What ho, James!

With apologies to P.G. Wodehouse.

Regular readers of these chronicles will know that six years ago, my Uncle Cormac, tired of seeing me lounging around all day, said "Bergie! It's time you got a proper job, so we're arranging for you to become Pope. You'll enjoy it - the Cardinals Club is just like the Drones Club."

Unfortunately being Pope isn't just a matter of saying prayers and looking humble, although that's part of it, and I kept getting into scrapes. For example, my Aunt Dahlia, who used to run a lady's magazine called Milady's Boudoir, asked me to dash off a piece on "How to be a great lover". Since I am Pope, I gave it a Latin title, Amoris Laetitia, and cobbled together a few tips from the works of D.H. Lawrence, Casanova, and Bingo Little's wife Rosie M. Banks, the writer of romantic novels.

However, the critics panned it. Indeed old "Beau Brummell" Burke of the Cardinals Club got together with some mates to send me some thorny questions about the article. Luckily the letter was taken away by "Sniffer" Cocco, who said something about dropping a line, although I hadn't really thought of him as a great letter-writer.

James takes charge.

Recently my luck changed, and James entered my employment, as manservant, valet, spiritual adviser, and physical trainer. The story starts with another of my failed literary ventures, which was originally intended as a jolly children's story about a water-rat, a mole, a badger and a toad, until I realised that this had already been done. So I threw half the pages away and renamed the rest Laudato Si'.

Some time after the publication of Laudato Si', I got a call from "Baldy" Baldisseri of the Cardinals Club explaining that he was organizing a synod, and perhaps I would like to attend. "We're all dressing as Amazonians, but you can come as you are, Bergie, if you don't have a costume. Bring a bottle!"

At that time, James and I were having a slight disagreement. James had been trying to add a touch of colour to my usual white suit - "A rainbow cummerbund would suit you very well, sir, and show that you are hoping to build bridges." However, on this occasion I asserted my authority, and James retired in high dudgeon, telling me that "He who fights and runs away will live to fight another day. Demosthenes."

I had never heard of his pal Demosthenes: probably he's one of those New York Jesuits that James knows intimately. Still, I had won that round.

Bergie and James discuss Demosthenes.

Anyway, I went along to Baldy's synod, and was slightly surprised to see everyone bowing to an ugly-looking wooden statue. James was there serving drinks, and I asked him what the statue was. "I could not say, sir," he replied. "Mr Ivereigh is telling people that it is Our Lady of the Amazon, but he also maintains that it represents Miss Madeline Bassett. Her disciples believe that the stars are God's daisy chain, that rabbits are gnomes in attendance on the Fairy Queen, and that every time a fairy blows its wee nose a baby is born."

"Is that really orthodox Catholic doctrine, James? I'm a bit rusty on it."

"I fear not, sir, although it is one of the aims of the synod to get these teachings accepted as infallible by the Church."

"Hey, I know all about this. When I took over from Uncle Ben, he told me, 'You are allowed to make infallible statements, Bergie, but you're such a numbskull that I really wouldn't advise it.'"

"Quite so, sir."

The cabaret.

I thoroughly enjoyed the party, but the next day, when James shimmered in with the papers, I could see that I was in a dreadful fix, and it would need all James's ingenuity to help me extricate myself. The headlines read:

BERGOGLIO WORSHIPS IDOL OF MADELINE BASSETT. (Catholic Herald).

SYNOD IS PROCEEDING VERY WELL. (Tablet)

OHHH, MY BRAIN HURTS. (Austen Ivereigh for Crux.)

To be continued (?)

What do the yoof really want?

As the Yoof Synod continues on its merry way, we have asked some of the participants to explain what the Yoof really want, as they are obviously too young to decide for themselves.

"Schweinehund! All I asked him for was a little cuddle..."

Cardinal "Rhino" Marx.

It has become clear to me that the Yoof are very interested in LGBT issues, and want us to change Catholic teaching so that same-sex relations are recognised as just as good as marriage. If not better. So far we are being thwarted by those wretched African cardinals, who, as my mate Walter Kasper pointed out, need to shut their traps and go back to Bongo-Bongo land.

