Poor India – What Price the Raj?

India. What a place. A country the British built and the populace wrecked. I know, I know. Colonialism is evil. One country should never rule another. This is Holy Writ in the politically correct world of the 21st century.  But just keep reading.

The Brits made plenty of mistakes in their first hundred or so years, and not just errors but acts of greed and ill will. The Rebellion of 1857 didn’t happen for nothing.

But their response to the uprising was simply extraordinary, and reveals the British as masters of the art of colony-building. They poured massive resources into creating a highly educated class which would effectively run India for them – the Indian Administrative Service. Now the Indian Civil Service, a vast sink of corruption and nepotism which daily sucks the lifeblood from the country. Bravo.

By the turn of the 20th century, having established top-quality schools modelled on Eton and military and engineering colleges of equal quality, the British were doing their very best to rule the country as well as they could. Of course the petty corruption flourished under their feet, but the big things were mostly done fairly. Their greatest offence by that time was their intensely irritating, condescending racist behaviour, when judged by modern standards. Yes, they held themselves above the ‘natives’. But it is sheer revisionism to see this as wrongful in the way it would be today. It was a necessity. Although India is enormously diverse, one quality the common people share with many Eastern cultures is their reservation of duty and respect to those who occupy a rarefied position above them. You think the Mughal emperors chummed around in the bazaar with the hoi polloi? Hardly. Look at the behaviour of the rulers of the princely states like Hyderabad. Absolute despots. And at the present day, they tolerate the most flagrant corruption and self-serving in their numerous ‘royal families’ like the Gandhis, people who live lifestyles of extreme luxury and occupy a fairytale zone not unlike that of England’s royal family.

The British attitude to Mahatma Gandhi and the other leaders in the independence cause was correct. They had been in the country for a long time, many of them loved it, and they foresaw that the end of the Raj would bring a serious setback to the lives of most Indians. They were right, even leaving aside the millions who died during Partition. What we see, still, is a country stumbling though a mire of corruption and neglect.

The British built the largest, most comprehensive rail network in the world, a task no Indian government since could even contemplate. And here’s a sobering statistic: it is estimated that one Briton died for every mile of rail laid. Of disease, alcoholism and exhaustion. The British gave the Indian people the only honest judicial system they have ever known. Gone. And not only through the courts, but by the District Inspectors who would decide petty cases judiciously, quickly and fairly, by and large, and – perhaps most importantly – at no cost. Unimaginable in modern India. Of course there were exceptions, but they did their best.

Gandhi was a genius, and many of his writings touch the deepest truths of human existence. But he was also a nutter. He was. His ashrams were nightmarish; in declaring caste nonexistent he created, among many other quarrels and privations, the absurd situation where Brahmins would sneak out at night and ritually cleanse themselves. He spent most of his energy doing battle with his own body; his greatest frustration, by his own declaration, was that even by restricting himself to five plain foods in minimal quantity he failed to quell his appetite. He was brahmacharya, a celibate, although he was married. He did not ask his wife’s permission to sentence her to a life without sex. Hardly a model of compassion, but consistent with his view that women should remain in the background, serving their men. When the independence struggle was at his height, he envisioned victory coming through mass spiritual purification. He wrote that the people of India might have to forgo having children for a period of time in order to achieve this purity. In fine, Mohandas Gandhi has been of infinitely more use to his people dead than alive.

Now India is preparing to go to the polls and we see the mess in its glory. The Indian obsession with politics is in full cry and newspapers are packed with even more political stories than usual. But any observer from a Western-style democracy would be baffled: there is virtually no discussion of policies and platforms. In three weeks of reading the daily paper, snowed under with acronyms – UPA, CPI, CPM, BJP – and politicians’ names, (many have only one, others two or three different names), this morning I came across my first story mentioning specific issues. That is all they were – mentioned.

So what are the stories about? Alliances, mostly. Who is prepared to get into bed with whom. And political debuts, all either of celebrities from the world of the screen and the sports field or of young members of political families, because in India politics is a family business. They are basically gossip. One of these was the most extraordinary political story I have ever seen.

