Lesbian Archbishop "Hurt" as Parishioners Leave Anglican Church in Droves Because of Her
If you’ve spent any time paying attention to the agonizing death throes of liberal Anglicanism, it should come as no surprise that its latest brilliant idea to staunch the bleeding involves not just ignoring Scripture, but intentionally thumbing their noses at it.
Meet Cherry Vann, the newly minted Archbishop of the Church in Wales. She brings impeccable progressive credentials to an already empty cathedral. She’s openly lesbian, proudly partnered, and dog-owning. Because apparently, the only possible way to resuscitate a dying institution is by doubling down on everything that put it on life support to begin with.
Imagine, if you will, a patient in the final stages of chronic institutional decay, lungs filling with fluid, heart sputtering, machines beeping mournfully as numbers flatline. A seasoned physician might recommend drastic treatment, surgery, or at least removing the toxins causing harm.
But the Church in Wales? No, they’re far too enlightened for such traditional wisdom. Their prescription for revival? Injecting the very theological poison that caused its demise in the first place.
Cherry Vann’s rise to archbishop is a declaration of outright contempt for the Bible itself. She’s proudly affiliated with the Open Table Network, an organization dedicated to affirming what God explicitly condemns. It’s not subtle, nuanced, or open to debate—it’s a full-throated endorsement of rebellion against biblical truth.
But why stop there? Perhaps next they’ll appoint a druid to head up evangelism. At this rate, nothing should surprise us.
As pews gather dust and parish halls echo emptily with the sound of woke virtue-signaling, this choice sends a very clear message to anyone left who still believes in historical, orthodox Christianity: “You aren’t wanted here.”
Church leaders have effectively nailed a “Closed for Business” sign to the cathedral doors, replacing the cross with a rainbow flag, and wondering aloud why no one’s lining up for membership cards.
They’ve mastered the art of making exactly the wrong decisions at precisely the right moments to guarantee accelerated decline, and Vann’s appointment is a carefully chosen accelerant tossed onto an already raging bonfire of irrelevance. These bishops aren’t fools in ignorance—they’re saboteurs of their own mission, dismantling their own historic creed brick by brick and calling it “progress.”
They lecture us endlessly about tolerance and inclusion, yet show astonishing intolerance to anyone daring to suggest that perhaps God meant exactly what He said. They demand unity but divide the church with breathtaking precision, slicing away orthodox theology and discarding it as old-fashioned rubbish, outmoded relics of an embarrassing past, as they preach love while loving sin, call for compassion while endorsing deception, and demand openness while slamming shut the door on truth.
Vann represents everything wrong with a church that has exchanged prophetic preaching for performative pandering. The archbishop doesn’t shepherd a flock—she cheerfully leads it off a cliff. It’s the theological equivalent of hiring a vegan butcher or an atheist evangelist. It’s absurd, ironic, and doomed to catastrophic failure from the outset.
Yet, the Church in Wales is no victim—it’s the perpetrator of its own destruction, happily dismantling its foundations while congratulating itself on being progressive, tolerant, and open-minded. There is nothing open-minded about deliberately rejecting historical orthodoxy in favor of contemporary idolatry.
One wonders if they’ll even bother with a funeral, or simply shrug and wander away once the last parishioner finally gives up hope and departs. The church has become the kind of place that celebrates its own irrelevance, crowning leaders who make headlines, not disciples. Who win applause from the world, not approval from God. And if Scripture tells us anything, it’s that churches which chase after worldly affirmation invariably find themselves abandoned by the very God they claim to serve.
It’s the final act in a tragic caricature. The curtain will soon fall, the lights dim, and silence will reign. And no amount of rainbow banners or progressive platitudes will resurrect what these theological vandals have deliberately demolished.
And now, as if on cue, parishioners are leaving…in droves. And rather than pausing to ask whether appointing a lesbian archbishop might have something—anything—to do with accelerating decline, we are treated to the well-worn lament that people are being “hurtful,” “hostile,” and insufficiently unified.