When it comes to giving presents, the Scriptures are perfectly clear: the only person to receive gifts on that first Christmas morning was Jesus. That’s right, My Beloved Sinners, you won’t find any account of Joseph and Mary leaving out any little knick-knacks for the postman and Bethlehem refuse collectors. Nor did Jesus hand the wise men a few discount CDs in return for their gold, frankincense, and myrrh. In fact the Bible unambiguously shows the giving was strictly a one-way transaction, with the loot going only to the wisest and most righteous person in the room.
Consequently I’ve always maintained it’s entirely incompatible with Scripture for me to purchase presents for anyone. As Christ’s Vicar, and clearly the most mature Christian in any context or gathering, a plain reading of the Bible indisputably refudiates (thank you Sarah!) the notion that anyone other than myself should be receiving gifts.
Even so - as I’m sure little Chuck Colson tells anyone impertinent enough to remember Watergate - there are times when a true leader compromises the battle for the sake of winning the war. Which is why I take Consuella’s threats regarding what will happen should I ever dare practice what I preach in regard to Christmas giving. Not that I’m afraid, of course, but our regular exegetical studies in the Song of Solomon are too important to risk discovering she really isn’t bluffing when she threatens to “show me what a Lambeth boycott really is”. (And if I ever get my hands on the pagan who wrote Lysistrata so help me… ) Consequently I never fail to give the members of My Ministry Team generous and thoughtful gifts, and this year I was planning to get them something both contemporary and useful: the Apple iPhone Manhattan Declaration app.
As I use a Windows Mobile device (there’s something about having one’s cell phone routinely freeze and require resetting that truly helps maintain a Conservative attitude of dissatisfaction with life) I’m not that familiar with how these Apple things operate, but I know enough to recognize little Chuck Colson and his developers came up with something technologically wonderful in this. A kind of digital gaydar, the program demands user answer a serious of questions: give the wrong answer and your phone starts flashing while a siren screams “HOMO ALERT HOMO ALERT”. Connect the optional electrodes and transformer kit, and this is pleasantly accompanied by painful shocks to the physical extremity of one’s choice.
Yet just prior to my ordering these pragmatic presents my attention was belatedly drawn to a message from a faithful Facebook friend advising that this helpful piece of digital homophobia has been withdrawn by Apple. That’s right, Mr. Jobs has personally stopped his company from selling this compassionate hate-app, and Conservative Biblical Christians like myself are simply furious at this blatant violation of our right to the freedom of speech.
Mind you, freedom of speech isn’t something Apple should ever extend to those wanting to sell applications featuring images of people’s smelly bits. This is a matter of principle - the principle not being one of general freedom of speech, but the Conservative right to say whatever one wants, irrespective of how offensive and hateful it might be.
Not, of course, that I wasn’t prepared for some sort technical difficulty – as I already said, my regular exegetical studies in Song of Solomon with Consuella are too important to risk losing. And besides, I always thought there was something suspiciously fruity about Apple. So rather than a vicious & theologically doubtful present I’ll instead be sending Evangelical Eric the explosives and detonators he asked for (actually the request came from the Islamic tribesman he’s currently staying with – they sent me a lovely portion of one of the lad’s ears as a keepsake, which I’ve now hung on our Christmas tree as a truly unique decoration), and Bishop Quinine will be getting sea-monkeys again. Every year he always gets so excited by the picture in the advertisment, only to be disappointed when the little crustaceans finally hatch, but there’s something about his optimism that for me really sums up what Christmas is really all about.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Suffer the little children.
Christmas is still a few days away, but this year House Republicans have given a present early to one of the neediest and most underprivileged groups in the world – wealthy old men.
That’s right, My Beloved Sinners, despite have romped through the Senate with 112 co-sponsors, thanks to the faithful work of Republican Congressmenthe bipartisan International Protecting Girls by Preventing Child Marriage Act was stopped as dead in its tracks as most of those young brides will be once theirpurchasers loving husbands have finished with them.
Biblical Christians everywhere should indeed give thanks that the right for men to enjoy an exploitative and lecherous life of pedophilic matrimony has been so bravely defended from this bill, which would have authorized the President to provide assistance through NGOs engaged in the wicked, wicked practice of promoting female health. Sure its rejection may result in lives of abuse, misery, and utter degradation for countless children, and more than a few young girls may needlessly die. Yet as every Conservative should know, what’s a little collateral damage when considered against the more important right of dirty old lechers to do whatever gets their rocks off?
We’re also indebted to the pro-coathanger lobby for muddying the waters. Prior to the vote Reps. John Boehner and Eric Cantor circulated a memo advising that the bill would fund abortions and "overturn pro-life laws" – even though it actually contains no mention of abortion of family planning. It's dishonesty like this that should make every Believer proud to stand with those leading the struggle to keep children suffering.
Naturally the Godless Liberals, whose twisted hermeneutic would deny that Mark 10:13-16 explicitly teaches children should suffer, are getting worked up about the Republicans’ heroic stand. It has even come to my attention that there’s a petition at http://www.change.org/petitions/view/tell_the_house_stop_stalling_and_protect_girls_from_child_marriage which thousands of apostate sinners have already signed. Since I’m sure none of you, My Beloved Sinners, would ever consider opposing the right for parents to sell their daughters to rich old men, I’m absolutely confident none of will follow the shameful example set by my Consuella, whom I regret to say has also been misled into adding her name to the list.
That’s right, so deceptively credible are those who would deny rheumy-eyed pervs the opportunity to enjoy a little invigorating conjugal bliss with a sweet-bodied 12 year old , that their arguments have even persuaded members of my own household! Look for yourselves, My Sinners, but be careful to not let what you see convince you there’s anything wrong with girls and women suffering. After all: when has Christmas ever had anything to do with standing up for those not rich and powerful?
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
That’s right, My Beloved Sinners, despite have romped through the Senate with 112 co-sponsors, thanks to the faithful work of Republican Congressmenthe bipartisan International Protecting Girls by Preventing Child Marriage Act was stopped as dead in its tracks as most of those young brides will be once their
Biblical Christians everywhere should indeed give thanks that the right for men to enjoy an exploitative and lecherous life of pedophilic matrimony has been so bravely defended from this bill, which would have authorized the President to provide assistance through NGOs engaged in the wicked, wicked practice of promoting female health. Sure its rejection may result in lives of abuse, misery, and utter degradation for countless children, and more than a few young girls may needlessly die. Yet as every Conservative should know, what’s a little collateral damage when considered against the more important right of dirty old lechers to do whatever gets their rocks off?
We’re also indebted to the pro-coathanger lobby for muddying the waters. Prior to the vote Reps. John Boehner and Eric Cantor circulated a memo advising that the bill would fund abortions and "overturn pro-life laws" – even though it actually contains no mention of abortion of family planning. It's dishonesty like this that should make every Believer proud to stand with those leading the struggle to keep children suffering.
Naturally the Godless Liberals, whose twisted hermeneutic would deny that Mark 10:13-16 explicitly teaches children should suffer, are getting worked up about the Republicans’ heroic stand. It has even come to my attention that there’s a petition at http://www.change.org/petitions/view/tell_the_house_stop_stalling_and_protect_girls_from_child_marriage which thousands of apostate sinners have already signed. Since I’m sure none of you, My Beloved Sinners, would ever consider opposing the right for parents to sell their daughters to rich old men, I’m absolutely confident none of will follow the shameful example set by my Consuella, whom I regret to say has also been misled into adding her name to the list.
That’s right, so deceptively credible are those who would deny rheumy-eyed pervs the opportunity to enjoy a little invigorating conjugal bliss with a sweet-bodied 12 year old , that their arguments have even persuaded members of my own household! Look for yourselves, My Sinners, but be careful to not let what you see convince you there’s anything wrong with girls and women suffering. After all: when has Christmas ever had anything to do with standing up for those not rich and powerful?
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Monday, December 20, 2010
A Christmas message from a faux-primate in Pittsburgh
Dear Father Doctor Reverend Christian,
Golly Gee I’ve had such an exciting this year what with being just like a real primate and all so I thought I’d just send you this quick note to tell you all about how I really am just like a real primate. The way things are going it won’t be long at all before I’ll be needing to take off my shoes and socks and count when people ask how many other primates think I really truly am just as real as they are.
Not that everything has been easy. The Rwandans in America said they want to keep pretending to be in Africa, and people have told me they might’ve been crossing their fingers when they said they’ll be my bestest best friends forever. Nor has little Peter from Sydney been able to come and play as much as he used to, on account of him have wasted all his allowance on investment advisors’ commissions he doesn’t want to talk about. And Jack Iker’s been worrying about some of my clergy giving him girl cooties, while Royal Grote and whatever his Protestant Reformed pack are calling themselves this week aren’t talking to me because Forward in Faith are. Although actually they aren’t much either,since they’re all too busy dreaming about going to the Vatican so as to get away from Homos once and for all.
Still, it'll take more that a little thing like ecclesiastical civil-war to stop my club now! Next year I’ve announced the wonderful news that we’ll be planting ten thousand hundred billion ninety new churches, which is even more than last year’s wonderful announcement of fifty million hundred new plants. And I’ve announced that I’ll be appointing thirty-seven hundred million thousand new bishops, all of whom will also think I’m a real primate. So there!!!
Meantime there’s just one more thing I must tell you, and wowee - it’ll really shut up those liberals nasty liberals who keep saying I’m not a real primate. This one time during the year when I was on an airplane going somewhere to do grown-up primate stuff just like real primates do, the flight attendant came and personally gave me some colored pencils and a Gold Junior Pilot badge! You can bet your last patootie that’s not something they do for Lady-high-and-mighty Presiding Bishop Jefferts Schori.
++Bobbie Duncan PRIMATE
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Four Rules of Praying Like A Pro.
I regret to say so, but at this time of year it’s common for many less mature Clergymen to lower their standards and permit amateurs to pray aloud in Church. Personally I feel this makes a mockery of everything Biblical Anglicanism stands for, since you can be absolutely certain Martin Luther and the Reformers didn’t give their lives on the Cross for our sins in order that just anyone might stand up and talk to God.
Still, far be it from me to prevent any of My Beloved Sinners from showing their congregation how Conservative Christians should really sound. Simply by following these four important rules you too can intercede as well as any professional with a lifetime’s worth of bogus degrees and credentials from every internet shopfront in Christendom. In fact I wouldn’t be in the least bit surprised to hear that by paying close attention more than a few of you end up enthroned as ‘bishops’ in ACNA by the end of January!
1) Remind God of the Basics.
2) Use Incomprehensible Language.
3) Affect an Accent.
4) Betray Confidences.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Still, far be it from me to prevent any of My Beloved Sinners from showing their congregation how Conservative Christians should really sound. Simply by following these four important rules you too can intercede as well as any professional with a lifetime’s worth of bogus degrees and credentials from every internet shopfront in Christendom. In fact I wouldn’t be in the least bit surprised to hear that by paying close attention more than a few of you end up enthroned as ‘bishops’ in ACNA by the end of January!
1) Remind God of the Basics.
While the incarnation and atonement might be pretty big deals to you and I, God tends to forget about them. Maybe that’s because He’s so busy ignoring starving children in order to help us find a parking space at Home Depot when we’ve got to purchase a new snow blower in a hurry. Or perhaps because seeing all those Youth Pastors masturbating when they think nobody’s watching (How Our Lord must weep every time one of them gets in the shower!) leaves Him too distressed to remember soteriological trivia.
Whatever the reason it’s our duty to remind Him at every opportunity. While you’re at it include as much Scripture as possible, since it’s also unlikely He’s as well versed in that as you. The following illustrates what you should be aiming for: “Almighty Father: As Your Word states in Romans 5:10, You have reconciled to Yourself all those who trust in the atoning death of Your Son, who by the shedding of His blood on Calvary established a New Covenant. For You have revealed in the ninth chapter of Hebrews…”
2) Use Incomprehensible Language.
Public prayer is the one instance when nobody’s going to think you’re telling an Amish joke if you start using ‘Thee’ and ‘Thou’. Although don’t think speaking ‘King Kames’ is all it takes to pray like a professional. The more complex and meandering your syntax the better, and there’s no such thing as too obscure a theological term if you’re serious about making an impression. Feel free to make words up if you can’t remember any genuine ones: in the very rare circumstance anyone dares question you afterwards just give a a faint-but-patronising smile and explain they needn’t concern themselves about such matters until they’re “ready for the meat of the Gospel”, but in the meantime you recommend they read something obscure by Pusey or Packer, depending upon, of course, which end of the Church you happen to reside.
Try this “... and thus, Eternal Lord, we beseech and magnify Thy anti-nomian parousia in estimation of the pompatus of love, O Father, reflecting not but that we might, but rather therefore that we might…”
3) Affect an Accent.
Let’s face it, when it comes to Anglicanism sounding English always adds credibility. If ++Rowan Williams spoke like he came from Arkansas all this talk about an Anglican Convenant would have disappeared years ago.
