Catholics flee church when priest starts reading out Amoris Laetitia

On Sunday, worshippers at the church of St Daryl the Apostate fled in terror after becoming "triggered" by the homily of their priest, Fr Arthur.

Said one worshipper, Amy Rigid, who wishes to remain anonymous, "I thought we were going to have a simple homily about today's Gospel - the man with two idiot sons who couldn't make up their minds whether to work in the vineyard - when Fr Arthur started reading out passages from Amoris Laetitia."

Waiting for an idiot son to arrive in the vineyard.

"At first it was something totally bland, about how most loving families consist of a husband, a wife, 2.4 children, and a goldfish, but I could see where this was leading, and that Fr Arthur would pretty soon start talking about allowing unreformed serial killers to take Communion after a period of accompaniment and discernment."

Another worshipper, Ivor Dubia, concurred. "I fled in panic. Who knows what Fr Arthur would have done next? Quoted from the comedy theology of Massimo Faggioli?"

Have you checked that your beliefs are still Catholic?

"It was much easier last week, when Fr Arthur shouted 'Allahu Akbar!' and read out passages from the Koran about smiting the infidel. That's ecumenical, I can understand that. But quoting from ghost-written apostolic exhortations loosely based on what someone in the Vatican wished that the Synods on the Family had agreed... No, that's a step too far!"

Last night a party of worshippers went round to the Presybtery with a "filial correction" of Fr Arthur's errors, including claims that he was a bad-mannered old misery-guts. They were greeted with a bucket of water thrown out of the window, which suggests that there is still room for further dialogue.

"Next week's preacher will explain how to build a bridge out of toilet rolls and a rainbow chasuble."

Saint of the Week - St Antony of Spadaro

St Antony of Spadaro is a much-loved saint, and in many ways the opposite of his namesake St Antony of Padua. When people wish to lose objects - or even to pretend they never existed - they pray to St Antony of Spadaro, and if their prayers are answered, then the embarrassing items disappear and can be totally ignored.

A truly holy man.

A grateful customer, J. Bergoglio of Rome, writes:

I was severely embarrassed when four cardinals wrote a letter to me containing a list of five "Dubia", or embarrassing questions about Amoris Laetitia. However, I prayed to St Antony of Spadaro, and the letter miraculously disappeared as if it had never existed, and I was able to ignore it!

See! All your doubts have disappeared! Just like that!

Since the letter from the four cardinals clearly never existed, we can only speculate what the five Dubia might have been, but here are some likely guesses:

1. Are you still a Catholic?

2. We know you didn't write Amoris Laetitia, but have you actually read it?

3. Is a person in a three-way marriage involving one man and two women, who has murdered a previous wife, who keeps a sex slave in his cellar, and and who is now contemplating a "sex-change", while at the same time feeling an unhealthy attraction to his goldfish, allowed to take communion?

4. Can Jesuits be saved?

5. As cardinals we feel it is our duty to advise you, so will you please take our advice and put Cardinal Kasper in a padded cell?

"Just like that!" A devotee of St Antony of Spadaro attempts to make things vanish.

Another grateful customer, L. Baldisseri of Rome, writes:

Last year we held a synod whose purpose was to think of new ways of undermining family life. However, it was nearly sabotaged when five cardinals produced a book explaining Christian doctrine - which, we all realise, was made obsolete in the 1960s. They attempted to post their book to participants at the synod. However, I prayed to St Antony of Spadaro, and the books miraculously disappeared from the Vatican postal system (Cardinal Pat, with his black and white cat), never to be seen again! Thank you, oh thank you, St Antony of Spadaro!

Cardinal Pat of the Vatican postal service.

An interview with Cardinal Kasper

For many Catholics, Cardinal Walter Kasper, the Vatican's Prefect of the Congregation for Introducing New Heresies, is a Godlike figure. He must be, as otherwise how would he dare to contradict so much teaching from the Son of God Himself? We were determined to interview the man they call "St Wally the Absurd".

We made our way to his Vatican apartment "Dunprayin", and we were admitted by the butler, Tommy Rosica; in fact, Rosica initially tried to block our way, but a shrill cry of "All are welcome, Tommy! Give him Communion, whoever he is!" forced him to let us pass. We did not take Communion.

A scary disguise for Hallowe'en. Heresy or treat?

