Foto: Erik Holsvik, RA

Mørkemenn er ikke det de en gang var. Eller?

Torsdag morgen var jeg på vei til flyplassen. I bilen hørte jeg et intervju med Stavanger KrFs Bjarne Bjelland. NRK-journalisten spurte Bjelland: «Mange anser muligens deg for å være en mørkemann. Hva tenker du om det?»

Hans svar fikk meg til å måpe; «Jeg anser mørkemann for å være en hedersbetegnelse!»

De to foregående dagene har det vært en konferanse i Oslo, nemlig Oslo Symposium. Her var det innledere som Siv Jensen, Erna Solberg, Knut Arild Hareide og Hanne Nabintu Hærland. Konferansen har to mål: stanse «avkristningen» av Norge og kaste den rød-grønne regjeringen.

På Vestlandet, eller Bibelbelte om du vil, finner vi en del som kan passe inn i kategorien mørkemenn. Etter hvert med at kvinners status stadig ble bedre har vi også fått flere mørkedamer også.

Jeg har et godt forhold til biskopen i Stavanger, Erling Pettersen. Ved flere anledninger har jeg hatt gode samtaler med han, og jeg anser han for å være en reflektert og tolerant biskop. Men hans liberale holdninger har møtt stort sinne i enkelte av de religiøsekretsene, da særlig med tanke på Carissimi-prestene.

De vil ikke ha ham som biskop fordi han aksepterer kjærligheten. Og de kristne som går til kamp mot kjærligheten bør vurdere å tolke Bibelen inn i vår moderne tid.

Bjarne Bjelland var den eneste representanten som stemte for å avslutte handlingsplanen mot diskriminering av homofile og bifile. Vi vet at unge homofile er overrepresentert på selvmordsstatistiken – allikevel vil ikke mørkemannen Bjelland gi dem en utstrakt hånd. Han bærer tittelen med stolthet, til skam for oss andre.

En av mine favoritt-tv-serier West Wing har en episode hvor denne problematikken løftes. Det finnes et youtube-klipp av dette, men her kommer dialogen:

“Excuse me, doctor,” the president said to her. “It’s good to have you here. Are you an M.D.?”
“A Ph.D.,” she retorted smartly.
“In psychology?” he pursued.
“No, sir,” she said.
“Theology?”
“No.”
“Social work?”
“I have a Ph.D. in English literature,” she replied.
“I’m asking,” continued the president, “because on your show people call in for advice and you go by the title ‘doctor,’ and I didn’t know if maybe your listeners were confused by that and assumed you had advanced training in psychology, theology, or health care.”
“I don’t believe they are confused. No, sir,” she responded.
“Good,” said the president, raising his voice sarcastically. “I like your show. I like how you call homosexuality an abomination.”
“I don’t say homosexuality is an abomination, Mr. President,” she replied haughtily. “The Bible does.”
“Yes, it does!” he shouted. “Leviticus 18:22.” The president was just warming up. “I wanted to ask you a couple of questions while I had you here. I’m interested in selling my youngest daughter into slavery as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. She’s a Georgetown sophomore, speaks fluent Italian, always cleared the table when it was her turn. What would a good price for her be?”
After a brief moment, he continued: “While thinking about that, can I ask another? My chief of staff, Leo McGarry, insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly says he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself or is it OK to call the police?”
Now on a roll, the president steamed on triumphantly. “Here’s one that’s really important, ‘cause we’ve got a lot of sports fans in this town. Touching the skin of a dead pig makes one unclean, Leviticus 11:7. If they promise to wear gloves, can the Washington Redskins still play football? Can Notre Dame? Can West Point?
“Does the whole town really have to be together to stone my brother John for planting different crops side by side?
“Can I burn my mother in a small family gathering for wearing garments made from two different threads?
“Think about those questions, would you? One last thing. While you may be mistaking this for your monthly meeting of the ignorant tight-a** club, in this building when the president stands, nobody sits.”