Of course, unless you’re more of a literalist.

Yet Martin Wainwright, the author, taps away at his copy, teasing out the blindingly obvious.  He quotes his Oxford source, Sir Colin Humphreys. “Many biblical scholars say that … you can’t trust the gospels at all.” It would be  distressing reading for a Christian, if it weren’t that Colin’s speciality is in Gallium Nitride, Electron Microscopy and Aerospace, not historical criticism, a complex literary science of its own accord. He’s wrong, and worse, he misrepresents scholarship.

Most scholars will tell you that truth is not what you read in the gospels. What you get are stories with the richness and diversity of any Booker-winning novel. Narratives in the Hellenistic era weren’t written as textbooks are today. They elaborate on events, they re-order them, twist, even invent them to produce a tale that we would in today’s terms find unpalatable. We read the accounts as literal when more likely they lean far more on secondary sources of wisdom or metaphor than we realise. The authors took liberties with facts. Jesus’ sermon on the mount is a good example, where there is a strong argument that Matthew summarised years of Jesus’ teaching into one flowing narrative. It’s not falsehood since he still is aiming to faithfully represent the Jesus he knew so well, but it does make for an easier read.

Wainwright may be blamed for sexing his article a tad, but he can’t (to his credit) pick up the award for attention grabbing.

Elsewhere in the media James Frey publishes a book on Good Friday about a drug-taking messiah, making his second coming, and an artist has had his crucifix in urine destroyed by protesters.

In the article Grayling is talking about his new book titled simply “the Good Book,” in which he has reworked a number of secular classical texts into a book to rival the bible. It is a concept I am not yet convinced about, as no distinction existed between secular and religious texts in the pre-modern world, and so even to a secular audience it seems a questionable distinction. Why exclude such a vast amount of material dealing with secular concerns just because it is found in a religious text? Why, for example, exclude a saying such as “love thy neighbour as thyself?” We need to be reminded that prior to modernity pretty much everyone had some form of religious belief.

But what really grabbed my attention is some of the questionable arguments made in the article by Grayling. For example:

“The reason why it’s become a big issue [the atheist campaign against faith] is that religions have turned the volume up, because they’re on the back foot. The hold of religion is weakening, definitely, and diminishing in numbers. The reason why there’s such a furore about it is that the cornered animal, the loser, starts making a big noise.”

I have no idea what the “big noise” is that Grayling is referring to. The hold of religious belief in much of the world is as strong as ever, and any “furore” that there may be seems to have developed in the wake of books attacking religion by Dawkins, Hitchens etc. Some argue instead that it is atheism that is in a corner, and that these books were published because atheism is failing to take a hold the way many proponents expected.

“how can you be a militant atheist? How can you be militant non-stamp collector? This is really what it comes down to. You just don’t collect stamps. So how can you be a fundamentalist non-stamp collector? It’s like sleeping furiously. It’s just wrong.”

The concept of a “militant” non-stamp collector is indeed a bizarre concept. But surely that is because it is hard to imagine someone attacking stamp collecting with the ferocity and certitude with which someone like Dawkins attacks theism.

But one thing I am continually confronted with here is the extreme contrast between the haves and the have nots. On my journey to work I used to walk down Camberwell Grove, a beautiful tree-lined street where house prices exceed £1,000,000 – before catching a bus that goes through Walworth, one of the poorest areas in London. Here lies the soon-to-be-demolished Heygate estate,  a massive monument to failed 1970′s social housing schemes.

London is one of the wealthiest cities in Europe. The average city wage is now approaching £60,000, and many bankers and other professionals can expect to earn in excess of £100,000. At the same time London also has the one of the highest rates of poverty in Europe. According to Government statistics 2 out of 5 children in London live in poverty. This is a shocking figure, and certainly not one I expected to find here in England.

The reasons for poverty can be complex, and I don’t want to trivialise this, but in many cases I believe it is simply because people are not earning enough. In London someone could be responsible with their money, have a full time job, and work hard to support their family, and yet this might still not be enough to escape poverty. The minimum wage in the UK is £5.80 an hour, or about £12,000, which in a city like London does little to support a family. Take the price of a house for example. According to one report, buying an average house in London requires a salary of £93,000. Owning a house has therefore become an unobtainable dream for many, and vast numbers in London are now dependant on social housing.

