How to be a Good Pope

Since it is quite likely that two or three of my readers will end up as Pope one day, it would be helpful to give them some advice how to behave themselves. Otherwise, like a certain Argentinian who must remain nameless, they will go down in history as "A Good Man, but a Bad Pope."

Pope Alexander VI. A Bad Man but a Good Pope. Possibly.

O.K. So the conclave is over, and Team Thargoglio (a bunch of dodgy cardinals who really ought to have known better) has managed to get you elected. Choose a papal name appropriate for the dignity of your office: so "Pope Custard" is out, but so are "Pope Judas" and "Pope Pontius", even if these are Biblical names. I suggest you choose a previous pope that you greatly admire (perhaps not Peter, as that would be a bit too cheeky), and become the next in line: Pius XIII, John XXIV, Benedict XVII, according to taste. Or you can choose a saint's name that hasn't been used before, e.g. Pope Bosco, but it is a little eccentric.

The same goes for Pope John Vianney, alias Pope William Hartnell.

Now, popes are supposed to maintain a tradition that goes back two thousand years, so DON'T rush to change things. You may not like red shoes, but wear them, as they have a significance that you may not have been told about. Don't go and live in some weird place where popes have never lived before, e.g. a simple cardboard box in the catacombs beneath the Vatican: it may give you a reputation for humility, but it may also give you a reputation for being difficult.

A humble pope.

Likewise, if the papal chef is offering to cook you a Lobster Thermidor aux crevettes with a Mornay sauce, garnished with truffle pâté, brandy, and a fried egg on top, and Spam, then it is very rude to slope off down to "Il Nosho de Sid", the Vatican café, for a plate of pasta. Even if it makes you look like "one of the lads".

"The chap in white - haven't I seen him on the telly?"

Now popes are supposed to be above petty politics, so don't rush to reward your friends, or to punish your enemies. Saying to a distinguished Cardinal, "Look, Ray, we're having a three-week 'bring a heresy' party next October. All your craziest pals are coming - Cupich, Wuerl, Dolan - but you're not invited" is just rude.

This self-help guide needs to broken up into two or more pieces, so I'll stop there. Just remember, Pope Innocent - or whatever - that you are not there to rewrite doctrine, or to push your favourite theory (whether it's climate change, homeopathic medicine, or the belief that the world's economy is being manipulated by dinosaurs from outer space). Stick to Christian teaching wherever possible, OK?

"Could you direct me to the Stock Exchange, please?"

Oh, and DON'T give impromptu interviews to journalists. They're not to be trusted.

Homosexuals and Christians through the ages

Some readers may have noticed that the relations between practising homosexuals and Christians (and, before that, the Jews) have evolved over time.

1712 B.C. Some people in Sodom and Gomorrah ask Lot to make a "gay cake" for them. Not only does he refuse, but the entire cities of the plain are consumed by fire and brimstone. This is regarded as a perfectly normal outcome, with the real problem being that Lot's wife is turned into a pillar of salt. The next day he goes back with his mother-in-law hoping for an encore, but it is not to be.

A wife's lot is not a happy one (happy one).

29 A.D. Christ points out that marriage is intended to be between one man and one woman, presumably realising that this is the "dream team" for producing babies. A few years later, St Paul and other disciples remind people that homosexual acts are really not a good idea, at least for people who want to be saved.

67 A.D. The Emperor Nero marries Sporus, a eunuch. He also has sexual relations with his own mother, and another same-sex marriage (this time in the role of "bride") with Pythagoras - not the expert on hypoteneuses - and he rapes a vestal virgin. Some of these activities are still legal in various parts of the world, although even Enda Kenny is not yet campaigning for all of them. Tell me he isn't...

Enda Kenny gives a fiddle recital.

The Dark Ages. Not much homosexuality around, in fact not much of anything. Also, St Patrick expels the cakes from Ireland.

Medieval times. A typical conversation between monks: "Brother William, I think you have got beautiful legs. May I bake you a cake?" "These are wicked thoughts, my brother. Go and mortify your flesh with a cold bath." Problem solved.

