What a strange morning. Praise would appear to be the only appropriate response. Apart, that is, from thanksgiving.
I was already looking forward to the first service of the newly-reconstituted Bogwulf Independent Funambulist Baptist Church. But when three score Beaker Folk appeared in the pews as well I did not understand what was going on.
However. I preached the sermon I had prepared - based on the message of John the Baptist. I told the congregation they were a brood of vipers, fit only for destruction. That only fear, repentance and grovelling could possibly see them dragged - if grace sufficient were provided - scorched but not aflame from the fearful infernal flames. I told them that the divine judgement was already upon them, and they were loathed with a heavenly loathing.
To the Funambulist Baptists, this was standard stuff, and they responded with contented nods. But the Beaker People in the congregation seemed quite happy. Afterwards, they told me that, however fearsome my preaching had been, it was still more cheerful than the Archdruid's current mood.
I must reconsider. Have I gone soft?
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