What are you doing in Hell?
I'm not sure that I should trust a Reverend who resides in Hell (or Lewisham, for that matter).

So it seems that I am suspicious and have problems trusting people, particularly clergy. What should I do about it?

Yours insecurely,

My local vicar does not have a gynaecological calling so I am at a loss of where else to turn. Which is the most holy method of contraception?

Surely God has given you a word for me about this?

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I have a problem ministry.

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But the gift and call are irrevocable, dear brother. Stick with it!

I have Species Dysphoria. It is something like Gender Dysphoria except... you know. Am I outside God's salvation economy? I've tried to take comfort from the scriptures - especially I've read Luke about the ravens - God feeds them an' everything but Jesus says that people are much more important. Matthew is not much help either with the 2 sparrows bought for a penny. Surely coots are worth more than sparrows? And...(quaver) and they don't fall to the ground apart from the Father's will. Why would he want birds to fall to the ground anyway? That's a terrible thing you know 'cos we can't fly too good to begin with. And Jesus says people are worth more than many sparrows. I reckon coots come somewhere between sparrows and ravens so that makes people much and a half of much more important than coots - do we still get there? You know the Father's house with the many rooms, well, are there some nests for water fowl in there too?

Someone even said that animals don't have souls. I cried for 2 weeks. But then I realised that birds aren't animals, are they? We're a bit like angels really.

Of course, that's American coots, the only kind I've seen personally.

At any rate, they're much different from ravens and sparrows. Take comfort, Coot.

Y'know, like writing "Turn to Leviticus for dirty bits" in the Bible in the Choir Stalls?

No-one else did that?

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Originally posted by The Happy Coot:
Why would he want birds to fall to the ground anyway?

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Only Charismatic birds, I think. That's what happens when you fly over Toronto...

Faintsaint
It seems that I am suspicious and have problems trusting people, particularly clergy. What should I do about it?

Alas and woe unto thee Faintsaint! For thou art possessed by a spirit of unbelief.
And if you don't believe that, what more proof do you need?

Now what is nice Christian young girl doing thinking of such sordid and disgraceful things? Your mind should be focussed on doves and sunsets and God's lovely kittens.

Anyway, surely this is a matter for your husband to decide.

If the brother in question were to seek my discernment on this delicate matter I should remind him of the only 2 places where the whole unpleasant subject is mentioned in Scripture.
Genesis 38 makes it clear that coit*s inter*ptus is punishable by death.
And then 2 Samuel 20:8 says "And Joab's sword was fastened upon his loins in the sheath thereof; and as he went forth it fell out." I think it's quite clear what that's getting at.

The only role birds have to play in the divine order of things is to be eaten by humans and to be sacrificed to put right our sin. This should be enough for anyone.

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Originally posted by Rev Gerald Ambulance:
The only way to be delivered is to pull out all your hair (no, shaving is not enough!) and bathe in Holy Oil from the Mount of Olives (16.99 a bottle from RGA Ministries).

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My Dear Reverend

Thank you so much for your reply. I was actually beginning to doubt your very existence (see how serious my problem was?) until I was delivered with your message from the Lord! Forgive my unbelief once more.

However, I have a further problem. I misread your wisdom-filled response. I pulled out the bath and bathed my hair with Holy Oil. Now I have a terribly greasy head and no bath to wash it in. What shall I do? Is this the Lord's vengeance for me using
Somerfield Wingnut Oil at £1.99 a gallon instead of your kosher Holy Oil?

Yours in increasing desperation.

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Well, it's most irregular, but the Bible nowhere specifically says that cannibalism is a sin. So as long as you wait until the diminutive merchants death die of natural causes before tucking in, then remember Genesis 9:3: "Every moving thing that liveth shall be meat for you." I think that's from the Lord.

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I'm most disappointed. I meant, of course, my SEXUAL appetite - not to say gynaecological...

I was a bit sad to hear that the ministry of coots is to be eaten or offered in sacrifice. I was even tempted to rail against your discernment, however, as I am a quietly-governed Anglican prayerbook coot, well, we don't do that sorta thing.

Anyway, I've got a question from a friend.

Is it permissible for the People's Warden (or their proxy) to know the Bishop in the biblical sense in order to effect a subdivision of church land, whereby all proceeds from the sale of the spare bit remain in the parish? The Diocesan Registrar is being a bit intractable about the whole affair.

It would be a sort of sacrificial act. No greater love and all that. I know St Francis said something about preaching the gospel without words. This would sort of qualify, wouldn't it?

I am plucking myself as I wait in order to be prepared for my ultimate service,

I have a problem with my boss, which perhaps can best be phrased in terms of a multiple choice question:

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Originally posted by Wood:
Two days I spent on that bloody thing. And halfway through the first day, he asked me to 'make it a bit more pert'.

I'm at my wit's end. What do I do, Rev Gerald?

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I thought you were a married man, Wood? I thought that you would have worked it out by now...

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Originally posted by babybear:
it is not reasonable to use a flowchart as a over illustrations. It screams "70s computer textbook" and not "amazingly good bit of software".

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Damn right, Babybear. Which is what i told him.

I told him it was stupid.

He told me where my paycheque was coming from. Settled that one, I can tell you

You have no idea how many times I have heard those words in the course of my life - my professional life that is of course, not my personal life. Any disappointment I may have caused to the alternative gender personally was either in my heathen days (Wednesdays and Saturdays), or more likely by my glorious calling to celibacy.

I have no idea what you're talking abut and therefore denounce your scheme utterly.