But don’t think just any English accent will do. It must be upper-class, or else you're simply wasting everybody's time - and just because God is eternal is no reason to believe He doesn't get bored just as quickly as the rest of us do. Cockney is fine if you’re trying to lead your Congregation in a rousing chorus of Chim Chim Cher-ee, or sell them stolen watches, but forget about it when it comes to prayer. Nor is drunken Scouse effective, although a crazed Scottish “Gezz aw yer bunsens ur i'll gie ye a Glascaw kiss.” can work wonders when it comes to the collection.
Under no circumstances should you ever attempt an Australian accent. The congregation will panic, and run out in search of the dingo they believe has taken your baby.
4) Betray Confidences.
This is the part that keeps everyone listening. “… we pray also for Mrs. Johnson from the Altar Guild, who has been struggling with immoral thoughts as a result of watching the firm young man next door shovel snow from his driveway…”. Since you’re praying nobody will ever dare label your words as gossip, so you’ve got a free pass when it comes to getting even with anyone who’s been getting in your way.
Don’t be shy about dropping names either, since you only have the prayee’s best interests at heart and it's easy to justify any pain you cause by saying that God knows exactly who they are anyway. Yet remember that some of the most effective prayers leave everyone guessing about the subject’s identity: “Let us commend to Your fatherly goodness the young person who came to me requesting prayer concerning a deeply shameful personal matter...”
In fact there's not actually any need for truth to play any part in things at all. Simply making it all up can work wonders when it comes to getting what you're asking for: “…we also entrust to your care, gracious Lord, the member of our Vestry who has been observed secretly associating with those who have chosen to pursue a homosexual lifestyle, and we ask that all your Servants may be blessed with wisdom in their dealings with this young man, so that he may by Your Mercy be wise in his choice to seek life instead of death.”
God mightn't be fooled by this one, but providing your Parish is Conservative enough it's guaranteed to never fail when it comes to keeping pesky wardens in line.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
I'm Orthodox: Fly Me!
Like me, you’ve probably all been wondering why little Bobby Duncan and his Senior Cultists keep racking up frequent-flyer miles at a rate normally only enjoyed by drug mules and Bishops with successful publishing deals. (Yes, Beloved Sinners, there is a difference. At least I think there is.)
After all, now that their sect is established there’s surely no need to keep the circus on the road, and as every single one of their clergy and parishioners knows more Christian Truth than any other person alive (with the exception of myself, of course), it’s hardly as if they can learn anything by having guest preachers visit. Besides, with more prelates than parishioners the contents of their collection plates must be getting stretched pretty thin as it is, without the added expense of ensuring the bodies of ACNA’s upper echelons spend as much time as possible in the same clouds in which their heads reside. So why do they keep feeling such an overwhelming compulsion to minister to the personnel of America’s airports? Surely it can’t just be a secret attraction to the young men and women at the stands selling racy paperbacks?
Thanks to Bishop Quinine this mystery is now solved, and we are all greatly indebted to him for his research. After conducting Matins last week he felt a clear calling in his spirit to enter the phrase “sex tapes and leaked nudie pics” into Google, which as an obedient and faithful servant of the Scriptures he then did without hesitation. And just just look at what he found!!! (Don’t worry: the link is completely work-safe, although Matt Kennedy may have some problems explaining the title when Hostillium completes her daily check of his browsing history.)
That’s right: going through airport security now involves letting someone point a camera at you that takes pictures exactly like what you’d hoped to see when as a kid you sent away for those x-ray glasses advertised in the back of comic books. And after reading this account of what people whose careers advisor encouraged them to leave school and stare at an x-ray screen for eight hours every day have been doing, Bishop Quinine couldn’t get down to our local airport fast enough.
That’s right: every morning he’s been buying himself a ticket on the cheapest flight available and walking in and out of security as many times as they’ll let him: after completing his scan he claims to have left something behind in the car, or that he needs to purchase urgent medication (which is probably closer to the truth than anyone realizes), or that he’s received a call from a desperate parishioner – whatever it takes to get back out those doors and in line for another examination. Then just prior to take-off he cashes in his ticket and comes home in time for Evening Prayer. Before falling asleep exhausted with the kind of happy-but-troubling smile you only ever seem to find on schismatic Bishops.
Which is undoubtedly not unlike what the ACNA travelers are themselves getting up to. Nor are thrills simply restricted to exhibitionism: when Bishop Quinine’s feeling particularly romantic he opts for the new ‘enhanced’ body pat-down procedure instead. If that isn’t tailor-made to meet all the requirements of today’s repressed Conservative leader I don’t know what is. Hopefully we can all expect them to soon start looking a lot more relaxed. Although I suspect TSA officers will soon be demanding higher pay.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
After all, now that their sect is established there’s surely no need to keep the circus on the road, and as every single one of their clergy and parishioners knows more Christian Truth than any other person alive (with the exception of myself, of course), it’s hardly as if they can learn anything by having guest preachers visit. Besides, with more prelates than parishioners the contents of their collection plates must be getting stretched pretty thin as it is, without the added expense of ensuring the bodies of ACNA’s upper echelons spend as much time as possible in the same clouds in which their heads reside. So why do they keep feeling such an overwhelming compulsion to minister to the personnel of America’s airports? Surely it can’t just be a secret attraction to the young men and women at the stands selling racy paperbacks?
Thanks to Bishop Quinine this mystery is now solved, and we are all greatly indebted to him for his research. After conducting Matins last week he felt a clear calling in his spirit to enter the phrase “sex tapes and leaked nudie pics” into Google, which as an obedient and faithful servant of the Scriptures he then did without hesitation. And just just look at what he found!!! (Don’t worry: the link is completely work-safe, although Matt Kennedy may have some problems explaining the title when Hostillium completes her daily check of his browsing history.)
That’s right: going through airport security now involves letting someone point a camera at you that takes pictures exactly like what you’d hoped to see when as a kid you sent away for those x-ray glasses advertised in the back of comic books. And after reading this account of what people whose careers advisor encouraged them to leave school and stare at an x-ray screen for eight hours every day have been doing, Bishop Quinine couldn’t get down to our local airport fast enough.
That’s right: every morning he’s been buying himself a ticket on the cheapest flight available and walking in and out of security as many times as they’ll let him: after completing his scan he claims to have left something behind in the car, or that he needs to purchase urgent medication (which is probably closer to the truth than anyone realizes), or that he’s received a call from a desperate parishioner – whatever it takes to get back out those doors and in line for another examination. Then just prior to take-off he cashes in his ticket and comes home in time for Evening Prayer. Before falling asleep exhausted with the kind of happy-but-troubling smile you only ever seem to find on schismatic Bishops.
Which is undoubtedly not unlike what the ACNA travelers are themselves getting up to. Nor are thrills simply restricted to exhibitionism: when Bishop Quinine’s feeling particularly romantic he opts for the new ‘enhanced’ body pat-down procedure instead. If that isn’t tailor-made to meet all the requirements of today’s repressed Conservative leader I don’t know what is. Hopefully we can all expect them to soon start looking a lot more relaxed. Although I suspect TSA officers will soon be demanding higher pay.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Stop Supporting Real Missionaries!
I am greatly indebted to Fr. Orsen Carte from Bible-believing Anglicans - a site personally recommended to me by somebody called David Ould (Christianity’s First Omniscient Deacon™) - for drawing my attention to young Michael Jensen’s desperate plea for a few thousand of everyone’s hard-earned.
It seems Conservative Evangelicalism’s Crown Prince has been invited to share his empowering message of misogyny and bigotry with the people of the Balkans, a place Beloved Sinners will immediately recognize as being in desperate need of more religious division and hatred. Rather than dip into his own extremely generous and secure stipend (a rarity, I'm told, these days in Mordor) he’s chosen to give missionaries an extra special Christmas present by diverting funds away from those whose ministry and families are dependent upon donors' generosity.
In fact I’m so impressed with young Michael’s thoughtless determination to continue in his father and uncle’s tradition of faithfully applying Matthew 23:15 that I’ll be emailing each member of the Macedonian Cabinet to congratulate them on issuing the lad with a work visa, since a Biblical Christian like Michael Jensen wouldn’t even consider misleading immigration officials by undertaking the pretense of being a tourist. Naturally I’ll be paying particular attention to Muslim politicians, as it’s their constituents who stand to benefit most from some rousing Calvinist Bible-study and a return to sectarian violence, although I’ve heard the Orthodox churches are always happy to welcome someone moving onto what they traditionally see as “their” turf.
Perhaps we should also arrange for there to be some sort of present waiting for young Michael when he arrives. Since I’m sure the cavity searches at Skopje Airport are a little more vigorous than those my Sinners tell me are not infrequently enjoyed by certain Moore College faculty members and students in the changing rooms of a nearby swimming pool, he’ll be bound to be cheered by finding a little something waiting to show how much the rest of the world appreciates Sydney Anglicanism spreading its tentacles.
I’m sure if we write to the Macedonian Minister for Defence Zoran Konjanovski he’ll be happy to let us provide young Michael with something useful for his trip, like a Kalashnikov and a small jar of plastic explosives. Just watch this video to see how friendly and helpful he looks: Konjanovski (he likes to be known by his surname only, and it’s probably safer to not risk upsetting him) is the warm fellow in dark glasses who lets Natasha from the Rocky and Bullwinkle Show do most of his talking. Surely he’ll be simply thrilled to learn he’s been predestined to eternal damnation for permitting a woman to teach?
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
It seems Conservative Evangelicalism’s Crown Prince has been invited to share his empowering message of misogyny and bigotry with the people of the Balkans, a place Beloved Sinners will immediately recognize as being in desperate need of more religious division and hatred. Rather than dip into his own extremely generous and secure stipend (a rarity, I'm told, these days in Mordor) he’s chosen to give missionaries an extra special Christmas present by diverting funds away from those whose ministry and families are dependent upon donors' generosity.
In fact I’m so impressed with young Michael’s thoughtless determination to continue in his father and uncle’s tradition of faithfully applying Matthew 23:15 that I’ll be emailing each member of the Macedonian Cabinet to congratulate them on issuing the lad with a work visa, since a Biblical Christian like Michael Jensen wouldn’t even consider misleading immigration officials by undertaking the pretense of being a tourist. Naturally I’ll be paying particular attention to Muslim politicians, as it’s their constituents who stand to benefit most from some rousing Calvinist Bible-study and a return to sectarian violence, although I’ve heard the Orthodox churches are always happy to welcome someone moving onto what they traditionally see as “their” turf.
Perhaps we should also arrange for there to be some sort of present waiting for young Michael when he arrives. Since I’m sure the cavity searches at Skopje Airport are a little more vigorous than those my Sinners tell me are not infrequently enjoyed by certain Moore College faculty members and students in the changing rooms of a nearby swimming pool, he’ll be bound to be cheered by finding a little something waiting to show how much the rest of the world appreciates Sydney Anglicanism spreading its tentacles.
I’m sure if we write to the Macedonian Minister for Defence Zoran Konjanovski he’ll be happy to let us provide young Michael with something useful for his trip, like a Kalashnikov and a small jar of plastic explosives. Just watch this video to see how friendly and helpful he looks: Konjanovski (he likes to be known by his surname only, and it’s probably safer to not risk upsetting him) is the warm fellow in dark glasses who lets Natasha from the Rocky and Bullwinkle Show do most of his talking. Surely he’ll be simply thrilled to learn he’s been predestined to eternal damnation for permitting a woman to teach?
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Friday, December 3, 2010
What did you do in the war, Archbishop Okoh?
As everyone should know, prior to leading orthodoxy's homeland little Archbishop Okoh enjoyed a distinguished career in the Nigerian Army. While his military past is often cited by his many faux-African admirers, the glorious ways he and his fellow soldiers defeated the insolent Biafrans are sadly rarely mentioned. To redress this injustice I offer My Beloved Sinners the following:
No doubt little Martyn Minns feels tremendous pride in his friends when viewing what they so eagerly got up to...
I'm Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
No doubt little Martyn Minns feels tremendous pride in his friends when viewing what they so eagerly got up to...
I'm Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Oh the Pain!
CAN YOU BELIEVE IT????!!!!!
Dearly Beloved Sinners, not five days have passed after I introduced my little uncomplimentary complementarian friend to the world, and already he’s complaining of criticism and invective being thrown his way.
Why anyone would possibly want to ridicule such a fine young man, who owes his success and security of employment to exactly the same kind of talent that has brought Kim Jong Un to the world’s stage, is utterly beyond me. In a heartrending post the young heir recounts the challenges faced by his family’s fundamentalist predecessors, who he says have “been asked to stand between savagery and civilisation” since 1788 (no wonder their legs are feeling tired) “in what appeared to all as a godforsaken corner of the world only good for exiles and aborigines.”
