An alternative prayer for the Primate's inner city visits.

Byline: BRIAN READE 

WELL at least we have penetrated the brilliant brain of Oxford's youngest-ever professor of theology.

At least we now know why the multi-lingual genius, who rattles off books quicker than you write notes for the milkman, settles down every night with his kids to watch The Simpsons.

Because he models his life on Homer's irksome, whiter-than-white, happy-clappy, moustacheod neighbour, Ned "hi-delly-di-delly" Flanders.

The nicest, most harmless, most peace-loving man in the show. Yet the caricature whose Utopian view of the world is permanently ridiculed and smashed to little pieces by Bart, Homer, Moe and every other cynic in Springfield. And judging by his conversations with God, our very own Archbishop Flanders is in for an equally rude-lly-dude-lly awakening, when he leaves his current, cosy existence and takes on the top Anglican job.

Because if he thinks making a few phone calls, putting the toys away and doing the dishes amounts to fulfilling his daily duties, I can't wait until he enters the real world.

However we all have to grow into our job. So let's be Christian and give him a chance.

He is a very brainy man. So here, I believe, is how Rowan Williams will amend his prayer when he gets down on his knees by his bedside after his first day touring our inner cities.Lord, the children have gone with my car, and driven it straight into Dixons.

They've whipped all the phones and rich man's toys there, got stoned and broke into my kitchen.

Now I may not be an old coppers' nark but I can hear them down there jacking up in the dark.

So I'll get on the blower, and

call out the plod,

'cos there's some work a man just can't leave up to God.

Thanks for the job mate.

Yeah. Nice one. I owe

you big time. Honest.