This handsome young son of a senior political figure, having starred in a Bollywood flop, has decided to go in for politics. The interview filled half of a tabloid page and contained not one word about issues, problems he wanted to help solve, beliefs, aspirations, political philosophy. Nothing. The theme of the piece turned on whether he had the know-how and clout to win a following. Correctly, actually, because Indian politics is entirely about charisma and followers. His answer, “The offspring of a fish does not need to be taught to swim,” was satisfactory and appropriate, because it constituted a claim that he knew the individuals and their followers. He knew who owed what to whom. He knew the history of the major players’ affiliations. Which meant he knew how to get things done.

Another story demonstrates the importance of followers. The Ghorka people in the Darjeeling hills are up in arms because Mamata Bannerjee, the West Bengal Chief Minister, has fielded an ‘outsider’ for the seat of Darjeeling, a soccer star called Baichung Bhutia. But hang on. Bhutia? The Bhutias are a clan of Tibetans whose presence in Darjeeling and adjacent Sikkim, which used to include the territory of Darjeeling, long predates the Chinese invasion of Tibet. He’s from Sikkim. How can he be an outsider in the hills?

Their point is, he has no followers. So who cares, if he wins the seat on the back of his established popularity? The followers of a local candidate, that’s who. Because in Indian politics the followers of the successful candidate win prizes. Big ones. Jobs, first and foremost, for themselves and theirs. Projects they favour get funded, and the jobs on the projects go to them and those around them. And at least 20% of those funds go straight back to the politician who signs them off. Always. These vast networks run India.

If Bhutia wins, and he probably will, there is no-one there to collect. For the followers of the local aspirant this means years of work and support wasted, a disaster. So what will happen? No-one can say, but historically it is not unlikely that the local Ghorka Alliance will break away and join forces with another party, in the hope that their combined votes will defeat Bhutia and everyone will be rewarded.

To try and understand how life in general and in business in particular functions in this bizarre system, I spoke to my friend Sanjay, a successful businessman, devout Christian, a man who would greatly prefer to play with a straight bat. I asked him if it is possible to run a business in India while refusing on principle to pay bribes and kickbacks.

“I wish it was. But the answer is, absolutely not. Impossible.”

“Why not.”

“Well, let’s consider tax. When the tax inspector comes to look at our books, I have to pay him or he will take me apart. You know how many people work in these departments? They will go though everything with a fine-tooth comb. Of course there will be mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes. For every mistake, I will be fined. They will come back again and again. Multiply that by four, because there four departments, all huge – central government income tax, luxury tax, that’s the state tax, service tax, an industry thing, and VAT. If I don’t pay, can you imagine the consequences? I won’t have time to run my business. They will ruin me.”

“So what happens?”

“What happens? He comes, he says, ‘I don’t want to waste your time. I will fine you a few thousand rupees. Then it can be seen that I am doing my job. Whatever you declare, that will be satisfactory. I don’t need to look’. Of course, over and above the fine, I have to pay him. And it is not just paying him once. He comes to my restaurant on a Sunday with his family and …”

“He doesn’t get a bill?”

“Exactly. ”

This may indicate why in Gujurat recently there were 400,000 applicants for 1,500 jobs as junior tax officers.

Sanjay continues.

“Now, we pay tax. We don’t have to. My competitor down the road pays no tax and I have to sell my goods at the same cost as his, because of competitive pressure.”

“How can he pay no tax?”

“Simple. He doesn’t keep accounts, runs a pure cash business.”

“Why don’t you do the same?”

“Because to do that, you have to sit with the cash, all day long. You go into his shop, either he or his son-in-law will take your payment with his own hands. You will get no receipt. (I tested this; it was as he said.) I don’t have time to do that. And of course I can’t trust employees to do it. They will help themselves. So at least, keeping a full set of books we get all the money which comes in the door.”

He goes on to paint an ever more detailed picture of how corruption pervades everything. To buy a new house one must pay the developer at least a quarter of the price in unaccounted cash. I suggest that this places an obstacle before the buyer, a problem usually solved by open competition. Surely a developer who does not make such a demand will sell his house more easily?

“No, because his house will cost you more. If he pays tax on the whole price the buyer has to fund that.”

I noted that Chief Minster Bannerjee was promising to deliver a new water supply to Darjeeling. What will happen? Will Darjeeling get its water?

He laughs.

“Actually, that project has already been funded. Sixty miles of pipes have been laid, the pumps installed. But the hills leader suddenly announced that the water from that source is not fit for drinking and that it needed to come from somewhere else. So everything has stopped.”

“Why did he do that?”

“Because the party pushing the project through is not his. He gets nothing from it.”