Oh the pain! How can the heart of any woman whose vocation has been denied as a result of his inventive “theology” not grieve for his suffering? Or how can those of us whose churches and communities have been torn apart by the fruit of his family’s border-jumping not weep in sympathy for the scorn and mockery he must endure as result of his faithful commitment to the restless work of exchanging the love of Christ for an exclusive and hateful lie?
Indeed, one would think that given the support the Sydney regime has shown for little Henry Orombi and his army of Ugandan Death Eaters there would be people from around the world ready to defend young Michael Jensen from these cruel taunts. After all, surely homosexualists everywhere must be grateful for all the times they were ridiculed and bashed at school, and would be only too eager to shield those now spreading the Pharisaic poison from which their attackers spawned? And why, for goodness sake, aren’t people who’ve been fortunate enough to see their parish assets stolen by a pseudo-anglican cult rushing to protect the next generation of those who’ve encouraged and sustained the thieves?
No, words fail to express how appalled I am by the notion that anyone would dare to mock this young fundamentalist. In saying that I know I speak not just on my own behalf, but also on that of the esteemed British Priest Fr. Orsen Carte, in addition to my Beloved Sinners everywhere, whom I know would be never even contemplate reading any blog daring to make fun of someone as righteous as a well-connected Gafconeer.
At least there is one bright side to the boy’s torment: he’s managed to retain enough Conservative self-centeredness to fail to realize that his wicked critics aren’t so much seeking to attack him, as they are working to encourage those laboring under the dangerous notion that Jesus’ ate, drank and laughed with the sort of people that Pharisees have quite properly always sought to exclude from the kingdom of God. If my Conservative Brethren ever realized the danger they face when then the Great Unwashed start laughing at them they’d really get worried. Because we all know what will happen next: the people Jesus loved will refuse to any longer remain shut out of the Church established by God to bring them Life, Love, Hope and Acceptance – and when that happens there won’t be a Covenant in the world which can put things back into anyone’s closet.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Dearly Beloved Sinners, not five days have passed after I introduced my little uncomplimentary complementarian friend to the world, and already he’s complaining of criticism and invective being thrown his way.
Why anyone would possibly want to ridicule such a fine young man, who owes his success and security of employment to exactly the same kind of talent that has brought Kim Jong Un to the world’s stage, is utterly beyond me. In a heartrending post the young heir recounts the challenges faced by his family’s fundamentalist predecessors, who he says have “been asked to stand between savagery and civilisation” since 1788 (no wonder their legs are feeling tired) “in what appeared to all as a godforsaken corner of the world only good for exiles and aborigines.”
Oh the pain! How can the heart of any woman whose vocation has been denied as a result of his inventive “theology” not grieve for his suffering? Or how can those of us whose churches and communities have been torn apart by the fruit of his family’s border-jumping not weep in sympathy for the scorn and mockery he must endure as result of his faithful commitment to the restless work of exchanging the love of Christ for an exclusive and hateful lie?
Indeed, one would think that given the support the Sydney regime has shown for little Henry Orombi and his army of Ugandan Death Eaters there would be people from around the world ready to defend young Michael Jensen from these cruel taunts. After all, surely homosexualists everywhere must be grateful for all the times they were ridiculed and bashed at school, and would be only too eager to shield those now spreading the Pharisaic poison from which their attackers spawned? And why, for goodness sake, aren’t people who’ve been fortunate enough to see their parish assets stolen by a pseudo-anglican cult rushing to protect the next generation of those who’ve encouraged and sustained the thieves?
No, words fail to express how appalled I am by the notion that anyone would dare to mock this young fundamentalist. In saying that I know I speak not just on my own behalf, but also on that of the esteemed British Priest Fr. Orsen Carte, in addition to my Beloved Sinners everywhere, whom I know would be never even contemplate reading any blog daring to make fun of someone as righteous as a well-connected Gafconeer.
At least there is one bright side to the boy’s torment: he’s managed to retain enough Conservative self-centeredness to fail to realize that his wicked critics aren’t so much seeking to attack him, as they are working to encourage those laboring under the dangerous notion that Jesus’ ate, drank and laughed with the sort of people that Pharisees have quite properly always sought to exclude from the kingdom of God. If my Conservative Brethren ever realized the danger they face when then the Great Unwashed start laughing at them they’d really get worried. Because we all know what will happen next: the people Jesus loved will refuse to any longer remain shut out of the Church established by God to bring them Life, Love, Hope and Acceptance – and when that happens there won’t be a Covenant in the world which can put things back into anyone’s closet.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Move over, Tyndale.
Reporters attending the launch of my epic new novel The Satanic Bicycles explained that even though Mormons and Muslims both start with ‘M’, only the latter issue fatwas, although in exceptionally terrible circumstances the Salt Lake City leadership can organize Osmond Brothers reunion concerts.
This, of course, has proven a great setback to my proposed publicity campaign, and things were getting quite bitter before Bishop Quinine eased the tension by convincing the rather bewildered representatives from Desert Saints Magazine that their church’s prohibition against alcohol only applies to drinking the stuff (“And, again, strong drinks are not for the belly, but for the washing of your bodies” Doctrine and Covenants 89:7). While it may have also taken a few of his Brownies to win them over, the sight of Bishop Quinine cavorting in a hot-tub full of Baileys Irish Cream with his new friends (by then clad only in their secret underwear) will have to go down in history as one of the great moments in ecumencialism.
Inspired by their accounts of late adolescent missionary service (I can’t believe that many people really open the door in the nude, but it’s charming to see that even wholesome lads like to dream), along with the admirable accounts of their founders’ fertile imagination and pragmatism (lots of fellows dream of being able to get it on with several people at once, but not many think of writing their own scriptures in order to make it happen) I have decided to make my own historic contribution to the sacred missionary calling to make the Bible available to condemned sinners everywhere.
Of course, unlike Joseph Smith I don’t think I could get away with making something up from scratch: whilst my fellow Conservatives don’t actually read the Bible very often, they would nevertheless be rather unimpressed to discover I’d slipped a few of my own epistles somewhere between first and second Timothy. Nor, since I’m not a member of the Jensen family living in Australia, could I get away with selling my own “fresh and accurate translation” which just happens to have any misleading suggestions that women are actually people carefully excised. Besides, the Jehovah’s witnesses probably only let +Sydney steal their shtick because they knew he's too broke to be worth suing, but it's not likely they pass up the chance to chase a Priest of my caliber and renown.
Consequently I’ve instead decided to undertake a more humble task of incomparable scholarship, and am proud to here present the first translation of the New Testament (along with the books of Leviticus and Judges) into Rongorongo. Sure there aren’t any speakers of Rongorongo left alive, but if and when any are found you can be absolutely certain the munificent fruits of my labor will bring them incomparable blessings and enlightenment.
Mind you, even though translating into an undeciphered hieroglyphic script means nobody can presume to question one’s grammatical accuracy, the work has not been without its own challenges. For example: Rongorongo appears to lack any logogram for homosexuality, and in this instance I was forced to substitute one of Brother Richthofen’s own devising which, I must admit, is indeed quite arousing. Nor does the script have a pictogram for “virtue” – a difficulty I resolved by creating a hieroglyphic representation of a nasty little slug attacking someone hundreds of times the man (and Christian) he’ll ever be.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
This, of course, has proven a great setback to my proposed publicity campaign, and things were getting quite bitter before Bishop Quinine eased the tension by convincing the rather bewildered representatives from Desert Saints Magazine that their church’s prohibition against alcohol only applies to drinking the stuff (“And, again, strong drinks are not for the belly, but for the washing of your bodies” Doctrine and Covenants 89:7). While it may have also taken a few of his Brownies to win them over, the sight of Bishop Quinine cavorting in a hot-tub full of Baileys Irish Cream with his new friends (by then clad only in their secret underwear) will have to go down in history as one of the great moments in ecumencialism.
Inspired by their accounts of late adolescent missionary service (I can’t believe that many people really open the door in the nude, but it’s charming to see that even wholesome lads like to dream), along with the admirable accounts of their founders’ fertile imagination and pragmatism (lots of fellows dream of being able to get it on with several people at once, but not many think of writing their own scriptures in order to make it happen) I have decided to make my own historic contribution to the sacred missionary calling to make the Bible available to condemned sinners everywhere.
Of course, unlike Joseph Smith I don’t think I could get away with making something up from scratch: whilst my fellow Conservatives don’t actually read the Bible very often, they would nevertheless be rather unimpressed to discover I’d slipped a few of my own epistles somewhere between first and second Timothy. Nor, since I’m not a member of the Jensen family living in Australia, could I get away with selling my own “fresh and accurate translation” which just happens to have any misleading suggestions that women are actually people carefully excised. Besides, the Jehovah’s witnesses probably only let +Sydney steal their shtick because they knew he's too broke to be worth suing, but it's not likely they pass up the chance to chase a Priest of my caliber and renown.
Consequently I’ve instead decided to undertake a more humble task of incomparable scholarship, and am proud to here present the first translation of the New Testament (along with the books of Leviticus and Judges) into Rongorongo. Sure there aren’t any speakers of Rongorongo left alive, but if and when any are found you can be absolutely certain the munificent fruits of my labor will bring them incomparable blessings and enlightenment.
Mind you, even though translating into an undeciphered hieroglyphic script means nobody can presume to question one’s grammatical accuracy, the work has not been without its own challenges. For example: Rongorongo appears to lack any logogram for homosexuality, and in this instance I was forced to substitute one of Brother Richthofen’s own devising which, I must admit, is indeed quite arousing. Nor does the script have a pictogram for “virtue” – a difficulty I resolved by creating a hieroglyphic representation of a nasty little slug attacking someone hundreds of times the man (and Christian) he’ll ever be.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Happy Thanksgiving 2010.
We weren’t going to celebrate Thanksgiving this year: for some time now I’ve been growing increasingly concerned at the appropriateness of participating in something so fundamentally unchristian . After, the Puritans didn’t have so much as one iota of respect for Pectoral Crosses, and I very much doubt if any of them ever swung a thurifer like they’re meant to be swung. Nor do I recall any of them staying at a five-star hotel while attending an important conference.
Besides, I’ve always felt there’s something intrinsically contradictory about the notion of a Puritan celebration: it’s sort of like a Baptist dance party, or a Walsingham Bible study (“This month we’ll be conducting an in-depth exploration of the references to Our Lady in St. Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians…”).
What’s more, as a Successful Conservative Biblical Christian I believe trivialities like family, friends, health and home should be seen as entitlements, not blessings. If God had wanted us to go around feeling pathetically grateful for things that don’t really matter He wouldn’t have placed deep within every person’s heart a righteous yearning for real treasure, like a house with a swimming pool, an enormous SUV, and clothes, hair and make-up as expensive as Sarah Palin’s.
Not, I must add, that Consuella approved of my decision to cancel Thanksgiving. Lately I’ve been trying to get her to share my interest in Complementarian Theology, and while initially quite supportive on account of her feeling I never say anything nice to anyone, she actually became quite critical when she realized that those wild and crazy guys at The Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood spell the word with an “e”, not an “i”, and all look like last time they cheerfully gave a compliment was when an admirer in the Department of Correctional Services slipped them tickets to witness an execution. In fact she was so dismissive of my clearly Scriptural boycott that she refused to listen to a word I said, and even ignored the fascinating message I tried sharing with her while I peeled potatoes and shelled peas.
Which was a pity, since it came from a young man who calls himself “The Blogging Parson” (despite not serving as a Parson at all, but rather in a choice position obviously obtained with absolutely no nepotistic assistance whatsoever), and I’m sure Consuella would agree with him if she could only bring herself to stop thinking like someone inspired by the Risen Christ. Although I must admit that his division of Complementarianism into two categories, “thick” and “thin”, is dreadfully simplistic: without even trying I can from the top of my head come up with at least three more: “misogynist”, “stupid”, and “phallically-challenged”.
In fact I was so inspired by his example that I was about to put my foot down and call an immediate halt to all the pagan preparations, when suddenly a strange voice appeared dues ex machina and ordered me to shut up and give thanks for all the wonderful things in my life – much as is about to happen now…
… and so as the mysterious voice behind the dreadful Reverend Troll I’m going to take this opportunity to say thank-you: for everyone who’s been angered by something they saw here I give thanks that one day the God of Love and Justice will release you from your prison of pomposity, fear, bigotry and hatred; and for everyone else whom has ever felt this blog bringing a smile to their face, I give thanks for your laughter and hope, for your strength and your survival.
I’m Father Christian, and God Bless you all!
Besides, I’ve always felt there’s something intrinsically contradictory about the notion of a Puritan celebration: it’s sort of like a Baptist dance party, or a Walsingham Bible study (“This month we’ll be conducting an in-depth exploration of the references to Our Lady in St. Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians…”).
What’s more, as a Successful Conservative Biblical Christian I believe trivialities like family, friends, health and home should be seen as entitlements, not blessings. If God had wanted us to go around feeling pathetically grateful for things that don’t really matter He wouldn’t have placed deep within every person’s heart a righteous yearning for real treasure, like a house with a swimming pool, an enormous SUV, and clothes, hair and make-up as expensive as Sarah Palin’s.
