Well, the answer is Obesity, the only one of these conditions not considered to be a mental disorder. Yet as Jenny, a psychologist who specialises in eating disorders told me, 'No one is 24 stone because they're happy.'

The UK is now the most obese country in Europe yet there's a sense of paralysis about treatment. Other disorders are more clearly defined with psychologists like Jenny on hand.

There's anorexia, whereby the individual keeps weight down by starving themselves or exercising excessively. About 1 in 250 women and 1 in 2000 men experience this condition.

Bulimia is the control of weight through binge eating followed by deliberate vomiting or use of laxatives. This is five times more common than anorexia and 90% of sufferers are female.

Binge eating, when someone feels compelled to over-eat to an abnormal degree, is equally prevalent among males and females and most likely between the ages of 30 and 40.

Unhappiness with home is usually in the background of these secretive practices. Most professionals agree that anorexia is a controlling response to perceived control at home. There's much we can't control in life but we can order the food we put in our mouths and so the teenager takes back control.

And then there's the perfectionism. Jenny told me that anorexia is particularly common among students at Oxford and Cambridge universities, who may come from homes where pressure to succeed is more virulent. It's a form of self-harm and a source of shame but it's also an addiction.

But what to do with obesity? It's not considered a mental disorder but is a growing problem in every way. Some think, like Basil Fawlty and the war, that we shouldn't mention it. In new advice from the NHS, doctors have been told not to use the word 'obese' for fear of upsetting patients. Instead, they're to encourage people towards a 'healthier weight'. The document warns: 'The term 'obesity' may be unhelpful. While some people like to 'hear it like it is', others may consider it derogatory.'

Ironically, the report is called: 'Obesity: Working with local communities.'

Obesity is both a new problem and a world problem. Statistics for the condition didn't exist 50 years ago and Henry 8th just considered himself a fine figure of a man. But in the developed world, fast food, labour-saving devices, cars, sedentary jobs and computer screens have changed the global shape of things - and people.

And Tam Fry of the National Obesity Forum believes it's the time for tough love. ''Obesity' is a medical description,' he says. 'There is a defined point at which being overweight becomes a serious medical issue.'

It's also a spiritual issue. Ultimately, all eating disorders, from my grabby greed upwards, arise from disordered inner space. We use food as a weapon of control against unhappy space within. We starve it or stuff it until one day, we come home to it.

It's a couple of hours through the East Anglian countryside,interrupted briefly by Ipswich.

Other people's phone calls can be irritating; but sometimes, like Foyles War, they're an intriguing drama. Like the phone conversation that follows, which took place between Colchester and Forest Gate stations.

We only hear one side of the dialogue of course. But she spoke very loudly so everyone could at least hear her side of the story...

'No don't wait in for me...no, just do what you were...yep, just do whatever you're doing...yeh, that's fine, that's fine...no that's fine, I mean I'll be back around 8.30, but I can easily find something...well, it doesn't matter anyway, just do whatever you're...you're going out?...no, that's fine, as I say I'll be back around 8.30, not late, but you don't have to...if you're going out for a meal or something, that's...you're going to Graham's?...why are you going to Grahams?...no, that's fine, you must do as you...I mean, it's only that my mum was coming, that's the only reason...sorry, I'm confused, you don't have to...no, if you want to go to Grahams, that's...you probably want a room of your own, bit of peace...no, it's your choice, if you want to go to to Grahams, that's cool, I'm just saying that you don't have to, its just my mum, nothing more...and I'll be back around 8.30, so...no and maybe you want a room to yourself for a few days and that's...no, you must do what you want, that's what I'm saying, that's my point...I mean if you want to go to Graham's...perhaps you want a bit of peace...no, fine, fine, I mean I'm confused but...no, that's fine because its your choice, and I'm cool with that...if you want to go to Graham's, it could be...yep...yep...fine...right...yep, goodbye.'

And of course the whole carriage wanted to ask: so did they go to Graham's?

And would you have done?

The promise of a room to myself might have swung it for me...

While sometimes helpful, never rely on directions from others. Learn to read your own map.

Rest and treat wounds as they appear, allow time for them to heal before moving on.

Be kind to those you meet along the way.

Do not fear shadows, they are always bigger than the figures they portray.

