The Pilgrim's Ogress 1 - Eccles writes

It has been observed that this blog is a little too serious sometimes, as it endeavours to give its readers spiritual nourishment and theological teaching, as well as guidance on hymns and up-to-date religious gossip news. So, inspired by another great blog, we are starting a very exciting serial, which will appear here from time to time. Each instalment will be written by a different person. Today, it is Eccles. Next time it may be his brother Bosco, or Cardinal Murphy-O'Connor, or A.C. Grayling. Wait and see!

A.C. Grayling and a young Richard Dawkins discuss why atheists need honey.

Dis is de story of Eccles, wot is a saved pusson, but who never misses an opportunitty to get more saved. One day he decided to go on a pilgrimage, not sure exactly where he was gonna go, cos he was very anxious to get away from de City of Destructoin (Notting Hill). He had been livvin in de basement of a huge mansoin, owned by best-sellin writer Damain Thopmson, along wiv his Anti Moly, wot is an unsaved pusson who goes "ROFL" at funerals. She is de ogress of de title, and is gonna be goin wiv him unless he can shake her off.

Eccles, the pilgrim.

Anyway, Eccles had had enough of living on custard and cupcakes, so he packed himself a proper pack, wiv spare clothes, Eccles cakes, and books for spiritaul nuorishment such as the Bibble, Shakespier, Lady, don't fall backwards! by Darcy Sarto, and a copy of Damain Thopmson's The Fox, which was thrust on him as a leaving present. Just as he was startin on his way, his Anti Moly, wot had been peacefully sleepin under the table after a long night screemin at the Internet, woke up and asked him where he was goin.

"I is goin on a pilgrimage, Anti," said Eccles, "and I will probably visit many sacred sites, like Walsingham, and Santiago de Compostela, and Fatima, and maybe even de holy city of Croydon."

Vanity Fair, 10 miles.

"All right, I'm comin wiv you," said his Anti. "We can take my donkey, wot is called Micky Ross, to carry our gin bottles wiv us."

"But you ain't a saved pusson, Anti," complained Eccles. "In fact you is banned from most of de churches inside de M25 for goin ROFL rather than AMEN. I been studyin this book by a man named Bunion, and he says dat de way of a pilgrim is hard, and it aint just goin into pubs and drinkin oneself into a stupor. He says you may even meet de foul fiend Apolly on de road (I fink she writes for de Gaurdian)."

"It's time for me to write another foul and fiendish article!"

But even this frightening prospect did not deter the old lady. Thus, Eccles and his Great-Ant Moli began their pilgrimage, heading westward towards the sinful fleshpots of Hammersmith.

What nameless horrors will our pilgrim encounter in Hammersmith?

Continued in Part 2.

New Hymns 5

In this slot we have previously invited John Henry Newman, King David, Charles Wesley, and Christina Rossetti to attend masterclasses on how to write a good "modern" hymn. Today, we are pleased to welcome William Williams, author of Guide me, O thou great Jehovah (or possibly ...Redeemer). In fact, Bill, you wrote this song originally in Welsh?

WW: Arglwydd, arwain trwy'r anialwch!

Fi, bererin gwael ei wedd...

E: Er, yes, thank you. Of course I speak Welsh fluently, but for the benefit of my readers we'll continue in English, if you don't mind.

WW: Not at all, old fruit.

E: Now, here is the first verse you wrote, in a popular translation:

Guide me, O Thou great Redeemer,
Pilgrim through this barren land;
I am weak, but Thou art mighty;
Hold me with Thy powerful hand:
Bread of Heaven, bread of Heaven
Feed me till I want no more.
Feed me till I want no more.

WW: Yes, and it's usually sung to the stirring tune of Cwm Rhondda.

E: No good, I'm afraid. Too many ideas crammed into one verse, and the tune is not one that you can clap your hands to. Liturgical dancers also find it a bit tricky to participate.

Strictly Cwm Dancing.

WW: Well, I didn't have the benefit of modern musical scholarship, Eccles. Can you help?

E: Yes. Let's change the tune first. How about a song that people can jump to, like Colonel Bogey?

The best tune for today's hymn.

WW: Is that the one about Hitler's deficiencies?

E: Well, in some traditions, but we can adapt your hymn to this too. Note how we just use the first line, and repeat it several times. Thus we don't overload the hymn with ideas!

Guide me, thou great Re-de-e-mer!
Guide me, thou great Re-de-e-mer!
Guide me, oh guide me, guide me,
Oh guide me, guide me, oh guide me, ha-ha!

WW: I don't remember writing "Ha-ha!"

E: Well I would have said "Ch-ch" but Paul Inwood might have complained that I'd pinched one of his deeper theological ideas. We need something clunky to end on.

WW: What happens in Verse 2? "Pilgrim through this barren land" doesn't scan.

E: We can get round that.

I am a jolly pilgrim, Lord!
I am a jolly pilgrim, Lord!
I am a jolly pilgrim,
A jolly pilgrim, a pilgrim, ho-ho!

Like the surprise ending?

I am a jolly pilgrim, Lord!

WW: Well, I didn't see that coming.

