Last minute presents.

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.

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 their purchasers 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.