"How nice to see you, Eccles," said Kasper, as Rosica retired in order to practise martial arts on his "Cardinal Burke" punchbag. "Excuse my lying on the floor - I'm trying to see things from the cat's point of view today. May I offer you a mouse?"

I hastily declined and asked him about his latest claims following the publication of Amoral Lay-Teaching (a blockbuster written by the Pope, with additional material by Cardinals Baldisseri, Cupich, Danneels, Marx, Kasper, Nichols, and Schönborn; also Fr Thomas Reese SJ, Fr James Martin SJ, Fr Tony Flannery, Dame Tina Beattie, Sister Margaret Farley, Mr Joe Biden, Mr Tim Kaine, Prof. Hans Küng, Mr Michael Coren, Mr Ed Stourton, the man at the off-licence, and a very nice devil-worshipper we met at the sauna baths).

Namely, Kasper had decreed that it was not only possible for the divorced and remarried to take communion, but actually a great scandal if they didn't. "That is what we decided at the Synod," he explained, "and it supersedes all the teaching of the last 2000 years.

"Surely the Synod actually refused to agree that?" I asked.

Baal The late Cardinal Martini, who taught Kasper all he knows about orthodoxy.

"Look, if the writers of Amoral Lay-Teaching deliberately put in a footnote saying 'Don't worry about all that SIN nonsense, ha ha ha!' then surely that proves you wrong, Eccles?"

Kasper now got up from the floor. Sticking straws in his hair, pouring custard down his trousers, and painting his nose red ("I've got to go to Mass soon, and need to be properly dressed"), he referred me to his fifteen books on theology and Christology. My German is not very good, but I promised to try and make my way through his magnum opus, Eine Nürnberger Wurst mit Kartoffelsalat, bitte! which, he said, encapsulated the essence of his thought.

So, receiving a friendly parting kick on the backside from Rosica, I said farewell to the greatest theologian of this era, or indeed of any era.

Pope's April Fool's joke falls flat

Pope Francis is said to be "fuming with rage" after this year's official April 1st joke (a long-standing tradition among popes) was released on March 31st, and was therefore taken seriously.

According to the spoof announcement, the Pope's apostolic exhortation based on the Synod on the Family was to be called "Amoris Laetitia" ("The joy of making love" - in itself an obvious give-away), and to be presented by Cardinal Lorenzo Baldisseri, Cardinal Christoph Schönborn, and "a very nice couple I met in the pub" called Francesco and Giuseppina Miano.

When a joke misfires...

"Do you really think I'd trust Baldisseri near my apostolic exhortation?" asked Francis angrily. "He's been manipulating the synod ever since it started, and he still hasn't explained what he did with all those books that went missing."

There is a rumour that Baldisseri hid several hundred copies of the book in the attic above his bedroom, and one night they all fell through onto him when he was sleeping in bed...

Cardinal Baldisseri's attic, before the great collapse.

"And then Schönborn? Schönborn? The man whose own diocese is a basket-case of heresy and dissent?" continued Pope Francis. "Well, I tried to think of someone ludicrous to accompany Baldisseri, but Kasper's started talking to trees and Danneels is preparing to go in hiding, so I thought that suggesting a man who blesses homosexual partnerships would bring the house down!"

Cardinal Schönborn's Flying Circus.

"Then I added Sid and Doris Bonkers - or whatever their names are - just to make things look a little more plausible," concluded the Pope. "Someone suggested 'Kieran Conry and partner', but that was a step too far."

As a result of the announcement's being made on March 31st, rather than April 1st, it is being taken seriously by the Catholic Church, and Pope Francis fears it is too late to rescind it. "Still, I've got another good joke for April 2017," he concluded cheerfully.

Pope Francis thinking about next year's April Fool's joke.

The parable of the wheat and the tares

There was a man who sowed good cardinal seed in his field: among the numerous varieties planted there were Burkeus Cappamagnificus, a traditional American grain, Pellus Boomerangus, a robust Australian variety, and Mueller Fortis, one of the few reliable German plants; but there were other spiritually nourishing varieties too numerous to mention.

But then while men were asleep, an enemy came and sowed tares (cockle, darnel) among the wheat, and went his way.

Warning - contains nuts!

