Catholic Herald bans comments

To the shock and dismay of the entire Catholic blogosphere, Luke Coppen, editor of the Catholic Herald, has announced that the online CH will no longer accept comments. The explanation offered was that moderating the feedback was too time-consuming; however, it is believed that the real reason was that the CH fileservers were unable to cope with the weight of comments from one particular contributor who must remain nameless.

The CH spent so much time muddlerating comments that nobody wound the clocks.

As a compromise, Mr Coppen has promised that the print edition of the CH will, from now on, include a blank page on which readers can write their own comments. Subscribers will also be given a green biro for this purpose. A request from Paul Priest, Archbishop of Corby, that a dozen blank sheets be provided, has been turned down.

The main person affected by the CH's draconian decision.

Paul Priest writes:

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! OH GOOD GRIEF! WEEBLE WEEBLE!!!! I'M A TEAPOT!!!! You poor fools, you're shutting down the only medium by which orthodox Catholics (and I am the only one left) can express their opinions. How else are we supposed to tell the bishops of England and Wales, the cardinals, the pope, and even some of the saints that they are out of touch? First, Catholic Voices didn't want me - and I could have given some splendid 5-hour soundbites on radio and television. Then you refused to publish my series of articles Apologia pro vitis omnium ceterorum (Apology for everyone else's lives), subtitled "You is not orthodox, only I is orthodox."

The only person who ever listened to me is Damian Thompson - God, how I love that man! No, I don't have a crush on him, but it's no secret that it was due to my efforts that Damian won the Catholic Lovely Legs Contest last year, narrowly beating Professor Tina Beattie.

Tina - lost out to Damian on the "swimsuit" round.

Well, we know who is to blame. Phil, the ex-Telegraph troll with his army of implausible sockpuppets (this is true, E.) and also mad Eccles and his friends. Oh Eccles you think you're so wonderful because you have friends and I don't.

Well, the Catholic Herald is doomed now. I went round six Asda stores yesterday and not one of them had a CH on sale. In contrast, I asked the assistants "Do you have any Tablets?" and they all replied, "Yes, try the pharmacy section." I rest my case. What is clear is that Catholic Herald journalism is going to die out. For example, I know already that Fr Lucie-Smith is planning to give up writing - he only posts his 500 words in the expectation of receiving a 20,000 word response from me, politely correcting his errors and telling him what a nincompoop he is.

Even in Corby Cathedral, orthodox worship has almost disappeared.

Worse than that, the Catholic Church in England and Wales is doomed: there is a systemic catholic dispossession and disenfranchisement, to the extent that outside the major cities catholicism will cease to be, within the next generation - and what are you doing to help? Stopping me from putting forward the orthodox viewpoint, which nobody else is prepared to defend, not even Damian Thompson (see, Eccles, that proves I am not in Damian's pocket!)

Meanwhile His Holiness thinks some sort of balance needs to be redressed... putting the trads back in their box, accusing them of being pelagian, jansenist, ultramontane, anti-conciliar and anti-conciliarity, donatist, pharisaically legalistic, sexually prurient, uncharitably insensitive, coldly insular and alienating... and allowing the more liberally 'pastorally aware' to be given some fresh air and some lebensraum to inspire them to rebuild the Church and bring the lost home... with verbal support in every soundbite and media opportunity... I blame Austen Ivereigh and...

Afraid we'll have to cut you off there, Paul. Sorry!

Now, which sockpuppet shall we use today?

Should noisy adults be allowed in church?

One of my younger readers writes:

Dear Uncle Eccles,

What should we do about noisy adults in church? I am six years old, and I go to Mass with my parents and Lucy, my sister. Lucy is only three, and very well-behaved, usually either sleeping, reading a book such as Charles Kingsley's Water-babies - she scribbles on the heretical parts - or drawing pictures with crayon.

Warning: probably a book to upset Blessed John Henry Newman.

My parents are naughtier, but I am usually able to keep them under control by hissing "Ssshhh!" at them when they start chattering.

