Women, keep silent in church!

1 Corinthians 14:34 reads, in one version:

Let women keep silence in the churches: for it is not permitted them to speak, but to be subject, as also the law saith.

Somehow, this is not as much a regular part of the liturgy as the great Chapter 13, with its

And now there remain faith, hope, and charity [love], these three: but the greatest of these is charity [love].

Women (and one priest) keeping silent, but, er...

Here are a couple of possible interpretations of what St Paul had in mind:

1. There should be no women priests or deacons; no women reading the lessons; maybe no women in the choir?

2. There should be no women chattering during the service.

Of these, (2) is probably more sexist than (1). There are other theological arguments against the ordination of women, but (2) - which was offered to me by a woman - seems unfair. Is the female sex the "chattering" sex?

Today at Mass, it definitely was. Two elderly ladies (60ish) were sitting next to me, and they spent the entire sermon conversing in loud whispers. I glanced over at one point, and one of them was showing the other a train ticket.

The next morning Andrew told his brother "We have found a train ticket."

So I decided to focus on Fr H's sermon, which was all to do with being called by the Lord. At least, until a flash of light from my left distracted me. Yes, one of the ladies was consulting her mobile phone, and showing her neighbour a text she had received.

I suspect that the text was something like "Come home at once, the parrot has caught fire," for, the moment the sermon was over, the two ladies crept out - pushing past me with a glare. Evidently, that was enough spiritual nourishment for one week.

Still, it's not only women... men chatter as well. Occasionally, I hear comments drifting over: "Excellent blog by Eccles this week. I learnt a lot from it. Really spiritually nourishing." And that was just the priest talking to his deacon while the altar servers were doing their stuff.

Of course another text from St Paul that is not often read out is where he condemns homosexual acts. Stephen Fry's assertion that he and his young friend have become "one person" by signing a book probably can't be justified on Biblical grounds.

Fry and friend. Two persons, or maybe one. Whatever.

Saint of the Week - St Martin McGuinness

When parents christen their baby James Martin Pacelli McGuinness - note the Pacelli after Pope Pius XII - you can be sure that he will grow up to be a pious Catholic, destined for rapid canonization. Admittedly he may have been a bit of a handful as a child - there are stories told of his tarring and feathering his teddy-bear, kneecapping his golliwog, and attempting to bury his Humpty Dumpty doll in an unmarked grave - but we knew that he would grow out of such childish habits. By the way, there is no truth in the story that his pet kitten was blown up by semtex to punish it for bringing in a dead mouse.

Pacelli? Why didn't the parents choose Al Capone, Don Corleone or Sinatra?

After a distinguished political career, Martin rose to be the deputy First Minister of Northern Ireland. His was the voice of Catholicism, in contrast to the nasty Protestants led by Ian Paisley. Indeed, many believed that a holy man like Martin would become a priest, perhaps something like Fr Tony Flannery; maybe he would even rise to be a distinguished archbishop like Seán Brady. The Catholic Church in Ireland had never had it so good.

Fathers Paisley and McGuinness enjoy an ecumenical joke together.

Eventually Martin, who had been MP for mid-Ulster, left the British House of Commons. To do this he had to apply for either the Stewardship of the Chiltern Hundreds, or the Stewardship of the Manor of Northstead. He chose the latter, and the good people of Northstead were indeed blessed by several weeks' just stewardship with hardly anybody being murdered. Since Gerry Adams and Ian Paisley have also held this stewardship at various times, this remote part of Yorkshire is rapidly becoming a place of pilgrimage.

Lourdes? No, simply the gardens of the Manor of Northstead.

St Martin is in the news again now, for he has announced a change in the Catholic doctrine on abortion. From now on, it's OK to kill Catholics in the womb, as - for some people - it's always been OK to kill Protestants outside the womb. "I try and be the best Catholic I can be," says Martin, and who can doubt that he has always been the best Catholic he could ever be? After all, Hitler was a pious Catholic, as atheists never stop telling us, and Martin is no less a saint.

Explaining to Archbishop Eamon Martin what the new rules are.

So please give us no more talk about Martin McGuinness being excommunicated. Rather let us talk of this saintly man being swept up to Heaven with a blaze of trumpets. Alleluia!

© Extreme Loony Socialist Party of Ireland.