Among the poisonous grains were the German weed, Kasperus Absurdus, guaranteed to induce dizzy spells, Danneelus Pervertophilus, the toxic Belgian variety, not to mention the dreaded Baldisserius Liberraptor, and Marxus Stultusbarbus the hideous German creeper. And alas, there were many others.

So when the blade was sprung up, and had brought forth fruit, then appeared also the tares.

And the servants of the good man came to him and said, "Sir, did you not sow good seeds in the field? Where did the weeds come from?"

And he said to them, "An enemy has done this." And the servants said to him, "Do you want us to gather up the weeds?"

"No," said the man, "I have a better idea. We will allow both to grow until the time of the Synod, and then we will harvest them together."

Synod time!

"At the harvest, we'll gather the tares, and bind them into bundles for burning (the CDF tells me we're still allowed to do this); but the good wheat we'll keep. But just to make it more fun, we'll get the wheat and the tares to spend three weeks voting on which of them is the true harvest, and which the poisonous weeds."

We are not sure what happened next.

Wake up, Poli, I've got a nice cuttlefish for you!

During the 2013 papal conclave, I was invited to adopt a cardinal, and I was assigned Marc Ouellet, a generally orthodox and mostly-saved prince of the church. It was rather a love-hate relationship: I did my Christian duty and loved him - e.g. I sent him little gifts, such as Eccles cakes and old socks, and I made telephone calls at 4 a.m. to check that he was O.K. - and he obviously hated my attentions (telling me to jump in the Tiber).

Anyway, comes another crisis, comes another opportunity for Eccles to be helpful. We were invited to adopt a synod father. The idea seems to be that this time it's not a matter of pushing your man onto the throne of St Peter, more a matter of making sure he doesn't do any backsliding during the synod.

The lucky synod father - Mario Aurelio Poli.

So this time I was randomly assigned Mario Aurelio Poli, the Cardinal Archbishop of Buenos Aires, and successor of Jorge Bergoglio alias Pope Francis. Clearly, a man very much in the mould of the pope, which means that nobody really knows what he thinks about anything.

It could have been much harder - I know someone who was allocated Walter Kasper, and his response was "Crikey, there's a tall order." Whereas keeping my man Poli on track may just involve prayer, it seems that to stop Kasper from disgracing himself probably requires a full novena, a long period of fasting, and perhaps the use of incense and holy water - or it may be simpler just to handcuff him to his bed until the show is over. The same goes for Cardinal Danneels, except that we'd want to throw away the key.

Cristina Kirchner wonders who exactly it is she's talking to.

Anyway, I got in touch with Cardinal Poli, explaining that I would be dropping round for tea, and very wittily told him "Poli, put the kettle on!" Mysteriously, the telephone went dead at that point.

Well, it seems that Poli is pretty much guaranteed to, er, parrot the pope's views. However, since nobody seems to know what these are, this is not much help. Still, Mario, if you'd like to pop round for some spiritual nourishment, and a bit of wise advice from a saved person, I have found just the place for us to go for a drink.

No "liberal" or "modernist" beers, please!

The fable of the mediocre shepherd

Once upon a time there lived a group of shepherds, whose leader was a man called Vincent. These shepherds had the care of various flocks of sheep, having been told to guide them and keep them safe. However, there were never totally agreed on how this should best be done.

"I am the mediocre shepherd."

Now it came to pass that there was to be a World Shepherds' Conference, also known as a Synod, to which Vincent was invited. The shepherds were going to decide on the best way to keep their sheep saved. Some of the world's worst shepherds (many of whom had lost half their sheep to the wolves) would be there: old "Godless" Danneels of the Mafia Club, whose sheep usually found themselves at the bottom of a lake wearing concrete boots; "Lozza" Baldisseri, who did not want the shepherds to read books; "Rhino" Marx the wolf in shepherd's clothing; and so on.

A very important shepherd.

Vincent had his own ideas on how to look after sheep, which involved them getting involved in activities normally condemned in the Shepherds' Bible. However, in order to promote "honest dialogue" as a "process of discernment" - and lots of other phrases that weak leaders use when they can't rely on their own principles - he had a brilliant idea: ASK THE SHEEP HOW THEY SHOULD BE GUIDED.

"As a member of ACTA, I support Shepherd Vincent's initiative."

