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.

No jokes in your sermons, please

We have written before on How to make sermons less boring, but a recent poll has indicated that congregations do not like jokes in sermons. So let's have another go at this one.

No jokes. So, I'm afraid, dear Lord, that joke of Yours about straining at a gnat (gamla) and swallowing a camel (gamal) will have to go. It always brings the house down when we have that in the Gospel. Also the story about people having planks in their eyes - well, our focus group isn't too keen.

There was an old lady who swallowed a camel.

Today's tip for preachers is to avoid words and phrases that may trigger giggles in sermons. Here's a short list:

1. The bishop. Like it or not, most bishops are figures of fun. There are exceptions, of course: some are not megalomaniac self-publicists or idle time-servers, but devout and holy men who are true pastors of their sheep. However, in many dioceses the mere mention of the bishop will cause eye-rolling, sniggering, and head-shaking. Especially if he was on the television last night.

A devout and holy man.

2. Richard Dawkins. Although a tragic figure, rather than a comedian per se, he is associated with so many funny stories that his comedy value is more than his value as a source of spiritual nourishment. If he does finally convert, then he will have a natural role as a patron saint of comics. Or possibly honey.

3. The Spirit of Vatican II. It's probably safe to mention Vatican II, which was not inherently funny. However, invoke the Spirit (and the same goes for the Spirit of Laudato Si' or the Spirit of Amoris Laetitia), and the giggling will start.

The Spirit of Amoris Dancer.

4. Tina Beattie. I suppose a blood-and-thunder denunciation of the dear lady from the pulpit, although it would be impressive, is too much to ask for. Mentioning her in the context of Catholic teaching will probably count as a joke. No, avoid the subject.

5. Giles Fraser. Like Dawkins, an endless source of mirth, so much so that the mere mention of his name brings a smile to the face. I suppose that in private he may be a tortured soul who only wants to be loved, but even God must be congratulating Himself on one of his funniest creations.

6. Women bishops, women priests, deaconesses. Stop sniggering at the back.

I said, "Stop sniggering."

7. Paul Inwood. It's difficult to see how the subject might come up in a sermon, unless one of the Biblical readings was about a hideous and ghastly noise (there's probably a suitable text in the book of Revelation), but your audience will now be thinking "Alleluia, Ch-Ch" or "Prepare the way of the Lord, Moo-oo-oo, Moo-oo-oo".

8. Jesuits. Nowadays these are inherently funny, inasmuch as there are more jokes about Jesuits than spiritually nourishing stories. Forget it.

Well, you get the idea. Keep off topics that may trigger laughter. Model yourself on a BBC alternative comic - Jeremy Hardy, say, or Marcus Brigstocke. If they can talk for 20 minutes without making anyone laugh, then you should be able to as well.

Maintain the dignity of the cloth at all times!

The eight most boring moments in church

Clearly, we don't go to church to be entertained (unless we're in the Calvary Chapel), but rather to worship God, and thereby to become more saved. However, there are parts of the service that count as "fatty tissue", and definitely waste our time.

A gripping moment in the Mass.

1. Before the service. Obviously, for a 10 a.m. service you shouldn't turn up at 10 a.m., on the dot. Sometimes the priest is too quick off the mark, and will already be galloping down the aisle; in any case it may be difficult to get seats together, if you are coming as a family. So you turn up at 9.30 instead, and - according to taste - gossip with your neighbours, play with your phone, pray quietly, read the newsletter, or sit thinking holy thoughts. By 10 a.m. all these sources of spiritual nourishment are over, and you're getting bored.

2. A bad hymn. You may not get one of these. Moreover, if you do, you experience a mixture of irritation and boredom. If only I had the courage to kneel down during "Walk in the Light" with my hands over my face in a "Lord, forgive them" attitude.

"No, not 'If I were a fuzzy, wuzzy bear, I'd thank you, Lord for my fuzzy, wuzzy hair'!"

3. Firing up the thurible. This will not apply in many churches, but watching the priest doling out a spoonful of gunpower - or whatever it is - into the thurible, about 20 minutes into the Mass, is very boring, and I don't know why he couldn't have done it beforehand.

Of course, there's always the possibility that Fr Bunsen will make a mess of it and set fire to his chasuble, but I've never seen it happen. The nearest I've ever got to that was when a priest I knew conducted a funeral at a crematorium and scorched his cassock - but it was on an electric fire after the service.