There is, of course, the ‘London Wage’, a recommended minimum wage for people living in London, which is intended to take into account the higher costs of living in London. This is currently set at £7.80, but because it has no legal status it can be easily ignored by employers.

There is no quick-fix solution for poverty in London, but I certainly think that progressively raising the minimum wage, particularly during times of economic success, can play an key role.

So long as you’re a conservative Christian.

The Guardian has a roaring comments section where both sides have clashed in middle-class rhetoric.  You can post too, just remember an idiot with a keyboard is still an idiot. I’m one, and frankly most likely you are too.

All beliefs are syncretistic – they borrow from cultures, are reinterpreted constantly, grow, and morph into something new and fresh.  If you can’t spot that then you might as well carry on reading the Daily Mail.  It may shock some to realise that the Christian traditions have undergone so much transformation that it’s a far removed thing from its conception in the Middle East.  Those who yearn back to those cushy days are the conservatives that celebrate the liberals of yesteryear.  Frankly I’m pretty happy that I don’t live in an ultra-conservative, violent, and socially stratified Hellenistic culture.  Rod Thomas disagrees, but his argument is based on maintaining his ideology of paternal culture with submissive females.  He believes that this is the right order of things, and what his god had always intended.  He is wrong, and fails to understand the historical hatchet job he is making in his argument. As a result Rod is moving his religion toward a direction it never intended to be heading.

A stretch too far?  Early Christians gained a reputation for introducing concepts of egalitarianism.  From the cultural position they were placed within they stunned their neighbours by allowing cultures to be treated on equal terms, to do away with judging people based on disability, wealth, or gender.  They gained a reputation for not only giving money for their poor, but those not a part of their following.  The early Christian church was revolutionary, counter-cultural, and sent shockwaves through societies.

Not understanding Hellenistic culture means missing the radicalism in most of the early Christian writings. Jesus with the women at the well would be like Dr Williams visiting Stringfellows today.  The gospel writers place women in the centre of the resurrection scene.  Paul gives readers a slap in the face by including women as figures of authority. The Christian’s bible is not a timeless instruction book but a narrative of stories in different cultures through thousands of years.

With the best of historical and textual criticism the only conclusion that really weighs up is that the Christian God doesn’t care if you have a penis or a vagina.

Women have had it rough in ancient times.  The Hellenistic world was, broadly speaking, prejudice against women. Women in second temple Jewish culture were second class citizens, confined to matters of the home. They were not allowed to be witnesses in court, or participate in religious duties, which is essentially, pretty much most activities of the day, since the divides between social and spiritual were not yet brought about.  An ancient prayer decries “Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, who has not made me a woman.”  Furthermore, such was the unequal treatment, that historians believe women had shorter life-spans from men, and suffered from malnutrition.

Historically speaking the two founders of Christendom Jesus of Nazareth and Paul of Tarsus had remarkably progressive views on gender equality. Jesus broke convention numerous times according to the synoptic authors. Their accounts show scandalous encounters with women, exasabated by his standing as a teacher of Jewish covenant.  Given the scandal that was attributed to him it is surprising these accounts were even included in the Gospels. Culturally speaking Jesus should not have approached the Samaritan woman by the well (perceived as a sexual advance), or had the woman suffering from bleeding touch him (she was ritually impure).  Jesus should not have allowed the unnamed ‘sinful’ women (presumably a prostitute or unfaithful wife) wash his feet in the Pharisee’s house. Moreover Jesus’ followers included women, several of whom were in close relationship with Jesus.  Nikos Kazantzakis’ novel depicting Jesus marrying Mary Magdalene may have ruffled religious feathers with its interpretation of the historical Jesus, but it strikes close to the heart because it attempts to posit a reason behind Jesus’ historically unprecedented interactions with women.

Paul of Tarsus goes further in bringing reform to gender equality by asserting that power relationships should not exist between ethnic, social and gender grounds.  Consequently Paul had to manage communities of liberated women, free for the first time to have equal status to men. The elation, the freedom it must have felt not to be bound by the cultural structures that kept them subservient. Was it any wonder that women consequently cut their hair, dressed like men, became loud and animated in meetings? These were the birth-pangs of a reformed, and liberated culture, which caused no end of difficulties in integrating with surrounding societies.