Replies flooded in from the sheep, as well as certain wolves, hyenas and jackals who thought their own votes would be helpful:

"Let the sheep wander freely into the swamps."

"Hold special "massings" of the sheep to which wolves are also invited."

"Do not feed the sheep on grass, but let them devour other sheep."

"Do you think that the horse's head in the Pope's bed will be persuasive, Wally?"

Anyway, Vincent was incredibly impressed by the wisdom of his sheep, although their views went totally against the advice given by the original Good Shepherd. He vowed to recommend these new ideas to the Synod. Meanwhile, some of the wiser sheep began to be very worried...

Pope Francis annuls all marriages

As a special gesture to celebrate the Year of Mercy, Pope Francis has declared that all marriages contracted by Catholics are now null and void. Fed up with handling numerous claims for annulment, the Holy Father has in characteristic style cut all the red tape and granted freedom to all previously-married couples.

A happy couple celebrate the Pope's decision.

As a special bargain offer, those couples who did not really want an annulment (believed to be a small minority) will be allowed to remarry free of charge.

Said one unhappy husband, Fred Cheese, "We've been together now for 40 years, and it don't seem a day too much. There ain't a lady livin' in the land as I'd swop for my dear old Dutch." However, his wife, Dutch Cheese, replied "Er, don't count your chickens, Fred. If we remarry you can start doing the cleaning, for a start."

It is not clear where this leaves the General Synod on the Family, as, from now on, there aren't any families. Once again the Pope has solved a knotty problem in his own unique style.

Rhino Marx in "A Week at the Synod"

It has been announced that the sole surviving Marx Brother, Cardinal Reinhard "Rhino" Marx, long regarded as one of the funniest of the team, is to star in a new film A Week at the Synod.

Those are my principles, and if you don't like them... well, I have others.

The basic plot of the film is that Rhino takes the part of Rufus T. Moneybags, the chairman of the German Bishops' Conference. He has become extremely rich as a result of a dodgy "church tax", and wishes to declare independence from the Catholic Church, citing the precedent of the great Martin Z. Luther. This will enable the German church to become even richer, and make up its own rules, such as rejecting all the traddy Christian teaching about marriage and the family.

In the words of Rhino: "Please accept my resignation. I don’t care to belong to any church that will have me as a member."

"There ain't no Sanity Clause for cardinals." Rhino with "Chico" Baldisseri.

Naturally, the repressive Roman Church, led by businessman Francis I. Pope, is opposed to the Moneybags "Go it alone" policy, but at the Synod Francis is told in no uncertain terms: "From the moment I picked up the Catechism until I put it down I was convulsed with laughter. Some day I intend reading it."

Time for reflection: Rhino and "Harpo" Kasper, the one with nothing useful to say.

Eccles verdict: the characters played by Marx, Baldisseri and Kasper are as ludicrous as any we have ever seen, but the plot is totally implausible. Watch out for veteran comic Tina Beattie in the "Margaret Dumont" role of the foolish old woman.

God threatens to sue Fr Rosica

From: Messrs Tort, Tort, Malfeasance and Tort, barristers and solicitors.

To: Father Tommy Rosica of the Salt and Vinegar Corporation.

Dear Father Rosica,

We have been retained by God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit (hereinafter referred to as the Trinity) in relation to various of your public pronouncements that have been judged to be false, defamatory, or both.

This is a preliminary notice, and our clients reserve the right to require your soul of you and send you to the Lake of Fire, without the necessity of any further warning.

These are some of your public statements to which we take exception:

Defamatory.

In particular, you did insult the Mother of Christ by describing the Holy Family of Nazareth as "irregular". Apart from charges of blasphemy, with which our clients will proceed when you reach the Day of Judgement, we should point out that you are bringing God the Son's Church into disrepute by trivialising the principle of Verbum Caro Factum Est, and you are undermining our clients' teaching on marriage as an indissoluble bond made between a man and a woman.

Disgraceful.

Furthermore, you did label Cardinal Burke and his associates, by implication, as "dissenters", for upholding Christian teaching. This again may be regarded as a direct attack on our clients in Heaven, who have incurred serious damage to their reputation and the probable loss of many souls as a result of your careless words.

