When can a pope tell lies?

With what the Americans call the "passing" of Pope Francis (and the rest of us call "failing") we did not expect to see much more in the "How to be a good pope" series of posts, but even after his death Francis is the gift that goes on giving.

Let's get the Rex Mottram school of thought out of the way first. Rex (in "Brideshead Revisited") is talking to his priest.

'Supposing the Pope had consulted his bishops and he said "They all want to suppress the traditional Latin Mass". Would that be definitely true?'

'Oh, yes, Father.'

'But supposing it wasn't?'

He thought a moment and said, 'I suppose it would be sort of true spiritually, only we were too sinful to see it.'

Poor Hoho Rich Raho Rex Mottram consults his priest.

But we are jumping the gun. As pope you are anxious to give the "backwardist" "rigid" trads a final kick before you shuffle off your mortal coil, and what better way to do this than by suppressing the Mass so many of them attend? Cardinal Sally has retired from the Flying Circus for Divine Worship and you have promoted his former deputy Arthur Quiche the Cake-lover, who will do whatever you want.

So you consult your bishops on your proposals. The replies are very varied, and here are some of the examples (the last two written by Grok, which 95% of bishops use for their pastoral letters):

"You must be out of your tiny mind, Holy Father!"

"Holy Father, I think your mitre's on too tight if you’re suggesting that!"

"That's mean and vicious, Holy Father, and I don't mean that as a compliment."

"Your so-called 'suggestion' is a vile, heartless edict that exposes your true colors—cloaked in piety but dripping with cruelty. You sit on your gilded throne, spewing malice while pretending that it's divine wisdom. This isn't leadership; it's a disgusting abuse of power, and history will judge you as a hypocrite who delighted in others' suffering. Shame on you."

One response is slightly favourable:

"Your Holiness, your suggestion, in its profound wisdom, carries a depth that surely transcends my humble understanding. Its boldness, though some might misjudge it as harsh, reflects a divine clarity aimed at guiding us toward a higher purpose. I am but a lowly servant, awestruck by your infallible vision, and I grovel in gratitude for the privilege of witnessing such sacred counsel. May your merciful brilliance forever illuminate our path. Signed, Blase Soupdish."

There's always one ally.

Anyway, in spite of the fact that the vast majority of bishops think you are bonkers to try and overturn the decision of your predecessor Pope Ben, especially while he is still alive, you decide to go ahead and write Trads Cussed.

The Vatican's overall assessment of the consultation process is to be filed away carefully in an underground tomb marked "Relics of St Eccles the Humble. Do not open until the Day of Judgement." Your legacy is assured and you can die happily.

Unfortunately, it all begins to unravel when two months later Miss Marple stumbles across the Vatican report and realises that you were lying. Luckily the "popesplainers" (and why, I wonder, did no previous popes employ an army of 'splainers?) are ready to respond.

"Miss Marple made the whole thing up. She is a known liar, and cannot be trusted."

"Well, maybe she didn't invent the story, but she misunderstood the report."

"OK, perhaps the report is just as she said, but it doesn't mean the pope lied. It's all the fault of Arthur Quiche."

"All right, perhaps Pope Fred lied, but popes are allowed to do this if they are not being infallible. That would mean sitting in a special chair, saying 'Here is something infallible, so pay attention!" and talking about Catholic doctrine, and he didn't do that."

Arthur Quiche decides to retire to Yorkshire to spend more time with his cakes.

Finally, there is the Jane Austen-Ivory attack-poodle response.

"Every time I insult those scumbags who defend the TLM, they accuse me of being nasty: Pope St Fred was a Paragon of Cosmic Wisdom and Indomitable Bravery - or you might say a Seer of Infinite Prudence and Lionhearted Resolve - when he called out this new Gnosticism, and how necessary it is to stamp on the heads of traditionalists. The whole movement is corrupt. We hates them, we hates them."

This must surely close the issue once and for all.

New Auckland-rite vestments available

Following the lead of Bishop Stephen Lowe of Auckland, New Zealand, Gammarelli's outfitters has now agreed to stock the new "Snickers" vestments that are driving the Catholic world wild.

Bishop Lowe models the new vestments.

Apparently, the "Snickers" liturgy is as orthodox as Pachamama, it being a Polynesian custom for clergy to wear chocolate bars round their necks when offering the Mass (or "Mars" as they pronounce it). Depending on the liturgical season, the Snickers may also be replaced by Bounty bars, Kit-Kats, Milky Way, Toblerone, etc.

