The curse of St Gallen

There's not much spiritual nourishment in this post, I'm afraid. At the beginning of April I was rushed to hospital in an ambulance - I was throwing up even when I hadn't just been reading something by Ivereigh, Martin, or Faggioli - and it turned out to be the Curse of St Gallen, or gall stones (Cormacus Murphius Oconnus, as doctors call them).

Number 1: choose the next pope.

It was all very exciting, as I hadn't spent a night in hospital since childhood - when they took out my appendix by traditional methods involving a bottle of rum as anaesthetic, and lots of leeches. This time I had one of those modern MRI scans, which is a bit like sitting in a nuclear reactor being bombarded with intense magnetic fields; these are supposed to reverse the polarity of the neutron flow, or at least tell them where every proton in my body is. So they had to operate.

Hospitals are very noisy places - don't expect any peace and quiet there. Apart from being woken up at 3 a.m. for readings of temperature and blood pressure, I had to put up with neighbouring patients playing their radios at full volume, until the nurses pointed out that this was worsening the death rate.

Worst of all was a mad Pole who shut himself behind his curtains and started screaming at his mobile phone, obviously unaware that these things are amplified, and you don't need to be directly audible in Krakow. What can a peaceful saved person do? Well, I scribbled "Quiet please!" on a napkin and chucked it over the curtain. Probably I got a direct hit, as he came rushing out looking very angry, while I seraphically pretended to be half asleep.

The dawn of keyhole surgery.

Anyway, no rum and leeches this time, it was all going to be done by keyhole surgery. The idea is that they make four little keyholes in your stomach, insert the keys, and then turn them, as you might wind up an old clock. Fantastic.

So now I am at home, convalescing. Has anything spiritually nourishing happened in the last week or two? I gather that Pope Benedict managed to upset all the right people, that Pope Francis has been kissing the feet of infidels, and that the Dubia still haven't been answered. Business as usual, then.

N.B. Without a gall bladder, I should be producing less bile directed at atheists, heretics, modernists, LGBT activists, etc. So from now on it's fluffy bunnies and rose petals...

The new gall-free Eccles blog.

How to be a Good Pope 3

We continue our helpful guide for the use of readers of this blog who may find themselves sitting in the Chair of St Peter: however, this is probably not more than two or three of you, and not at the same time.

In Part 1 and Part 2 we told the story so far:

Three years ago you were elected Pope, and decided to take a papal name that had never been used before. Accordingly, you became the first Pope Bosco, named after your favourite saint.

A saved person.

Last year, you announced an Extraordinary Year of Hospitality (this being one of the Jesuit Works of Mercy), and - under pressure from some of your more liberal cardinals - a Synod on False Witness, to help decide whether compulsive liars should be allowed to take communion. The problem of course is that many politicians, lawyers, journalists and Jesuits - who are paid to tell lies - feel excluded from the Catholic Church. The Synod was a great success, and six months later only three of the bishops who took part are still in intensive care.

The Baldisseri Ward for synod-related injuries.

So now you have decided to write an Apostolic Exhortation to summarise teaching on the subject. Let's give it a catchy title, so that search engines will find it when people are looking for online porn: Appassionata Erotica? Mulier Voluptua? I'm sure that Up Pompeii! and the Carry on films will give you some ideas here.

Now, think about the length: St John's Gospel is about 15K words, but of course nobody is going to read St John once your own Rara et Curiosa hits the airport bookstalls. I suggest you go for about 60K words, which is the length of the longest Agatha Christie whodunnits. This comparison is well chosen, as your own work will also be a mystery, and many bits of the plot will remain unresolved.

Surely, "Why didn't they ask Heaven?"?

Now writing 60K words may seem like a tall order, but you can quote extensively from papal encyclicals, Vatican II documents, and even perhaps the Bible. There is no need to be concise, to stick to the point, or even to have any particular ideas in your head when you compose a particular section - hey, the Holy Spirit will direct your fingers! Or if not the Holy Spirit, then the Spirit of Vatican II. Go for ambiguity and confusion, so that nobody actually knows what you're trying to say. That way, you are not likely to contradict any established Catholic teaching, and, if a future Pope comes along who actually wants to give helpful advice to Catholics, he won't end up having to condemn you as a heretic.

A future pope, with some extraordinary ministers of Communion.

When you go out, leave your computer switched on so that passers-by with nothing better to do (the cleaner, Cardinal Kasper, Thomas Rosica, etc.) can add bits to the exhortation if they feel like it. Of course there is a down-side to this, because people may smuggle in footnotes that seem to suggest a complete rewriting of Catholicism. Still, if you are asked about them - say on an aeroplane trip - you can always say you don't remember, and you certainly weren't aware of any of the 200 blogs and newspaper articles so far written on the subject!

