As everybody seems to be bailing out of the LCMS Titanic, either like that kid John Cardinal Horehaus who poped, or like those other young Turks who have been swimming the East River lately (I'd mention their names, but I figure its easier just to Google the Fort Wayne Alumni Association), I'm never surprised when someone else finds a new ring to kiss. Cripes, even the bronzies have made up their own "diocese" and started calling some Texan a "bishop." Well, at least they didn't pick Stefanski to be their Pontifex Gluteus Maximus, else they'd have to call him the Archcat41 and blow the white smoke out of the internet. Besides, hasn't Arkansas been embarrassed enough? Of course, in Texas, the bishop is easy to spot - he's the one with tobacco drool only coming out of one corner of his mouth.
But Herman Otten? Hell, I figured he'd be the last one left in the Missouri Synod - which would be quite a feat since he's never been in it. From my years of reading Crusty News, I always pegged Hermes as a Geneva man - what with the loopy Presbyterians he lets write in his rag - not to mention the Baptist "Turretts of the Times" column. The last thing I ever thought I'd see would be Otten swimming the Tiberius.
But check out the headline: "Poper Distinction Between Law and Gospel." Poper?
Now if that ain't a Fraudulent Slip, I don't know what is. Herman has gone papist. He'll soon be making rosaries out of those little C.F.W. Walther idols he used to sell with the 20,000 Beck Bibles he has stacked in his garage. You know, a lot of folks knock the Beck Bible, but it has done some good. For one thing, it makes the NASB sound like naturally spoken English by comparison. It also demonstrated to all of Christendom that the Jehovah's Witnesses aren't the only sect that can have their very own Bible. Anything they can do, we can do better - including the "Lutheran Watchtower" they mail to me every month.
Of course, this also means Hermione's buttboy Jackie Cashione will soon be praying to the saints as well (not to mention frothing at the mouth and ranting to God that He's going to hell unless He starts submitting to the Divine Voters Assembly). Besides, Jack will fit in far better with the greasy Sopranos than the blond-haired blue-eyed Von Trapps, if you get my drift.
We shoulda seen this "poper" thing coming, though, Herman being a health nut and all. I mean, how many fish dinners do you have to eat on Friday before you start wearing vestments and putting candles on the altar? It starts innocently enough with entry-level bass and perch and ends up with hardcore Bingo and Purgatory.
Well, with Otten on his way to the Vatican, maybe I'll be the last old fart to leave the synod. I'm too stubborn and set in my ways to jump ship at this point. Hell, I'm a soldier. I can't even make my soap float let alone "jump ship."
Besides, I figure once I'm the last one left in the Missouri Synod, we'll actually have closed communion for once.
