Church of England "the greatest dream realised for human beings"

Justin Welby (currently leading in a Twitter poll to find the silliest Archbishop of Canterbury in the last 25 years, in spite of stiff competition from Rowan Williams and George Carey) has stated that the European Union is "the greatest dream realised for human beings" for the past 1,500 years.

He is too modest. For a team of EU Grandees (Jean-Claude Juncker, Donald Tusk, old Uncle Verhofstadt and all) have reciprocated by pointing out that in fact the Church of England is the greatest dream realised for human beings since... well, since before Christ in fact, as all HE could do was to found the Catholic Church.

Can I join, Justin?

As the grandees pointed out, the Church of England is unique in that it is the only religion that caters for all possible beliefs. Do you believe in the existence of God? Yes? No? Welcome! Do you believe that women can be priests? Yes? No? Doesn't matter. Are you pro-life? Yes? No? We don't care! How about same-sex marriage? For? Against? It's all the same to us. Are you a Muslim? We probably have a church for you too.

The only (well not the only) church in which any fool can be a bishop, and many are!

Everything you expect in a church... except God.

Being a Catholic isn't easy. You're suppose to avoid sin, and, since this is basically impossible, you have to confess, be absolved, and start again. Anglicans don't have this problem, as the only sins they acknowledge are Euroscepticism, Climate Change scepticism, and of course a lack of enthusiasm for Equality and Diversity in all shapes and sizes (oops, a dwarfophobic comment there).

Great job opportunities!

Catholics are also supposed to attend Mass once a week. This seems so dreadfully unfair, when Anglicans only attend church three times in a lifetime - once to be drenched from the font, once to get hitched to some person of the opposite (?) sex - well maybe more than once in this case - and once in a wooden box, when the priest will say how wonderful you were, and the congregation will sing "My Way".

Contrast that with a Requiem Mass, in the Catholic tradition, where you will maybe get the Dies Irae, which is a little poem explaining that the dear departed was probably unsaved, and is certainly going to have a rough time at the Day of Judgement.

Women who dress up as Catholic priests just aren't taken seriously! Unlike Anglicans, ha ha.

Nope, as the Three Wise Men of the EU have pointed out, Anglicanism was a wonderful step forward for the human race - well done, Henry VIII! Indeed, an Anglican's life is tailored to your individual needs. Why, no wonder the churches are full to the brim.

Oh... aren't they?

Cardinal Wolsey claims success in Europe

London, 1529.

Ahead of the forthcoming referendum on whether the Church of England should remain part of the Catholic Church (a referendum in which only kings called Henry Tudor will be allowed to vote), prime minister Thomas Wolsey has returned from Europe claiming success in his negotiations.

"Call me Tom" Wolsey.

According to the negotiated settlement, King Henry will be allowed a quota of six wives, of which a maximum of two may be executed; most importantly, the first marriage may be annulled on the solid theological grounds that Henry is a lecherous slob. Caveat: these demands will be granted subject to a "red cardinal" system whereby they have to be approved by a majority of all the cardinals.

Other "English" demands will also be granted within a time-frame of at most 500 years (this is called "applying the emergency brake"). These include the right to conduct masses in English, with or without clowns and puppets, and to sing silly songs about Jesus shining and being Lord of the Dance. More extreme Anglican demands, such as the right to ordain women, are still rejected by the Catholic Church.

Thomas Cromwell, star of the Guardian's "Cromwell is free" pages.

The "leave Europe" campaign is currently being spearheaded by two theological giants, the blogger Cranmer and the very influential Thomas "Let's dissolve the churches" Cromwell.

It therefore seems unlikely that "Tom" Wolsey will be able to avoid defeat in the Reformation Referendum, and his future is now very uncertain.

How do saved persons vote?

In the UK, we are in the grip of election fever, and many of my readers are struggling to decide which party or parties to vote for. When you see the policies now considered acceptable by almost all parties: abortion, euthanasia, assisted suicide, same-sex marriage, sending children up chimneys, recapturing Calais, exporting all British ducks to Mars, taxing custard, making it compulsory to recycle all used socks, independence for Scunthorpe, free orange juice for Damian Thompson, locking up all bald people, exiling Stephen Fry to Fiji, ... you realise that nobody has any policies that a saved person could support. Except perhaps the one about Stephen Fry.

This is how a saint votes. Note the expression of distaste.

The main question at present seems to be "Do I listen to Bishop Kenney, who says that UKIP is unsaved, or do I listen to Bishop Egan, who reckons that practically every politician is unsaved?" At a more basic level, is the European Union the New Jerusalem prophesied in the Book of Revelation, or is it the new Babylon, to be consumed by fire? I don't know: perhaps it's somewhere in between the two.

"Roger Helmer says he can beat up the two of us single-handed."

We come now to the question of Romanians: are they saved? For some reason, these have been singled out by some as the worst Europeans to have as your neighbours. Here, however, I have some personal experience.

Our new next-door neighbour.

Recently, a Romanian nobleman, the Earl of Dracula, moved in next door to us. He's basically a very quiet person, and apparently works nights. Indeed, I never see him in the day time, although occasionally he drops round in the evening and asks to borrow a cup of blood

Apparently, our neighbour supports the Romanian Independence Party.

Basically, he's a model neighbour and I don't see what all the fuss is about. I've got other problems: my Brother Bosco, who has a habit of saying "Bite Me!" whenever he loses an argument (which is most of the time), seems to have gone missing. I do hope he hasn't been annoying the Earl of Dracula.

Finally, to answer the question raised in this post: go to the polling-booth, write "unsaved" against the name of every candidate standing, and write "only I is saved" at the bottom of the ballot-paper.

No other course of action is possible. Indeed, if you look carefully at the photo of Padre Pio, you can see that he did precisely that.