Much horror around the Community at the revelation that Justin Welby, at the General Synod, encouraged people to turn to their neighbours and share their joy in their faith. On its own an action to make one regret the Reformation.
I mean, this sort of thing is OK for Pentecostals. They can share their experiences of warmed hearts and salvation experiences. But Anglicans? At Synod? I presume a few were heartily encouraged by what they shared. And a few rejoiced in how they'd got the Victorian Society in to put one over the Church Wardens in their misuse of antique tea towels.
We had the misfortune a few years ago to accidentally invite someone from the AoG to lead a retreat day. I mean, I thought we were getting the Archdeacon of Grantchester. Not the Assemblies of God. Towards the end, she invited us to share with our next-door neighbours what we'd learnt during the day.
I had to feel for poor Gerund, as Sedrick turned to him, and told him he'd realised that life was a pointless struggle, that death is the end, and the universe will end in screaming chaos. But there was worse.
Imagine the horror overcoming Stacey Bushes, as Burton Dasset declared he had realised he loved her as he'd never loved a woman before. Almost as much, indeed, as he loved his solar-powered desk calculator.
Stacey was in Aylesbury before she stopped running.
is probably the book for you.