4. The sermon. Many priests are boring, we have to admit. Even (especially) when they steal their homilies from Fr Hezekiah Snoring's Collected Victorian Sermons in 12 bulky volumes. This year, Mercy is the big theme for us, and I never realised before just how boring it could be.

A variation on this is the Bishop's Letter, perhaps giving us even more Mercy ("This week we painted the Door of Mercy with rainbow stripes to show our commitment to the LBGT community, as its previous colours - red and white - suggested a commitment to St George, which many found offensive"), or What I Did This Month ("On Wednesday I enjoyed tea and Eccles cakes with the Medium-Sized Sisters of the Beretta"), or simply the bishop's strategy document ("Here is a list of churches that I am closing down this year").

The Medium-Sized Sisters of the Beretta

5. The kiss of peace. Again a mixture of irritation and boredom, especially, when someone else is trying to beat last week's record of 23 victims. I've said enough on this topic already.

6. Blessing of altar servers / candles / new hassocks / pets. Yes, all these are worthy of blessing - indeed, most things are blessable unless they actually lead one to sin (e.g. copies of the Tablet). But it's a distraction from the service. Also, bringing pet hippopotamuses into church, although not exactly boring, is too "modernist".

7. An end-of-service chat from a representative of CAFOD / the Freemasons / our very own Kate Drivel who spent her gap year ecumenically working with ISIS. The aim here is to drum up support, or possibly money. GO AWAY.

Next week's preacher.

8. Final announcements. Next week the Bishop will be visiting, and there will be a special puppet mass. Tina Beattie's lecture has been cancelled again. There are coffee and cannabis in the Church Hall. All these things are in the newsletter, Father!

Any more?

How can I make my sermons less boring?

A week or two ago, Pope Francis ordained nineteen new priests, telling them to feed the people of God with heartfelt homilies rather than boring sermons. Since then, many priests have contacted me, asking "How can I make my sermons less boring?"

"So I told him, 'I will not dance with you for three reasons. First because you are drunk, second because that music is not a dance but our national anthem, and third because I am the cardinal-archbishop of Buenos Aires.'"

Certainly many sermons are boring, but here are a few ways to make them less so, based on observation of the Holy Father himself:

1. Say something so confusing that nobody knows what you really mean. People will ask themselves, "Did he really say that we should all try and commit a few extra sins today?"

2. Insult your congregation. Call them "Sloth-diseased, acedic Christians!" or ""Querulous and disillusioned pessimists!" or the old favourite, ""Self-absorbed, Promethean neo-Pelagians!" There is a useful list of insults here.

3. Make an off-colour joke about mothers-in-law, or perhaps women in general. Try to avoid jokes about ethnic minorities, homosexuals or the disabled, as there are limits to what even a priest can get away with.

This is going to end badly, Deacon.

Apart from that, here are few tips about keeping your audience's attention. Start with something arresting, preferably about SEX, as this is a subject that occupies most people's minds most of the time.

POOR: "I think the sex life of the rhubarb plant is really fascinating."

WEAK, BUT BETTER: "The sex life of the three-toed sloth is one that carries a powerful message to Christians."

BETTER STILL: "You may have seen a recent television programme in which Professor Dairymaid McCauliflower told us that nobody ever had sex until the Reformation."

BEST, BUT A BIT PERSONAL. "The sex life of Sally Bercow is really fascinating."

We are not sure what is happening here.

Apart from sex, other subjects that your audience can identify with include football (for some), pop music (but try not to describe Elton John as a "promising youngster"), and what was on television last night.

You may also want a gimmick tailored to the subject of your sermon. If your subject is "I am the vine", then bring a vine in with you and wave it, just in case your audience has never seen one. If it's "Money is the root of all evil", tear a five-pound note in half (you can still use it afterwards), to symbolize your rejection of the material.

Kate Bottle (Anglican) explains the Miracle at Cana.

Anyway, you get the picture. Avoid all mention of dead people, such as Aquinas, Luther or Newman. Only very clever people have heard of them, and it violates the last and most important rule of sermon-giving, or public-speaking in general: WHEN IN DOUBT, DUMB DOWN.

Family-friendly churches

It has been reported in the Tablet that parents are put off attending church by the inconvenient timing of services, which are not family friendly, and which clash with their busy lives.

Come to church, and let the priest and people bounce!

