Latest news with #MacCulloch
Scoop
3 days ago
- Business
- Scoop
A Radical Tax Plan To Avoid An Economic 'Car Crash'
Have you ever wished the tax you paid on your income was going into savings, rather than to the government? That's the idea behind a plan developed by former Finance Minister Sir Roger Douglas and University of Auckland economics professor Robert MacCulloch. They first developed the proposal in 2016 but have updated it for 2025. "Back in 2016, the original version said we're going to struggle with paying the welfare bills and there are going to be budgetary problems due to the aging population, from health to pension spending and we have to work out how to protect the welfare state so there are not cuts to those services," MacCulloch said. "At the time, Bill English had an economic advisory group that I used to go to in the Beehive and… he didn't have any interest whatsoever. I remember him saying, 'look that's for future governments to deal with and people will have to adapt'." But MacCulloch said the governments since then had done nothing to address the issue. Treasury and Inland Revenue have both raised questions in the past year about how the government will collect enough revenue to fund the increasing cost of NZ Super and healthcare. By 2060, 26 percent of New Zealanders will be over 65, up from 16 percent in 2021. MacCulloch and Sir Roger said that income tax on earnings up to $60,000 a year should instead be redirected into individual savings accounts to fund each person's healthcare pension and risk cover. That would replace much of the current public system with private provision. People who did not have enough in their individual accounts could still be helped by the public system, which would be funded on taxes collected on income over $60,000 a year. This would mean larger numbers of middle- and higher-income people paying for their themselves, while the system helped lower-income people. "It retains that wealth redistribution - so is not at all like the US system which leaves many low income people without proper healthcare. It's more like France where everyone is covered and everyone can choose whether they go public or private." MacCulloch said that would mean government costs were reduced, the quality of outcomes increased and the plight of low-income earners improved. He said too many low-income people had no savings in KiwiSaver. This model would help to address that. According to the model, an individual could save around $21,000 annually: $9450 into a health account, $7350 for superannuation, and $4200 for risk cover. A drop in corporate taxes would help fund employer contributions. "Our savings-not-taxation reform offers scope for efficiency gains in healthcare. It does so by opening up choice for individuals," MacCulloch said. "Rather than the government dictating where to go, people can choose their preferred public or private supplier." They would keep the pension but raise the age of eligibility to 70 over a 20-year period. Subsidies and interest-free loans for tertiary students would be means tested. They would scrap grants to the movie industry, winter energy subsidies to wealthy households, favourable tax treatment for owners of rental housing, and allowances to sectors such as forestry, fishing, and bloodstock. The money saved from these changes would be directed towards helping low earners build savings and cover the welfare needs of those who are chronically unwell. "Perhaps more than any other feature of our reform, it's the 'miracle of compound interest' that governments like New Zealand's are not taking proper advantage of," MacCulloch said. "If we can do this, it'll help our financial situation." He said the problem the government now had was that it was not set to return to surplus in any meaningful way. "What the government calls a return to surplus is a projection [of] a tiny surplus in 2029 and then [the deficit] blows out again with health and pension spending." He said many countries around the world were having to make changes because of similar pressures. But he said there was still limited political interest. "What I can tell you is by not going down this road, what they're not telling you is a slow motion car crash crisis is enveloping New Zealand and it's not my job to save the country with this. "I did the proposal. They have no interest. I've given up on them. But you know what? Without doing something like this, they're gradually descending into a situation where our entire health system is going to become run down." He said New Zealand had missed a chance to require compulsory retirement savings. "The average KiwiSaver balance is $30,000. A mandatory retirement scheme was set up by Keating around 2000 in Australia and the average balance in the Aussie system scheme is $300,000." He said the power of compound interest meant that large balances grew much faster, which meant New Zealand was being left increasingly behind. But his plan would allow New Zealanders to take advantage of that. Finance Minister Nicola Willis said the Government was not considering changes to the tax system of the sort proposed by Sir Roger and MacCulloch.