If things are going badly, it may be worth causing a distraction. We recommend either:

(a) Take an aeroplane trip. Pretend you are going to reach out to Lesbians, but instead come back with a few Muslim families. Refugees make good cooks, cleaners and cardinals - well, better than some of the ones you've got at present!

Warning! Do not approach this man - he may strangle you!

(b) Get involved in politics! Choose a suitably left-wing and anti-Catholic politician, and have him round for tea and Eccles cakes. If anyone says that you are meddling in politics, then show a sensitivity for mental health issues by suggesting they look for a psychiatrist. This is a much more explicit insult than the usual "airport gnostics, leprous neo-Pelagians, existential parrot-Christians, Renaissance functionaries and pepper-faced tourists", which is how you normally describe your flock, but it will make up for all the vagueness and imprecision in your encyclical Rumpus Pumpus.

Good luck!

NO 3: the Liturgy of the Word

Continued from Part 2.

This is the third instalment of our guide to some of the delightful things you may expect to see in the Ordinary Form Mass. It's time for the Liturgy of the Word, and today we're sending all the children out into the church hall so that they can receive their own instruction, while the grown-ups get a slightly more advanced version.

This Sunday we have the story of St Peter in prison, so the little darlings are going to draw a picture of him.

St Peter in prison, by Phil Evans (age 6).

For the grown-ups we have three readings, concluding with the Gospel, and then we come to the most exciting bit of all, the homily or sermon. Settle down, now, and let's see what spiritual delights are on offer.

I think I'll turn my hearing aid off now.

Now there are three options for the homily, and you may experience any of these.

1. The Bishop's Letter. Once a month +Fred sends out a letter to be read by all parishes. Bishops are often quite intelligent people, so this may be the best option - but if you're unlucky it will be about +Fred's holiday at the seaside: "I was walking along the beach at Hunstanton, and I thought of Jesus, who also used to go to the seaside, although it was at Galilee, and they didn't have seaside rock and donkey rides."

The Sea of Galilee - no candy floss available.

More likely, the bishop will impress you with his learning. "I was reminded of the words of Chesterton, who quoted Aquinas as pointing out that St Matthew had reported Our Lord as saying 'Lo! The people have no candy floss.'..."

2. The priest makes up a homily himself. This can be very good, or it can be very bad. At least if he's reading his own words the priest won't roll his eyes and talk in a silly voice.

3. Worst of all, you may just get: "One of our parishioners, Antonia Flannery, has recently been to India for three months, helping in a hospital there, and she's going to tell us of her experiences."

So Antonia tells you all about the hardships in Indian hospitals, where they don't have all the NHS facilities such as managers, equality and diversity coordinators, health and safety officers, etc. and have to make do with doctors and nurses.

Oh good, Antonia's going to show us her holiday snaps.

Antonia went to Mass in India, but it was in Tamil so she didn't understand much. Do NOT at this point shout out "Why didn't you go to a Latin Mass?"

All too soon, the homily is over, we say the Creed (Nicene if there's time, Apostles' if the priest thinks we're running late). There's a bit in the book about bowing when we talk about the Incarnation; don't do that, as you'll probably be the only one, and people will look at you wondering whether you've just had a heart attack.

Well, that's about it for the Liturgy of the Word, so let's welcome back the children with their pictures of St Peter in prison.

Now, Daryl, how did St Peter get out of prison? 
DID HE DIG A TUNNEL?
No, Daryl, try again. Didn't God send someone to rescue him?
OH YES I SAW THAT, IT WAS MISSION IMPOSSIBLE. ST JOHN PUT ON A 
RUBBER FACE MASK AND IMPERSONATED THE GUARD.
No, Daryl you imbecile. You weren't paying attention.

Mission Impossible - St Andrew infiltrates the prison.

Eventually, you do get some meaningful responses from the children, and the Mass continues. More next time.

Conservations in hopsital

Well, floods of messagges for Bosco has bin commin in from well-wishers. Indeed, de Calumny Chappel had a collection for a pressent for him, and raised 35 cents and ten rossary beads as a token of de respeck dey has for him. Here is my big bruvver manfully bearin up in de face of de wuonds inflicted on him by de nunns.

Well Bosco is bein kept under seddation, and in de hopsital dey is asked not to mention de followin prhases, which sets him off:

* Cathlics.
* De Pop.
* Cemment iddles.
* Bosco's scarlet and purple pajamas.
* Gold cups.
* Gravven images.
* St Mary.
* St Peter.
* Love de neihgbour.
* Well, anything at all religious, reely.

Bosco have become very dificult to talk to, because he aint very well. When I starts a conservation he dont listen, but just reeches for his iPadd and starts downloadin wise words from the Internett in responsse. For example.

Eccles: De Telegrahp wants de stateu of St Cristina back dat you won as a prize, Bosco, dey sez dey sent de wrong one, dat one was kissed by Damain Thopmson, and have been pinin for him ever since, I'll git it wraped up and sent off when I gits home.

