Breaking news… just in time for Christmas, the pope has announced a sweeping policy change. Only thing is… well… it should have happened years ago. Read on for details.
‘Tis the night before Christmas, and up in the Vatican
The holy father’s Christmas gift will make your kids safe again.
1.2 billion Catholics await his epistle;
He dons his fine robes, gives his cardinals a whistle,
Steps up to the pulpit and blesses the flock.
“I have something to say. You might think it’s a crock,
“But remember that stuff we just can’t put behind us?
About priests and their thousands of victims among us?
“We’ve hidden our findings for victims’ protection,
And yet more important, for priests’ reputations.
“But God himself has now spoken. He gave me the word
Pontifical secrets are wrong and absurd.
“These few decades’ abuse have hurt us, we’ve seen it,
But now there’s transparency. This time we mean it.
“Outta time, let’s move on now. See, here’s bread and wine.
Happy Christmas my children! Looks like it’s bedtime.”
He kisses his gospel, he puts down the book,
Lifts his hand in a blessing for the offering he took
The grand padre walks out while his supplicants pray
This great revelation was a gift Christmas Day.
But… but Mister Pope…
A year ago last August, your proclamation was ready
Raping kids is a bad thing. Didn’t we know that already?
Then this year, in May, you told all your bishops
To call cops on all suspects …so, um, you’re saying they didn’t?
And on the ground in our country, seventeen hundred accused priests
Live and work around children who don’t know their past.
Now the bishop of Buffalo has panicked and retired
He covered up for abusers, and he’s stuck in the mire
And this week, from Mexico, we hear Legion of Christ founder,
The late Marcial Maciel, abused sixty or more minors.
Now, on Christmas, you tell us, “there’s more stuff we’ve hidden.”
How can we still believe you? Why go on forgiving?
Mister Pope, you don’t get it. As one victim sobbed,
To come forward with this terror, is like you’re up against God.
Power corrupts, doesn’t it? On this Christmas night,
After two thousand years, you still can’t get it right.