The picture above shows one possible solution: mobile, bouncy churches, which can be parked in the street and, like ice-cream vans, play music to attract families with young children. We suggest the tune of Wesley's Shine, Jesus, Shine or else Newman's If I were a butterfly to get the kids running to church, especially if there is free ice-cream on offer.

For people who prefer static churches, it is important to adjust mass times to the convenience of those attending: since the priest only works on Sunday, he can easily fit in with the wishes of the customers. It seems that a popular time is early afternoon: fathers and mothers can come along and doze in luxuriously-upholstered pews, while the kids play with lego. In the background the priest can do whatever he chooses (mumble a few prayers perhaps) as nobody will be paying attention. So no change there.

"Let's play priests and deacons!"

As the picture above shows, it is sometimes possible to get children involved in the service. After all, when it comes down to it, the job of a priest doesn't require much training: you say the red and do the black, or possibly vice versa, and - to get through the only bit of the service that isn't written down in detail - you can buy books of ready-made sermons.

An essential book for the priest who's run out of ideas.

In general we can base our actions on the maxim "The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath." Here, Jesus was clearly saying that Sundays are a day for rest and relaxation. If you happen to feel like dropping into church, that's a bonus, but God really doesn't care. Going shopping at IKEA, or to a football match, is just as good. Keep the day holy of course - but only by doing what YOU want.

Still, churches should be thought of as cool places to hang out. Although they often offer nothing more spiritual than what you can find in shops or sports grounds, the main reason for the service should be to have fun.

Getting the kids involved!

Lastly, churches are not just for conventional services, of course. They have the added advantage that they often host "fun" events, such as baptisms, weddings and funerals, where all the family can come along and party. Our final picture reminds us that the revels should start in the church, and not be kept until afterwards.

It's flamenco time!

If that doesn't bring in the punters, then I'm afraid we're doomed.

Something for Catholics to celebrate

These are hard times for Christians who want something to celebrate, as Archdruid Eileen has pointed out. Our fellow-Christians in Mosul are being persecuted by Islamic thugs - although this can't be a very serious massacre or else Messrs Obama, Cameron, Hollande and Merkel would have said something about it, and Clegg the wonder dog would have barked. Not all that far away, the people of Israel and Gaza are getting on rather badly, as even the politicians have noticed. Then if you're a Christian in the West you will be assailed by the forces of darkness in various ways: abortion, euthanasia, "gay pride" parades, ... and you are increasingly likely to be persecuted if you stand up against them. Not a lot of laughs so far.

The story so far.

However, for Catholics, it is a time of celebration! 500 years since the Reformation (or it will be in 2017). Indeed, the Lutherans have invited us all to celebrate this, and why not? 500 years since the Catholic church got rid of some of its most boring members! Douglas Adams would have put the Lutherans in the B-ark along with the hairdressers and telephone sanitizers, and this is the religious equivalent. As the Mikado has it:

All prosy dull society sinners
Who chatter and bleat and bore
Are sent to hear sermons 
From mystical Germans 
Who preach from ten to four.

Fortunately, Catholics are more likely to get a five-minute homily (say, the same length as the Beatitudes) rather than a six-hour German sermon with all the verbs packed into the last half-hour - even if it may be an anecdote about a power cut in the deacon's shed rather than a piece of solid theology.

Luther: never wrote one thesis when he could write 95.

Of course, the Reformation had more consequences than simply putting some of the most boring Germans into their own little box. Lots of people (both Catholic and Protestant) were martyred, enduring what the Bishop of Lancaster might call "a voluntary period of being burnt to death". Shall we celebrate that, too? Oddly, we don't do that to each other any more, we leave it to the Muslims to do it for us.

If you lose your luggage, say a prayer to someone. Anyone will do.

It's unlikely that ISIS will invite us to a multi-faith celebration in honour of the "cleansing" of Mosul, but if you do get an invitation, do accept! It is always blessed to be ecumenical, and it doesn't matter what you believe provided that you believe something! Not that I would wish to offend our non-believing brothers and sisters either, of course.

Jubilate Deo!

Deuteronomy

After a hard week attacking rebel Catholics, bad hymns and Dan Brown, what could be nicer than to curl up on the sofa with the book of Deuteronomy? This is part 5 in the Eccles Bible project, where we lead an atheist called Richard to salvation. We are looking at the last book of the Torah/Pentateuch: the word Deuteronomy actually means Second Law, which suggests that someone has miscounted. But never mind.

Deuterium. Not to be confused with Deuteronomy.