Not, I must add, that Consuella approved of my decision to cancel Thanksgiving. Lately I’ve been trying to get her to share my interest in Complementarian Theology, and while initially quite supportive on account of her feeling I never say anything nice to anyone, she actually became quite critical when she realized that those wild and crazy guys at The Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood spell the word with an “e”, not an “i”, and all look like last time they cheerfully gave a compliment was when an admirer in the Department of Correctional Services slipped them tickets to witness an execution. In fact she was so dismissive of my clearly Scriptural boycott that she refused to listen to a word I said, and even ignored the fascinating message I tried sharing with her while I peeled potatoes and shelled peas.
Which was a pity, since it came from a young man who calls himself “The Blogging Parson” (despite not serving as a Parson at all, but rather in a choice position obviously obtained with absolutely no nepotistic assistance whatsoever), and I’m sure Consuella would agree with him if she could only bring herself to stop thinking like someone inspired by the Risen Christ. Although I must admit that his division of Complementarianism into two categories, “thick” and “thin”, is dreadfully simplistic: without even trying I can from the top of my head come up with at least three more: “misogynist”, “stupid”, and “phallically-challenged”.
In fact I was so inspired by his example that I was about to put my foot down and call an immediate halt to all the pagan preparations, when suddenly a strange voice appeared dues ex machina and ordered me to shut up and give thanks for all the wonderful things in my life – much as is about to happen now…
… and so as the mysterious voice behind the dreadful Reverend Troll I’m going to take this opportunity to say thank-you: for everyone who’s been angered by something they saw here I give thanks that one day the God of Love and Justice will release you from your prison of pomposity, fear, bigotry and hatred; and for everyone else whom has ever felt this blog bringing a smile to their face, I give thanks for your laughter and hope, for your strength and your survival.
I’m Father Christian, and God Bless you all!
The Old Man and the See.
To my great astonishment, whilst I’ve been concentrating on my calling to be a more successful Christian author than Jackie Collins, Harold Robins and N.T. Wright combined, the Worldwide Anglican Communion hasn’t been standing still. Not that it's actually been going anywhere either, unless one considers the exercise of collective futility quaintly referred to by ++Rowan as “considering the Covenant” as of any significance – in which case you’ll probably also regard Bishop Quinine’s fetching new Alice B. Toklas outfit as the most important event in church history since a few fellows in pointy hats invited their friends with beards to a party in Chalcedon.
Mind you, some of the reports I’ve heard are positively ludicrous: take, for example, the rumor that the future head of the Church of England has just got engaged. How anyone could be fooled by such a tale simply staggers me! After all, everyone knows Archbishop Akinola is already married, and like St. Paul and Cardinal Newman (alright, maybe not exactly like John-Henry, but you know what I mean, and let’s not go upsetting any of our sensitive Forward-in-Faith friends) I am called to remain unmarried for the sake of the Gospel while maintaining a rigorously Biblical relationship with Consuella. So obviously the prospect of any future wedding is utterly ridiculous.
On the other hand, I regret to say that it is indeed true that the Diocese of Uruguay has voted to leave little Bishop Greg Venalballs and his Southern Cone. Nor are they doing so the proper Conservative way, and illegally taking all of someone else’s property and assets with them as they do so, since their Provincial Constitution permits them to leave if they wish to do so for some stupid reason such like the majority of the Church mistakenly believing those without penises are as capable of proclaiming the Grace of God as those who routinely urinate standing up.
Mind you, I did warn little Greg that no good would come from associating with foreigners. Certainly the way he’s managed to spend as little time as possible in his Province shows the boy’s attempted to pay at least some heed to my advice, but clearly the few locals he’s been unable to talk into joining churches more suitable for their type have begun to get foolish notions about the Spirit calling people with vaginas to minister the Sacraments within the Body of Christ. I mean really – next these false prophets will start claiming the first people to bear witness to our Resurrected Lord were women, and that Yahweh didn’t speak to Deborah the Prophet and Judge of Israel in English!
At which point I’ll have to leave you all for now. Given how Salman Rushdie’s sales went through the roof after he’d seriously offended Muslims I’m about to try a similar strategy, and a reporter from Desert Saints Magazine has just arrived for what he will very soon discover is the launch of my new book, “The Satanic Bicycles”. And if that doesn’t get a profiable fatwa declared then Bishop Quinine’s brownies definitely will.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Mind you, some of the reports I’ve heard are positively ludicrous: take, for example, the rumor that the future head of the Church of England has just got engaged. How anyone could be fooled by such a tale simply staggers me! After all, everyone knows Archbishop Akinola is already married, and like St. Paul and Cardinal Newman (alright, maybe not exactly like John-Henry, but you know what I mean, and let’s not go upsetting any of our sensitive Forward-in-Faith friends) I am called to remain unmarried for the sake of the Gospel while maintaining a rigorously Biblical relationship with Consuella. So obviously the prospect of any future wedding is utterly ridiculous.
On the other hand, I regret to say that it is indeed true that the Diocese of Uruguay has voted to leave little Bishop Greg Venalballs and his Southern Cone. Nor are they doing so the proper Conservative way, and illegally taking all of someone else’s property and assets with them as they do so, since their Provincial Constitution permits them to leave if they wish to do so for some stupid reason such like the majority of the Church mistakenly believing those without penises are as capable of proclaiming the Grace of God as those who routinely urinate standing up.
Mind you, I did warn little Greg that no good would come from associating with foreigners. Certainly the way he’s managed to spend as little time as possible in his Province shows the boy’s attempted to pay at least some heed to my advice, but clearly the few locals he’s been unable to talk into joining churches more suitable for their type have begun to get foolish notions about the Spirit calling people with vaginas to minister the Sacraments within the Body of Christ. I mean really – next these false prophets will start claiming the first people to bear witness to our Resurrected Lord were women, and that Yahweh didn’t speak to Deborah the Prophet and Judge of Israel in English!
At which point I’ll have to leave you all for now. Given how Salman Rushdie’s sales went through the roof after he’d seriously offended Muslims I’m about to try a similar strategy, and a reporter from Desert Saints Magazine has just arrived for what he will very soon discover is the launch of my new book, “The Satanic Bicycles”. And if that doesn’t get a profiable fatwa declared then Bishop Quinine’s brownies definitely will.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
The Pulitzer Prize & Me
To tell the truth, My Beloved Sinners, I have these past few weeks been seriously considering bringing this important ministry here to an end. After all, my informative and inspiring advertisers aren’t paying nearly as much as they use to, and you can bet your last starving Nigerian subsistence farmer big Pete Akinola and his boys didn’t get where they are today without keeping a tight leash on the bottom line. Just ask little Howard Ahmanson: if Jesus had wanted us to take His little jest about rich men and needle’s eyes literally He wouldn’t have devoted so much time to warning the disciples about the evils of Homosexualism.
Consequently I’ve been busy exploring the possibility of making some real money by writing a successful fantasy series targeting children and grown-ups who like stories without any positive female role-models. My first novel is now completed, and you’ll all agree it’s a truly unforgettable tale: it’s about a young wizard named Harry who, inspired by an older and extraordinarily good-looking Doctrinal Warrior, forswears sorcery and devotes his life to saving the world by bickering about the minutiae of Pauline exegesis and endlessly obsessing over other people’s gender and sexuality.
Strangely enough I initially found literary agents unwilling to respond to my invitations to consider the manuscript. Everything changed when, under the obvious guidance of the Spirit, I resubmitted it under a nom de plume: obviously my reputation as the Leading Conservative Biblical Scholar was too intimidating, and the name of “J.K. Rowling” - which I chose purely at random in a manner not dissimilar to that by which the Apostles appointed whatever-his-name-was to keep the chair warm for St. Paul – allowed my readers to relax and consider the work upon its deeply significant merits.
Sadly, however, the resultant flood of interest was halted by a wave of extremely uncharitable correspondence from a firm of singularly vicious attorneys representing some English woman of whom I’ve never heard, and in relation to whom I can’t stress strongly enough that any resemblance between her own moniker and my penname is purely accidental.
Even so, since their threat to take the shirt from my back wasn’t made in a warm-and-fuzzy Luke 6:29 kind of metaphoric sense, I have since felt called to return to my clerical vocation and scrap this particular project. Which will undoubtedly cause Sinners everywhere to rejoice; in fact it wouldn’t surprise me if someone even started a thread at Viagraville purely for the purpose of allowing the liberals frequenting that place to express their gratitude.
Mind you, I still haven’t entirely abandoned my calling to the Nobel prize for literature, and it wouldn’t be at all surprising if you all soon find me signing an impressive contract with Harlequin/Mills and Boon…
… pressing her trembling breasts into the strong and sensitive Man of God’s chest, Bellatrix Lestrange gasped as his strong and fearless arms drew her closer. “You’ve set me free, my darling. Tell me the conjurer with a face like a rattle snake won’t ever take me away from you. Promise me, I pray of you, that we’ll be together forever…”
“Hush my beloved”, comforted the steel-jawed Doctrinal Warrior as his firm and caring hands stroked her head, each caress drawing her further into the timeless wisdom of his embrace. “Nothing shall ever come between us; not now nor forevermore. I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.”
Consequently I’ve been busy exploring the possibility of making some real money by writing a successful fantasy series targeting children and grown-ups who like stories without any positive female role-models. My first novel is now completed, and you’ll all agree it’s a truly unforgettable tale: it’s about a young wizard named Harry who, inspired by an older and extraordinarily good-looking Doctrinal Warrior, forswears sorcery and devotes his life to saving the world by bickering about the minutiae of Pauline exegesis and endlessly obsessing over other people’s gender and sexuality.
Strangely enough I initially found literary agents unwilling to respond to my invitations to consider the manuscript. Everything changed when, under the obvious guidance of the Spirit, I resubmitted it under a nom de plume: obviously my reputation as the Leading Conservative Biblical Scholar was too intimidating, and the name of “J.K. Rowling” - which I chose purely at random in a manner not dissimilar to that by which the Apostles appointed whatever-his-name-was to keep the chair warm for St. Paul – allowed my readers to relax and consider the work upon its deeply significant merits.
Sadly, however, the resultant flood of interest was halted by a wave of extremely uncharitable correspondence from a firm of singularly vicious attorneys representing some English woman of whom I’ve never heard, and in relation to whom I can’t stress strongly enough that any resemblance between her own moniker and my penname is purely accidental.
Even so, since their threat to take the shirt from my back wasn’t made in a warm-and-fuzzy Luke 6:29 kind of metaphoric sense, I have since felt called to return to my clerical vocation and scrap this particular project. Which will undoubtedly cause Sinners everywhere to rejoice; in fact it wouldn’t surprise me if someone even started a thread at Viagraville purely for the purpose of allowing the liberals frequenting that place to express their gratitude.
Mind you, I still haven’t entirely abandoned my calling to the Nobel prize for literature, and it wouldn’t be at all surprising if you all soon find me signing an impressive contract with Harlequin/Mills and Boon…
… pressing her trembling breasts into the strong and sensitive Man of God’s chest, Bellatrix Lestrange gasped as his strong and fearless arms drew her closer. “You’ve set me free, my darling. Tell me the conjurer with a face like a rattle snake won’t ever take me away from you. Promise me, I pray of you, that we’ll be together forever…”
“Hush my beloved”, comforted the steel-jawed Doctrinal Warrior as his firm and caring hands stroked her head, each caress drawing her further into the timeless wisdom of his embrace. “Nothing shall ever come between us; not now nor forevermore. I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.”
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Christian Government
As anyone who’s ever studied the Bible as thoroughly as I have will know, Democracy is the only form of government approved by Jesus. Although it mustn’t be overlooked that the Bible also shows that a society dominated by anarchic warlords offers certain unique opportunities for anyone who happens to be a psychopathic misogynist easily upset by people who don’t listen (Judges 19:25-29); and you’ve only got to look at look at the fun King Herod had at his birthday party (Mark 6:21-28) to see how much fun a monarchy can be. And please don’t anybody mention King Solomon lest Consuella grows suspicious about my forthcoming “Campaign to Restore Biblical Marriage”.
So with the Bible presenting these powerful arguments for alternatives to the only Christian system of government, sinners such as yourselves could almost be forgiven (please note I said almost - don’t start getting any ideas now) for wondering how it is that scholars such as myself can be so certain of Jesus’ support for the sacred democratic principal of rule by elected Republicans committed to ensuring unwanted pregnancies run full term and grow up into men and women who die young through the blessings of accessible prisons and unaffordable health care. The answer is clear if one takes the time to study the Scriptures:
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
So with the Bible presenting these powerful arguments for alternatives to the only Christian system of government, sinners such as yourselves could almost be forgiven (please note I said almost - don’t start getting any ideas now) for wondering how it is that scholars such as myself can be so certain of Jesus’ support for the sacred democratic principal of rule by elected Republicans committed to ensuring unwanted pregnancies run full term and grow up into men and women who die young through the blessings of accessible prisons and unaffordable health care. The answer is clear if one takes the time to study the Scriptures:
- Jesus is never once recorded as voting. Proof he obviously lived in a western democracy.