I pause to absorb this, the consequences. They are barbaric. People get sick every day, babies die, because of the state of Darjeeling’s water supply. But one of their own leaders will let that go on and on until someone pays him to get out of the way. Horrible. But consistent with everything else I know about India minus the Raj.

“OK. Say that had not happened. How would the money flow? The money voted for the project – will that all get spent on supplying the infrastructure?

Another laugh.

“No way. First, the person approving the project, the politician, will take at least 20% of the funds. Then every pair of hands the money passes through will take its share.”

“So how can the project happen? Surely there won’t enough to do it?”

“Oh, it will happen, because the contractor who gets the tender will quote twice, or three times the actual cost of building it.”

“But surely others can come in with lower prices?”

“No, because the tenders have to be handed in. When a contractor who is not part of the system goes to put his tender in, there will be a bunch of goons who will stop him from delivering the papers. That’s assuming he can get his hands on the tender documents, which is unlikely.”

“But I saw an ad in the paper calling for tenders, and they were on-line. You could download the tender documents.”

“Is that right? Well, there may still be obstacles. But actually, it is getting better. They are using the Internet and other things to try to change things where they can. The UPA government has put a lot of good laws in place, for instance the Right to Information Act, other laws like that. Rahul Gandhi (Indira’s grandson) has a very modern outlook. He is trying his best, I believe.”

“But it’s a long slow job.”

“A very long, very slow job. But I will say this: twenty years ago it was worse – much worse.”

He explains how technology is transforming the economy.

“Now I can pay my tax online. You can’t imagine what a blessing this is. Also, now, to open a bank account you have to provide ID and this is checked. This means that black money which people used to stash in multiple bank accounts has to be kept in the house, or somewhere out of sight. This make it more difficult. This is a definite improvement, thanks to technology and new laws.”

People like Sanjay and his wife Sylvia are growing in number, members of an expanding middle class of  professionals, entrepreneurs and industrialists. Their children are all either at or are heading for university, becoming professionals. But the young Indian in the street has no such aspirations. His or hers are focused entirely on the ICS exam, the one you need to pass to be qualified to take a government clerical job. The ultimate dream for the masses is a lifetime ticket on the corruption gravy train. The walls in town are littered with education businesses all promising the same thing – success in the exam. Not degrees, professions. Just that golden exam.

 

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The Cloud

But over this agonisingly slow improvement a dark cloud now hangs. If the predicted outcome of the upcoming elections is correct, the next Prime Minister will be the charismatic demagogue Narendra Modi, leader of the Bharatiya Janata Party, basically an alliance of Hindu extremists. He has been the Chief Minister of the state of Gujarat since 2001. In 2002 Hindus, following the burning of a train carrying Hindu pilgrims by a Muslim mob, went on a rampage, massacring Muslims, with Muslims responding in kind. Modi, who held sole responsibility for internal security, insisted on bringing the bodies of the train victims to Ahmedabad against specific police advice that this would cause a riot. When the riots started it took the police 24 hours to intervene; more than a thousand people died in the worst communal violence since the granting of independence and the creation of Pakistan. Modi went unpunished, but he is recognised as so rabidly anti-Muslim, anti-Christian, anti all non-Hindus that he was banned from visiting the UK for 10 years, and denied a diplomatic visa to the US. It was in his state, where he claims to have solved the problem of unemployment, that the 400,000 applied for 1,500 government jobs. Some 800 farmers have committed suicide there in the last few years. A million famers have no electricity. And he is accused of giving his industrialist cronies huge tracts of government development land at nominal prices, often driving farmers off their land.

We in New Zealand remember a populist demagogue, Robert Muldoon. He used divisive, populist strategies, cynically stirring up hatred and fear  to hang on to power. The consequences for New Zealand were serious, but no-one died.  But if Narendra Modi and his BJP cronies win, as anticipated, people now alive in India are about to die horrible deaths. Many, many people. I expect that even the announcement of victory will spur riots, with ecstatic Hindus burning mosques and churches in celebration and butchering whoever gets in their way.

Only India’s federal structure stands between Modi and a terrifying fundamentalist regime; thankfully the real power on the ground lies with the state governments, who control the police. But in states like Modi’s Gujarat, with small Muslim minorities and vast numbers of illiterate or semi-literate Hindus, the embers of communal violence never die. The election of a BJP national government may well blow them into a blaze. And it is not only a problem for Muslims. Sylvia tells me that millions of India’s Christians are openly afraid of what is about to happen.

