Je suis Eccles

After the distressing events of this week, you may be unsure how to react. We suggest a few possibilities: which of these slogans is yours?

Je suis Charlie

Look, I know some people are going to find my views controversial here, but I really feel I should stick my neck out and say that I am not a fan of murdering journalists and cartoonists. I mean, I found one of the Alex comic strips in the Telegraph totally pathetic and unfunny - well, most of them, actually - but I didn't feel I had to kill someone. Call me a woolly liberal who jumps on whatever bandwagon is going, but that's just how I am. If my views have caused offence, I apologise.

Je suis Charlie.

Je ne suis pas Charlie / Je suis non Charlie / Je non suis Charlie pas / Suis-je Charlie / Qui suis-je / Je suis la plume de ma tante (depending on level of fluency in French)

Of course I don't think those guys should have been murdered. However, unlike them I don't think that throwing bricks at the gendarmes in the 1968 riots was a pretty neat trick, and I've actually seen some of the repulsive anti-Catholic cartoons that the Charlie Hebdo staff produced. So I don't identify with them either. Sigh... I'll explain this again, slowly...

Je suis Ian

Of course my own magazine, Private Parts, which was originally intended as a radical alternative to Punch, is now as much part of the establishment as I am (I hope you watch me on my show Haven't we got any jokes for you?) We don't do much satire in the Parts these days, although we occasionally slip in a joke about child abuse whenever the Catholic Church is in the news. So we shan't be publishing anything that might actually upset someone, or even make them laugh.

The voice of the establishment.

Je suis François

Franchement, je suis hors de mon depth here. Vive la France séculaire, with its même-sexe mariage, l'abortion and le bashing de religion. Eh bien, les Musulhommes are bienvenus en general, particulierement les Musulhommes séculaires. However, I've got trop de femme trouble at le moment, and apart from sending in les gendarmes with all guns blazing je n'ai pas de grande stratégie pour dealing with a crise.

Je suis Jihad Jean

Ever since the days when I used to pull the heads off my dolls, I have been a fan of senseless violence, and defending the reputation of the prophet Mohammed is obviously a cause close to my heart. Starting a bloodbath is the only way to make people appreciate that Muslims are essentially peace-loving people, almost indistinguishable from paid-up members of the Church of England. And when all this is over I'm coming back to England to train as an actuary.

A lecherous, foul-mouthed alcoholic religious figure. I hope this was not based on any particular prophet.

Je suis Tony

As a full-time internet troll in good standing, I will question your motives whatever your reaction to the week's events. If you say nothing I will say you don't care, and if you make a comment I'll say you're attention-seeking. To those people who claim "Je suis Eccles", this is evidence that Brother Eccles - who, my spies tell me, is really Fr Jennifer Eccles, the transgendered Dominican referred to in the previous post - is still using dozens of sockpuppets.

No Kiss of Peace for Eccles

Long-time readers of this blog will remember Fr Arthur, our local priest in good standing who takes very seriously the view that we are all sinners: indeed, for two pins he will give you a list of your sins, and, if he spots you in the confessional, will remind you of all the things you forgot to confess.

Fr Arthur has now recruited Deacon Marvin to help him, another man of pronounced likes and dislikes - mostly dislikes. On Sunday we had a hymn by Bernadette Farrell, "Christ, Be Our Light". It's not a completely bad hymn - it doesn't give me stomach cramps like "Shine, Jesus, Shine" or "Walk in the Light" do - but it reads more like a Guardian editorial than a hymn.

All music is equally valid, you see.

Now, you may remember that Mrs Farrell wrote a rather impudent piece in the Tablet, in which she concluded that all styles of worship were equally valid and that the composer James MacMillan was wrong to express dislike for the dross produced by Paul Inwood, Dan Schutte and Gerry Fitzpatrick. Somehow Deacon Marvin overheard a private conversation in which I criticised Bernadette's musical taste, and that set him off.

There's a point in the Novus Ordo Mass where we are encouraged to offer each other the sign of peace. Usually it is the deacon who says this particular exhortation, and what we got this Sunday was the following version "Let us now offer each other the sign of peace. Except for Eccles, who is revolting and unkind, a bitter and twisted old neverwas. Anyone who shakes hands with Eccles is not worthy." You could see the Christian love radiate from the deacon (and the steam coming out of his ears) as he said these charming words.

"We hates Eccles because he criticised Mrs Farrell."