Moreover, you did threaten a harmless blogger, Vox Cantoris, with legal action after he made critical comments about your activities. This also undermines the Christian^TM principles in which our clients have an interest. We are prepared to argue in court that the legal maxim of Loftus Hereticus Toleratus - whereby a well-known comedian can persuade some people to take him seriously no matter what he says - does not apply in your case.

Our clients are waiting to hear from you.

Your offences are all the more culpable, as you appear to be in a position of power and influence in the Vatican, and thus your words may be construed as carrying some sort of official endorsement from our clients. This you have never obtained, and although you have on several occasions attempted to address our clients by means of prayers, you have taken no notice of their response.

In short, our clients demand that you put a sock in it, Rosica.

Yours truly,
Nina Tort.

---

BREAKING NEWS. The Trinity's solicitors are also writing to Cardinal Baldisseri, concerning the theft of copies of a book authored by five senior cardinals, which was sent to all participants at last year's Extraordinary Synod on the Family. The book, "The New Testament", by Cardinals Matthew, Mark, Luke, John and Paul (with additional material by some trusted colleagues), was a complete answer to the fantasies of Cardinal Kasper. It is suspected that Cardinal Baldisseri wished to hide this book from synod participants, many of whom would not have read it.

"The New Testament? Never heard of it!"

A Christmas Carol

Martini was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The Catholic world was stirred but not shaken to hear that Martini, the "Commie Cardinal", had gone to meet his Maker, to tell Him where he had gone wrong.

Berscrooglio knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Berscrooglio and Martini were partners for I don't know how many years...

Cardinal Berscrooglio, living humbly.

(Get on with it, will you, Eccles, nobody wants to read an entire novella. When do the ghosts appear?)

All right then. Berscrooglio looked out of the window at the jolly Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate, as they processed towards St Traddy's Church in order to celebrate a Mass in the Extraordinary Form. "Bah! Humbug! Self-absorbed Promethean Neo-Pelagians" he sneered, and retired to bed.

Berscrooglio lay, half-awake, until the clock had struck midnight; then the curtains were drawn aside; and then, starting up into a half-recumbent attitude, Berscrooglio found himself face to face with the unearthly visitor who drew them.

"I am the Ghost of Synod Past," exclaimed the spirit, "also known as Vatican II. Come and see what we did!" The ghost took Berscrooglio back to the 1960s, to a vast meeting of the Great and Good. And Basil Loftus. There the Wise Fathers of the Catholic Church decided to follow the Spirit of the 60s, and encourage the faithful to become hippies. Well, actually they didn't, but somehow sex, drugs and rock-and-roll crept into the spiritual life of the Church soon afterwards.

"I, the Ghost of Vatican II, took most of the credit for this," explained the spectre. Every night in the Vatican there was a rumbling sound, as of an earthquake. It was an army of dead popes, all turning in their graves.

The Ghost of Synod Past.

Moving on quickly, now: the next night Berscrooglio was visited by the Spirit of Synod Present (or at least, only just past), which manifested itself as a smiling man with a fanatical expression on his face. "I am Kasper, the Spirit of Synod Present," said the grinning spectre. "I have come to change the church's teaching on the family; that of course includes homosexuality, divorce and adultery, which are jolly good things that can only make the family stronger. O Berscrooglio! Beware Burke! Send him to Africa, we don't take any notice of people down there. Or even as far as Malta will do."

The Ghost of Synod Present.

Berscrooglio woke at dawn with a shudder, but he knew that his torments would continue. Sure enough, when midnight arrived, a third horrific phantom slowly, gravely, silently, approached him. When it came near him, Scrooge bent down upon his knee; for in the very air through which this Spirit moved it seemed to scatter gloom and mystery. "Am I in the presence of the Ghost of Synod Still To Come?" he asked. "Strange Spirit, who art thou? Cormac? Vin? Tiny Tim Radcliffe? Surely not Catherine Pepinster or Tina Beattie?"

"I am all these, and none," said the Spectre. "My name is Legion, for we are Many. See how the Church fades away, as we make it conform with the world!"

The ghost of Synod Still To Come.

"Horrible! Horrible!" said Berscrooglio. "After all, Uncle Benedict was right - it is time for us to become religious again! It is not too late for me to repent - away with my giant Pinocchio puppets, my copy of 'Tango-for-Dummies', even my CD of 'Paul Inwood's Greatest Bath-Time Gurgles'!" Hurriedly dressing, he made his way through the early morning mist to the livestock market, where he bought the largest tiger you ever saw, and left it at Cardinal Kasper's door as a Christmas present.

