The five environmental mysteries of the Rosary

Today there is, apparently, Earth Hour, or St Mother Earth's Hour, to give it the official title. Not to be confused with Earth Day (April 22nd), and - no doubt - Earth History Month, Earth Awareness Week, etc. etc. for those who are really into environmentalism. Accordingly, the Vatican will turn off lights on St Peter's Basilica tonight. Let's hope they don't accidentally turn off the light on Pope Francis's medical support system, as well.

It has also been decided to add a new set of mysteries to the Rosary (well, if Pope John Paul II could do it, why can't Francis?) As usual it will consist of five mysteries, and they are as follows:

Calming the climate change storm.

In the first century, climate change was a big concern of the Roman Empire, and whenever the weather was unusually wet, dry, hot, cold, windy or calm, they knew that fossil fuels were to blame.

Feeding the 5000 on lab-grown burgers.

Locusts and wild honey were a popular Biblical food, introduced by St John the Billgates, but sometimes people wanted more than this. Turning down an environmentally dangerous offer of loaves and fishes, Our Lord came up with a better alternative, produced in His father Joseph's laboratory.

Replacing the barren fig tree with a solar panel.

When Jesus encountered a useless fig tree, which was producing no energy, He cursed it and replaced it with a solar panel, as the best way to Save the Planet. This is why Protestants often use the term "Solar Scripture".

Saying "just stop" when anointed with oil.

"Just stop oil" is probably one of the best-known Biblical commandments, and its origin is the anointing (John 12) when Mary of Bethany made an environmental blunder by using precious spikenard. Naturally, she was stopped in her tracks, and the oil was instead given to a third-world country, where it could be used without harming the environment.

Riding a donkey fed on methane-reducing Bovaer.

The true message of Palm Sunday is often overlooked. It was not simply that a King entered, riding on a donkey, as predicted in Zechariah 9: it was the fact that the crowd were shouting "Hosanna, blessed is he that cometh in the name of Mother Earth."

Usually five mysteries are considered to be enough. Pope Francis did not want to be so rigid, and he was proposing an extra mystery (any suggestions?) However, the fact that if he did so then Catholics would have to buy rosaries with extra beads dissuaded him. After all, nobody wants to be beaten up by angry nuns!

Choose your seat!

I think this is self-explanatory.

Click to enlarge.

New synodal treatment for Pope Francis

Catholics are becoming tired of seeing bulletins about Pope Francis's health that say:

He's a Pontifex and he's OK. He sleeps all night and he works all day,

and have become more impatient to see Pope Francis leap from his sick bed, create newer and weirder cardinals, write new motu proprios about climate change, and generally do popish things. Accordingly, it has been announced that from now on the Holy Father's medical treatment will be Synodal. No more "magisterial" doctrines doctors, just unqualified activists sitting round tables discussing his medication.

Two aspirins or a heart transplant? You decide!

Said Dr Austen Ivereigh, a well-known expert in synodality, "The patient should naturally be one of the main athletes and standard-bearers of synodality, and it seems to me that the best cure for his illness is a kenotic de-centering followed by enlarging the space of his tent."

He went on to say how much he hated "traddy" doctors. He wasn't exactly sure what a traditional rigid doctor did, but he believed that his remedies involved leeches, powdered animal bones, and trepanning. "You don't expect me to attend a traditional surgery to find out, do you?"

Two doctors discuss possible treatments.

The Pope's proposed regime will include a daily dose of Amorislaetitia elixir, some Pachamama injections, and as many Traditioniscustodes tablets as he needs. That way there is little prospect of his becoming rigid, or even turning into a Christian bat preferring the shadows to the light.

ADDENDUM:

The treatment is working! Within a few hours of my writing the above, we see that Pope Francis is on the mend!

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AND NOW IN OTHER NEWS:

"He hates Trump and Vance, so he must be good."

Meanwhile, the entire Catholic world is delighted that Cardinal Robert McElroy has been installed as Archbishop of Washington. He comes from a long line of distinguished archbishops, including Wilton Gregory, Donald Wuerl, and - best of all - Theodore McCarrick. Between them, they have made Washington the sex abuse capital of Catholic America - whether by participating (Ted), covering up (Don), ignoring (Wilt), and - well Bob assures me that he has never met Uncle Ted, so his hands are clean so far.

"He said he'd never met McCarrick!"

Could Bob be the next pope?

An exclusive interview with Cardinal Roche

A slightly edited version of the Catholic Herald piece.

"Three plates of tiramisu will be enough, thanks. After all, it is Lent!"

Cardinal Roche is one of four English cardinals currently serving, and has just turned 75. Following the elevation of Timothy Radcliffe, his title of England's Worst Cardinal is now in danger.

CH: Your Eminence...

