Defending an unpopular pope

Most of my readers have never been pope, and probably only one or two ever will be, so you don't realise how difficult the job of a pope is. You probably think that it just involves sitting around in Rome eating pasta, going to Mass, and occasionally saying something about Catholic doctrine. And the latter ought to be easy enough, as just about every issue under the sun has been discussed by previous popes, so you don't have to say anything original, although you can of course rephrase things in your own words. On no account try to change any of the doctrine - only a complete fool would do that, eh?

A pope.

However, popes do occasionally get accused of heresy. Let's look at the case of Pope John XXII, who has been in the news a lot lately, as he was accused of heresy. It all began when an old warlock called Kasperus Insanus persuaded him to hold a General Synod on the subject of Death.

The burning question of the early 14th century was whether those who died in the faith saw the presence of God before the Last Judgement. The traddies said "yes, of course", and the liberals "no". After a heated synod, the pope produced an Apostolic Exhortation A Morte Laetitia ("Happiness from Death"), which ignored the decisions of the synod and expressed his own view ("no") although it was subtly buried in a footnote that could be interpreted in several different ways.

Cardinal Caffara said that only a blind person could fail to find A Morte Laetitia confusing.

Of course, there were cardinals who did not like the idea that Church doctrine was being fudged, so they issued some dubia - questions to the pope along the lines of "Did you really mean to say that?" - "Would you like to try again with that one?" - and "Are you out of your mind?"

For many years the pope refused to answer these questions, responding only in insults and threats. He had many allies, for, on realising that the wise and good had refused to come to his A Morte Laetitia party, he followed the advice of Matthew 22, and went out into the streets and invited the weak, the feeble-minded and the crazy, instead. And he made them all cardinals.

Archbishop Charles Scicluna jumps into the debate.

And some particularly foolish bishops in Malta, hoping that they too might become cardinals, rushed to teach the new doctrine; indeed they went further and said that everyone who felt at peace with God was saved - no matter what sins they had committed or intended to commit in future.

In addition, the pope relied on his servants Spadaro the Wormtongue, Austen the Catholic Vicious, and Rosica the Blockhead to insult those who questioned his heresy, to accuse them of dissent, and of course to fawn over him and lick his boots. However, the war was not one-sided. Learned scribes with Latin names such as Mundabor, Rorate Caeli, and Vox Cantoris waded into the attack. They were joined by an army of canon lawyers and even ordinary Catholics who asked "Well? When do we get to see the presence of God?"

Of course, in the end, the pope backed down and admitted that he was wrong on the issue of admission of the saved to the Divine Presence.

And so...

However, I still have to tell you why we should have warm feelings towards Pope John XXII. All right, he was arrogant, bad-tempered, fond of insulting the Curia, priests, deacons, parish secretaries, and even ordinary faithful Catholics. His discussion of coprophagy would make a nun blush. Still, he is said to have written the prayer Anima Christi, which is said on many occasions, and can even be used as a hymn if you get fed up with "Bind us together" and "Our God reigns" and want something intelligent instead. It begins:

Soul of my Saviour sanctify my breast, 
Body of Christ, be thou my saving guest, 
Blood of my Saviour, bathe me in thy tide, 
Wash me with waters gushing from thy side.

So three cheers for the pope!

I'm too judgemental, admits God

Following some scathing criticism from Mr "Andy" Burnham, who is a candidate for the five-year position of Leader of the Opposition, God the Father Almighty has admitted "Yes, perhaps I am too judgemental."

Only Andy Burnham is qualified to judge God.

God continued, apologetically, "I'm afraid I set up a system of right and wrong that was supposed to last throughout all ages. It took a man of the calibre of Mr Burnham to point out that the eternal verities had an expiry date of 2013. My plan to have a smaller, purer, Heaven, where only people who were by and large on my side could enter, was with hindsight a bit ambitious. It's a much better plan to 'dumb down' and lower the entrance requirements."

God further explained that the Last Judgement had been cancelled, and there would instead be a simple "Welcome to Heaven" party, to which all were invited.

Until now, voting for Andy Burnham was believed to carry certain long-term risks.

God did mention that everyone in Heaven was very impressed with Mr Burnham's words: My kids go to a Catholic school, so I still believe in the values and the grounding it gives you. We did not identify this paragon of education, but we believe it may be one of those new Catholic schools in which words like "God" and "Jesus" are forbidden. Certainly, the progressive view is that there should be no attempt to teach the basic notions of right and wrong, as this is something the children can work out for themselves simply by watching the BBC or reading the Guardian.

Mr Burnham had to read the catechism at school, and says it is powerful, strong and right. So it is right, but he disagrees with it. Yes, yes, Mr Burnham. Have a lie down, now. You've been working too hard, haven't you?

"Tied in knots? Me?" asks Andy.

Pope Francis is also offended at being described as "judgemental". Said he, "The one sentence of mine that people quote is 'Who am I to judge?' even if they take it out of context. Mr Burnham could at least credit me with having no judgement - after all, it's what my enemies in the Church tell me."

Near-death experiences

In view of a near-death experience claimed by Dr Eben Alexander, which is the basis of his new book Proof of Heaven, we asked some of the regular characters appearing on this blog to describe their own near-death experiences.

---

Bosco, worshipper at the Calvary Chapel, and saved person.

Hello, could I speak to Jesus, please?

Eccles, you poor sick monkey, I had a rotten experience when I tried to save a convent of nuns, and I was badly beaten up by them. As I lay in hospital, near to death, I found that I was standing outside the Gates of Heaven, explaining to St Peter that all Catholics were idolaters, and should be sent to the Lake of Fire. "I am saved, even more than you are," I told him. "I've come for my throne and my golden crown."

St Peter is shocked by Bosco's blog.

"Ah, Bosco," said St Peter. "I've been reading your blog, and we've got a totally different fate for you..."

---

Damian Thompson, formerly a religious journalist.

Damian is the one alone at the front, whom nobody else will talk to.

The first thing that struck me about St Peter, when I saw him, was that he was putting on weight. In fact, the whole tone of Heaven was very disappointing, and I was totally unimpressed with the angels, who were definitely smirking at me. The music was not Gladys Mills plays Beethoven, as I had been led to expect, nor even something by my friend James MacMillan, but a dirge that sounded like an eternal repetition of "Alleluia Ch-ch."

Angels - what dreadful hair styles they have.

---

Moly, aunt of Eccles and Bosco.

A recent photo of Moly.

Well I don't believe in God or Heaven, but I did have a very strange dream last night when I finally dropped off. I was in Paradise, wearing my new Moly Number 5 cigarette- and gin-scented perfume. But I was surrounded by possums, all jumping up and down, and there wasn't a bottle of gin to be had anywhere. "It's endless torment for you," said a loud voice to me, probably one of those bullying traddy Catholics. Woeful.

Vicious possums. They're out to get me. I know it.

---

Father Arthur, of the Church of St Daryl the Apostate.

I'm a priest in good standing, you know.

Well, I wasn't going to stand any calumny from the man waiting for me at the Gates of Heaven, so I got my attack in first. "May I remind you, 'Saint' Peter, that as recorded in the 26th chapter of the book of St Matthew, and elsewhere, you denied Christ on no less than three occasions? Does that give you the right to comment on the behaviour of other people? I am a priest in good standing, with no time for your traditionalist ways. Haven't you people heard of Vatican II? Now clear off, and let me do your job properly for you."

The Last Judgement. But Fr Arthur will willingly give you a preliminary verdict.