Delicious Irony
The Provost of the Cathedral of St Mary, Glasgow, has announced the following:
I have been giving much thought as to how we should mark the Lambeth Conference this summer. All the duly consecrated bishops of the Anglican Communion have been invited to Canterbury for a conference with the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams. Well, all bar one - the Rt Rev Gene Robinson, the first bishop to acknowledge that he is living in a gay relationship will not be there as he has not been invited.
I have been invited several time to go to Lambeth, to campaign and wave banners and speak and generally campaign. I have decided not to do this. We must simply be who we are.
it seems to me to be desirable to have someone at the end of the conference to come and preach to us. But who would the best person to have be? After all, all the bishops of Communion will be busy with Rowan Williams in Canterbury at the Conference. Well, all bar one. I’m delighted to announce that the Rt Rev Gene Robinson, the Bishop of New Hampshire has agreed to come and celebrate the Eucharist and to preach the gospel on 3 August 2008 at 1030 here in St Mary’s.
I have met Bishop Gene, prayed with him and heard him preach. He is well worth hearing and I invite you all to bring your friends along on that Sunday to hear him.
This would not be the first time that an American cleric was able to do something in Scotland he was unable to accomplish in England. I find I cannot suppress the thought that somewhere in the Choir Celestial the first American Bishop Samuel Seabury may not be enjoying a quiet chuckle.
Hat tip TA.
Tobias Haller BSG
Posts
13 comments:
You certainly got a chuckle out of me! Gotta love those Scots!
Oh, I love this. Samuel Seabury is indeed chuckling somewhere.
I thought Bishop Gene was invited and going (both) I guess just going - I'm glad at least he'll be there. And also his presence will be felt. I was so optimistic that this controversy would be short-lived as they met and got to know him but maybe it's not like that .. yes I know I'm new to this but was hopeful for more.. anyway the idea of an American shaking things up is neat .. it's never been a clear cut theological/doctrinal issue biblically or otherwise and just from the pastoral side (at least the marriage part) they (the Bishops) eventually should just get over it..Anyway thanks for the update Tobias..
What a brilliant idea. I'm glad you posted this.
I also want to thank you for the recommendations you made on my blog yesterday. I have heard the name of Margery Kempe but knew nothing about her. Glad to know I have something in common with a famous mystic. :-)
Isn't it wonderful???
The Scots have always presented a problem for me: how can they be so splendid in all things ecclesiastical (oh, and they are!) and still enjoy something as horrendous as (urgh) haggis?
Haggis, despite the gory descriptions, is merely a Scottish sausage.
Like all sausages, it makes use of that which is left over after butchering (offal and lower quality meat) combined with a filler (oatmeal in this case), stuffed inside a casing (intestines or, in this case, stomach).
Haggis is no more disgusting than Slavic Kielbasa, Italian salami, English bangers or North American breakfast sausage (either link or patty). Indeed, the wholesome ingredients of haggis are a substantial improvement over that quintessential American delicacy, the hot dog.
Though not as ironic as the subject of the original post, haggis, when properly prepared, is every bit as delicious.
What other sausage has ever been the subject of poetry?
Address To A Haggis
- Robert Burns
Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o' the puddin-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy o' a grace
As lang's my arm.
The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o' need,
While thro' your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.
His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An' cut you up wi' ready sleight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like ony ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin, rich!
Then, horn for horn,
they stretch an' strive:
Deil tak the hindmost! on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve,
Are bent lyke drums;
Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
"Bethankit!" 'hums.
Is there that owre his French ragout
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi' perfect sconner,
Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view
On sic a dinner?
Poor devil! see him ower his trash,
As feckless as a wither'd rash,
His spindle shank, a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit;
Thro' bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!
But mark the Rustic, haggis fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread.
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll mak it whissle;
An' legs an' arms, an' heads will sned,
Like taps o' thrissle.
Ye Pow'rs wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o' fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies;
But, if ye wish her gratefu' prayer,
Gie her a haggis!
Having had haggis once (a quarter century ago at a Robert Burns Night sponsored by a Saint Andrew's Society) at my former parish, I can attest that it is probably unjustly condemned. It is a matter of taste, of course, and there does seem to be a significant proportion of the population who cannot abide anything with any liver in it -- which I think is among the constituents of haggis. So those who do not like liverwurst, pate, and my own favorite, scrapple (a comfort food of my childhood in Baltimore!) will also likely find haggis disagreeable. It seems to be that the "bitter" end of the flavor continuum occupied by liver (and dishes towards which it contributes) overlaps a bit with turnip -- another much maligned food. For myself, I found the combination of turnip and haggis quite edible. So, de gustibus and all that. Though, even I will admit, haggis is not the most attractive dish.
"Though, even I will admit, haggis is not the most attractive dish."
That's why you poor whiskey over it. It makes you forget its looks very quickly.
The haggis is a strange animal. It looks a little like a dachshund but it has 2 longer legs on one side and 2 shorter ones on the other. That's so it doesn't fall down the Scottish mountains.
Now where is that book on the life of the haggis I brought back from Scottland once....
As an Englander, I can only look in envy to my brothers and sisters up north!
I've a feeling, though, that one day I'll end up in one of the celtic fringes
Isn't this lovely? I love the Scots, haggis and all.
Ah, Erika, your description of the haggis makes me think of a bagpipe without the pipes!
I love the Scottish Episcopal Church, not for what it has, but for what it lacks - the 39 Articles, policies preventing the ordination of gays and lesbians.
I was at an official reception for the Fête nationale du Québec the other day at which I sampled paté de fois gras, and I still cannot tell if I disliked the taste of the dish itself or rather merely the idea of it.
Post a Comment