As this newspaper has pointed out, many difficult theological and canonical questions have been raised by the ordination of Sinead O'Connor as a priest, the most important being whether or not she will be appointing a housekeeper.
That question is now answered: I am delighted to announce that I have secured the job.
Already, a lot of jealousy has surrounded my appointment as the first male Tridentine housekeeper. People are saying that because I donated £150,000 to Mother Bernadette Mary's ministry I effectively "bought" the job.
Let me just point out that for a journalist on a national daily, £150,000 is a mere pittance. I have made ridiculous amounts of money in my career and I offered the small lump sum without any conditions.
Mother Bernadette Mary would not have appointed me as her housekeeper for £3 million. Perhaps £5 million, but certainly not £3 million.
Other detractors, the usual media suspects, are pointing out that I have no experience as a housekeeper. All I can say is that I have examined my conscience for the last five months and it is absolutely squeaky-clean. I have also paid for guidance. I mean prayed. Well both, actually.
And if that's enough for my employer it should be enough for the media. An ability to scrub floors is not the kind of thing Mother Bernadette Mary rates too highly, thank God.
We in the Tridentine housekeeping tradition are cool about that sort of thing. Inner cleanliness is more important to us. And I can tell you already that this pad in Lourdes is one laid-back villa, which is Latin for house. There will be few formalities, just so long as visitors leave their shoes at the door and rinse their own plates.
The question of dispensations has also come up. In short, am I properly authorised to dispense tea? Validity in this context belongs to the sphere of sacramental teaology and affirms that a sacrament, though not executed in accordance with the legal conditions set down by the church, is nonetheless effective as a sacrament: that is, God's intended effect takes place.
In other words, visitors to our Lourdes villa will get the benefit of the Earl Grey no matter who pours it.
As well as the seven holy orders of the Tridentine housekeeping tradition, keeping the house reasonably clean, fending off unwanted callers, preparing meals and so on, Mother Bernadette has given me a few other orders besides: I am to raise the profile of Tridentine housekeeping worldwide, get my name and mugshot in the papers as often as possible and court controversy wherever I can.
Having already taken the holy order of celibacy, I joked with Mother Bernadette that courting controversy would be the only courting allowed, but she didn't laugh. No doubt I will tune in to her sense of humour in time. The really cool thing is that by merely laying lay my hands on even the filthiest surface, I can now bring it up shiny bright by the power of divine cleaning. Our traditional liturgical spirit literally wipes the floor with modern household cleaners.
So, all you old-fashioned believers, why not take a trip on out to Lourdes and drop by? It's going to be open house, or villa aperta, with me and Mother Bernadette. And don't think that just because it's a place of pilgrimage, Lourdes doesn't swing. You wouldn't believe the club scene here. It's the south of France after all.
Have I completely "flipped", then, taking a job like this? I don't think so. I just wanted to kill off this journalist thing that wasn't fulfilling my sense of purpose and mission and self-validation and wanting to help people.
Tridentine housekeeping offered me a chance to make a clean break, and with me, Mother Bernadette Mary, Lemon Quix, New Jif, Domestos, the odd jar of Swarfega and lots of that old-fashioned liturgical spirit, you won't get cleaner.