last Things” is for many otherwise inferior denominations the heart and soul of their Minister’s Lear Jet, not to mention the other essential accoutrements of modern populist preaching. As Anglicans we are, of course, above such novelties and gewgaws, preferring instead to more maturely invest what we can squirrel away, but the principle remains the same: there are enormous fortunes to be made in inventing outlandish interpretations of such Scriptures as the Revelation to St. John, or Daniel, and given how creative we’ve managed to be with subject of homosexuality or, for that matter, Ordination, there’s simply no excuse for us not to be similarly leading the world when it comes to scaring the wits out of the gullible with talk of the antichrist.

For an example of what can be achieved just look no further than Hal Lindsey, author of that seminal work on the subject, The Late Great Planet Earth. Now despite being sillier than a Scientologist watching a Tom Cruise movie, and considerably less Biblically literate, this book has managed to sell over thirty-five million copies since it was first published in 1970. Or if it’s young people you’re trying to reach, take the Left Behind series: is it any wonder that after buying all 16 volumes of this thing kids are addled enough to think joining True Love Waits or Silver Ring Thing is going to stop teen pregnancies. Hang on – there’s another great idea for an area Anglicans need to start exploiting! Perhaps Consuella’s Pole-dancers’ Fellowship can help get our own version of these going on behalf of the GAFCON primates…

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Creationism: a bold new possibility for division.

In stirring up a whole ark full of creationists by daring to suggest that a hard-line conservative Calvinist might be less than reliably qualified as an expert on palaeontology Bishop Clumber has recently hit upon something which members of the Anglican Communion have largely hitherto ignored: namely than banging the old Creationist drum is a great way of getting a significant albeit unstable and excitable section of Christendom worked up enough to stick their hands in their pockets and support one’s ministry.

For too long we’ve been happy to concentrate on homosexuality at the expense of all the other bees in conservative Bible Believer’s bonnets, thereby letting the big money floating around all the other obsessions go to non-Christian groups like Baptists and Pentecostals. I say this has to change: it’s perfectly possible to be homophobic and claim Adam and Eve rode dinosaurs. Not only would this double the number of our extremists, it could also lead to wonderful new potential internal schisms: instead of simply discarding our apostate liberal leaders because of their disgusting commitment to Christ’s ridiculous notions of acceptance and inclusivity, we could now choose to leave because our pure and unreasoning faith is incompatible with the liberals' rejection of Genesis, which stands as the foundation of our faith. Besides, everyone knows scientists are almost impossible to fool into handing over large donations, nor do they generally have anywhere near as much to give as important professions like property developers, politicians, or fun-park operators, so in embracing creationism it’s not as though the Communion risks losing any big supporters.

Can you see the benefit this would have for Bishops who’d like to leave, but aren’t sure they’d get the numbers in a synod vote? Instead of asking people to vote on going or staying, they could instead be called to vote on leaving because the hierarchy’s position on homosexuality is an abomination, or leaving because it’s impossible for Christians to fellowship with anyone denying the truth of our Creator God’s Creation. Either way the schism could occur unimpeded by allegations of procedural mischief – it would have been the result of a fair and plain vote. So everyone could just shut up and get back to the important work of building their leaders’ empire.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Father Mullen has an idea.

It’s with great joy that I read today of the The Rev Dr Peter Mullen’s proposal that Homosexuals be tattooed with some sort of indentifying mark.

I’ve long thought there must be a better way of determining if the gentleman standing next to one at a public urinal is just shaking off the last few remaining drops, or is indeed pleased to meet a greatly endowed man of the cloth, and a nice clear tattoo would be a wonderful way of settling doubts without the need for any embarrassing questions, which always involve the risk of receiving a shocked answer in the negative.

The one problem with this suggestion is, of course, that the Bible strictly prohibits tattoos, but since the tattoo would only being applied to Sinners, and often against their will, I’m sure the Holy Spirit would be only too happy to grant us a little wriggle-room here. Besides, think of the time one would save when casually taking the dog out for an evening walk in order to meet an “acquaintance”, or while looking for a decent interior decorator.

