How to write your own Dubia

This is the latest in our "How to be a good Pope" series, principally intended for those of our readers who one day will get a nudge in the ribs and a cheerful cry of "You did it, Mussolini! Go out and dictate!" Yes, apparently friends call you Mussolini, but you have never understood why.

The story so far: after eight years, you have decided to kick your predecessor Pope Benedictus in the teeth by scribbling off an apostolic letter "Trads are Cussed" which will severely restrict the out-of-date rigid Latin Mass on the grounds that it is divisive because it doesn't stop every ten minutes to say how wonderful Vatican II was. In fact most of the bishops ignored TC, probably because they knew you had made up the results of the questionnaire on which you based it.

Nevertheless, a lot of people are very cross about "Trads Cussed", and even your attack poodles such as top biographer Jane Austen Ivereigh (author of "Pride and Prejudice - a biography of Pope Fred") aren't managing to win the argument. What is to be done?

Cardinal Sally has left the Congregation of Divine Worship, and, using a theological principle known as "Buggins's Turn", you have given the job to Uncle Arthur Roach, his former deputy, even though he's obviously a complete goon. But how to proceed? You can't just write a sequel - Trads Cussed 2 - as people will just think you were too feeble to get it right first time.

"Shall I send a DVD to all TLM parishes?" asks Uncle Arthur. "That's what we did in Leeds."

But then you have an idea! About five years ago, four cardinals sent you a list of five "Dubia" with the idea of clarifying your previous apostolic exhortation "Amorous Letitia", all about the life and times of a woman of easy virtue who sorted out her problems by "discernment" and "accompaniment". Of course you never got round to answering them, because the St Wormwood Mafia who appointed you said it was better not to.

But you get the idea? Let's make up some Dubia and answers, which do not actually clarify "Trads Cussed" but turn the screw a few more notches. Uncle Arthur, although a jolly chap especially when he's full of cake, doesn't quite understand the idea, and his first few suggestions were:

Dubium: Are we pleased that Cardinal Burke is well again? NEGATIVE.
Dubium: Should Uncle Arthur be made a cardinal? AFFIRMATIVE.
Dubium: More tea, Fred? NEGATIVE.

Amazingly, there really is a Dubia Roach. See Wikipedia.

Actually, life is a bit embarrassing for you at the moment, as you accidentally praised the New Ways Ministry, which has already been condemned by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. You are expecting Ladaria's Spanish Inquisition to drop in any minute.

"Oh, hello. My main weapon is fear. Fear and surprise. Two main weapons."

Also, people started laughing at you when you came up with the slogan "No more Mr Nice Guy!". Still, when it's translated into Latin it will replace your papal motto "Miserando atque eligendo" ("lowly but chosen") as a more accurate description of your rule.

So you knuckle down and make up some more Dubia. Things like "Should Catholics be excommunicated if they tell others that a TLM is going on? YES - KILL KILL KILL - I'm sorry, I mean - AFFIRMATIVE." Or "Are priests allowed to use the same missal twice in one day? NO - SERVE THE BLIGHTERS RIGHT - I mean - NEGATIVE." It doesn't matter how silly the questions are (none that a real Catholic would ask, although maybe your ultramontanist friends at the "Where Pacha Is" blog would be crazy enough), the answers should sting. Never mind that last time "Trads Cussed" was criticised by Kim Jong-un for going too far - it's time to go further!

And if anyone mentions Dubia, you don't need to change the subject any longer.

How to receive papal guests

Yes, it's another one in our series "How to be a good pope", containing top tips for those readers who may end up with the big job without having a clue how to do it. There are no training courses available, not even Youtube videos, so future popes tend to come here for advice.

As a pope you will naturally receive visitors wishing to benefit from your wisdom, to give you a piece of their mind, or simply to get a bit of free publicity (thinking of you, Austen, Greta, Fr Jimbo...) Let's have a few case studies.

Tip 1: Do not scream "heretic" and call for the Inquisition.

The Anglican bishop of Norwich, Graham Usher, drops in, bearing sumptuous gifts, namely a jar of honey (formerly the property of Richard Dawkins) and a bee facemask (no, this is not something to protect bees from Covid-19). Now, this is the bishop in whose cathedral there was a helter-skelter two years ago and a plastic dinosaur skeleton this year. What can his Lordship possibly want? Is he going to advise you to set up a helter-skelter in the Sistine Chapel, or a dinosaur skeleton in St Peter's Basilica (a nasty jibe against the priests who used to be allowed to offer Masses there)? Or is it simply that he expects you to liven up the tombs of the saints by surrounding them with beehives?

Have a quick photo opportunity, and send him packing. Keep the honey, though, and wear the mask at your next papal audience to frighten the pilgrims.

Tip 1 (bis): Do not scream "heretic" and call for the Inquisition.

The Wicked Witch of the West is your next visitor. Another one seeking a photo opportunity, and perhaps a papal endorsement of her activities. You instantly find common ground with her - you both hate the Big Bad Orange Man - and you get on like a house on fire. Unfortunately you can't accede to her wishes that you donate a few million dollars to Planned Parenthood - Vatican finances are a bit rocky at the moment - but she has your blessing.

You hear later that she attended a Mass in Rome and was booed out. Well, that's been happening to you quite a lot recently, especially since you declared war on the entire pre-1960s Catholic Church - so you can sympathise.

And now some visitors you definitely don't want to welcome.

Tip 2: Set the papal poodles (Antonio and Austen) on unwanted guests..

Cardinal Tao has arrived all the way from China, and wants an audience with you. There is absolutely nothing in this for you - no photo opportunity, just a 30-minute lecture on why it is a bad idea to let a totalitarian dictatorship run the Catholic Church in China. Pretend you're out. Pretend you're ill. Don't bother to pretend, just lock the doors.

Tip 2 (bis): Set the papal poodles (Antonio and Austen) on unwanted guests..

Finally, one of those irritating Dubia cardinals is still trying to get in to see you. It's been nearly five years since four of them wrote a letter asking you to clarify Catholic teaching by answering five simple Yes/No questions. As a Jesuit, clarifying teaching would be unprecedented behaviour, and make you very unpopular with the Superior, Arturo Sausage. Clear off, Ray.

Which reminds me...

According to Wikipedia, the gentleman above is called a Dubia Roach. The name may remind you that there's a great fan of yours at the Congregation for Divine Worship who is looking for a red hat in an extra large fitting. Indeed, he recently said "the post-Vatican II missal of Paul VI is the 'richest' the Church has ever produced." Come on, invite him round for tea (order lots of cinnabons) and give him what he wants!