As a subsidiary issue, what the Yoof also like is fat hairy cardinals supported by extravagant church taxes, who want to give Communion to anyone who is a fully paid-up member of the Church. I totally agree with them.

"I am living proof that it's not just handsome young men that the cardinals like."

"Rev." Martina Viktorie Kopecká of the Czechoslovak Impudent Hussy Church.

I am deeply honoured to be the only female cleric attending the Yoof Synod. Obviously what the Yoof want is more female clerics, as Jesus obviously got things wrong when he appointed male disciples. Don't be scared, though - nobody is likely to notice that I'm a woman! Indeed some old man called "Uncle Ted", whom I met in the corridor, invited me back to his room by mistake, thinking I was a callow seminarian! Still, he's found his glasses again now.

At this Synod I feel accepted, and my voice is heard. What the Yoof want is more short-haired females dressed as priests. This is all they ever tell me.

Groovy, man! (Click for video.)

Cardinal Chito Tagle, the world's oldest teenager.

They tell me I am likely to be Pope Francis III, following on from that excellent man Blase Cupich as Francis II. Being only 61 years old, I am practically a Yoof myself, and I certainly know what the Yoof like to do - to dance around clicking their fingers, to go clubbing, to listen to Bono Geldof, Red Floyd, Pink Hot Chilli Roses, Guns 'n Peppers, and other contemporary bands.

They call me the "tearful" cardinal, and it's true that I am a very emotional chap. What the Yoof are asking for is a new liturgy where there will be more finger-clicking, and also several places where they are encouraged to burst into tears. Onions will be supplied. Click-click!

However...

"Cardinal Baldisseri has already written a report telling you what you want."

How to organize a Yoof Synod

Yet another episode in our long-running series on how to be a good pope. Remember, if they elected Francis as pope, they might easily elect you, so be prepared!

As scandals rage around you - Chile, China, the USA, the Vatican - it makes for a useful distraction if you have a Yoof Synod running. Ask your dear friend Cardinal Baldfacedliar to write the full documents of the synod well in advance, and stick a "Magisterial" label on them. Don't under any circumstances allow anyone to know what was actually agreed during the synod - it will bear no relation to Baldy's final document, anyway.

Two versions of the Synod Logo.

Now, you need to have a few Yoof in the Synod, say 10% of the number present. Ignore "Uncle Fred" if he telephones you asking you to pick some good-looking ones - it will only get you into trouble. Of course all the decisions will be made by bishops who know what the Yoof want - or, more precisely, by Baldy in consultation with some of your top advisers - so ignore any requests for orthodox teaching, the Mass of their forefathers, or indeed anything religious. Instead, make sure you address LGBT issues, climate change, and plastic straws, as these are the things that Yoof lose sleep over.

Fr James Martin LGBTSJ jets in.

Now you need to get down wiv da Yoof, even if you aren't really going to take any notice of them. Perhaps you could invite some young Catholic rock stars that you know they like - Bono, Cliff Richard, Mick Jagger? Your mentor Cardinal Kasper says that they're all fans of Harry Potter - which is all about the fat wizard Dolandore, Professor McCarrickall, Severus Snapero, and the man we all love to hiss, Viganomort. You see where this is leading?

Get yourself a witches' stang!

In the old days pre-2013, the bishop's crozier was modelled on a shepherd's crook, with the stupid outdated traddy idea that pastors were in some sense shepherds of their sheep. Nowadays we prefer to channel the spirit of Saruman, or Radagast, or paganism in general. So get yourself a trusty witches' stang, and the Yoof will think you are "ace", "cool" and "groovy" (modern English Yoof slang courtesy of Cardinal Nichols!)

Now all synods have committees, and your hope is that these will keep the bishops sober and make them believe they are influencing the Synod. But here comes a snag! Cardinal Sarah-Jane, the man waiting in the wings for you to pop off, has refused to serve on one of them! He cites "personal reasons" but you know that what he's really thinking is: "When I become Pope I'm going to declare this Synod invalid." This is tricky, we must think of more ways to humiliate him (cf. Burke, Müller, Festing, etc.)

And now - let's party with a demon!