Sadly it appears that Fr. Mullen, who as Church of England Chaplain to the London Stock Exchange is blessed to minister in a place untroubled by immorality or avarice, has succumbed to Apostate Liberal pressure to remove the blog upon which he made his excellent suggestion - http://petermullen.typepad.com/ is currently not working, although thanks to the miracle of Google caching his teaching can still be seen here. Scroll down a bit to the section headed “Matthew Parris” and you can see why Mad Priest is tipping Fr. Mullen as the next Bishop of Carlisle. Either that or he’s a shoo-in for Nigerian Inspector-General of Prisons.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

GAFCON Secrets

Unfortunately St. Onuphrius’ bid to become the global center of an international Stytlite Revival has taken a bit of a tumble, since we’ve had to bring Evangelical Eric down from his ladder in the Manse garden.

Following the very good advice from our virtual parishioner Two Cents, Brother Richthofen and his friends from Seminary decided to help him through the yesterday evening’s chill by lighting a gentle warming fire at the base of his ladder, but being relatively inexperienced in such matters the lads neglected to see that Eric’s ladder was itself wooden, and the spreading flames begun causing our pioneer evangelical pillar-saint some distress. Things could still have been resolved with a garden hose at this point, but instead Bishop Quinine attempted to douse the flames by casting the contents of his drinking flask upon them. Regrettably moonshine is a far from optimal substance when it comes to extinguishing fires.

All well that end’s well, however, since the resulting fireball simply burned through one of the legs of our Curate’s ladder, causing it to collapse, and in so doing catapult him far from harm’s way. In the aftermath of all this excitement I instructed Brother Richthofen and his friends to give him a good bath, haircut and shave, and then tuck him into bed to sleep off the shock. Naturally the cost of replacing our parish ladder will have to be deducted from Eric's stipend, but this shouldn’t take him more than a few months to pay off.

If only sorting out exactly what’s going on with the other GAFCON was just as simple. Their site at www.gafcon.org was down for most of the past week, and has only reapeared within the last few hours. Perhaps it was just being transferred it to a new home on little Peter Jensen’s servers, but if this is the case they certainly made no attempt while they were effecting the change to update the site to inform readers of the latest exciting GAFCON developments.

Which is a shame, because if the Ugandan government-owned newspaper New Vision can be trusted (and I recognize that’s a big if) 39 GAFCON bishops wound up a key planning meeting on September 30 - an event you currently won’t find a mention of on the GAFCON site.

Held in Mukono Uganda, the meeting allegedly attracted clergy from around the world, including North America, Great Britain, Australia, and (of course) Nigeria, the latter whom would have found the event conveniently timed as a follow-on to their own synod. My reports are that it was held as part of a growing campaign to strengthen pan-African control of GAFCON, since it’s no secret that the on-going success of Bishop Venables' North America expansion is beginning to leave ++Akinola and his Lambeth-boycotting followers nervous, and more than a little resentful.

Certainly it doesn’t appear any big names were among those westerners attending – and it is unlikely proceedings could have been kept so secretive if there had been – but neither was there any reason to invite them, since the official GAFCON vision for an “alternative” North American diocese has never included a plan to give the top-job to a faux-latin Englishman. How on earth could that occurring possibly help the vital missional imperative of channelling funds, green-cards and a near-infinite number of frequent-flyer points back to one’s extended family, cronies and pretty young “sisters” in the Lord?

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

More GAFCON Ethics in Action

Faithful readers will know that I watch little Peter Jensen, Archbishop of Sydney Australia, as closely as I do Bishop Quinine when he’s near the Rectory silverware, and for the same reasons. Consequently this note from a noble Australian blogger which appeared in the comments of an earlier post is especially worthy of everyone’s attention:

In reports from the Standing Committee to the Sydney Diocesan Synod to be held in a few weeks time the following can be found:

The Standing Committee had declared 6 churches to be affiliated with this Church in this Diocese under clause 4(1) of the Ordinance. As at 7 August 2008, each of these declarations remains effective. Details of these affiliations are as follows:

