Well said, Archbishop

...and that's not a headline you'll often see on this blog. But the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, has actually said something quite sensible. In his Easter ecumenical letter, he draws attention to the very real persecution of Christians in some parts of the world, describing the 'butchery, intimidation...and harrassment' suffered by believers in places such as Egypt, Mosul, Nigeria and Zimbabwe. This continuing reality, said Williams, should remind Christians who live in 'more comfortable environments' of the need 'to keep our own fears in perspective': 'It is all too easy, even in comfortable and relatively peaceful societies, for us to become consumed with anxiety about the future of Church and society'.

Coming only days after senior Church of England figures, including Williams' predecessor George Carey, sent a letter to the Sunday Telegraph complaining that Christians in Britain were being discriminated against, the Archbishop's statement is seen by some as a rebuke to religious leaders who encourage this kind of persecution complex and victim mentality. Instead, citing the example of murdered Salvadorean archbishop Oscar Romero, Williams suggested high-profile Christians would do better to use their influence to defend the rights of the poor and campaign for political change.

So two cheers for the Archbishop of Canterbury. There'll be a third cheer when he follows the logic of his own thinking, joining the dots to realise that almost all the examples of real persecution that he cites happened in countries dominated by one faith and where there is no separation between religious and secular law. Whereas what he describes as more 'comfortable' environments for believers tend to be those in which liberal secularism holds sway. Perhaps he'll remember that next time he's tempted to call for the introduction of Sharia in Britain.

Celebrity mountain climbing

There are red noses on cars, the children have paid a pound not to wear school uniform, and lots of people are doing silly things in the street. Yes, it's Comic Relief day again. Sharing a house with two teenagers means that the raucous background to our early morning routine is Radio 1's Chris Moyles show, so this week we've been following the progress of Chris and the other celebs as they climbed Mount Kilimanjaro to raise money for the cause.

Last night, we watched the BBC documentary of their exploits. It was an impressive feat, and you can't deny the courage of those who took part, or the genuineness of their commitment to the charities they were supporting. The programme forced you to view this motley collection of presenters, DJs and performers, many of whom you might previously have  dismissed as superficial or egotistical, in a somewhat different light. Moyles, for example, whose endless bloke-down-the-pub patter (and reluctance to play any actual music) normally irritates me no end, came across as genuinely funny and warmhearted, while Cheryl Cole continued her transition in the public's imagination from not-very-talented and quick-tempered reality show winner to beautiful-but-kindly big sister who can remain radiant at 15,000 feet. And who would have thought that 'our very own, the gorgeous Alesha Dixon' (copyright Brucie, 2008) had such a filthy cackle of a laugh?

At the same time, the documentary included rather too many scenes of well-dressed and well-fed celebrities visiting clinics to emote over dying children, in which the African patients and staff had mostly silent, passive parts. And the shots of the famous participants doing the obligatory 'tearing up' , as they watched similarly upsetting scenes on film, imported the shallow emotionality of the X-Factor, entirely inappropriately.

At times, I wondered what had happened to the determination of those alternative comedians who set up Comic Relief, to do things differently: to raise money in a way that didn't objectify the recipients and instead saw them as active participants in achieving social justice. Couldn't Africans have been involved in this project on a more equal footing, rather than as objects of tearful sympathy, or as the team of porters making sure that the celebrities' portaloos were erected before they reached camp? And couldn't they have found a few more black celebrities to take part (Alesha was the only one), to remove the sense of these few heroic white people going to great lengths to help all those poor black people?

As I say, none of this is to detract from the achievement of those who took part in this or other Comic Relief exploits today, or from the very real good that the money raised will do. A reminder that, away from all the celebrity gushing, Comic Relief is still funding some challenging and important work, can be found in this  article by Johann Hari.