The Yoof have written you a letter saying that what they would really like would be for you to celebrate a traditional Latin Mass, with Gregorian chant. But Baldy has "lost" this letter, and reconstructed it from memory - so officially what they want is to go "clubbing". Invite in some more young idols of the yoof - say, Paul McCartney, the ever-young Madonna (age 94), and even that good Catholic Cher. This will keep them quiet, and you can Carry on Synodding.

To be continued?

Francis admits "I didn't know I was the Pope."

After denying receiving any complaints about the activities of Bishop Barros in Chile, and now, most recently having denied receiving the five Dubia from Cardinal Burke and colleagues, Pope Francis has finally come up with a convincing explanation.

"Until I read the news in the paper," he explained, "I did not realise I was the Pope. They told me that, since I was so unpopular in Argentina, I should take a sabbatical in Rome, but I never imagined that I held the top job. Imagine my surprise when the Tablet announced that I was the Pope!"

"Dubia? I see no Dubia."

Apparently there was a large pile of unanswered letters of complaint, demands for clarification, and more, all addressed to "THE POPE", and Francis had been wondering for five years why nobody had opened them. "The same goes for electricity and gas bills," he added. "We've been sitting in the dark for several years, and living on takeaways, since the electricity and gas were turned off. Whenever the Pope, whoever he is, turns up, I hope he will take some action, such as excommunicating members of the Rome Power Company."

The Pope's admission has at least quelled suspicions that Cardinal Baldisseri, the well-known collector of other people's books, had been suppressing the Pope's post. Baldisseri himself admitted that he was too busy manipulating the forthcoming Synod on Yoof in Rome. "I've already worked out what the young people will decide," he explained, "and I haven't even had to meet any. How would I possibly have had time to look at the Pope's correspondence?"

LATE NEWS: God claims: "I never received any prayers from Pope Francis, I just read about them in the newspaper."

Ten little cardinals

Ten little cardinals... or which one became Pope?

"Don't worry, you can lose weight by dancing with the Rockettes."

Ten little cardinals going out to dine;
One ate far too much and then there were nine.

"Nighty-night, Eccles baby! I love you."

Nine little cardinals sat up very late;
One said "Nighty-night!" and then there were eight.

"Never offend people by mentioning Catholic teaching, that's my motto!"

Eight little cardinals defending Alfie Evans;
One wasn't keen on this, and then there were seven.

"Fiddling? No, I'm a pianist."

Seven little cardinals playing dirty tricks;
One rigged a synod and then there were six.

"Hello, everyone, I've escaped again!"

Six little cardinals keeping faith alive;
One preferred to change it all, and then there were five.

"One of these days I really must get round to correcting Pope Francis."

Five little cardinals studied canon law;
One asked some Dubia and then there were four.

"Money makes the world go round. That's in the Bible somewhere."

Four little cardinals on a spending spree;
One made all the money go, and then there were three.

"I can't see any problems with the James Martin approach."

Three little cardinals building bridges new;
One asked James Martin’s help, and then there were two.

"Lutheran? Catholic? Who cares if they pay their Church Tax?"

Two little cardinals at Communion;
One joined the Protestants, and then there was one.

"Oh no, what's Pope Francis up to now?"

One little cardinal left silent and alone;
He became the next pope and then there were none.

Francis calls synod to decide whether he is Pope

Pope Francis has decided, once and for all, to call an Extraordinary Synod on the Papacy, in order to decide whether he is legitimately the Pope.

Is the Holy Spirit trying to hint something here?

Apparently the Catholic Church is divided into three factions:

1. Those who think that Pope Francis is the validly elected Pope, and, although he is "a bit strange", it's perfectly OK, since, after blessing us with a saintly pope and an intelligent pope, the Holy Spirit decided it was time for a change.

2. Those who think that Pope Francis was unlawfully elected as a result of the machinations of the St Gallen Mafia (its "Mr Big", Cardinal Danneels, is said to have put a horse's head in Pope Benedict's bed). Thus we are either sede vacante, or else Pope Benedict is still the Pope.

WARNING: this sort of talk can get you excommunicated, which means that it is far more serious than being an abortionist, a euthanasist, or an active homosexual. It certainly won't get you an invitation to a cushy population-control conference at the Vatican.

Mr Big models the latest in rainbow chasubles.

3. Those who don't really care who the Pope is, or what he teaches, as they are the sort of Catholics who never attend church anyway; they think that Catholic teaching needs to be "updated" to bring it into line with modern secular thinking.

