Sunday, 19 February 2017

Drayton Parslow's All-Masculine Sermon

And after that rousing last chorus of "Onward Christian Soldiers", we turn back to our text - "Put on the Full Armour of God."

Paul's use of this extended metaphor reminds us that there is nothing wimpy, effeminate or just plain womanly about the Christian life. It is not about humility, meekness or forgiveness - as President Trump has so plainly shown. No, it is about strength, manliness and a general whiff of the right kind of locker-room sweat and testosterone.

Football, eh? I always wondered whether to support Manchester Rovers or Arsenal City. But eventually, as a young man growing in the faith, I realised that the only club worth supporting was Millwall.  In many ways, the fans of Millwall in the 1970s and 80s were everything that the Christian church should be - small in numbers, beleagured, but murderously aggressive.  As St Paul so elegantly paraphrased in 2 Corinthians 11: "No-one likes us. We don't care."

And going to the pub. Now there's an activity for a proper bloke. I may not drink beer, and after a fourth pint of Cola I may find that I am starting to suffer from the kind of bloating that keeps me awake praising through the night watches. But there's no better place to be - enjoying the manly banter and a few games of pool.

So, brothers and sisters - but mostly brothers - let us go out into the world to tread weaklings under foot, wrestle with badgers, ride at high speed down narrow roads on housing estates.  And in everything we do - let us ask "what would Jesus do?" And then be a bit tougher than that.

This evening's bring-and-share tea has been superceded. I have challenged the Beaker Folk to a paintball competition in their Orchard. Ladies will of course not be required to take part. However if they could be brewing up some particularly strong beverage for the refreshment of the heroes afterwards - some Yorkshire tea, perhaps.

1 comment :

  1. Drayton, if you haven't leaned by now, that crossing the Arch Druid in the way that you have done, yet again, is bound to end in pain and humiliation - which makes your masculine fantasy seem what it is, a load of old cobblers.

    I hope that you are recovering from your bruises and have spent the night on your knees in repentance.


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