- Jesus never encouraged those around him to get out and vote. He knew that power belongs to rich white men and whiney women with big hair.
- Jesus never advocated Congress be controlled by anyone other than the Republicans.
- Jesus acknowledged there’d always be poor people (Matthew 26:11), which shows he recognized the people who got the world into this current mess will back in charge asap.
- Jesus not only loved children, but He was also such a strong supporter of the death penalty that He experienced it Himself. So naturally He only advocates pro-life candidates who are firmly pro-death – a combination particularly prevalent in Christian democracies.
- Jesus never once said that the right of the big end of town to make as much money as possible is not more important than the right for little ones and their parents to medical care not based on blood-letting, cobwebs, and an occasional aspirin.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
The Lord giveth... and Lord Jensen loseth.
Beloved Sinners everywhere have undoubtedly been wondering when my new curate is finally due to arrive. The truth is that his Lord and Master, Archbishop Volder-Jensen, has needed the foolish boy’s services for longer than anticipated. First Dobby was needed to serve as spinmeister for his country’s national synod - a challenging role given that most other attendees wisely decided that attempting dialogue with the Jensenites is as productive as attempting to discuss the mathematics of unified field theory with the crazy panhandler down on the corner near the drugstore.
In addition to telling lies about his cult’s popularity with Australian Anglicans not terrified of girl/homo cooties, Dobby - whom has now been a Deacon for almost three years’ and consequently knows everything about ministry, theology, and Anglicanism - also had the important task of teaching Clergy with more than tenfold his experience about their ignorance and failure to grasp the essence of Anglicanism. Which, of course, involves lay presidency and believing everything a member of the Jensen family says.
This completed just one final task remains before my Dobby is bound for Ichabod Springs, but I fear it’s one of positively Herculean proportions: with Mordor now enjoying its own diocesan synod the truth-challenged lad has to convince the rest of the world that his master’s master-plan is succeeding.
At the time of my writing this he’s managed to get a whole three people to comment on his strategically edited version of the GAFCON faux-primate’s address - one of whom is himself – so he hasn't yet quite managed to convince the world that the future of Anglicanism involves men with dubious investment skills in polyester business suits showing power-point presentations explaining why the Trinity is proof women must be seen and not heard. Still, give Dobby time: people laughed when they first heard that Kim Jong-il is the best golfer in the world...
Sure wicked Australian journalists are publishing articles in which little Pete admits things are in an even bigger mess than we'd already suspected, but thankfully those of us in the rest of world who have the honor of being told we’re “sub-christian” by the Jensenistas can keep hearing how wonderfully the Family at the heart of the Global Schism’s Reformed Puritan Division are managing their own affairs. Although given the Achbishop of Mordor’s economic restraints readers will have supply their own Kool-Aid.
For me, I’ve been particularly inspired by Archbishop Jensen’s vision to re-energize “lazy and unproductive assets” (those of you with insomnia can listen to his talk here). Has the history of English literature ever witnessed a more musical way of describing the act of taking whatever you can grab to a pawn-broker and then sticking the lot on legs-eleven at the nearest roulette wheel? Pure poetry.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
In addition to telling lies about his cult’s popularity with Australian Anglicans not terrified of girl/homo cooties, Dobby - whom has now been a Deacon for almost three years’ and consequently knows everything about ministry, theology, and Anglicanism - also had the important task of teaching Clergy with more than tenfold his experience about their ignorance and failure to grasp the essence of Anglicanism. Which, of course, involves lay presidency and believing everything a member of the Jensen family says.
This completed just one final task remains before my Dobby is bound for Ichabod Springs, but I fear it’s one of positively Herculean proportions: with Mordor now enjoying its own diocesan synod the truth-challenged lad has to convince the rest of the world that his master’s master-plan is succeeding.
At the time of my writing this he’s managed to get a whole three people to comment on his strategically edited version of the GAFCON faux-primate’s address - one of whom is himself – so he hasn't yet quite managed to convince the world that the future of Anglicanism involves men with dubious investment skills in polyester business suits showing power-point presentations explaining why the Trinity is proof women must be seen and not heard. Still, give Dobby time: people laughed when they first heard that Kim Jong-il is the best golfer in the world...
Sure wicked Australian journalists are publishing articles in which little Pete admits things are in an even bigger mess than we'd already suspected, but thankfully those of us in the rest of world who have the honor of being told we’re “sub-christian” by the Jensenistas can keep hearing how wonderfully the Family at the heart of the Global Schism’s Reformed Puritan Division are managing their own affairs. Although given the Achbishop of Mordor’s economic restraints readers will have supply their own Kool-Aid.
For me, I’ve been particularly inspired by Archbishop Jensen’s vision to re-energize “lazy and unproductive assets” (those of you with insomnia can listen to his talk here). Has the history of English literature ever witnessed a more musical way of describing the act of taking whatever you can grab to a pawn-broker and then sticking the lot on legs-eleven at the nearest roulette wheel? Pure poetry.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Arise, Saint Newman!
These past few days have seen me inundated with requests for the definitive Conservative response with regard to the forthcoming Primates Meeting. Sure little Layman Anderson has been sharing his $0.02 with anyone really desperate for something to click on, but let's face it, opinionated schismatic bishops aren't exactly an endangered species. Maybe if ACNA could find an outspoken layperson to deliver the predictable rant - or even just a common-or-garden clergyman not currently preoccupied with claiming that pleading guilty doesn't really mean you did it - someone might be interested. Although, as we all know, Bobby Duncan's vision for the Prelacy of All Believers has been so successful that ACNA doesn't really have anyone left capable of stringing together a (reasonably) coherent sentence who isn't already wearing lovely purple vestments which could almost be mistaken for the real thing.
Consequently it once again falls on my righteous shoulders to say something about a forthcoming opportunity for the Communion’s leadership to fly somewhere interesting and politely bicker. Yet the truth is I’m currently far too busy, because by the miraculous Grace of God St. Onuphrius’ has become Ground Zero for the final step in the Blessed John Henry Newman's canonization.
That’s right, after prayerfully meditating upon an icon of the late Cardinal, Bishop Quinine has experienced a miracle so marvellous that the deliverance of some Boston Deacon from a life of spinal agony is simply nothing in comparison. Yet do you think any of the illegitimate rent-boys of Babylon in the Vatican have bothered to respond to any of our emails advising of this astonishing work of wonder? Not at all – I dare say the American Society of Hematology treats Jehovah’s Witnesses with more respect than we’ve received from these apostolic apostates. And it's not as if we've ever disturbed anyone's afternoon nap to leave pamphlets and insist Isaiah refused to let his kids have blood transfusions.
However it’ll take more a few 16th century schismatics in Rome to stop Me and My Ministry team testifying to a miracle. What’s more, given enough time and persistence on our part, I’ve no doubt the Vatican will repent of their lack of faith. Even though you can be certain that if the Pope had to pay what Viagra costs in our neck of the woods he’d be just as excited as Bishop Quinine was to discover the old Tractarian now has a dispensation to intervene in cases of Brewer’s Droop...
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Consequently it once again falls on my righteous shoulders to say something about a forthcoming opportunity for the Communion’s leadership to fly somewhere interesting and politely bicker. Yet the truth is I’m currently far too busy, because by the miraculous Grace of God St. Onuphrius’ has become Ground Zero for the final step in the Blessed John Henry Newman's canonization.
That’s right, after prayerfully meditating upon an icon of the late Cardinal, Bishop Quinine has experienced a miracle so marvellous that the deliverance of some Boston Deacon from a life of spinal agony is simply nothing in comparison. Yet do you think any of the illegitimate rent-boys of Babylon in the Vatican have bothered to respond to any of our emails advising of this astonishing work of wonder? Not at all – I dare say the American Society of Hematology treats Jehovah’s Witnesses with more respect than we’ve received from these apostolic apostates. And it's not as if we've ever disturbed anyone's afternoon nap to leave pamphlets and insist Isaiah refused to let his kids have blood transfusions.
However it’ll take more a few 16th century schismatics in Rome to stop Me and My Ministry team testifying to a miracle. What’s more, given enough time and persistence on our part, I’ve no doubt the Vatican will repent of their lack of faith. Even though you can be certain that if the Pope had to pay what Viagra costs in our neck of the woods he’d be just as excited as Bishop Quinine was to discover the old Tractarian now has a dispensation to intervene in cases of Brewer’s Droop...
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Pass the Parcel, Lambeth Style.
I’ve always said the wicked apostate liberal Archbishop of Canterbury is really a Conservative Biblical Christian. Sadly this is something many of my weaker brethren at places like Viagraville have failed to comprehend, despite my having frequently explained it in words of no more than one syllable, but little Rowan Williams has finally made the truth clear enough for even George Conger to understand. (Alright – maybe not that clear, since His Grace’s revelation wasn’t accompanied by smutty pictures, but my point stands.)
However finally, no doubt in response to my repeated urgings and advice, the Pointiest Hat in the Communion has run his flag up the pole, and not in the sense that happens in Peter Ould’s troublesome dreams either. That’s right: he’s displayed all the true attributes of a Conservative Leader, and when faced with an opportunity to give clear decisive guidance responded with cowardice and dishonesty.
Naturally I’m over the moon (and not in that sense either, Peter) with joy at His Cantaurness finally proving himself every bit as morally consistent as little Martyn Minns, whose faithful application of CANA canons concerning the ministry of confessed criminals serves as a role model for schismatics everywhere. Having said that gay bishops are "no problem" for him per se, our Lord in Lambeth then declined to explain why this absence of problems resulted in Dean John twice being blackballed (Peter! Stop It!!!).
But then, My Dearly Beloved Sinners, Rockin’ Rowan really showed us how to swing Conservative-style - anyone would've thought the man was a Republican facing questions about Iraqi weapons of mass destruction. When asked if he personally wished objections against those called by God to the office of Bishop actually becoming Bishops could be in some way overcome he delivered a timeless response, one showing exactly how bright the future really is for Clergymen of my own calibre and inclinations: “Pass.”
There's only problem, however. As an answer “Pass” generally results in one eventually being declared The Weakest Link.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
However finally, no doubt in response to my repeated urgings and advice, the Pointiest Hat in the Communion has run his flag up the pole, and not in the sense that happens in Peter Ould’s troublesome dreams either. That’s right: he’s displayed all the true attributes of a Conservative Leader, and when faced with an opportunity to give clear decisive guidance responded with cowardice and dishonesty.
Naturally I’m over the moon (and not in that sense either, Peter) with joy at His Cantaurness finally proving himself every bit as morally consistent as little Martyn Minns, whose faithful application of CANA canons concerning the ministry of confessed criminals serves as a role model for schismatics everywhere. Having said that gay bishops are "no problem" for him per se, our Lord in Lambeth then declined to explain why this absence of problems resulted in Dean John twice being blackballed (Peter! Stop It!!!).
But then, My Dearly Beloved Sinners, Rockin’ Rowan really showed us how to swing Conservative-style - anyone would've thought the man was a Republican facing questions about Iraqi weapons of mass destruction. When asked if he personally wished objections against those called by God to the office of Bishop actually becoming Bishops could be in some way overcome he delivered a timeless response, one showing exactly how bright the future really is for Clergymen of my own calibre and inclinations: “Pass.”
There's only problem, however. As an answer “Pass” generally results in one eventually being declared The Weakest Link.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Say it ain't so, Don.
Beloved Sinners around the world are wailing and gnashing their teeth in shock at the news that little Don Armstrong has finally entered a no-contest plea in response to the paltry 20 counts of felony theft he’s been facing. Even though everyone knows (because David Virtue told us, so it must be true) “a separate, independent audit of the parish books, commissioned by the breakaway parish itself, found Armstrong innocent of any wrongdoing”
As “John316” said at Viagraville back in August 2007: “This case cries out for justice from a civil authority.” Which we can now safely assume wasn’t quite the outcome our Donny was hoping for. Nor should we forget the sage advice offered by “Mari” in November 2008: “I believe when this is through, he should file suit based on defamation, false charges and harassment.” Now the attorney who runs that one will really be a cut above your average ambulance chaser. Perhaps here’s finally a challenge worthy of the great Allan “Perry Mason” Haley – better known to you and I as “the Anglican Curmudgeon”.
