Let us pray for the new father confessors

A LOT of the duties of good, old fashioned priests have been undertaken, so to speak, by more earthly curators of souls. Like filling stations.

Old Luther (who knew a thing or two about putting a tiger in your tank) would turn in his grave if he knew that you can now buy your indulgences direct from Emo or Statoil, with Mass cards now two-a-penny and pre-signed by some absentee prelate in Nigeria or Liberia. It’s the new globalisation of spiritual commerce between the living and the dead.

And it spares you having actually to say a prayer for the poor souls in purgatory. Isn’t it the least we can do to show we care?

Organisations like the BBC and RTÉ have taken over the mantle of Father Confessor from a poor, gullible congregation, who must now listen to Pilger and Fisk broadcast from the more amenable pulpits of the airwaves.

No wonder RTÉ swallowed up another 50% increase in licence fee, while still managing to lose money.

How much does it take to keep Creedon in gossip titbits, or Derek Davis in pork chops?

Yes, these boyos are the new, splendid dignitaries of modern Ireland. More’s the pity that they never heard of the seal of the confession. A shortage of priests? No, just a deficit of wit.

Richard Dowling,

Coote Street,

Mountrath,

Co Laois