Christmas At Wenchoster

THE BISHOP'S COLUMN:

Hello! Es the popular tune declars, ‘It’s the most popular tame of the yar.’ Indeed it is. Not jest a tame for celebrat-i-on but also a tame of surprises. Peeking ite from under my tree is an anonymous gift of a strange shape. What glorious mysteries lie under the wrepping paper of snowmen and holly? What is it? How will I use it? Cen I shar it? Will it requar betteries? Awl of these quest-i-ons cen be asked of Christmarss es we draw near to the greatest gift of awl. How will we use it indeed? We will, won’t we? End shar it with others, of course.

It is awlso good to recall are blessings as we tuck into the bainty of the Yuletide season. Remember that not awl of Gawd’s people cen sit dine to relish a goose end stuffing. Es ay prepar to sit dine et table I will say a prar for those less fortunate then areselves and ask the Lawd to bless them. Then end only then will I sip may fane claret. Won’t ay.

Gawd bless, us every one!

Message from the Archbishop of Canterbury:

Walking the banks of the River Wye is something I like to do even on the most inhospitable of weather days. N will pack me a small lunch and I will happily spend a morning, even a day, engaging with the natural beauty around me, and pondering the deeper theological strata of stylistic elements within the theonomy of twentieth century thought. And so it was only last week, as I took in the miles between Tintern and Monmouth. Here and there I saw a high flying hawk, and thought that the liturgical symbolism of the Spirit in the western ecclesia could be reinvented....

Read the rest of the message at the link above.

From the Carol Sheet:

Away in the "Nine Bells", no room at the bar,
We sit in the "Snug" with our pipes and a jar.
The logs in the fireplace all crackle and hiss,
As we laze in the warmth and give Compline a miss.

The Choirboys are singing their carols so sweet,
Whilst outside the window, snow falls in the street.
Our ancient cathedral is glowing with light,
And shines like a beacon through the depths of the night.

"Another, dear landlord! Come fill up my cup,
With the nutty brown liquid that I love to sup!"
A Wenchoster Christmas is a time of good cheer,
If I get all my stuffing, and a firkin of beer.

Could it be that a hacker with a streak of wickedness sometimes gets into their website?