Bishops Resigning

A little fantasy scene from Fr Zed, who thinks some Bishops ought to resign.

But how best to make that happen?

If I were Pope, I would form a small corps of monsignori tasked to obtain some resignations… I think I would recruit them from, say, Sicily. They seem to know how to do this sort of thing quietly, with a smile.

"Eccellenza… our Holy Fadher isa greatly concerned fora your healt." One sits down a little too close to the bishop. The other, still standing, opens his jacket, reaches in and draws out a beautiful Waterman fountain pen and thick, folded sheet of paper. The bishop’s eye is drawn to the momentary bloody-red flash from the stone in the visitor’s cuff-link.

"You would, Monsignore, give greata consolation to da Holy Fahder were you to step down anda den… how you say Monsignore Brazzi? ... shtare rinda?..." "Stay insida you house", intones Msgr. Brazzi at the bishop’s side… never taking his eyes from the bishop’s face. "...rinda ... inside… nota go out…." "’Inside’... yes… daats eeet", repeats the standing visitor, the pleats of his pants like knives. "You reada da Mass. You reada da books. You eata da lunch. You pray da Rosario. You confessare. Rinda. No agitazioni. [Someone could help Abp. Weakland with this translation, no? Yes?? Bene!]

You worka hard… tooo haaard fora too many yeers. Time to rest.. fora your healt. You see, Eccellenza Reverendissima, we are only concerned fora your healt. You wait quiet, maybe now and den talka to police when dey come? Giornalisti later… after polizia."

The bishop swallows hard and, trying to summon some courage blusters, "What is your name, Father!? I will…" The dark-haired monsignor leans over the desk toward the bishop, who falls back into his high backed leather chair. "My name is Monsignore Vito Andolini. E chist è pe tia!"

He hands the bishop the Waterman. Meanwhile, in a different office of the same chancery, another pair of monsignori are speaking with the auxiliary bishop – infamous liturgical weirdo – about the likelihood of promotion to a soon to be created role as Apostolic Envoy to the Pirates of the Gulf of Aden. "Who better than you? ... Eccellenza? You feeling, alrighta?" His hand reaches past the sharp-lapel and into the inner pocket of his well-tailored jacket.

I'll supply the horses, if necessary....