To Bless Gay Weddings, Vote Me Pope

I wrote this article for The Canberra Times in 2013. Sadly, it’s just as relevant today. This is an edited version.

I believe a vacancy is about to arise in your esteemed organisation and I forthwith put myself forward for consideration for the position of Pope for the 21st Century. My credentials for the position are extensive.

I have read The Da Vinci Code. So I’m fully aware of the lunatic nature of albino monk assassins and the dangers of carrying anti-matter in the papal helicopter. Or was that Demons and Angels?

 

On a personal level, I was baptised at St Kevin’s Parish Church, went to the parish school, and attended so many funerals by the age of 11 the smell of incense terrifies me as I think I must be dead. I know my school catechism by heart (Do you believe in God? I believe in God the Father almighty creator of Heaven and earth) and the Apostle’s Creed (I believe in God the Father almighty creator of Heaven and earth … Ah, bit of overlap there). I can also mumble an extensive range of hymns (Faith of our fathers! Holy faith! We will be true to thee till death!) I suspect, however, that ‘Faith of our fathers, living still/In spite of dungeon, fire and sword’ might need a little update.

 

In Grade 2 I studied the pictorial Book of Martyrs. The graphic pictures included St Sebastian at the stake stuck with arrows and spurting blood and John the Baptist with his head on a silver platter with, I swear, a piece of parsley. To be honest, it put me off the career path of martyr.

I think I’m more suited to Pope. The gold jewellery, the yards of silk, the sweet slippers, the adorable capes along with 1.5 million followers on Twitter. Celebrities would die for that PR.

I wrote JMJ (Jesus, Mary and Joseph) at the top of every work page but still got answers wrong. No miracles there. I know how to pray, although, to be honest; my family holds the land speed record for saying the Hail Mary.

I wouldn’t be the first female pope. Some say Pope Joan did a good job until you lot stoned her to death. Fast-tracking me to Pope could rebalance 2,000 years of male domination.

As Her Holiness, I’d assume the name Pope Maria taken from The Sound of Music. As a virgin with 7 children, Maria is an ideal role model. 

My modernisation program would involve rewriting the 10 Commandments (Thou shalt not kill. This includes you too America.), making St Peter’s Basilica more homely (a few bean bags should do the trick), admitting fallibility (Church numbers are way down. Something’s wrong) and inviting women to be priests to stop the priesthood turning into an exclusive club of celibate, frock-wearing geriatrics.

My attendance at mass has dropped off, well, permanently of late. When I last fronted a mass and saw the communion wafers and wine I thought ‘a little camembert would be nice’. Obviously, I need a grace upgrade. But I do know Christ’s teachings.

Jesus never said ‘go and grab the best real estate and build monuments to the glory of architecture using cheap labour’. Nor did he say, ‘fill my churches with gold and precious stones looted from native people’s in pagan dominions’. He never said ‘argue among yourselves over the wording of the bible, so you splinter into fractious and violent sects’ although ‘transubstantiation’ is a big word. But it’s not in the bible.

Christ never commanded the crusades, the Inquisition, or the Irish squabbles so we can only assume that there have been leadership problems for about, say, 2,000 years.

Mostly, however, I want to produce a kinder, gentler, more humble, and less judgmental leadership with less pomp and ceremony and more care for the poor, the sick, the marginalised, and the neglected.

Something much closer to Christ’s teachings. Something, I think, more like the Salvos. And I’d be the first Pope to whip it up with the trombone.

Yours Faithfully, KC

At EASTER: The Female Face of God

THERE’S A FEMALE SIDE OF GOD?

This is SOPHIA a mural by Adnate in the small Uniting Church in Goorambat 226 km from Melb. She represents the female side of the Holy Spirit. Is this even in the Bible? 

My friend who studies the Bible tells me Sophia (Σοφία) in Greek means wisdom. In the book of Proverbs by Soloman wisdom is personified and is female. In Proverbs Chs 7-9 wisdom is called a sister.