Scoop
09-07-2025
- Business
- Scoop
Economists Moot Bold Income Tax Plan
What if your income tax didn't go to the government but into your own savings account? A bold proposal makes the case. New Zealand's ageing population and ballooning welfare and health costs are piling pressure on the public purse. In response, former Minister of Finance Sir Roger Douglas and University of Auckland economics professor Robert MacCulloch are reimagining their ambitious 2016 proposal to overhaul the country's tax, health and welfare systems by shifting income taxation to mandatory savings. In their research article, the pair argue that income tax on earnings up to $60,000 should be redirected into individual savings accounts. These accounts would fund each person's healthcare, pension and risk cover, replacing much of the current public system with private provision. By 2060, 26 percent of New Zealanders will be over 65, up from 16 percent in 2021, which will intensify the strain on superannuation and healthcare. 'We need to change the way we're doing things so government costs can be reduced, quality of outcomes increased, and the plight of low earners, who are most vulnerable to public cuts, improved,' say Douglas and MacCulloch in their paper How to change the welfare state from a taxation to a savings-based model. The economists attempt a politically feasible plan that maintains total welfare funding from both public and private sources, while opening up more choice and competition in the supply of healthcare services. 'We need to adjust the tax system so the vast majority of New Zealanders of working age can provide for themselves,' says MacCulloch. 'The first step is to build mandatory savings accounts for health, pensions and risk cover via the transfer into them of current taxes paid on income up to $60,000.' According to their model, an individual could save around $21,000 annually: $9,450 into a health account, $7,350 for superannuation, and $4,200 for risk cover. A drop in corporate taxes would help fund employer contributions, and the government would retain sufficient tax revenues so it could act as 'insurer of last resort', paying for people who can't meet their welfare costs out of their savings accounts. 'Our savings-not-taxation reform offers scope for efficiency gains in healthcare. It does so by opening up choice for individuals,' says MacCulloch. 'Rather than the government dictating where to go, people can choose their preferred public or private supplier.' The researchers point to Singapore, which employs mandatory savings accounts and has one of the highest-quality healthcare systems in the world, yet spent 5.6 percent of its GDP on healthcare in 2021 (including both public and private sectors), compared to New Zealand's 10.1 percent. 'Our reform keeps the pension but would raise the retirement age gradually from 65 to 70 years old over a 20-year period,' says MacCulloch. The authors would do away with fee subsidies and interest-free loans for tertiary students from well-off families. Instead, a means test would see only students from low-income, low-capital families receive aid. They would scrap grants to the movie industry, winter energy subsidies to wealthy households, favourable tax treatment for owners of rental housing, and allowances to sectors such as forestry, fishing, and bloodstock. The money saved from these changes would be directed towards helping low earners build savings and cover the welfare needs of those who are chronically unwell. 'Perhaps more than any other feature of our reform, it's the 'miracle of compound interest' that governments like New Zealand's are not taking proper advantage of,' says MacCulloch. 'If we can do this, it'll help our financial situation.' MacCulloch notes that the proposal isn't without flaws, but says bold change and ideas are needed, and fast, if Aotearoa New Zealand is to create a resilient economy in the face of an ageing population.
Kiwiblog
26-05-2025
- Business
- Kiwiblog
Bryce Edwards on 'soft-corruption' in New Zealand – especially re Robert MacCullouch.