Thus, we expect two years of impassioned debate on the papacy, but, since Cardinal Baldisseri has already written an account of it, we know what will be decided. All that remains is for Pope Francis to write an apostolic exhortation, "PAPA SUM OR NON SUM?", which will summarise the discussion in Jesuitical language so confused that nobody will be quite sure what the answer is.

An omen? A giant Spidero appears outside Ottawa's Notre-Dame cathedral.

Fake News from Rome

During the American presidential election, and since, various organizations such as CNN and the New York Times were revealed to be issuing fake news, mostly slanted towards the Democrats. Headlines such as HILLARY CURES BLIND BEGGAR and TRUMP KILLS TWENTY IN CHAINSAW MASSACRE were produced in order to sway public opinion.

"And then Pope Francis said, 'Dubia? Shmubia!'"

What is not generally known is that the Catholic press (such as Crux, EWTN, even the Catholic Herald) is guilty of similar "fake news" designed to show Pope Francis in a bad light. After all, we rely on these publications for most of our news.

Fake news: The Pope holds two Synods on the Family designed to decide whether Catholic teaching has "developed". Cardinal Baldisseri steals copies of the "Five cardinals" book that are being sent out to participants. After the Synod - or, in fact mostly before it - the Pope's ghostwriters produce a muddled document called Amoris Laetitia ("The Joy of Sex"), which is deliberately ambiguous and bears little relationship to what the Synod has decided.

True news: Cardinal Kasper goes to the Pope and says "Let's have a Synod to celebrate the joy of Christian marriage, as preached by the Church for the last 2000 years." This is arranged, and Cardinal Baldisseri hands out complimentary copies of the New Testament and Familiaris consortio to all participants. Later, the Pope himself writes a short statement in clear unambiguous language, called Nihil Mutat or "Nothing changes".

♫ "Love and marriage go together like a horse and carriage." ♫

Fake news: Four cardinals, of which the most eminent is Raymond Burke, issue five "dubia" to try and ensure that interpretations of Amoris Laetitia do not contradict standard Catholic doctrine. The pope ignores them. In order to get his own back, he appoints a group of ridiculous but sycophantic idiots as cardinals. It would be rude and offensive to mention names, but, you know, C*p*ch and F*rr*ll... Meanwhile, some rogue bishops from Malta decide that, after all, Christ was talking through His crown, and they threaten any of their clergy who disagree.

True news: Some highly-regarded cardinals compliment Pope Francis on his wise teaching. He humbly brushes off this praise saying, "Oh, I'm just repeating what my predecessors said!" He also appoints some faithful bishops as cardinals, including Charles Chaput, Philip Egan and Salvatore Cordileone. Some Maltese bishops ask the Pope whether Church teaching could ever be watered down, and are promptly excommunicated.

Bishop Grech takes up a new career directing traffic.

Fake News: The Pope decides to harass the Order of Malta: he appoints a committee to `investigate' it, which suspiciously produces a massive report within three days. This justifies the Pope in taking over the sovereign state, in clear violation of international law. He humiliates its Head of State, Fra' Matthew Festing, and appoints a puppet government, led by Fra' Pétain. To rub salt into the wound he illegally declares that all actions taken by Grand Master Festing and the Sovereign Council after December 6, 2016 are null and void, backdating his piracy by nearly two months.

True News: The Pope recognises the huge contribution afforded by the Order of Malta, which is in fact far better run than the Vatican. He leaves it in peace.

The new Vatican flag.

Fake News: Following a lot of whingeing by Jesuits, the Tablet and other organizations on the fringe of Catholicism, the Pope asks Arthur Roche to revise his translation of the Latin Mass, dumbing it down into a looser version that can more easily be perverted.

True News: The Pope compliments Arthur Roche on the faithfulness of his Mass translation, closes down the Jesuits ("they no longer serve any useful purpose") and requests that the Tablet remove all references to Catholicism from its pages.

Indeed, the true news is far more plausible.

Saint of the Week - St Antony of Spadaro

St Antony of Spadaro is a much-loved saint, and in many ways the opposite of his namesake St Antony of Padua. When people wish to lose objects - or even to pretend they never existed - they pray to St Antony of Spadaro, and if their prayers are answered, then the embarrassing items disappear and can be totally ignored.

