ἐν τούτῳ νίκα

I was all set up for our Festival of Religious Tolerance (and Irony) today.

And what a day for it. Just consider:
312 - Constantine has his vision of the Cross before the battle of Milvian Bridge, with his instruction "in this sign, conquer".
1553 - With Calvin's agreement, Michael Servetus is executed as a heretic. If he'd lived anywhere other than Geneva, it would have been Calvin with the fire-lighters around his feet.

1659 - Execution of Boston Martyrs, William Robinson and Marmaduke Stephenson - who'd gone to New England to find religious toleration.

1838 - The Extermination Order demands that all Mormons leave the state of Missouri

So we were going to light some tea lights in honour of the victims of religious persecution, regardless of their faiths - and also of the irony that, through Constantine's victory, a persecuted faith eventually became a persecuting faith.

But Drayton Parslow wouldn't join us as, in his opinion, they'd all deserved it. The House of the Holy Hedgehog refused to join in unless we accepted that Mrs Tiggywinkle was a little spiny deity. The Moon Gibbon Folk were busy fighting the Marsh Gibbon Folk. And although we invited the Guinea Pig Worshippers of Stewartby, they replied that they weren't talking to us after we accidentally ate their gods thinking they were starters last year.

By the time we'd added up all the people who weren't going to celebrate International Religious Freedom Day, there were only five of us left. So I poured us each out a nice large glass of Jack Daniels and we toasted Michael Servetus.  It's what Calvin would have wanted.