Friday, December 27, 2013

Stanley Ngtali - GAFCON Priorities in the Pulpit.

Since the day New Hampshire realized how good Bishop Gene looks in purple I’ve been telling people over and over again that the current rifts within Anglican Communion have nothing to do with homosexualism. Indeed, anyone prepared to look at the things exactly as I tell them to can plainly see for themselves that personal insecurities about dearly held patriarchal understandings of sexuality, power and what happens to excite clergymen’s wieners when they think nobody’s watching play absolutely no part whatsoever in the choice of Conservative Bible-Believers such as Myself to inconsistently interpret a few Scriptures literally.

Which is why my heart rejoiced when, while perusing Uganda’s Daily Monitor, I saw that the recently-passed Ugandan anti-gay legislation took a primary place in Kampala’s Christmas sermons. Christmas is, after all, a time when preaching must above all else focus on The Bible. While I can concede there might be a time for nonBiblical issues like human rights and social justice to be mentioned from pulpits in passing (generally in the context of pointing out all the stupid things liberals consider important), that time is not, and never has been, when more pressing issues are at hand – like the crucial gospel priority for all those present who are not normally part of one’s congregation to understand how much the Baby Jesus hates them for not having attended faithfully throughout the preceding year.

Once again Anglicans still canonically resident in the godless west should hang their heads in shame before those to whom Our Church’s future has been
soldentrusted. Pause in awe, My Beloved Sinners, before this published excerpt of Ugandan Archbishop little Stanley Ntgali’s Christmas homily:
“In Uganda, there are so many injustices like child sacrifice, domestic violence, drug abuse which are now a big issue in our schools... I want to thank Parliament for passing the Anti-homosexuality Bill. I want the world to understand what we are saying.”
The world - at least that to which Jesus referred when using the expression we translate as “world” - understands you perfectly, little Stanley. If children, women, and school students, are suffering why shouldn’t wealthy and powerful men like you celebrate the Savior's birth by giving thanks that yet another minority group has joined them in their persecution? It's those for whom the Incarnate God means something more than a just means by which to control others that find you incomprehensible.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Thursday, December 26, 2013

ACNA - Now Bigger than Rome!

Just to show We have absolutely no hard feelings towards the godless baptists who alerted the Dept. of Homeland Security to our Mission to Afghan/Iraqi Farmers in Need of Quality Superphosphates, the St. Onuphrius’ Ministry Team have followed Christmas Day with a wonderful concert outside their front lawn. I played a moving rendition of “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” on the alpenhorn, which was followed by Bishop Quinine on his flesh-colored clarinet – an instrument he rarely plays but polishes on a daily basis. As I write this Brother Richtofen and His Friends from Seminary have just begun playing a nine-hour set of Mariachi/Techno/Death-Metal especially mixed to show our heretic neighbours how much we love them, and how we’ve forgiven them even though Our Loving Father in Heaven has fore-ordained them to an eternity of indescribable agony.

Even so, as much as I love young-people’s music when wearing industrial-strength hearing protection, it felt appropriate for Me to discern the spirit’s call to leave the celebrations prior to any further visits by the National Guard, and begin the challenging task of catching up on all the astonishing events which occurred during my absence. Undoubtedly one of the most amazing was young Pope Benny Ratsfinger announcing his resignation on account of “advancing years”.

Now you can call me old fashioned, but I’ve always said a man’s only as old as the person he’s feeling. And given Benny’s got Romans around the world positively aching to kiss his ring things simply don’t make sense. Especially when you consider His Popishness has a collection of man-lace big enough to keep that obsessive nut from Rhode Island who still leaves comments on everyone’s blogs fascinated for life.

No; you don’t have to be Alex Jones to recognize a conspiracy when it hits you in the chasuble. My Personal Belief is Benny was embarrassed at the way his franchise has been overtaken in global importance by little Bobby Duncan’s sect. Granted it’s been a while since I saw any actual figures {has anyone?), but who can forget all the hoopla a few years back, so by now they’ve obviously delivered on all the predictions of success made back then. Besides, it’s not as if the Apostate Heretics in the Vatican have their own online store (featuring not just one but two!!! different styles of lapel pin - Traditional and Contemporary), so obviously I'm right.

Besides, there can be no denying that The Archbishop of Canterbury’s meeting with Bobby earlier this year is tantamount to full recognition, which means there’s no longer anything dishonest about claiming ACNA claiming status as an Anglican Province. Although I do have to admit that by this logic Rome became an Anglican province way back in 1966, when Ramsay++ dropped by Paul VI’s house for donuts and a quick game of “I won’t mention Cranmer if you don’t mention Campion.” At which point you’ll have to excuse me: I’ve just received an email from someone born in Beijing, which means I’ve got to update our parish roll to include all 1.351 billion citizens of China.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

God's Christmas Gift to You: ME!