Brother William gets cross with Brother Peter.

The Renaissance and Reformation. The fragmentation of Western Christendom isn't much to do with gay rights. Henry VIII ends up with six wives, all vaguely female. Martin Luther marries Katharina von Bora, although he is arguably the greater Bora. Queen Elizabeth I is too busy persecuting Catholics to find time for marriage.

1600-1950. There is no homosexuality until it is rediscovered by Alan Turing. He is also supposed to have had something to do with computers, codes and mathematics, although this is largely forgotten nowadays.

A Turing machine. Used for surfing the web, cracking German codes, and so much more.

1960s. Sex is not discovered until 1963 when Philip Larkin works out what it is. A homosexual version is legalised around this time - at least between consenting adults in private. Hippies, free love, Vatican II, Basil Loftus, Jimmy Savile, ... these are exciting times.

1990s. Everyone agrees that it would be silly to allow men to marry men, or women to marry women. What a hilarious idea!

Well, that's what it was like.

2010s. Everyone agrees that it would be cruel and wicked discrimination to forbid men to marry men, or women to marry women. The Christian churches mostly stand firm, although oddballs such as Giles Fraser, the Redemptorists in Ireland (overlooked by St Patrick in his snake-expelling days), or even Bishop "Dirty Donal" McKeown of Derry, decide that perhaps Christ didn't really know what He was talking about.

Cardinal Dolan at the St Patrick's Day Gay Pride march.

2015. Some people in Belfast ask Mr Lot to make a "gay cake" for them. When he refuses, they rain fire and brimstone on his shop, reducing it to Asher's. Most saved people go into hiding, but those remaining ask for a referendum on whether Christianity should be legalised. Watch this space...

Don't let Pope Francis turn into Sylvester McCoy!

In a very interesting piece for the Catholic Herald, Tim Stanley complains that the modern Dr Who character is becoming too atheist. There has been a change from the Jon Pertwee days, when the Doctor was almost certainly a staunch Anglican - if the Anglican Church was the Conservative party at prayer, then Dr Who was the Anglican Church hiding behind the sofa. Over here we have observed a different phenomenon: the Catholic Church is being led by a new Pope, who bears a suspicious resemblance to Sylvester McCoy.

Pope Francis (L) with Guido Marini.

The signs are all there - a general feeling of bewilderment, as if the Holy Father is unaware what forces he has unleashed, together with an air of total chaos as nobody really knows what direction the Church is heading in. Pope Francis's aim is not to judge anyone (except when he chooses to, of course) and the state of play in the fight between good and evil is generally uncertain.

Pope Francis has an ecumenical meeting with a Buddhist from Kandy.

Contrast this with the more rigorous, formal, regime of Pope Benedict XVI. Here of course the Doctoral model was William Hartnell, a thoroughly orthodox but much stricter character, who wouldn't suffer fools gladly.

Pope Benedict gets tough with a renegade monk.

Pope Benedict made great use of his Tardis to visit earlier times: one famous story in which he was involved was Summorum Pontificum, set in Rome. Here, the language of Latin was used throughout (although when shown on television it was dubbed into English).

Pope Benedict explain the use of Latin in the story Summorum Pontificum.

Before the Pope regenerated into Benedict XVI, the role was played by John-Paul II, who may be seen as a Patrick Troughton figure: saintly, but sometimes prepared to clown around. Still, a good man to follow when fighting Cybermen, Yeti, Communists, etc.

Pope John-Paul II working on his latest encyclical.

Pope John-Paul II was known for visiting many far-flung parts of the Universe (he would usually kiss the ground on the planet when his Tardis landed). As a result he met a plethora of exotic creatures, many of which seem to be immortal.

A meeting with Cormac Murphy-O'Connor.

