Day of Judgement marks downgraded

August 14th 2021

Religious leaders have complained that the results of the Day of Judgement are "a complete fiasco" and "unfair and unfathomable", after the marks for many candidates were downgraded from the predictions given by their spiritual leaders.

"We're going to Heaven!" Or are they?

Worshippers from a variety of religions have discovered that the heavenly places they expected have been refused to them.

Said Pastor Noodle of the Calvary Chapel, "I awarded Mr Bosco three A* grades, and was expecting him to take up his place in the University of Heaven. After regrading, he was awarded F-, F-, F-, and will be forced to go to a much less prestigious place."

Similarly, Imam Oran complained: "I awarded grades to my class which would have granted them each 72 virgins in the afterlife; after re-assessment, they ended up with 72 sturgeons each, and most of them don't even like fish."

Or maybe it wasn't fish.

Problems in the Catholic Church too, where Headmaster Francis's assessment of his star pupils Blase Cupich, James Martin, and Austen Ivereigh turned out to be wildly optimistic. We are still waiting for the end-of-term report on Ted McCarrick, but it seems that his predicted grades of F-----, F----- and F----- are more-or-less accurate.

"I'm appealing!" (Oh no you're not!)

Rude words in church

This is loosely based on a real incident.

Dear Fr Arthur,

Being a man of advanced years (36), I sometimes drop off in your sermons. To my horror, I awoke at one moment and distinctly heard you say the word "knickers". To the best of my knowledge I have never heard such bad language in a church service before. If you are referring to something in the Bishop's Letter, then a little respect is needed, don't you think?

Fr Arthur uses a rude word.

Eccles, you moron,

My sermon was about refugees, and I was encouraging my parishioners to donate much-needed gifts to the "jungle" at Fraseur St Gilles, near Dunkirk. These would include any spare pullovers, knickers, tins of beans, Eccles cakes, pet hamsters, rowing-boats, guns, and copies of Enid Blyton's The Famous Five discover Transgenderism that you may have. But no sausages.

May I remind you that these days social awareness is more important than religion, and so we don't talk about God in our homilies.

A mysterious photo in the Catholic Herald.

Dear Luke Coppen, Editor of the Catholic Herald,

What exactly is a wee box? Is it what we used to call a toilet cubicle? And why should the Herald print a photo of Mrs Sturgeon inaugurating some?

No reply was received.

Walking on custard.

Dear Graham James, Anglican Bishop of Norwich,

Could you explain this photo of you jumping up and down on a tray of custard? Is it an attempt to ingratiate yourself with the great Damian Thompson, custard correspondent of the Spectator? Or is it merely a new liturgical dance?

A saved person goes to vote

Holy water? Check. 
Rosary? Check. 
Crucifix? Check. 
Missal? Check.
Thurible? Check. 
Right, it's off to the polling station I go.

So, guess which one I voted for?

In fact, I got to vote twice today, once in my own right, and once to cast a proxy vote for a family member who had fallen down some stairs and sprained his ankle. He gave me explicit instructions how to vote in both the local and general elections, but he added a request that I adorn his ballot paper with a rude and naughty poem about Ed Miliband. Apparently, this would not invalidate the vote, but I didn't fulfil that request. Maybe that puts me in breach of electoral law? I don't know.

An unfortunate (double) lookalike. Fr Ted and Nicola Sturgeon.

It was a glorious day as I walked along the street to the polling station. I passed a yellow sign telling me to vote Lib Dem, then a red one for Labour, and a blue one for Conservative, and a green one for, er, Green. No UKIP ones, as it happened. Surely they couldn't all be right? No, of course not.

The election literature gave me a clue: "Joan Tharg cooks a delicious baby for her dinner. Fred Barg helps a constituent raise the money to send his granny off on a surprise trip to Dignitas. Alex Warg explains lesbianism to the St Vincent's Primary School Reception Class. Mohammed Xarg raises £5,000 for ISIS." I was beginning to suspect that all my candidates were grossly unsaved.

The "Savedometer" for analysing the swing between saved and unsaved candidates.

In the end I did find one candidate who was slightly saved (let's say, more saved than Professor Tina Beattie but less saved than Bishop Mark Davies), and voted for him. However his leader is definitely a very unsaved person. My only consolation was that my vote could only make a real difference if the majority in my constituency was 0 or 1. But it's not a happy day for a saved person.

As the old story has it, we shall have three possible hymns to choose from tomorrow:

Now thank we all our God.

O God, our help in ages past.

God moves in a mysterious way.

The Scottish bishops disaster

By William McGonagall

'Twas in the year twenty-fifteen
That strange events in Scotland were seen:
The Nationalists' hopes began to burgeon
Because of a bonnie wee lass called Sturgeon,
Who was bound to do well in the General Election
Because of a mood of disaffection.

The Catholic bishops were all very fine,
Except perhaps for Keith O'Brien.
Of the rest I would mention especially
Philip Tartaglia and Leo Cushley.
Devine was divine, and as for Toal,
There was quite a high chance of saving his soul.

Trouble ahead: Leo Cushley makes a new friend.

But 'tis often thought that Catholics
Should be careful when dabbling in politics.
Bishops, you may write your flock a note
But don't tell 'em exactly how to vote.
When making our choice most think it better
To ignore the tedious "Bishops' Letter".

Alas! The bishops had been gammoned
By Nicola Sturgeon and Alex Salmond.
They fell into a hopeless passion,
And expressed themselves after this fashion:
"She may have got enormous feet,
But her voice is low and sweet -
Aye, she's a' the world to me;
And for bonnie leftie Nicky 
I'd lay me doon and dee!"

Bonnie Leftie Nicky.

I must now conclude my lay,
And tell the world what many men say.
Bishops are blessed, and they know how to pray,
But in Scotland, as in England, they
Sometimes don't take care what they say.
Respectfully, I warn the episcopal classes:
"Your conduct sometimes rather crass is.
Worship God, and say your Masses,
But don't trust any political lasses,
Or people will say you're a bunch of asses!"

Wiser than some bishops.