WHY can't I nip out and mug an old dear? Or slip on a pair of the wife's tights - over the face, that is - and de-money-bag my local sub-postmaster?

And what's to stop me spicing a Saturday Message with four-letter words and a hint of blasphemy?

"Pull your self together, man!" you might reply. "You're the vicar!"

True. But just who does decide what's right and wrong?

It's been our race's agony since Adam. Every tribe, empire, religion, dictator and democracy has pondered why we help old ladies across the road instead of running them over.

"It's because we're basically nice," says one, conveniently forgetting man's inhumanity to man.

"You'll get caught!" says another. But half our young thugs get nicked and still they mug and maim.

"Do as you would be done by!"- The golden rule has its points but what of the sadomasochist or the nutter who bashes out brains for fun?

"Go for what makes the most happy." -- But who's to judge? Who can weigh happiness? Everybody high on pot? Is that good?

How about swapping the wife/hubby like we do with old bangers?

"Let the Church decide!" -- Ooooh! Bad idea! We're no more perfect than politicians, cardsharps or any other group of fallible humans.

"Let's all do what's right in our own eyes." - Very 2002-ish. Nicely liberal, but isn't that just the long way of spelling anarchy? Anyway, those with clout and shout often end up bossing the weak and meek.

Finally, comes a lone echo of wisdom -- "Why not a referee from outside the game of life?" Somebody who cares enough to give us a few loving commandments?

Now, doesn't that sound divine?

The Rev Kevin Logan,

Christ Church,

Accrington