---

On another topic, here's some moral instruction:

Thomas De Quincey's thought for the day.

It's time to mock Charlie Hebdo

Although this blog is primarily for spiritual nourishment, we do occasionally tease the arrogant and powerful; likewise, we receive criticism in good humour.

For example, if Pope Francis insults my mother by calling her a self-absorbed promethean neopelagian, then I do not feel it necessary to punch him. In fact, since he was once employed as a nightclub bouncer, he probably packs quite a good punch himself.

Pope Francis demonstrates the Catholic "punch of peace".

Likewise, if a deacon from Hell devotes a blog post to a character assassination of me, simply because I don't have a high opinion of Bernadette Farrell, then I take it in good humour, simply making a few cryptic references to idiots in garden sheds.

Now, how should we react if people insult Jesus, Mary, etc.? In Chesterton's The Ball and the Cross, there is the distinct suggestion that we should fight them:

The glass fell in ringing fragments on to the pavement, and Evan sprang over the barrier into the shop, brandishing his stick.
  "What is this?" cried little Mr. Turnbull, starting up with hair aflame. "How dare you break my window?"
  "Because it was the quickest cut to you," cried Evan, stamping. "Stand up and fight, you crapulous coward. You dirty lunatic, stand up, will you? Have you any weapons here?"
  "Are you mad?" asked Turnbull, glaring.
  "Are you?" cried Evan. "Can you be anything else when you plaster your own house with that God-defying filth? Stand up and fight, I say."
  A great light like dawn came into Mr. Turnbull's face. Behind his red hair and beard he turned deadly pale with pleasure. Here, after twenty lone years of useless toil, he had his reward. Someone was angry with the paper. He bounded to his feet like a boy; he saw a new youth opening before him.

Never mind this blog: here's something much better to read.

Obviously we do not approve of fanatics murdering cartoonists, even talentless prats who couldn't make a decent joke. Still, if Cardinal Vingt-Trois had horsewhipped the Charlie Hebdo editor on the steps of Notre Dame, many would have thought it no more than he deserved. Cartoons about the Virgin Mary giving birth, or Jesus being sodomized, deserve some response. Curiously, a lot of the Charlie Hebdo stuff is sexual: I suspect that its staff pinched most of their ideas from toilet walls.

So, Cardinal 23 definitely shouldn't have been ringing the bells of Notre Dame in memory of Stéphane "Charb" Charbonnier and his bunch of talentless freaks - a gesture mocked in the new issue of Charlie Hebdo:

"What made us laugh the most is that the bells of Notre Dame rang in our honour," the editorial stated. "We would like to send a message to Pope Francis, who, too, was 'Charlie' this week: we only accept the bells of Notre Dame ringing in our honour when it is Femen who make them tinkle."

No, it's a gesture they don't appreciate. What they appreciate is tasteless abuse.

Charb has some awkward questions to answer at the Pearly Gates.

Got that? Je ne suis pas Charlie. Charlie Hebdo is a blasphemous Christ-hating pile of garbage, written by some very creepy people indeed. As you see from the picture above, Charb himself wore a shirt which his mother bought him when he was a teenager. Also, he couldn't even shave properly. A Peter Pan character stuck in the 1960s. A man whose hobbies included pulling the wings off butterflies and writing on toilet walls. His only friend was a pet rat called Eric, and even Eric decided he was too repulsive and ran away.

A bunch of fools sticking up for radical secularism.

Ring the bells of Notre Dame for the thousands killed by Boko Haram, or for the millions killed by abortionists. Given the quality of French driving you might even ring them for the thousands killed in road accidents. Just don't honour people who insulted your God.

The Bells! The Bells!

All right, rant over. Let Chesterton have the last word. Our duellists, Evan MacIan (Catholic) and James Turnbull (atheist) have reached France.

