Sympathy for the Brewer.

“If you can’t say something nice about a person don’t say anything at all.” That’s what my dear mother told the magistrate just prior to her final sentencing, and I’ve never forgotten the power of her words, although sadly they fell on liberal atheist ears and she received 25 years to life. Even though I was just a small child at the time, and until then had no comprehension of the way unbelievers have so little respect for important church-leadership principles like extortion, I knew that my mother’s teaching would serve as a faithful guide for the rest of my life.

Which is why I always enjoy discussing J. Mark Brewer. Try as I might it’s impossible for me to find something unpleasant to say about him, since it’s clear that despite the difficulties which have forced Mark to seek bankruptcy for his St Stephen the Great Charitable Trust he’s still managing to ensure charity begins at home.

For all the details of Mark Brewer’s brilliance it’s probably best to read things for yourself here, Certainly, there's not many people who can manage to squeeze $111,092.36 for themselves (in return for “legal services rendered”) out of a business that’s going nowhere, as well as paying a further $75,338.07 to their own charity.

Of course this doesn’t take into account any of the anguish which I’m sure Mark is feeling over the $494,097.55 he claims is still owed to his deserving foundation, nor the outstanding balance of £56,000 owed to Mark’s law firm. Yet despite this terrible injustice Mark hasn’t uttered so much a single cry of pain, but has instead simply asked (out of modest humility, I’m certain) that people don’t discuss his suffering. (Alright, so he didn’t so much “ask” as “demand” – but how can anyone criticize a man who’s given so much, and has yet to receive so much more?). In the light of all this the complaints by those who have yet to receive their wages and benefits should be seen in an entirely new perspective, as I’ve no doubt Mark himself would be the first to say.

No; were she still with us I’ve no doubt my late mother would love and admire Mark Brewer as much as I do, and be appalled at the way people continue to shine a spotlight on his financial affairs. Just because a charity running a chain of Christian book shops in the UK managed in under 12 months to accumulate a debt to a US-based private grant making foundation in excess $800,000 is no reason to accuse the chain’s owner of incompetency. Especially not when the US foundation is registered to that owner’s address, and his own name is listed as an alternative name under which the nonprofit organization does business.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Really Realigning - Delusions Fort Worth Style

Today’s disgruntled Anglican shows just how wonderfully far we’ve progressed. When Newman folded his chasuble and left Canterbury all those years ago he didn’t take with him so much as a few vegetables from the vicarage garden, when the very least he could have done was to first drain the parish discretionary fund.

Yet if only dear John Henry could have had few of Fort Worth’s finest to guide him the village of Littlemore wouldn’t have had a single piece of silverware left untouched by the time the biggest realignment since Saul of Tarsus realised he’d never get to write Scripture by remaining a Pharisee was finished. In a stunning example of what a few years under little Jack Iker can inspire a man to achieve, four of his clergy have approached the local Roman diocese for help with persuading the Vatican that what it really needs is a few more churches in Texas.

That’s right - churches. Not just clergy, but the whole package, since Iker’s boys have decided that if they’re going to go to all the trouble of finding a new province, why restrict their options to Anglicanism? Especially when the only places offering to accept them are hardly in parts of the world familiar with good old Fort Worth Episcopalian values: what on earth will happen (as it will) when somebody’s Primate decides that their unemployed brother-in-law in Lagos deserves a green card – and just happens to be the perfect appointment for that plum parish? Rome might not be famous for its sensitivity, but that’s one mistake they know not to make.

In a wonderful understatement, Iker’s brains trust concede: “it will take time to bring the laity on board with this proposal." Not as long as it’ll take to convince the courts that Episcopalian property can swim the Tiber as easily as a few deluded clergy. Nor as long as it’ll take Rome to decide they really need to dive into this particular basket of rattle-snakes. Still, if they can get away with this one I fully intend to realign with a limited company that just so happens to be entirely owned by myself, transferring all parish property into my name as part of the deal.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

By their musical fruits shall ye know them...

As this is a teaching blog, I do not normally bother with such distractions as pictures of music. There'll be plenty of time for that sort of thing in Hell for those who've set their hearts on going there.

This sensitive piece is so powerful, however, that there is no alternative but to break my usual rule. It's called "The Anglican Blog Song" and it's by a young man whom for obvious reasons prefers to be known by a pseudonym: "anglicanbeachguy". Musically he's the epitome of GAFCON theology, and lyrically every bit as inspired as those bloggers in whose honor he has crafted and dedicated this timeless tribute.

Just be careful to not play it more than once. Not only might nearby dogs start howling, but I'm uncertain if it's legal to play the harmonica that way, and it'd be terrible for our troubadour to experience any trouble from the relevant authorities.

I'm Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Talking about God's work...

“I hear they're just busy doing God's work. They don't talk about sex every day.”

Of all the alarming things I’ve heard said about the Anglicans of New Hampshire, this one has probably made me most distressed. Uttered by Bishop Adams of Central New York in an interview with syracuse.com, it epitomizes the appalling depths to with the church has sunk, and the pitiful lack of biblical awareness among those professing to be our leaders.

Call me old fashioned, but how anyone can claim to pastor the flock without displaying a prurient interest in their sex life is simply beyond me. Just look at my “gathered brethren” links in the sidebar to the left – do any of them ever go a day without talking about sex? More’s the point, how can someone possibly be “busy doing God’s work” if they’re not spending at least half their waking hours obsessively discussing what others do with their genitalia. And what on earth is there to talk about instead? Does Bishop Adams honestly expect little Kendall Harmon could churn it out day in, day out, without talking about sex? Doesn’t he realise that without at least one daily stab at someone's sexuality David Virtue’s place would nothing more than a few Bible verses and a whole lot of grumbling?

