Bread of Heaven

"Thanks be to god!"

The Episcopalian General Convention and Bake Sale opened with a pump of the denomination's secret handshake, and the hip performance of a rip-roaring version of the bunny hop.

The limbered conventioneers then rolled up their sleeves, fortified themselves with a stiff brandy, settled down to business and elected Nevada tree-hugger and gay & lesbian-blesser Katharine Jefferts Schori as the controversial denomination's first female Grand Pooh-Bah.

Huzzah!

Episcopalian "flat earth" conservatives, still stung by the church's 1976 decision to ordain women, and by subsequent diversification efforts, thumbed their noses at the latest, leftward heave ho, and promised to identify and blackball "Jeff Scho" supporters from all the best cocktail parties and alumni club presidencies.

When contacted in the U.K. and asked whether or not he believed biblical scripture prevented the ordination of women, homosexuals and other nervy degenerates to Grand and Lesser Pooh-Bah status, the Anglican Church's Right Honorable Reverend XXX, III, stated that such a precedent indeed existed.

He also hinted that beloved American golfer Phil Mickelson lost the U.S. Open due to his left-handedness, "Which we all know is the mark of Satan."

The RHR XXX, III, also revealed concerns about Rev. Jefferts Schori that he claimed to be more important than her gender or embracement of gays.

"We understand that Rev. Jefferts Schori, prior to her ordination, worked as an oceanographer. Since viewing candid Internet photos showing her prancing about wearing a bright, red wool cap, we have every reason to believe that she may be not only a Francophile, but also a dues paying Cousteau Society member--behavior totally unacceptable to the Church of England."

Only time will tell if this historic, or rather, "herstoric" election will lead to international schism.

History occasionally leaves us with hurtful physical reminders of controversial actions.

Such is the case regarding Bicentennial Park's Confederate Soldier Memorial, a plain, large monument bearing the sentiment, "Least we forget. Least we forget."

Although the marker is visible from the road, its dedication isn't legible unless one walks through the park, so its purpose is largely concealed. It's certainly not a neofascist shrine, and is mainly visited by dogs on their daily strolls or the odd Frisbee throwing student.

Since I pass by the monument at least twice a day, I quickly found myself contemplating its place in the modern world. It doesn't seem to be a glorification of slavery, so why the fuss?

I guess because Williamsburg, as lovely and cultured as it is, seems to harbor, in my opinion, long-held racist tendencies. And somehow, for some unfair and irrational reason, to me the monument seems to represent the tip of an iceberg. It stands there, silent, while underneath lies something deep and hidden.

But, as is usually the case, time softened my negative feelings about the marker. When I read its words and thought about all the dead, I began to see it more as a reminder of the horrors of war and not as a controversial conversation piece.

Still, before every Memorial Day, when members of the Sons and Daughters of the Confederacy visit the monument, and drape it in Confederate flags and flowers, I'd get a bad taste in my mouth.

So I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised when von Nanstein and I reached the park one morning prior to Memorial Day, and discovered that the Confederate Memorial had fallen victim to a graffiti attack.

It stood covered in swastikas and foul language and messages directed to the local constabulary ("pigs") and I guess we Caucasian citizens ("hypocrites").

Do you think the event triggered any meaningful conversation (other than between myself and the police dispatcher)?

No.

Someone came and scrubbed-off the graffiti as best could be done (faint traces can still be read); then the following day, the Sons and Daughters arrived and festooned the poor monument with its annual array of defunct flags and red, white and blue garland.

At least the Episcopalian conventioneers are communicating, and, one hopes, respecting the past while evolving into the future.

At this point, all we Williamsburgonians can do is sit and hope for a visit from fertile international statespersons Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. Maybe they can achieve peace and harmony right here in the 'Burg.

Well, one can dream.

Huzzah!