Early last year I married, for the second time, and my new wife came from Brazil 16 years ago. When we visited her country and family, last year, we talked a lot about corruption there (the series The Mechanism is an outstanding watch). I told her that I believe that there is a MASSIVE amount of 'soft corruption in NZ' – where power (a big budget, lots of staff, influence, re-election) is the currency – as opposed to monetary bribes. Professor Robert MacCullouch is a very highly qualified economist with a chair at the University of Auckland. I read his work often (as a person qualified in economics and education) and appreciate that he has, until now, fearlessly supported positive actions from government and the business community – and challenged those he sees as negatives. Bryce Edwards has written in this recently: (I have point-form summarised somewhat): 'Chumocracy' and the Suppression of Prof MacCulloch – NZ needs more people like Robert MacCulloch willing to speak out. But if the price of dissent is this high, how many will choose to do so? His story is a good example of what happens when you dare to speak truth to power in a small country where the elites are all too interconnected. – MacCulloch {has] launched some heavy broadsides at the way that political and business elites in this country are ruining the economy and the political process by their dysfunctional hold on power in which dissent and debate are suppressed using patronage and threats. – MacCulloch announced this week that he is closing his long-running blog, explaining that 'National, Labour and Big Business NZ have begun to complain and threaten me at the highest levels about my writings'. – MacCulloch has outlined how the attempts of himself and others to hold powerful interests to account have been met, not with reasoned rebuttal, but with threats, blacklisting, and institutional pressure designed to silence dissent. His experience provides a rare insider's account of how New Zealand's political and business elite police the boundaries of acceptable debate. MacCulloch explicitly claims to be closing his website after receiving 'threats from current and former cabinet ministers'. 'You get excommunicated from the little cosy group of inbred Wellington officials and high-ranking boards.' He says he has become 'persona non grata'. – MacCulloch's core accusation is that New Zealand operates on a system of 'soft corruption'… Corruption in New Zealand takes the form of you scratch my back, I scratch yours.' – The message conveyed to him, particularly from figures associated with the current National-led government, was that positive political commentary would be rewarded with political appointments. MacCulloch argues that this patronage system is how the 'inbred club' maintains control over appointments to high public and private offices. MacCulloch said he was essentially excommunicated by New Zealand's political establishment for criticising government economic policy and elite appointments. – A central theme in MacCulloch's recent and past analysis is the existence of a 'cosy inbred club' running New Zealand. This … he argues, comprises interconnected individuals across politics, the corporate sector, and the civil service, who are often 'promoted way beyond their abilities'. 'Every high-status job in the country is just a job for mates', and appointments are 'so corrupt it's beyond belief – now it's just a group of people going from one big job to the next even when they're not qualified and don't deserve the job'. He argues that the last Labour government entrenched a culture of ideological appointments, and the National-led government is continuing the same pattern – just swapping in their own preferred cronies [Or not appointing anyone – re the Ministry of Education.] – MacCulloch describes corporate New Zealand, particularly the NZX50 companies, as a 'disaster', run by 'accountants and lawyers' who 'all know each other', with many boards forming an 'inbred club'. He notes the poor performance of many top companies. – MacCulloch says elite capture of high-status jobs blocks talented young people from progressing: 'They can't get promoted because you've got these bums occupying these big positions of power.' Hence, young New Zealanders are leaving the country. – [And] MacCulloch is lamenting the 'inbred culture of the civil service in Wellington' where 'the same old types in charge – being career bureaucrats with law, accounting, communications, or vague 'management' backgrounds'. Why all this matters. – MacCulloch's experience should serve as a warning for anyone who believes in open debate, academic freedom, and political diversity. He is an Oxford-trained economist, a respected professor, and someone who engaged constructively across the political spectrum. Moreover, he holds the highly prestigious 'Matthew S Abel Chair of Macroeconomics' at the University of Auckland. – This about defending the public sphere from being captured by a narrow set of insiders. It is about meritocracy, open debate, and resisting the cartelisation of ideas. – New Zealand needs more people like Robert MacCulloch willing to speak out. But if the price of dissent continues to be this high, how many will choose to do so? – As MacCulloch points out, this is a 'soft corruption' of jobs for the boys and girls – New Zealand political and economic system has become one where entry to the upper echelons is extraordinary closed, with political appointments being reserved for mates, or the 'chumocracy'. I responded to Bryce Edwards on this: Hello Bryce Your piece on the Prof is outstanding. Although I am not in the same class as Robert – having an economics and education background at least allows me to understand. In terms of speaking out on the education system. National/ACT loved me with the original Charter Schools (a MUCH better programme than this time around) and my critique of Labour and the MoE when National was in opposition. Indeed – I organised an outstanding education summit for Erica Stanford in Cambridge when she was the opposition spokesperson for education. I also presented to the NZ Economic Forum at Waikato Uni 2023. When I have critiqued NACT's education work (or lack of it) – I have heard from all sorts of people telling me to be quiet (Taxpayer's Union, NZ Initiative, former MPs x 3, etc). Despite being in frequent contact with Erica Stanford when she was in opposition – I have heard nothing from her when she has been in government (except having a third party tell me she was 'devastated' by my critique). When Labour was in power – Oliver Hartwich told media that TNT was a solution for the Ministry. NZ Initiative is silent on such things when National are in. Michael Johnston of the Initiative is one of Stanford's close advisors. Seymour has also spoken negatively of me in the media as I have criticised the pathetic Charter School roll-out – even bringing up my divorce from my first wife while on Hosking (in the same conversation where he blasted Jenny Shipley). The Charter School roll-out has been dominated by telling lies about the level of funding (just $10m until June 30th 2025) and spending $30million (of $123million until the end of 2026) on the Charter School Agency (an entirely incompetent mini-bureaucracy who have also done as much as they can – some of it clearly illegally – to discredit me). I am sure others could share similar experiences and are beginning to do so. I will not stop speaking out on the continued decline of the NZ system – or the broken promises and lack of action the Stanford/Seymour/MOE. It is highly unusual that a new Sec for Ed has not been appointed and that the Ministry of Ed is still at a 'head-count' of over 4,200 despite the promise to bring it back to the pre-Hipkins of 2,700. In the current environment the people that most need to challenge the current government are those that supported them into office. The need to ask them to keep their promises! – in the same way that a great sport club's fans ask the team to actually perform. The education changes are incremental – at best. If the boat is already sinking fast then putting your fingers in a few holes is just not going to work. And … shutting down dissent is an awful way to go about anything. Alwyn Poole [email protected]
Yahoo
29-04-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
A New Book Challenges the Church's Reputation on Sex
Over many centuries, interpretations of the Bible have led kings and elected leaders alike to, among other things, set prohibitions on divorce, criminalize homosexuality, and ban contraception. Theological rules still affect people's private lives—whether they are Christian or not—in modern America, where biblical values are often cited in efforts to outlaw abortion and restrict gender expression. Now a new book on the stormy relationship between God and lust has arrived from the scholar Diarmaid MacCulloch, who argues that Christian ideas about sex have been 'startlingly varied' and not always so inherently punitive. MacCulloch, a professor (now emeritus) at the University of Oxford since 1995, is a preeminent historian of Christianity. He does not shy away from dense topics, having attempted to distill centuries of debate into lengthy books about Thomas Cromwell and the Protestant Reformation, for example. If this makes him sound stuffy, be assured that he is not. In his newest book, Lower Than the Angels: A History of Sex and Christianity, he wryly remarks: 'If sex is definitely a problem, it is also great fun.' Often, MacCulloch writes, the Bible is a 'blunt instrument' that is not necessarily ideal for such a slippery topic as lust—and on that subject, he is both sincere and playful. Although he doesn't address it explicitly in his new book, MacCulloch is gay; after he was ordained a deacon in the Church of England in the 1980s, he decided against the priesthood because of the Church's attitude toward homosexuality. Today, he describes his relationship to the Anglican Church as that of a 'candid friend of Christianity'—one who is not afraid of taking a wrecking ball to preconceived ideas of religious history. 