It's a long weekend in Belgium and other parts of the Christian world. Ascension, or Assumption, or Aspersion, or something of that ilk. I know it's not Whitsun, that's on 12th-13th June this year. The calendar is all gone to pot - the weather came early, the holidays are late. How on earth is a gel supposed to keep track of her social diary?
No, I've just checked and it's Ascension, to commemorate Our Lord being taken up to Heaven. If anyone was going to be Raptured, it should have been today. Those Family Radio people should read their Bible more attentively.
On 21st May McChe and I sat there in our best clothes, he even put on his kilt for the occasion. God help anyone who was ascending after him. They'd have got a vision of Hell on their way to Heaven. I wore my pearls. Pearls look smart with anything. But six o'clock came and went. We had our tea. We waited. By the time EastEnders came on we had to conclude we were not among the Chosen. Him, I can understand, being poor in spirit he will inherit the earth and can go looting all the houses of the Raptured. But me - saint that I am! There's no justice. I am going to write a Stiff Letter.
Now it appears they got the date wrong. It's 21st October, not 21st May, when God will make his selection and destroy the rest of the world. Too bad for the looting. Apparently this was just a rehearsal. Great inconvenience. I'll have to renegotiate the mortgage, reconnect the electricity, and uncancel my subscription to Private Eye. Honestly, you'd think Christians would be more considerate.
Meanwhile, I've got time to find a suitable song to play as I'm ascending. I thought this would set the right tone.
No, I've just checked and it's Ascension, to commemorate Our Lord being taken up to Heaven. If anyone was going to be Raptured, it should have been today. Those Family Radio people should read their Bible more attentively.
On 21st May McChe and I sat there in our best clothes, he even put on his kilt for the occasion. God help anyone who was ascending after him. They'd have got a vision of Hell on their way to Heaven. I wore my pearls. Pearls look smart with anything. But six o'clock came and went. We had our tea. We waited. By the time EastEnders came on we had to conclude we were not among the Chosen. Him, I can understand, being poor in spirit he will inherit the earth and can go looting all the houses of the Raptured. But me - saint that I am! There's no justice. I am going to write a Stiff Letter.
Now it appears they got the date wrong. It's 21st October, not 21st May, when God will make his selection and destroy the rest of the world. Too bad for the looting. Apparently this was just a rehearsal. Great inconvenience. I'll have to renegotiate the mortgage, reconnect the electricity, and uncancel my subscription to Private Eye. Honestly, you'd think Christians would be more considerate.
Meanwhile, I've got time to find a suitable song to play as I'm ascending. I thought this would set the right tone.
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