A present for Cardinal Kasper.

"God bless us, every one!" said Berscrooglio. "Even Eccles!"

Is this the worst pope ever?

A re-post of something I wrote in 1494.

When cardinals meet in a conclave to elect a new pope, they are of course guided by the Holy Spirit - or at least the Spirit of Lateran II - or, failing that, by the Spirit of Cardinal Murfio Conna - and therefore there can be no such thing as a bad pope. So we should be reluctant to criticise Pope Alexander VI (Rodrigo Borgia).

Actually, he does look a little like Pope Francis.

Traditionalists among us fondly remember Pope Innocent VIII, with his powerful encyclical Summis desiderantes, a polemic against witchcraft that led to harsh criticism by Signora Cristina Beati in the Pastiglia.

Alexander is rather different. Already he is highly unpopular in Germany, where an 11-year old boy called Martin Luther has been arrested for scribbling "The Pope is a Schweinehund" on his church door. But even amongst adults there is disquiet as to some of the Holy Father's behaviour.

Graffiti at Wittenberg.

For a start, there are Alexander's views on family life. His recent Extraordinary Synod on the Family took a controversially liberal attitude to unconventional family arrangements. Indeed, it was attended by the pope's mistress, Vannozza dei Cattanei, together with numerous children. This sort of conduct may be tolerated in Arundel and Brighton, but is still considered inappropriate for Rome.

Vannozza dei Cattanei.

Alexander is also ruthless with his political enemies. Some have been exiled to the barren island of Malta, and there have been claims that in extreme cases the Pope is prepared to use poison. However, these are still only rumours. In any case, such minor eccentricities are surely outweighed by the pope's humble and charismatic nature! Who are we to judge?

How to be a popular Pope

In the spring of last year I received an urgent telephone call from Rome: "Eccles, I have just been elected Pope. I've done the 'Oh my goodness I never expected this' routine and the 'I'd like to thank my parents, my teachers, my auntie Carmen, my pet donkey Diego, and all the cardinals who voted for me' speech, and even the 'I love you all' bit. So what can I do now to become the most popular pope in history?"

It would be wrong of me to say who consulted me.

My client comes from South America, where the forms of worship are rather different from those in Europe and North America, for example. There it is considered de rigueur to give the Mass the air of a wild party - so Pinocchio puppets, tango dancing, dodgy footballers, angels on roller skates, etc. are all considered a necessary part of the liturgy, in a way that is rarely seen, for example, at the Brompton Oratory. Despite being Latin American, my anonymous friend is not a fan of Latin, and he would be quite happy to make Italian the universal language of the Catholic Church.

"Well, George," I told him (I call him George because I have known him since he was a humble cardinal). "The main problem popes have is that they are Catholic. As a result they get bad publicity in the liberal press. SEXIST SKY-FAIRY BELIEVER IN SILLY DRESS REFUSES TO ALLOW GAY PRIDE MARCH IN VATICAN - as the Tablet put it. You must become a liberal yourself."

"Did the Tablet really say that?" asked George.

"Yes, it was in Prof. Eamon Duffy's learned commentary on the Acts of the Apostles. Harsh words about St Peter, there."

Chilling out with Eamon Duffy (R).

"Now, what people don't like about popes is that they think they have a fairly comfortable lifestyle," I continued. "What can you do to counter that?"

"Comfortable?" asked George in amazement. "I have to go to two-hour masses in the middle of the night, I have to meet all sort of crazy people from lands where the Catholic Church is in disarray - have you met my stalker - he's a chap called Cormac - by the way? - and then I have to travel around the world and kiss airport runways when I land. Ugh."

"Still, you could dress more humbly than Benedict did. No papal fanon or red shoes - give them to the poor. Get down with the 'yoof' by wearing a papal baseball cap, tee-shirt, jeans and trainers. It works for the Anglicans."

Getting down with the yoof.

"Now, how about rewriting Christian teaching?" I suggested.

