Showing posts with label Diocese of Fort Worth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Diocese of Fort Worth. Show all posts

Sunday, November 17, 2019

Convention



You know the old saying, "Bishops should be locked up and put in a cage." So true, but there's an exception which proves the rule, Jack Iker, Bishop of Fort Worth. I tell you, I have not served under a better bishop. Professional, uncompromising in the Faith and remarkably pastoral.

That and far more in mind, it was moving to hear Bishop Jack give his last address to the Diocese before retirement at our Convention this weekend. Quite a thing. Regardless, I sat next to an interesting woman at the convention dinner who told me that when it came to religion "she'd seen and heard everything."


A Typical Owl Idol

I thought about this for less than a second and fired back, "You have? What about this. Our local Church of Christ's teaching its members that the Original Sin wasn't Adam and Eve, no, it was Adam and Lillith. You know, the demon. What about that?"

She was confused and wondered where this curious teaching came from. "Perhaps from the Kabbalah, a grimoire or even the OTO." Huh, "What's that?" Well, you get the drift and she glazed over as I explained the reinvention of occult ritual magic under the aegis of Aleister Crowley. Who can blame her?


MAGA 2020

The night finished at the hotel bar with assorted priests, bishops, and clergy, great fun, as was talking with a couple of cowboys. I figured they were with the rodeo but no, just riggers and we swapped tales of horses and broken bones. What a good crew.


Texas

Saturday saw the business of the Convention, which was mercifully brief, and I headed for home via the country route. It was alright.

Free Roger Stone

LSP





Saturday, June 1, 2019

Hold The Fort



The sun was rising, Blue Perimeter was on the front porch, I was finishing off some coffee in the kitchen, and there was a voice, "Hey, Padre, where you at?" 

I looked 'round to see a rodeo buckle strolling in, "Dog didn't bite you?" Apparently not. "No, I just walked 'round him," said the cowboy, "Let's go to Fort Worth." 

And that's what we did, drove down I35W to the metrosprawl to elect a new bishop for the Diocese of Fort Worth. I know, you think "so what?" So a lot. 




Fort Worth  is the last Anglo-Catholic diocese of stature to remain standing against the libtransgay revolution that's doing its best to turn us into genderless satanic drones of the NWO.

We stood against that and elected Fr. Ryan Reed to be our next bishop. He's a good man, pray for him and his wife, Kathy.




This diocese will continue to stand firm and resolute for catholic truth.

Hold The Fort,

LSP

Saturday, November 10, 2018

November Fest



It's all going on in Texas, I tell you. House painting, Diocesan Convention, torrential rain, and endless street parties celebrating the tragic defeat of our faux Latino messiah, Beto. I went to one, it was awesome.




There were lights, food, a German band pumping out Erika and all was well. Good fun and a welcome chance to party after the Diocesan Convention's Mass and a scary drive on I 20.

Then we met again today to conduct the slight business of the diocese, meet old friends and generally get it together. There were lots of video reports, one of which seemed to say that God forgives and also forgets. 




How can God forget anything, He's omniscient. I made the point to a friend who thought this somehow "limited God."  Long story short, it doesn't.

And here we are back at the Compound, thanking God for His goodness and for survival on the highways of the metrosprawl.




Please pray for our bishop, Jack Iker, who was diagnosed with lymphatic cancer right after announcing his retirement a few months ago. 

We fight against principalities and powers.

God bless,

LSP 

Thursday, November 9, 2017

Teeth



I know, you're thinking this is a post about the exotic Tooth Djinn, Huma Abedin, whose hopes for power were shattered by the repellent Weiner. 




Then again, maybe you think it's about Huma's special friend, the Old Crone, who was renowned for her fine teeth before she found herself "lost in the woods."




Or perhaps you're thinking it's about Joe "Trans" Biden, whose prize winning teeth were thwarted of presidential ambition when their billionaire backer, Prince Wally, got himself thrown in the Ritz slammer thanks to the Magic Kingdom's recent night of long knives.