Paul’s letters demonstrate a pastor’s balance of encouraging women in this new freedom, While simultaneously aware of the consequences of his cultural disturbance he was inflicting. It was Paul who broke convention by occasionally reversing formal greetings to name the woman first (Priscilla and Aquila), and having a high number of women workers in early Christianity.  Most controversially Paul even names Junia as earning one of the highest roles in early Christianity, that of an apostle.

Not only did the founders of Christianity rail against the cultures that subjugated women, through their actions and teaching they formed new structures that equalised women’s status in society, gave them rights to participate in teaching, pasturing, mentoring, community formation and governance.

Against this rich backdrop of egalitarianism the rakings of policy makers in the Church of England must appear backward. If the spirit of Christ lives on it would be rolling in its… Well, you know.

We base all of our decisions on beliefs. Our beliefs influence what we buy, where we live, who we marry, and so on. Obviously, we want our beliefs to correspond to reality and give us a cohesive world view, and the same goes for our religious beliefs. In fact if our religious faith is to have any impact on our lives, it is because we genuinely do believe certain things about it.

Determining exactly what to believe, however, is not the ultimate goal of religion. As the Christian author, Rob Bell, writes in his book Velvet Elvis: “Beliefs are a great servant, but a terrible master.” Religious beliefs are not important for their own sake, but like other beliefs, they are important because they inform and shape our behaviour. Religious beliefs can help us to make sense of the world, give what we do greater meaning and purpose, and can even be liberating.

But, for many religious people it seems that beliefs are not very liberating at all. They constrain people to ideas that do not make very good sense of things. They may even contradict other things we know deep down to be true. They can make choices confusing, and perhaps even lead us to inaction. Rob Bell describes this type of religion as ‘Brickianity.’ Bricks are rigid and inflexible, and bricks create walls. If one brick is removed then the whole wall can crumble. So if our beliefs are like bricks we end up spending alot of time protecting our wall, and we can become afraid of those who disagree with us. This has the unfortunate effect of keeping other people and different ideas out.

So how do we have positive religious beliefs rather than detrimental ones? Much, I believe, comes down to our attitude to our beliefs. A good start is realising that beliefs do not need to be rigidly held, and that they are not the ultimate goal of our faith. This allows us the freedom to question our beliefs, and questioning is essential. In my experience we often grow the most as people when we are questioning our most deeply held assumptions.

Should a smack as part of good parental correction be a criminal offence in New Zealand?

Over 85% of those who voted ticked ‘no’.

Unfortunately the question was so badly worded that I believe it was a pointless exercise, and it will almost certainly have no impact on the laws in New Zealand. Both the Prime Minister and the leader of the opposition in NZ stated that they had no intention of voting in the referendum, with the Prime Minister, John Key, even calling the question “ridiculous.”

Why?

Firstly, the question presupposed that smacking is good parenting, which is, at least, debatable. I realise this is a contentious issue, but the broad consensus amongst psychiatrists and paediatricians is that there are better ways to discipline children, and that smacking can, in some cases, be damaging. Not to mention that a University of Otago study found that over 80% of child abuse begins with physical discipline.

Secondly, the question seemed to imply that answering ‘yes’ – a smack as part of good parental correction should be a criminal offence – means that good parents should be prosecuted, but obviously no one thinks that. The law has been in place for well over a year, and there have been no examples of good parents being prosecuted for giving a smack to their child. Recently the Human Rights Commission released their legal opinion, stating that the new Child discipline law does not make caring parents criminals.

Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, the referendum did not actually address the point of the law change. Even in recent history the legal defence of ‘reasonable force’ has been used as a defence in court for parents beating their children with belts, hose pipes and pieces of wood. The primary purpose of the law change was to protect children against abuse by removing this defence, and cases of minor smacking are accordingly not being prosecuted. In fact I think it is possible to support the law change completely, and yet still answer ‘no’ to the referendum – making any result meaningless.