18 May, 2014. Modi’s BJP wins by a landslide. 

Nine days later two untouchable girls are raped, strangled and hung in Uttar Pradesh, another rural, backward state like Gujarat.

The police ignore the father’s call for help. Only because all the villagers create an international scandal by gathering around the girls’ hanging bodies and refusing to allow their removal are some of the offenders arrested. 

Had they simply buried the girls, or dumped them somewhere, they would have got away with it. Hundreds of such cases are reported every year; the files sit untouched in police cupboards. So why did they leave them hanging in full view, on a fruit tree? As a layered message – untouchables have no rights in Hinduism. We can do what we like. And untouchables are filthy – no Brahmin or Kshatriya would eat fruit from that tree now. Let the untouchables eat that contaminated food, to remind them of their non-humanity.

These are the ideas now known by the populace to be shared by members of their government. It is perfectly reasonable to suppose that the rapists felt emboldened by the election results, to the extent that they could actually make a display of their atrocity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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To the mother who complained in the Times about people looking at her ‘special needs’ kid.

Your letter brought home to me, once again, what an awful specimen of humanity I am. Yes – I’m a starer. In my defence, I add the adjective ‘covert.’ But I’m still looking, attracted by all that is different or unusual. Human variation far outside the norm grabs me every time. Not only that, I am a tubby-peeper. The extremely obese I find mesmerizing, doubly so when they are tucking into a triple-decker hamburger with a large side of chips. And interesting handicaps, jet black skin with magnificent Africanoid features, the extremely tall and the very small, severe stutterers, people using sign language – all grist to my prurient mill.

My only consolation is that am I among the majority, which will remain so despite any quantity of preaching and condemnation because it’s the way we’re made.

I used to ride a recumbent bike, one of those lying-down and pedaling with your legs in front of you things. Friends were constantly urging me to fly a flag on a pole and to wear glow-in-the-dark costumes. I ignored them with impunity because I knew that man, like many other species but probably more so, is hard-wired to watch for the unusual. Nothing I could do would improve the very high visibility I already enjoyed – cars didn’t hit me, the drivers slowed down to look at my weird bike.

Millions of years of programming to notice and inspect that odd pattern in the bush, the atypical animal gait which may signal easy prey and especially people who look ‘other’ and may therefore be after your lunch are not going to go away in the evolutionary eye-blink of a century. For thousands of millennia the different has represented either danger, or opportunity, or both. And thus we look.

So I accept myself but employ good manners in restricting myself to a discreet, compulsive peek. Manners which also have their roots in safety – in big cities we still learn not to challenge with eye contact.

So I am sorry, all you who are physically unusual or care for such a one. You are going to go on attracting attention. But I applaud those parents in this day of amniocentosis and elective abortion for giving the treasure of life anyway. Most of you chose your cross – bear it with pride. And if you want a break, take a trip to Ireland, Spain or Italy – Catholic countries where abortion is still a regrettable last resort, and the unusual are not so unusual.

When "Balance" Goes Wrong in the Media

Got up. Turned on Radio 4. As usual. Within two minutes my blood was boiling and I was forced to hastily flick over to Radio 3, the classical music station. Why?
Because, in the interests of ‘balance’ in a discussion about NHS safety they had a doc from somewhere in the system and a woman whom I shan’t name from an organisation called ‘Cure the NHS.’ In the two minutes she delivered one howler of a false analogy and one outright falsehood. CtNHS is a small group of people (its own description) who campaigned to expose the disaster at MidStafford Health. Well done.
But here’s the problem: all that group had on its side was a) persistence and b) a genuine disaster which had been deliberately but clumsily hidden by the perpetrators. Note the absence of qualifications, expertise, objectivity or anything else which I would like to imagine plays a part in the selection of spokespeople on issues of national interest.
The spokeswoman’s tone of voice was one we all recognise in many amateur campaigners on an issue which has caused them harm: sustained, monotonous sadness. This person, in my opinion, needs a long rest and some counselling to get over the trauma she experienced in losing a relative unnecessarily. Not being elevated to a status for which she is not qualified and in which she is now doing serious harm.
The false analogy was that the airline industry gets it right, now the NHS needs to do as well.
Whoa! Stop the bus. Everything that can be known about an aeroplane is known and can be measured with high accuracy. The human body is literally the most complex system in the known universe. But, and here’s the problem, it sounds perfectly reasonable, and many listeners will be saying ‘Yes. Absolutely.’
The falsehood was another catchy statement: ‘The NHS spends a fortune on harming people.’ Sorry – it doesn’t. ‘On’ in that sentence is a synonym for ‘for the purpose of’ or ‘in order to’, in other words, intentionally. Not true, but again, sounds good.
And the harm she does? Blinding the citizenry to the fact that they still have one of the very best free health systems in the world. The only countries with better ones tend to have far higher rates of taxation than the British would tolerate, so value for money, it’s the best there is. They need to be defending it, not badmouthing it.