Right, let's dive in. We've got 34 action-packed chapters ahead of us. We start off, however, with three chapters of general smiting, and for some reason things go particularly hard for tall people. For example, Moses and his team kill Og of Bashan, the man with a true king-sized bed, 9 cubits by 4 cubits, which is made of iron.

Og of Bashan's iron bed (or perhaps a smaller version of it).

Moses then preaches a few sermons to the Israelites. They are unlike the modern sermon from a church leader, which goes something like this:

"As I was wandering in the desert this morning looking for any men from Heshbon that we might have forgotten to smite, I saw a vulture perching on a rock. 'Squawk, squawk!' he said to me, and I burst into tears, for it reminded me that we are not allowed to eat vultures. In the words of the poet: In for a penny, in for a pound – It’s Love that makes the world go round! Nowadays, we are faced by many real challenges, such as climate change, the need for more wind turbines in the desert, the demand for gluten-free manna and ethically-sourced quails, and of course an end to smiting people on the grounds of race, colour, religion, sexual orientation, or favourite football team. But God loves us all. There will be coffee on Mount Sion after the service."

Do not smite this man just because of his footballing beliefs.

No, Moses gets straight to the point and reminds people of the ten commandments; also he explains that they are going to attack all the followers of false gods, and smite them. This is not exactly what you might call "muscular Christianity": they weren't Christians at that stage, and anyway muscular Christians don't really smite people.

Take that, Dawkins minor!

Well, regrettably this is one of the more bloodthirsty bits of the Bible, but in those times it was quite common for people to fight wars against their neighbours. Thank goodness that's all stopped, eh?

Well, I'm fast-forwarding through the next few chapters, which are mostly repeats of earlier teaching (although the text Ye are the children of the Lord your God: ye shall not cut yourselves, nor make any baldness between your eyes for the dead, from Chapter 14, verse 1, would repay further study, especially by anyone who feels temped to make some baldness between their eyes.

They're heading for a land flowing with milk and honey.

By the time we get to the end of the book, Moses is now very old; he hands over the reins to Joshua, gives some blessings, takes a look at the promised land, and dies.

If you have been paying attention, Richard, you will notice that the Bible so far mixes legends (with some underlying historical basis), solid history, and the Mosaic law. Next time, we'll look at Joshua's career.

Mosaic law - lots of pieces that fit together.

The World will end on Friday

A sermon from Pastor Noodle of the Calumny Chapel.

The big question today is: will the World be ending on Friday, 21st December 2012 when the Mayan Calendar comes to an end? At first I was sceptical about this theory, but, when I went into the newsagents and asked the assistant for a 2013 Mayan calendar, she said that they were unavailable, and then I knew that there might be trouble.

My current Mayan calendar (as you can see, we're running out of time).

Although Mayan worshippers are almost certainly not saved people, all the evidence is that the world is coming to an end. Here are some of the amazing signs I have noticed:

• The Pope appears on Twitter as @Pontifex and says Armageddon is next Friday, my dear friends. Don't miss it! LOL.
• David Cameron is definitively named as the Anti-Christ by a group of archbishops, especially trained to look out for Him when He arrives.
• Paul Inwood writes a new Apocalypso chant, It's the Beastie, it's the Beastie, it's the Beast, 6-6-6, for use in Portsmouth whenever Bishop Egan isn't looking.
• Catherine Pepinster converts to Catholicism, smashes her statue of Hans Küng, and swears loyalty to the Pope.

I have brought with me an object that contains much spiritual nourishment, and a certain amount of mystery. It's a pot of "Naise," an oil that some sects use in a ceremony of unction. The jar carries the apocalyptic message that Only the "Best" will be brought out. Make sure that includes you!

Mayan "Naise." Note the significance of "Hell, man!"

Another Mayan relic has been sighted that is worthy of mention. Let me introduce her with some lines from her Christmas poem, Amazing Peace:

We clap hands and welcome the Peace of Christmas.
We beckon this good season to wait a while with us.
We, Baptist and Buddhist, Methodist and Muslim, say come.
Peace.

Yes, it's the great Maya Angelou, the woman with a tin ear for rhythm, a very vague idea of spirituality, but a gift for alliteration.

The Mayan Angelou - a sign that the world is ending.

These are exciting times, brothers, and you are advised to be ready for the End of the World. Remember that money and personal possessions will be of no use to you from Friday. So, in order to improve your chances of being saved, I suggest you leave them with me.

I shall be away next Sunday.