Still, you’ve got to admire the good folks of St. George’s of the Schism for doing their best to keep us all laughing at this sad, sad time. In a wonderful piece entitled “Parish Response to Father Armstrong’s Plea Agreement” (NB: little Donny's removed the original - undoubtedly for reasons of personal humility - so the link's been updated to Google's cached version. And when that goes I'll shift it again to my own saved version - you can't hide the truth that easily my schismatic friends) a faux-Nigerian called “Admin” (please tell me the author’s last name isn’t really “Armstrong” – not that I’ll believe you for a moment) delivers such gems as:
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
As “John316” said at Viagraville back in August 2007: “This case cries out for justice from a civil authority.” Which we can now safely assume wasn’t quite the outcome our Donny was hoping for. Nor should we forget the sage advice offered by “Mari” in November 2008: “I believe when this is through, he should file suit based on defamation, false charges and harassment.” Now the attorney who runs that one will really be a cut above your average ambulance chaser. Perhaps here’s finally a challenge worthy of the great Allan “Perry Mason” Haley – better known to you and I as “the Anglican Curmudgeon”.
Still, you’ve got to admire the good folks of St. George’s of the Schism for doing their best to keep us all laughing at this sad, sad time. In a wonderful piece entitled “Parish Response to Father Armstrong’s Plea Agreement” (NB: little Donny's removed the original - undoubtedly for reasons of personal humility - so the link's been updated to Google's cached version. And when that goes I'll shift it again to my own saved version - you can't hide the truth that easily my schismatic friends) a faux-Nigerian called “Admin” (please tell me the author’s last name isn’t really “Armstrong” – not that I’ll believe you for a moment) delivers such gems as:
“In preparation for the now canceled (sic) trial we have become convinced even more strongly that controversies within the larger denominational church were the catalyst for the Diocese’s investigation and complaint, for the purpose of silencing our bold and successful defense of orthodoxy through our parish’s life, discipline, and teaching ministry.”Although if a “bold and successful defense” involves losing all your property and assets, and pleading guilty in a last ditch attempt to avoid serving twenty-to-life, I’d hate to see what little Donny’s cultists call breaking even. And you’d better believe that right now you-know-who is feeling absolutely delighted to see his name dragged into their closing sentence: “We are thankful we can now move forward under our Bishop, the Rt. Rev. Martyn Minns, into a future productive for the Kingdom of God.” Just what little Martyn needs to further his already good name, I’m sure: a confessed criminal productively moving about underneath him…
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
+Arizona scares me.
Bishop Kirk Smith of Arizona is someone of whom I’ve always been wary, and not just because little David Virtue doesn’t like him. After all, little David Virtue doesn’t really like anybody, and how seriously can you take a blogger whose birth was accompanied by an EPA warning?
No, I am proud to say that my mistrust of the Prelate of Phoenix is based on far firmer ground than simply the whimsical opinions of a man whose greatest ministerial accomplishments have been a dubious doctorate and tax-exempt status. Rather it rests upon incontrovertible fact - namely that it’s impossibly for any Conservative Teacher of my caliber to not feel nervous around Bishops who don’t regularly threaten to abandon the organization to which they swore loyalty. Besides, in my estimation just because Bishop Smith's studied theology and has a pointy hat doesn’t mean anything when compared with the true prestige associated with knowing all about property theft.
Consequently I’ve got to admit to being surprised when learning earlier this week of Bishop Smith having organized a trip south of the border for not only himself, but for thirty-nine of his closest purple-clad colleagues. Having engaged in numerous such short-term missionary trips myself, and being personally experienced in the rich financial blessings accompanying these journeys if one is prepared to faithfully bring back a few suitcases for some fine men who just happen to conduct their business in parking-lots, the audacity of using not just one, but forty men of god to undertake such a transaction was breathtaking. Indeed, I even found myself feeling a twinge of jealousy at having been omitted from being part of such an awesomely profitable venture, and hurt that having clearly embraced my pioneering missionary strategies the Apostate Liberal Episcopal church was now denying me due credit – or at least a cut on the profits.
Clearly my hurt at this rejection was apparent, and at our morning Ministry Team Meeting. I was asked what was the matter. Bishop Quinine immediately brought some comfort by explaining the ministry trip included women, and since I’m fortunately not as desperate for numbers as little Jack Iker there would have been no way I could have compromised Biblical injunctions against sharing ministry with anyone not equipped with a penis and a prostate. Meanwhile Brother Richthofen and his friends from Seminary began laughing, and explained the startling news that Bishop Smith’s trip had nothing to do with smuggling anything.
Stunned as I was at this revelation, I was still not so devoid of my senses as to give voice to my next suspicion: as befits her important Biblical ministry of keeping me warm at night Consuella was seated at my right hand, and I didn’t feel like having my jaw broken in return for suggesting the Bishops were simply looking for cheap domestic staff. Nothing, however, could have prepared me for the truth – the Bishops had travelled to Mexico in order to understand something of the world of those who risk their lives to cross the border, and to remember those who had died in pursuit of better life for themselves and their loved ones.
Dearly Beloved Sinners! Of all that I’ve ever heard (and made-up) about Episcopalian Leaders this must surely take the cake! A Bishop showing compassion with the poor and insignificant of this world???!! Anyone would think they were trying to follow Jesus – and you’ve only got to look at the Gospels to see where that ended up: He may have been the Son of God but it’s certainly not as if His kind of carry on ever managed to get Him first-class seats and a lucrative speaking tour with Rick Warren, did it now?
No, the next thing we’ll see is +Arizona’s intelligent compassion translating into the crazy notion that foreigners have the same rights as Christians to share in the great American dream of freedom, opportunity, and prosperity. After which it’s only a matter of time before something really dangerous happens – like the Holy Spirit inspiring the Church to realize their are more important things than helping rich and powerful male heterosexuals worship a god made in their own image.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
No, I am proud to say that my mistrust of the Prelate of Phoenix is based on far firmer ground than simply the whimsical opinions of a man whose greatest ministerial accomplishments have been a dubious doctorate and tax-exempt status. Rather it rests upon incontrovertible fact - namely that it’s impossibly for any Conservative Teacher of my caliber to not feel nervous around Bishops who don’t regularly threaten to abandon the organization to which they swore loyalty. Besides, in my estimation just because Bishop Smith's studied theology and has a pointy hat doesn’t mean anything when compared with the true prestige associated with knowing all about property theft.
Consequently I’ve got to admit to being surprised when learning earlier this week of Bishop Smith having organized a trip south of the border for not only himself, but for thirty-nine of his closest purple-clad colleagues. Having engaged in numerous such short-term missionary trips myself, and being personally experienced in the rich financial blessings accompanying these journeys if one is prepared to faithfully bring back a few suitcases for some fine men who just happen to conduct their business in parking-lots, the audacity of using not just one, but forty men of god to undertake such a transaction was breathtaking. Indeed, I even found myself feeling a twinge of jealousy at having been omitted from being part of such an awesomely profitable venture, and hurt that having clearly embraced my pioneering missionary strategies the Apostate Liberal Episcopal church was now denying me due credit – or at least a cut on the profits.
Clearly my hurt at this rejection was apparent, and at our morning Ministry Team Meeting. I was asked what was the matter. Bishop Quinine immediately brought some comfort by explaining the ministry trip included women, and since I’m fortunately not as desperate for numbers as little Jack Iker there would have been no way I could have compromised Biblical injunctions against sharing ministry with anyone not equipped with a penis and a prostate. Meanwhile Brother Richthofen and his friends from Seminary began laughing, and explained the startling news that Bishop Smith’s trip had nothing to do with smuggling anything.
Stunned as I was at this revelation, I was still not so devoid of my senses as to give voice to my next suspicion: as befits her important Biblical ministry of keeping me warm at night Consuella was seated at my right hand, and I didn’t feel like having my jaw broken in return for suggesting the Bishops were simply looking for cheap domestic staff. Nothing, however, could have prepared me for the truth – the Bishops had travelled to Mexico in order to understand something of the world of those who risk their lives to cross the border, and to remember those who had died in pursuit of better life for themselves and their loved ones.
Dearly Beloved Sinners! Of all that I’ve ever heard (and made-up) about Episcopalian Leaders this must surely take the cake! A Bishop showing compassion with the poor and insignificant of this world???!! Anyone would think they were trying to follow Jesus – and you’ve only got to look at the Gospels to see where that ended up: He may have been the Son of God but it’s certainly not as if His kind of carry on ever managed to get Him first-class seats and a lucrative speaking tour with Rick Warren, did it now?
No, the next thing we’ll see is +Arizona’s intelligent compassion translating into the crazy notion that foreigners have the same rights as Christians to share in the great American dream of freedom, opportunity, and prosperity. After which it’s only a matter of time before something really dangerous happens – like the Holy Spirit inspiring the Church to realize their are more important things than helping rich and powerful male heterosexuals worship a god made in their own image.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
September 11, 2010 - No Show Today.
Nine years ago today almost 3,000 people died because 19 gullible young men were convinced God wished them to commit an act of unspeakable evil. Today we call these murderers “fundamentalists”, but that's probably according them a degree of systematic coherence they clearly lacked. In reality they were just another teardrop in the vast ocean of post-adolescent males who’ve been seduced by a dangerously stupid cocktail of testosterone and religious idealism. A cocktail which continues to be served unimpeded, and not just in socio-theological basket cases like Iran and Afghanistan.
Sure the after-effects are rarely so obvious: the self-righteous drinkers in Pittsburgh might not execute homosexuals as their counterparts do in Tehran, and those imbibing in the ACNA Diocese of San Joaquin might not allow their revolting misogyny to express itself as blatantly as their Taliban equivalents in Quetta (although I fear it’s only a matter of time before someone emails with news of the evangelicals of Sydney stoning women caught reading the bible aloud while clad “immodestly”), but talk to any of them privately, when their guard is down, and you’ll invariably reach the frightening conclusion that their deepest hope is it’s only a matter of time…
What’s also always the same, irrespective of the place, context, or theological rhetoric, is that those serving this nasty brew are invariably older men with little or no chance of losing that which they urge their gullible young followers to abandon for the sake of the cause/gospel/jihad/faith/whatever. Whether we’re talking about anti-social young men killing at bin Laden's sociopathic behest, or sexually insecure young men throwing away their (and their family’s) security and future in pursuit of the lie that is the Anglican schism, there’s always a group of older men urging them on in the background. Men who’ve already got their pension plans and health-care schemes sorted. Men who profess to know that God wants others to waste their lives, while resolutely holding on to their own – along with all the status and luxury they’ve accumulated along the way.
This is hardly a new phenomena: for every young Saul of Tarsus risking his life by stirring up sectarianism in the face of Caesar’s determination to enforce the Pax Romana, there was at least one older Pharisee looking on approvingly, secure in the knowledge that he’d remain safe even if his protégé did push things a little too far. And despite Christ's indisputable condemnation of those who would cause the young and naïve to stumble, the tragic pattern remains entrenched: for every immature nitwit posting bile at Stand Firm you can be certain there’s at least one senior cleric grateful he doesn’t have to get his own hands dirty throwing around the mud.
So while we pause today in remembrance of those killed in New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania, also spare a thought for those who have died in other places and times as result of this unholy exploitation. In abhorring the mindless absolutism of Islamic extremists, let’s not lose sight of the dangerous old men in our own midst. Ridicule them, laugh at them, and use whatever democratic processes you can find to prevent them silencing the voices of wisdom, faith, and inclusion. Ignore them, and flying planes into the side of buildings, or claiming that God hates individuals on the basis of their gender or sexuality (and the even more horrific death toll ensuing), is only the beginning.
Sure the after-effects are rarely so obvious: the self-righteous drinkers in Pittsburgh might not execute homosexuals as their counterparts do in Tehran, and those imbibing in the ACNA Diocese of San Joaquin might not allow their revolting misogyny to express itself as blatantly as their Taliban equivalents in Quetta (although I fear it’s only a matter of time before someone emails with news of the evangelicals of Sydney stoning women caught reading the bible aloud while clad “immodestly”), but talk to any of them privately, when their guard is down, and you’ll invariably reach the frightening conclusion that their deepest hope is it’s only a matter of time…
What’s also always the same, irrespective of the place, context, or theological rhetoric, is that those serving this nasty brew are invariably older men with little or no chance of losing that which they urge their gullible young followers to abandon for the sake of the cause/gospel/jihad/faith/whatever. Whether we’re talking about anti-social young men killing at bin Laden's sociopathic behest, or sexually insecure young men throwing away their (and their family’s) security and future in pursuit of the lie that is the Anglican schism, there’s always a group of older men urging them on in the background. Men who’ve already got their pension plans and health-care schemes sorted. Men who profess to know that God wants others to waste their lives, while resolutely holding on to their own – along with all the status and luxury they’ve accumulated along the way.
This is hardly a new phenomena: for every young Saul of Tarsus risking his life by stirring up sectarianism in the face of Caesar’s determination to enforce the Pax Romana, there was at least one older Pharisee looking on approvingly, secure in the knowledge that he’d remain safe even if his protégé did push things a little too far. And despite Christ's indisputable condemnation of those who would cause the young and naïve to stumble, the tragic pattern remains entrenched: for every immature nitwit posting bile at Stand Firm you can be certain there’s at least one senior cleric grateful he doesn’t have to get his own hands dirty throwing around the mud.