 Good call, vast international readership but not so fast. Because this well known mind blog isn't remotely narcissistic, the teeth in question belong to me, kind of. It started back in January when I pulled myself together and marched into a catastrophically expensive dentist.






"Holy Horseman," he announced like a cowboy, "I'm gonna have to weld those sonsabitches together in case you sneeze and blow your teeth all over the cabin of that plane to London!" He did, and I managed a trip to England without losing the all important front runners. They stood firm, like our brave men at Waterloo or Jackson at Bull Run.




Once back in the Lone Star State, I dodged the Maseratis to get into the dental clinic. "Why howdy! They all gotta go," was the cheerful verdict and damning xray evidence backed it up. There was all kinds of infection lurking around the sturdy jawline. And that's bad because it can mysteriously navigate down to the heart and kill you, stone dead.




So out came the few remaining ivories, in went a couple of implants and on popped a set of falsies and a couple of bottles of synthetic opium. Opioids, they call it and apparently they're a scourge. Just see the video page of this blog and you'll see, QED.




Since then, life has been mostly about driving to Dallas to get the teeth seen to and today was no exception. You see, readers, getting bionic teeth replacement may sound like a walk in the park but it isn't. Still, thanks to the Diocese of Fort Worth it's possible. Thank you, Bishop Iker, 100%.
I file this story under "teeth in rural and not so rural Texas."

God bless,

LSP

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Chrism Mass 2017



Every year the clergy of the Diocese of Fort meet in Holy Week at St. Vincent's Cathedral in Bedford, Texas, for the diocesan Chrism Mass. Thanks for the photo, Fr. C.

But guess what, there's no liturgical dance and there aren't any clowns goofing off in the cathedral. Perhaps, in your book, this disqualifies the event as a meaningful worship experience. I find it a relief, but that's just me. 


Goofing Off in Church

This year's sermon had its moments too, including a quote from Evelyn Underhill:

God is the interesting thing about religion, and people are hungry for God. But only a priest whose life is soaked in prayer, sacrifice, and love can, by his own spirit of adoring worship, help us to apprehend Him.




I felt judged, and rightly so, by that.

God bless,

LSP

Friday, April 15, 2016

The Gates of Hell Shall not Prevail. God Bless Bishop Iker.

Bishop Iker in LSPland

You've heard the old saying, "They should round up all the bishops and put them in a cage." There's an exception to that rule in Jack Iker, Bishop of Fort Worth. 

Iker doesn't celebrate Neronian gay marriages and he doesn't ordain women, he doesn't even hold goof-off liturgical dances in his cathedral. But what he does do is drive out to LSPland to confirm a very sick man in his home, out by Slap Out, aka Hubbard.

We RV'd at the Compound and drove out to the countryside and the sacrament of Confirmation, in which the Holy Spirit is bestowed by the laying on of hands and anointing. Now, I've never been present at a "house confirmation," much less asked a bishop to do one and I'll tell you this, it was a powerful and blessed event. I don't say that lightly.


Cage These Goons. And Stacy Sauls? You're fired.

Bishop Iker is known for his unwavering stand for catholic orthodoxy, in the Anglican tradition, in the face of the litigious rage the Episcopal Church. He was the first traditionalist bishop to say enough is enough and leave the Episcopal Church with his diocese. He did so on the floor of the 2006 General Convention in Columbus; I know, I was there. Three years later the Episcopal Church rounded on Iker and his diocese, suing him personally and the diocese, in an attempt to gain its money, property and presumably wreck the life of its bishop.


A Couple of Goof-Off Clowns

That lawsuit is ongoing at huge expense and the Episcopal Church is losing, having suffered a series of defeats in the courts. 

The result has yet to be called, but Bishop Iker remains a pastoral and good man in the Apostolic succession. And what can I say? 




The gates of hell shall not prevail, do not compromise with them.

God bless,

LSP

Friday, November 20, 2015

Fighting Talk



If the Takfiri terrorists get past the pump and the pistol they'll have to reckon with the rods, an umbrella, an out of tune piano, and a Blue Heeler. Good luck, Daesh.

