For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, not to mention the damn fine Ofsted report, and Lord knows this is bad, but led into temptation? You betcha…
Friends of ours have a three-year-old. They also have a very good local school. Exceptionally good, in fact. So good that last year it was so oversubscribed that it accepted pupils from as far away as 26 metres, but not 27.
Chances are, then, that our friends' son is not getting in, given their home is a frankly absurd 80 metres away.
New avenues have had to be sought. What other schools are within walking distance? When I needed a neighbour, they might have asked, were you there? Were you there? Yes, yes, you were. And the creed and the colour and the name don't matter, because your exam results are proof enough that the Lord might work in mysterious ways, but he sure as heck gets the job done.
Only problem: it's quite rigorous is this other school. Rigorous in checking that the parents are the right creed. Which is to say, do they go to church, specifically the one to which the school is physically attached?
Well, yes. Yes, they do. Now. Formerly lapsed, now Dawkins botherers. O Happy Day!
So, all fine and dandy. Their fellow parent-converts have had their acceptance forms signed off by the vicar, presumably delighted by attendance at his services. But our friends? They just can't: too embarrassed (for which read, ashamed) to ask.
The Lord giveth… and the Lord taketh away.