SHEEP STEALIN’

Be not intimidated... nor suffer yourselves to be wheedled out of your liberties by any pretense of politeness, delicacy, or decency. These, as they are often used, are but three different names for hypocrisy, chicanery and cowardice.

-John Adams

Well, boys and girls,
The Toad said he wouldn’t do it. He said he was going to shift his derisive gaze to other cultural shibboleths (look it up, bunky) than the continuing Anglican churches. He knows what he said, pal. But, sometimes it’s just too easy, and someone places the chum on the water fright in front of you. Then, the Toad’s gotta’ veer to sneer.

This week, an alert reader—ok, probably a semi-comatose reader—brought the question of “sheep stealing” to the attention of the Toad. In particular, the reader was exercised by a couple of ongoing efforts at the same in their “continuing Anglican jurisdiction”. Seems as though one of the “prelates” of this body has hoisted the Jolly Roger and is sailing about trying to rustle the parishes of another such body. Thiat’s putting a new spin on Agnus Dei, isn’t it, boys and girls? Rawk*

He’s racked up more air miles than Squadron Leader Biggles did chasing the Hun, and, by all reports, there’s nothing that this oleaginous prelate won’t say to woo a parish unto his own fold. After all, he needs the money—oops—cares deeply for the souls of the faithful.

Who is this blackcoat blackguard, this pilfering primate, this covetous cleric? (How’s that for consonance, pally?) Well, here’s a hint—walk along the pavement made of the bodies of lightly-crushed clergy (they're recycling), follow the trail past the water feature in the seminary courtyard, run through the Great Hall of Multiple Living Spouses Who Aren’t Really There and then check your wallet. If you find it empty and are within hearing distance of a sermon on the profound crisis in Western Civilization, then you know that you are near to the great cathedral church of St. Bastard’s-by-the-Bay. It’s a bit like going to Mordor, but without the amenities.

The Toad gave this some thought as he sipped on some Grey Goose® brand vodka, a favorite of marauding monsignors, and contemplated sheep theft—the grabbing of others flocks to enhance one’s own. The Toad thought it was just a phenomenon of certain big-haired, evangelical Christians raiding his good ol’ Catholic church with shiny snare drums and pull down screens. Nope, not so.

The Toad, aided by more Grey Goose® brand vodka, took a look at church growth among continuing Anglicans over the years. Splitting, schism and parish rustling seems to be the primary means of “putting new pins on a map”. This is probably why the propeller-miters who head these bodies guard their real membership numbers (if there are any) like the Coca-Cola Company guards its formula or KFC the original recipe. Maybe, we just don’t want to know what’s in them any way, do we, toads and toadettes?

The splits and piracy over the years have been accompanied by some pretty wild accusations—many of them focused on the leaders of continuing churches and properly so. You’ve heard em’—they have drunk clergy, uneducated clergy, queer clergy, and just plain crazy clergy. Funny how the accusations tend to be made by clergy against clergy? Aren't any of your lay pepple sinning? Rawwwwwk!*
And how about those lay people? They appear to be reduced to “pledge units”—folks who pay the bills and fuel aspirations of the prelates of the little “jurisdictions” like bishops meetings in comfortable climes where there is an ample supply of Grey Goose® brand vodka. I’ll bet those McCormick and Schmick bills don’t make it into the diocesan budgets, do they bunky? Nope. That would be under “Bishop’s Travel”. Rawwwwk!

Now the latest of the ecclesiastical raiding seems to be targeting a group of these Anglicans that have hit on the utterly novel proposition that they want to seek unity with the “big Church.” (The Toad doesn’t want to use the word Catholic, lest you stop reading immediately and start in on the Grey Goose® brand vodka.)

Never mind that this group doesn’t yet have a deal with the “big Church”. Ignore the fact that even if there were a deal, folks would still be able to leave and join other continuing Anglican jurisdictions of whatever size they choose. Oh, yes, and completely overlook the trappings of most of these parishes make them look like a late Rococo Cathedral in Zaragoza. Nope.

It’s Roooooome! The Poooooope! Boogedy, boogedy, boogedy. Don’t look at our multiply-married bishops, our less-than-opaque finances, our diminishing numbers and our completely autocratic style. No. It’s Roooooome! The Poooooope! Boogedy, boogedy, boogedy. The Toad could draw an analogy to “Hope”, "Change" and the current political regime in the United States, but that would be unfair—to the politicos. Rawwwwk!*

One of the great things about America is its religious freedom. You can join any group you want, and be steam-cleaned to whatever extent you wish. You can be terrified by whatever religious leader you wish, even one spouting anti-Catholic bilge-after all, that’s acceptable bigotry, isn’t it? The claims can be wholly unsupported by any demonstrable fact. It’s a playground for free will, and it’s all there for the taking, particularly if you are slick and press the right buttons. Never mind what skeletons you’ve got hidden in your own sacristy or behind the water feature in the courtyard. Nosiree! As long as you preserve the "mystique of the episcopacy" and provide gravitas, the faithful will gather round. At lease that's the theory explained to the Toad in a long ago interview with one sacerdotal Svengali, a figure out of the episcopal version of central casting, after too many glasses of Grey Goose® brand vodka.

Well, here’s a message from the Toad, boys and girls. Maybe these guys actually believe their own come-on lines. But, all Christians lose in this situation, because a fragmented Christ is not credible to the one seeking to know whether Christ is Good News or just another instance of the human problems of judgment and hostility and self-interest. Put that in your miter and pull it down over your ears, pally.