But the front against terror comes in many forms, and one of the reasons I'm here in this bucolic farming community is to face off against lib mutineers, who tried to take over the Mission in 2009 and hand it over to the pink empire of gayness, TEC (The Episcopal Church).

"Set up in the compound, LSP," said the bishop, "and stop those terrorists from taking over the church."

So that's what I did.

Your Pal,

LSP

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Fr. Dolling on Chicago



Anglicanism's a confusing beast, and it gets all the more confusing when you consider its claim to be catholic. This isn't taken very seriously these days, if it's considered at all, but it was in the 19th century, when the 1st and 2nd Oxford Movements worked to catholicise the Church. For the clergy and people of this movement, to be an Anglican was to be a catholic Christian. 

One of the more colorful figures of the 2nd Oxford Movement was a slum priest, Fr. Dolling, and I was reminded of him at a clergy conference (SSC) today, in Arlington.

Dolling visited America in the late 1890s and stayed for a year, before returning to work in England's slums. He was struck by the country, especially Chicago; here's his description of the city on a Sunday evening:

"Comparatively few of the churches are open on Sunday night. All the theatres, and music-halls, and saloons, and low resorts certainly are. To wander along State Street on a Sunday evening is to witness sights the equal of which is to be seen in no other city in the world, and as to what may be seen in other cities of the world I have not a small experience. There is no suggestion of Sunday evening. The shop-doors are closed, but all the windows are a blaze of light, and before them are crowds of women looking at the bonnets, on slowly revolving discs, or watching the electric appliances that dazzle the eye with sudden gleams of tinted globes. Crowds surge about the lower-class theatres. There is the beating of a drum and the shriek of a hurdy-gurdy to attract to a dime museum. At one street-corner is a man yelling anarchy. He has a big crowd. At another street-corner is a sallow, curly-haired individual demonstrating that the earth is flat. He has 200 listeners. At another corner is a semicircle of Salvationists, and a tall woman in a poke bonnet is nasally yelling in prayer that God would strike Chicago to Hell. There are not more than a dozen onlookers."

I love that.

God bless,

LSP

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Diocesan Convention, Gun Show, Yorkshire Pudding


I drove to Fort Worth today for our Diocesan Convention. It was good to meet up with like-minded clergy and people and I tell you, that's at a premium these days. But this is the Diocese of Fort Worth, so what d'you expect, a gang of gender advocacy clowns? A crew of labyrinth walking priestesses? 



No, none of that. There was a gun show next to the Convention and I went to that too. Uplifting to see all the guns, I always think. One old fellow said, "Father, you're a brave man coming here." I liked him for that and replied, "I love shooting," and that's the truth.



But when I'm not going to Conventions or gun shows, I tend to be searching for the perfect Yorkshire Pudding. I've tried a few recipes with varying degrees of success. Here's one that works for me.

Blend/whisk 4 eggs with 1 1/4 cups of flour and 1 1/2 cups of whole milk and 1/2 teaspoon of salt. Set aside and refrigerate for at least half an hour. Don't cut corners like a lazy soldier.



Preheat oven to 425. Put 1 teaspoon of oil/drippings into each indentation of a muffin tin. Put the tin in the oven until it's smoking hot, like the barrel of your carbine after a good blast at the opposition.

Take the batter out of the fridge. Give it a quick whisk, then use something to ladle it into the muffin tin so that each indentation is appx 3/4 full. It will sizzle. This is good, don't hang around pondering it like some kind of dumbass Buddhist, get the tin filled and back in the oven. Attention to detail.



Let the Yorkshire goodness cook for around 20 minutes at 425 until risen and golden. Do not open the oven like an idiot recruit. The puddings will sink and die. Like the Episcopal Church, or Wendy Davis' useless campaign to take over Texas.

There's other recipes, like the "Three Way Split," in which eggs, flour and milk all go together, 1 cup per ingredient. And many more, which I will try. In the meanwhile, the above works for me.

Some say Yorkshire is God's own County. That would make Texas God's own Country.

