Servus Servorum Dei

This morning I was listening to Radio 4 and, being a Sunday, it was all news of the religious kind. I rather enjoy this once a week foray into various worlds of fantasy. They tend to roam around the world, in order to find the kind of strange groups not normally encountered in Surrey.

This morning, for instance, I found out that the Coptic Church (Egyptian Christians) have a pope. And not only that piece of valuable information, I also discovered how they elect a new one.

Of course, everyone knows how the Catholics do it – a whole bunch of cardinals go into a special, secret chapel and write the name of the person they want to be pope on a piece of paper and put it in a chalice. The ballots are then counted up and the new pope announced by burning the ballots in a fireplace.

If the pope has successfully been elected, they burn the ballots with wet straw in order to create white smoke. If not, the smoke is black and the entire process begins again.

There is also a delightfully weird ritual whereby the ballots are strung together with string, using a needle, before the conflagration. I assume this is to ensure that all the ballots are burned but I’d rather prefer it if it meant something more elaborate.

What I don’t understand about this, though, is what God’s input is in the process. The Catholic pope is God’s representative on earth, after all. Surely God should have a say. Mind you we never have a choice when it comes to the monarchy, so maybe it’s like that. Perhaps the cardinals are saying to God

“Look, we know how busy you are. It’s not like you can have your attention on us ALL the time. So, what we’ll do is we’ll elect the best person for the job, simply because we know all the candidates. We’re also a bit closer to the coal face and know what’s good for your followers.”

Interestingly, reading the Catholic website, Catholic-pages.com, it seems that the pope can change the way the next pope is elected anyway. Each one adds a little something or takes a bit away. The one thing that is never reduced (if anything, it’s increased) is the secrecy surrounding the entire process.

The penalty for talking to anyone about what goes on in the secret place within the Vatican is excommunication from the church. Some pope probably changed this from the original burning at the stake.

However, while the Catholic church seems to ignore the wishes of God, the Coptic church wants to ensure that his will is taken into account when they elect their leader (also called pope). After an elaborate series of procedures, the final three contestants for the position have their names placed in a special crystal chalice (or a special wooden box – it depends what you hear or read).

During a special mass (no secrecy, note) a blindfolded 5 year old boy, chosen randomly from the congregation, must choose one of the names by dipping his hand in and pulling one out. No one must shout out Bingo.

According to the Coptic church, the 5 year old boy is acting with the will of God. I guess that’s because he can’t read the names very well or be swayed by any sort of bias. It must be nice to believe in this sort of thing; all responsibility can be abrogated to the great and mysterious ruler in the sky.

So if (and when) a pope does something questionable, it can always be put down to the will of God. And, of course, who are we to question the divine will. God does, as we all know, move in mysterious ways.

I am presently reading a collection of atheist writings dating back to the Ancient Greeks, through people like David Hume and George Elliot. One of the pieces makes the point that whereas in most cases, an audience can give vent to their opinion, during a church sermon, this is simply not the case.

This makes me think that perhaps members of a congregation should be able to hold up simple cards with a score from 1-5 written on them, in order for the orator to realise how much his flock has enjoyed or deplored the sermon they’ve just had to sit through.

Likewise, as the Coptic church uses the blindfolded child to represent the will of God, perhaps a congregation can vote on church matters by using a lottery machine, controlled by a baby.

Back at Radio 4…the church chat tends to just sway in and out of my semi-conscious brain and, to be fair, I could take it or leave it. However, following the (always religious) thought for the day, the Sunday service begins. Ignoring the twaddle, the choir is always lovely to listen to.

Perhaps that could be the best thing for religion. Get rid of the twaddle and replace it with bigger and better choirs.