The mystery of the shepherds

Many writers have speculated about the identities of the Magi, most recently Fr Dwight Longenecker. Clearly, many questions are still to be answered, of which the key ones are:

• were there three of them?
• were they wise?
• were they men?

Indeed, next Christmas's blockbuster by Fr James Martin SJ is expected to reveal that they were five women deacons wearing dalmatics.

A traddy nativity scene, unsuitable for modern use.

Traditionally, at least, there were three wise men, called Kasper, Müller and Baldisseri, but nobody knows how many shepherds there were, nor any of their names.

My own detailed research suggests that there were three shepherds (because Biblical stuff comes in threes, sevens, twelves and forties). I thought at first that Baa-lamb was a shepherd, but many scholars now say that he kept a donkey, and was nothing at all to do with the first Christmas.

Shepherds only! Clear off!

A study of the Archers, a long-running religious radio programme broadcast by the BBC, suggests that one of the shepherds might be called Walter Gabriel, originator of the phrase, "Me old pal, me old beauty", although Gabriel is also the name of an angel, so one cannot be sure.

The Tony Hancock character Joshua Merryweather (another Biblical name!) is also a possibility, with his classic hymn of praise (now available in The Graham Kendrick Book of Hymns for Today):

I've got mangel wurzels in my garden, 
I've got mangel wurzels in my shed,
I've got mangel wurzels in my bathroom,
And a mangel wurzel for a head.

Were these the three shepherds?

Well, it's all very mystifying. Also, why did the angels summon shepherds to the manger? Why not celebrities - by which we mean actors, footballers, comedians, politicians, professors of zoology, professors of human flourishing, etc.? Or even celebrity clerics, bloggers, and professors of theology, who could have explained what was going on? It all sounds like an almighty mix-up.

"There will be a time for the canonization of King Herod," explains a distinguished professor.

Note: "While shepherds washed their socks by night / All seated round the tub" is © The Graham Kendrick Book of Hymns for Today.

The Tablet seeks a new editor

Yes, 2016 has proved a truly grim year. We lost Mother Angelica, Andrew Sachs, David Bowie, Terry Wogan (fill in your own names here), and now Catherine Pepinster is leaving the Tablet, or Bitter Pill as it is known to many Catholics. It will be hard to fill the shoes of the woman who brought you top-quality theology from the likes of Hans Küng, Tony Flannery and James Martin!

Mrs Pepinster interviews the last surviving Marx brother for the showbusiness page.

Over now to the Tablet offices, where they are in the process of choosing a successor.

Right, the first application is from Damian Thompson of the Spectator and Catholic Herald. He's promising us some hard-hitting Catholic journalism (all gasp), as well as in-depth analysis of the likely front-runners for the next papacy. Is Cardinal Sarah ruled out because of his bad hair? Is there any cardinal apart from Dolan who really understands custard? Burning questions, I'm sure you'll agree.

Also, which pope had the worst drink problem? Plus a stable of new writers such as Cristina Odone, Dan Hodges and Mary Riddell. No, we really can't accept that.

Who's next? Ah yes, Thomas Rosica of the Salt and Vinegar Corporation. He's a Basilian (of the St Basil of Fawlty branch). He says he has this wonderful plan to reduce the subscription to zero by blocking all the subscribers he doesn't like. No, I don't think that would work.

A keen Tablet reader looks in vain for something Catholic.

Then there's someone who describes himself as "Father Z". He reckons we can obtain sponsorship from the Numinous Nun Coffee Company, and says he should be able to hit the "target readership" from 100 paces. Also, he plans to publish the newspaper in Latin. Well, we'll keep him on our list for the moment.

You know... this isn't really getting us anywhere. Did someone put "Catholic" in the job advert by mistake? For the last 12 years we've been trying to rebrand ourselves as a clone of the Guardian, and now they want to take us back to the bad old days. Does Amoris Laetitia mean nothing to you? Did she die in vain?*

*Old Tony Hancock joke, adapted.

Oh, hang it. Give the job to Tina. She'll make sure the magazine stays firmly in the 1970s.

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Personally I'm finding the Tablet Advent Calendar a little disappointing.

Face East, young man, and dress properly

Two news items have dominated the press this week: one Catholic, and one Anglican.

A moral compass for priests.

First, Cardinal Sarah, the leading "stop Tagle" candidate for the next papacy, has reminded priests to celebrate Mass ad orientem, starting in Advent. This is generally regarded as the start of the pantomime season, and any priests seen facing the wrong way at Mass are liable to be greeted by shouts of "He's behind you!" So far we have not heard any disagreement from Fr James Martin SJ, himself an experienced pantomine dame, who is willing to face either way.

"The Holy Spirit is female!" Oh no, he isn't!

Facing God is a concept popularly believed to have disappeared after Vatican II, along with Latin, Sin and Redemption, so it is interesting to hear from a Cardinal who is prepared to reject the Spirit of Vatican II.

Whatever else is happening, remember to take a selfie during Mass!

