Imagine there's no heaven, It's easy if you try: No hell below us, Above us, only sky.A very popular song among some Christians. Later on we have:
Imagine there's no countries, It isn't hard to do: Nothing to kill or die for, And no religion, too.What could be more suitable? Especially when followed by the well-known prayer "Our Father, who art in... oops!"
Do you have a crucifix handy? This can be used to deal a nasty blow to the back of the head. Most churches also contain heavy Bibles, and these are essentially blunt instruments which can cause life-threatening wounds. Why do you think churches have candles? So that they can be lit, of course. And what to we do with a lighted candle? Why, stuff it, flame first into your neighbour's ear. Or mouth. C'mon man!
An inclination to grope people in Church as a "Sign of Peace"; Singing bad hymns; Female altar-servers.
Liturgical dancing; Clowns and puppets; Blessing homosexual unions (the German variant).Fatal side-effects (very rare).
Idol worship, also known as Pachamamitis.
So far we have the following contestants, but nominations of others are invited in the next week, either via the comments below or replying to @bruveccles on Twitter.
Ready?
Liturgical dancing Female altar-servers Communion in the hand Clowns Puppets Sign of peace
"Let's not!"
Holding hands in the Our Father Orans position for the Our Father Standing for the consecration Bad hymns (Schutte, Haugen etc.) Introducing ourselves to our neighbours
Idols Clapping Reading out Vatican II documents Changing words in the liturgy Guitars Balloons
Of course, you may actually like some/all of these, but that is not my problem.
The voting on Twitter will begin on Monday 25th May, once next week's exciting Laudato Si' celebrations (to be the subject of a future post?) have died down and everyone has sobered up again.
Incidentally, I think I have seen eight of the above. Can anyone beat that?
This happened not because the good cardinal is Eirenephobic (or whatever the word is for a fear of peace), but because he was worried about viruses.
"Let's not!"
Now, although I approve of anything that can stop the Sign of Peace, the words "Let's not" are not in the Novus Ordo liturgy (and "Nolite!" isn't needed in the Extraordinary Form). Besides, the words would come better as a roar from from the congregation than the celebrant.
So we propose a new made-up liturgy (or as we used to call it, "A new Vatican-II inspired translation of the traditional liturgy into the vernacular"), as follows:
Deacon: Let us offer each other a sign of peace.
Congregation: Let's not!
Here the Deacon may shrug his shoulders ruefully, or wave his arms triumphantly, according to choice.
Of course, this business of the congregation refusing to obey can be taken further. "We pray for the personal intentions of Pope Francis" may be blocked by a loud "No, we don't!" if the congregation has any doubts as to what those intentions really are.
How should we respond to this?
Finally, if the clergy are wearing cartoon vestments (as above), then "Thanks be to God" is clearly inappropriate as a reply to "The Mass is ended: go in peace", and the Warner Brothers* have determined that only one liturgically appropriate response is possible.
* A religious order unknown to me.
Illud omnia est, Homines!
"When's Climate Change turning up?"
Celebrate ad orientem. Celebrating versus populum obviously increases the risk that the priest may catch something from the coughing congregation, and should be suspended.
Use only Latin. Try saying something liturgical in Latin, and then try saying the same thing in Vernacular. You will see that when speaking Latin your mouth does not open so widely, and thus the risk of transmitting and receiving germs is reduced. Those traditionalists knew a thing or two!
99% of doctors say NO to holding hands for the "Our Father".
Avoid bad hymns. Scientific studies have shown that singing "Gather us in," "Lord of the Dance," "Kumbayah," or "Shine, Jesus, Shine" puts a strain on the vocal muscles, as well as the brain, and makes one more susceptible to viruses. Safest of all is Gregorian chant, which can mostly be sung with the mouth closed.
No more sign of peace. I was lucky this morning, in that the choir belted into the Agnus Dei very quickly, and only two people
had a chance to share their germs with me (three more were left fuming, as I switched off my friendly expression and tried looking pious instead).
