Those of you who can remember a time when everyone's biggest fear was Reagan should also be able to recall an NBC program by the name of Hill Street Blues. Set in a fictional inner-city police precinct, it was strangely enjoyable despite featuring an array of foreigners who avoided gratuitous violence and consistently declined to shoot persons of color for no valid reason. And each episode of the first 3½ seasons opened with an address from veteran cop Sgt. Phil Esterhaus (Michael Conrad) which ended like this:
And so why, My Beloved Sinners, am I sharing this with you? Let's put it this way: whilst I love our President-Elect-For-Life as much as everyone else (albeit a little differently, and with less desperation, than whichever Ukrainian aspiring super-model he happens to be "interviewing" this week) there's no denying a lot of my new best friends and colleagues at the trough are - how shall I put it? - a little unstable. In fact a lot of them are batshit crazy, and they're nazis. And they have a strange compensatory fixation upon firearms.
Which is all fine and dandy, I can hear you say: it's not as if you encounter anything different every time you visit your local Walmart or monster-truck competition. But this time there's a difference - they're now about to start giving orders to the police. And the military. And the Department of Homeland security. And all those strange-looking nervous types you see in movies cracking computer codes and hacking emails. Not of course that any high-level email servers have ever been breached for personal and/or political profit in real life - but you never know.
Consequently My Wise old Pastoral Heart can't help sharing a little advice with you, My precious young and foolish flock. After all, I didn't make millions selling Siberian wastelands I didn't own to dear little Joe Stalin back in the late 20s in order that he might build gulags by being careless. And when I convinced jittery young Adolf to purchase a Berlin bunker in which "no harm will ever be able to come to you here, mein Führer" you'd better believe I was watching every step. Success in ministry involves caution in ministry - just ask any Rector who has led public prayers for the immediate & painful passing of that person on their Parish Council.
That's why if you look closely you may well find my homilies and Facebook edification Facebook edification being posted via servers in places as diverse as the Netherlands, Corfu, or the Chatham Islands. Because in times like these a little preventative caution can go a long way if and when a knock on the door should mistakenly come in the night. Call me overly-dramatic if you wish, but when Papa Doc's Tonton Macoute called by the Haitian resort at which I was ministering in '64 it wasn't my tanning butter that was spilled. In fact the machetes never touched so much as a parasol in any of my complimentary drinks. But that's because I was careful.
My advice, dear sinners, is for you to do likewise. Just because you're going to spend an eternity in Hell is hardly reason enough to let someone with an imported Taser and a "Buy American or Leave!" bumper sticker give you a foretaste now. Just sayin'.
I'm Father Christian and I teach the Bible.