Good Samaritan arrested for looting

A correction.

Our star reporter Lambchop breaks the news.

We are grateful to Pope Francis, the celebrated climatologist, left-wing political agitator and part-time Catholic, for correcting the account in St Luke of the activities of the Good Samaritan ("Sam" to his friends). It seems that this well-known parable did not turn out exactly as reported by St Luke, and - like the Beatitudes, the Lord's Prayer and other Biblical errors - it required updating. Count your blessings that this was done by papal decree, and not another synod!

It seems that, after delivering the mugging victim to the inn, and binding up his wounds, Sam reacted in the only proper way. He embarked on a campaign of violence, setting fire to buildings, attacking random people who had nothing to do with the muggers, looting shoe shops (medieval paintings often show the Good Samaritan dressed in a pair of brand new Adidas trainers), and generally harassing anyone who got in his way.

"My mates and I will get them for this. And anyone else within 50 miles."

Other prominent figures from Jesus's parables also turn out to have led complicated lives. The man with the lost sheep, having found the poor animal, then went round to his neighbour's farms and set fire to their barns. The prodigal son, offered some fatted calf by his long-suffering father, accused him of letting his animals cause climate change, with the immortal words "You have stolen my childhood and your dreams."

Lazarus, in Abraham's bosom, mocked Dives as a "self-absorbed promethean neo-pelagian." The sower who was sowing seed, once he had finally worked out where the good soil was, ripped it up and threw it in the face of passers-by as a way of showing that he was a true custodian of tradition. Then he screamed at them because they were cross with him.

We are looking forward to Pope Francis's new encyclical Parabolae Perditae or Parables Lost, which will correct and re-interpret all the Biblical parables.

Fr James Martin Brown investigates

With apologies to G.K. Chesterton.

Through the quiet streets of Manhattan there walked a short, dull Catholic priest. Nothing about him suggested anything out of the ordinary, unless it was the rainbow-patterned socks that he wore. With him was a chunky, flamboyant man, also dressed unconvincingly as a priest. This was "Flambeau" Rosica, the communications expert whose Lightly Salted media empire had brought him worldwide fame.

The Innocence of Father Brown.

The two priests were discussing deep theological questions, and had come to an agreement that if, as the great theologian Spadaro had proved, it was possible to argue that 2+2=5, then many of the conclusions drawn in the Bible must have been wrong.

"It is an impenetrable mystery to me," admitted Flambeau. "How could the Catholic Church have been wrong for 2000 years? It was not until the era of Pope Francis the Great that we realised that the old Doctors of the Church were completely ignorant."

New York's got Talent!

Father Brown thought for a while, and, as they walked the dusty streets, he saw a sign, IGNATIAN GAY BAR. "Let us stop off there for a while," he suggested, "and perhaps build a few bridges."

They plunged into the red-curtained tavern, which was not only cosy, but even luxurious inside. Once seated, Father Brown explained some of the other parables that had been misinterpreted for so long.

"The sower and the seed," he began. "It was always thought that the seed that fell onto fertile soil and grew was somehow the most worthy. But did not the seed that fed the gentle birds have a more sacred destiny? The farmer was clearly a capitalist, trying to exploit the workers, and he probably supported Donald Trump."

A mystery for Flambeau: how did this man ever become a cardinal?

"Then again, Jesus totally misunderstood the parable of the Good Samaritan. It was the Jesuit who walked past the injured man - stopping only to sell him a copy of his new book - who was the real hero of the story."

"Too true," commented Flambeau, sticking his leg out to trip up a passing waiter and roaring with laughter. "Then there was the Prodigal Son. What a wretch he was, deserting those happy pigs, who wanted him to feed them, and rushing back to stuff himself on fatted calf!"

"Talking of which, why don't you have another plate of fatted calf yourself?" urged Father Brown. "Your chair doesn't seem to be collapsing yet."

"When you practise Ignatian Discernment," he added, "you see all the parables in a new light. Take the rich man and Lazarus, for example. Obviously the villain here is Abraham, who refused to accept the rich man into his bosom. I would never refuse to accept a rich man into my bosom."

They left the tavern, and Flambeau drew Father Brown's attention to a photograph. "Can you explain this?" he asked.

No headscarf?

"It seems that this is Karen Oliveto, a Methodist Minister who accused Jesus of being a 'bigot'" noted Father Brown. "She is apparently a lesbian, so we should make her welcome. However, the Islamic connection is not entirely clear to me..."

Judith

After a short break, we resume the Eccles Bible Class today with the deutero-canonical book of Judith. Dawkins! Good to see you in class today, although I hear that your pals are very cross that you didn't sign their letter about Britain being an atheist country. Would you like to tell the class what "deutero-canonical" means? Come on, boy, you must know, you're supposed to be a learned theologian, remember?

All right, I'll explain. This is an Old Testament book that wasn't in the Hebrew Bible, and so it's not really accepted by most Protestants. We can probably get through it quite quickly, as there is only one thing you need to know about Judith: she cut off the head of Holofernes.

I'm sorry, Madam, but you can't take this as hand-luggage.

What's that noise outside? Oh, some new arrivals! Pratchett! Tatchell! Nick Ross! Steve Jones! Singh! You felt that, Britain being a Christian country, you ought to brush up on some of the theory? Well, you're all very welcome to join in, but today's book of the Bible isn't really a great introduction to Christianity. There won't be very many deep spiritual insights today, and indeed not very many in general until we reach Job.

Professor Steve Jones denies that his pets are malnourished.

Actually, there is one another reason to remember Judith, which is that the Tallis motet Spem in alium is based on words from this book. Just in case your Latin's a bit rusty, here's an English rendering of it:

I have never put my hope in any other
but in You, O God of Israel,
who can show both anger and graciousness,
and who absolves all the sins
of suffering man.
Lord God,
Creator of Heaven and Earth
be mindful of our lowliness.

My colleague, Fr John Hunwicke, teaches Latin to atheists.

Right, let's get to the point. The book of Judith is agreed to be non-historical, rather than an accurate account of events. Those who have been paying attention will remember that we said that the books of the Bible aren't all alike. Some are solid accounts of events, some are poetry, some (such as this one) are more like parables.

Don't worry, we're only part of a parable. Trust me, I'm a Samaritan.

Judith is a Jewish woman, known for her great virtue, and Holofernes is a general in the service of Nebuchadnezzar - here described as king of the Assyrians. Holofernes is charged with the job of making himself a nuisance to the rebels against Nebuchadnezzar, which basically includes all those who serve God. Just as you atheists like making yourselves a nuisance towards Christians, eh?

Judith uses her feminine wiles - probably, she's even prettier than Toynbee here - and this is what happened to Holofernes:

Her sandals ravished his eyes, her beauty made his soul her captive, with a sword she cut off his head.

Warning: these sandals may ravish your eyes.

She also takes the head home to her people as a souvenir (see above). As a result of these actions, the Assyrians flee, so it's a happy ending for the good guys. Look, you really don't need to worry too much about this book, folks. Just try and stay saved.