"Yes, France!" said Turnbull, and all the rhetorical part of him came to the top, his face growing as red as his hair. "France, that has always been in rebellion for liberty and reason. France, that has always assailed superstition with the club of Rabelais or the rapier of Voltaire. France, at whose first council table sits the sublime figure of Julian the Apostate. France, where a man said only the other day those splendid unanswerable words"—with a superb gesture—"'we have extinguished in heaven those lights that men shall never light again.'"
  "No," said MacIan, in a voice that shook with a controlled passion. "But France, which was taught by St. Bernard and led to war by Joan of Arc. France that made the crusades. France that saved the Church and scattered the heresies by the mouths of Bossuet and Massillon. France, which shows today the conquering march of Catholicism, as brain after brain surrenders to it, Brunetière, Coppée, Hauptmann, Barrès, Bourget, Lemaître."
  "France!" asserted Turnbull with a sort of rollicking self-exaggeration, very unusual with him, "France, which is one torrent of splendid scepticism from Abelard to Anatole France."
  "France," said MacIan, "which is one cataract of clear faith from St. Louis to Our Lady of Lourdes."
  "France at least," cried Turnbull, throwing up his sword in schoolboy triumph, "in which these things are thought about and fought about. France, where reason and religion clash in one continual tournament. France, above all, where men understand the pride and passion which have plucked our blades from their scabbards. Here, at least, we shall not be chased and spied on by sickly parsons and greasy policemen, because we wish to put our lives on the game. Courage, my friend, we have come to the country of honour."

Of course, times have changed. And Charlie Hebdo isn't exactly Voltaire, is it?

Oxford University Press becomes Muslim-friendly

Following the decision by Oxford University Press that its authors should not mention pigs, pork, sausages, or other pig-related words in children's books in order to avoid offending Muslims, it was announced today that all pigs in existing works would in future be replaced by camels. Said a spokesman, "You can't be too careful. Look what happened to Charlie Hebdo."

The sort of filth we need to stamp out.

In the new OUP Animal Farm, the animals of Manor Farm, led by two camels, Mohammed and Abdul, revolt against the evil Farmer Jones. In best Muslim tradition they do this by means of a jihad, and impose Sharia Law. In the end, however, the camels betray the Islamic Revolution.

The pig must go!

Likewise, in the Blandings Castle books of P.G. Wodehouse, the stories are rewritten slightly, so that the Sheikh Al-Emsworth is obsessed by his prize camel, the Emir of Blandings (it would not be appropriate for the camel to be female!) His burkha-wearing sister Lady Fatima Bint-Keeble is also in attendance, although she naturally plays a submissive role. The dissolute brother G'Allah'ad Threepwood is no longer allowed to drink alcohol, but he loves his regular tipple of lemonade. He eventually becomes a heroic suicide bomber.

Goodbye, Piglet! You're unclean.

Meanwhile, the character of Piglet has been dropped from the Winnie-the-Pooh stories, to be replace by Camlet, a young camel. The story is also being made more Muslim-friendly with the addition of a flogging (Kanga, an unmarried mother), a paw-cutting (Tigger, for dishonesty), and a decapitation of the intellectual Wol.

Prime Minister David Cameron had no comment to make on the changes being made, except to ask whether it would be possible to include a transgendered character or even a same-sex marriage somewhere in the Winnie-the-Pooh stories, to reflect the diversity of modern Britain. He was invited to take this issue up with the Muslims.

This must go too.

Finally, it was realised that even children sometimes consult dictionaries, and so from now on the prestigious Oxford English Dictionary will no longer contain the words pig, pork, or sausage.

Oops... Sir Francis Bacon.

We should reassure readers that the writings of Sir Francis Bacon will continue to be published, although the author's name will be changed to Sir Francis Halal-Meat.

Anti-Catholic magazine sells 3 million copies

Thanks to a brilliant marketing coup, the anti-Catholic magazine The Tablet, edited by Catherine Pepinster, went on sale this week under the name Cathy's Tablo, and promptly sold three million copies to people who had confused it with the rival magazine Charlie Hebdo.

Cathy's Tablo (top shelf only).

Said one shocked customer, a Cardinal V.N. of London. "As someone who wouldn't dream of offending the prevailing secular consensus, I have been supporting the Je suis Charlie campaign this week, and so naturally I wanted to buy a copy of the Charlie Hebdo magazine. Because of its content it is sold on the top shelf of the newsagents, and I must inadvertently have picked up the adjacent and very similar Cathy's Tablo by mistake. Imagine my shock! I was expecting some nasty and unfunny cartoons mocking Mohammed, Jesus, the Trinity, etc. What I found instead was some nasty and unfunny writing, mocking the Christian teaching that is so dear to my heart. Who on earth thought that Hans Küng, Tina Beattie and Tony Flannery belonged in a Catholic paper?"