In the OT passages about the Spirit, the Hebrew noun is feminine. In Genesis 1:27 “So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them” which points to a female part/person of God.

Good God! No one ever told me that before.

 

The First Rule of Book Club. The sex discussed in Book Club stays in Book Club.

Sex  sells  books. And I’ve made a study  of  the  sex  that  sells books. There are two types. Firstly,  there  are  the  Boys’   Own   Adventure   Stories.  In  these  Blockbuster  books  with embossed  gold  author’s  name  above  the title, a name which should leap out at you in the airport bookshop shouting ‘buy me, I’m a big, ballsy, blockbuster adventure book. Sshhhhhh!’ That is  the  sound  of  testosterone  eminating  from  the  hero’s  armpits. These  books  are generally written by blokes for blokes and  offer a peep show view of a well-packaged Male Sex Fantasy.  In  a  Boys’  Own  Adventure  Blockbuster  our  hero  has  sensational  sex  on the second page with, perhaps, a stunningly beautiful nurse in a bi-plane over the trenches in  France  in the  First  World  War to  the  accompaniment of a battlefield soundtrack. The  sex  takes  one paragraph before he ressumes his  testostrone-feuled  life -threatening  but heroic adventure, which  continues  at  a  clipping  pace  until  his  next  rapid-fire  sexual encounter, probably with a besotted milk-maid in a barn near where his bi-plane recently crashed. This could istart with a hand job. Those milk maids do have rare talents.

Meanwhile, in the  Girls’  Own  Romance  Novel,  aimed obviously at the chic-lit aficionado, the Female Sex Fantasy ambles aimlessly over many pages. Our  hero  and heroine meet in the first chapter and  are  then  tragically  separated  for  the  next  17 chapters. They finally meet  again  in  chapter 18, declare  their  true  love  and  have  sex in  an historical setting, perhaps  in  an  old  castle  that  our  hero, The Earl of Essex,  recently  inherited among his many estates. But they don’t  just  jump  onto  each  other’s bones. The  sexual  tension must build until the air is  fraught  with  anticipation. There  will  be  a  small  break  in the middle of Chapter 18 for  a  sensual  meal  with  flowing wine, furtive  glances and a searing accidental  contact  of,  say,  his  finger  tips  brushing  her, um,  wrist. When  the  shagging  finally takes place  it  will  be  in  an  historical  four-poster bed and the process from the first kiss to the Halluhejah chorus will take an entire chapter.

This  is,  of course, my  take  on  the genres. But I am grateful to Judith Newman for throwing more light on Male vs Female literary sexual fantasies. In her article, Dear Book Club: It’s You, Not Me  (MAY 11, 2017)  in  the  New  York  Times, she  told  the story of one couples Book Club that  came  to  grief  following  a  discussion  of  the  sex in Cormac McCarthy’s  “All the Pretty Horses.”  According to book club member Elizabeth St. Clair, a lawyer, “the main character is staying in a bunkhouse, and over the course of several nights a gorgeous strange woman comes to his bed and has sex with him. The men  in  the  group  thought  this  was the most romantic thing ever — dark, anonymous sex with no consequences.” The men in the book club thought this was a very romantic scenario.

The women just roared laughing. ‘Guffawing’  was  the  term  used. No woman, they argued, would turn up to have anonymous sex in the dark with a man they couldn’t see. Was he old? Was he diseased? Does  he smell? Was  he a psychopath? Moreover,  he  was  in  a  remote cabin, in a bunk bed. Are you joking? This  is  not going to happen. Apparently, the men were offended.  Arguments  ensued. St Clair  suggested  this  set  the  seed  for  the  end  of  her relationship.

So there it is. Enjoy  reading  your  blockbuster  novel.  But  try  to  remember the first Rule of Book Club. The sex discussed in Book Club, stays  in  Book  Club. Or you might find yourself very lonely tonight.