'Yours in Faith...' A Bishop concludes.

Better of course than the dread 'forward in faith', which does so grate. Simple rule of epistolary style - if you could not say the opposite of what you have said, then what you have said is meaningless. Viz. - there could be no 'backward in faith', a concept unnatural; there could neither be 'forward without faith', a proposition ungodly. Ergo 'forward in faith' is pure pants.

A simple 'Yours faithfully' would indeed suffice for all, though granted it does rather smack of an old-fashioned bank manager courteously writing to lament the dire state of the Parish overdraft more than any a gung-ho and get 'em Bishop keen to win all souls for glory.

But what then between the aforementioned 'Dear Colleagues in Christ' and this now faithful adieu? As often so, dear Canon 'Pewter' Potts has nailed it. Fellow phoned me this very afternoon to chew over this latest episcopal missive, giving his sound and trenchant view of the thing as it seems to stand. 'Harumph' the initial pre-lingual yet truly emotional verdict. A good start.

'Ite missa est my arse' the more considered if saucy and entirely confidential view. We clerics must be allowed to let off steam too you know. Never, of course, would we ever permit ourselves to be overheard laying into a godly - or even a thoroughly ungodly - parishioner. No 'That scarlet woman' for us thank you. The public - or worse secret - denunciation of any sinner never does do any good. Though indeed so advised by the Great Apostle himself no less, on this - as on so much - I deign to disagree with his whole approach.

There are, of course, sinners whose conduct must be stopped dead in its track; when harm to the little ones is in the question for example. But even here it is not so much a matter of waving the Cross before their eyes in defiance of their shame, more rather beating them over the head with the very weapon of faith. Show me a pervert and I'll show a man - mostly - with a dent in his skull. (Saint Paul, I am certain, would much approve.)

But this is to stray beyond the matter presently to hand. Potts and I must be allowed our little moment of mockery at the Powers that must Be. Why then so cross? What causes this leviathan of the deep - for this our dear canonical friend a creature of largely silent and removed from sight aspect - to rise to the very surface and roar thus to our very faces?

Do, in passing one asks, whales 'roar' as such? I know they can make loud noises-off as it were. H was - for a short while mercifully - quite into those 'hug an animal today' CDs that purported to be recordings of whales calling across oceans one to the other. Could hardly enter the music room for sound of low mammalian mooing. Ghastly racket. Much relieved thence to discover that most of them were nought but another racket altogether - goodly number of these things turned out to be nothing more than some sly ferret of a fellow playing around with his synthesiser and other electronic gizmos, then flogging the resultant and fraudulent cacophony to the green and gullible for a tenner or more.

Back to it though. Why are we two old clerical salts so bellowing like despairing beasts, so pained as to cry out in our deep, mutual and near harmonic distress? 'Tis - in short - this. Bish Tom's letter has set forth a proposal for an alliance - possibly merger even - with the cold-hearted, clammy-handed Methodists!

A veritable slur you may well say, should you happen to be a warm and cuddly Sectarian. All I can say on the score is that you may exist, but I have never met you and, having happily lived without that pleasure thus long and far, can well manage without changing habits of a lifetime at this late - near twilight - hour thank you very much.

Tom's thesis is this: alone we cannot withstand the dark satanic forces that surround us, but together we may. With him on the first analytical bit - that Old Stan is alive and sadly all too well in our midst is plain for all to see who would see it. But on part the second - what proposal follows from the proposition as expounded - then I cannot have it so.

No good talking to me about 'transitional arrangements', 'commonalities of faith' or even 'shared modalities' whatsoever on God's good earth that one might mean. (Potts being kindly avers it may have something to do with Gregorian chant. I, though, maintain it to be utter hog-wash.) Church and Chapel do not mix. The centuries have proven it so, history is quite and completely on our side.

Stands, therefore, are to be taken and they shall. All perfectly prepared as requested by my Bish to participate in 'early initiative pre-dialogue discussions', but am also entirely prepared with my final line on the matter: "You worship Him in your way, and I'll worship Him in His. End of."

I do trust that whomsoever 'Dave' has entrusted with the tricky task of chatting to Clegg's chaps can bear that necessary and precious thought in mind. Where is Lord Tebbit when you need him? Kicking some defenceless dragon's arse it seems.