Pope Francis on the couch

Finally, even Pope Francis has realised that there is something badly wrong with his psychological make-up, and has checked in with the great Dr Kopfschrumpfer, psychiatrist to the Vatican.

"Now Holy Father, what seems to be the problem?"

Help me, doctor, I have this obsessive phobia about everything that happened before I founded the Church in 2013.

What is it that troubles you?

There is terrible support for restorationism... indietrismo... backwardism... a nostalgic disease... we cannot turn back...

I see. Have you considered discussing the issue with some friends?

I don't have any friends, apart from Austen Ivereigh the scribbler, and nobody in their right mind would take his advice. Oh and James Martin, but all he recommends is appointing more LGBTSJ bishops.

Yours is a difficult case, Holy Father. Take some of these MODAGON anti-modernism tablets and come and see me tomorrow.

Pope Francis hobbles out, but goes through the wrong door, and ends up in a cupboard.

Which is it to be?

Come back, Holy Father! It's the other door!

I cannot turn back... that would be backwardism... indietrismo... CRASH... I must always go forward, as the sap rises in a tree... to do without this flow would be to remain a mummy... CRASH!... Ow! Get Arthur Roche here to help me... you'll find him in the cake shop...

The synod to end all synods

Yes, it's the synod to end all synods. A small group of specially-chosen "experts" is going through all the reports received from people who felt they needed a good moan about the Catholic Church. Do we want gender-fluid bishops? A new Bible with all the embarrassing bits about sin removed? The canonization of George Floyd? Embezzlement to be no longer a sin? Well, Francis is favourable to most of these, so we just have to find a way of changing Catholic teaching without too much of a revolt (cf. Amoris Laetitia).

The experts have to be fit. Here they are seen doing exercise number 666 in the Bishop Barron Weightwatchers Guide.

Show and tell! As a bonding exercise, the experts are encouraged to bring items that mean something to them - portraits of their family, idols, bottles of port, etc. - to share with the other experts.

Our resident psychiatrist, Dr Spotda Luni, remarks "These graffiti, produced by a disturbed teenager in the Church of Bedlam synodal group, show severe signs of schizophrenia. Is the patient for or against fidelity, intolerance, deep why care (whatever that may be), and abuse? Is it just a long nightmare, or were drugs involved? We doctors find that encouraging nutters (apologies for using a technical term) to do brain dumps like this can help them to become more accepted by society.

Finally, Austen Ivereigh leads the experts in a dance to celebrate the fact that their work is over and the Catholic Church is now indistinguishable from the Church of England.

Bad hymns 22

The judges of the Eccles Bad Hymn award are delighted to welcome Fr Frank Andersen, creator of the Galilee Song, which you can also hear here if you can stand it. This is the sort of hymn that goes down well with a lot of people, since it is only vaguely Christian. It is mostly about the mental state of the person singing the song, rather than about God.

Is it a hymn? Is it a sea shanty?

Eccles: Now, Father Frank, why not lie down on this couch and sing the first verse of the song to me?

Fr Andersen:

Deep within my heart, I feel voices whispering to me.
Words that I can't understand; meanings I can't clearly hear!
Calling me to follow close, lest I leave myself behind!
Calling me to walking into evening shadows one more time!

E: Yes, you do seem to have severe psychological problems, Father. I would say it's like paranoia, only in reverse. You think you're following someone, but you don't know who or why?

Eccles interviews Father Andersen.

FA: Perhaps I need help, Eccles. Following someone such as Christ for a good reason is one thing, but I find myself following random people in the street, and don't know why.

So I leave my boats behind!
Leave them on familiar shores!
Set my heart upon the deep!
Follow you again, my Lord!

E: Oh yes, that's the chorus, isn't it. Well at least you're following someone called Lord, who seems to have something to do with boats. Would that be anyone in particular?

Why does this man Andersen keep following me?

FA: Well, it is supposed to be Christ. But the abandoned boats are mine, so it could also be Mohammed. Or Krishna. Or Buddha. Or Boris Johnson. I wanted to give people a choice of deities.

E: Very ecumenical. And it goes so well with any musical accompaniment, such as guitars, zithers, kazoos or Balinese nose-flutes. Sing me the next verse.

FA:

In my memories, I know how you send familiar rains
falling gently on my days, dancing patterns on my pain!
And I need to learn once more in the fortress of my mind,
to believe in falling rain as I travel deserts dry!

E: Tell me more about these pains, Father. Headaches is it? Migraines? They seem to be giving you delusions, too. You see, as a matter of fact, deserts dry don't have falling rain. That's why they're dry.

Oh will the rain never stop?

FA: Sigh... I suppose you're right, Eccles. What do you recommend?

E: Take two aspirins, have a lie down, and don't try to write any more hymns, they just upset you.

FA: Eccles, thank you very much.

E: My pleasure. That'll be 100 guineas plus VAT. Next patient, please!

---

Previous entries for the Eccles Bad Hymn Award:

Lord of the Dance.    Shine, Jesus, shine.    Enemy of apathy.    Walk in the Light.
Kum Ba Yah.    Follow me.    God's Spirit is in my heart.    Imagine.    Alleluia Ch-ch.
It ain't necessarily so.    I, the Lord of sea and sky.    Colours of day.    The red flag.
Go, the Mass is ended.    I watch the sunrise.    Bind us together, Lord.    Our god reigns.
My way.    Ding-Dong! The witch is dead.    If I were a butterfly.
Journeys ended, journeys begun.

Off to see de physchaitrist

Ullo dere Bosco, I hopes you dont mind me reveelin your confiddential meddical records, but I fink it will help peeple to unnderstand your plihgt.

We went to see de physchaitrist Dr Fraud, who looked after Bosco a few weeks ago when we was stayin wiv Damain Thopmson in de Mabeldurrum Home for de Dangerously Loony. Poor Bosco he cant sleep he wakes up in de nihgt cryin "Keep dem cement iddles away from me! De Pope's gonna burn me! Eccles you is reely Hilda! I aint saved!"

Dr Fraud says dere is nuffin to worry about Bosco... he will write to de Pope pussonally to ask him not to burn you, and also dat Jessus phoned him up to say you is probbably saved too, but keep writtin your luvly blogg to be absolutley certtain of Salivation, all de folks in Heaven is waitin for de next installmeant. We can't do much about Bosco's bad dreams about cement iddles, but Dr Fraud he gonna double de dose of Fruitcakol, de meddicine for dem wots got severe halluccinations.

We asked Dr Fraud if he wanted to keep Bosco in for obbservation, and he started foammin at de mouf and hittin his own head against de wall, I fink dat means not just now.

Meanwhile, dey is startin to do some converssions to de Calumny Chappel, so dat we can have a larger torcher chamber in de bassement. De workman broke his pickax and asked us "Eccles and Bosco, does you have a pickax to lend me for de converssions?" Bosco he replies, yes, he had been usin one on some Cathlics only other day. He werent sure if dey was converted now, but he had made some major adjusments to deir faces.

Bosco, dere bruvver, if you is feelin a little better now, has you got any oppinions on dis Cathlic iddle? Why is it standin by a grabage bin?