LATE NEWS: IN a letter to his priests, Cardinal Nicholas has explicitly disagreed with the Cardinal Sarah, Prefect of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments. However, we think there may be an explanation.

"Do celebrate ad orientem, Vin. So many people want to see the back of you."

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Over at the Church of England, the big debate is over what clothes the vicars should be allowed to wear in church.

The Rev. Worzel Gummidge recommends the rural (scarecrow) look.

We recently visited Father Gummidge's Church, and heard a delightful anthem from Galton and Simpson, entitled Beta vulgaris in horto, which begins

I've got mangel-wurzels in my garden, 
I've got mangel-wurzels in my shed,
I've got mangel-wurzels in my bathroom, 
And a mangel-wurzel for a head.

Here is another example of Synod-approved vestments:

Protestant ministers (as is well known, Catholics don't read the Bible).

Yes, times are definitely changing. Our final picture of some Episcopalian bishopesses shows an example of quiet dignity. Church services are not there just for religion - they are also there for displays of fashion, and they give our costume holy women (and men) a way of recycling their old curtains!

True holiness.

What are my human rights?

QUAERITUR: What are my human rights? I have read recently that Judge Dedov, a comedian employed by the European Court of Human Rights, took the (minority) view that Catholic priests had the "human right" to remain priests, even if they disregarded the celibacy rule. Moreover, Michael Fabricant M.P. has just declared that homosexuals have the "right" to give blood. So is there a comprehensive list of rights anywhere?

Do I have the right to a silly mop of blond hair?

Professor Eccles answers: I once read a book by Simone Weil - clever lady - in which she argued that talking about "rights" was silly, and we should be talking more about "responsibilities". So instead of saying "I have a right to a silly mop of blond hair", we should argue "The NHS has a duty to provide me with a silly blond wig". Instead of saying "I have a right to give blood", we might say "The NHS (or Count Dracula, or whoever you wish to give it to) has a duty to accept this bottle of red stuff that I've brought in with me."

"Cliff Richard might get your lot - that'd slow him down a bit."

Human rights have clearly changed over time: originally Ug the cave-man felt he had the "right" to food and shelter - but not necessarily the prime cut of mammoth or the most comfortable rock to lay his head on. The human right to watch Russell Brand on colour television never occurred to him (those were happier times). Even then he might feel he had the right to be a high priest and to participate in the sacrifices that were going on (mostly goats in those days, it seems).

After some thought, I have formulated the Eccles Principle of Human Rights. Human Rights are whatever someone else has that you want.

Jeremy Clarkson has a Mercedes Benz - so it is your human right to have one too!

It is clear that the Eccles principle will improve your life immeasurably. Want a seat in the House of Lords? It's your human right - frankly, the last few appointees seem to have been chosen at random, so you are probably just as suitable. Do you want to be a lady Catholic bishop? It is your right to reassign your gender as "female" (if necessary), and initiate a new career, bullying deacons and posing for narcissistic pictures - or whatever it is that bishops do.

You too have the right to participate in a Dr Who tribute act!

Correction: as we went to press, we learned that you do not have the human right to express your opinion if it offends atheists, liberals, socialists or terrorists. Sorry about that.

How to stay healthy in church

On advice from my doctor, who was concerned about my blood pressure, I went to a "said" Mass today: being a music-lover, I suffer a lot of stress if I have to sing "Shine, Jesus, Shine", "Walk in the Light", or "Follow Me". It is also bad for my blood pressure to hear badly-played guitars and flutes. So a "said" Mass it was.

Now, can you see the next health hazard?

I was sitting next to the aisle. In front of me, a man coughing and sneezing into his hands, practically non-stop. Behind me, a woman, less of an invalid, but also sneezing into her hands once in a while. Ahead of me... the dreaded Kiss of Peace!

"Sorry, Eccles, I should have sat next to you."

Clearly, when the deacon (for it was he) uttered the fateful words about offering each other a sign of peace, I was not going to be able to avoid clasping the germ-sodden hands of Mr Sneezy and Mrs Spluttery. The words of a famous 1960s hymn came to mind:

Coughs and sneezes spread diseases:
Trap the germs in your handkerchief.

It is memorably sung to the tune of Deutschland Über Alles (Haydn's Emperor's Hymn) by Tony Hancock in the Blood Donor sketch. I heard that Kevin Mayhew was planning to include it in his next hymnbook, set to a newer and more trivial tune.

"Coughs and sneezes spread diseases."

Let's formulate this as a chess problem: Eccles to move.

My inspiration - a chess knight!

Yes, I surreptitiously edged two places to the left, behind the military man in the eye-patch, and in front of the middle-aged woman who insisted on singing loudly, even though it was widely reported that she could not carry a tune in a bucket. During the offertory, I had to get up anyway, to pass the collection plate to the man on my left, who vaguely resembled a film star. So when I sat down again, I was a knight's move away from the sneezing duo. The current rules of etiquette mean that shaking hands is not compulsory at that distance, although a "leer of peace" is expected. Saved!

"Peace be with you! But come any closer and I'll shoot you with my phaser."

I'll stop there - I think I've got a cold coming on.