'I think religion has got everything appallingly wrong and it has been terrible for us in sexual terms,' he told New Humanist when promoting his 2015 television show, Sex and the Church. But because Christian views of sexuality—already varied across denominations—have fluctuated over time, MacCulloch argues, it might therefore be possible for even the most stringent Christian institutions to evolve and display an elastic tolerance yet again. In Lower Than the Angels, MacCulloch describes several issues across Protestant and Catholic history that today appear settled but were once subject to intense clerical debate. Not all Christian clergy members were in favor of the priesthood becoming celibate, nor of declaring contraception to be immoral—such institutional decisions were always political, MacCulloch argues. Allowing room for such perspectives is part of MacCulloch's project, as he aims to unsettle those who think there has always been a 'consistent view on sex in a seamless and infallible text known as the Bible.' Of course, this means some critics will find MacCulloch's methodology flawed from the outset. To him, the Bible is a 'library,' a collection of enduring texts that are not necessarily the inerrant word of God. He believes that the book is meant to be interpreted much like a living document, rather than how an originalist might approach the Constitution. (His reading of King David and his close companion Jonathan may be particularly irksome to fundamentalists; MacCulloch argues that the text fairly clearly suggests an intimate physical relationship between the two.) In this way, MacCulloch diverges from Christian orthodoxy on many points. For instance, he argues that Jesus was hardly a family man, and that his Gospel held no special fondness for the modern nuclear family: 'I have come to set a man against his father,' Christ said, invoking a passage from the Book of Micah. In the early Church, divergences between Christian theology and Roman law created anxieties about the role of women—for example, the power that widows, whom the nascent Church encouraged not to remarry, might wield. Around the first century C.E., a few churches attempted to restrict women's movements and political activities. Still, ordinary women were able to negotiate some power for themselves. MacCulloch suggests that, for female believers and mystics, abstaining from sex was a means of exerting agency in a world that wanted to marry them off. He delights in chronicling examples of such figures, many of whom were denounced as heretics for their bizarre epiphanies. (One medieval Viennese celibate described herself 'swallowing the foreskin of Christ' in a vision.) But no one proved to be entirely safe from the threat of sexual panic. The fourth-century theologian Jerome argued that even sex within marriage could be contaminated, such that (in MacCulloch's words) 'a man who loves his wife excessively is an adulterer.' One was expected to be devoted to God above all, and some Church leaders considered mandated restraint to be the only way of truly becoming close to God. In modern Christianity, contraception became similarly divisive within the Catholic Church—and some laypeople and priests were disappointed by papal decrees against its use. But the Church has at times changed its teachings on moral issues, including some that would seem baked into the text of the Bible itself. Across Christian denominations, views on divorce have been anything but stable—even as state and Church officials have searched for ways to defend the institution of heterosexual marriage, many Christians now get divorced without fear of eternal damnation. MacCulloch tells the stories of many Christians who went against popular belief. Some 18th-century Moravians interpreted the Protestant emphasis on faith over action as a sign that they were free to sin, because they were already forgiven by God. (These sins included extramarital sex and even some minor homosexual behavior.) These examples are meant to show us the mutability of religion: that nothing was (or is) certain, and that numerous institutional beliefs may be the result of centuries of misreadings and willful disengagement with doctrine. Many of MacCulloch's examples hinge on issues of translation, literalism, and poetic metaphor—and what modern fundamentalists leave out of their interpretations. For instance, he notes how little the Bible says about homosexuality compared with how much it says about greed, even though contemporary religious thinkers focus far more on the former. Institutions often teeter between freedom and restriction—and these oscillations are what make history interesting. What MacCulloch wants is for modern readers to put down their certainty, even if they're not entirely won over by his wide-ranging claims: 'What passes for theological and ethical reflection in many Christian quarters is an exercise in ignoring the reality of present imbalances that disfigure divine creation, usually through strident repetition of old certainties,' he writes. It's not that queer Christians were actually a commonplace, frequently accepted group, but that even small deviations from doctrine are instructive for brokering more fruitful encounters between religious bodies and those who seem categorically outside them. If some issues that now appear settled were once up for debate, might the floor be reopened to consider modern perspectives? [Read: The greatest contribution of Christianity] MacCulloch takes on both Protestant and Catholic history with bombast, stretching his theories thin across thousands of years. This is always a danger with wide historical surveys, and MacCulloch's final section, on contemporary Church history—passages on the Catholic Church's sexual-abuse scandals, the Gay Christian Movement's fight for acceptance, and the