So while we pause today in remembrance of those killed in New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania, also spare a thought for those who have died in other places and times as result of this unholy exploitation. In abhorring the mindless absolutism of Islamic extremists, let’s not lose sight of the dangerous old men in our own midst. Ridicule them, laugh at them, and use whatever democratic processes you can find to prevent them silencing the voices of wisdom, faith, and inclusion. Ignore them, and flying planes into the side of buildings, or claiming that God hates individuals on the basis of their gender or sexuality (and the even more horrific death toll ensuing), is only the beginning.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Prayers for My Beloved New Zealand Sinners
News has just reached me of the earth moving in a strictly non-reproductive sense for my Beloved Sinners in Christchurch New Zealand. In the face of this emergency you may all be assured of my prayers for you, your loved ones, and, most important of all, your parish property and assets.
Still, it would be remiss of me in my duties as the World’s Leading Biblical Expositor to not remind you all that the Archbishop of Mordor (as well as his brother, and probably his wife, son, daughter, son-in-law, and innumerable house-elves) did warn you that no good would come from appointing a woman as your Bishop. That some of the most severe damage appears to have occurred in areas where Mordor has established “white-ant” congregations should be considered absolutely irrelevant.
And now, since for reasons I can only ascribe to some oversight on our infallible Lord’s part, you have been spared widespread death and injury, I now expect you to all get busy. Undoubtedly there are unsecured liquor stores and electronic retailers throughout your trembling town, and you’ll have to move quickly if you’re going to be able to send me that container of blessings which the Spirit has clearly told me you are to prepare.
Just remember, anyone caught looting is to insist they’re Baptist (or at very least Australian, which I’m told at your end of the world is viewed even more disparagingly), although I’ll be happy to provide a fictitious character reference at your trial in return for 1st class air tickets and 5-star accommodation. Let’s face it: you’ll get be getting more for your outlay than Bobby Duncan’s backers did for his recent African soirée.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Still, it would be remiss of me in my duties as the World’s Leading Biblical Expositor to not remind you all that the Archbishop of Mordor (as well as his brother, and probably his wife, son, daughter, son-in-law, and innumerable house-elves) did warn you that no good would come from appointing a woman as your Bishop. That some of the most severe damage appears to have occurred in areas where Mordor has established “white-ant” congregations should be considered absolutely irrelevant.
And now, since for reasons I can only ascribe to some oversight on our infallible Lord’s part, you have been spared widespread death and injury, I now expect you to all get busy. Undoubtedly there are unsecured liquor stores and electronic retailers throughout your trembling town, and you’ll have to move quickly if you’re going to be able to send me that container of blessings which the Spirit has clearly told me you are to prepare.
Just remember, anyone caught looting is to insist they’re Baptist (or at very least Australian, which I’m told at your end of the world is viewed even more disparagingly), although I’ll be happy to provide a fictitious character reference at your trial in return for 1st class air tickets and 5-star accommodation. Let’s face it: you’ll get be getting more for your outlay than Bobby Duncan’s backers did for his recent African soirée.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Voices from the Anglican Future.
Every Christian knows Nigeria is a land of peace, prosperity, and probity – even if the subject “Corruption in Nigera” does rate its own Wikipedia entry. That’s why Big Pete Akinola was so generously given real estate and a Mercedes Benz when he retired, and why God has cursed the faithless west with stable government and the rule of law, while blessing Biblical Spirituality’s heartland with blackouts and genital mutilation.
Even though little Archbishop Orombi and his fellow Ugandanthugs Ministers with Machetes have been doing their best to prove there’s no shortage of powerful and dangerous psychotics left in the nation who brought us the Last King of Scotland, an article in The Sun (Nigeria’s “Voice of the Nation”) shows there’s no need for Martyn Minns to re-realign just yet.
Read it for yourselves, My Beloved Sinners, but be warned: the “article’ is entitled “If your child is gay?”, and if you’re inclined to suffer from a weak stomach it’d probably be better if you just Googled “dismembered corpse porn” and clicked “View images”. Because you’d better believe me when I say it ain’t pretty.
Let's start with Funmi, whose advice to parents commences with “Beating alone cannot solve the problem. ” Or how about Lynda, who sees homosexuality as “a sign of the endtime”; so i guess we should assume Alexander the Great and Leonardo da Vinci were just a case of God getting some early rehearsals for the Parousia. Lynda's caring and reasoned approach – perhaps inspired by the same gift of spiritual discernment that has brought her country to the forefront of the relentless war against child witches - serves as a lesson to mothers everywhere: “The child should be committed to God Almighty for total deliverance, because he’s no doubt possessed with the evil spirit. ”
Meanwhile Joseph gives a fatherly perspective: “I have been hearing of gays, and I regard them as beasts and nothing more.” On a roll, he also continues with an eschatological motif: “It’s one of the signs of the end time. If my child is homosexual, which I know cannot be, I would not mind that he should be disciplined publicly. This would definitely change one or two things in him. After this, we can think of the way out.” If nothing else you’ve got to admire little Joe’s optimism: others of his intellectual capacity would have realized long ago that thinking per se isn’t their strong point. But then again, that kind of self-awareness never helped anyone get a purple shirt in the world of Conservative Global Anglicanism.
I'm Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Even though little Archbishop Orombi and his fellow Ugandan
Read it for yourselves, My Beloved Sinners, but be warned: the “article’ is entitled “If your child is gay?”, and if you’re inclined to suffer from a weak stomach it’d probably be better if you just Googled “dismembered corpse porn” and clicked “View images”. Because you’d better believe me when I say it ain’t pretty.
Let's start with Funmi, whose advice to parents commences with “Beating alone cannot solve the problem. ” Or how about Lynda, who sees homosexuality as “a sign of the endtime”; so i guess we should assume Alexander the Great and Leonardo da Vinci were just a case of God getting some early rehearsals for the Parousia. Lynda's caring and reasoned approach – perhaps inspired by the same gift of spiritual discernment that has brought her country to the forefront of the relentless war against child witches - serves as a lesson to mothers everywhere: “The child should be committed to God Almighty for total deliverance, because he’s no doubt possessed with the evil spirit. ”
Meanwhile Joseph gives a fatherly perspective: “I have been hearing of gays, and I regard them as beasts and nothing more.” On a roll, he also continues with an eschatological motif: “It’s one of the signs of the end time. If my child is homosexual, which I know cannot be, I would not mind that he should be disciplined publicly. This would definitely change one or two things in him. After this, we can think of the way out.” If nothing else you’ve got to admire little Joe’s optimism: others of his intellectual capacity would have realized long ago that thinking per se isn’t their strong point. But then again, that kind of self-awareness never helped anyone get a purple shirt in the world of Conservative Global Anglicanism.
I'm Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Friday, August 27, 2010
F-Stop Blues.
They say a picture paints a thousand words, but in Archbishop Williams’ case the sweet little snap taken as a memento of his recent Ugandan junket is more like an entire novel. Albeit one by Harold Robbins lying in the bargain-basket of a very seedy second-hand book-store.
After all, he is the great grand pooh-bah of all things Anglican, and as such I can well understand him feeling an obligation to visit all his flock – including those members of the Communion who are the equivalent of that uncle in your own family who served time for indecently exposure, and who can never get it into his head that nobody is listening admiringly when he boasts about having been inducted into the Klan. Still, just as a little discretion goes a long way when purchasing the latest copy of Hustler, having one’s picture taken with someone who’s famous for insulting the good folk who pay a great many of one’s bills is just plain foolish.
Nor can it be argued that His Cantaurness was unaware little Bobby Duncan was sitting just five warm prelate posteriors away; another keepsake doing the rounds shows the pair making the kind of eye-contact usually accompanied by fireworks and Tijuana horns on Love American Style. Which is all well and good from little Bobby’s perspective; as a Conservative Schismatic it’s his job to fly around the world attending talk-fests. A man in his position can’t be expected to work at cleaning up his own back yard – not when it’s so much easier to fly business class and complain about others laboring in their own corner of God’s great garden, and being photographed that close to the Man With The Beard is the pseudo-Anglican kudos-seekers’ equivalent to passive-smoking: the smell isn’t the only thing that’s going to drift in your direction.
Yet a whirlwind blows smoke more ways than just one, and from where most Episcopalians sit it certainly looks like Bobby Duncan wasn’t the only one inhaling. Just as it took me some serious talking to calm everyone down after I was caught by the paparazzi with three jelly-wrestlers and the owner of Europe’s most prestigious flea circus, ++Rowan’s going to have to work awfully hard if he wants the people who bailed out his credit card after Lambeth to forget about this one. And so far the “sheepish silence” routine doesn’t look like getting an ovation from anyone not currently meeting in a rented Seventh Day Adventist hall and trying to pay off the costs incurred in a failed property dispute…
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
After all, he is the great grand pooh-bah of all things Anglican, and as such I can well understand him feeling an obligation to visit all his flock – including those members of the Communion who are the equivalent of that uncle in your own family who served time for indecently exposure, and who can never get it into his head that nobody is listening admiringly when he boasts about having been inducted into the Klan. Still, just as a little discretion goes a long way when purchasing the latest copy of Hustler, having one’s picture taken with someone who’s famous for insulting the good folk who pay a great many of one’s bills is just plain foolish.
Nor can it be argued that His Cantaurness was unaware little Bobby Duncan was sitting just five warm prelate posteriors away; another keepsake doing the rounds shows the pair making the kind of eye-contact usually accompanied by fireworks and Tijuana horns on Love American Style. Which is all well and good from little Bobby’s perspective; as a Conservative Schismatic it’s his job to fly around the world attending talk-fests. A man in his position can’t be expected to work at cleaning up his own back yard – not when it’s so much easier to fly business class and complain about others laboring in their own corner of God’s great garden, and being photographed that close to the Man With The Beard is the pseudo-Anglican kudos-seekers’ equivalent to passive-smoking: the smell isn’t the only thing that’s going to drift in your direction.
Yet a whirlwind blows smoke more ways than just one, and from where most Episcopalians sit it certainly looks like Bobby Duncan wasn’t the only one inhaling. Just as it took me some serious talking to calm everyone down after I was caught by the paparazzi with three jelly-wrestlers and the owner of Europe’s most prestigious flea circus, ++Rowan’s going to have to work awfully hard if he wants the people who bailed out his credit card after Lambeth to forget about this one. And so far the “sheepish silence” routine doesn’t look like getting an ovation from anyone not currently meeting in a rented Seventh Day Adventist hall and trying to pay off the costs incurred in a failed property dispute…
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Retraction and Apology Re: David Ould
On Monday, August 16, 2010 the owner of this blog posted a supposedly satirical piece claiming that the Rev. David Ould, a deacon of the Anglican Diocese of Sydney Australia, was transferring to the fictitious parish of St. Onuphrius’ Ichabod Springs.
Accompanying was photograph purporting to be a likeness of Rev. Ould. This picture was in fact not of the Rev. Ould, but had been taken from a web site featuring images of dangerous criminals charged and convicted of serious felonies, including (but not limited to) causing grievous bodily harm and aggravated sexual offenses against minors.
This notwithstanding, the author and owner of http://gafcon.blogspot.com acknowledges that individual depicted in that photograph suffered deep humiliation as a result of being erroneously depicted as the Rev. Ould and/or as an apologist for one of the most hateful expressions of institutionalized fundamentalism to have ever emerged within the Anglican Communion.
The author responsible unreservedly apologizes to the young man whose image was used, and wishes it to be made absolutely clear that whatever else he may have done, he is not, and never has been, a clergyman in the diocese popularly known as “Mordor”. Nor has he ever acted with absolute disregard for almost two hundred million dollars of his church’s assets; attempted to prevent the transparent disclosure of the same; sought to meddle in the affairs of other churches while hiding the rampant corruption and nepotism in his own; persistently condoned the usage of what would, were it not hiding beneath a cloak of religion, be considered hate-speech (and thus illegal) against other persons on the basis of their gender and/or sexuality. Neither has he ever actively sought to exchange the truth of God for a pharisaic lie.
Besides which, he doesn’t even look as funny as Dobby.
Accompanying was photograph purporting to be a likeness of Rev. Ould. This picture was in fact not of the Rev. Ould, but had been taken from a web site featuring images of dangerous criminals charged and convicted of serious felonies, including (but not limited to) causing grievous bodily harm and aggravated sexual offenses against minors.
This notwithstanding, the author and owner of http://gafcon.blogspot.com acknowledges that individual depicted in that photograph suffered deep humiliation as a result of being erroneously depicted as the Rev. Ould and/or as an apologist for one of the most hateful expressions of institutionalized fundamentalism to have ever emerged within the Anglican Communion.