In general, a simple handshake can transmit 100000000000000000000000 bugs, so be warned. Grinning distantly is safest, but kicking your
opponent neighbour will also work if he insists on physical contact.
"Peace be with you."
Wear earmuffs. This will protect you against bad doctrine in the homily far better than handwash and a face mask would.
Remove all pests from the church. Traditionally, illnesses have been transmitted by pests. So clear your church of all rats, spiders, Jesuits, and anything else that may carry disease.
Ban dancing. Bad news for Tagle, the Dancing Cardinal, but it's obvious that prancing around like a teenager in a disco is going to spread germs widely. So stop!
Spot the ninny. (Hint: they are all ninnies.)
Stay at home and watch it on television. Yes but, as I have explained before, this will only allow you to watch Heaven on television, rather than attend in person. So don't do it for very long.
The event took place in St Peter's Square, where the Pope had been greeting pilgrims. Seeing I-va Ree, he turned away hastily, but the indomitable Chinaman insisted on holding his hand and shouting a slogan, which our experts insist was "Read my book!"
The moment when Pope Francis realized that he would have to slap I-va Ree.
Our theological correspondent Benny Dictus writes:
Violence is a well-established procedure in the Catholic Church, dating back to the time when Jesus slapped the sick woman who clutched his coat. Then, St Nicholas is celebrated for punching Arius, saying "I don't like your face, chummy! Ho ho ho!"
Nowadays, in a Novus Ordo Mass, anyone who attempts to continue the Sign of Peace too long - e.g. when the Agnus Dei has started - is liable to a good sloshing as well. So there is nothing unusual here.
The Sign of Peace, as performed by a Karate Master.
Is it: Faith? Hope? Charity? Humility? Mercy? Jesuit fudging? True doctrine (stop sniggering at the back)?
Nothing like Pope Francis, but would probably do just as good a job.
No, it's "I can't be bothered to run the Church myself, and so the Bishops' Conferences - which are already deciding on their own interpretations of Amoris Laetitia - will now be able to have their own Mass translations." Well, we say "translations", but "free variations on a theme in accordance with 'some principles handed on since the time of Vatican II' (???)" is nearer the point.
Over to Father James Martin SJ, the Pope's special adviser on doctrine, and a man with lots of original ideas.
"I'm going for a special Jesuit translation, which will omit the General Confession entirely, since we don't recognise any sins these days. Well, except voting for Trump, ignoring climate change, or refusing to laugh at Steve Colbert's tasteful jokes."
One of Steve Colbert's tasteful jokes.
"Then the Creed will become a free for all, in which the congregation will be encouraged to join when they feel like it, and remain silent over the bits they disagree with (this may be all of it!) We shall also have a few minutes at the end of the Creed for worshippers to add their own new ideas - for example about the Holy Spirit being female, and Mary Magdalene the first pope."
"But the highlight will be the sign of peace, when the Priest - this is too imortant for a Deacon - will invite people to participate with the words 'GIVE US A KISS'. The men in the congregation (for doctrinal reasons women are not welcome here) will be asked to come up and embrace the priest."
Practising for the Sign of Peace.
Others have their own ideas for rewriting the Mass. Many experts in Latin have pointed out that the correct translation of "Et cum spiritu tuo" is NOT "And with your spirit", but "And also with you". Or, more correctly, "Cheers, mate!" So this is likely to change.
And just because two countries speak the same language, that is no reason for them to say the same words. American Catholics (the few who attend Mass) will probably go for the LGBTSJ translation above, while English Catholics (we can't call them Anglo Catholics, unfortunately) will have a form of words known as "Vin-acular" based on the Liverpudlian traditions of Cardinal Nichols. Finally, Australian masses will include an interval for "tinnies", and the final part will be based on the traditional Latin prayer "Saltatio Vindobonensis Cum Matilda" or "Waltzing Matilda".
