I have just returned from Athens, Georgia where my wife and I, with a small number of the members of St. Benedict's, attended the Diocesan Synod of the Diocese of the South, Anglican Catholic Church. The entire event was enjoyable, even the business part. It was a pleasure to meet some of our readers face to face as a fringe benefit, including one of our favorite comment writers, Fr. Wells (who signs his comments LKW). The graciousness, and good humor of Archbishop Haverland (who is our Diocesan Bishop) helped make this synod a happy time of good Christian fellowship amid the lengthy business of it.
As a result of the travel, I am tired; and having nothing profound to say tonight, I nonetheless want to pass on something amusing that was sitting in my inbox (if this came from a website I know not of, please inform me so I can give proper attribution). The contest of church signs in the pictures below reminds me of a true life story.
Many years ago I took a few classes in a seminary of the Presbyterian Church of America (PCA), where I learned, more than anything else, that I am an Anglican through and through. One evening, before the class began, a young man was lamenting that he had been rebuked by an elder from his church. "I was trying to teach Sunday School, but a young boy was crying. His dog had died, and he wanted to know if his dog may go to heaven. What could I say? I told him, 'well, maybe so. Why not?'"
This seemed like a reasonable answer to me, especially if a lion and a lamb can play together as friends in the Age to come. Nonetheless, I heard gasps of horror in the room.
"His father," the student went on, "Elder Smith (or whatever his name was) called me and let me have it. He set me straight about teaching heresy to children."
I let my sarcastic side rise to the surface, if you can imagine that. "You should have denied the scandalous charge; you should have said, 'I looked the crying child in the eye, and said; "Son, your dog went straight to Hell."'"
This did not get one laugh.
As a result of the travel, I am tired; and having nothing profound to say tonight, I nonetheless want to pass on something amusing that was sitting in my inbox (if this came from a website I know not of, please inform me so I can give proper attribution). The contest of church signs in the pictures below reminds me of a true life story.
Many years ago I took a few classes in a seminary of the Presbyterian Church of America (PCA), where I learned, more than anything else, that I am an Anglican through and through. One evening, before the class began, a young man was lamenting that he had been rebuked by an elder from his church. "I was trying to teach Sunday School, but a young boy was crying. His dog had died, and he wanted to know if his dog may go to heaven. What could I say? I told him, 'well, maybe so. Why not?'"
This seemed like a reasonable answer to me, especially if a lion and a lamb can play together as friends in the Age to come. Nonetheless, I heard gasps of horror in the room.
"His father," the student went on, "Elder Smith (or whatever his name was) called me and let me have it. He set me straight about teaching heresy to children."
I let my sarcastic side rise to the surface, if you can imagine that. "You should have denied the scandalous charge; you should have said, 'I looked the crying child in the eye, and said; "Son, your dog went straight to Hell."'"
This did not get one laugh.
Mark Twain said it best:
"Heaven goes by favor; if it went by merit, you would stay out and your dog would go in"
(You may have to click on the picture to make the letters larger)
7 comments:
Saw this one before, not sure just where. Just goes to show that (pardon the pun) DOGma for its own sake is not human - neither is it divine. Dogma serves God's purposes, not the other way around. Does anyone here know a God that likes to make little kids cry? I don't. What other purpose is served by such heartless rigidity?
What doesn't need to be defined shouldn't be defined.
ed
In C.S. Lewis' The Last Battle, as the earth dissolves and the Kindgom dawns, the dogs race ahead of the humans, going "farther in and higher up."
While my favorite of the medieval religious orders will always be the Gilbertines, I have always had a fondness for the Dominicans, "the little dogs of our Lord" as they were nicknamed.
My cats have a great fondness for dogs and have adopted every stray that has wandered down our road, even when the dogs where ten times their size. I think that is because their mother's mother had a Shelty for a midwife and nanny and the kittens would go sleep in the dog's fur.
Those who want only humans to be saved forget that when the world was created God said that it was good. I think that extends to all of creation and I, for one, would not want to talk down any of His creation for fear of offending the Creator. When we choose life, do we do it only for humans? I remember the grief of my oldest son who came home from the navy to find that his dog had died. Were his tears without worth? I hope God found some value, some evidence of an appreciation of the greatness of His creation in them.
The Synod was excellent indeed, and it was a pleasure to meet you, Fr. Hart.
I love the way those sign writers are so sure that their pet peeves are in the Bible. Lions and lambs may lie down together in the world to come, but I guess they figure that to lie with dogs, they would have to come up with fleas. I like another Mark Twain quotation.
The dog is a gentleman; I hope to go to his heaven, not man's.
-Letter to W.D. Howells, 2 April 1899
(Well, I think we may all hope for God's new heaven and new earth).
Those are hilarious but of course Photoshopped. (The same lighting and cars in each image.)
Veriword is Spari.
It was an excellent Synod, and I greatly enjoyed meeting and speaking with folks. I must apologize profusely for my complete illiteracy for the Daily Office on Thursday morning. Gah. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa!
--S.
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