Once upon a time, the king convened a great synod of all the parachurch ministries, and because the times were troublous, they all of them came. WildLife Youth Stampede was there (WYS), the Gospel Blimp Organization (GBO), and IIMEI (If It Moves, Evangelize It) and many others like that — yea, all the staff members of multiple organizations assembled in the Great Hall in their fifties and in their hundreds. But the leadership of all the parachurch ministries fell naturally to the seminaries, the most ancient and respected among these parachurch organizations — the Ur-parachurch, if you will. Some of them were almost a hundred years old. And of course, the leadership of the seminaries fell to Bestminster Best. (Unfortunately, because of a scandalous dalliance with obedient and living faith, Bestminster Beast had not been invited.)
Because of this, the spokesman for the good Bestminster stood before the great congregation, and spake thus, in the presence of the king.
“Oh, king, as you know, the land is filled with teeming heresies, with the pox, and with many other things of icky countenance. We can do nothing about the latter two (sorry!), but with regard to the first, we beseech you to decree that responsibility for orthodoxy be transferred to us. For we ought to be, as it saith somewhere, the pillar and ground of the truth. The Church has not exercised leadership in this, and has buried its talent in a napkin. So we dug it up. Can we have it?”
The king, whose name was Assensus, raised his scepter. “Okay,” he said. At this the assembly all broke into uproarious laughter — it was just the sort of thing that King Assensus was always saying.