On 11 December 2006 the Standing Committee resolved to affiliate with the following 3 churches:
Northern Lakes Evangelical Church Newcastle Senior Pastor: The Rev Connan O'Shea
Albury Bible Fellowship Riverina Senior Pastor: The Rev Chris Little
The Point Community Church Grafton Senior Minister: The Rev Steve Covetz

On 10 December 2007 the Standing Committee resolved to affiliate with the following 2 churches:
The Lakes Evangelical Church Newcastle Senior Pastor: The Rev David Sheath
Maitland Evangelical Church Newcastle Senior Pastor: The Rev Roger Burgess

On 16 June 2008 the Standing Committee resolved to affiliate with:
Stanthorpe Evangelical Community Church Brisbane Senior Minister: The Rev Neville Heywood

In bold after each “church” is the Diocese in which this “affiliate” is located, and – surprise, surprise – each happens to be somewhere well known for its readiness to stand up to little Pete and his team of thugs relatives. Similarly, those Australian Anglo-Catholic Dioceses who are happily compromising everything their movement holds dear (presbyteral presidency, Catholic tradition, and liturgical sophistication to name just a few) in order to follow Sydney’s instructions in National Synod voting just happen to have avoided the establishment of one of these exciting exercises in sheep-stealing.

To be fair however, at least when the Jensen family and serfs talk about “church planting” they really are starting something new, albeit only in the same sense as introducing ticks or tapeworms into an area represents an increase in bio-diversity. In contrast, The Most Reverend Peter Jasper Akinola, DD (as he likes to be informally addressed) counts his “realigned” North American parishes as successful “missionary plants”. Which could come as a surprise to some of the antebellum Episcopal families of Fairfax Virginia, whom I suspect aren’t used to being considered as the product of anyone’s horticultural endeavors – let alone those of a petty African demi-despot who demands a reduction in the size of his country’s government, but whom from 2002 to 2007 managed to increase the size of his own administrative bureaucracy by at least 34%. Which is a pretty odd way to spend the offertory, even by my standards. Particularly in a country where poverty is endemic. Just imagine what the place would be like if they had homosexuals and women bishops as well?

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Bishop Venables: GAFCON Ethics in Action.

Continental drift has claimed another parish: St. Aidan’s Windsor, Ontario (which is in Canada, for those of you who were home-schooled) has decided they’re part of little Greg Venables’ Southern Cone.

The manner in which this was decided stands as a beacon to responsible parish decision making: an announcement from the Diocese of Huron explains that was it the result of a vote taken by only about half of the congregation. Even more impressively, the Bishop’s two representatives were denied entry to the meeting, and refused any opportunity to present the case for doing something as outlandishly orthodox as acknowledging that an Anglican parish in the Diocese of Huron is in fact historically, logically and legally part of the Diocese of the Huron.

I’ve always said that the less informed anyone is when making a decision in my favour the better, and it’s apparent that his little Grace Venables shares this attitude. Never let your underlings find themselves bothered by facts, nor the shocking suggestion that there may well be another side to the argument. Just make sure they do what you want them to do, and then seize the spoils.

I was also please to see that both St. Aidan’s newsletter and the ANiC site have also taken steps to counter the shocking misinformation that they are opposed to women’s ordination. As they say, “the Anglican Province of the Southern Cone currently does not practice women’s ordination” but North American churches “are completely free to practice their consciences on this matter.” Unlike, of course, South American churches in the Southern Cone, who better damn well do what their Primate tells them if they value their toes and earlobes. This should end once and for all the shocking rumour that the Province of the Southern Cone expects Americans and Canadians to abide by the same rules and obligations as foreigners, when it’s so clearly obvious they’re in every way better Christians.

Besides, both sites make it clear that the Anglican Network in Canada has an extremely positive attitude to women’s ministry, stressing that “the prestigious role of assistant to Bishop Harvey” is actually held by a woman. Which ought to silence the critics for good: what could possible be more prestigious than making Bishop Harvey’s coffee, scheduling his meetings, and taking his stained vestments to the cleaners?

