People less Theologically Learned than myself (a group which, let’s face it, comprises pretty much everyone) frequently write and wonder why I devote so much of my inestimably valuable attention to little Peter Jensen and his “Anglican” Diocese of Mordor. “How is it,” they ask as their eyes grow moist with bewildered admiration, “that a Doctrinal Warrior at the very heart of the International Anglican Schism should be called to bother himself with a few financially dubious nepotists who not only make the Phelps clan look genetically diverse, but who also reside on that part of the earth's topography which is undeniably analogous to its nether regions ?”
It’s a valid question, even if I do usually respond by humiliating (in love, of course) the person asking it. After all: it’s not as if there’s anything that special about the way the GAFCON General Secretary runs his fiefdom. At least there isn’t when viewed in the context of such bastions of Christian freedom as North Korea or Burma. And just because the Archbishop of Sydney took his See to the brink of bankruptcy while simultaneously requiring parishes purchase pamphlets by the carton load from a privately-owned publishing company doesn’t mean he’s any more corrupt than, for example, little Don Armstrong. Even if this did result in that company enjoying financial blessings of a magnitude more commonly associated with striking oil, or importing white powder from Columbia. Besides, I’m sure the fact that members of Peter Jensen’s family just happen to be significant shareholders in that same company is of absolutely no relevance.
Nor are the Jensen regime’s house-elves really any more spectacularly sycophantic than those of other sects. Or at least not those sects that don’t consider sarin a sacrament and demand members wax lyrical about “the supreme sacrifice”. Certainly we can all name a certain serial liar (don’t bother clicking it: visitors from this site are blocked, but that doesn’t stop Google-bots indexing my link under “serial liar”, and words can’t describe how happy that makes Deacon David Ould) for whom the judges invariably hold up a “10” when scoring his latest missive for oleaginousness, but that’s nothing any regular at Viagraville can’t also achieve given a few moments alone with a picture of their quintessentially masculine heroes. (Incidentally Dobby, please don’t ever forget truth is a defense at law under both my jurisdiction and yours, and you’ve opened your desperately ambitious little mouth more than frequently enough to give my attorney an inappropriate bulge in his Armani trousers every time he dreams about the day you start screaming “libel”.)
No, the true reason I keep such a careful eye on the realm which has put more words into the mouths of African Prelates than Martyn Minns is because there is simply no other institution on earth with so many leaders capable of making Michele Bachmann look intelligent. Indeed, finding just one such individual of such usefully meager caliber is extremely difficult, yet recently I’ve been following a truly fine blog by one of My Beloved Sinners who is able to uncover from amongst the Chosen Ones of Mordor a new and delightfully stupid bigot on what is almost a daily basis! That’s right – a fresh (Lord, give me strength to resist spelling that as “Phresh”!) Pharisee every morning! Not even Bobby Duncan can manage that, and he’s giving away free mitres as an incentive!
And amidst this plethora of Conservative Christian calumny one of My Beloved Sinner’s links has set a standard which Believers elsewhere in the Glorious Schism can only hope to equal. It’s a piece which is actually a few years old, and I’m really not sure how I missed it. Nor is it succinct enough to quote here – suffice it to say that in a meandering stream of really nasty innuendo it manages to claim that the Lambeth boycott was entirely justified on account of the Church being in ruins because thirty years ago Americans ordained women.
Yes, he is serious. As he is when claiming that in Nigeria and Uganda the Christian Church “looks the same as when it was first built or even better.”
No, I’m not making that up.
Really I’m not.
Look; just read it for yourselves, ok?
In fact I doubt even I could have made up the stuff there if I’d tried, and I’m Father Christian.