Religious satire is dead

Today we have three case studies proving that religious satire is dead.

The Archbishop of Greater London

See? I'm a real bishop. I've got my own mitre!

I am grateful to Archdruid Eileen for reminding me about the Most Reverend Jonathan Blake, Presiding Archbishop of the Open Episcopal Church (also indirectly to the Telegraph, which mentioned him in a rather dumb piece on the Lord's Prayer ban, and then heavily edited the piece when people started laughing). Most Rev. Blake was formerly an Anglican, but according to his website he decided to pioneer independent ministry, conducted a wedding underwater, published For God’s Sake Don’t Go To Church, nailed 95 Theses to Canterbury cathedral (what an original idea!), etc. etc.

He also sued Associate Newspapers for claiming that he was not a true bishop. You can read more about his history in an old piece by Damian Thompson (who he?)

Picture of his cathedral not available, so here's the next best thing.

The costumed holy man has written his own Lord's Prayer, as long as 3 years ago. Apparently, Christ's teaching is a bit old-fashioned now, and Greater London's finest mind was needed to express what He ought to have said.

By removing all references to God, ++GreaterLondon is surely onto a winner here, and I hope to hear his prayer performed in cinemas nationwide.

May Love be revered
May Unity come
Good will be done
That earth may evolve into heaven
May we work hard today for our daily bread
And may our sins be forgiven
As we forgive those
Who have sinned against us
And may we not fall into temptation
But be delivered from evil
For we believe in justice, truth and peace
For ever and ever
Amen

Actually, that reference to "heaven" is a bit jarring, and could be offensive. Any chance of a rewrite there, your Grace?

The Briery Retreat Centre

For all your sacred circle-dancing needs.

This retreat centre is in Ilkley, the place with the moor, and is apparently a Catholic place, run by the Sisters of the Cross and the Passion. However, they do offer themed retreats, which may be of interest to others, such as pagans.

I was particularly taken by this:

Enneagrem Weekend

Friday evening until Sunday after lunch for those with no previous knowledge of the Enneagram. On this course, the nine spaces will be explored through a variety of ways. By the end of the weekend, people will have gained sufficient understanding to choose which personality type they belong to.

I'd love to know which personality type I belong to. It's like those quizzes you get on Zimbio. You know, "Which Star Wars Character / Doctor Who Monster / German Cardinal / Nasty Disease are you?" (I'm Count Dooku, the Yeti, Cardinal Marx, and Malaria, as it happens.)

Spiritual nourishment from an enneagram.

So, after being blessed by the good Archbishop, I am planning to make my way to Ilkley and embark on a Catholic voyage of self-discovery. I may also extend my self-knowledge by finding out which nasty-thing-that-people-tread-in I am.

The Diocese of Salford

Can there really be a diocese based in Salford, a suburb of Manchester? Apparently, there is, and it includes the parish of St Mary in Eccles, which is well-known to be a place for very saved people to worship.

But then we see this news item: Bishop John Arnold (possibly a real bishop) wants to halve the number of parishes. +Arnold forgot to mention that the downgrading of Salford will also result in his own downgrading from Bishop - say, to the rank of Pawn.

But, if Salford really exists, and if Eccles is really part of it, and if there is really a possibility that +Arnold is putting in a bid for the Arthur Roche church-closing award, then all we can say is:

Save Eccles!

New Encyclical eagerly awaited

Corinth, 55 A.D.

Next week sees the publication of a new encyclical, provisionally entitled 1 Corinthians; since the Holy Father (Peter) is rather busy with audiences, travels, and photo-opportunities at the moment, it is believed that the encyclical has been mostly drafted by a very senior colleague, probably Cardinal Paul.

Cardinal Paul, with the draft encyclical.

So what shall we see in the new encyclical? Will it refer to climate change on the Sea of Galilee, to the man who sowed a crop of wheat only to find that his enemy sowed biofuels among it, or to wind farms near Jerusalem? No, of course not, this is the Catholic Church, and the purpose of the encyclical is to save souls, not to argue about energy policies.

We have learned that Cardinal Paul is not too keen on Christians taking other Christians to law, even if they are accused of heresy in each other's blogs (e.g. making schoolboy blunders such as saying that the Holy Spirit is a girl). We may also expect that the encyclical will be very strict on immorality, probably with a strongly hostile reference to the recent same-sex marriage referendum in Corinth.

Catherine Pepinster, Elena Curti, Tina Beattie, and Timothy Radcliffe.

Readers of the Tablet will also be dismayed to learn that women are encouraged to cover their heads in church and to SHUT UP. That means you, Catherine. And you, Tina.