What galls me is that Radio 4 is paid for out of the license fee. It has no need to sensationalise, to grab listeners by any means possible. Its license is to inform, so the criteria they should be applying to producing balanced stories are to ensure the representatives of competing points of view are qualified, well-informed and articulate.
If they took that approach, that woman would not be allowed anywhere near a microphone and the world would be a better place for it.

My Campaign Against the Bishop of Bristol

Background: Bristol is the refuge city of choice for quite a few refugees and immigrants from Africa because the city has a policy of welcoming the world to Bristol.

Our parish is about 65% black and  10% Indian (the music is outrageous!), many of them illegal or refugees pending resolution, during which time they are prevented from working or receiving welfare. Literally made destitute by decree. Our priest, the remarkable Fr Richard Mackay, has run up a thumping overdraft paying for lawyers, investigators and travel costs to tribunals, on which trips he usually accompanies them. He rescues people from vile detention centres. The diocese has hung a sword of Damocles over his head: stop it, or else.

14thJune 2013
The Annexe
Hobwell Lane
Long Ashton
Dear Bishop Declan, Your Grace,
I am a parishioner at St Nicholas Tolentino. When I first came to Bristol 15 months ago from New Zealand, my first priority was to find a parish where I felt at home, which would mean with the same priorities and spirituality as my beloved and dearly missed St Patrick’s Cathedral at home.
One of the elements important to me can be referenced by this line from St Pat’s published priorities:
  • supporting  inner city out-reach to those in need or who are marginalised. We support and encourage Catholic social service agencies as well as the initiatives provided by other Churches in the downtown area.

They mean it, and they do it. Street people recognise the Cathedral as a home, and often wander in during Mass and at other times for a snooze on one of the back pews (they’re usually remarkably polite and considerate, even the mentally unwell). They are known by name and welcomed, grieved and prayed for when lost to death or institutionalisation.
Often at night Hindus can be found praying on the church steps. They say they recognise St Pats as a holy place, a shrine. It’s so lovely to come to Mass and see marigolds and daubs of colour on the steps.
It’s a hard act to follow. St Nick’s is alone in Bristol, at least that I could find, in practising that standard of Christ’s teaching. I don’t condemn – it is a high standard, difficult and, for the devoted clergy, demanding at all hours of the day and night. The St Pat’s presbytery is across the square, twenty yards away. People know they can knock on that door at any hour and it will open. It’s not a life for everyone.
What I do find hard to understand is that St Nick’s, far from being held up as a shining example by the diocese, is being brought to heel like a disobedient dog. The diocese’s website appears to show no wish to own and praise the enormous amount of time and money invested by Fr Richard and his team in helping the poor and marginalised, finding and sometimes funding lawyers, personally going to detention centres, police stations and courts to be a champion for the friendless.
I searched the site for anything that looked like a concern for the struggling and sometimes oppressed migrant communities of the city. The Justice and Peace Committee? Sorry. Advocating for justice in Brazil? ‘Investigating the possibility’ of working on human trafficking. ‘Re-examining racial justice issues.’ It hardly paints a picture of a church championing the kind of people Our Lord spent most of his time with.
The Annual Report, what does that say? Unsurprisingly, the first half of the narrative is about buildings. I have a fair idea what our magnificent new Holy Father, God protect his shadow, would have to say. A poor church for the poor? Clifton Diocese?
My point is: what a waste of riches. How about turning all this around in one simple stroke? Recognise that Fr Richard and St Nick’s are actually carrying Christ’s cross on behalf of the Diocese.Honour them as heroes, which they are. Feature their work in Diocesan reports. Appoint St Nick’s as the Diocesan Migrant Outreach Centre. It already is, de facto. Fund the Borderland Trust. So many of the stories are heartbreaking, but thanks to Fr Richard and his team, many fewer than might be. (I love this country and adore this wonderful city, but have been deeply shocked by some of the actions of the Home Office. But nowhere is perfect.)
What I suggest is the simple recognition of fact after all – the oppressed of this fair city already know where they can go and be sure to receive time and help. The buzz is on the street. To the Catholic Church. But not the Cathedral. The one at Lawford’s Gate.
I am sure you find some of Fr Richard’s viewpoints unacceptable, even unruly. But with good management, supporting his work need not necessarily provide him with a platform for all his views. He is a clever man, and not one to bite the hand that feeds his flock.
The Holy Father is looking for a new face for the Church. Clifton Diocese has one, ready-made. All you have to do is be proud of it. And fund it. You can certainly afford to.
Indeed, the question in these new times is – can you afford not to? I don’t imagine for a second that the Holy Father will be content to exhort and encourage. He knows what he’s up against, and is an untiring activist. Sooner or later there will be reviews. People may even ask for them – there’s a great deal of discontent out here among the laity. We have been scandalised for decades. We’re not happy. You have been doing good work with your review of Vatican II, but they are just words and words are never enough.
Remember what St Francis said. “Preach the Gospel by every means possible. Even use words, if you have to.”
This is exactly what Fr Richard and St Nick’s are doing, and we have an apparently endless stream of catechumens to show for it.
Enough. You get the point.
Respectfully, may God bless and forgive us all,
Christopher Hegan
cc: Fr Richard McKay
His reply:
Dear Christopher
Thank you for your letter in support of Father Mackay at St Nicholas of Tolentino. I will certainly take note of your comments.
With my best wishes
Yours sincerely
Declan