AR: Just call me "Holy Father" - after all, you'll be doing that in a few weeks, anyway!

CH: Holy Father, then. This year marks the golden jubilee of your ordination. Could you tell us about some of the wonderful things you've done over the last 50 years?

AR: Well, we 'ad it tough in Yorkshire, you know. No plates of tiramisu then - it were black puddings and chip butties for dinner, if we were lucky. If not, it were lumps of coal and wood shavings. But even when I were a few months old, I knew that I were going to end up as pope.

A young Arthur Roche discerns his vocation.

CH: So you gave up ice skating (© Damian Thompson) and became a priest?

AR: Yes, I were sent to the English College at Valladolid. I had no idea where it were, I thought it were somewhere near Barnsley, but it turned out to be in Spain, where they talk funny. Anyway, after I had learned everything there is to learn about being holy, I ended up in Leeds, where they put me in charge of organizing Pope John-Paul II's visit to York. Telling the pope and cardinals what they must do - well that were good practice for later life.

CH: And you ended up as Bishop of Leeds?

"Yes, my policy of closing down churches were very popular."

CH: And then Benedict XVI asked you to become secretary of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments in Rome - and when Cardinal Sarah turned 75 you got his job?

"Aye, I were always very loyal to Cardinal Sarah."

CH: What advice would you give to those who want to remain faithful members of the Church and love the Latin Mass but find themselves restricted in attending?

AR: There is nothing wrong with attending the Mass celebrated with the 1962 missal.

CH interviewer falls on the floor in astonishment. Bravely carries on...

CH: But you have been trying to suppress it! (Note: the CH didn't actually point this out.)

AR: Ah, but that was before the Pope were taken ill. Of course we all want him to get better - after all I led the Rosary prayers in St Peter's Square on March 4th, and people said that my Italian was the best by a Yorkshireman since Geoffrey Boycott led a Rosary for England during the Headingley Test Match.

Eee, this Rosary's all a mystery to me, lads!

But the St Wilfrid Mafia told me that if I wanted to guarantee becoming the next pope I needed to change tack quickly. Otherwise we might end up with Parolin, Tagle, or some other unspeakable person (er, could you delete these remarks from the final transcript? Thanks!)

CH: Anyway, you have always liked the Latin Mass?

AR: Well, if they only knew that most days I order my tiramisu in Latin because it is the common language for all of us here! Which reminds me, perhaps another plate would be good after all - I'm feeling a little peckish now!

Anyway, I promise you, the TLM is safe with me! Except where it isn't, of course.

How to be the Supreme Governor of a Church

Every so often someone comes up to me and says, "Eccles, my mother has just died, and apparently I am now Supreme Governor of the Church of England. Can you give me any advice?"

I am used to giving advice to major religious leaders - for example, see some of the "How to be a Good Pope" articles linked here, which have made Pope Francis the man he is today. So of course I am happy to oblige.

Well, the Church of England was founded by King Henry VIII, basically because he wasn't too pleased by the Catholic Church's "Till death us do part" attitude to marriage. Henry loved marriage, but only four of his six marriages were ended by death (two beheadings and two natural deaths, in fact, the last one being his own). Now, if you wish to be SG of the C of E you need to model yourself on this saintly character, perhaps by taking as your own wife the lady Camomile, whose husband is still alive.

Now, why are the royal couple defending the faith by packing dates? Read on...

O.K., that's sorted. Now, you may want to make sure that you believe all the official C of E teaching, and share it with your subjects. Luckily there isn't much: nobody (least of all the bishops) can agree on same-sex marriage, women priests, divorce, the existence of God, etc. etc. So we can skip that step.

Your current Prime Minister, although himself an atheist, is VERY FOND of Islam. He'd better be, or else all the Muslims in the country will vote for someone else: probably Liberal Democrats but maybe some sort of Allahu Akbar Party which may cut into your hopes of staying in office. So how can you reflect this in your own activities?

A message from the Defender of the Faith.

Simple: Ramadan is approaching, a time of repentance and sacrifice in which we remember Mohammed's temptations in the wilderness. Devout Muslims fast all day (not even an Allahu Snackbar is allowed) and then they fill up on yummy dates and sheeps' eyes with a big blow-out after dark. So, just like Lent for Christians, wouldn't you say?

So forget Lent, just celebrate Ramadan. Attend an Iftar (Arab word for "binge") and keep telling everyone how wonderful Islam is. We'll be coming soon to Eid (as in "Beware the Eids of March"), which is the Islamic version of Holy Week when we remember the prophet's death upon the cross crescent. And then the Resurrection - oh, he didn't manage that one, did he? Well, never mind.

Phew! There was time for more Christian activity, after all.

Your Majesty, you can thank me by making me Sir Eccles, Knight of the Garter.