Justin Welby has set out to prove that female bishops aren’t the sole source of trouble in the C of E. Male archbishops are making a telling contribution too.
First he came out in defence of Stephen Fry, who got a bit of criticism for describing God, among other choice epithets, as ‘utterly evil, mean-minded, stupid and utterly monstrous’.
In defending Mr Fry, the prelate took a firm stand on some of the liberal cornerstones of just society, namely freedom of conscience and speech:
“It is… the right of Stephen Fry to say what he said and not to be abused by Christians who are affronted.”
Stoutly spoken, and we should all kneel and give thanks for this pastoral guidance.
Verily I say unto you, if England’s ultimate spiritual authority will not uphold the moral principles of our legality, then who will? Well, one possible answer to this question is, someone with a firmer grasp of elementary logic.
That basic faculty would enable such a chap to see that freedom of speech so cherished by the prelate cuts both ways. Mr Fry’s right to say whatever he pleases about God presupposes his critics’ right to use all the same adjectives to describe Mr Fry.
Or does His Grace think that fundamental liberties should only be enjoyed by strident atheist mediocrities? That only their delicate sensibilities merit protection, while Christians are fair game for vile public rants?
If so, that view isn’t exactly orthodox Christian, but then His Grace is on record as not minding the odd heterodoxy as long as it’s of recent secular provenance. Hence tolerance, which Jesus forgetfully left out of his Sermon on the Mount, now supersedes everything he did mention.
In the Gospel According to Justin, we must display benign tolerance towards everybody, except conservative Christians, and, to quote the equally tolerant Pope Frances, who am I to argue? Specifically, we must regard any shifts in secular fads as binding on church doctrine.
As we now know, every change represents progress. Imbued with this freshly minted truth, we must rejoice how far His Grace has advanced the virtue of tolerance since the time of St Paul.
That offensively intolerant vagabond once wrote to Timothy about two men named Hymenaeus and Alexander, “whom I have delivered unto Satan, that they may learn not to blaspheme”.
If Paul were alive today, he would no doubt deliver Stephen Fry to the same address. But then, so what?
St Paul is no longer the authority on such matters in the Church of England; the jumped-up oil trader is. If he says that Christians don’t have the same rights as that Fry creature, then so be it.
Having given episcopal blessing to blasphemy, His Grace then anathemised tax havens and sanctified the state’s right to impose confiscatory taxes. Jesus, he explained, taught the importance of “paying what is due”.
I’d like to steal a peak into His Grace’s version of Matthew. It must contain a verse in which Jesus says “Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not commit tax evasion: But I say unto you that whosoever committeth avoidance hath committed evasion already in his heart; his is hell fire.”
The hopelessly antiquated version I have within reach has left this verse out. But then His Grace leans not just on scriptural support, but also historical tradition: “There has always been the principle that you pay tax where you earn the money.”
Good to see that the top Anglican prelate is not just a theologian of some attainment, but also a keen student of history. However, he should display more rigour in both disciplines – and especially in adapting them to the practical issues at hand.
Getting back to the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus did answer a provocative question about paying tributes to Caesar by saying “Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s; and unto God the things that are God’s.”
However, it takes a hypocritical Pharisee, reminiscent of the agent provocateur who asked the question in the first place, to interpret that injunction literally, as a carte blanche for the state to extort as much of our income as it wishes.
The theologically challenged prelate ought to learn that Matthew 22:21 isn’t an Inland Revenue guideline on tax policy. Interpreting it as such is sheer vulgarity, unpardonable even in an average Christian, never mind an archbishop.
Christ’s reply was affirming both the existence and the hierarchy of two realms, that of God and that of man. Even though he held up a coin with Caesar’s profile on it, Jesus wasn’t just talking about taxation.
Yes, Caesar, aka the Exchequer, must be paid ‘what is due’. But how much is due? What proportion of our income? Fifty per cent? Seventy-five? A hundred? Jesus didn’t bother himself with such mundane details, and neither should a Christian prelate.
There is no justification, moral, scriptural or historical, for the state to confiscate 50 per cent of our income, which is close to what the middle classes are paying when you add everything up.
If taxes were in the region of 10 to 20 per cent, the tax-haven industry wouldn’t exist. Only a hardened Scrooge would begrudge the state its just due. It’s only when taxation is unjust that people scamper about trying to keep a few pennies out of the state’s grubby hands.
Unlike a tax evasion scheme, a tax haven is a legal way of doing so. It in no way contravenes Christian doctrine, history or basic morality, and by suggesting that it might His Grace only demonstrated his weak understanding of both realms.
One wonders if he was a better oil trader than he is an Archbishop of Canterbury. If so, a career about-face is in order, methinks.