A Tablo contributor. Admit it, you just shuddered, didn't you?

It was reported that the "Je suis Cathy" campaign was now taking off, and that a second demonstration would be held in Paris this coming Sunday, to be led by François Hollande, Angela Merkel, David Cameron, Kim Jong Un, Robert Mugabe, Raúl Castro and Xi Jinping. People who are not famous are asked to attend a separate "plebs only" demonstration, so that they do not accidentally appear in the celebrities' selfies.

French police accidentally treat "Je suis Charlie" as a normal demonstration.

Meanwhile, in other news, the Nigerian President has sent a message of support to "Je suis Charlie", regretting that he was unable to take part in the photo-call march, since there was the little matter of 2,000 of his people just having been massacred by Boko Haram. Since these were just Nigerian peasants, rather than European intellectuals, he realised that his own massacre was relatively insignificant, but he felt that he should at least stay around to keep an eye on things. However, he signed the letter of apology with the words "Goodluck Jonathan", to show his support.

"Oh, why did my parents christen me 'Goodluck'?"

Why aren't you joining in the mass hysteria?

As the mutually enriching Fr John Hunwicke was probably the first to say, the eerie mass hysteria of the "Je suis Charlie" marchers is just a rerun of events surrounding Princess Diana's demise.

About the least offensive of all the Charlie Hebdo cartoons.

So let us look forward to this week's mass hysteria.

Tony Blair will come out of his coffin retirement to make a moving speech, explaining that these were the People's Cartoonists. The fact that they grossly insulted God, Jesus, etc. will be ignored because "We don't do God."

Elton John will rework his "Candle in the Wind" into a moving "Bougie* dans le vent", which will sell 100000000000000 copies and make him even richer than before.

* Note to non-linguists: "bougie" means "candle" not "budgie".

The Queen will be "told" to fly the Union Flag at half mast at Buckingham Palace, or risk being deposed by an invasion of sans-culottes (people without underpants). That sort of thing is very popular in France, at least in July.

Mohamed "Al" Fayed (yes, he's still alive, and probably still barking mad) will explain how the Duke of Edinburgh masterminded the murder of the Charlie Hebdo staff.

Many of us will be shunned by our families, friends and neighbours, because we dare to go outside without wearing a "Je suis Charlie" badge.

Spot the heartless terrorism-supporting brute who doesn't have a placard.

Je suis Eccles

After the distressing events of this week, you may be unsure how to react. We suggest a few possibilities: which of these slogans is yours?

Je suis Charlie

Look, I know some people are going to find my views controversial here, but I really feel I should stick my neck out and say that I am not a fan of murdering journalists and cartoonists. I mean, I found one of the Alex comic strips in the Telegraph totally pathetic and unfunny - well, most of them, actually - but I didn't feel I had to kill someone. Call me a woolly liberal who jumps on whatever bandwagon is going, but that's just how I am. If my views have caused offence, I apologise.

Je suis Charlie.

Je ne suis pas Charlie / Je suis non Charlie / Je non suis Charlie pas / Suis-je Charlie / Qui suis-je / Je suis la plume de ma tante (depending on level of fluency in French)

Of course I don't think those guys should have been murdered. However, unlike them I don't think that throwing bricks at the gendarmes in the 1968 riots was a pretty neat trick, and I've actually seen some of the repulsive anti-Catholic cartoons that the Charlie Hebdo staff produced. So I don't identify with them either. Sigh... I'll explain this again, slowly...

Je suis Ian

Of course my own magazine, Private Parts, which was originally intended as a radical alternative to Punch, is now as much part of the establishment as I am (I hope you watch me on my show Haven't we got any jokes for you?) We don't do much satire in the Parts these days, although we occasionally slip in a joke about child abuse whenever the Catholic Church is in the news. So we shan't be publishing anything that might actually upset someone, or even make them laugh.

The voice of the establishment.

Je suis François

Franchement, je suis hors de mon depth here. Vive la France séculaire, with its même-sexe mariage, l'abortion and le bashing de religion. Eh bien, les Musulhommes are bienvenus en general, particulierement les Musulhommes séculaires. However, I've got trop de femme trouble at le moment, and apart from sending in les gendarmes with all guns blazing je n'ai pas de grande stratégie pour dealing with a crise.