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Vale Grendel

As much as it pains me to admit it, I’m not very good at funeral orations. Partly that’s because they do not customarily include an offertory, but mainly because, like my fellow GAFCON leaders, I tend to find myself lost for words when not talking about myself and/or those with whom I disagree. Obviously this is not a weakness that has prevented me from becoming an extremely powerful figure of international renown, but the truth is that sometimes, in the still of the night, a quiet small voice reminds me of my failing, and dares to suggest it may indeed be proof that there exists those who are greater in the Kingdom of Heaven than even me.

Even more curiously, the form which I imagine that small voice as taking is invariably non-human; generally canine or feline. There’s no mystery to this: the humbling fact I have come to realise over the years is that Our Lord’s non-human children are frequently blessed with a different kind of wisdom, one which when we can dare to be honest with ourselves we ignore at our own peril. That these creatures bring us joy, companionship, laughter and messy stains which we often only learn too late are far more precious than the carpets which they have soiled is something we all know, but that they can also teach us to see God in ways that the Proud and Important like myself never can is something vital to remember. Not that I’d necessarily advise you to raise the subject when jockeying for power, position or money in your favourite ecclesiastical meeting, but don’t be ignorant of it either. One can fool one’s fellow church leaders most (if not all) of the time, but sadly not even I can fool God.

In saying all this I am avoiding the subject I most need to address, but the one which of things I would most like to not be true – that a canine beyond estimation, the Hound of Righteousness whom we knew as Grendel, has passed. He is gone, but beyond all the brouhaha of faith from which I have earned a fine penny is the Truth that he is also Not Gone, but rather just beyond the tyranny of time upon which we also find ourselves crawling, albeit only for an instant….

… there you go, just like a human I’m playing with words in order to avoid showing how I really feel. That’s a folly to which creatures like Grendel never succumb. If something’s good they’re happy, and if not they growl, and try to attack it: the one thing they never do is try to manipulate others to avoid showing how they really feel. To this end Grendel was a saint – we look at the picture below and cannot help but be drawn into his joy.

And yet this joy came in the wake of an earlier life of mistreatment. When I’m ill treated there’s no secret about the pride in which I feel at holding a grudge; surely on this basis Grendel had more than fair cause to despise our species in perpetuity. But he didn’t. On finding love he learned to respond not just with love, but also with true heartfelt joy. In so doing he lived forgiveness in a way I’m privately afraid Church Leaders like myself only feel fear at the thought of comprehending. He may not have been a little dog, but he was not a very big one, and yet he was, and in Christ is, far bigger than most of us.

Providing I don’t partake of the fruits of Bishop Qunine’s still too regularly, it will, I trust, be some time before I have the honor of meeting Grendel face to snout, but the awkward truth is that I shall, as will all of you. Personally I believe he may begin that meeting by laughing at me, for dogs and cats have a divine disrespect for the pomposity which I have found so temporally rewarding. Even so, it shall be a laughter in which my redeemed old heart shall share; again, one look at that face and I can’t say I haven’t been warned. Nor can any of us who knew him say we haven’t been blessed for doing so, or that we shan’t one day be so blessed again. Until that day may the Lord bless and keep you grace, mercy and comfort. And (& I’m only saying this because I can fear Grendel’s spirit is calling on the Lord to demand I do so) may you all be kept safe from the clutches of clergy like me. Faith involves running and laughing like a little dog – not arguing and cursing and hating. By all means growl and bite when necessary, but don’t ever become so obsessed with doing so that you forget to find joy in your gravy.

Please remember Aghaveagh and Liam in your prayers, along with all of Grendel’s family and friends.

And Be Loving. Accept Dogs. Do It Now.



He’s Grendel, and unlike most of us he really did teach the Bible. Even though he’d never read it.

Archbishop Akinola feels irritated and twitchy.

If, like me, you’ve noticed a temporary reduction in the number of emails coming from orphaned heiresses or the widows of senior government officers, all of whom require help in appropriating delightfully large sums of money, then here just might the explanation: last week Archbishop Peter Akinola and his retinue of lively lads were busy with the Ninth Nigerian General Synod.

Since it’s clear from the language of both his opening address and closing "pastoral letter" that for a change Big Pete wrote his own releases alone, commentators everywhere have jumped at the chance to see the great man’s mind at work without the usual veneer of coherence being added by little Minns or Jensen.

