• Communion rituals unfairly exclude coeliac disease sufferers
• lost faith in natural family planning after tenth pregnancy
• tired of being solicited for contributions every papal election season
• can’t believe in a god who would condemn “Top Chef” Season 3 favorite Dale
• don’t understand why children of “annulled” marriages don’t become illegitimate
• Catholicism false

Which is why I’m skeptical of the new Catholic ad campaign, which doesn’t seem to address any of these:

“In this world filled with chaos, hardship and pain, it’s comforting to know that some things remain consistent, true and strong,” an announcer says. “If you’ve been away from the Catholic Church, we invite you to take another look. . . . We are Catholic. Welcome home.”

On the other hand, if you’re one of the handful of people who left the church searching for a religion where you get to sit in an airplane hangar after you die and watch a movie showing all of your old haircuts, some of your worst pecadilloes, and the time you had sex with a blonde teenager in a cheap motel, then this new ad campaign is for you:

(Although Mormon ad campaigns have been similarly ineffective, at least they were savvy enough to cast the always-watchable Alfonso Ribeiro.)

But, historians argue, it has been forty years, making it just the right time to reconsider Woodstock as a “spiritual” experience:

“Spirituality may not be the first thing people associate with Woodstock,” says Fornatale, who recently talked about his book at the Museum at Bethel Woods, situated on the site of the festival. “But young people were searching for an identity and for a meaning that they found there that weekend.”

Fornatale sees the festival as a massive communion ceremony featuring hymns like Amazing Grace and Swing Low, Sweet Chariot performed by Arlo Guthrie and Joan Baez, sermons by musical prophets the likes of Sylvester Stewart of Sly and the Family Stone, and a modern-day re-enactment of Jesus’ miracle of the loaves and fishes exhibited in the communal ethos of festival goers who shared food with hungry “brothers and sisters.”

My memories of the event revolve more around $4 bottles of water and $12 mini-pizzas, which I certainly don’t remember transsubstantiating into the blood and flesh of Christ, although things are a little bit hazy from the brown acid, which I heard might have been bad.

What’s more, these historians argue, the aesthetic permissiveness of the festival helped lay the groundwork for a new generation of “cool Christian” preachers:

Now the unbuttoned look is the norm for megachurch pastors such as Rick Warren. “No one questions that a burly fellow who stands up front with a beard and a Hawaiian shirt can speak prophetically about the Gospel message,” said Oppenheimer. “That’s not something that would have happened in the 1950s or 1960s.”

So, in addition to all the other things that filthy hippies deserve blame for, we need to add Rick Warren. Thanks, jerks!

Now, Priests aren’t supposed to have girlfriends, and also the Catholic Church doesn’t recognize divorce, which got Cutié doubly in trouble. Instead of waiting around for a nun to beat him senseless with a ruler, he instead joined the Episcopal church, where he delivered his first sermon this morning:

The former priest received a standing ovation and told several jokes, quipping at one point that “my stuff is in storage.”

Thanks to a favor I once did for the Archbishop of Canterbury, I got a sneak peek at Cutié’s joke-filled opening monologue:

Finally, Father Oprah has come back to Anglicanism. [pause for laughter] Now, I know what some of you are thinking: Father Oprah’s just here for the lonely, divorced women. And I’m not going to bear false witness [pause for laughter], some of your divorcees estan muy buenas! [pause for laughter]

But it’s also a huge relief not to have to believe in transsubstantiation anymore. I mean, I can believe that someone could turn crackers into toffee [pause for laughter] or wine into sangria. [pause for laughter] But turning them into the flesh and blood of Jesus? That’s kind of gross!

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve got nothing against people wanting to get flesh and bodily fluids in their mouths … especially when the people are hot divorcees! [pause for laughter] And especially when the flesh and fluids are mine! [pause for laughter and hoots] But crackers can’t turn into flesh. Again, crackers can’t turn into flesh. So ladies, next time you want to get your mouth on some “divinity,” you talk to Father Oprah, because [points at crotch] ain’t no crackers down there! Am I right, gentlemen? [pause for "woof, woof, woof" noises from male parishioners]

Also, I’ve got to say, it’s somewhat of a relief not to have to take marching orders from the Pope anymore. He’s definitely a smart man, there’s no doubt about that, but all that goose-stepping was giving me muscle cramps! [pause for laughter] And how much bratwurst can one cardinal eat? [pause for laughter] I swear, every time there was a conclave in Rome, I was shitting pig intestines for a week! [pause for laughter] One of my flights back to Miami someone thought there were WMDs in the bathroom! [pause for laughter] Wurst-Mess Dookies! [long pause for sustained laughter]

Anyway, it’s great to be here. I look forward to years of productive relationships with your divorcees. [pause for laughter] I mean, with all of you. [pause for applause] God bless!