There was a padre on my all-arms parachute course. He was very Holy, always making the soft answer that turneth away wrath, never getting into an argument, got knocked down in seconds in the "milling", always helping others, volunteering to carry their kit in Wales, etc etc etc.
He kept it up during the parachuting phase at Abingdon, until the night jump.
Someone behind him in the stick, heavier and descending faster, got his boots right into the middle of the Padre's canopy which then partially collapsed.
As the Padre disappeared rapidly earthwards the sky was rent with dreadful profanities from the Holy lips. "Praise the Lord", we all thought, "he's human after all. If he survives he'll be a better person". He did, and he was.
To get back to the point of the thread, he was, of course, a Roman Catholic. An Anglican would not have known the words used by the RC Padre.