And what a great mind it is too. Father Mark Harris provides the most insightful evaluation, yet I think he, like most reviewers, misses the heart of Big Pete’s genuine concern at what he sees occurring in Western Christianity.

In the excerpt published on Father Mark’s site our favourite Archbishop mentions his distress at finding an article in Tell magazine about someone being apprehended in a London suburb whilst in the act of knowing a sheep in the Biblical sense. The image has clearly left its mark on the Nigerian Primate, as he makes mention of elsewhere, including in an interview with one of his country’s leading newspapers.

Which should hardly be a surprise to anyone: I can well relate to the distress caused by discovering the same old humdrum Sins when perusing publications in hope of broadening one’s knowledge of the wickedness in men’s heart. Whilst I’m not familiar with Tell, if as I suspect, ++Akinola was perusing an expensive top-shelf imported magazine, then the last thing he should expect to find practices with which he is already familiar.

That’s because the simple truth is that bestiality is really rather old-hat in ++Akinola’s part of the world. Back in February 2006 a butcher at the Chanchaga abattoir in Niger State was caught doing exactly the same thing as the fellow in London - Tell might well have simply plagiarised this story. I recall the matter being reported by the Nigerian Tribune in some detail, but since their online archives don’t extend that far back I can only refer readers to a copy here. Nor is this creative meat-worker the only Nigerian to have partaken of the love that dare not baa its name: Charisma reports the Nigerian Preacher T.B. Joshua miraculously delivered a man from a spirit of bestiality – although speaking personally I’d want proof before I’d let him take my aunt’s Chihuahua for a walk.

No, if Archbishop Akinola really wants to keep abreast of the latest British iniquities my recommendation is for him to leave Tell alone, and instead study Razzle and Reader’s Wives. Or, as I do when the Spirit blows from a different direction, Vulcan. Either way, I’ve no doubt the experience would leave him a lot less tense and irritable.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

J.I. Packer Speaks (Isn't there a famous story about an emperor’s clothes?)

One of the most exciting things I’ve learned since our internet access was restored is that young James Innell Packer has been addressing the Anglican District of Virginia’s second conference.

Now admittedly I was initially surprised to learn the Virginians had invited J.I. to come and harangue them, since one would have thought given their alliance with Nigeria and CANA, combined with their long tradition of recognising black rights and opposing discrimination in any form, they'd have invited an African to address them, especially seeing as how countries like Nigeria and Rwanda have so much to teach us in the west about Christian compassion, love and harmony, but when I read little David Virtue’s account of the proceedings I could not help but reconsider.

In a Virtue On Line exclusive (which actually means someone persuaded the matron of the institution to which little David is currently committed that it would be reasonably safe to give him a day pass, and bought him a Greyhound ticket so that he could attend the press conference) J.I. Packer amply shows why he’s famous for writing a book often considered the Christian equivalent of the “Brief History of Time” thing that everyone bought and nobody ever actually finished reading. Except that Hawkin’s book was exciting compared to Packer’s “Knowing God”, and twenty years after it was published nobody buys it, whereas our favourite schismatic is still making so much in royalties out of his tome that even Tom Wright can’t think about the money without feeling his throat tighten.

Which is, of course, why it’s the greatest Christian book ever written, and far more authoritative than the Bible. Judging by the quotes David Virtue was able to remember from the event, young Packer hasn’t lost any of his way with words, as these gems illustrate:

"You never come to the end of the realities that Scripture presents to us. Keep learning and keep on applying what you learn to life." Which is why we know we’re correct, and that nobody outside of our schism has anything to teach us

"We are walking home to heaven." That’s why we must insist that we’re holier than everyone else; because justification by grace actually means we're doing the work ourselves, and we’ll never get there if we start worrying about the log in our own eye.

"The Archbishop of Canterbury is an honest man and by being honest he has positioned himself over a barrel…" And therein lies the problem. What the Communion needs is a dishonest Archbishop of Canterbury – and clearly J.I. Packer and his fellow neo-Nigerians know just where to find one.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.