Je suis Jihad Jean

Ever since the days when I used to pull the heads off my dolls, I have been a fan of senseless violence, and defending the reputation of the prophet Mohammed is obviously a cause close to my heart. Starting a bloodbath is the only way to make people appreciate that Muslims are essentially peace-loving people, almost indistinguishable from paid-up members of the Church of England. And when all this is over I'm coming back to England to train as an actuary.

A lecherous, foul-mouthed alcoholic religious figure. I hope this was not based on any particular prophet.

Je suis Tony

As a full-time internet troll in good standing, I will question your motives whatever your reaction to the week's events. If you say nothing I will say you don't care, and if you make a comment I'll say you're attention-seeking. To those people who claim "Je suis Eccles", this is evidence that Brother Eccles - who, my spies tell me, is really Fr Jennifer Eccles, the transgendered Dominican referred to in the previous post - is still using dozens of sockpuppets.

Lily the Pink - some new verses

First, to appreciate this post, you need to be familiar with the classic song "Lily the pink". We particularly appreciate this verse for its sensitive handling of transgender issues:

Jennifer Eccles
Had terrible freckles,
And the boys all called her names,
But she changed with 
Medicinal compound:
Now he joins in all the games.

Pioneers of transgender awareness.

Now, here are four new verses.

Murphy-O'Connor
Thought he was a goner
When Austen said he'd misbehaved:
So they gave him
Medicinal compound:
Now he hopes he may be saved.

"I'm playing all the right notes, but not necessarily in the right order!"

Professor Dawkins
Could not stop his squawkings,
Though they found his views were junk:
So they gave him
Medicinal compound:
Now he's training as a monk.

Professor Dawkins becomes a Trappist.

Damian Thompson
Had mischievous romps on
His blog at the Telegraph:
So they gave him
Medicinal compound:
Now he's gone, and makes folk laugh.

Thompson and Farage get ideas from the Eccles blog.

Cardinal Kasper
Made everyone gasp: "A
Man like this destroys the Church!"
So they gave him
Medicinal compound:
Now they've left him in the lurch.

"Can I come indoors if I behave myself?"

Call my Bluff!

For each word below we have three definitions. Which is the correct one?

Choudary

Looking forward to a bowl of choudary!

1. A choudary is a strongly flavoured soup made of pork. Seen in expressions such as That disgusting choudary has made me feel a little sick.

2. No, "choudary" is a Shakespearean form of "cowardly". See for example, Henry V: Go, go; you are a counterfeit choudary knave!

3. In fact, a choudary is a a cricket stroke that goes badly astray. The word is a corruption of the surname of the late Colin Cowdrey, an England cricket captain. For example: That was a pathetic choudary! Mr grandmother could have done better with a stick of rhubarb! (© Geoffrey Boycott)

A choudary.

Bergoglio

1. Clearly, it's a variation on "imbroglio". After the fiasco of the Extraordinary Synod on the Family, the situation in the Church has become a real bergoglio!

2. Nonsense, it's an Argentine dance, similar to the tango. I'm really looking forward to the next Mass: we're performing a liturgical bergoglio in honour of the bishop!

Time to begin the bergoglio!

3. Actually, it's a very humble peasant dish, something like a stew. The Holy Father came to the canteen today, and ate a simple dish of llama bergoglio!

Pepinster

1. It means a stern governess, of unimpeachable moral character but few religious convictions. The word is a portmanteau of (Mary) "Poppins" and "spinster". "Just a spoonful of sugar helps the Bitter Pill go down!" sang the pepinster.

Mary Pepinster.

2. As you knew all along, it's a very hot spice, something like pepper. Ye are the pepinster of the Earth, and I'm sick of the lot of you! (from the apocryphal Gospel of St Catherine)

3. Obviously, it's a specialised term for someone who controls the puppets in a religious service. The word is a corruption of "puppet minister". The pepinster overslept this morning, so we had to celebrate Mass without using the Teletubby dolls.

Religious Cluedo - or who killed AC?

The story so far: Archbishop Cranmer, the celebrity blogger, has been found murdered. There are six principal suspects, all people who were (justly or unjustly) excluded from his list of the top 100 UK Christians in favour of more exciting people such as Catherine Pepinster, Giles Fraser and Austen Ivereigh. Which one do YOU think was guilty?

