It was a quarter to three in the morning, and although most of the effects of Bishop Quinine’s new herbal tea had worn off, I was still unable to sleep. Unwilling to succumb to the temptation to once again visit the weird side of YouTube (videos of abscess drainage and impacted ear-wax removal have their charms, but even a man of my relentless curiosity has limits), I decided to instead drop by Facebook and see what’s been happening in the lives of My Beloved Sinners around this disgraceful and wicked planet.
No sooner had Mr. Gates’ dear old browser loaded the familiar white-on-blue “f” than my wise and saintly eyes were confronted caught by a couple of notifications concerning developments in Mordor. Having already decided to pass on YouTube’s less palatable delicacies, I was quite naturally unsure if my constitution was up to the latest news from the Diocese that time (not to mention the Holy Spirit, compassion, grace, and legislation against inbreeding) forgot. Yet like what may have once happened to me when watching those clips an interesting New Delhi medico posts of himself extracting blackheads (Google it if you must disbelieve me, but not even I can bring myself to include a link*), once I’d started clicking it was impossible to turn back.
That’s because, Beloved Evildoers, having converted every Antipodean man, woman, child, and marsupial, not to mention having rewarded every last relative capable of saying the word “Bible” with lucrative employment at his parishioners’ expense, little Archbishop Jensen has now turned his attention to correcting the mistakes made by Cranmer and whoever else was responsible for the foundations of today’s Anglican wedding liturgy (St. Paul? Jesus? Bobby Duncan?). Whereas our foolish forbears neglected to emphasis strongly enough that a Biblical Christian man’s most precious belonging is his wife, marriage Jensen-style will from now on put an end to the confusion by requiring the person-without-a-penis to solemnly vow that they will henceforth submit to their god-given owner.
Not, of course, that this is anyway to be taken as giving licence for the man to abuse or otherwise disrespect his treasured new chattel. Quite the contrary, as little Peter Jensen subsequently made clear in a piece so profound in its logic that I know of three used-car sales managers and a mid-level Amway marketer all now clamouring for him address training seminars on the subject of “Intellectual Honesty: Overrated or just Unnecessary”, the real burden of responsibility created by this exciting liturgical innovation falls upon the man. That’s because, according to the Bishop of Biblical Discernment who just happened to lose $160 million of his faithfuls’ hard-earned, along with the authority, power, and right to make the final call with regards to what’s for dinner and on T.V. afforded by the wife’s promise to submit comes the obligation for the husband to sacrifice himself for her in the same way that Jesus sacrificed Himself for the church.
Forget liberal notions of two people being drawn together to share the vagaries of life as one: this is indeed a bold call for young Anglican Conservatives to enter into a binding agreement in which one party clearly has the upper hand, whilst the other must dutifully assume whatever position is required of them. As such it clearly mirrors the sacred values enshrined in any Florida time-share contract, or something Everhome/Fannie Mae try getting away with. And please let’s not have any nonsense about marriage being a rewarding and mutually empowering relationship: the definitive marital role model for today’s husband must involve indescribable agony, during the course of which he should feel compelled call out “My God, my God – Why have you forsaken me?” (The woman, on the other hand, should remain silent. Later, when they’re in private – and preferably when there are no sticks or sharp objects nearby – she can submissively ask her husband to explain what was distressing him. Who is in turn perfectly free to let her wait until the next world for an answer.)
Honestly: if the godless Episcopalian and Church of England leaders would only display this kind of witness then they too might be able to boast of evangelism campaigns that brought a reduction in congregation sizes whilst simultaneously lining the pockets of a company owned by members of the Archbishop’s family. They too might reap the rewards of seeing the Gospel be made a byword for oppression and misogyny. And they too might experience what it feels like to know Christians around the world are shaking their heads and saying “Next time I think I’ll stick with weird side of YouTube.”
I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.
*On second thoughts, a marvellous piece on this sub-continental Marcus Welby’s site entitled “8 reasons why you should stop masturbation” is just too good not share. And please don’t be misled by the fact that his domain name is wacky5.com - as he explains elsewhere on this veritable goldmine of information (anyone else ever felt an urge to learn how to practice basic suturing techniques?), wacky actually stands for Welfare Association of Clinicians and Keen Youths. Which I’m sure we’d have all guessed had we just thought about it for long enough.)