E: Note that the verse is now mostly about YOU, and not about God.

WW: So would Verse 3 ("I am weak, but thou art mighty") now be better if it were something like I am - a pretty useless chap?

E: No, that's not inclusive language, Bill. Maybe, I don't - feel very well some days. Still about you, of course. But you know what the real problem with your hymn is?

WW: I'd be very grateful if you could tell me, Eccles.

E: It doesn't mention light, sunrise, shining, etc. These are very popular with modern hymnwriters.

WW: Well...

Sunrise - I like the shining light!
Sunrise - I like the shining light!
Sunrise, I like the sunrise,
I like the sunrise, the sunrise, hee-hee!

Bring me sunshine...

E: Well, we've come a long way from your original hymn, but I'm sure that our new version is a great improvement.

WW: Eccles, thank you very much.

E: My pleasure, Bill.

Let's all be pilgrims

For an imaginative holiday this autumn, why not become a pilgrim? No religious beliefs are necessary, as we highlight some of the excursions on offer.

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St Daryl's offers a liberal pilgrimage for those who don't think Vatican II went far enough.

Who is leading the pilgrimage? Hey, we don't have leaders as such; however, Fr Arthur will be at the front, walking backwards so that he can face the congregation at all times.

Where are we going? This is a bit of a mystery - we rather hope that Fr Arthur doesn't lead us over a cliff. But, hey, it doesn't matter where we're going, or even if we all go to the same place. There's no such thing as a sacred site in the 21st century.

Is everyone welcome? Of course. We will particularly welcome atheists, Muslims and Buddhists, who are currently under-represented in the modern Catholic church.

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The arms of New College, Oxford (the motto is being corrected to "Genes Makyth Man").

The Foundation Church of Dawkins offers a Dawkins-themed pilgrimage to the sacred places associated with Dawkins.

Visit the grave of Chrissie the chicken, about which Richard wrote a Ph.D. thesis! See the shop of the blind watchmaker who broke Richard's watch! Visit Marks and Spencer, where Dawkins buys his selfish jeans! Ride in a bus bearing the Dawkins message: "God is probably not riding on this bus!" See the police station to which Richard would have taken the Pope, if he had been allowed to arrest him!

Visit BBC Quarry Number 1, where the future Mrs Dawkins filmed many adventures

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Mormons! Come and see the sacred places visited by the Angel Mitromni!

Yes, until the year 2012, British Mormons felt left out: the keystone of the Mormon faith was that God's final message to mankind was delivered in America. But then the Angel Mitromni came to England, and now British Mormonism is flourishing!

The Angel Mitromni

Visit the holy city of London, where the Angel Mitromni spake unto Boris, saying, "How pathetic are thy Olympics!" See the Temple of Miliband, at which Mitromni spake unto Ed, saying "Nice to meet you, David. What do you do, exactly?"

The sacred plates (now washed) on which the Angel Mitromni's lunch was served

The Angel Mitromni's words have been transcribed in the Book of Gaffes, a work sacred to all British Mormons.

De return of Bruvver Bosco

My darlin bruvver gettin ready to visit a sacred shrine

Well, it was over 6 months since we heard much of my big bruvver Bosco (we left him in Callifornia sittin on a pole), but now we got news dat he is in England. Bosco tellephonned me and said "Eccles, I is goin to de Ollympic Games in London, so dat I can sabbotage de Vatican Ollympic team by throwin banana skins under dem. Dem costume holly men aint gonna git any meddles wiv me around."

Well I looked around, but it didn't seem dere was much of a Vatican team. Dey has recriuted Arthur Roche, de famuos ice-skater, but dat will be for de next Winter Ollympics, it seems.

Farver, is you sure dis is an Ollympic event?

Still, we did find some worryin signs of iddle worship, and I fink Bosco needs to come along and do some smitin.

Iddle worshipper seen in London

Bosco decided not to go to London, which is a grate pity, as we was all reddy to kill de fatted calf for de prodigious son. In fact we aint got a fatted calf, but Anti Moly was gonna make him a Cronish Pastie instead - bein a crone herself she got de authentick recipe. However, Bosco decided to go to Wallsingham, which is a holly place in Norfolk. Dey gots lotsa shrines dere, like Angliccan, Cathlic and Orthoddox, wot is all unsaved poeple, and Bosco was plannin to open a branch of de Calumny Chappel dere to show de piglrims what really saved poeople looks like.

Bosco is alreddy startin to make his mark there. De Cathlics has got a Slipper Chappel at Wallsingham, and Bosco bein a witty sort of pusson has left lotsa banana skins outside it - de ones he was gonna use for de Pop's Ollympic team - so dat all de piglrims is now slippin over, and swearin in a way dat piglrims doesnt often do.

A piglrim on de way to de Slipper Chappel

It seems dat Bosco aint too impressed by Wallsingham so far. "Iddles everywhere!" he screemed. Bosco, dere, if you is reedin dis blogg, perhaps you could comment from de perspecktive of a saved pusson, wot you fink of dis Sattanic iddle wot I seen in London?

Sattanic iddle seen in London