Wicked as you are, My Beloved Sinners, the federal order preventing Me and anyone associated with My Ministry from accessing the internet has been lifted in what is undoubtedly the Most Wonderful Christmas Blessing of all time.

Indeed, at this time of year, when the Curse of Rampant Liberalism is stripping this most sacred of seasons of all Christian greeting-card manufacturers call holy, and an Army of Politically-Correct Apostates fight to prevent Bible-Believers from celebrating the birth of the baby Jesus by pressing each other up against the Xerox machine for a round of tonsil-hockey at the office Christmas party, this miracle proves that a wise and wily Clergyman can still redeem the darkest of situations.

Before we go any further, however, let it be categorically clear that there was absolutely no substance to the criminal charges alleged allegations which lead to this appalling persecution of the Gospel. Indeed, those of you not sufficiently filled with the holy spirit to believe everything I say without question may even have problems comprehending the extent to which such pernicious apostate liberal conspiracies exist in a nation where rich people can convince the poor that it’s in their interest to preserve medical insurance corporation profits at the expense of their own health. Yet, as anyone who’s ever skimmed the “Favorites” file on little David Ould’s browser can tell you, the Evil rampant in the hearts and minds of seemingly normal-albeit-rather-ugly apostate enemies of Biblical Christianity knows no bounds.

Mind you, the whole situation escalated so quickly that even a Christian as wisely perceptive as Me was hard-pressed keeping up with things. When the Rectory was first locked down I was still far away in Merrie Olde England, consoling My Grief at the passing of dear St. Baroness Thatcher by ministering to a couple of most enterprising young Christians whom I met in a small theatre in Soho. (Who could have possibly guessed that the fall of immoral Communism would result in the relocation of so many creative liturgical dancers to London?) I had just delivered My moving eulogy at Saint Maggie’s funeral, in which I focused not so much upon how much her personal family values accomplished for communities in the north of the country, where she is undoubtedly loved and missed most, as I did on the bold manner in which she squandered the Britain’s North Sea oil wealth in pursuit of an ideological obsession. After which I reminisced about her close personal friendship with the equally lamented young people’s entertainer Jimmy Saville, as well as her tireless work on behalf of the Eastern European cancer industry.

So you can well imagine My amazement at finding upon My return to Ichabod Springs that the innovative and profitable Ministry I’d established just prior to leaving had fallen foul of a Godless piece of legislation called “The Patriot Act” - obviously something introduced by Obama and is cabal of Israel-loving Muslims. Who could have ever believed that something as innocent as a Biblically-sound initiative transhipping superphosphates to tribesmen in Afghanistan and Iraq (at a charitable 150% mark-up) would one day be considered treason? Here we were, helping ignorant heathens develop chemically-driven agriculture in the fervent prayer that one day their children would be able to enjoy the same tasteless tomatoes as we do, when suddenly the Perverted Atheists who control Washington were accusing us of supporting the manufacture of explosives in so-called-nations opposed to everything Jesus stood for – such lower taxes and an end to welfare for single mothers.

Unfortunately My protestations that the people we were assisting weren’t enemies at all (on account of them also not liking women in leadership or homosexualists) weren’t helped by Bishop Quinine explaining that this particular Parish Ministry had absolutely nothing to do with trade in armaments and explosives, which are handled by an entirely different Mission registered in the Seychelles and operating out of Lichtenstein. In fact for a while things were looking quite dark indeed for the light on the hill which is St. Onuphrius’.

But it takes more than the world's greatest superpower to keep this Doctrinal Warrior from Proclaiming the gospel, and during the course of a friendly interrogation session the senior investigator let slip the fact that he was himself the child of a Manse, and had some experience of the ways in which a Parish operates. At which point I realized he’d believe me implicitly if I blamed everything on My miserable excuse for a Curate, Evangelical Eric.

Sure enough, My plan worked! The investigator really had been raised the son of a Rector, for he fully understood the truth of My explanation that whatever goes wrong in a Church – be it, big, small, or cataclysmic and involving nipple clamps and the entire Altar Guild – IT’S ALWAYS THE CURATE’S FAULT!!!

And so, after Evangelical Eric obediently confirmed his guilt while being independently water-boarded by officers serving one of The Land of the Free’s dearest allies in the War on Terror, the St. Onuphrius’ Ministry Team are once more able to browse the intertubes in a faithful commitment to expose the evil lurking in men’s loins. Which is, I know you will all appreciate, the Greatest Christmas Present the World has ever received. Except, perhaps, for some small insignificant event a couple of thousand years ago involving a manger and a baby of dubious legitimacy. Whom I and the Conservatives who imitate Me promise to keep doing Our best to help everyone forget about.

I'm Father Christian and I teach the Bible.