The Last Straw/Frank McNallyI was at a church service recently and, because I was covering it as a journalist, I stood at the back. As ever, there was no shortage of company there. And in a refrain that has been part of religious ceremonies for as long as I can remember, the priest urged those standing to come forward, saying: "There's plenty of room at the front."
As ever, there was no response. A lot of things have changed since I first visited a church, but the front pews are still as hard to promote as obstructed-view seats in a theatre. For this, religion only has itself to blame. The average church-goer - Catholic anyway - doesn't know much of the Bible by heart. But certain lines stick. And few passages have stuck like the one about the pharisee and the tax collector.
In case you've forgotten, the pharisee occupied a prominent position in the temple, like the dirty big hypocrite he was (Luke, 18). By contrast, the tax collector "stood some distance away, not daring to raise his eyes to Heaven". The moral was that those who exalted themselves would be humbled, and vice-versa.
This was in keeping with the even more controversial church policy of rewarding reformed sinners over and above those who had never sinned. Thus, in an even more influential parable, the prodigal son was feted, while the good son came across as a bit of a whinger.
I know these messages made a profound impression on me at a young age, and others like me. When I was growing up, there were even men in our town - they were invariably men - who were so humble that, unlike the tax collector, they wouldn't enter the church grounds at all. They attended Mass by standing across the road outside, leaning against a wall, and taking their caps off whenever they heard the bell ring.
I thought that level of humility was a bit ostentatious myself. So as a general rule, I settled for standing at the back, unless there was no standing-room, in which case I might take one of the rearmost seats. The habit was so ingrained that even at my own wedding I was reluctant to sit at the front.
Occasionally, some of those at the back would respond to the priest's invitation, and allow themselves to be bumped up to business class. These were usually women, and for all we knew they might have had sound medical reasons for needing a seat - it wasn't for us to judge. But the back was a comfortable place, and this was at least in part because of a belief that come the glorious day, we'd be okay, and the people up the front would fry.
We live in more secular times now. But the influence of religion is surely the only possible explanation for some of the latest developments in reality television. Certainly, TV viewers seem to be choosing the company of sinners like never before. This week alone saw Monica Lewinsky make her small-screen début in the US as presenter of a series called Mr Personality. Better known for her role in the 1998 saga, "Mr President", the former White House intern is attracting rave reviews for a dating show in which a female is wooed by several male competitors. The novelty is that the men are masked and so, like Bill "Big-nose" Clinton, must rely on the power of their personalities.
This side of the Atlantic, the post-trial repeat of the Who Wants to be a Millionaire? cheating episode attracted the biggest audience since the funeral of Princess Diana. Separately, the couple convicted of the fraud went on telly to protest their innocence, in the most obvious show of sincerity since Pinocchio told the blue fairy he'd lost his money on the way to school. Fraudsters or not, they look set to make a fortune from TV appearances, ads for cough medicine, and so on.
Meanwhile, back in the US, O.J. Simpson (the former sportsman and actor who was cleared of murdering his wife and who, in the interests of justice, we must assume is innocent, even though he's as guilty as hell) is to get his own reality TV series. Admittedly, according to his lawyer, he doesn't know anything about it - it seems the producers are constructing the show from out-takes of his public appearances. But even so.
When a sinner repents these days, great is the rejoicing, and even greater are the potential TV ratings. The big difference with TV is that repentance is optional. And the other difference is that, when the sinners perform for us, there's never any room at the front.