All Anglican clergy to be rebranded as women

Following the Anglicans' widely-reported calls to refer to God as a woman (John Bingham is not widely-regarded as a satirist, so we must assume that this piece is serious), there have been further calls to refer to all Church of England clergy as "she".

The lovely Justine Welby, Archbishopess of Canterbury.

Referring to God as "Our Mother" may be regarded as controversial, and would involve a rewriting of the Lord's - er, Lady's - prayer in terms such as "Our Mother, who art in Heaven, Holly be thy name, ..." No such difficulties are seen in deeming all Anglican clergy to be female: as one commentator said, "They're all a bunch of old women, anyway. Besides, atheists are used to referring to them as 'men in dresses', so if we decide that they are 'women in dresses', then this instantly demolishes a powerful anti-clerical argument."

Bishop Libby gives a blessing.

Deeming all clergymen to be female will also be in keeping with the Spirit of the Age (which is an Anglican cousin of the Spirit of Vatican II), for the married males will suddenly find themselves in same-sex partnerships, which can only be a good thing. Ask Father Gerry O'Morrah of the Irish Catholic Church to explain this to you.

Mother Giles Fraser has declared herself "delighted" with her statutory change in sex; it has always been a disappointment to her that she has been unable to identify herself fully with the "gay marriage" community, being married to a woman and being the father of kids.

N.B. While researching this article (oh yes, we did) we discovered that "Giles" is derived from the Greek αιγιδιον (aigidion) meaning "young goat". So "kids" is the right word.

"Why do the sheep go on the right and the goats on the left, anyway?"

Exit Ruth Gledhill

So Fleet Street's last religious affairs correspondent, Ruth Gledhill of the Times, has been made redundant. Said one commentator, "Her stuff was behind a paywall, so I never read it; and what I did see, I usually disagreed with, but she was a GOOD THING."

Did nobody tell Sister Ruth that we don't have a "dress-down Friday"?

One or two part-time religious correspondents remain. At the Telegraph there is John Bingham, who does "social and religious affairs", whatever that might be - it's not as silly a title as "strategic events coordinator", which was how Tom Chivers used to earn his daily crust - and of course there is also the notorious Damian Thompson, who writes about religion and custard.

Damian Thompson chats to an old friend.

Then newspapers such as the Guardian can always pump something into Sir Simon Jenkins in order to get a foaming-at-the-mouth rant, blaming religion for everything from HS2 to the World Cup fiasco.

Of course, religion is increasingly irrelevant to modern life. When the Catholic Church decided to canonize Popes John-Paul II and John XXIII, nobody turned up, and the Pope was left talking to an empty St Peter's Square. When the Anglicans decided to ordain women as bishops, nobody really cared one way or the other: the dead bodies on the floor of the synod were just an accident caused by someone's finger slipping while he was cutting sandwiches.

Even Michelle Obama's moment of honesty went unnoticed.

There do remain "niche" newspapers for the religious maniac: the Church Times, which is running a feature on How To Cut Sandwiches At A Synod Without Killing Ten Passers-By; also, numerous Catholic papers such as the Tablet, which publishes articles such as Which Pope Do We Hate The Most? Then there's the Catholic Times with its comedy column Loony Lofty and his Hilarious Heresies Re-interpretations of Scripture.

Of course, Ruth Gledhill was a national institution. Being the daughter of vicar, the niece of a Pope, the great-aunt of a Chief Rabbi, and the uncle of an Imam, she has religion in her blood. We shall not see her like again.