Pope John-Paul II and his women

A special report by Ed Satan, presenter of Radio 4's prestigious religion and ethics programme, "Soaraway Sun Day".

The Only Way is Ethics.

There is no actual evidence that Pope John-Paul II, a figure remembered by some Catholics, was the Casanova of the 20th century, with a string of mistresses, illegitimate children and bigamous marriages, but, using the techniques of innuendo, misinterpretation and scandal-mongering - or investigative journalism, as it is technically known - we are forced to come to this conclusion.

Even in his childhood years, Karol (an alias that John-Paul was probably using for the purposes of deception) was known to be fond of a Polish schoolteacher called Emilia Kaczorowska, who died when he was eight years old. Affectionately, he would call her "Mamma", and he would often tell her he loved her, and give her gifts on her birthday. Pretty shocking stuff, you'll agree, especially as she was 36 years older and already married to a man called Wojtyła.

The mysterious Emilia Kaczorowska.

Later, the young John-Paul became a devoutly religious Catholic. Of course, this can take many forms: for example, I know of one pious Catholic - technically, I suppose he's a sinner, ha-ha - who left his wife and three children and ran off with another woman. It would be wrong of us to judge such a person, especially as he now presents a BBC flagship programme on religion and ethics.

In John-Paul's case his Catholic faith was combined with a mysterious devotion to a woman known only as "Mary". The young priest would keep statues of this woman in his house, and even write adoring letters to her (I have in my possession one that begins "Hail Mary, full of Grace", unearthed by the brilliant John Cornwell, author of Don't be so hard on Hitler, it was all Pius XII's fault).

We have not been able to make a definite identification of "Mary", although she is believed to have been a Jewish woman with strong Christian sympathies. Well, that's a reasonable assumption.

The unknown Mary.

When it comes to Anna-Teresa Tymieniecka, a philosopher, we are on surer ground. Indeed, we have definite evidence that John-Paul II spoke to her, even when he was Pope. This would be the first time that a reigning pope had spoken to a woman since Pope Pius X asked his tea-lady for an extra biscuit in 1910. At the time this was considered a great scandal, and it led inexorably to World War I a few years later.

Now, unfortunately, we have no evidence that John-Paul was in love with Anna-Teresa, nor she with him, but the journalistic techniques of innuendo and creative writing lead us to the inescapable conclusion that they had a torrid love affair and that she was the mother of sixteen of his children.

We have seen his letters to her, which, couched in the language of philosophy, make damaging reflections such as "It's a funny old world," "There's nowt so queer as folk" and "You never can tell, can you?" What can these be but a coded way of expressing his deep passion for her?

Scandalous photo of Pope John-Paul in a compromising situation.

I repeat, there is no evidence whatsoever that Pope John-Paul broke his vows of celibacy, However, as the Gospel puts it, "There's no smoke without fire," especially when I'm the one making all the smoke. Don't get me wrong - I'm not condemning "The Sexy Pope" - after all if Christ had one message for the world, it was that there is no such thing as sin. But the whole issue should embarrass the Catholic Church, and force it to realise that Good and Evil are equally valid lifestyles. Which suits me fine.

Adopt a saint!

I have just come across a program that assigns you a random saint. Of course I had to try it, and out came St Gotthard of Hildesheim, who was new to me, as I presumably am to him too.

My saint.

From now on, we expect to be better acquainted, but Gotthard (if I may call him that) seems to have his hands full looking after travelling merchants; he is also invoked against fever, dropsy, childhood sicknesses, hailstones, the pain of childbirth, and gout; not to mention those in peril of the sea. It is unlikely that I shall ever suffer the pain of childbirth, unless it means my own birth, which was a distinctly rough experience, what with the doctor, who had never even met me before, thumping me on the back and then cutting my umblical cord. No wonder I hated the experience.

Hailstones are another matter - these are presumably a meteorological condition, rather than a medical one (that's gallstones), and like almost everyone else I am occasionally troubled by them. Saying "Hail, Mary" doesn't seem to be quite right here.

Pray to St Gotthard! Or alternatively, just go indoors.

In a previous piece I adopted a cardinal - Ouellet, who does not seem to have acknowledged the gifts I sent him: Eccles cakes, a statue of myself, and a copy of my autobiography Eccles, the man of destiny. Part 1: the unsaved years. Later, I adopted a deacon, and then a pope: in this case, Hyginus, the first pope never to have been canonized. I'm still working on that one,

So now I have to think of ways of supporting St Gotthard. Obviously a few preliminary prayers are in order, of the "Hello, Gotthard. I'm your patronized human; may I invoke your help some time?" sort. Then perhaps one day I shall make a pilgrimage to Hildesheim, which is not far from Hanover. He'd like that.

On my way...

For a saint, Gotthard had a relatively dull and uneventful life. He was a monk first, then became bishop of Hildesheim in 1022. During the fifteen years of his episcopal government, he won the respect of his clergy, as Wikipedia puts it: a custom that has long since died out in Germany. He also got some thirty churches built, which is something of a miracle in itself.

All in all, I am quite happy with my adopted saint. Presumably he will accept prayers in English: everyone understands English IF YOU SPEAK LOUDLY ENOUGH. Or maybe Latin - how nice to have a universal language available for all purposes to do with spiritual nourishment. I'd better start now: is that a touch of gout coming on, or is it just pins and needles? Salve Gottharde...

