No season’s cheer at council

Two thousand years after a star came to rest over a stable in Bethlehem, some people are still woefully ignorant of the Christmas message.

What else could explain the latest curious twists in the tale of the cross at Dudley Wood Methodist Church?When the cross was erected earlier this year Dudley Council said it needed planning permission on the grounds that it was an advertisement.

After the case attracted national publicity - and ridicule - the council has had second thoughts. It has now told the church that permission might be granted if the cross were erected as a memorial.

You do not need a degree in theology to see why this suggestion is so deeply offensive to the Christian worshippers at this little Black Country chapel.

Christianity is a faith founded on the belief in eternal life. The cross is the symbol of resurrection and rebirth. To ask a Christian to describe the cross as a memorial is like asking a Muslim to describe the Koran as just another book.

It is crass, insensitive and plain ignorant. The council says it is merely following national planning guidelines. It looks more like it is chasing its own tail. First, the cross was an advertisement. Now, it is a memorial. No wonder the worshippers are confused and angry.

To their credit, they have decided to raise £75 for a formal planning application.

In the spirit of Christmas goodwill, we wish them every success. And we will be looking out for any bah-humbug councillors who vote against this inspirational symbol of Christian belief.

We’ve lost that winning feeling

AND so it’s over. The dream of England’s stunning 2005 Ashes victory is effortlessly wiped away in a 3-0 trouncing by the Australians.

Maybe things might have turned out differently if Monty Panesar had been playing from the outset. But the plain fact is that when it comes to cricket, England and Australia are more than a world apart.

For Australians, raised in a hale and healthy outdoor lifestyle, cricket is a cradle-to-grave obsession played with ferocious athleticism and a passionate thirst for victory.

Here in England, the relentless selling of school playing fields and the dumbing-down of competitive sport have created a generation which doesn’t even know what victory feels like.

Away from a few public schools and county grounds, cricket is a summer pastime in which taking part is just as important as winning. More to the point, it is not our national game. Natural athletes who could trounce any Australian side are lured away from cricket to the fame and enormous fortune of that all-pervading national obsession, football.

The tragedy is that we’re not even very good at world-class football.