We live in interesting times, my friends.
"This should last a lifetime, Arthur. Or until some fool changes it again."
1. What was the first thing you noticed on arriving at your place of worship?
a) A man high up in the tower shouting "Allahu Akbar!" b) The jolly ringing of church bells, intermingled with the screams of someone who had caught his foot in the bellrope. c) Hooting and swearing from drivers trying to park their cars. d) A solemn silence. e) An axe flying past your head and a cry of "Odin is great!"
"Welcome to our humble service of worship. I'm the vicar."
2. Did you have difficult finding a seat?
a) No, as there were only three people present. b) Yes, but I kicked out old Granny Bannister, and took her place. c) We do not sit in our church, but meditate while standing on our heads. d) No, but a bouncer removed me, hissing "Get out of the bishop's cathedra!" e) No, because I was part of the clown procession, and had a reserved bath of custard to lie in.
The liturgical significance of custard has been under-estimated.
3. Which (if any) of the following sacred beings were mentioned during the sermon?
a) Pope Francis. b) Fr James Martin SJ. c) Lord Oates, the Quaker Maximus. d) The crocodile god. e) Rowan Williams. f) Donald Trump. g) The Duchess of Cambridge.
"I take as my text the 2000th tweet of St James to the Twitteratians"
4. The sign of peace. What do you do?
a) We don't have it, although we are allowed to smile at our neighbours if we don't get too excited. b) As little as possible, but usually one or two people catch me. c) I embrace as many as I can, and later go round to the houses of all the people I missed. d) I grab my neighbour's hand firmly, and squeeze until he cries for mercy. e) In our church we smoke a pipe of peace.
No, I don't know, either.
5. What music was there?
a) Gregorian chant. b) Sankey's Sacred Songs and Solos ("Throw out the lifeline across the dark wave; There is a brother whom someone should save"). c) 100 Hymns for Hippies. d) Something old, tuneful, and spiritually nourishing. e) The Kevin Mayhew book of Bad Hymns.
"The organist is sick, but Mr Banerjee has agreed to play 'Shine, Jesus, Shine' on the nose-flute instead."
6. What was on offer after the service?
(a) Coffee and Eccles cakes in the church hall. (b) Gin, toiler cleaner and hair-restorer, chez Anti Moly. (c) Cold tap water (we are tops for asceticism). (d) The priest's own-brand spinach wine. (e) As much liturgical custard as we could drink.
"More gin, vicar?"
Thank you for completing our questionnaire, and if you have any further comments please keep them to yourself.
So it seems only appropriate to award a "Catholic of the Year" title to someone who has inspired the most spiritual nourishment on this blog. The winner should probably be Pope Francis, but to avoid cries of "Is the pope actually Catholic?" we need to look further afield.
"Old Man Francis, he don't say nothing, he must know something..."
We reluctantly eliminated Cardinal Dolan at the swimsuit round (well, just before it, thank goodness), although the judges inadvertently allowed Fr James Martin SJ to compete in his mankini. Two of them are still in intensive care, as a result.
Cardinal Kasper continued to score highly, but he was disqualified for having an unfair advantage (being as mad as a hatter). Moreover, Fr Rosica refused to return his entry form, simply screaming "you're blocked" at our staff.
Cardinal Dolan rehearses for the finals of COTY.
Of the British entrants, Prof. Tina Beattie was a bit quiet this year, although probably still very active in the "human flourishing" business, and Austen Ivereigh - in spite of a promising meltdown in December - did not put up a consistently nutty performance throughout the year. Others, such as Vincent Nichols, who can normally be relied upon to do something interesting, just didn't seem to be trying this year.
Three promising newcomers are the new American cardinals, Cupich, Farrell and Tobin, and we expect them to be strong entrants for the "Catholic of the Year" title next year. It just goes to show that a mere nobody may one day end up as pope...
Cardinal Cupich shows how senior churchmen behave with dignity.