LSP

Thursday, May 1, 2014

May Day Beltane


I celebrated May Day by driving to Fort Worth for a diocesan clergy day; we celebrated the Feast of St. Philip and St. James, Apostles, with a Solemn High Mass. I like that.

The Usual Hippy Goof-Off

Hippies wouldn't though. They're not down with the Mass on May Day, much less Apostles. They like Beltane instead, and when they're not too busy hustling for spare change and thieving, they sometimes band together and take over town centers.

Horned God

When they get there they usually just goof-off, maybe beat on some drums, dance around a bit, rip-off tourists, the usual. More together crews have a May Queen, a Greene Man and a Horned God, chances are they'll wig out to a fire rave too.

Wicker Man

Perhaps that seems innocent to you. I'll direct your attention to the Wicker Man, and while you're at it, if you have the energy, google Beltane Episcopal Church (TEC). Several stories if you care to write them.

Blessed May Day and Feast of Ss. Philip & James,

LSP

Monday, December 9, 2013

Oklahoma Episcopalians Get Gay(er)

The Dean of St. Pauls Gets Gay

St. Paul's Episcopal Cathedral, Oklahoma City, and Holy Trinity, Guthrie, have announced plans to hold gay blessing ceremonies, becoming the first two Episcopal churches in the Western half of Oklahoma to offer same sex blessings.

Oklahoma Carry

For Justin Lindstrom,  the newly appointed Dean of St. Paul's Cathedral, the blessings are "appropriate" because other sorts of relationships are also blessed. “We ask God to bless all types of relationships, and so for us to formally ask God to bless same gender couples seems very appropriate to this community,” said the deep-thinking Dean.

Make that a Venti

Gay marriage is illegal in Oklahoma, unlike open carry, which is not, unless you go to Starbucks where it's banned. Unlike Oklahoma, Texas does not allow open carry, strangely, even though some some of its Episcopalian dioceses do allow same sex blessings. 

The Diocese of Fort Worth does not permit gay marriage and its clergy cannot open carry, even though we are allowed to shoot pistols. Confusing, eh?

Shoot straight,

LSP












Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Clergy Deployment


Once a year the clergy of the diocese of Fort Worth go on retreat at Montserrat, which is a Jesuit house on Lake Dallas. It's a silent retreat, except for the first evening, which features the civilised custom of a cocktail hour followed by supper.

I sat with the bishops and suggested a new deployment strategy for incoming clergy. It went like this:

LSP: Bishops! I have a new deployment strategy for the diocese.

Bishops: Yes?

LSP: It's very simple.

Bishops: Good.

LSP: Yes.

Bishops: Well, what is it?

LSP: If you can't ride and you don't shoot you can't get in.

Bishops: Ah.

The assorted prelates seemed to like the wisdom of my plan and I look forward to its implementation in the coming years.

Stay on the horse and shoot straight.

Cheers,

LSP


Friday, May 29, 2009

Hoof Junky

The outside of a horse is good for the inside of a man

Winston Churchill

I've discovered that's true, but only because a strange and lets face it, terrifying confluence of aspects, spat me out of Canada and into rural Texas, where I minister to two country missions in the Anglican Diocese of Fort Worth. What does that mean? Amongst other things, that I'm a shameless Trad - liberal humanism masquerading as christianity doesn't cut it for me - and...

that I get to ride horses. Now this is something I always wanted to do and somehow never did until I noticed the odd parishioner turning up for Mass in working boots and spurs - right out of the stables and into church on a Sunday morning. 'Result,' as SBW (Suburban Bushwacker) used to say. So one thing led to another and before too long I'm in the stables talking God, Guns, Church and learning to post under the watchful eye of equine professionals.

Nothing better; perhaps its Texas, perhaps its the horse itself, but I find there's a freedom in it which I know I wasn't finding in the city. Its practical too - when the gas runs out I'll have transport. And that's what this blog's about, reflections on some of the home truths and simple pleasures of being a country priest in the Lone Star State. 

Oh, if you need a Ferrier, check out Coty at http://hoofjunky.com/ , you can see him at work above, shoeing BeBop and dispensing wisdom.

God bless,

LSP