Somebody's just crop-sprayed the vicar. Again.

Spring is here! As the sunlight plays across the trees, and the farmers begin to plough the fields, I am reminded of my previous career in horticulture, and the regular theological altercations which would take place between the tractor drivers and the vicar. 

The vicar was of the opinion that, despite the vicarage backing on to some of our fields, he really oughtn't be doused in agricultural chemicals on a regular basis. The tractor drivers' (rather persuasive) argument was that their job was to spray the crops, and the vicar's job was to pray. The tractor drivers were just doing their job. If God hadn't wanted the vicar to be crop-sprayed, God would have made sure that the vicar hadn't been in the vicarage garden at that precise moment. Since that wasn't the case, it was quite clear to the tractor drivers that the vicar hadn't been doing his job of praying properly, and it was no fault of theirs. The vicar was generally not amused.

Ah, happy days. There's times I miss that job.