However, other adults are not so well behaved. Part of the problem is that they aren't trained to be quiet, as those of us who attend St Tharg's Primary School are. So we often hear adults chattering through those parts of the service that are less exciting than others, for example:

1. the bit before it starts, when worshippers are encouraged to discuss their neighbour's clothes and hairstyles;
2. the sermon - although I personally found it very interesting when the priest said he was appointed only for those who lived in the parish, and he wanted all visitors to get lost;

Welcoming worshippers to the parish.
First polite native: Who's 'im, Bill?
Second ditto: A stranger!
First ditto: 'Eave 'arf a brick at 'im!

3. the prayers, which always sound the same - I'm told that some churches make them more varied by saying "In our cycle of prayer we pray for all who live in Lembit Opik Terrace, for the people of Liberia, for the diocese of Luton and Bishop Loquitur, for all librarians, liberals and libertines, and for all limpets." But we don't do that;
4. the "peace", which the grown-ups just use as an opportunity to cuddle each other (yeugh!);
5. that Scottish song near the end, about someone called Angus Daly, which I don't understand.

Anyway, you get my point. People with short attention spans, such as grown-ups, need something to distract them. Of course they have their smart phones, and so they can (and do) send texts and follow the cricket score when things are getting a bit dull, but it's not enough.

Mrs Emin drew a nice picture during Mass.

So it's bit of a dilemma, really. Most adults are not really needed in order to make the service go with a swing, and there should perhaps be some nursery arrangements made for them, so that we children can worship without being distracted.

Oh, and one last thing. We kids don't like songs such as "Shine, Jesus, Shine" or "If I were a butterfly": we find them patronising. Give us "Salve Regina" or "Iam lucis orto sidere", any day. Then we'll know we're singing a work written by someone who was actually religious, rather than just a greedy entrepreneur. I know the adults like dumb hymns, but we kids do expect something better.

Love, Alex Smith (age 6).

A modern "quiet" church.

The worst Church buzzwords

In response to Fr Lucie-Smith's Catholic Herald article listing ten words and phrases that should be banned from religious life (e.g. "elephant in the room," "outreach" and "guideline"), we have asked a more liberal "Doctor of Immoral Theology" to provide a list of buzzwords that annoy him.

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A traddy priest aggressively wearing a biretta

biretta: in the modern church there is no place for old-fashioned vestments (terms like "chasuble" and "maniple" are equally verboten). It is best if a priest shows that he is no different from other people, so saying Mass in jeans and tee-shirt is recommended. Perhaps a discreet clip-on dog-collar if you want to show you're "staff."

hermeneutic: anyone using this obscure piece of jargon (and that includes Popes who should know better!) marks himself out as someone who is not fully committed to the ideals of Vatican II. If the church is to proceed to ordain women as priests, to endorse abortion and euthanasia, and to allow gays to marry in church - all explicitly recommended by Vatican II - then we need to crush rebels who stand in our way.

kneeling: a most unhealthy custom, leading to arthritis and lumbago. Churches should withdraw all kneeling facilities, and allow the customers to sit down throughout the Mass (perhaps standing for hymns, to allow self-expression by waving arms and doing the occasional jig).

The Last Supper. Only one traddy apostle is kneeling!

Latin: Do we need to say more? The language of Satan. Banned by Vatican II. Who wants to hear a Mass in which abominations such as de gustibus non est disputandum or caveat emptor can be found? Or even veni, vidi, vici?

novena: not a decent English word, is it? All to do with praying on nine consecutive days - if that's not a sign of obsessiveness, we don't know what is!

Gregorian chant: Largely done away with, and replaced by the pioneering work of the blessed Paul Inwood, but it still survives in some pockets of resistance. Ugh. Moreover, Graham Kendrick tells us that he feels insulted that people are attempting to introduce Fulge, Jesu, Fulge as a Gregorian chant.

Pope Gregory I - you can see that he's up to no good

consubstantial: A word re-introduced into the new English translation of the liturgy. Not a word you'll hear in the street! "I hear you're feeling a little consubstantial, Mrs Peppermint! Aren't the tablets working?" What nonsense!

fasting: These days we don't fast, or eat fish on Fridays, or regard Lent as a special period of abstinence. It smacks of an eating disorder if you don't tuck into a healthy Jumbo Offalburger on Fridays (unless, of course, you are a vegetarian, in which case we truly respect your sincere beliefs, but do make sure you get enough calories). Lent's a period for stuffing ourselves with Easter eggs - why do you suppose they are in the shops at that time?