Rt Rev Declan Lang
Bishop of Clifton

My Campaign Against the Bishop of Bristol (continued)

26 July 2013
The Annexe
Hobwell Lane
Long Ashton
Bristol

Dear Bishop Declan, Your Grace,
Thank you for your reply of the 5th inst.
I must confess I had hoped for a substantive, if not necessarily lengthy, response. Although I am but one parishioner of many, I hoped that the subject matter might elevate our exchange to a level of intercourse, albeit brief.
I refer you to the homily delivered by Pope Francis at Lampedusa, on a matter of such importance that it prompted his first visit outside Rome. He coins the memorable phrase “the globalisation of indifference” in a homily he specifies as intended “to challenge people’s consciences and lead them to reflection and a concrete change of heart.”
As we are all seeing, the Holy Father is a powerful and thoughtful user of language. His homilies and statements are entirely devoid of platitude and formula. He could have declared to some effect that he wanted a “new church for the poor.” He didn’t. He quite specifically said he wanted “a poor church for the poor.” (My emphasis.)
How can we square this with a diocese which has funds to invest with JP Morgan yet has not the money to pay for a lawyer when one of its own is threatened with being sliced away from home and parish in a grossly unequal battle? Such was the fate of John Patrick, a member of our choir, last Friday.
Let me answer: we simply cannot. It remains a broken circle.
Why is the diocese investing so much money? Against the future? What future? A future when we have too few parishioners to support our institutions? To plan for such a future seems to me verging on sinful. Did Jesus not say, “Sufficient unto the day are the evils thereof”? Or was He a bit off the mark with that one?
I am, from where you stand, a lone, insignificant and probably presumptuous voice. But I have had a lifetime as a communications professional and know very well how to create a ‘story’ when I need one. I know how to reach people. This is my committed campaign: to see Clifton Diocese become an active, visible champion of the poor and the discarded, using both its voice and its assets to help them.
Remember, Jesus did not say in Matthew 25-36 “I was in innocent in prison and you came to me”. You and many of your congregation may be concerned, as many are, about the problem of illegal immigration. If it is a problem – I’m not so sure. Even if those arriving become a burden on us, history tends to support the proposition that their more numerous young will be working to support us in our old age, when our too few children cannot. But it is beside the point. No position on this issue can provide an excuse for a wealthy church not to succour the penniless and over-whelmed in our midst.
So I say this: if you continue to rein in St Nicholas’ spending on helping the poor, I will do my best to out you. It may not concern you. I will probably fail. But not certainly. I have pulled offer tougher assignments in my time.
Respectfully, God bless and forgive us all,


Christopher Hegan