Diarmuid Martin punishes all his clergy

Archbishop Diarmuid Martin of Dublin has finally shaken off the labels "weak", "spineless" and "pathetic", which he has received so many times, and taken action. He has at last punished the entire clergy of his Archdiocese for affirming Catholic teaching.

It began quietly enough, when he disciplined Fr James Larkin for being dangerously pro-life. Fr Larkin had spoken against the Irish referendum, and pointed out that anyone who had voted "yes" (through ignorance, through weakness, through their own deliberate fault, as the Anglican Prayer Book puts it) should regard this as a sin and go to Confession.

Diarmuid Martin, Dublin's Iron Man.

Now, however, the good Archbishop has noticed that many of his priests are expressing dangerously pro-life attitudes; the others, less interested in the question whether babies in the womb should be dismembered, are still receiving confessions, or at least conducting masses in which the "Kyrie" is present. "Better be on the safe side," he said today, "and punish the lot of them."

There are of course difficulties in exiling several hundred priests to Craggy Island, or dumping them on the Loreto sisters in Rathfarnham, but the good archbishop is working hard to find a solution. The other problem is that Irish churches will no longer have priests to offer Mass: however, in the era of Diarmuid most Catholics have stopped attending church anyway, so this may not be a serious difficulty.

Well done, thou good and faithful servant!

It is not known how Archbishop Martin himself voted on the 8th Amendment Referendum; at the time he made very vague pro-life noises, but obviously the whole point of the Catholic Church is that it should stay in step with whatever secular government is in power. Did not Jesus say "Render unto Caesar whatever he asks of you: God really isn't bothered"?

Many priests in the Dublin Archdiocese are angry with the archbishop for his decision to exile them. One at least has taken the matter into his own hands, or rather feet.

The martrydom of Archbishop Diarmuid.

In view of the wide dislike for Dublin's spiritual leader expressed by ordinary Catholics, it cannot be long before Pope Francis makes him a cardinal. It worked for Cupich.

That lost episode of "Father Ted"

The scene: Craggy Island Presbytery. Fr Ted is sitting in a chair, reading a copy of Tina Beattie's God's Mother, Eve's Advocate, and sniggering at the dirty bits. Fr Jack is asleep in a chair.

The front door opens and Fr Dougal walks in. Ted hastily hides his copy of the Beattie book, and picks up a copy of the Vatican II Document Extra Tedium.

Nothing's wrong with the Catholic Church in Ireland!

Dougal: Hello, Ted. I've just run into one of those funny Redemptorist priests, and he told me to vote for "gay marriage", so I agreed. So tell me, Ted, what is "gay marriage"?

Ted: Now, Dougal, it's when two men or two women get married, rather than a man and a woman.

Dougal: Ha, ha, ha! That's hilarious, Ted! Those Redemptorists really took me in!

Ted (slowly): It's not supposed to be funny, Dougal.

Mrs Doyle meets a Redemptorist (Gerry O'Connor) in a sacred place.

Jack (waking suddenly): FECK! DRINK! GIRLS!

Ted: Now, Father Jack, that's not appropriate language these days! What did I tell you to say?

Jack (puzzled): FECK! DRINK! GIRLS AND BOYS!

Ted: That's much better, Father. We don't want complaints about your being "exclusive".

Fr Jack is given his voting instructions.

The telephone rings. Mrs Doyle answers it.

Mrs Doyle: It's Bishop Brennan, Father. I'll go and put the kettle on in case he wants some tea.

Fr Ted looks at her in puzzled way, but picks up the phone.

Brennan: CRILLY!

Ted: The money was just resting in my account, Bishop Brennan!

Brennan: Never mind that now, Crilly! How are you going to vote in this referendum?

Ted: Well, I thought, since Christ said marriage was between a man and a woman, I'd just vote No. But I'll pretend I voted Yes.

Brennan: Ted, you may vote according to your conscience, provided that you vote Yes. For if I catch you voting No, you'll end up in an even worse place than Craggy Island - I'll send you off to Ballydancer to work with Tony Flannery! The Church needs a Reality Check, Crilly!

The bishop slams down the receiver.

The Pope's report says we've failed our reality check, and we're not worth repairing.

Dougal: I heard all that, Ted. So, does that mean we're not going to be Catholics any more?

Is it still safe for Catholics to laugh at Father Vin?

Reprinted from the Catholic Herald.

Six years on, the popular sitcom "Father Vin" continues to divide Catholics. Telling the tale of three useless clerics marooned on the remote island "Britain", some have seen it as a mockery of Catholicism, while others see it as brilliantly slapstick, surreal and childish.

Father Vin.

Crucially, the ludicrous characters are the butt of the jokes, rather than precious elements of the faith. The humour is gentle, and all "Father Vin" fans have their favourite episode. For some, it is the one where he goes to a synod and can't remember how he voted. For others, it is the embarrassment he suffers when he discovers that "gay" masses are taking place on his doorstep. Yet again, others will remember the difficulties Vin gets into when he tries to silence 500 Catholic priests, only to be reminded that the Pope wants "dialogue".

Father Vin demonstrates against the Catholic Herald letters page.

Of course "Father Vin" contains other memorable characters. We have all laughed at the rather dim Fr Timothy Radcliffe, who is totally unable to understand some aspects of Catholic teaching on sexual matters, and Mrs Beattie, the tea lady, with her "Try another heresy, Father, go on, go on, go on!" However, our personal favourite is the disgraced Father Kieran, with his fondness for DRINK and GIRLS.

"DRINK!"

Perhaps the most popular of all episodes is the "Kick Cardinal Cormac up the backside" story, in which Father Vin is told that the only way that he can become a cardinal is to "give the boot" to his predecessor. Watch this sort of superlative comedy, and you will never wish to say "Down with this sort of thing!"