However, the Sylvester McCoy model is definitely prevailing in the Catholic Church right now. So, what shall we see next? A female Pope is as unthinkable as a female Doctor, even though his arch-enemy managed to regenerate into a woman (the Mistress Beattie). Moreover, we are unlikely to see a Pope along the lines of ultra-liberal modernists such as Tennant or Capaldi. We may end up with a Colin Baker - some cardinals really have no taste in vestments - but a calm, sophisticated pope with fantastic hair is expected next time round.

Br Pertwee (R) - the next Pope?

The Fall and Rise of Damian Thompson

I have long watched the career of Damian "blood-crazed ferret" Thompson with interest - indeed I contributed to the comments section of his "Holy Smoke" Telegraph blog as "Eccles", the brother of the idiot "St Bosco", until I was banned. Then I contributed again as "ThisIsNotEccles" - but the moderators were not fooled by my subtlety and I was soon banned again. Later I was cunningly "Incongito" - this was in the days before I got a secretary, Ecclesiam, to help me with the typing - but that didn't last long either... Anyway, the blog you're reading would probably not be here, were it not for my response to the activities of Brother Bosco on Damian's blog.

Supporters of Bosco protest at his banishment from Damian's blog.

As I have recorded elsewhere on this blog, Damian's blog was originally full of religious news and discussion, hence the nickname "Holy Smoke". Later, however, a distinct dumbing-down was noticed, especially after Damian started to write a Saturday column in the Telegraph. Less frequent were the references to Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O'Connor or the Ordinariate, and more frequent the mentions of cupcakes, custard, the pianist Gladys Mills, and the actress Noele Gordon. Occasionally, there were snippets of religious gossip, such as the plots against the Nuncio, and the prediction that Fr Alban McCoy would become the next (Catholic) Bishop of Leeds. This event has yet to come to pass.

Damnit, Damian! I'm a doctor, not a bishop!

Finally, however, Damian parted company "amicably" with the Telegraph, as we have recorded already; Jason the Mekon, ruler of the Treens of northern Venus, was brought in to dumb-down the newspaper further. Luckily Bryony Gordon and Bill Gardner, formerly of the Brighton Argus - and who better to write about Dull and Boring Day? - are still there to back up the few grown-up writers remaining at the Telegraph, such as Tim Stanley and Tom Chivers.

Gardner of the Argus's greatest scoop.

So what of Damian? Of course he was still doing casual journalism for the Catholic Herald and the Spectator, but otherwise he was alone in the world with his collection of 10 million CDs, his Gladys Mills piano, his royalties from the Fix - soon to be a major blockbuster starring Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz - and a significant pay-off from the Telegraph.

Damian received a substantial "Golden Cupcake" from the Telegraph.

Well, a few weeks later we learned that Damian had been given a real job at the Spectator. Of course, he had to begin at the bottom, as the tea-boy, but we all have to start somewhere, and the senior Spectator staff appreciated having their tea poured out by someone who could talk knowledgeably about Wagner, custard, Islam and of course Catholicism as he helped them to sugar. Promotion was inevitable: like the chap in H.M.S. Pinafore who "polished up that handle so carefullee, that now he is the Ruler of the Queen's Navee", we could sing about Damian, "At making tea so good an operator, that now he is an Ass. Ed. of the great Spectator". An Ass. Ed. is nothing to do with donkeys, but is an Associate Editor, which is a very grand position indeed.

Cristina Odone is called in to help Damian interview a new tea-boy (R).

So the story has a happy ending, and Damian is blogging on religious matters again at the Spectator's Coffee House - or Custard House, as it is to be renamed. In-depth articles are appearing:

Bravo, Justin Welby! Much better than Rowan Williams! (even Anglicans get it right sometimes, eh?)

Fr Jean-Marie Charles-Roux - the priest with the William Hartnell hairstyle (ah, comments on hairstyles make me nostalgic for the old Telegraph days) and

Even the atheist left realise that Richard Dawkins is a bigot (a bit of an open goal, that one).

Ad multos bloggos, Damian. Will I be allowed to comment on your posts though?

The Abbot of Amboise, a lookalike of Fr Charles-Roux.