Theology by Terry Pratchett

I love the Terry Pratchett books. I was first introduced to them by my husband and his family, and thoroughly enjoy the plot, characterisations and generally vivid and page-turning narratives. But one of the things I like the most about Pratchett is that he often makes me think.

This week the real world and Pratchett intersected with some surprising results.

I heard of an incident with a local Christian charity, who had been preparing toiletry bags for distribution at a local hospital. An entire car-load of toiletry bags was delivered with much effort on the part of many volunteers to the hospital's chaplaincy department for distribution, and the chaplaincy rang up the charity to complain ... because they had labeled the bags, "With love from [insert charity branch name here]" This apparently has the potential to cause great offense to the persons in the hospital receiving this charity - they cannot deliver anything which carries the faintest whiff of being connected with Christianity, or apparently the chaplaincy may not have leave from the hospital trustees to retain their position. Or so I was told.

The same night I heard of this, I read the following:

"This Om ... anyone seen him?"

"It is said three thousand people witnessed his manifestation at the Great Temple when he made the Covenant with the prophet Brutha and saved him from death by torture on the iron turtle--"

"But I bet that now they're arguing about what they actually saw, eh?"

"Well, indeed, yes, there are many opinions--"

"Right. Right. That's people for you. Now if I'd seen him, really there, really alive, it'd be in me like a fever. If I thought there was some god who really did care two hoots about people, who watched 'em like a father and cared for 'em like a mother ... well, you wouldn't catch me sayin' things like "There are two sides to every question," and "We must respect other people's beliefs." You wouldn't find me just being gen'rally nice in the hope that it'd all turn out right in the end, not if that flame was burning in me like an unforgivin' sword. And I did say burnin', Mister Oats, 'cos that's what it'd be. You say that you people don't burn folk and sacrifice people any more, but that's what true faith would mean, y'see? Sacrificin' your own life, one day at a time, to the flame, declarin' the truth of it, workin' for it, breathin' the soul of it. That's religion. Anything else is just ... is just bein' nice. And a way of keepin' in touch with the neighbours.'

She relaxed slightly, and went on in a quieter voice: "Anyway, that's what I'd be, if I really believed. And I don't think that's fashionable right now, 'cos it seems that if you sees evil now you have to wring your hands and say, "Oh deary me, we must debate this." That's my two penn'orth, Mister Oats. You be happy to let things lie. Don't chase faith, 'cos you'll never catch it." She added, almost as an aside, "But, perhaps, you can live faithfully."

Terry Pratchett, Carpe Jugulum

Hmmm.