A bad day for Cardinal Murphy-O'Connor.

The Bishop of Lancaster's blog

Going Deeper Into Our Lenten Journey!

The true roots of Lent lie in Lancaster. We remember the trials of Deacon Donnelly in the wilderness, where he was sorely tempted by a heartless bishop. Hang on, that can't be right. Let's start again.

A new start. It is a year now since the deacon entered into a voluntary period of prayer and reflection on my orders, and many people are wondering how long his exile - which we described as a voluntary pause - will last.

"You will be my witnesses... unless Michael Campbell says otherwise.

My friend Eccles has kindly provided me with the "Eccles scale" by which you can judge the personality of a bishop by the length of the sentence he imposes on his clergy when other bishops are leaning on him to do something.

One week's pause. "A week is a long time in religion", as the saying goes - think of Holy Week. A kindly sympathetic bishop could ask his deacon to take a week off, and then resume his defence of the faith.

Forty days and forty nights. Lent is a time for sacrifice and reflection. I myself will be visiting the poor: some nuns have invited me round for tea and cakes, and we all know that they have a vow of poverty! Also, they make exceedingly good cakes! After forty days of meditation, a wise bishop would be ready to join his deacon in defending Catholic doctrine, and pfui! to the Magic Circle.

Visiting the poor!

Three months. After silencing his deacon for three months, a bishop needs to get him blogging again, or he (the bishop) will be regarded as a cruel taskmaster.

One year. This is getting beyond a joke. In the eyes of many the bishop is no longer a "cruel taskmaster" but a a "hard-hearted dictator".

Seven years. By then I will have retired to somewhere comfortable, preferably with lots of tea and cakes. The new bishop - unless it is someone bizarre like Timothy Radcliffe - will be only too pleased to see what Deacon Nick has to say.

Forty years. On my 112th birthday I shall make every effort to see that Deacon Donnelly's Protect the Pope blog is up and running again. Trust me, I'm a bishop.

Cardinal Burke is in town!

It has been reported that Cardinal Burke is in the Liverpool area, and I expect that he will want to make a pilgrimage to Lancaster, in order to visit a truly holy man (me). Ray Burke has said that priests should not sue bloggers, and I am fully in agreement with this. In my view, they should report the bloggers to their bishops for silencing, excommunication, and possibly chastising with a rope of knotted cords. It is probable that Cardinal Burke will wish to discuss this with me, so I look forward to seeing you, your Eminence. Change trains at Preston.

This sign should help you find me, Cardinal.

Some spiritual nourishment. The prophet Nathan came to King David, saying "There was a rich powerful man, who wrote a 'Bishop's blog' with a vast readership which was sometimes almost in double figures.
Then there was a poor man who wrote a humble blog that had only a few thousand hits per day.
The time came when a sacrifice was demanded, so the rich powerful man took the poor man's blog and destroyed it."
David burned with anger against the man and said to Nathan, "As surely as the Lord lives, the man who did this must die!"
Then Nathan said to David, "Thou art the man!"

Nathan confronts David. Makes you think,eh?

And finally. Don't think I haven't noticed that Deacon Donnelly has been writing a nasty personal attack on Cardinal Kasper and Cardinal Baldisseri in the Irish paper Catholic Voice. That's not going to please my friend Vincent Nichols, I can tell you! The deacon attempts to confuse the issue by using words like "paratheke" (who does he think he is, Fr John Hunwicke?) but it's a blog in all but name. Will nobody rid me of this turbulent deacon?

The Campbell family. Spot the bishop!

---

Postscript. Cardinal Burke came to tea, but he was very cross with me!

But Cardinal, it was a purely voluntary suspension...

'Twas on the Monday morning Pope Francis came to call

With apologies to Flanders and Swann.

Now, let me explain this precisely...

'Twas on the Monday morning,
Pope Francis came to call.
He said a lot of clever things I didn't get at all.
It seems, when he explains the faith,  
Things aren't always made clear,
So I went to phone the Tablet up - a rag we all revere. 

CHORUS: Oh, it all makes work,
For the holy man to do!

Now what Pope Francis meant to say was...

'Twas on the Tuesday morning,
Ma Pepinster dropped in,
She told me that the Pope had scrapped the old ideas of sin.
"Abortion is OK now, 
Same-sex marriage too," she said. [said she.]
But this didn't seem too likely
So I e-mailed Father Zed. [Zee.]

CHORUS: Oh, it all makes work,
For the holy man to do!

What did the Pope really say?

'Twas on the Wednesday morning,
Father Z came in pursuit,
He sold me lots of coffee
And he taught me how to shoot.
He told me things were much the same
As they had been before,
But the day after his visit
I found Dawkins at my door.

CHORUS: Oh, it all makes work,
For the holy man to do!

You want me to walk on THAT?

'Twas on the Thursday morning,
That Dawkins rang the bell:
Once he'd got across the threshold, 
Not so easy to expel.
He said, "God's a delusion
And the Catholics are vile,"
So I had to call a bishop in,
To say something worthwhile!

CHORUS: Oh, it all makes work,
For the holy man to do!

This is not usually the way to welcome a bishop.

'Twas on the Friday morning,
The bishop took his turn.
He said "For abstract doctrine,
I have really no concern.
Just do what seems all right to you,
And not what you've been taught."  
It sounds great, but I wanted
To be sure what the Pope thought.

CHORUS: Oh, it all makes work,
For the holy man to do!

On Saturdays and Sundays,
They're busy down in Rome,
So 'twas on the Monday morning,
That the Pope came to my home!

The scansion, as in the original, is irregular, but it works OK if sung.