This is the spiritual journey of me, Eccles, my big brother Bosco, and my Grate-Anti Moly. Eccles is saved, but we've got real problems with Bosco and Anti.
This is me, Eccles
Tuesday, 16 February 2021
The Wind in the Vatican
With apologies to Kenneth Grahame
"Do you know," said the Brand-Moler, blissfully drinking a huge tankard of German beer as he sat in the garden
of the Pope Emeritus. "I've hardly ever been to these
apartments before."
"Really?" said the Ratzinger solemnly. "To my mind there is nothing
at all so worthwhile as messing about in the Vatican."
"What a day I'm having, Ratty," continued the Brand-Moler with a sigh
of full contentment. What's in the picnic basket?"
"Following papal advice, there's Legumes," replied the Ratzinger briefly. "BroadBeansLentilsPeasPeanuts BakedBeansChickpeas MassimoFaggioli PulsesRunnerBeans..."
"Oh stop, stop!" cried the Brand-Moler in ecstasies. "This is too
much! What a feast, Ratty!"
A feast.
Presently Cardinal Raymond Badger entered. He had been visiting
an area
full of mysterious warrens, from which strange little faces
would peep out at intervals to say things like "Hail Pachamama!" "Let's build a bridge towards the weasel community" and "Won't anyone buy my new
book Pope Francis on the Orient Express?"
"You know Toad's got a new Magisterium?" said the Ratzinger to the
Badger once the Brand-Moler had been introduced. "A completely new one. He crashed the one his ancestors handed down to him."
"I know," said the Badger gloomily. "One of these days he'll
get locked up, for sure. I've heard that the Jesuweasels are just
waiting to over-run the Vatican as soon as his back's turned. Then
they'll bring in rainbow flags and Ignatian yoga."
Three cardinals in conclave.
"Why don't you stop him?" asked the Brand-Moler.
"You don't understand," explained the Ratzinger. "Nobody stops Toad.
It always has to be something new. One day it's a change to the Gloria, the next it's a new version of the Lord's prayer."
From somewhere close by came a distant whirring sound, which
gradually rose to a crescendo. Then there was a mighty crash,
and the Toad came flying head-first over the hedge, to land in a
nearby ditch. As the animals hurried over looking very
concerned, the Toad extracted his head from the mud: lying in
the ditch with a contented smile on his face, he sighed and
muttered to himself: "O bliss! Oh my! ...
Amoris Laetitia ... Laudato Si' ... Fratelli Tutti ... Pope-pope! >>> CRASH!!! <<<"
Getting an answer to the Dubia.
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Have a prayerful and 'spiritaully nuorishin' Lent. An OFM Capuchin brother in Chester whoi I've known for thirty years just recommended some Lent reading to me, "So many people are going down the rabbit hole you mentioned," he writes. "Pope Francis’ new book ‘Let Us Dream’ might be the easiest antidote." Have you heard of it, Eccles? I may get myself a copy. Pax et bonum.
ReplyDeleteToad as Francis. Now that's a hermeneutic.
ReplyDeleteGood jolly old "different norms".
ReplyDeleteWonderful adaptation, Eccles. With Jesuweasels!
ReplyDeleteBrings back happy memories of the 1983 film starring Ian Carmichael & Michael Holdern.
Oh bother! Oh blow! Hang all this spring-cleaning at the Vatican!
ReplyDeleteThis may be your best yet Eccles.
ReplyDelete