Fr Arthur slapped the little deacon on the shoulder, as if to say "Good man," and so the Kiss of Peace went on without me. "Peace be with you." "Peace be with you." "Sorry, Eccles, you're an untouchable." "Peace be - oh, I've done you already, haven't I?" "Unhand me, sir!" "Ugh, you just sneezed in those hands." "Peace be with you." "Pax tecum." "Traddy pig!" "That makes twelve handshakes, I'm on a roll this week!" "I'm a Catholic, get me out of here!" "Bog off, Eccles." "Peace be with you."

Well, I never much liked the Kiss of Peace, and it is only an optional part of the Mass, one of those things that the Ghost of Vatican II slipped in when nobody was looking. And it is humbling once in a while to be told by a man in holy orders that he hates us.

St Nicholas gives Arius the "slap of peace".

Liturgy for baptism with an ice bucket

The priest, the person seeking baptism, the wielder of the bucket, and the bearer of the video camera shall proceed into the church; meanwhile, a hymn evoking water, ice or snow may be sung, such as Good King Wenceslas.

Probably not Pope Francis.

Priest: Who cometh here seeking the baptism of icy water?

Candidate: I come here so to seek.

Priest: And why seekest thou such a baptism?

Candidate: To raise awareness of ALS (MND) (or he may say "baldness", or "halitosis", or any other ailment that afflicts mankind). To raise awareness of myself and my virtue. Also, because I am too stingy to dip in my pocket and send cash to a charity.

I'm used to being humiliated. I can even stick my head in a bucket of water if you like.

Priest: And who wieldeth the bucket?

Wielder: I do.

Priest: Dost thou promise to wield the bucket fairly, taking care that most of the contents fall upon the candidate? And wilst thou endeavour not to splash me?

Wielder: I promise this.

Priest: And who beareth the video camera? (Or he may say "mobile telephone".)

Bearer: I do.

Priest: And dost thou promise to place the fruits of thine efforts on Youtube, that all may see how wondrous are the deeds of the Candidate?

Bearer: I so promise.

At this point there may be a reading from Lamentations 3:54. "Waters flowed over mine head; then I said, I am cut off."

It is advisable to remove the bottles before proceeding.

Priest: Art thou ready to receive the icy water?

Candidate: I am ready.

Priest: Then let it be poured upon thee.

The wielder shall now invert the bucket, and the video camera shall "roll".

Candidate: Eeeek! Owwww! (Or he may use another form of words, such as "Yarooh!" or "Aaagh!")

Priest: Hast thou gotten a good "take"?

Bearer: This I have done.

Priest: Then the deed is done, so let us go forth in gladness.

Candidate: A-a-a-a-a-a-...

Omnes: CHOO!

The procession shall now leave the church, and the candidate shall seek a towel and dry raiment.

2 Chronicles

Welcome back, class. I hope you are enjoying the Eccles Bible Project, as we work our way through the Bible, explaining it to beginners. Now today's book of the Bible contains more Jewish history, and duplicates a lot of what we've seen already, so last week I set you all some homework - read 2 Chronicles and write an essay on it.

Gervais! Put your feet down. And where's your essay, boy?

Ah, Dawkins, our star pupil. What's your essay about? Why Solomon wasn't as wise or as rich as what I am. Yes, that's just about on-topic. In 2 Chronicles we do get nine chapters about Solomon, building a temple, running a fleet of chariots bearing the message "THERE'S DEFINITELY A GOD. NOW STOP WORRYING - UNLESS YOU'RE AN ATHEIST," and getting rich from the royalties on his father's psalms. But your essay seems to be mostly about you, and why you should be King too. Could do better, lad.

Not really a useful guide to the 10th century BC.

Now, Fry, I know you once wrote a book called Moab is my washpot, which is a line taken from the psalms. However, when I read it, it seemed to be all about you rather than any of the people we're looking at today. So what is your essay entitled? Rehoboam or Jeroboam - which had the cutest boam? I've got a nasty feeling about this one. Let's move on.

Hari? You have an exclusive interview with King Asa of Judah, in which he tells you that he did that which was good and right in the eyes of the Lord his God? Splendid. We'll read that later.

The chaplin demonstrates a liturgical dance.

Oh yes, Marvin the paranoid deacon. You were sent here on a refresher course, I gather. Do stop spitting at your neighbours. So you've written something for us, explaining how the entire Bible was written by a sockpuppet of Eccles? And you have invented some characters in the style of your favourite newspaper, Viz? That's like the Tablet but a little more Catholic, right? Brilliant idea! Let's see what's on offer.

King Silly Man the not-so-wise. Who is it based on? A boy at school who borrowed your pencil 35 years ago and forgot to give it back? Crumbs, that's biting satire, well done. He'll be seeking counselling, I'm sure.