Bosco (reading): We can reveel dat World War II was started by Pop Pious 12, cos he wanted to send his tanks into Russia, after Stallin had taken over his drugg business. At de same time in Enggland Carddinal Hinsley sent a hit squad to Irreland to murder de poet W.B. Yates.

Eccles: Dat's nice, Bosco. Anti Moly's got aressted for screemin in a graveyard at midnihgt, even thuogh it's part of her job. Some of de corppses fought it was de Last Trumpp and started poppin up. De cops releesed her, but dey told her to give up de gin and said dat sherry mihgt be better at her age.

Bosco (reading): We can recognisse de Anti Christ cos in de Bibble it is prediccted dat he will come from Germanny and have de initials JR. He will later adopt a false name beginnin with B and go and live in Rome, he will wear a fishy hat and someone will giv him a pair of red shoes. When he appears rememmber to put on cleen underware as de battle of Armagibbon will be startin.

Eccles: Foine, dat's foine, Bosco. Damain Thopmson sez dat Proffesor Tina Beattie is gonna lecher on Lummen Genttium in a catheddral, woss Lummen Genttium Bosco is it some sort of French perfumme?

Bosco (readin): It wasnt until 2008 dat de Cathlic church stopped burnin poeple who didnt buy a cement iddle to put in dere huose to worshipp. It is a scientiffic fact dat de averagge hieght of de humman race has gone down since 1992, when de Cathlic church stopped stretchin poeple on de rack. Stepphen Fry says dat he was origginally only about 5 feet tall but he was torchered on de rack as a young man because he owned a Bibble and now he is 6 feet 5 inches tall.

Eccles: Oh I gives up.

I would ask my bruvver Bosco's advise on dis pitcher of an iddle but he is indispossed at pressent.

Perrhaps he will soon be abble to take his rihgtful place in soceity agin.

Bosco in hopsital

Well, we left our heroes (Bosco and Eccles) lyin in de street outside de local Cathlic churhc, havin been ejjected by de nunns of St Rambo. Dis was simply for tryin to save dem herettics by singin "Bite me, O Thou great Redeemer" durin de Mass. I landed on my head and was not grately injurred, but Bosco he broke lotsa bones, and was taken off to de Generral Hopsital.

I forgot to mention dat Bosco he put up a good fihgt before he was overpowered, as you can see by dis pitcher of de Cathlic churhc after he finished wiv it. It susstained a little structarul dammage.

On Bosco's bed at the hopsital there were various signs. "NIL BY MOUTH. DO NOT RESUCSITATE. WARNING, DIS PATTIENT HAV BITTEN 3 NURSES ALREADY."

Bosco was sittin up in bed readin de "Hummanist Timmes" when Anti Moly and I came in to vissit, barin gifts like de three Maggies. Anti Moly handed over an empty bottle of gin, sayin dat she was sorry but she got thirtsy on de way, and I bruoght him a lovely shirt dat he can wear when Jessus comes, so dat he dont forgit dat Bosco is saved.

"Wossat 'Humorist Times' paper, Bosco?" I asked. "Have it got cartoons? I likes MickyMoss and Donald Duckham, dey always makes me luagh wiv dere commical antix."
"Nope," said Bosco. "It got lotsa fine artickles about de Pop, and how he is repsonsible for de massacre of de innocents cos at de time he was in Herrod's Army. Joanne Hairy says dat he has interveiwed Herrod and he is now ready to reveal de truth. De time for a cover up is over."
"Is de writers saved?" I asked. "Dat's very important, innit?"
"Well, it don't say," replied Bosco, "but dey aint Cathlics, and dat's de most important fing. Dis paper's very good, too, dey're my kind of poeple."
He showed me a copy of "Jihad and Jihadmen", it had a pitcher of a bearded man wiv a hook on de cover. I fought it was Captain Hook, who is in de Peter Pan story dat we has in de Calumny Chappel on Sundays, but dey said he was called Abbo de Hamster.
"What else you got to read, Bosco?" I asked.
"Well, dere's a Gudgeon Bibble here," replied Bosco. "Dat's very good, it's de original King James version, exackly as God wrote it. Afterwards, de Pop transslated it into Greek and Lattin, and made lotsa delliberate errors, cos he didnt want poeple to be saved. For exxample, dere aint no 10 Commandmeants in de Cathlic Bibble."

Bosco turned to anuvver maggazine, and when he saw it he screemed dat Sattan was tormentin him. Dis is de cover.

Den Bosco openned de magazine and saw a pitcher of a nunn makin a cemment iddle, and dat finnished him off. If he hadnt been wearin banddages and straped to de bed, I fink he'd have broken up de hopsital ward.

Dis is de foul fiend dat leads poeple into iddleterry, shockin innit dat dey can pubblish such filth.

I hopes you gits well soon, Bosco.