Pope Francis goes into orbit

It has long been realised that Pope Francis is a little bored with Planet Earth, and does most of his good work (e.g. developing new Catholic doctrine, weddings, funerals, mass-ordination of journalists to the priesthood, etc.) while flying in the PopeJet. The fact that he is 35,000 feet above most of his flock gives him a "buzz" as well as an air of authority.

The time has now come for him to leave terra firma entirely. The first plan was for him to fly round the world for ever in the PopeJet, but this would require regular in-flight refuelling. So the only reasonable answer is for Pope Francis to be the first Pope in Space!

"I now pronounce you Man and Wife - whoever you are!"

There has been much talk about making space travel available to all - well, to all who can afford it - mainly from Richard Branson, who hasn't even managed to make train travel available to all. The Catholic Church is anxious to cash in on the Virgin brand, for obvious reasons, and the Pope has agreed to perform "the sacrament of your choice" for anyone who turns up at the PopeStation.

The papal flight to Chile was very productive, for, in addition to marrying/blessing the marriage of/regularizing the marriage of* Chief Trolley Commander Carlos Ciuffardi Elorriaga and Deputy Lifejacket Demonstrator Paola Podest Ruiz, who had spent 8 years vainly looking for a church, the Pope also conducted the funeral of a passenger who had died, or at least wasn't at all well, before shooting his body out over the Andes.

*Depending on which account you read.

Incidentally, it is said that the reason the Pope signalled out C.T.C. Elorriaga for a wedding was that this was the first heterosexual male flight attendant that the Holy Father had ever encountered.

An army of deacons stands by to assist Pope Francis.

Meanwhile, old-fashioned earthbound priests are now encouraged to close their churches and invest in private aeroplanes, especially since there is now a huge demand from Catholics for "stunt" weddings. For a small fee, your priest will even agree to make a parachute jump with you, while performing the marriage service.

Anyway, this whole saga has re-established Pope Francis as "the man at the top", and nobody has mentioned Lilianne Ploumen for at least two days. Which was probably the whole point of the exercise.

"Remember, in Space nobody can hear you scream. Which is a good thing..."

A good thrashing for Giles Fraser

The story began when Giles Fraser, the ultra-liberal Anglican priest, journalist and radio personality, wrote a particularly nasty piece denying the reality of the Virgin Birth. According to Father Giles, who clearly doesn't have much time for Bible-reading, Jesus was the product of fornication - or possibly rape; which makes it rather hard to see how He would be the Son of God.

A hatchet job on the Mystery of the Incarnation? No problem!

Now Pope Francis has said that if anyone were to insult his mother, then they would deserve a punch, and clearly the same must apply to anyone who insulted the Mother of God. However, the Holy Father tends to be quite busy at Christmas, and so dashing over to London to give a heretic a "poke in the snoot" may not be one of his priorities. So it was up to Eccles to stand up for Jesus.

A few possibilities occurred to me:

De-bag Giles and throw him in the river. Unfortunately the Thames is rather deep, and I don't know how well he can swim. It would also lead to strange news items about beached whales.

Horsewhip him on the steps of his club, the "Champagne Socialists". It might be hard to catch him there, and anyway I don't suppose he'd stay around long enough.

Catch him in his church, St Mary's, Newington, and hit him with a cricket bat. Now we're talking. As it happens I have a nice bat that I bought from the recently unsuccessful cricketer Ian Bell ("hardly used").

Keeping the bat away from anything that might damage it.

So off I toddled to St Mary's Newington. I had asked my great friend Father Zuhlsdorf, "What is the liturgically correct time in the service to assault a priest?" but he was not sure, since it was going to be an Anglican service. I remained peaceful throughout the Gospel (readings from Giles's old Guardian columns), the sermon (or "Thought for the Day"), and even the shortened Creed, which went as follows:

We believe in God, more-or-less;
And Jesus may even have existed;
And we've got no problems with the Holy Spirit;
And we're all going to Heaven. Amen.

It was just as a hymn was announced (something about the People's Flag being Deepest Red, which was unknown to me), that I noticed a strangely familiar man sitting next to me.

A strangely familiar man

He was clearly in his mid-seventies, but he dressed as a teenager, and had evidently sewn a new message on to his shirt. "Aren't you Richard Dawkins, the famous zoologist, theologian, bus-driver and poet?" I asked. "What are you doing in church?"

"I was so impressed by Giles Fraser's Guardian article that I have decided to sign up to Anglicanism," replied the learned professor. "I have finally discovered that religion doesn't actually involve believing in anything..."

I was disconcerted. If Father Giles was winning converts, then perhaps I should defer his thrashing to another occasion, or even cancel it. I walked out of his church, and from a nearby Catholic church I heard groans of "MERCY! MERCY!" as the congregation reacted to the Paul Inwood "Year of Mercy" chant (1024 repetitions of the same banal tune). Yes, I should show mercy. Happy Christmas, Giles, even if you don't believe a word of it.

Cafeteria Catholic

Some confusion about "the real thing" here.

Clive Schlee, the Managing Director of the Away-in-a-Manger chain of shops, has reacted gallantly to a post on this blog asserting that, being in the food retail business, he was naturally inclined to be a Cafeteria Catholic. Indeed, he is now planning to withdraw the controversial line of Virgin Mary crisps, which has led to many enraged deacons furiously ignoring his shops.

His concession has rather taken the wind out of our sails...

Richard Branson - expecting to rename the "Virgin" brand in the near future.

Still, it seems a pity to waste a blog post, so here is an alternative account of what happened:

---

I met Elvis C. Leech in his luxuriously-appointed office, which contains statues of Tina Beattie, Hans Küng and Catherine Pepinster as well as the latest issues of the the Tablet and National Catholic Reporter, as he explained his new range of hard-to-swallow products.

Eccles: Elvis, you say that your Virgin Mary crisps are "like the real thing but much drier." What completely batty religious beliefs do you have which lead you to presume that the Blessed Virgin Mary was flavoured with Worcestershire Sauce and chilli?

ECL: Oh, I am a great believer in Nutrition Theology, which associates religious figures with foodstuffs. When one of our staff suggested Virgin Mary crisps, I thought, "What a brilliant conception, Tony! Simply immaculate!" Of course then I had to make certain assumptions...

E: Keep digging, Elvis, you're in a deep hole already.

ECL: Well of course Our Lord is generally linked to bread and wine, so we thought nobody would be offended by our new range of "Christian Butties," which are made with lovingly-baked bread, flavoured with wine made from grapes trodden by the finest French feet.

Grapes trodden by the finest French feet.

E: Will there be any other foodstuffs associated with famous religious figures?

ECL: Yes, our market research suggested that the Muslim community would appreciate Mohamburgers, which of course contain only the finest beef, and no horse meat at all. However, we don't expect to make a prophet with that line. Perhaps we should make them from ham instead?

E: You just do that, Elvis, and I am sure that the Muslims will beat a path through your door.

ECL: There's also our new line of "I can't believe it's not Buddha" margarine. Guaranteed to make you lose weight - to enlighten you, in fact.

I can't believe that's not a Buddha knife!

E: Thank you very much, Elvis. Lots of food for thought there. I wouldn't eat any of it, however.