Hospice in the St Gotthard pass.

Vatican II - 50 years on

Monsignor Basil Foltus, who in 1962 was a high-flying priest in his late forties, played an important role in persuading the Second Vatican Council to throw away the Church's ancient traditions. He reflects modestly on some of the reforms he instigated.

Basil Foltus as a young priest

Which way should the priest face at Mass?

The answer to this question was obvious to me. When I ride on an omnibus, I don't want the driver to turn his back on me, in order to see where he's going, I want him to turn round and talk to me. "Monsignor Foltus, how kind of you to grace our humble omnibus with your presence! Where do you want me to take you?" he should say. In the same way, the priest should turn round, face the congregation, and ask them, "Where do you want me to take you?"

Pre-Vatican II omnibus crash on Loftus Bank, Yorkshire

Or to put it another way, should a church be more like an omnibus, or a theatre? Do we go to church because we want to follow the priest towards God, or because we want him to entertain us?

Latin - Requiescat In Pace

One casus belli at the 2nd Vatican Council was which lingua franca we should adopt for masses de futuro. We had an in camera debate on this, and I saw that it was ipso facto necessary to lead the Catholic faithful into terra incognita. You may well say "De minimis non curat lex," but whoever heard of the plebs speaking Latin? After all, cui bono?, as I pointed out. This made me a persona non grata in some circles - I remember saying "Et, tu, Brute?" to the Pope himself - but "Carpe diem" is my motto, and muttering "Excelsior!" to myself, I went on to make a prima facie case for abolishing Latin, using a powerful reductio ad absurdum argument ad nauseam, namely, "Vox Populi, Vox Dei." Having won the debate, my only thoughts were "Labor omnia vincit." Well, "Veni, vidi, vici," and we may finally say, "Quod erat demonstrandum!"

We never sing "Cave canem" at Masses in my church

Significantly, Vatican II was an opportunity to give the liturgy a good shake-up. When people come to Confession with me, I no longer ask them to say five Hail Marys as a penance - no, they are told to sing "Shine, Jesus Shine" five times. They don't come back, I can tell you!

Giving a lead to the church

Although, nominally, the leader of the Catholic Church is now a young chap operating under the alias of Benedict XVI, I still see it as my role to direct the faithful away from the sort of fuddy-duddy traditionalism that might have appealed to my father's generation - people such as Augustine and Aquinas, that is. Vatican II was the New Pentecost - the time that the Holy Spirit settled on Basil Foltus and inspired him to lead the Church into pastures new.

The author (in striped dressing-gown) witnesses the New Pentecost

I am a strong believer in free speech, and you may have heard of my threats of legal action against Fr Michael Clifton and Fr Ray Blake - dreadful traditionalists clinging to outmoded beliefs. I simply wanted them to have their say, of course, and I thought that a court of law might be the best place for it. But, in general, the Catholic Church appreciates all that I have done for it, and I still receive tokens of esteem from grateful worshippers.

A gift from an anonymous admirer

De confesions of Bosco

I is pleased to see dat my dere bruvver Bosco has passed a good nihgt despite bein concused by Grate-Anti Moly's lapptop. She aint takin de blame, of course. In fact she have found a blogg postin dat Bosco made in 1996 sayin dat Austrialans cant be saved because Jesus would be upside-down if he went dere. She is usin dis as eviddence dat he atacked her first. Still, de finggers of supsicion are bein pointed at her, and she may decide to go away soon, especially as she has drunk all our gin.

Bosco sure was restless overnihgt as he kept talkin in his sleep. "I is a grate sinner," he said. "I confesses. It was me wot did 9/11 single-handed. I also stole all de gold in Fort Nkox and replaced it wiv chocolate wrapped in gold foil. I set fire to Rowwan Williams's beard. I filled Eccles's boots wiv treackle. I pinched Damain Thopmson's touppee when he came to visit. I covetted my neihgbour's servin-girl, except dat she slapped my face and said 'Stop covettin me, you pig'. Mea culppa, mea maximma culppa (dat's Lattin, it means 'It's a fair cop, I dunnit all rihgt, officer', and Cathlics says dat a lot). I got demons tormentin my sole, and I reppents."

I dont believe most of dem confesions of Bosco's although it is true dat my boots is a bit sticky, and dis creature what I thought was Bosco's pet hamster reely aint very lively. Here she is.

Grate-Anti Moly has gone out now, she says dat Bosco is drivin her mad wiv his confesions, and still dey go on. He says he is repsonsible for the Irish Potatto Fammine cos he got hunggry and ate all de potattoes. He is worried dat de police is gonna find out dat he is reely Jack de Ripper. Now he says dat it was him wot burnt de cakes and not King Alfred. Also he murderred Hamlet's father, and pinned de blame on Claudeus.

All rihgt Bosco darlin bruvver I will nuss you back to health, so dat you can go back to writtin your blogg and bein saved. Also Father Eel de Nutters of de Cathlic Emrggency Confesion Task Force have said dat you can stop confesin now, just say 200 Heil Marrys and you is forgivven. Den you can go back to bein a sinner as usaul.

Well I doesnt want to disturb Bosco in his fraggile state of health, but we has to be on de alertt for iddolatry, and here is somefink dat I saw on de TV, it was probbaly a religgious program. He's an uggly lookin saint aint he?