Letter #29 from a Protestant minister. (Thoughts of bigamy?)

We had not heard from our dear friend, Pastor Travis T. Pitstop, for several weeks.  The last we heard, he was very involved with counseling Justina Pitt, the incredibly wealthy widow of Wade Pitt.  Justina Pitt was so thankful for his counseling that she bought him a brand new Porsche.  As he found out more about Justina Pitt and the way she lived, he thought she might be persuaded to put a new roof on his Padded-Pew Perkmistianist church.  And, he might get her to pay for an upgrade to his manse so that he could marry Clergyperson Rayetteanne Oscar-Mayer and the two could live there.  Things seem to have changed.

Dear Catholic Fundamentalism:

I am happier than I have ever been.  For the first time in my life, I have no financial worries.  None.  Nada.  Zip.  As I have gotten to know Justina Pitt, the incredibly wealthy widow of Wade Pitt, the joys of having a lot of money are becoming clear to me.  “You poor thing.”, she tells me when she sees how little money I have.  “Let’s go shopping!”

The joys of shopping with her are incredible.  What an experience!  When we go into a store, people fight to wait on us.  They fight!  When she bought us our his n’ her Rolexes, I thought the people behind the counter were going to climb over each other to get to us!  They knew Justina Pitt!

Everywhere we go, it’s the same!  I have actually seen waiters in restaurants order people to leave a table because they knew Justina liked it!

No more clothes off the rack in some smelly basement for me.  No more grubbing through the church rummage sale for socks, underwear, and handkerchiefs.  Now, I have a dozen tailored suits.  Handmade shoes that actually fit!  Several  hats.  Hats!  Really!  And, most amazing of all, a little box with a revolving gizmo to hold all the expensive watches Justina has given me.  They have to be rotated back and forth so their springs don’t wear out, or something.  That little box just hums away, sort of reminding me how far I’ve come.

Frankly, I’m beginning to feel as if I’ve outgrown my congregation.  When I see how drab and dowdy the women there are, I can’t help but have a hard time deciding:  do I want to help them, or get away from them?

I still see Ministerella Rayetteanne Oscar-Mayer.  I enjoy our intellectual conversations, especially about theology.  But, since I’ve been seeing Justina Pitt, I think some of my old chats with Rayetteanne were, well, boring.  I mean, who really cares if our pews are plain or padded?  Who really does care?  The only thing we still have in common is disliking Catholics.  “Those Catholics think they’re so much better.  They take vows of poverty and chastity, and, well, I’ve forgotten what else their priests do, or don’t do, but we’re just as good as they are.  We are good people.” Pastoress Rayetteanne Oscar-Meyer and I still tell each other.
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After being around Justina Pitt, I think that a couple of those vows are really ridiculous!

They think they’re better.  That’s why I really don’t like you Catholics.  Neither does Rayetteanne.  Neither does Justina Pitt.  “They’re always making us think we’re second-rate, or something, just because we’ve had the courage to build our own stairway to Heaven.” is how Justina Pitt puts it.  When you see a thought that profound, you see how wonderful a woman she is!

She is not only beautiful, and incredibly wealthy, but she’s very smart, too!  I should take her and Ministerella Rayetteanne Oscar-Meyer out for dinner, some time.  No telling where that might lead.  No telling at all.   The three of us might really get along well. Really well.

Your friend,

Pastor Travis T. Pitstop

We passed Pastor Pitstop’s letter around.  “He’s in more trouble than he realizes.  And, he doesn’t know it.” was our unanimous conclusion.  “He is riding for a fall.”

 

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