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Bishop can you spare a dime?

Well, well, well. The Archbishop of Canterbury has found his party went a bit over budget, and his guests have left him £1 million short of the catering bill.

Now I told Rowan to check everyone’s mini-bar before they skipped town, and if it had been one of my staff who allowed the lads to put their “special” room-service massages on the tab they’d be finding their organs going to the highest bidder in a Beijing hospital, mark my words. But do you think he’d listen? And now it looks like he’s going to be forced to shimmy up the funds by touring the U.S. before the repo man comes for his mitre and stole.

Yet fortunately my dear Consuella has quite a bit of experience when it comes to shaking up a few dollars by touring, and with her contacts I’ve no doubt she’ll be able to secure him bookings at some of best paying clubs in the country. There’s a few details she’ll need from His Grace first – such as whether he prefers to dance the pole or concentrate on floor work, and if he’d rather be paid a flat rate plus tips per show, or receive a commission plus share of bar takings, but once we get a reply on that you can be sure he’ll have bookings coming out of his eyebrows. Although on the other hand, we may first have to do something about them as well…

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Lawrence of South Carolina Holds On

You don’t become the World’s Greatest Bible Teacher without hearing just about everything there is a Bishop can say, but a kind, wise and God-fearing member of our internet community has alerted me to the startling latest pronouncement from Lawrence of South Carolina. Here it is in full, since I’ve got to admit that even a Teacher of my experience has problems understanding what the poor man is talking about:

Canterbury, England

I am glad I came here for this Lambeth and worshipped one last time in the Cathedral home of Augustine and Dunstan, Anselm and Becket, Cranmer and Laud, Temple and Ramsay. I had come to speak a word of hope and perhaps to intervene on behalf of our beloved, but in the last resolve the family refused the long needed measures. So he just slipped away, our noble prince, one dreary morning in Canterbury with hardly even a death rattle.

The new prince was born last month in Jerusalem. I was there—arriving late, departing early. I was never quite sure what I was witnessing. It was an awkward and messy birth. He hardly struck me as I gazed upon him there in the bassinet as quite ready to be heir to the throne. I even wondered at times if there might be some illegitimacy to his bloodlines. But that I fear was my over wedded ness to a white and European world. May he live long, and may his tribe increase—and may he remember with mercy all those who merely mildly neglected his birth.

As for me my role for now is clear, to hold together as much as I can for as long as I can that when he comes to his rightful place on St. Augustine’s throne in Canterbury Cathedral he will have a faithful and richly textured kingdom.

So bewildering is this that I even took the rare step of asking my staff for help. Brother Richthofen thought it had something to do with using too much lube (whatever that means), as he says he can relate to noble princes slipping away from him, while Bishop Quinine believes the Rt. Revd. Lawrence might have found some interesting mushrooms growing in the fields around Lambeth. This upset Evangelical Eric, who prefers to deny Bishop Quinine’s vast knowledge of psychotropic substances, but as I keep telling the lad - nobody can come up with the kind of delusions afflicting GAFCON bishops without some kind of inspiration.

Whatever the explanation, in my opinion there’s nothing serious to worry about. His Grace’s vow to “hold together as much as I can for as long as I can” is a normal sentiment for most Bishops, and shows he’s still able to comprehend the most important feature of his office; namely that having managed to land a position of relative authority contrary to all expectations of anyone who’s ever known him, the most important thing is to now hang on with everything he’s got.

My only concern is his talk of “wedded ness”. The man hasn’t taken time out to visit any Lochs in Scotland, has he? And if he did, please tell me he has entered into some sort of inter-special marriage with any cryptozoic life forms he found there. The last thing anyone needs is another Bishop married to a monster.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

Let The Games Begin!

Despite their being Godless Commies, there’s a great deal to admire about the Chinese government. Any regime which persecutes minorities and imprisons critics can’t be all bad, and is closer to the spirit of GAFCON than one might first realise. Combined with the balanced politics of the International Olympic Committee, whose past president Juan Antonio Samaranch was a loyal Spanish Fascist (how can anyone not love a man who insists on being addressed as “Your Excellency”?), and which is currently led by someone who understands the importance of breaking promises about censorship, and the Beijing Olympics promise to set a marvellous example for young people the world over.

I particularly like the way Beijing has set a new standard for the time-honoured Olympic tradition of using pomp, ceremony and fireworks to distract people from petty issues like human rights, and provided some of the western world’s largest companies with a marvellous opportunity to exploit a people who up until now only had the privilege of being exploited by their own leaders.

What’s more, it’s often overlooked that the Olympics are of tremendous importance to pharmaceutical researchers the world over. Where would the modern horse-racing industry be were it not for the amazing developments made by East-German sports-scientists during the 1960s and 70s?

Cleverest of all, however, is the way the Olympics take sport away from the realm of something people do for fun and recreation, and elevate it to a matter of national pride surpassing trifles such as eliminating corruption, making quality health-care freely available to everyone, and ensuring children everywhere receive the finest education possible. In so doing the Olympic Movement keeps alive the ancient tradition of “Bread and Circuses”, bringing us all a step closer to the glorious days of ancient Rome when Our Lord Himself walked the earth. If only we had men of their vision running Lambeth.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.