As Evangelical Eric will tell anyone who asks, I am a peaceful man; gentle, tolerant, and slow to anger. I abhor violence, and I’m not ashamed to say I’ll personally thrash the living daylights out of anyone who says otherwise. Yet something’s happened to get my doctrinally-pure old blood boiling, and unless something drastic happens heads will roll, even if I have to travel to other side of the world to make them.
Faithful sinners will recall my recently announcing that little Peter Jensen’s accidental misplacement of a paltry one hundred million dollars of his parishioners’ hard-earned assets. As I probably said at the time, accidents will happen, and anyone can lose that sort of money. Afterall, the world’s favorite pseudo-primate could have easily left it on the bus while travelling home from Bible study. Or perhaps it was stolen by a passing kangaroo, or a dingo: I believe things like that happen all the time down there.
Following my homily, delivered out of compassion for those whom like big Pete Akinola have been left devastated by their sugar-daddy’s loss of his diocese’s most important contribution to the Glorious Global Schism, one of the Jensens’ house elves, a delightful little pixie known around the world as Dobby Ould posted on behalf of his owners the definitive statement on the matter at Viagraville.
This should have been the end of things: the usual Viagravillains made the usual appropriate noises; Mari explained how after Googling around for a while she’d discovered that in 1934 an Australian named Jefferson Scorey was charged with investment fraud, and wasn’t this too much of a co-incidence to be co-incidental? Then somebody followed up with a story about homosexual liberals secretly wanting to take his guns, and a moderator warned them about all straying off-topic. Then the exquisite little harpy from South Carolina brought a measure of balance to the whole affair, explaining that since Australian liberals are all billionaires they couldn’t care less about losing the money, but were really just using the whole affair as an excuse to criticize a fine Conservative who just happens to believe she shouldn’t be permitted to read the Bible aloud when in the presence of a man. And that Viagraville would never attack +KJS if she misplaced a similar amount.
But now the troubles unfortunately began. A great number of Dobby Ould’s Sydney readers are prohibited from visiting Viagraville on the account of the very real danger they might catch Anglo-Catholic germs (which they fear almost as much as Gay Cooties) from some of the sub-Christians gathered there, or at very least come into contact with those holding to such heretical notions as a belief in the Efficacy of the Sacraments, or Infant Baptism. Thus he’s obliged to also post any approved squeezings on his own blog, where the local elect can read them without risking accidental contact with anything historically Anglican.
And it has been on this same Portal of Puritanism (my little friend is clearly trying to protect readers from his critic's wickedness, so he's trying to block links from here. Consequently you'll be detoured via an anonymizer. Yes, I know... but you've got to understand house-elves are twitchy little creatures) that an outrageous, wicked apostate Vegemite encrusted son-of-perdition has dared to keep asking questions! Not only has he the impudence to question Lord Jensen’s wisdom on his own disgraceful blog, he even pesters an obvious better about the same paltry issue on their own exegetically infallible pulpit.
Normally I enjoy watching Moore College graduates quarrel: it’s like cock-fighting but legal since the combatants lack the same degree of sentience. Yet this (ditto) is simply disgraceful. Time after time little Dobby explains (sigh - but at least his master will be proud) how Sydney is run along perfectly fair and democratic lines, and that it’s simply a blessing of God (in much the same way as occurred in the recent Iranian elections) that only those whose surname is “Jensen” happen to win everything, and time and again his terrible antagonist dares suggest that processes might be somewhat less than perfectly accessible to all believers, and wonders why the Archbishop won’t deign to answer such esoteric questions as “How did you lose our money?”
As I’ve said, the whole performance is sickening, and Dobby should immediately beg his master to order some of The Family's clumsier members to pay this troublemaker a visit. Everyone knows Orthodox GAFCON heroes can do whatever they damn well want to with their diocese’s money. So they choose to gamble it? So what: their intentions were good and who is anyone to say the end wouldn't have justified the means? Further, just because any process systematically excludes those not agreeing with the men in charge, or who refuse to lie about their sexuality, or happen to be women not prepared to sit at the back of the bus and remain silent until spoken to doesn’t mean it’s not democratic!!!
Will somebody please club those basic facts of Bible-believing ministry into that rogue's dreadful duck-noodle filled head? Fiercely and painfully, but in love, of course.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
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