"I can't do that - I'm the pope!" said George. "It may be all right for German cardinals - they're basically Protestant anyway - but if I start taking a soft line on divorce, abortion, or homosexual acts, then I'll be eaten alive! Mundabor and Rorate Caeli will call me an anti-pope. Father Z will be perplexed. Father Hunwicke will say something learned and incomprehensible, but all his readers will know he's calling me a heretic. Even Damian Thompson will start criticising my hairstyle."

"Tricky, isn't it?" I agreed. "How about making a few off-the-record throwaway remarks that are obviously foolish, but which can be taken up as liberal soundbites? Ask 'Who am I to judge?' when some ghastly sin is mentioned. Have a go at self-absorbed Promethean neo-pelagianism - nobody knows what it is, but it sounds as if you are getting tough on traddies. For that matter, why not persecute some very devout but rather traditional order of friars? Tell them that unless they bring in clown masses toot sweet they will be closed down!"

Yo-ho-holy! A new look for the Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate.

"I know - I could hold a synod!" said George delightedly. "I'll spin it that we are rewriting the New Testament so that the more embarrassing parts of Christ's teaching can be quietly dropped. Then if one of those awkward customers like Burke and Pell starts complaining, I can deny it all and blame it on 'loopy' Kasper. By the way, I'm going to have to do something about Burke: he keeps accosting me in the Vatican tea-rooms and sneering 'Are you really the Pope? Oh good grief!' Now I can sack him!"

"Good thinking, Holy Mate," I said (I call him Holy Mate because we used to go drinking together). "Don't worry about offending orthodox Catholics - they would have preferred Benedict anyway, and besides they'll go to Mass whoever the pope is. Dumb down, take the Christ out of Christianity, add an N, and what have you got?"

George contemplated my brilliant wordplay for a moment, before replying "Inanity. Yes, what the world is looking for is a Pope of Inanity!"

Flannery in America

We are indeed privileged today to be able to print extracts from the travel diary of Tony Flannery, Redemptorist, founder member of the Association of Catholic Priests in Ireland, and general nuisance as far as the Vatican is concerned. Thanks to Flannery's unique powers of observation and deep insights, we learn things about America that nobody suspected until now!

Even more exciting than when Pope Benedict XVI visited!

Monday. Arrived at New York, which turns out to be a city in America, and not in Yorkshire after all. My first impressions are that New York is big - bigger than my home town of Ballydancer, and maybe nearly as big as Cork! Also, it is full of Americans, who speak American, which is very like English, but you have to chew gum while you're talking!

I was met at the airport by Sister Fred of the modernist order of "Nuns in the Taxi", which is in dispute with Vatican, just as I am!
"Hi, there!" she said. "You must be Father Flummery!"
"Flannery!" I replied.
"Oh is it? There's no need to be so rude, buster!"

We eventually sorted this out, and she said that the Nuns in the Taxi were all reading extracts from my new book in place of the Gospel at Mass. I was touched by this, although for some reason they think the book is called REVOLUTION. Perhaps that's the name they've given to the American edition!

One thing I should warn people who come to New York is that all the clocks are four or five hours slow! I pointed this out, but, just to annoy me, they refused to change them! Just like the Vatican! Anyway, I went to my hotel, the Heretic's Arms. For those who aren't seasoned travellers, I should mention that a hotel is a large building with bedrooms in it.

So far I am being treated like royalty - people keep trying to take photos of me in the shower!

The Nuns in the Taxi.

Tuesday: Still in New York. With an artist's eye for observation I have noticed that some of the buildings are quite high. Wait till I tell this to my brother Shameless, who runs the Fine Gael party!

A letter was delivered to my hotel, which shows that I have got the Vatican on the run!

Dear Mr Flummery,

Following the recent Extraordinary Synod on the Flannery, Pope Francis has asked me to invite you for lunch. I'm afraid we can't lay on anything special, so it will be our usual simple meal of soup, entrée, appetizer, hors d'oeuvres, fish course, main course, second main course, third main course, cheese, dessert, pudding, sweet, cake, afters, and perhaps an extra main course to finish off if we're still hungry. I hope you like shrimps, oysters, jellyfish, beef, lamb, goat, panda, camel, haddock, turbot, and dolphin, as we shall be having all of these - and more!

Yours ever, Tim Dolan, Supreme Grandmaster of the Order of St Patrick.

Lunch with a real cardinal!

