Faith and reason is a fascinating column.
I enjoy Ian Harris's out-on-the-edge approach to issues that helps us to think further about the substance of belief.
It also fits with our world outside the cloisters.
The recent response by Lyndon Weggery (ODT, 22.4.16) arguing about the necessity of belief before our souls can live on into eternity is, I believe, only part of the "truth'', if indeed it is the truth at all, as we struggle to find it, even if we are "confessing'' Christians.
My impression is that the story of Jesus of Nazareth has become overcomplicated and, sadly, belief in the formulations coming out of Easter have become purely self-interest in personal survival for many Christians ... a sort of "I'm OK, you're not OK'' type of thinking.
How is it that I can say something so potentially outrageous?
It comes from my experiences of life itself in all its richness and, indeed, struggle at times.
The first is looking after a United Church rural hospital, in the 1970s in PNG, two hours' flying time from Port Moresby on the rugged south coast of the Central province with no roads.
The generator had packed a sad and in the middle of the night a woman was admitted in obstructed labour.
A Caesarean section was the only way to cope with this situation ... but no electricity, kerosene lanterns and an ether anaesthetic were not a good mix.
Torches were the only way to see safely in theatre.
The local villagers were the walking blood bank.
There was much rejoicing when we eventually delivered the child and the mother survived.
The second was in Eastern Southland, where some believe the Bible was written.
One morning I received a call up the road towards Riversdale.
It took a while to translate the message as in that part of the world everyone rolls their R's!
When I finally arrived at an isolated farm house with the old south wind moaning in the macrocarpas, I found myself presiding over an exorcism.
It was like being back in the times of The Crucible in the southern states of America!
I explained that the young woman had no bad spirit or demon, she was indeed very unwell and she needed our prayers but also needed to be in hospital.
Lucifer was nowhere in sight.
The third was climbing in the Antarctic.
Ed Hillary was our leader.
It was a privilege to get to know this complex man and there was no doubt that old-time religion under some duress in his younger days had really put him off it for life.
The guys on the trip had a great love of one of the harshest environments on earth, had huge respect for it, and were in awe of it, but were in touch enough to know how to survive whatever it could throw at us.
My companions didn't understand or have much time for complicated theology.
One day nearer the end of the trip, when Norman Hardie, of Kanchenjunga fame, and I had climbed to a survey point, Norman broke into song, singing Mendelssohn's Elijah.
I have a picture of a Dunedin GP, Dr Henry McKinlay, working in the Kamput refugee camp on the Kampuchean border some years ago.
I visited him and was blown away by the commitment of this quiet, unassuming man working with the orphans boys of war.
As he introduced me to his staff and we talked, I could hear the guns going off in the hills ... At church recently one of our members, who is intellectually challenged, helped with the Eucharist.
It was a powerful moment as he held the bread and wine out to all of us.
He wouldn't know what the word "dispensation'' meant and it didn't matter.
These pictures are I think a metaphor of what the Christian faith should be all about.
I believe I speak for many who find formulae and creeds as an entrance to belief difficult to negotiate.
I don't know all the answers but this I do know, that the Christian faith for me is not one of having the I's dotted and the T's crossed but one of trust and being prepared to take risks and join the Nazarene for conversation and breakfast on the shores of Lake Galilee.
- Peter Strang is a retired GP and mountaineer and helps with chaplaincy at Dunedin Hospital.