J. Whosa Fatty, the overweight king of Judah. Ha ha ha, brilliantly witty. Yes, it's true that a certain priest is a little overweight; I'm sure he'll recognise himself there. Yes, I know, isn't it terrible how priests look down on deacons? Well, on some deacons. Well, on you.

Neighbourhood-nurser and Baby Lon. Oh, you're killing me. A woman with a baby, whom you hate intensely because she has got more friends than you? That'll teach her to humiliate you!

Neighbourhood-nurser and Baby Lon (ho ho!)

Well, we'd better stop there. Next time we'll look at the book of Ezra, which may be a bit more spiritually nourishing.

Parodies make me depressed

Today we are luck enough to have a guest post from Marvin the Paranoid Deacon. The Reverend Mr Marvin writes his own blog, with a special password-protected section that his bishop cannot read.

Our guest blogger.

Parody is the last bastion of the bully (with apologies to Dr Johnson). I've heard of Dr Johnson, and his remark about patriotism. So I thought I'd do a clever parody of his epigram and... no, not a parody. Oh dear, can I start again?

Sir! The Tablet is a scurrilous rag, not worthy of the house of a gentleman.

What I was trying to say is that I get very depressed when I see parodies. For example, there's this organization ACTOR that everyone keeps talking about. It seems to be a parody of the Church of England, or at least its liberal tendency. Abortion, same-sex marriage, homosexual priests, defying the Pope... We've seen all this before, and these ACTORs (who are doubtless all true and faithful Catholics) are simply trying to bully the liberal Anglicans by parodying their views.

Six wives? I left the Catholic Church because I really wanted six husbands!

Excuse me while a pour a bucket of water over my head. You'd like to see a deacon in good standing with water streaming off him, wouldn't you? It would make you laugh, wouldn't it? All right then, here goes.

As a deacon, I am expected to be a martyr.

Now, I was looking around for examples of parody, and, apart from Eccles's blog, I found that the worst examples are in the Bible. That's a book that we deacons like to read in the bath. I've got a special waterproof edition, as I keep dropping it into the water.

You may be familiar with a man called Jesus Christ. We deacons get told about him when we go to deacon classes. But Christ could never have been a deacon in good standing, because he kept telling jokes, being satirical and even making parodies.

Consider that poor Pharisee. By all accounts, he was a Pharisee in good standing. Probably he was a spiritual life coordinator, so that he used to fast twice in a week, go on Twitter to insult Catholic women, and give tithes of all that he possessed. Note that A. Pharisee was his real name - Anthony Pharisee, at a guess. He's more likely to be a real person than the publican, who called himself Mr Peccator, an obviously made-up name. But Jesus bullied him unmercifully.

A Pharisee in good standing.

Christ also made stupid jokes about people straining at gnats and swallowing camels. How depressing. I don't often eat gnats, but I see nothing wrong with swallowing camels. Here's one of my favourite recipes.

I'll swallow camels if I want to!

Well, I hope that you will all take my remarks to heart, and continue to be really nasty to anyone who engages in satire or parody. We're not in this world to have fun... well, I'm not... you try being a manically-depressed deacon sometime.

Liturgical abuses

QUAERITUR: Our parish priest frequently turns up late for Mass, because he has to finish watching his favourite television programme beforehand. In order to start the service on time he has programmed a rather gloomy robot to say the words for him until he arrives. Is there any problem with this?

"Ego miser et indignus peccator (I think you ought to know I'm a very depressed sinner)."

Father X writes: No, I can't see any problem with that, provided that the real priest takes over before the Gospel is read out.

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QUAERITUR: Although our parish priest turns up on time, he is a rather timid chap with a very dominating mother and two sisters, who insist on correcting him all the time. Last Sunday, he began to say "Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault" and they interrupted him with "Actually, I blame the bishop." Worse, they dress up in the most hideous vestments, evidently wishing that they themselves were priests. What can we do?

Now John always gets the words of the creed wrong, so we'll do it our way.

Father X writes: Never argue with a woman!

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QUAERITUR: Our parish priest is very fond of pizza. Last week he became a little confused, and, evidently thinking he had a supply of bread and wine, he started consecrating a pepperoni pizza and a bottle of diet coke. Were we right to stop him?

At least the priest is wearing a biretta!

Father X writes: It is never right to interrupt a priest, even one who seems to be barking mad.

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QUAERITUR: Our parish priest writes a blog on which he keeps advertising coffee. I drank some of it, and felt very ill afterwards. If I can't trust him to recommend good coffee, how can I trust his interpretations of the Gospels?

Liturgically invalid coffee.

Father X writes: Disgraceful! This is definitely a liturgical abuse. Drink "Mysterious Monk" coffee, guaranteed to kill 99% of all known germs.