Cardinal Green.

The illustrious Cardinal Green, rumoured to have been the Eminence Verte behind the election of Pope Francis (who does not appear in this game), was once seen wandering round the cathedral with a candlestick. Green with envy because his sidekick Vincent Nichols made it onto the Cranmer list, and annoyed because his other sidekick Kieran Conry was exiled to a snakes-and-ladders game, could the Cardinal have decided to bash the celebrity blogger?

Sister White.

No relation to Canon White, the Vicar of Baghdad, who actually won the Cranmer game, Sister White, the pastoral administrator of a church in Milton Keynes, is described by her local priest in the Tablet as "a very good parish priest – she has that feminine quality that parish priests don't have". Why should Anglican lady vicars such as Libby Lane and Kate Bottley be Cranmerized, when this pioneering sister - who actually trades under the name of Sr Yvonne Pilarski - is leading the way for feminism? Sister White was apparently seen in the presbytery with the dagger.

Colonel Custard

The wrath of Damian Thompson ("Colonel Custard" of the Spectator) was wondrous to behold, when he discovered that he was excluded from the top 100, even though less famous Christians such as Tim Stanley, Richard Chartres and Alexander Lucie-Smith were allowed seats at the top table. Damian was last seen in Notting Hill with a piece of lead piping: he claims that it was an an organ pipe that fell off when he played Bach at Mach 2.

Mrs Beacock

An expert in religion, society and human flourishing (which is what we recommend to people who can't cope with grown-up theology), Tina Beacock is a high-profile lecturer, whose comic book God's Mother, Eve's Advocate is subtitled 4004 B.C. and All That. She was last seen on a Thames houseboat with a rope - an innocent enough item, given the context.

Professor Dumb.

Richard Dumbkins, although not a Christian in any meaningful sense, feels that he should have been included, since his writings have done so much to expose the contradictions and silliness of atheism. He was last seen wandering round Oxford with a spanner, although it may simply be that he has a screw loose (in which case shouldn't it have been a screwdriver?)

Mrs Scarlett

Once regarded as the Barbara Cartland of the House of Commons, the authoress of Say Farewell to the Archbishop of Corby, and No Communion for Mrs Mensch, produced a surprisingly orthodox contribution to the great "Should Cardinal Kasper be allowed to destroy the Catholic Church?" debate. However, because it was so sensible, it was largely ignored. She was last seen in New York, bearing a revolver.

So there you have it, six suspects who had reason to kill of Archbishop Cranmer. Over to you...

What to say if you meet a priest, bishop, pope, etc.

There are many occasions on which you may suddenly encounter a person in holy orders: coming out of church is an obvious one, but you may also meet a cleric in the supermarket, the betting shop, or even leaving the public toilets. There is an I-Spy scoring system, for such encounters: the Catholic version of the game gives you 1 point for a deacon, 2 for a priest, 4 for a monsignor, 10 for a bishop, 20 for an archbishop, 50 for a cardinal, and 100 for a pope. Double points if you can name him.

Apologies to Anglicans reading this: I don't know how many canons make an archdeacon, or whether a rural dean is worth more than either. Does anyone?

Mgr Guido Marini and an unidentified pope. 108 points.

Often, you will encounter your lucky cleric on leaving church, just after hearing him preach a sermon. Commenting on the homily is one way to break the ice. If you meet the reverend gentleman in less salubrious circumstances, it may be better to avert your eyes, and pretend you did not see him.

Anyway, here are few gambits that we have tried, with some success.

Deacons.

1. Good sermon, Deacon. I particularly liked the way you refuted the arguments of Fr Timothy Radcliffe. What a numpty, eh?

2. Good morning, Deacon. I'm so glad to hear that the geraniums in your potting-shed are flourishing.

Reading St Paul's epistle to the Geraniums.

Priests.

1. Father, your sermon made me wonder about adiophora. Would you say that 1 Corinthians 8 was helpful on this issue?

2. Father, I keep confusing good and evil. I couldn't tell from your sermon, but maybe you know. Which side are we on?

Bishops.

1. My Lord, how refreshing to hear the Donatist heresy explained by someone who actually knows what it was.

2. Good to see you, Bishop: you're not nearly as overweight as the man in the Spectator was claiming. Pity about the sermon.

