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From The Globe and Mail
By Kenneth Bagnell
February 20, 1988
In the classrooms of the Toronto
School of Theology, where the students come from most of the major
churches, one of the frequent visiting lecturers is a man named Tom
Harpur. He is clearly qualified to be there; along with his basic
arts and theology degrees, Harpur is also a Rhodes Scholar who
studied philosophy and theology at Oxford. He became an Anglican
clergyman, a professor of the New Testament and then, in the late
sixties, a journalist specializing in religion in The Toronto Star.
Often in his classes Harpur is asked to defend the media. Many times
he does. "There is, however," he says, "one criticism I find
impossible to parry: that in covering the news, the media are, deep
down, extraordinarily shallow most of the time."
Harpur makes this statement in his book Always on Sunday, and in
doing so he is not, in the main, complaining that the media ignore
religion or ethics as explicit subjects by themselves. He simply
feels that the people who write the news and put out the magazines
too often lack a certain ethical awareness that would help them put
things in the moral context they clearly call for: "For example,
there hasn't been a major news story that I can remember that does
not have a ‘depth dimension' that has to do with religion and
morals." He mentions the sabotage of the Air India flight, the
hostage-taking in Lebanon, the nuclear issue and the debate over the
Canadian economy.
Harpur's Sunday Star columns raise in an unassuming way the
questions of human conduct and human purpose. He discusses these
ideas in a style so engaging that many of his readers will have no
interest whatever in the purely religious. One day he will deal with
belief, and point out that atheism itself is a form of belief; then
he will turn to the TV evangelists and argue that they stand for
values at odds with Christ; then he will take up the decline of
courtesy in our generation.
In all his pieces, even those on horrific subjects, Harpur is calm.
But he is not so intimidated by the media culture in which he works
that he fears being labeled a moralist, which is often the case with
a journalist who dares to put his intelligence to work on ethics and
religion. In one of his most telling essays, he examines violence
against women by taking an obscure passage of scripture from the
Book of Judges and retelling its story in modern language - the
story of a girl taken by a mob and abused over and over again.
Writes Harpur: "When this pitiless gang rape ended, she collapsed
near dead at the door of the old man's house. Early next day she was
discovered there by her master as he was preparing to leave. He
issued a curt order to the unconscious victim to get up and join him
on the journey...Somewhere along the road she died, unwept for,
untended, truly alone." This is Harpur's finest column and one of
the most moving essays I've read on violence against women. His main
point is that the Bible is still used to subjugate women and the
Christian Church has been the handmaiden: "An Apology is owed the
women of the world by nearly all organized religions."
Harpur's paper and his readers should be pleased at one thing they
probably take for granted: he is not limited, as some current
religious journalists are, to what theologians call "the horizontal"
- the question of South Africa, the issue of native rights, the
disarmament movement and so on. These are enormous subjects of
enormous importance. But if religion writers are wedded exclusively
to them, they risk the self-defeat that is the fruit of their
reader's boredom. Moreover, the question of the presence of God in
our lives is still the ultimate one. The age of science has neither
answered it nor, as some once thought, pushed it aside.
I am grateful that there is one man writing quietly and well, who on
Sundays is there to remind us of the truth of the words said to have
come from John Wesley: "The greatest of all is this: God is with
us."
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