The Church That Forgot Christ
Prologue
What I am going to do now is invoke the special
powers act of the first new Catholic parish in
my diocese of Brooklyn since 1972, one in which
I am in charge with the rank of bishop. Bishop
Breslin.
I say bishop and not cardinal because I like the
sound of Bishop Breslin. Just say it once and
you know who's in charge. The big guy, Bishop
Breslin. Kneel with your back straight and I'll
give you my blessing. I cannot abide people
slumped onto the pews like they're riding the
subway.
I qualify for the rank of bishop because I'm not
a pedophile.
In this match between Bishop Breslin and his
religion and the old, established church, let me
tell you something: The Other Guys Are the Joke.
And as bishop, I called my friend Danny Collins
up one day and told him that he was the
auxiliary bishop. He was extraordinarily
qualified. Certainly, he is no pedophile or
pimp. Let's get that out of the way. He does
know Latin and Greek.
"Do we have vestments? I have no money for
wardrobes," he said.
"No, Christ never had them."
"Good. You're not going to have us swinging a
can of incense around?" ... read full excerpt from The Church That Forgot Christ ebook