Until I read the link I thought that the building was painted purple for Advent. And as for the 'blessing of the purple' how on earth do they keep a straight face.
I am tempted to say 'only in America' which might bring down the wrath of any Americans reading father's blog but I cannot see people falling for anything similiar in Britain. It really is feminism gone berserk.
My initial reaction was "Phew! At least it is not a Catholic church..." But I suspect something similar might be found in certain Catholic parishes here. It is in San Francisco after all.
At the risk of incurring the wrath of Archdruid Eileen, might they be the American version of the Beaker People...?
I haven't seen anything so funny for years. Highights: the arthritic 'liturgical' dancer badly in need of a Radox bath;the sprinkling of hen-pecked husbands; the free-rendering of the Red Flage at the end; the harpist wading in with Greensleaves; the idiotic expression on the ministrines face when she was grappling with that enormous loaf. Suburbia in excelsis deo.
8 comments:
Do you reckon they repaint the building green for Ordinary Time?
Good grief!
Mmm. Grief, but not good.
However, it definitely demonstrates how sensible our Lord was to consecrate only men as priests.
Until I read the link I thought that the building was painted purple for Advent. And as for the 'blessing of the purple' how on earth do they keep a straight face.
I am tempted to say 'only in America' which might bring down the wrath of any Americans reading father's blog but I cannot see people falling for anything similiar in Britain. It really is feminism gone berserk.
I like Sue Sims comment and thoroughly agree.
My initial reaction was "Phew! At least it is not a Catholic church..." But I suspect something similar might be found in certain Catholic parishes here. It is in San Francisco after all.
At the risk of incurring the wrath of Archdruid Eileen, might they be the American version of the Beaker People...?
ouch! take cover!!
I haven't seen anything so funny for years. Highights: the arthritic 'liturgical' dancer badly in need of a Radox bath;the sprinkling of hen-pecked husbands; the free-rendering of the Red Flage at the end; the harpist wading in with Greensleaves; the idiotic expression on the ministrines face when she was grappling with that enormous loaf. Suburbia in excelsis deo.
Thank you Luther!
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