How can a pope make friends?

Yes, it's another one in our "How to be a good pope" series, directed to those readers who are suddenly pushed out onto the papal balcony and told "You've got the job. Now go out and be spiritually nourishing."

It's a lonely job being a pope. No more nights out in the pub with the lads. An endless round of visits, audiences, church services... irritating people wishing to be introduced to you so that they can publicise the latest instalment of their fawning biography, Pope Fred - the greatest saint since St Augustine of Ivereigh? World leaders that you don't like...

Always smile to welcome visitors, even if you don't like them.

It's said that students at university spend the first week making new friends and the next three years trying to get rid of them. In your case you got the job because of the influence of the St Wormwood Mafia, and as a result you have people like Cardinals Casper, Dandruff, Morphine-O'Corblimey, etc. all thinking that you owe them something. But you would prefer to choose your own friends, rather than members of a power-crazed pressure group.

When you started your new job there were plenty of people prepared to give you a chance: the whole Catholic Church in fact, at least for the first hour or two. However, you have a knack for causing annoyance to people, either by invading Malta, writing odd documents such as Amorous Letitia, accusing people of being "rigid", or simply building up your collection of Pachamama idols. Cardinal Bulke refuses to come to dinner, Cardinal Sally gives you penetrating glances, and even Cardinal Müllet points at you and taps his head significantly.

The answer is to take the Christian attitude. Make friends of people whom everyone else regards as beyond the pale. If possible, promote them to jobs way beyond their level of competence.

"Father Jimbo. They tell me you're beyond the pale. Welcome!"

Promoting Fr Jimbo (as above) might be a step too far, although you can appoint him as an adviser, provided that you ignore his advice. Here's another example in which you can give a vote of confidence to a complete no-no.

Rhino Marx, the last of the famous brothers.

Cardinal Rhino is a special case, as he comes to you and says, "I'm a total failure, and I resign!" Well, he's right, but you can earn his everlasting devotion by giving him a big hug and saying, "Stay on, Rhino! At least you're not as bad as Nicholas Vincent of Westminster!"

Another new friend.

One final example. Cardinal Tubby of Noahsark (whom you made "eminent" as a little joke) has got himself into trouble by sending indiscreet tweets and mysteriously associating with actors. So what can you do to earn his undying worship? Promote him to the Supreme Tribunal of the Apostolic Signatura! This job comes with a papal knighty-knighthood, and he'll love that.

This way, you can guarantee that you are surrounded only by yes-men, but be warned! Some ingenious people may get to see you even if you having been avoiding them for years...

"Now about China..." Cardinal Tao wears an ingenious Spadaro-man disguise in order to get near you.

How to preach today's sermon

Following a spiritually nourishing blog post from Fr Tim Finigan, entitled How to listen to the sermon tomorrow, we propose a little help for your priest/ vicar/ pastor/ worship leader/ big cheese (this is an ecumenical post) in case he/ she/ xe/ brie (and a polygendered post) has to preach on the subject of the Wheat and the Tares (a.k.a. Darnel). One of the following templates is sure to work.

Trouble at Ambridge.

Brother Bosco of the Calumny Chapel: Brothers, we is Wheat and everyone else is Dranel! Altogether now, raise your arms in the air and shout: "You is not saved, only we is saved!" And especially the Cathlics with their Babylonian fish hats, their cannibalism, and their costume holy men, they is very unsaved! For those of us what knows Jesus personally, He says to us "Brother Bosco, you is Wheat, my son, and you has a golden crown waiting for you when you pops off to the Glassy Sea. While the Pope and his Cradinals is going to the Lake of Fire!" Hallelujah! And now, Hymn 94, "Oh what fun it is to be saved!"

You is not saved, only Bosco is saved.

Father Dan Brown SJ: Today's gospel about the wheat and the darnel is based on a parable written by Mary Magdalene, the wife of Jesus, and the first Pope, who wore a dalmatic and taught God all He knows. Its message is that we are the wheat, and those who disagree with us are the darnel, the haters, who don't know the first thing about discernment. By the way, have you got your copy of my new book "Bridge-it James's Diary", or "The Jesuit guide to sexual relationships"? You haven't? Then you too are a hater!

Renowned Jesuit Jacques Martin staggered through the vaulted archway of the museum's Grand Gallery.

Father Laudatosi: In the reading today, we see the perils of ignoring the environment. Somehow, genetically-modified seeds were mixed with the original organic low-fat gluten-free vegan-friendly non-carcinogenic unleaded wheat, and as a consequence the Earth will be destroyed by climate change! As Pope Francis has told us, there is only one solution - study the spiritual enneagram and practise your circle dancing!

Some non-alcoholic salt-free unisex circle dancing.

The Reverend Alfred Narcolepsy M.A.: Today my typewriter crashed, so at the last minute I borrowed some ideas from the nineteenth-century sermons of the Reverend Chedediah Somnifer M.A. Now, the parable of the wheat and tares is of great relevance to us in this age of uncertainty. With Napoleon having escaped from Elba, and heading for Paris, vowing to "make France great again", we may think of the French army as sowing destruction among us. Now, what would Jesus have done? I think He would have backed the Duke of Wellington to rip up the tares. However, we cannot be sure that He would have endorsed the Earl of Liverpool's pledge to return us to the gold standard! Cano in pluvia as every schoolboy knows!

"This looks like a good place to plant some tares!"

Bev the Rev: Hey! A funny thing happened to me on the way to the church. I was walking past a cornfield when I decided to dance in it, just as David danced before the Lord! But Farmer Giles shouted at me, "Oi! Get out of my cornfield, fatso!" Men are such sexists! I think that's the true meaning of the parable of the wheat and tares, don't you? And my glove-puppet thinks so too, don't you, Bottley?

Pope Francis, with a trusted adviser.

Fr Antonio Spiderman SJ: Stuff this for a lark! I hate you all.