Cardinals.

Congratulations on your first prize in the pie-eating competition!

1. Good day, your Eminence. How are we poor laymen to survive if the Church is a ship without a rudder?

2. Good morning, your ex-Eminence. Who are you going to push into the Chair of St Peter next time round?

Don't worry, your Eminence, those men in white coats are your friends. Just get into the van.

Popes.

1. How good of you to drop in to St Tharg's, Holy Father Emeritus. Of course we're not all familiar with the major German philosophers, but your homily sounded very smart.

2. Hell's Teeth, Holy Father, how are we supposed to keep smiling after what you just called us?

Personality test for holy orders

These days, people applying for jobs are often asked to fill in an online personality test, or situational judgement test. Just in case any of my readers is thinking of applying to become a priest, bishop, cardinal, or whatever, here is a selection of the sort of questions you may be asked to answer.

1. You are a young woman vicar in the Anglican church, hoping for a successful career. You have seen how Kate Bottley has managed to draw attention to herself by self-centred fooling around in the House of God. Do you:
(a) Go one step further, and become the first stripping vicar, after which media fame and fortune will await you?
(b) Learn to play the saxophone, so that you will quickly be promoted to the executive position of bishop under sax-discrimination legislation?
(c) Pray "God help us"?

Ite, Missa est!

2. You are a member of the Magic Circle of English and Welsh bishops, and currently a lowly Blessed Prestidigitator, but hoping to be promoted to the inner ring of Sacred Conjurers. Unfortunately, one of your deacons has set up a blog "Safeguard the Bishop of Rome" in which he lists many threats to orthodox Catholic doctrine (ACTA, The Tablet,... all the usual suspects). The Grandmaster of the Magic Circle is leaning on you to do something. Do you:
(a) Tell the deacon that he will spend the rest of his life in a brief period of voluntary prayer and contemplation if he doesn't want to end up locked in a garden shed?
(b) Set up your own rival blog in which you tell of all the exciting things bishops do, such as eating cake with nuns?
(c) Tell the Grandmaster to mind his own business, and take the plank out of his own diocese before trying to remove the speck from yours?

3. You are a fairly inexperienced pope, who is very popular with atheists but totally distrusted by Catholics. Do you:
(a) Pick an easy target such as the Curia, and insult them in fifteen exciting new ways?
(b) Promise to write an encyclical on a topic almost totally unrelated to the Catholic faith, e.g. climate change, pizza toppings, or which football club Catholics should support?
(c) Look around for anyone who may be more popular than yourself (Burke, Müller, Pell, ...), and appoint them to an "invisible" position looking after the Knights of Cyprus, the Bishops of Crete, or the Rooks of Gibraltar.
(d) Proclaim some new and absurd piece of doctrine infallibly, e.g. "From now on, everyone is saved"?

"My usual fee for an audience is $100,000, your popeship."

4. You are a young priest whose well-meaning but totally clueless aunt has given you a gift subscription to the Tablet. When the first copy drops through your letter-box, do you:
(a) Phone your bishop and ask if he will come round and exorcise it?
(b) Read it from cover to cover, and comment "My, that Tony Flannery's a smart young chap, isn't he? If only he were on our side"?
(c) Thank your aunt kindly and wonder whether it would be any good for lining the parrot's cage?

5. You are an embittered old Swiss Catholic priest and theologian. Although you are not allowed to teach Catholic theology, you have written 348 books, with titles such as "My struggle for freedom" and "Why I am still a Christian". But you are still not regarded as a Great Prophet. Do you:
(a) Fill your garden with more statues of yourself?
(b) Phone up Tina Beattie and ask her if she can get you a job at Roehampton?
(c) Buy yourself a New Testament, to find out exactly what Jesus really said.

And finally... a horror story.

6. You have been appointed priest at a parish that has a regular Tridentine Mass, attracting worshippers from other parishes. The worshippers have been led to believe that things will carry on as normal. Do you:
(a) Carry on as usual, in an attempt to become as well-respected as your distinguished predecessor?
(b) Close down the Latin Masses, for that is surely the will of God, as expressed in the Spirit of Vatican II?
(c) Like (b), only you get in some good ranting at the butcher, the baker and the candlestick-maker?

Answers: there are no right answers. But you didn't get the job.