Cardinal Paul will also entertain us with little snippets of news from his past life: for example, did you know that when he was a child, he spoke as a child, he understood as a child, and he thought as a child? But that when he became a man, he put away childish things? In fact he gave most of them to Cardinal Kasper.

Eccles doll, now in the possession of Cardinal Kasper.

We are expecting to see a final ruling on the big question of our times: Is Faith, Hope, or Charity the best of the virtues? We have been unable to get a peek at the encyclical, but our religious affairs correspondent, St Damian the spectator, has heard from sources close to Cardinal Paul that the answer will be "Hope".

Whatever happened to the Faith Commission and Hope Commission?

So what is the purpose of this encyclical, apart from the usual one of allowing senior clergy to pretend that people actually care what they think? Cardinal Paul says that the document is not meant to make people feel ashamed but to "admonish" them as beloved children. Well, not me of course, but you might want to change your ways a little...

Je suis Capet

Today, January 21st, is the anniversary of the murder in 1793 of Louis Auguste de France, King Louis XVI, known to his enemies as Citoyen Louis Capet. Curiously, the poor man had not been drawing cartoons of Mohammed, and was not killed by Islamic terrorists. Possibly, he had been sketching Robespierre, and in any case it was the secular state that bears responsibility for his death. That basically means the chaps who are in power now.

Louis XVI.

I tried to contact President "Flanby" Hollande via his Twitter account @fhollande, to ask him for details of today's "Je suis Capet" march in memory of his dead king, but he did not reply. Probably, he was out on his motorbike, chasing some morceau sur le côté as the French so poetically put it. If he comes back to me on this, I'll let you know.

"Je suis Louis. Vous êtes Marie Antoinette, si vous voulez."

Ah yes, his widow, Marie Antoinette, who was killed 9 months later. Her son, Louis XVII of France, was murdered two years later, at the age of ten. This, the French assure us, is called Liberté, égalité, fraternité, and therefore a GOOD THING. Mind you, they have a national anthem which is all about filling up ditches with impure blood, so what do they know?

Marie Antoinette probably never said "Let them eat cake," or even "Qu'ils mangent de la brioche." I suspect that what the good lady preferred was Eccles cakes. Can it be any coincidence that James Birch's shop on the corner of Vicarage Road in Eccles began selling small, flat, raisin-filled cakes in 1793, the same year that Louis and Marie-Antoinette were killed? I rest my cake, er, case.

Waiting for an Eccles cake!

Back to Louis XVI. He was a good Catholic, and was described as a martyr by Pope Pius VI. Perhaps he should be canonized, but this seems unlikely to happen now. Unless Pope Francis takes another aeroplane trip and slips in an off-the-cuff canonization: yes, that could easily happen. You read it here first.

J.S. Capet Eccles.

Saved person of the year

Brother Eccles, an obscure religious blogger from England, today declared himself delighted with the news that Time magazine had nominated him as their Saved person of the year.

The cover of Time magazine.

In winning this award, Eccles had to overcome stiff competition from other nearly-as-saved persons, such as Pope Francis (a well-known Catholic), Father John Zuhlsdorf (author of Fac meam diem - a guide to liturgical shooting), and Michael Voris (famed for his catchphrase "Of course, I could be wrong...")

"These men are dangerous - especially the guy in the middle."

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In other news, it has been reported that a man seen on television worldwide, apparently communicating in sign language, was in fact hoaxing everyone, in that none of his gestures made the slightest sense. What was startling was that he had been allowed to carry on producing gibberish for so long without being challenged.

Pretending to pass on a serious message.

Who advises the Pope?

Marco Tosatti has written an interesting piece for Vatican Insider, giving the names of those people to whom Pope Francis talks and listens. However, the article is implausible from beginning to end - nobody with any sense ever listened to Piero Marini - and we are happy to provide a corrected list.

Tony Flannery.

Tony Flannery has long known that he was right all along, and the rest of the Catholic church in grievous error. The author of many books, such as Why I excommunicated Pope Benedict, Enda Kenny - man or God? and Come back to Me: my invitation to the Catholic Church. As a Redemptorist, Flannery is subject to the three vows of poverty, chastity and obedience (no, really). By bringing him back into the inner circle, can Pope Francis be signalling a change of direction?

Damian Thompson of the Telegraph.

One of the first questions a pope asks himself is, "Where can I get good custard?" and fortunately Pope Francis can now draw on the expertise of the Telegraph's custard-crazed ferret. Since Damian is also able to advise on cupcakes, Bach, addiction, and the best way to stop Cardinal Murphy-O'Connor hanging around making a nuisance of himself, he is rapidly becoming indispensable.

The Spirit of Vatican II.