Pope: A chauvinist old fogey in Rome too full of his own distasteful ideas. Don't mention him in polite circles! The word "Vatican" is equally taboo, unless followed by "II."

God: Too controversial a figure in the modern Catholic church. If we are to be able to dialogue with atheists and Anglicans, we must not insist on this. If we must refer to a possibly nonexistent supernatural creator, then the term "sky-fairy" is recommended. We don't want Diarmaid McCulloch or Stephen Fry to laugh at us!

Not a necessary part of modern Catholic theology

The best in Catholic journalism

A few extracts from the work of some of our leading Catholic journalists.

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We Catholics really have our backs to the wall.

Luke Coppen interviews Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O'Connor.

LC: Now, you took part in the conclave at which Pope Benedict XVI was elected. Did you think that you yourself might become Pope?

CMOC: Yes, it seemed very likely, since the other cardinals, whenever they met me, would usually cross themselves and say "Lord, have Murphy" or sometimes "Lord, have Murphy-O'Connor's!" So I had a few names prepared, just in case. My first choice was Peter, but I didn't want to overshadow the other pope who bore that name. So I thought of some less-traditional alternatives, in order to continue our modernization of the Catholic church. Names such as Elton or Sting. Or Eminem. After all, I'm already "His Eminence," so "Pope Eminem," wouldn't have been much different.

LC: I gather you got on very well with Gordon Brown.

CMOC: Yes, indeed. Once you ignore his tendency to throw mobile phones at people, he is really a very nice man. I took to him because we both wanted to reduce the poverty gap between Britain and the Third World. Indeed, I gather that financially Britain is now as broke as most third-world countries, so in that sense you can say he succeeded.

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Where's Wally? Damian Thompson at the Notting Hill Carnival.

Damian Thompson reports on the persecution of Catholics.

Is a shocking new wave of anti-Catholicism sweeping Notting Hill? Consider this: I saw a shop advertising "Catholic and chips," where people were queuing up to eat fried Catholic out of a newspaper. Elsewhere, shops are selling equipment for trapping Catholics by sticking hooks into their mouths.

You won’t have heard about this atrocious persecution. That's because – forgive me – I’ve played one of the oldest tricks in the journalist's book. For Catholics read Fish.

I think I need to go and have a lie down. The noise of the Notting Hill Carnival is driving me mad. Next week, if I'm feeling better, I'll blog about Joyce Grenfell's hairstyle.

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Eccles Ecce Homo, by Cecilia Giménez

Sister Wendy Beckett analyses a newly-discovered fresco.

When we look at this charming painting of our Saviour, what is our first reaction? Do we see a handsome young film star, a 1st century Jewish preacher, or a monkey in a hoodie? What is the artist trying to say here? Is she saying that our Lord is the King of Kongs? Or simply that, if it were not for the divine spark given to us, we should also be merely great apes? Is a monk all that different from a monkey?

The genius who painted this fresco - wonderful in its simplicity and naivety - is saying all these things, and more. Do you remember those lovely words in the Book of Kings? ... brought from thence gold, and silver, and elephants' teeth, and apes, and peacocks. I am sure that Cecilia Giménez had these beautiful lines in mind when she painted her fresco.

When we say our prayers tonight, let us reflect on this painting, on those words from Kings, and on the challenges they pose to us.

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St Stephen of Hungary, one of the politest men ever to use the Internet

St Stephen explains what Fr Alexander Lucie-Smith can teach us about manners

Fr Lucie-Smith occupies an honoured place in the Catholic Herald, and is universally known for his charm and courtesy. He...

Comments

The Archbishop of Corby

Hold it right there, dude! You may be a saint, King of Hungary, and one of the most famous celebrities ever to come out of Esztergom, but that cuts no ice with me, squire.

When someone writes on the Catholic Herald website, we need to know whether they are writing in their capacity as saint, royal personage, and celebrity blogger, or simply in a private capacity.

We in Corby have far more respect for those people who call us "boring pretentious windbags" than we have for those who try to make us "love one another..."

(Another 10,000 words cut here. Sorry!)