We haven't yet blogged about him, but Archbishop Mark Coleridge of Brisbane is a strong tip for spiritually nourishing entertainment in 2017. Apart from his intemperate remarks about the four cardinals, he has found a novel use for churches in his diocese - naughtiness. Why isn't this man also a cardinal?
There are worse pictures around, but this is a family blog.
So the three finalists turned out to be
1. Fr Antonio Spadaro SJ, the Tolkien scholar;
2. Fr James Martin SJ, the Biblical scholar; and
3. The late Fr Jack Hackett (probably SJ), the most famous Catholic to die in 2016.
It was impossible to choose between them, so let's finish off with a few iconic souvenirs of 2016.
Pope Francis closes the "Door of Mercy" as the Jubilee Year of Revenge begins.
Fr Williams shows how to stay healthy after giving the Sign of Peace.
A South American bishop explains the new guidelines in Amoris Laetitia.
It really has been a tough year for Pope Francis (seen Before/After).
Not the actual church, but something like it.
The church itself was built in Catholic times, several hundred years before the Reformation. I'm told that when the Church of England was set up they planned to construct a whole new set of churches, but thanks to the generosity of the Catholic Church, which lent them its own buildings, they didn't need to.
The first hymn was Onward, Christian Soldiers. I am not sure whether this was chosen as being appropriate for Lent, or because we are soon expecting to fight a re-run of the Crimean war. The hymn has a stirring tune by Sir Arthur Sullivan, and this verse in particular stood out:
Like a mighty army Moves the Church of God; Brothers, we are treading Where the Saints have trod. We are not divided; All one body we: One in hope and doctrine, One in charity.This is where the Anglicans definitely have the edge - I don't think the Catholics could sing "One in hope and doctrine" with a straight face (see this blog, passim, for reasons why not). But then a dreadful thought struck me? Was S. Baring-Gould being satirical? Were Baring-Gould and Sullivan a comic partnership similar to Gilbert and Sullivan?
I don't think he was being satirical there.
I checked this with an Anglican after the service. "Don't you have dissenters too? Some Anglicans want women bishops, some don't believe in the authority of women priests. Some of you campaign for same-sex weddings, and others think they're an abomination?"
"No, Eccles, we all believe in the traditional Christian doctrine handed down by our ancestors. We may allow some women to call themselves bishops, but nobody really takes them seriously."
The comic vestments are a hint that she is not to be taken seriously.
Then I thought of Giles Fraser, and realised that the Anglicans do have the official position of "comedy vicar" - a spiritual version of court jester - which does not exist in the Catholic Church, although some very well-qualified people are campaigning for its introduction.
The sermon was rather good. Part of the message was again relevant to the Catholic Church with which I am more familiar - the vicar was explaining the virtues of obedience, and he said in an exasperated tone that some people thought that obedience was only for dogs. Perhaps all is not well in the C of E? Do they have people like Hans Küng? Is there an Anglican ACTA trying to undermine Justin Welby? These are deep waters, Watson.
An obedient dog.
We had four hymns, all dating from the 19th century or earlier - in contrast with the last but one Catholic Mass I went to, where all four hymns were from the 1960s or later. We even had "Who would true valour see" by Bunyan, which would make a perfectly good Catholic hymn too. This was the traditional version with hobgoblins, foul fiends and lions to fight, rather than the weaker version one sometime sees; however, it was mildly modernised to "No goblin or foul fiend". I am not sure whether a goblin with a hob is better or worse than a hob-less one.
This will not daunt his spirit.
Oh, there was one dreadful part of the service. The infamous "Sign of Peace". The little country church had about thirty worshippers, and approximately fifteen of them insisted on shaking hands with me - in a Catholic Mass it might be eight out of 150. I had the feeling that some people had got up that Sunday morning and said "I'll bet I can shake hands with thirty people today. My average over the last ten services is 28.4."
Practising for the "peace".
Still, apart from that, a good time was had by all.
