went before us that are sometimes beyond our control.’
‘Is gluttony a sin?’ I ask.
‘Yes,’ says John.
I point to his belly, which rises into view from beneath his shirt like a mountain summoned by God.
‘You’ve got some repenting to do, then.’
He replies slowly, ‘I’ve got a thyroid problem.’
I close my eyes and try to absorb the irritation.
‘Come on, John,’ I say. ‘Isn’t this all just … just …
stupid
?’
He looks baffled. He crosses his legs. I go on.
‘What I mean is, you claim there is a legitimate scientific theory that says there’s a magic superhero who has created a planet full of people to tell him he’s great and who get tortured by demons if they’re naughty.’
‘I don’t think it’s stupid,’ he says. ‘You have to have penalties for those who do injustice.’
‘It’s not just the hell bit,’ I say. ‘It’s also the egotistical superhero.’
‘Stop there,’ he says, crossly. ‘You’re attributing your human nature to God. There’s no reason to accuse him of being egotistical.’
‘What’s his motive, then?’
‘Why does he need a motive?’
I have a sudden and overwhelming urge to whimper. What can you do when common sense doesn’t work? When reason’s bullets turn out to be made of smoke?
‘When I sat there listening to you today going on about gay people,’ I tell him, ‘I thought you were evil.’
‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ he says. ‘It was tough stuff.’
‘But can’t you see, the people you’re attacking – the pro-equality lobby – sincerely want to make the world a kinder place? If everyonedecided you were right, there’d be a genocide against gay people.’
‘Okay then,’ he says. ‘Let me make a prediction too, based on creation. The end result of all this will be an
increase
in turbulence. Homosexuals will get into a position where they’ll start to impose their values.’
‘We’ll be forced to be gay by gays?’ I say.
‘Yep,’ he replies. ‘That’s where it will go.’
‘And do you seriously believe that acceptance of homosexuality will lead to an acceptance of paedophilia and necrophilia?’
‘Even in the churches.’
‘Priests having sex with dead people?’
‘That’s right.’
‘But, John,’ I say, ‘the view that homosexuality is a sin is illogical, because it’s not a choice. It’s a state of being that you’re born into. You can’t be tempted to be a homosexual. I’ve been tempted to steal, I’ve been tempted to lie, but I’ve never been tempted to kiss a man.’
‘They have made a choice, whether it’s paedophilia or homosexuality or necrophilia. They are all in a rainbow of that which is an incorrect choice about sex.’
I tell John that I am completely convinced that he is wrong. Apparently, though, I only believe this because I have been fooled by Satan. ‘The Bible warns that the Devil is a liar and is out to trick us,’ he explains. ‘When God says something’s wrong, the Devil’s out to do anything to convince us it’s right.’
‘But if you follow that logic,’ I say, ‘any thought we have that goes against the Bible is the Devil. So we’re not allowed to think for ourselves.’
‘We are allowed to think for ourselves,’ he says. ‘Your first step is thinking that God’s wiser than me so I will accept what he says, even if I don’t understand it.’
This, it seems to me, is a remarkable admission for a man who considers himself to be a scientist.
‘So that’s all the thinking for yourself you’re allowed?’ I say. ‘The decision to believe everything God says?’
‘Yes.’
*
Two weeks later, I discover that the only thing I know for sure about evolution is completely wrong. I find this out in a back office at Sydney’s Australian Museum, the place I have come to for the end of my story. Playing the white knight, the truth teller, the good guy is Nathan Lo, a thirty-five-year-old doctor of molecular evolution. Lo is going to assess