As a nominal member of the Church of Ireland, was I upset by Pope Benedict's Vatican proclamation that I do not belong to a "proper" church? Not really, but then neither was I terribly surprised, writes David Adams.
As something of an aside, I was more annoyed with him for recently trying to meddle in the internal affairs of a liberal democracy. Last month, while Pakistan's religious affairs minister, Mohammed Ijaz ul-Haq, was trying to dictate to Britain who it could or could not bestow honours upon, Pope Benedict was privately lecturing the then prime minister, Tony Blair, on British legislation regarding abortion and rights of adoption for gay couples.
The pope, of course, did not go as far as ul-Haq and mention the possibility of retaliatory suicide bombings but, essentially, they were in the same position. That is, of outsiders attempting to impose their own particular religious beliefs and sensitivities on the internal affairs of another country. Perhaps they needed reminding that Britain is neither a dictatorship nor a theocracy, but a liberal democracy. And, as such, its internal (as opposed to foreign) affairs are exclusively the business of the people who live there.
Doubtless there are British electors who share the views of the pope or ul-Haq, but, novel as it may seem to some, they are entirely free to influence government policy by voting in line with their conscience or, indeed, by standing for election themselves. As for the latest broadside by Pope Benedict against other Abrahamic faiths, in truth I found it rather amusing.
Not content with offending Muslim leaders last year (though, admittedly, nowadays that isn't hard to do) and Jews the other week, the pope must have decided that it was time he put the Protestants and the Orthodox religions in their place. Is he seriously claiming that, regardless of how saintly a life someone has led, unless they are Roman Catholic, they cannot gain entry to heaven?
He must be.
Otherwise why say anything at all if, provided the necessary lifestyle criteria are met, it doesn't really matter what religion you are.
It is a strange interpretation of the basic message of Christianity.
But then, as others have remarked recently, the pope is not the only religious leader to claim exclusive right of access to heaven for himself (it is always men) and the members of the faith he represents.
They all do, and for less than saintly reasons.
Organised religions are at least as much about competing with one another for adherents, as they are about anything else.
Whether this insatiable hunger for converts is driven primarily by concern for the spiritual welfare of humanity, or by a thirst for the supposed power and influence that comes with numerical strength, is a moot point.
Whatever the motivation, in their competitiveness, each religion must peddle the line that only through adherence to its teachings and practices can one find eternal salvation.
Self-evidently, for this to have credibility at all, the theological "defects" of competitors must be highlighted. It is the search for these defects that has, for centuries, had religious leaders producing mind bogglingly complex interpretations of what are - at least where the basic tenets of the three Abrahamic faiths are concerned - quite a simple set of guidelines.
This has led to such astoundingly ludicrous depths of absurdity being plumbed that, in the past, otherwise intelligent men have argued, and fallen-out badly, over the number of angels that can comfortably be accommodated on the head of a pin.
Meanwhile, back in the real world, if so inclined there is no need for anyone to look beyond the Ten Commandments for guidance on how to live their life as God intended.
For Christians, there is even the added bonus of the Lord's Prayer.
Go beyond those simple sets of rules, however, and you are into the realms of competition and its attendant swampland of theological mumbo-jumbo. Of course, theological gymnasts on all sides will excoriate such a view as being too simplistic. But then, they would, wouldn't they.
After all, the simpler the message the more difficult it is to find deviation from it among others.
I am not anti-religion, despite the death, misery and division that so often attends it.
Besides anything, as the worldly faiths of communism and Nazism have so graphically illustrated, even if we could somehow dispense with religion, it is certain that we would replace it with another set of beliefs that are even more destructive.
Rather, I have a deep antipathy to organised religion.
As Orwell pointed out, every organisation, whatever its original intentions, invariably and very quickly reaches a point where self-protection is its main if not sole priority.
Religious organisations, as has often been shown, are no different. Ultimately, therefore, it is not religion that is the problem but human nature. Nowadays, practising Christians from across all of the strands mostly ignore the often convoluted and sometimes nonsensical pronouncements of their leaders and prefer, instead, to be guided by common sense and the basic decencies of their religion.
Long may that continue to be the case.