The author responsible unreservedly apologizes to the young man whose image was used, and wishes it to be made absolutely clear that whatever else he may have done, he is not, and never has been, a clergyman in the diocese popularly known as “Mordor”. Nor has he ever acted with absolute disregard for almost two hundred million dollars of his church’s assets; attempted to prevent the transparent disclosure of the same; sought to meddle in the affairs of other churches while hiding the rampant corruption and nepotism in his own; persistently condoned the usage of what would, were it not hiding beneath a cloak of religion, be considered hate-speech (and thus illegal) against other persons on the basis of their gender and/or sexuality. Neither has he ever actively sought to exchange the truth of God for a pharisaic lie.
Besides which, he doesn’t even look as funny as Dobby.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Lessons Matt Kennedy Learned When Attempting Theft - #14
“14. If you do not have an email list including all of your parishioners, establish one and use it at least weekly to send parish news and updates. The updates should include a small section or a paragraph about the lawsuit--letting people know of any new developments--but the overwhelming bulk of the update should be taken up with parish news. A weekly line of communication will be vital in maintaining a sense of community continuity and cohesion should you lose your property.”This way your people will also get used to relying on your side of the story for news of the mess you’ve got them into, and are less likely to seek more objective reports.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Lessons Matt Kennedy Learned When Attempting Theft - #13
“13. Make friends with the religion reporter or whoever your local paper assigns to follow the story. Always answer the phone. Always call back. Always have something to say both on the record and off. Always speak well of your opponents. Never say “no comment”. Never refuse to answer your phone. Never let them hear you whine, complain or attack the diocese. Let the diocesan press stooge play the role of the offended, entitled, bitter, angry, and intolerant authority figure. And trust me, he/she will. .”As Bishop Clumber already wisely advised back in the comments to Point 2, only let the world see the real you on “... a website where everyone is basically whining, complaining and attacking the church which gave you the authority to be a pastor! That way it will be lost among the noise.”
Everywhere else you should be as genuine and sincere as a lap-dancer working a room full of Shriners.
Monday, August 16, 2010
My New Curate Announced!
Due to all the important work I’ve been doing in the course of minding everyone else’s business things here at St. Onuphrius’ have been a little neglected as of late, and so it’s taken a little longer than I’d anticipated to choose Evangelical Eric ‘s successor.
Needless to say competition for the position was fierce, although nowhere nearly as fierce as the most promising applicants. Indeed, my initial choice was the gentleman at left, whom by his appearance I naturally took to be a Nigerian Archdeacon. Unfortunately subsequent research revealed he's actually only a lifer in Illinois looking for penpals – unlike Conservative Clergy, whose ignorant bigotries are responsible for the deaths of thousands (if not millions), this elegantly coiffured gentleman has only killed one person, rendering him entirely unsuited for GAFCON ministry.
Consequently I’m delighted to announce little Peter Jensen has accepted my generous offer of shares in Enron and Lehman Brothers in return for his house-elf Deacon Dobby Ould (c’mon – it’s not the worst investment Archbishop Jensen has made during his tenure).
Pictured at right, Dobby has a documented history of lying about his fellow Christians (I’ve been sent hard-copy proof David, so don’t bother with any threats about contacting your attorney), as well as of pretending to be someone of a different theological persuasion and gender in order to make his ridiculous comments appear more credible (ditto, my boy) – in short the cheeky little house-elf has exactly the skills a Conservative parish needs.
I am expecting Dobby to arrive by post (the only mode of travel the Diocese of Sydney can now afford for anyone whose last name isn’t “Jensen”) any day now. In the meantime I’m now accepting offerings towards Evangelical Eric’s Going-Away Fund, the proceeds of which will be used to buy me a lovely new SUV in which I shall generously arrange to have my departing Curate’s pitiful sack of belongings conveyed to the airport.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Needless to say competition for the position was fierce, although nowhere nearly as fierce as the most promising applicants. Indeed, my initial choice was the gentleman at left, whom by his appearance I naturally took to be a Nigerian Archdeacon. Unfortunately subsequent research revealed he's actually only a lifer in Illinois looking for penpals – unlike Conservative Clergy, whose ignorant bigotries are responsible for the deaths of thousands (if not millions), this elegantly coiffured gentleman has only killed one person, rendering him entirely unsuited for GAFCON ministry.Consequently I’m delighted to announce little Peter Jensen has accepted my generous offer of shares in Enron and Lehman Brothers in return for his house-elf Deacon Dobby Ould (c’mon – it’s not the worst investment Archbishop Jensen has made during his tenure).
Pictured at right, Dobby has a documented history of lying about his fellow Christians (I’ve been sent hard-copy proof David, so don’t bother with any threats about contacting your attorney), as well as of pretending to be someone of a different theological persuasion and gender in order to make his ridiculous comments appear more credible (ditto, my boy) – in short the cheeky little house-elf has exactly the skills a Conservative parish needs.I am expecting Dobby to arrive by post (the only mode of travel the Diocese of Sydney can now afford for anyone whose last name isn’t “Jensen”) any day now. In the meantime I’m now accepting offerings towards Evangelical Eric’s Going-Away Fund, the proceeds of which will be used to buy me a lovely new SUV in which I shall generously arrange to have my departing Curate’s pitiful sack of belongings conveyed to the airport.
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Lessons Matt Kennedy Learned When Attempting Theft - #12
“12. Blogging also inevitably opens the door for much needed spiritual and material support from sympathetic readers locally and around the world. Let your congregation know about any kind of support you receive. You will be surprised at the boost in morale such news produces.”What’s more the internet is full of suckers who’d just love to throw a few hard-earneds into the bottomless pit of your self-induced sob story. However there’s no point of becoming a martyr if you’re not surrounded by weeping admirers, so make certain to delete and ban any commenter not displaying the requisite morale-boosting sycophancy.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Something every Christian Minister needs...
It’s not only all of you, My Beloved sinners, who have been learning so much from little Matt Kennedy’s important lessons: even a World Famous Christian such as myself has been blessed with fresh insight into the crucial Conservative task of treating one’s parishioners with as little respect as possible.
His points to have most inspired me are those concerning the vital role of spycraft in Orthodox Ministry (see tips nine and ten), and with these in mind I’ve been spending even more time than usual in preparation for this month’s Vestry meeting. Consequently it was while on a trip to my local discount variety store in search of such latest accoutrements of Biblical Ministry as invisible ink, microdots, and an ultrasonic nausea device that’s less bulky than the Ould twins or David Virtue, that I couldn’t resist purchasing the following:
Unfortunately I still haven't quite worked out how to make it induce the promised convulsions: Bishop Quinine asserts he heard it speaking intelligibly when nobody else was in the room, but since he's been known to make the same claim of Kendall Harmon there's no point taking him seriously. Perhaps if I tie somebody into a chair and make them stare at the blades whirling around and around for hours on end...
... which you've got to admit would be not unlike listening to any of ++Rowan William's more recent pronouncements.
I'm Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
His points to have most inspired me are those concerning the vital role of spycraft in Orthodox Ministry (see tips nine and ten), and with these in mind I’ve been spending even more time than usual in preparation for this month’s Vestry meeting. Consequently it was while on a trip to my local discount variety store in search of such latest accoutrements of Biblical Ministry as invisible ink, microdots, and an ultrasonic nausea device that’s less bulky than the Ould twins or David Virtue, that I couldn’t resist purchasing the following:
Unfortunately I still haven't quite worked out how to make it induce the promised convulsions: Bishop Quinine asserts he heard it speaking intelligibly when nobody else was in the room, but since he's been known to make the same claim of Kendall Harmon there's no point taking him seriously. Perhaps if I tie somebody into a chair and make them stare at the blades whirling around and around for hours on end...... which you've got to admit would be not unlike listening to any of ++Rowan William's more recent pronouncements.
I'm Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Lessons Matt Kennedy Learned When Attempting Theft - #11
I know our Boy in Binghamton probably jumped the shark at #10, but there's still an ocean of wisdom in the remaining lessons. Or if not an ocean, then a least a puddle of sufficient size to irritate a few fellow conservatives clearly jealous of the success this series has been enjoying...
“11. If you are a blogger or writer and your lawyer lets you, keep blogging and writing. This will expose the diocesan actions to the light of public scrutiny. Be sure to pass everything you publish through your attorney beforehand.”Remember that it’s not as if you’re paying the attorney’s bills with your own money. Besides, any lawyer grubby enough to have encouraged you to proceed with an unwinnable case will love you for also giving them a chance to “work the file” by racking up even higher earnings in the course of following instructions to peruse your blog dribbles for potential libel, perjury, or contempt.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Not even I could have made this one up (Matt Kennedy #10).
“10. If you suspect a diocesan spy on your vestry, say nothing you do not want the diocese to know. Be nice. Make no accusations. Do some careful investigating. If the evidence shows your suspicions to be correct, decide whether it is best to expose him/her publicly or turn the situation to your advantage. Spies can be very helpful if given the right kind of information. If you choose to expose the spy, be sure you have the evidence nailed down. Say nothing until you do. .”Mmmmmmmm.
Double Mmmmmmmm.
It’s probably also better you don’t say anything about your persistent (and strangely exciting) urge to wear a secret-counter-agent Mata Hari costume.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Lessons Matt Kennedy Learned When Attempting Theft - #9
(We’re reaching my favorites now, Beloved Sinners!)
“9. Be careful for spies in your congregation. If you have a parishioner who is angry and disgruntled and yet for some inexplicable reason continues to attend services and meetings--especially if said parishioner suddenly stops complaining--beware. Do not say anything in public that you do not want the diocese to know.”After all: the idea that someone might wish to remain a part of the spiritual community they joined long before you came on the scene is ludicrous. As is the idea that anyone has a right to think differently to the way they've been told to. You are the church, so if they don’t agree with you they’ve no business staying. And wearing a little hat made of tinfoil will stop those evil Episcopalian mind-scanners from reading your inner-most thoughts - especially those bothersome ones which suggest you’re growing paranoid.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Lessons Matt Kennedy Learned When Attempting Theft - #8
“8. Should you have a “spirit filled” person on the vestry who argues that strategic planning for various eventualities, including defeat, is faithless; that Christians should trust God and expect and plan only for victory, do not listen. You will be very sorry if you do. Trust God to provide everything that you need every step of the way and recognize that his grace often operates in and through the careful deliberation and planning of the leaders he has appointed.”As every schismatic should know by now, if God’s track record in these church property theft cases is anything to go by you’re better off trusting someone more sympathetic to your own interests. Like yourself.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Lessons Matt Kennedy Learned When Attempting Theft - #7
“7. Tell your people that any bequests or memorials or donated items (if given to the church or bought by the church with money parishioners have given) will, if you lose, belong to the diocese.”Read point six. Again. Then get back to work convincing your parishioners that the diocese wants their money to drown kittens and force puppies with big eyes to engage in immoral activities. And don’t forget to keep haranguing them to give their donations directly to you. Do I also need to repeat the bit about “in cash”?
Lessons Matt Kennedy Learned When Attempting Theft - #6
“6. Tell your people that every check written today will, if you lose, end up in diocesan coffers tomorrow. They need to know this so that they will be able to make free and informed choices with their money.”That’s because a loss means the Court will make the outrageous ruling that anything donated to the Episcopal Church actually belongs to the Episcopal Church. Instead of permitting your parishioners to continue faithfully supporting that part of the Body of Christ into which they have come, pressure them to start giving their offerings directly to a privately controlled “fighting fund”. Or even better, make them just give it all directly to you. In cash.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Lessons Matt Kennedy Learned When Attempting Theft - #5
“5. When/if a suit is filed, tell your people early and often that the lawsuit may very well end in defeat. Your task is to prepare everyone mentally, spiritually, and practically to lose all of the assets and the church buildings.”After leading your congregation into a quagmire of smelly brown stuff be certain to distance yourself from the fight. That way you can put all the blame on someone else when things turn nasty.
Lessons Matt Kennedy Learned When Attempting Theft - #4
“4. Retain an attorney familiar with church property disputes now...today. Even if your negotiations end amicably, you will need an attorney to help you work out the details of any agreement. And if the diocese turns to litigation, you will not need to rush about looking for a lawyer. You can focus all of your energy on leading.”This way you’ll have also locked your community’s finest legal minds into your side of the fight before it starts, forcing your opponents to make-do with second best. What’s more it ensures that even if things do end amicably you can still enjoy wasting your parishioners’ money by paying high-priced experts to undertake simple procedural tasks.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Lessons Matt Kennedy Learned When Attempting Theft - #3
“3. Never offer information about your financial stability, assets, or property.”
Transparency is a fine theory for Christians foolish enough to be concerned with storing up treasure in the next world, but if you’re interested in grabbing some decent assets in this one you should play your hand as closely as possible. That way if you lose there’s still a chance of holding on to a few morsels the other side couldn’t find.
Lessons Matt Kennedy Learned When Attempting Theft - #2
“2. Avoid meeting with the bishop or any diocesan representative(s) alone.”Escalate matters quickly by refusing to meet with anyone or discuss anything one-to-one. This will also help you to cease thinking of the other party as a real person, whom like you has also devoted their life to serving in a Church they love.
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