The law change was a good one. Itwas supported by all major professional groups related to child welfare, including the NZ Psychological Society, the NZ Paediatrics Society, the Human Rights Commission, Barnardos, Save the Children, Plunket, Unicef, the Parents Centre, Every Child Counts, the Children’s Commission, and the Families Commission. Parliament in NZ passed the amendment by 113 votes to 8, with both major parties supporting it in its final form.

I appreciate that how we discipline children is a sensitive issue, and I do not see myself as an expert on the matter. But I do think that the issue is very misunderstood, and the referendum question is a good illustration of this. So far Key is sticking to what he believes is right, and is resisting calls for a law change. Unfortunately the referendum process was an expensive one, and it will probably achieve nothing more than undermining confidence in the Government and in the democratic process.

I am found lost in a slumber when Sheldon and Kayla move to squeeze past as I shuffle to make room for them in my seat. The assumption: they are both going to the office for some ‘small business’ – a Tanzanian euphemism for number ones.

A small business merger. A sort of husband/wife thing. This leads me to consider other husband/wife things that I do not have and, well, how at this window in time I would quite like it.

For my mind, a logical progression.

The raspy intercom requests the presence of a medical practitioner. Of which I am not.

And Sheldon and Kayla seem to be taking a fair time forming a trade deal with the porcelain industry.

After some time, I glance back to see Sheldon kneeling in the rear cabin. Walking back I notice Kayla perched low on a make-shift seat, shrouded in burgundy blanket and both hands clutching a plastic cup of water.

“What’s happening?” I shakily inquire.

“Kayla fainted in her seat,” he replies, a little taken a back that I did not notice anything.

“I’m sorry, I was sleeping at the time.”

“We don’t know what’s going on,” he says.

And in the stumble back to my seat, self doubt throws me around. The conviction rises that my thoughts were so easily fixed on my own need not at all considering those of my dearest friends. And that now, still strapped in seat 20A, I wrestle for my response, my help, my light in this mist.

Do they desire my presence or the space of my absence?

“Just pray,” Sheldon asks.

I’m not a very good pray-er – not that anyone is – so I write, praying it acts as veiled prayer.

A doctor awaits us in Doha, I’m told. An english speaking one, I secretly hope. So now, we chase the cause of this sickness, all the while Kayla internally assesses her own fear and self doubt.

And we all learn to relinquish control.

Written on a flight from Dar Es Salaam to Doha, 25 June 2009.

And on my return, what does it look like to engage with the option of these things – and others, like ice cream, chips and quick curries – when my friends elsewhere, like Max and Maggie and Mama Helen, do not have such the luxury? Can I justify the three dollars, six dollars, twelve dollars? I surely have enough words and withdrawals for a good argument.

Of equal concern is that this Zanzibar Resort – for that, regardless of our well-bargained price, is what it is – is only inhabited by white people.

Wazungu.

White people means rich people. Which is why the angry woman and the angry man at the local lunch bar earlier today are justified in their frustration and request compensation for our presence.

Even though I may wrestle against seeing a poor black man to seeing only a poor man, I am still white in their eyes. I may not be American, but I still look like one. And let’s state these affairs for what they are: We’d all rather be mistaken for Americans than become the poor black man and move here.

Sure, we would all claim to be happy born poor and black and African, but to overtly choose these things is a very different path.

As long as we have the choice of their world or ours, we will always choose ours. Even if you decide to enter their world, like many have done for varied and noble reasons, you still enter as a shard of ours.

You will always want coffee, chocolate and bacon.

And you will always hold near the truth that you can go home.

My colour will always be a ticket out of what ever uncomfortable world I find myself in. A ticket back to the illusion of safety, security and comfort. I may come to hold not a single asset, but wealth is in the pigment of my skin. And at present this is an insurmountable mountain on the ranges of inequality.

It may not be overt, especially when you have an African neighbour or frequent the Chinese-run bakery, but this racism of wealth is implicit. Like we become shards of wealth in their world, they are splinters of poverty in ours. Some send their money home. We spend it on ourselves. They are vying for a slice of the wealth pie. We choose the pies flavour, ingredients and how it’s cooked.

So, white brothers and sisters, do what you can and complain less. You have more than you know. You have luxury of choice. You are white.

Written on Jambiani Beach, Zanzibar, 23 June 2009.