Pope Francis does of course have a hotline to Heaven, but his first point of contact is Loftus, the Spirit of Vatican II. This angelic being explains to him all the things that were not actually written down in the Vatican II documents, or even agreed, but which were "in the spirit". Pinocchio Masses, replacing Gregorian chant by Estelle White's Moses I Know You're The Man and liturgical dancing - all these were what almost-Saint Pope John XXIII had in mind as urgent priorities when he called the Council.

Boris Johnson.

The Pope has a number of secular advisers, whose job it is to help him with public relations, to avoid gaffes, and to speak his words carefully, bearing in mind that they will be repeated and interpreted by people of all shades of opinion. These advisers include Boris Johnson, Prince Philip and Gordon Brown. As a result, we are unlikely to see the Pope stuck on a zipwire, asking Archbishop Philip Tartaglia "How do you keep the natives off the booze long enough to go to Mass?" or referring to bigoted women.

Catherine Pepinster.

Marginalised under Pope Benedict XVI, Catherine Pepinster of the Tablet now plays a valuable role in telling Pope Francis what he actually said. An off-the-cuff remark that perhaps now is not the time for the Church to begin burning homosexuals becomes, after a little interpretation, a firm pledge that the pope will soon be welcoming "gay" bishops and their partners. Similarly, the Pope's comment that he was kept awake by a crying baby when he slept in his humble apartment at the Hotel Casa Santa Marta (5 stars) becomes a promise that the Catholic Church will soon change its mind on abortion.

Owen Jones.

Owen Jones of the Working Classes (seen above with a bottle of working-class champagne) is there to help the Pope avoid the extravagance and pomp of his predecessors. With his deprived background (Oxford University and the Independent), Jones is the ideal person to help Pope Francis with his "humility" campaign. "The party's over," he says, "or at least we're running low on champagne!"

Eccles.

Eccles, seen here with a liturgically-correct (he claims) green biretta, is the ideal person to consult if one wants to be saved. Pope Francis was already a regular reader of his blog, and met him in Rome at the time of the last conclave, disguised as a cardinal. Eccles's instructions are clear: Tell me what saved popes do, and he is already formulating an action plan.

The Gay Murder Debate

From the blog of Father Z, author of "I'm a St Mark's Man" and "Cannon Law Made Simple".

Say the black, do the red, and eat the orange.

Should homosexuals be allowed to commit murders, when such conduct is forbidden to heterosexuals? Sometimes their crimes don't get any publicity, do they? Try Googling "Jack the Ripper", a notorious heterosexual murderer, and you´ll find there are millions of hits. But try Googling "Htarfogh Jukjlpop", a "gay" murderer from Latvia, and you'll find hardly any mention of his crimes!

At the end of Mass last Sunday, I heard two of the congregation - probably homosexual - talking. "Fancy a takeaway?" said one. "I could murder a Chinese or an Indian," said the other. "Or how about something Italian? A pastor maybe?" [This bit goes in black bold square brackets because it's where I needed a lie down.] Everyone talks about Custer's last stand against the Native American Indians, but do they mention gay Catholics attacking pastors? [Now would be a good time to scratch your ear if you feel like it - remember, say the black and do the red!]

General Custer - persecuted for not being "gay".

Remember St Paul's letter to the Roman Catholics? "It has come to my attention that some of my brethren have been indulging in unnatural sexual practices and sometimes murder. Be sure that the Lord doth not approve. By the way I am sending you a parcel of Mystic Monk coffee, as an aid to digestion and virtue."

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From the blog of Damian Thompson, once described as a "custard-crazed ferret".

Damian Thompson.

Father Z's blog shows the most disgusting nasty vile disgraceful homophobia that I have seen since Brother Eccles mocked the late Soho Masses on his own blog. May I point out that on the Telegraph blogs we have 200 gay bloggers, and I do not know of any who are murderers! Also, I think you'll find that it was General Custard, and not Custer, who was such an enemy of the Indians.

A close personal contact in Rome, Signora Odone, who cleans the papal washrooms, has kept her ear to the ground, and she assures me that Catholic teaching on the rights of homosexuals to commit murder is sure to evolve.

Father Z's ranting reminds me of the worst excesses of Adolf Hitler. Which is a cue for an amusing story: when Hitler heard of the defeat at Stalingrad, he went mad and started biting the carpet. But, his staff told us, "He always made sure that he had plenty of custard on it!"

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A deacon writes.

Eccles is getting at me again, I see, from the references to Hitler, above. Call me the Deacon from Hell, mock me all you want, but spare my family, and above all spare my pet goldfish, Adolf.

Adolf, a goldfish in good standing.

After a campaign of stalking and harassment some brilliant detective work, I am finally ready to reveal the true identity of Eccles! It is a town somewhere to the south-west of Manchester. And he thought he could keep this a secret!