“Creative ferment” stirred by a bitter punitiveness toward those who dared criticize the direction the church has taken. The PB’s perception of reality continues, as always, to be distorted.
Does anyone else long for the simpler days of “pluriform truth” from Frank Griswold? These sermons are getting more and more bizarre. This is a truly lost woman, and needs our prayers.
From “Veritas” (Truth) to “viriditas” (green-ness).
That pretty well sums up the evolution of the Episcopal Church, which started with the principled legacy of Thomas Cranmer and has now ended up with the fecundity of Mother Earth as its guiding light.
Those of us old enough to have spent any amount of time watching Sci-Fi movies from the 1950s have seen all this before. The HoB has been taken over by Pod People from the planet Viridia (it would explain a lot). Even the minds of the most moderate (let’s be real, there are no longer any conservative or traditionalist) bishop in TEC has been infected with mold.
The change in tactics (huge carbon dioxide expenditure in travel, plus the exhaust of gases in all these so-called sermons) is designed to cause the greenhouse effect so long anticipated, and leave an atmosphere in which the Pod People can thrive.
#2- The problem is the lack of funds at 815. As we have all noted over the last few years, starting about 2008, KJS staff started writing all her domestic sermons for her, so she would end up reading stuff that was overtly liberal, but had the occasional biblical reference or used some bit of traditional terminology.
But whenever she goes oversees, say Ecuador or Taiwan, they can’t afford to send the entourage of ghostwriters, so she jots down her own homilies on the back of an envelop, or whatever, and we get bits of fantasy fiction like this one, that come across like something out of a novel from the 70s, where the author takes a couple of druidic legends and adapts them so that instead of worshiping a huge oak tree in a grove, they worship the largest clump of sea kelp that washes up on the shore each year.
I think the mold is getting to me, too- I never used to write run on sentences like that.
“Creative ferment” stirred by a bitter punitiveness toward those who dared criticize the direction the church has taken. The PB’s perception of reality continues, as always, to be distorted.
Does anyone else long for the simpler days of “pluriform truth” from Frank Griswold? These sermons are getting more and more bizarre. This is a truly lost woman, and needs our prayers.
I found this monologue to be very unedifying.
Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. Seriously, did any of it mean anything?
From “Veritas” (Truth) to “viriditas” (green-ness).
That pretty well sums up the evolution of the Episcopal Church, which started with the principled legacy of Thomas Cranmer and has now ended up with the fecundity of Mother Earth as its guiding light.
Those of us old enough to have spent any amount of time watching Sci-Fi movies from the 1950s have seen all this before. The HoB has been taken over by Pod People from the planet Viridia (it would explain a lot). Even the minds of the most moderate (let’s be real, there are no longer any conservative or traditionalist) bishop in TEC has been infected with mold.
The change in tactics (huge carbon dioxide expenditure in travel, plus the exhaust of gases in all these so-called sermons) is designed to cause the greenhouse effect so long anticipated, and leave an atmosphere in which the Pod People can thrive.
#2- The problem is the lack of funds at 815. As we have all noted over the last few years, starting about 2008, KJS staff started writing all her domestic sermons for her, so she would end up reading stuff that was overtly liberal, but had the occasional biblical reference or used some bit of traditional terminology.
But whenever she goes oversees, say Ecuador or Taiwan, they can’t afford to send the entourage of ghostwriters, so she jots down her own homilies on the back of an envelop, or whatever, and we get bits of fantasy fiction like this one, that come across like something out of a novel from the 70s, where the author takes a couple of druidic legends and adapts them so that instead of worshiping a huge oak tree in a grove, they worship the largest clump of sea kelp that washes up on the shore each year.
I think the mold is getting to me, too- I never used to write run on sentences like that.