Look, if you're not going to follow my word for you, then any personal disasters you bring upon yourself are your own problem.
Unfortunately, having a problem ministry means that your problems are also mine. You see what a pain in the Balaam's ass this job is?

However I don't really see that you have much of a problem.
Your hair is greasy? When you've pulled it out as I instructed, it won't be. Well, it will be greasy, but it won't be on your head.
And you have no bath to wash it in? Why would you want to wash it when you've pulled it out?

It is just my friend fancies you!

Beenster
You want to be careful talking to a man of God like that. Of course the Lord long ago delivered the temptations of the flesh under my victorious feet, but it can still be quite an effort not to look down.

I will go back to bed and watch telly as my punishment.

No, you may not. My Christian name is in fact 'Rev' - my parents knew the will of God for my life from the start.

I remain ever humble and grovelling prostate at your great feet

You want to be careful doing that too.

what size do you take?

Revolting?
Revolving door?
Revised standard verison?
Revenge?

Am I close?

A friend of mine draws silly pictures during sermons and one can only assume that... um... she isn't really listening. Is this a sin, and if so is it a bad one?

I'd also like to ask whether you or anyone you know is coming along on the ship of fools weekend. It's just that I, like beenster, would like to sit at your feet and listen to your teachings. If there's time we could also converse on the ways of holiness.

Also it might persuade beenster to come on the weekend, which would be a good thing all round. Amen?

Every Sunday a number of parishioners show up to services late--between 15 and 20 minutes late. They always enter the chapel by the rear door and then try to squeeze into already crowded pews, and spend a good deal of time during the service asking what the announcements were in very loud whispers.

I find this a great distraction to worship and a bother when I have to move myself, or my coat or husband, or both, while the service is going on.

What's a good way of informing these people they are being rude (to God and humanoids) by being late every single Sunday?

Smoulderingly,

Please help. Dyfrig has developed an obsession with (his own?) idolatrous bollocks. Can he be delivered from this?

Yours anxiously,

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Originally posted by frin:
Dear Reverend,

Please help. Dyfrig has developed an obsession with (his own?) idolatrous bollocks. Can he be delivered from this?

Yours anxiously,

'frin

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The mind boggles... on better thoughts, I guess it shouldnt boggle for too long.

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...I am wed to Him before Whom we are all but as the gone off cucumber of time in the salad tray of eternity - the only kind of same sex marriage sanctioned by the Scriptures.

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My dear Fr. Ambulance (may I call you Father?)

I am awestruck/icken at the erudition of your replies to these sinners.

Might I inquire, with groveling respect learned at the feet of Miss Monica, where you developed the talent to string together your similes and metaphors??

I have lived in the southern part of the United States (New Nitey Stayuts) so I have developed a keen admiration for Picheresk language. But you just slay me.

I bet you have dogs living under your porch.

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Originally posted by frin:
Dear Reverend,

Please help. Dyfrig has developed an obsession with (his own?) idolatrous bollocks. Can he be delivered from this?

Yours anxiously,

'frin

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Oh dear, if she is writting like thi before the wedding, just imagine the fate of that poor Welshman *after*!

Dyfrig dear, there is still time to run back over the boarder. We will protect you. If this 'frin maniac follows we shall subject her to close-harmony singing, in Welsh!

I don't know if you can help a friend of mine - mentioning no names but Lev has got this serious fettish with bubble wrap. He is having an affair with some really manky old stuff. Although he would deny it hotly.

Do you think the gone off cucumber of slime could minister to him in some shape or form?

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Lev has got this serious fettish with bubble wrap. He is having an affair with some really manky old stuff. Although he would deny it hotly.

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Is that true Lev? Have you been seeing my bubble wrap? I thought it had been acting strangely recently and not popping so well.

Right then matey boy, pistols at dawn I think

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Originally posted by Beenster:

...Lev ... would deny it hotly.

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I don't see what the trouble is about. It's when these people no longer enjoy their perversities but still continue to do them that dysfunction arises.

As long as there's some warmth and not complete ennui, he's probably ok. At least, he won't be bored.

Sykologically yours,

It isn't short for anything, thou foolish woman of Bashan!
Behold, here (figuratively speaking) come the 10 wise virgins and 9 foolish virgins. They seem to be short, and I think you can help them out, can't you?

If my name was short for anything it would be short for Reverend. But my parents knew that if they called me that, people would shorten it, and they couldn't bear shortened names, so they called me Rev, which you can't shorten.

Anyway revenge and revolting are both sins, the Revised Standard Verison is the sporron of Beelzebub, and revolving doors - well I expect they're sinful too if you look into it enough.

Also I am intrigued by the lineage of Ambulance - can you trace your ancestory at all? If so what did your Ambulances in days gone by do Rev?

Yes I can trace my ancestry right back to God, via Adam and Eve. But as I'm a child of God anyway, there doesn't seem to be much point.

Some of my more anointed ancestors include:
Sir Hallelujah Ambulance of Putney, a Major-General in Cromwell's New Model Army, who, in his relentless campaign against paganism, burned over 100 maypoles, abolished 31 June (aka Frottage Day, celebrated with notorious frivolity and inappropriateness), reduced Stone-Wood-and-Glass Henge to its current state of disrepair, and expelled all heathen deities from the county of Suffolk.

St Ursula Stretcher, another glorious conqueror of paganism. She was a missionary to the pagan tribes in 8th-century Belgium, and had extraordinary success in converting countless whole tribes to The Way Of Life Everlasting, in their entirety. Her technique was to live among them in humility and usefulness, convert one person, and then kill the rest of the tribe.