A truly holy man.

A grateful customer, J. Bergoglio of Rome, writes:

I was severely embarrassed when four cardinals wrote a letter to me containing a list of five "Dubia", or embarrassing questions about Amoris Laetitia. However, I prayed to St Antony of Spadaro, and the letter miraculously disappeared as if it had never existed, and I was able to ignore it!

See! All your doubts have disappeared! Just like that!

Since the letter from the four cardinals clearly never existed, we can only speculate what the five Dubia might have been, but here are some likely guesses:

1. Are you still a Catholic?

2. We know you didn't write Amoris Laetitia, but have you actually read it?

3. Is a person in a three-way marriage involving one man and two women, who has murdered a previous wife, who keeps a sex slave in his cellar, and and who is now contemplating a "sex-change", while at the same time feeling an unhealthy attraction to his goldfish, allowed to take communion?

4. Can Jesuits be saved?

5. As cardinals we feel it is our duty to advise you, so will you please take our advice and put Cardinal Kasper in a padded cell?

"Just like that!" A devotee of St Antony of Spadaro attempts to make things vanish.

Another grateful customer, L. Baldisseri of Rome, writes:

Last year we held a synod whose purpose was to think of new ways of undermining family life. However, it was nearly sabotaged when five cardinals produced a book explaining Christian doctrine - which, we all realise, was made obsolete in the 1960s. They attempted to post their book to participants at the synod. However, I prayed to St Antony of Spadaro, and the books miraculously disappeared from the Vatican postal system (Cardinal Pat, with his black and white cat), never to be seen again! Thank you, oh thank you, St Antony of Spadaro!

Cardinal Pat of the Vatican postal service.

The Sockpuppets of the Vatican

One of the most curious cases that I ever encountered with my friend Sherlock Holmes took us to the eternal city of Rome.

The Vatican!

"So, Watson, we have been called in to investigate how the Vatican City, which numbers a mere 840 people, managed to attract 42,000 signatures for an online petition demanding a second EU referendum."

"But Holmes, why do they want another referendum, anyway?"

"Really, Watson, that is childishly simple. They got an answer they did not like, so naturally they wanted to run the vote again. But we are faced here with the interesting case of the Sockpuppets of the Vatican."

"But the Vatican, Holmes? Is this not a crime that one associates more with dens of iniquity such as North Korea or Chiswick?"

Holmes nodded his assent, took out his violin, and played some haunting selections from the works of Paul Inwood. I hurriedly fled into another room, knowing that I could do nothing about my friend's addiction to bad music.

"Now, Lorenzo, here is the list of sockpuppet accounts that you asked for."

When all was peaceful again, I had a suggestion to make.

"Could it be the doing of Cardinal Baldisseri?" I asked. "He is an experienced manipulator of synods, and maybe he has moved into other forms of chicanery."

"I think not, Watson. His hands are full with another matter. Following requests that the last papal conclave be re-run, on the grounds that the St Gallen Mafia had fixed it, he has been masterminding his own response.

Indeed, a giant petition signed by 42,000 cardinals - some with previously unknown names such as Cardinal Eccles, Cardinal Custard and Cardinal Biggles - has expressed its complete and utter faith in the election of Pope Francis. Baldisseri has had no time for other activities."

Another suspect?

I then suggested that Emeritus Pope Benedict, who had retired from the Chair of St Peter, expressing the wish to spend more time in "praying, tweeting and checking up on spiritually nourishing blogs", might have a hand in the sockpuppetry.

"I did indeed consider him as a possible suspect," agreed Holmes. "After telegraphing to my agents in Bavaria, I even discovered that 'Benedict' is not his real name, and that he is known to his oldest friends as 'Holy Joe'. However, he was definitely otherwise engaged when the crime was committed. No, he is not the Napoleon of Crime that we seek."

Meanwhile, the word "Napoleon" had triggered something in Holmes's mind. "Watson, this is definitely a three-prayer problem. Leave me in peace to meditate in St Peter's Basilica - you will recognise it by the moving picture about monkeys playing on the outside - and we shall see if divine inspiration arrives."