"October is a very interesting time of year," I told Cardinal Dolan. "It is the time of year known as Autumn, or sometimes Fall. Did you ever notice that all the leaves fall off the trees at this time of year? The Vatican tries to keep this fact secret, but as I have been saying at the top of my voice for the last ten years, I WILL NOT BE SILENCED!"

Unfortunately, Cardinal Dolan did not reply to me, as he was chewing his way through a giraffe's neck at the time. This is the sort of rudeness I expect from the Catholic Church.

Wednesday: I am now in Philadelphia! I used to think that this was a word meaning "stamp-collecting", but it turns out to be another big city! I was interviewed by Radio Scalfari, which is a prestigious liberal talk radio station; it has hosted many distinguished theologians in the past, such as Margaret Farley, Hans Küng, Prof. Tina Beattie, and even Richard Dawkins! They recorded an interview with me over the telephone, and promised to broadcast it at 4 a.m. tomorrow, in the very popular "Insomniacs Only" slot, unless something more interesting turned up.

In the evening I had my first speaking engagement, at the prestigious 15th and Market Bus Shelter. I spoke to a massive crowd (too many to count, but approximately 3 people) about how the Catholic Church must adapt to a changing world. I didn't see anyone from the Vatican there, but I am sure that they had sent along a spy. I WILL NOT BE SILENCED!

Long queues of Catholics waiting to hear me speak!

Probably NOT to be continued.

Eccles isn't made welcome in church

I gotta apollogise for this post as my secretarries, Ecclesiam and Ecclesiis, is both away todday, so there may be the odd typpo and spelin erorr that creeps into this post. I think we're OK so far, but figners crossed...

Fr Phil of the church of St Daryl the Apostate, at the Hallowe'en Mass.

On Sunday I went to Mass at the very libberal church of St Daryl the Apostate, takin with me my big bruvver Bosco - him wot is even more saved than Pop Francis - and my dere Anti Moly, wot is not at all saved and don't want to be. Bosco only goes along so that he can interrupt the preist by sayin "You is not saved, only I is saved," and Anti Moly just finds the church a conveneint place to slubmer peacefully once she has emptied her bottle of gin.

Bosco and me when we was kids. I is the one bein chaste.

So we gets into the church, and Fr Phil welcomes us at the door, sayin, "Ullo, Eccles, is you gay? If so, you gotta special welcome todday, cos that's what the Snyodd decided. Or if you is cohabitin and never got round to marryin, then Cradinal Nickles says that's wonderful, and he wishes all Cathlics was like you." I explaned that I is a saved pusson leadin a chased and cellybat lifestyle, though I got lotsa lady admirers on account of my handsome looks.

"And I gotta girlfriend," said Bosco. "She's called Camilla, and lives near the cemmetry. But she sleeps in the day time and only comes out a night."

"That's super," said Fr Phil. "We really values a vampair's lifestyle: they has a lot to contribute. I must invite her round for a bite one evenin."

Who is I to judge this lady's lifestyle?

"Now, how about you, Anti Moly? Is you perchance a lebsian? You is one of the few women round here whose name aint been linked with that of Bishop Keiran Corny."

My dere anti explaned that on the contrary, she had many years ago been deeply in love with a young Austrialan student called Goerge Pell, wot had jumped into a billaboing to avoid her unwanted attentoins. Later he became a preist, and is now a cradinal, but we is sure that secretly he regrets not tyin the knott with Anti Moly.

"Got that? If Anti Moly gets near, shoot on sight."

"Well you ain't no fun, is you?" said Fr Phil in disgust. "It's a two-way process, you know. If you wants the fatted claf and the lovvin welcome as a sinner, you gotta do some interestin sins wot we can admire. Remember the prodigious son's elder bruvver didn't get nuffink."

"I got into a fight wiv some nuns last night," said Bosco hopefully. "I was tellin them rotten critters they wasn't saved, when they started beatin me up. Wot's more, one of em nuns cut my leg up wiv a broken bottle, and I had to have stitches."

Training for a re-match with Bosco next Friday night.

"You ain't been paying attentoin," said Fr Phil grumpily. "It was a Snyodd on the Fambly, and that means SEX. We aint interested in people what does greivous boddily harm, or shopliftin, or other non-sexaul sins. Now clear off, the lotta you."