As the cardinals enter into the conclave to elect the 267th pope, Simcha Fisher shares her own light-hearted take on her prayers for their time together.
Come Holy Ghost, Creator Blest,
And in our hearts take up Thy rest;
Come with Thy grace and heav’nly aid,
To fill the hearts which Thou hast made,
To fill the hearts which Thou hast made.
[DEEP BREATH. MAKE SURE DOOR IS LOCKED AND CARDINALS CAN’T HEAR. DOUBLE CHECK THE DOOR. TURN ON WHITE NOISE MACHINE.]
O Comforter. You know the deal
No man is worthy to wear that seal.
Bishop of Rome, Vicar of Christ
That’s a big deal, any way it’s sliced.
That’s a big deal, any way it’s sliced.
O Comforter, to Thee we cry,
We need a pope who is just the right guy.
One who is wise, and not insane,
And always naps when he’s on a plane
And always naps when he’s on a plane.
Come Holy Ghost. We’ve been so lucky
John Paul was great and Ben 16 was ducky
Francis’ church—well, we will see.
Lux perpétua lúceat ei
Lux perpétua lúceat ei
Come Holy Ghost. We are a mess
Come to the conclave and do-oo your best.
Trads crave red shoes; libs love rainbows.
I want a pope who will squash Marko.
I want a pope who will squash Marko.
Lord who cannot be bribed or scammed
Not even with an Iberian ham
See how Your church fails without You
At least we booted old Becciu.
At least we booted old Becciu.
Come Holy Ghost. Guide those red hats.
Don’t let them act like political rats
When there’s white smoke, we’ll say a prayer
For the new man filling Peter’s chair
For the new man filling Peter’s chair.
Praise be to Thee Father and Son,
And Holy Spirit Three in one;
From your great love, cut us a slice.
P Pizzaballa would be nice.
P Pizzaballa would be nice.