Now, it’s time for the Toad to have more Grey Goose® brand vodka and get back to trading sheep futures. But, first, he’s gotta’ take a call…which of my former spouses is on the line? The lovely and talented Morgan Fairchild, you say? Put her through. Rawk, rawk, rawk!*

Sheep Dip Cocktail
1/2 pint lemonade
1 shot advocaat
1shot Blue Curacao
1/2 pint cider
1 shot Grey Goose® brand vodka
Add ingredients in the above order mixing after vodka and lemonade. poor over ice...very nice

Yr. Obed. Serv.,


Roy Aldous “Popish Plot” Toad,DD-VS (Very Specious), LSMFT, D.Phil.
Holy Catholic Orthodox Anglican Province of the Purloined Ovine-Original Jurisdiction (C'mon--you can't prove it's not real!)
*The Sound of One Toad Barking

Hollow Chocolate Bishops

“Within the hollow crown
That rounds the mortal temples of a king
Keeps Death his court.”
-William Shakespeare

Good morning boys and girls,

As we approach Lent, the Toad has been busy emptying the liquor cabinet. Alright, bunky, the Toad is always busy emptying the liquor cabinet, but that’s his business. Capisce? Good.

For some weeks, this old Toad, fueled by several cases of Old Overcoat, has been thinking about the direction of this little corner of dyspepsia. Church parody, particularly satire involving the shenanigans of “continuing” Anglican bodies, has worn thin. I mean, how many pseudo-seminaries can one write about? (Fine, the answer is “more than grains of sand on a beach.” Who are you people? Saint Augustine?)

In fact, these little groups “continue” to be their own best satire. Witness the recent grand ecumenical event to generate, you guessed it Toads and Toadettes, more continuing Anglican bishops. Rawk!*

Yep. For a group called UECNA (we’re not even trying to figure out acronyms anymore) numbering 300 to 600 there are three, count ‘em three new bishops. There was a big whoop in doing this because of the “ecumenical” dimension to the effort. The “consecration” was aided and abetted by the episcopal presence of two other “jurisdictions”-the APCK (est. 2,500 members) and the ACC (est. 3,000 adherents). While it is a bit difficult to for the Toad to figure out, that makes a rough total of about 13 U.S. bishops for maybe about 7,000 people in the ACC, APCK and UECNA. Wow, mater, get me a bowl of alphabet soup! I need something to cut the effect of the Old Overcoat.

When the Toad heard this, he thought it was simply his choice of adult beverages clouding reality like Lamont Cranston on a busy afternoon. But, no, there are actual pictures of this event. Strangely, there’s not much biographical information out there with it—you know, stuff like whether these gents actually saw the inside of a legitimate seminary or other more interesting episcopal tidbits, like how many living spouses there are among the crowd. Hey, at least nobody’s gay like in those other churches, right? What matters is service! And at about one bishop per member, you can bet there’s service aplenty. (Ok, that’s an exaggeration, but you get the point.)

The Toad suspects that there is a conspiracy among vestment makers to keep this stuff going. The rings alone will keep the children of both Duffy and Quinn in grad school for at least two years. And check out the assortment of copes, miters, rochets and chimeres. Gee, boys and girls, the Toad doesn’t want to think about the implications of the theologies behind those rigs.

It’s probably unfair to point at these little groups on the matter of the number of bishops they are putting out, much less what’s under the miters, or zucchettos or, whatever. Nosiree. Recent Anglican fragments have been cranking out the prelates like Mickey Ds does burgers. (“Look ma, it’s the episcopate of all believers. Or is that the priesthood of all bishops.”)

Now the big question is coming. Who gets to be in charge? Perhaps they’ll rotate it on alternate Thursdays. Or, they can put ‘em all in a locked room with a box of straight razors and a bottle of port and see who eventually phones out to Almy for an archbishop’s get-up. Rawk, rawk, rawk.*
Well, now there are more of these guys to bounce around their “pro-cathedrals”, make sovereign proclamations (never mind that authority thing) and “evangelize” by hucking other continuing Anglican parishes. The number of spottily-educated and, worse, unformed clergy will be turned loose to form “parishes” consisting of three old woman and a cat, who eventually will form their own “jurisdictions” and get themselves the miter they have so long deserved, all the while solemnly pronouncing their “catholicity.”

Toads and Toadettes, you heard it here—it’s all miter and no bishop. It’s like getting the big box of liquor-filled candies, and finding no thing inside—not even old overcoat. It’s more like getting a hollow chocolate bishop—the outside bits look real good, but there ain’t much working in terms of innards. At least those of the candy variety give us pleasure in their arrival and sadness when they’re gone, and not the opposite. Rawwwwwwk!*

So, the Toad is going to shift focus. Stop whining, bunky. He’ll still post the occasional nonsense about hollow bishops (chocolate or human), fake seminaries and religious scams. It’s like those potato chips or Old Overcoat, you can’t just have one. But look for a broader selection of craziness to be taken down in these pages. After all, there is so much to bark about, and so little Old Overcoat.

As you gear up for Fat Tuesday, the Toad recommends the Bishop Cocktail. HE particularly likes the fact that it’s decorated with various fruits. C.M. Almy, eat yer heart out. Rawk*

Bishop Cocktail recipe

Scale ingredients to 1 serving

juice of 1/4 lemons
juice of 1/4 oranges
1 tsp powdered sugar
Burgundy wine

Shake juice of lemon, juice of orange, and powdered sugar with ice and strain into a highball glass. Add two ice cubes, fill with burgundy, and stir well. Decorate with various fruits and serve.

Yr. Obed. Serv.,



“Bishop” Roy Aldous Toad,DD-VS (Very Specious), LSMFT, D.Phil.
Prelate-Holy Catholic Orthodox Anglican Church and Pancake House-Original Jurisdiction (C'mon--you can't prove it's not real!)
*The Sound of One Toad Barking