relationship between homophobia and colonialism—ends up feeling rushed as a result. But when MacCulloch does take the time to hook into case studies of Christians bucking consensus, he provides moving stories of how believers can let their guard down and move through the world with humility. In one chapter, MacCulloch gives a stunning example of a woman who transcended prejudice: the American televangelist Tammy Faye Messner. In 1985, years after she became famous as a conservative talk-show host, Messner staged an interview with Steve Pieters, a minister of a gay-affirming congregation who was dying of AIDS. Her 'tearful acceptance of Pieters on screen as a fellow Christian' was momentous for many (and enraging for others). By the time she died, in 2007, her first husband had gone to prison for fraud, and she'd become a gay icon. 'When we lost everything,' she told Larry King, 'it was the gay people that came to the rescue, and I will always love them for that.' Such grace, when given, can illuminate the question of how to traverse difference instead of merely quashing it. Although historically the Church may bend toward definitive stances and protocols, many believers are simply getting on with their dutiful prayers. Resolving tangled questions over how sex and gender fit within a religious framework may be a losing battle—one littered with examples of both fundamental ire and liberal wishful thinking—but the fight itself contains many surprising interludes. Article originally published at The Atlantic
Atlantic
29-04-2025
- Politics
- Atlantic
The Church's Take on Sex Has Always Been Complicated
Over many centuries, interpretations of the Bible have led kings and elected leaders alike to, among other things, set prohibitions on divorce, criminalize homosexuality, and ban contraception. Theological rules still affect people's private lives—whether they are Christian or not—in modern America, where biblical values are often cited in efforts to outlaw abortion and restrict gender expression. Now a new book on the stormy relationship between God and lust has arrived from the scholar Diarmaid MacCulloch, who argues that Christian ideas about sex have been 'startlingly varied' and not always so inherently punitive. MacCulloch, a professor (now emeritus) at the University of Oxford since 1995, is a preeminent historian of Christianity. He does not shy away from dense topics, having attempted to distill centuries of debate into lengthy books about Thomas Cromwell and the Protestant Reformation, for example. If this makes him sound stuffy, be assured that he is not. In his newest book, Lower Than the Angels: A History of Sex and Christianity, he wryly remarks: 'If sex is definitely a problem, it is also great fun.' Often, MacCulloch writes, the Bible is a 'blunt instrument' that is not necessarily ideal for such a slippery topic as lust—and on that subject, he is both sincere and playful. Although he doesn't address it explicitly in his new book, MacCulloch is gay; after he was ordained a deacon in the Church of England in the 1980s, he decided against the priesthood because of the Church's attitude toward homosexuality. Today, he describes his relationship to the Anglican Church as that of a 'candid friend of Christianity'—one who is not afraid of taking a wrecking ball to preconceived ideas of religious history. 'I think religion has got everything appallingly wrong and it has been terrible for us in sexual terms,' he told New Humanist when promoting his 2015 television show, Sex and the Church. But because Christian views of sexuality—already varied across denominations—have fluctuated over time, MacCulloch argues, it might therefore be possible for even the most stringent Christian institutions to evolve and display an elastic tolerance yet again. In Lower Than the Angels, MacCulloch describes several issues across Protestant and Catholic history that today appear settled but were once subject to intense clerical debate. Not all Christian clergy members were in favor of the priesthood becoming celibate, nor of declaring contraception to be immoral—such institutional decisions were always political, MacCulloch argues. Allowing room for such perspectives is part of MacCulloch's project, as he aims to unsettle those who think there has always been a 'consistent view on sex in a seamless and infallible text known as the Bible.' Of course, this means some critics will find MacCulloch's methodology flawed from the outset. To him, the Bible is a 'library,' a collection of enduring texts that are not necessarily the inerrant word of God. He believes that the book is meant to be interpreted much like a living document, rather than how an originalist might approach the Constitution. (His reading of King David and his close companion Jonathan may be particularly irksome to fundamentalists; MacCulloch argues that the text fairly clearly suggests an intimate physical relationship between the two.) In this way, MacCulloch diverges from Christian orthodoxy on many points. For instance, he argues that Jesus was hardly a family man, and that his Gospel held no special fondness for the modern nuclear family: 'I have come to set a man against his father,' Christ said, invoking a passage from the Book of Micah. In the early Church, divergences between Christian theology and Roman law