You’d think that being a Christian, the third most important day on my calendar would be Shrove Tuesday.

Or pancake day. Fortunately my Penguin English Dictionary (which I won as part of a proof-reading competition) tells me that shrove is the past tense of shrive. Clear? Ok, it has something to do with confession and absolution, neither of which I do in the ‘religious’ sense. Of course, as you are aware, there is plenty I do need to confess, but I do it in the old-fashioned protestant way of talking to God, or a friend.

Why, in movies, are Christians always depicted as theologically ignorant, wracked by guilt, joyless legalists? They sit hunched in confessionals, or drool wild-eyed outside death-row on picket lines. They frown on anything and everything, and are far more concerned with how people look than who they are.

There is a massive contingent of people supporting Bush as president because he is a Christian. Whether those people are politically informed, I don’t know, but I personally wouldn’t support someone merely because they profess the same religion as me. Likewise, those detractors who scoff at the ‘Christian’ fraternity in US leadership, their well-publicised prayer-meetings, and their ‘God-is-on-our-side’mentality could also miss some of the larger picture.

God does not choose sides. Remember, He loved the whole world? That was first, even before the part that ‘He sent His one and only son, so that whoever believes in Him will not perish, but have eternal life…’

When I was considering becoming a Christian I worried that I would have to change my style of dressing. Now I realise that that is a fairly small issue in the greater scheme of things. I am quietly opposed to robotic and unquestioning ‘faith’, that is based more on keeping up with the Joneses. By all means, if you feel that dressing a particular way will increase your closeness to God, then do it, but don’t do it because people won’t accept you if you don’t.

I am keen on reformed theology, which is based on an unshakeable belief in the Bible as the divinely inspired word of God. I worry when Liberal theologians adapt verses according to cultural norms, or dismiss chunks of scripture as being culturally irrelevant.

Does God care if I shave my head? Sure, if I get all arrogant about it, but mostly He cares more about the stuff going on inside me. Not even just my head, but my heart. I do try not to be too rebellious, and I often stumble over the pride and self-centredness that probably affects you too, but my main aim is to please Him.

I will try not to judge you. I will occasionally eat pancakes, (although rarely as part of a religious ritual) and I daily try to get as close to Him, and stay as close to Him, as I can. It’s partly my choice, but only because He did what He did for me first.

If, theoretically, He asked me to wear an obvious toupe, I guess I would have to, but for the moment, He looks down on me, and sees His reflection in my shiny pate. Better that than I wear some ghastly ‘Christian’ disguise.

The reason I am telling you this, is so that you will understand. God motivates me. I do get daft and go off on wild silly tangents, but without Him I would just be silly. Terminally silly. If I were to die tomorrow, I know where my hope lies. Forget angels and harps. To me, the reality of heaven is my goal. Weird? I guess so, but I am secure in that hope. If you are not a Christian, then it seems as though my security is based on nothing, but if you pause. Think. Pray. You know I’m not lying.

I’m not out to insult you if you are jewish/muslim/areligious, but just trying to fill in the gaps. I can’t just make myself out to be a half-person, funny and vacuous. Sermon over.

Funny stuff to follow.