After a restful doze through a three-hour sermon from Cardinal Kasper on "Why fornication is the new marriage", Holmes had a new suspect.

Fr Napoleon Rosica? Surely not!

"No, that's impossible," he said. "Surely there must be some other explanation..."

Pope's April Fool's joke falls flat

Pope Francis is said to be "fuming with rage" after this year's official April 1st joke (a long-standing tradition among popes) was released on March 31st, and was therefore taken seriously.

According to the spoof announcement, the Pope's apostolic exhortation based on the Synod on the Family was to be called "Amoris Laetitia" ("The joy of making love" - in itself an obvious give-away), and to be presented by Cardinal Lorenzo Baldisseri, Cardinal Christoph Schönborn, and "a very nice couple I met in the pub" called Francesco and Giuseppina Miano.

When a joke misfires...

"Do you really think I'd trust Baldisseri near my apostolic exhortation?" asked Francis angrily. "He's been manipulating the synod ever since it started, and he still hasn't explained what he did with all those books that went missing."

There is a rumour that Baldisseri hid several hundred copies of the book in the attic above his bedroom, and one night they all fell through onto him when he was sleeping in bed...

Cardinal Baldisseri's attic, before the great collapse.

"And then Schönborn? Schönborn? The man whose own diocese is a basket-case of heresy and dissent?" continued Pope Francis. "Well, I tried to think of someone ludicrous to accompany Baldisseri, but Kasper's started talking to trees and Danneels is preparing to go in hiding, so I thought that suggesting a man who blesses homosexual partnerships would bring the house down!"

Cardinal Schönborn's Flying Circus.

"Then I added Sid and Doris Bonkers - or whatever their names are - just to make things look a little more plausible," concluded the Pope. "Someone suggested 'Kieran Conry and partner', but that was a step too far."

As a result of the announcement's being made on March 31st, rather than April 1st, it is being taken seriously by the Catholic Church, and Pope Francis fears it is too late to rescind it. "Still, I've got another good joke for April 2017," he concluded cheerfully.

Pope Francis thinking about next year's April Fool's joke.

News from the Synod

The Synod on the Family has been going very well this week, but the reports you are getting from people like Fr Rosica of Sue and Litigate Salt and Light are not really getting to grips with the full knockabout excitement that we are experiencing, probably because, unlike me, he doesn't have a red hat, and so can't get fully involved with what the senior people are doing.

We were told that this was an occasion for "dialogue" and our cardinals (and others) have definitely been putting this into practice. Cries of "heretic", "weasel", "bigot" and "worm" reverberated through the Vatican on the first day, and when the reporters came to ask us how things were going we kept a straight face and said that our discussions were "amicable".

After someone emptied a bucket of water on him out of a window, Cardinal Kasper was taking no chances.

Every evening a group of us go to the Cardinal bar, to relax and unwind after a hard day's rewriting Catholic doctrine. We used to play a drinking game, called "Cardinal Puff", as seen on Dad's Army - Cardinal Pell usually wins, as Australians are more used to hard drinking than the rest of us. However it was condemned as "homophobic" by Cardinal Baldisseri, so we gave up playing it.

Chilling out with Pell, Müller, Napier and the lads.

Instead we had a competition, "Guess the weight of Cardinal Dolan", and I won 100 euros. To end the proceedings we debagged Cardinal Danneels and threw him into the Tiber. Well, he deserved it, but it was a bit unpleasant for the fishes.

The next day, after a long session of amicable debate (one cardinal knocked out cold, another taken to hospital with stab wounds, and a third one now hobbling around on crutches), a certain English cardinal, who must remain anonymous, invited us all to a "gay mass" at his titular church, the Chiesa di Sant'Alfonso di Liguori all'Esquilino, but we persuaded him to put it off to a later date. Instead we celebrated the forthcoming "Year of Mersey" by going down to the pub again, and singing Cilla Black songs. They're all pretty welcoming to those with alternative lifestyles, especially "Anyone who had a heart", "Step inside, love", "The other woman" and "Love's just a broken heart".

No gay mass here for the time being.

We're expecting Tina Beattie to turn up at any time, possibly as part of a topless Femen-style demonstration, as she's very annoyed that so many celibate males are discussing Catholic doctrine. It seems that she has problems with the teachings of celibate males, which is a bit awkward for someone who claims to be a Christian.