created anxieties about the role of women—for example, the power that widows, whom the nascent Church encouraged not to remarry, might wield. Around the first century C.E., a few churches attempted to restrict women's movements and political activities. Still, ordinary women were able to negotiate some power for themselves. MacCulloch suggests that, for female believers and mystics, abstaining from sex was a means of exerting agency in a world that wanted to marry them off. He delights in chronicling examples of such figures, many of whom were denounced as heretics for their bizarre epiphanies. (One medieval Viennese celibate described herself 'swallowing the foreskin of Christ' in a vision.) But no one proved to be entirely safe from the threat of sexual panic. The fourth-century theologian Jerome argued that even sex within marriage could be contaminated, such that (in MacCulloch's words) 'a man who loves his wife excessively is an adulterer.' One was expected to be devoted to God above all, and some Church leaders considered mandated restraint to be the only way of truly becoming close to God. In modern Christianity, contraception became similarly divisive within the Catholic Church—and some laypeople and priests were disappointed by papal decrees against its use. But the Church has at times changed its teachings on moral issues, including some that would seem baked into the text of the Bible itself. Across Christian denominations, views on divorce have been anything but stable—even as state and Church officials have searched for ways to defend the institution of heterosexual marriage, many Christians now get divorced without fear of eternal damnation. MacCulloch tells the stories of many Christians who went against popular belief. Some 18th-century Moravians interpreted the Protestant emphasis on faith over action as a sign that they were free to sin, because they were already forgiven by God. (These sins included extramarital sex and even some minor homosexual behavior.) These examples are meant to show us the mutability of religion: that nothing was (or is) certain, and that numerous institutional beliefs may be the result of centuries of misreadings and willful disengagement with doctrine. Many of MacCulloch's examples hinge on issues of translation, literalism, and poetic metaphor—and what modern fundamentalists leave out of their interpretations. For instance, he notes how little the Bible says about homosexuality compared with how much it says about greed, even though contemporary religious thinkers focus far more on the former. Institutions often teeter between freedom and restriction—and these oscillations are what make history interesting. What MacCulloch wants is for modern readers to put down their certainty, even if they're not entirely won over by his wide-ranging claims: 'What passes for theological and ethical reflection in many Christian quarters is an exercise in ignoring the reality of present imbalances that disfigure divine creation, usually through strident repetition of old certainties,' he writes. It's not that queer Christians were actually a commonplace, frequently accepted group, but that even small deviations from doctrine are instructive for brokering more fruitful encounters between religious bodies and those who seem categorically outside them. If some issues that now appear settled were once up for debate, might the floor be reopened to consider modern perspectives? Read: The greatest contribution of Christianity MacCulloch takes on both Protestant and Catholic history with bombast, stretching his theories thin across thousands of years. This is always a danger with wide historical surveys, and MacCulloch's final section, on contemporary Church history—passages on the Catholic Church's sexual-abuse scandals, the Gay Christian Movement's fight for acceptance, and the relationship between homophobia and colonialism—ends up feeling rushed as a result. But when MacCulloch does take the time to hook into case studies of Christians bucking consensus, he provides moving stories of how believers can let their guard down and move through the world with humility. In one chapter, MacCulloch gives a stunning example of a woman who transcended prejudice: the American televangelist Tammy Faye Messner. In 1985, years after she became famous as a conservative talk-show host, Messner staged an interview with Steve Pieters, a minister of a gay-affirming congregation who was dying of AIDS. Her 'tearful acceptance of Pieters on screen as a fellow Christian' was momentous for many (and enraging for others). By the time she died, in 2007, her first husband had gone to prison for fraud, and she'd become a gay icon. 'When we lost everything,' she told Larry King, 'it was the gay people that came to the rescue, and I will always love them for that.' Such grace, when given, can illuminate the question of how to traverse difference instead of merely quashing it. Although historically the Church may bend toward definitive stances and protocols, many believers are simply getting on with their dutiful prayers. Resolving tangled questions over how sex and gender fit within a religious framework may be a losing battle—one littered with examples of both fundamental ire and liberal wishful thinking—but the fight itself contains many surprising interludes.