Poor Hoho, the greatest theologian of our age, has given his approval, pointing out that the new liturgy helps to implement Pope Francis's Traditional Custardpie.

Moreover, Cardinal Roche has also declared himself very enthusiastic about the new vestments, and has personally ordered a dozen Snickers necklaces ("and don't bother about the chasuble"). Mike Lewis of Where Pacha Is has also given his imprimatur, although regular readers of this blog will know that he normally prefers sausages.

On the other hand, this has been a good week for the Trads, with the announcement that this year's hard-right fascist Chartres pilgrimage has drawn a record attendance, and is now closed to further pilgrims. It is not known whether any of the devout will be wearing Snickers bars around their necks although the event is something of a marathon.

Pope Francis is "delighted" to hear the news of Chartres.

Will Francis visit persecuted Catholics in Rome?

The Holy Father has had several recent diplomatic triumphs, visiting places where Catholics are persecuted: Iraq went very well, although Francis is still trying to get the taste of sheep's eyes out of his mouth; moreover, he ALMOST managed to spare 10 minutes to see Cardinal Zen, the representative of persecuted Catholics in China. Now a request has come for an urgent visit to St Peter's Basilica, where a persecution of Catholics unparalleled since the days of Nero has begun.

A devout Catholic becomes hysterical when he hears the tragic news.

From now on visiting parties of pilgrims wishing to celebrate Mass are invited to do so in one of the following locations:

• The public conveniences;
• A disused broom cupboard;
• A cold area of the grotto under six inches of water.

Fido guards the entrance to the place reserved for Masses.

All Masses must be in Italian, and involve an idol of Pachamama, or they will be stopped. Anyone trying to offer a traditional Latin Mass will be escorted to the River Tiber and pushed in.

The good news is that several slots are available: 3.23 a.m., 3.33 a.m., and 3.43 a.m. Each slot lasts ten minutes, so do practise speaking quickly, Fathers.

On being told of these new regulations, Pope Francis laughed heartily for 20 minutes and then hastily composed himself and said "We must visit these poor oppressed pilgrims. Make sure they cough up 20 euros each, as the Vatican is rather broke at the moment, with the Roma Power Company threatening to cut off our electricity any time now. We do have our own dynamo, but little Ivereigh can't keep running round in his wheel all night."

Pope Francis expresses his deep distress at the persecution.

A papal visit to St Peter's is not considered to be one of the more difficult tasks, involving just a ten-minute walk from the humble study in which the Pope works on developing his new doctrines. However, it has few photo-opportunities, and no racing around in a popemobile, let alone a chance for EX AEROPLANA announcements.

Still, such a trip would be a very welcome boost to morale, and the pilgrims are grateful that a provisional date of March 13th 2043, the 30th anniversary of Francis's accession, has been agreed.

How Eccles became a devout Catholic

After watching events on the other side of the Atlantic, I decided that it was time to look more holy. Obviously, being a devout Catholic is all a matter of public image, and has nothing to do with what you actually do. But some people don't realise this, so I got myself a Press Secretary.

Jenny Psarkasm, my press secretary.

Jenny's job is to tell the neighbours how devout I am. For example, I go to Mass sometimes; indeed, I have my own reserved pew, complete with cushions, a supply of gin, and other aids to sleeping. Also, I go to Mass sometimes. I don't actually believe any of that Catholic stuff, but - did I tell you? - I go to Mass sometimes.

It's true that I do like conducting human sacrifices in my garden, and some of the neighbours have objected to that. However, Jenny reminds them that I am a devout Catholic, and this smooths over any difficulties. By the way, I go to Mass sometimes.

Uncle Wilt says I am a great guy who would never think of posing outside a church with a Bible, like that wicked Mr Trump who used to own our house. In fact I do own a Bible - made by a company called Douay and Rheims - although I haven't got round to opening it yet!

My Bible is wrapped in polythene, so that it doesn't burn my hands.

Anyway, I hope that reassures you that I am a devout Catholic. For further testimonials, ask Fr Jimbo, our local LGBT representative; or Poor Hoho, a local schoolteacher; or else Professor Beans from the College of Leguminous Catholicism, who has even written a book about me, "Eccles, the devout Catholic"!

By the way, my memory isn't all that good. Did I mention that I go to - you know - Thing, sometimes?