We have tried to persuade dear Tina that the lovely Cardinal Sarah is in fact a woman, but she is not convinced. Still less, that my own adopted Cardinal Poli is female. In fact, he or she spends all day drawing caricatures of Walter Kasper on the synod agenda, so it's a Poli-Wally-doodle all the day.

"And here's a list of books missing from the Vatican library."

Anyway, the third day's synodding was much like the others (perhaps a bit nastier - we had to call the Swiss Guard in several times to break up fights involving the German cardinals). Our pub visits are quieter now that Cardinal Kasper has been barred for being too rowdy - the landlord thinks that sticking straws in your hair, dancing on the table, and singing "Don't laugh at me 'cause I'm a fool" isn't really conduct worthy of a prince of the Church.

Meanwhile, some of us have been invited round to Pope Francis's apartment for tea tomorrow - at this stage I am not sure whether we'll get something nourishing, or whether it will just be fudge.

The parable of the wheat and the tares

There was a man who sowed good cardinal seed in his field: among the numerous varieties planted there were Burkeus Cappamagnificus, a traditional American grain, Pellus Boomerangus, a robust Australian variety, and Mueller Fortis, one of the few reliable German plants; but there were other spiritually nourishing varieties too numerous to mention.

But then while men were asleep, an enemy came and sowed tares (cockle, darnel) among the wheat, and went his way.

Warning - contains nuts!

Among the poisonous grains were the German weed, Kasperus Absurdus, guaranteed to induce dizzy spells, Danneelus Pervertophilus, the toxic Belgian variety, not to mention the dreaded Baldisserius Liberraptor, and Marxus Stultusbarbus the hideous German creeper. And alas, there were many others.

So when the blade was sprung up, and had brought forth fruit, then appeared also the tares.

And the servants of the good man came to him and said, "Sir, did you not sow good seeds in the field? Where did the weeds come from?"

And he said to them, "An enemy has done this." And the servants said to him, "Do you want us to gather up the weeds?"

"No," said the man, "I have a better idea. We will allow both to grow until the time of the Synod, and then we will harvest them together."

Synod time!

"At the harvest, we'll gather the tares, and bind them into bundles for burning (the CDF tells me we're still allowed to do this); but the good wheat we'll keep. But just to make it more fun, we'll get the wheat and the tares to spend three weeks voting on which of them is the true harvest, and which the poisonous weeds."

We are not sure what happened next.

New glasses for the Pope

Clearly the main item of religious news this week (reported by the BBC, Guardian, Telegraph, etc.) was Pope Francis's trip to the opticians to get new glasses. Previous popes had their spectacles fitted by a special Cardinal Oculorum, but this Holy Father is anxious to show that he is no different from anyone else.

"No, these ones make me look a little too neo-pelagian."

As we all sing "Glory to God in the eye-test", we should remember some of the problems associated with papal visits to the optician. Note that Matthew 6:22 reminds us "The eye is like a lamp for the body. Suppose your eyes are healthy. Then your whole body will be full of light." Thus it is very important for a pope to have good eyes.

On the other hand, one optician started by saying "Holy Father, let me remove that speck from your eye," only to be told "You fool... you've got a log in your own eye!"

Pope-eye the sailor man.

There has been dirty work at the crossroads, however. Cardinal Baldisseri is said to have painted the Pope's old glasses with black paint, in the hope that he would be forced to turn a blind eye to the shenanigans at the forthcoming Synod on the Family. When that didn't work, we are told that Cardinal Kasper broke into the optician's overnight, and substituted a new eye chart for the Pope to read out.

Cardinal Kasper's eye chart.

Well, the Pope avoided this rather obvious trap, and is said to be "very happy" with his new glasses. In fact he has three pairs: one for looking at things in a traditionalist way, one for looking at things from a liberal point of view, and one that just gives a confusing picture of things.

Not the Pope.

We conclude with the song "My eyes are dim, I cannot see", which on this video is sung by someone looking suspiciously like a young Jorge Bergoglio. It is strongly tipped to become one of the special anthems for the Year of Mercy.

Don't forget to do the actions when you sing it at Mass!