Not even as a failure had my misadventure been complete.

My walk had yielded several photos of the mountain I had wanted to climb with which I was pleased. And, the sunset had been—as is the custom of sunsets—faultless.

But… to every silver lining, there is a cloud, and that cloud was now on my mind. My car was in urgent need of liberation from the clutches of the desert.

I took to pondering over solutions to my predicament. I first went over all secular options I could think of. But having exhausted these, for the briefest of time, my mind turned to religion.

Contrary to the fundamental doctrine of my upbringing, and for the first time in my life, I found myself coveting my neighbour’s ox.

I did not wish to lure his wife from him nor to dispossess him of his house, donkey or any anything else he might hold title to. And, I did not envy him his servants, whether male, female or gender-fluid. But his ox now, that might have been useful.

Some might at this stage point out that I had arrived at holy scripture and livestock solutions rather too quickly, bypassing more conventional means of car-rescue. To understand my train of thought, it is useful to know a little about my many and varied failings as a human being.

I find those solutions best that allow my role in the making of the underlying problem to remain obscure. Such solutions can by careful choice of words, be moulded into triumphs of human ingenuity, rather than conclusive evidence of an unsound mind.

On reflection, however, there seemed to be no way out of this proverbial and literal hole that excluded seeking help from others. My self-preservation instincts pulled rank on my pride.

I sought in vain for mitigating factors in which I could embalm the lacerated remains of my dignity. But, as hard as I thought, I could think of nothing to justify my folly.

Back on the main road, I stopped an ageing pickup containing eight(!) non-judgemental locals who were well-accustomed to the feeble-minded eccentricities of tourists.

By their inherent goodwill, brought forward by twenty Jordanian Dinars, my car was restored to the paved surface to which it belonged, and I with it.

And then the starts came out.

Eitt av dei store vegvala i livet: gudsteneste (til høgre) eller flakedans (til venstre) – frelse eller fortaping? Teke under friluftshelga i Hyen, sommaren 2007. Foto: Asgjerd Bergheim (http://asgjerd.bergheim.dk).

The Bishops Meeting, part of the management of the Church of Norway, has decided to alter future translations of the Holy Bible into Norwegian by excluding the word “tukt” (Norwegian for punishment/torment). The decision was made unanimously. It doesn’t say if God was consulted on the matter, but we must assume that He, like most Norwegians, is a democrat and will yield to the oppinion of the majority.

The background for “overruling” the word of God is a request from the Norwegian Commissioner for Children in the interest of avoiding child abuse from being exercised in the name of Christianity. A worthy cause!

It is however interesting that the Church of Norway sees the Holy Bible, and thus the word of God, as being subject to democracy. Many Norwegians will claim to be “personal Christians”, believing in their own custom subset of the Holy Bible, omitting those parts that are either too difficult (resurrection) or to uncomfortable (sin/punishment) to deal with.

Though “personal Christians” claim to believe in God, it remains to be seen whether God actually believes in them! We shall never know, as once they find out they probably won’t be blogging any more!