February 2 A woman in her late seventies came to see me to discuss her son. He''d recently been released from prison for viewing obscene online images of children. Such things are no longer referred to as "child pornography"-- a horribly flippant phrase -- because pornography implies consent. It''s one of the things you learn when working with people in prison and with the police. She didn''t want to discuss too many details, but I knew from other offenders that his incarceration it was likely the penalty for more than having looked at a single picture. Prison sentences are more often given as a punishment for distribution or sharing of these appalling things or viewing a large amount of such material. The actual manufacture of child abuse images is, of course, even more hideous and serious but simply sending pictures can be classified as manufacture, even if the accused didn''t actually take the photo. The son had no interest in seeing me, but his mother was in an awful state.
The man''s release conditions demanded regular counselling, probation, being a specified distance from schools or wherever young people gathered, and a strong recommendation that he not use the internet (which is almost impossible to enforce and frequently ignored). He was also, she said, taking an antidepressant that helped to reduce his libido. Sometimes this does help, but the offender has to be willing to change and that''s not always the case. But even when there''s a desire to break the morbid and tragic cycle, there are instances where nothing works. This poor woman cried, she screamed, she swore. All these responses are inevitable and far from unwelcome as part of the catharsis. I''ve seen them many times and if they help someone cope, then they work. I listened, which is often the best way to respond and usually what the person wants.
Never pretend you have all or even any of the answers. We worked out a practical way of dealing with some of her feelings as well as how to approach her son when he seemed unreasonable, and we also worked on her not blaming herself for what had happened. It genuinely wasn''t her fault, and she had to learn to value who she was. She''d come to see me as a priest, so we discussed how she, as a Christian, should move forward. We can''t believe in God, can''t genuinely love God, I said, unless we believe in and love ourselves. That doesn''t mean self-regard, pomposity, or pride, but coming to terms with the preciousness of the broken and the sparkle of the needy. We''re flawed, we get it wrong, we can be difficult to like, but until we come to respect ourselves and see our reflection in the divine, we can never fully love others. That, and not some arcane philosophical puzzle, is the foundation of belief.
She listened with an intensity I seldom see. Then we prayed. If you think this is perfunctory then you''ve never really prayed. We continue to meet, to talk, and to pray. She thanks me a lot, which I''m supposed to say isn''t what I want to hear but that''s rubbish. It''s not what the process is for but I''m no saint, and praise and thanks are as significant to me as criticism and condemnation. We can''t expunge our human nature when we''re ordained, and I worry about those who think they can or that they have. That notion of a priest being beyond flesh and blood and someone who can do no wrong has led to all sorts of problems, as we know too well.
On one occasion after she''d thanked me and said some lovely things, I thought that I needed to burst her bubble, so I asked her if she knew the definition of an Anglican priest. She said she didn''t. I told her a story. There was an old-fashioned hairdresser in the middle of the city. One day, a Roman Catholic priest came in for a haircut. Afterwards, when he went to pay, the barber said, "No charge. I''m not Catholic, not religious, but I admire what you do. It''s my gift.
" The priest thanked him, blessed him, and left. The next morning when the barber went to open the store, he found a bottle of Irish Whiskey waiting for him. A month later a rabbi came in for a haircut. Afterwards he went to pay. "No charge, rabbi," said the barber. "I''m not Jewish, not religious, but admire your people so much. My little gift for you." The rabbi thanked him profusely.
The next morning when the barber went to open the stop there was a large bag of freshly baked bagels waiting for him. Next month an Anglican priest came in. After the haircut he went to pay. "No, vicar," said the barber. "I''m not Anglican, not a Christian really, but I know the good work you do. Please, no charge." The priest thanked him from the bottom of his heart. The next morning when the barber went to open the shop, there was a long line of Anglican clergy at the door.
That, I said, was the definition of an Anglican priest. It was the first time I''d seen her laugh in three months. - - - March 7 Christian believers today come from all over the world and while there are problems of declining congregations in North America and western Europe, that''s not an issue in Asia and Africa. The church in Ethiopia, for example, is extremely strong, and that country was Christian long before most of Europe. The Ethiopian church is Eastern Orthodox, and many Orthodox believers follow a different calendar from the Western one and celebrate Easter a little later. I discussed this with a young man from Ethiopia who I visit -- he''d seen me on television once and emailed me to ask if we could meet occasionally to discuss the Bible. He''s brilliant and bright but his accent is still quite pronounced, which has made it difficult for him to find work. We came to the end of our meeting today, said a little prayer together, and he buttoned up his coat so as to face the cold weather.
Suddenly he said, "I don''t want to live." I was shocked, as this seem to come from nowhere. I asked him why he felt this way, insisted that he would find a job eventually, and would he like me to cancel my next meeting so that we could spend more time talking? Could I call his family, or even drive him to the hospital? I said that he must know that life is worth living and that there were so many things that gave him joy and happiness. I suppose I came on a bit strong, but I was genuinely worried about him. He stared at me, then in his forceful accent said, "What you talk about? I said I don''t want to leave. Are you deaf! I don''t want to leave; it''s bloody raining out there!" I drove him home. - - - March 13 At its best, the church organises goodness and directs it into places where it''s most needed. That''s not always the image that those outside of the church see and believe in, and when the media mentions Christianity, there''s usually a scandal or an outrage involved.
This week there''s been another attempt in the U.S. to display the Ten Commandments in a public place, and that''s produced an anti-Christian backlash. The first amendment to the U.S. Constitution states that "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof," so these things usually fail, and then the instigators can declare themselves martyrs. The commandments given to Moses forbid adultery of course, yet the political hero of those who insist on pushing this agenda is Donald Trump, who is a repeat offender and has shown no contrition, not to mention his full bag of other sins and failings. Then there''s the commandment not to murder, when support for placing these posters comes from some of the most zealous opponents of gun control in North America.
The same people who, after every gun massacre, tell anyone who''ll listen that they''re praying to God for the victims. If that''s not taking the Lord''s name in vain -- another commandment -- I don''t know what is. But the issue runs deeper than mere hypocrisy. The Ten Commandments are vital to Christian thought as well as to the other monotheistic faiths, but the most important teaching of Christ is that we love one another. Perhaps we should campaign to have the Beatitudes on display in schools, telling us that the poor in spirit, the meek, the merciful, the peacemakers, the pure in heart, and those who are insulted and persecuted for the sake of righteousness are all blessed. But perish the thought, because those teachings delivered by Jesus during the Sermon on the Mount sound so radical. At any rate, we don''t need any of this; we need witness and action. Christianity is best represented by people living as followers of Jesus, helping those in need and in pain, evincing goodness and kindness, and sacrificing for the sake of others.
In political terms that could be by improving public education, giving women reproductive choice and heavily subsidised daycare, fighting poverty, and spending money on housing and health rather than on tanks and torpedoes. It is least represented by loud, aggressive fundamentalists drowning in legalism and paranoia who somehow think that a few lines on a classroom wall will solve all of our problems. Sometimes I wonder if they even believe that themselves.