When facing a steep climb, it is helpful to leave everything you are carrying at the bottom.

Share fire and food with others, but do not mistake their journey for your own.

Travel light, pick up and put down things as needed along the way.

Sometimes it is good to question 'What's the point in principles' yours as well as others.

Do not be afraid of walking through the Garden of Sadness, each allowed tear helps you to heal.

Travellers who are serious about completing their journey learn to embrace all weathers.

Stop; take time to enjoy the views. There is much to admire.

Rest, answers needed for the journey's challenges, often arise during quiet and peaceful times.

Notice the things that cause you to stumble and fall, then avoid stepping into their trap.

Creation will speak to you; use all your senses to listen for her words of wisdom.

There may be many miles to go but each step brings you closer to home.

Acknowledge that at times the journey has been difficult. Learn to listen to yourself and others without judgement.

Trust the path, help and guidance will always find the truthful traveller.

And finally remember

Different paths lead to different places, but all paths fully explored will lead you home.

The loss of true feeling leads to the loss of true self.

We live from pretend feelings which make pretend people of us.

So in times of quiet or withdrawal, it can be helpful to read something; but only if we are soon putting it down because it has brought us into engagement with a feeling that feels true.

From a true feeling acknowledged arises a true person able to express it.

There are no other paths to your authentic self.

It was after he'd lost the London Mayoral election.

As many will know, he's been a very political animal for many years fighting a particular corner with a particular goal. But not now. This is the first week of his life since he can remember when he has no meetings.

Basically, he's retired. And the change?

My friend said that in the interview he seemed like a different man, a more interesting and likeable man, one free from the shackles of a particular agenda and able to speak honsetly at last. It was as though he was born again.

I suspect we're not so different. We spend alot of time speaking on behalf of our organisation, our religion, our politics, our family, our self-image, our way of seeing things - and with each such identification, with each party line, we walk a little further from honesty and the real.

Ken Livingstone in this interview spoke as a free man; it's the calling of us all.

It was entitled, 'Low-effort thought promotes political conservatism'.

The authors conducted four related studies, placing their subjects under the stresses of alcohol intake, distractions, time shortage and the request for first impressions.

In each study, the less effort given to thinking led to the endorsement of conservative values, defined by the researchers as 'a greater perception of personal responsibility and self-interest, an easy acceptance of heirarchy and a preference for the status quo.

The number of students participating was low, around 50, but the results are apparently consistent with other studies. The authors conclude:

'Together, these data suggest that political conservatism may be a process consequence of low-effort thought; when effortful, deliberate thought is disengaged, endorsement of conservative ideology follows.'

As slogans and sound bites thrive on low thought, low effort response, we must suppose that the Right will always win the slogan campaign.

Labour's sound bite will need to be something like: 'Stop drinking, put away the distractions, take your time and think carefully before voting.'

But it's not very catchy is it?

'More, Simon, more! You're making sense at last.'

I've had technical problems; indeed I still do. And technical problems with my computer are my particular version of hell fire.

For good or ill, a huge amount of my life flows through this machine. Yet I'm an utter numpty in the face of technical break down.

The phrase 'Fighting with my weak arm' comes to mind.

Along the way some experts have been helpful, others, an (expensive) nightmare. (Why are you not surprised?)

One immediate consequence is that all e mails I've received in the past have been wiped, and the e mail addresses with them.

Agghh! And thrice Aggghh!

This means that I now don't have yours.

If you would like me to have it, and particularly if you are down to attend one of my retreats in the future, could you please make contact immediately at:

simonparke@live.co.uk

I'll then have your e mail address for future contact.

If you don't make contact, I will not be able to contact you.

Thank you.

In the meantime, we shall be brave together. Hell fire varies for us all, but our courage is a unifying constant.

And a wonder of the world.

He holds her facing out towards the world; her back is in close contact with his chest so she is feeling his warmth and heartbeat. Her little arms reach out to explore and touch the faces of those who stop to talk to her; she often smiles in response to the smiles given.

This is her first experience of a family gathering of this size, so much busyness and noise. From her safe place she watches intently, taking in information, absorbing all these different experiences.
Then a new set of arms lift her away from her father. A few seconds and then panic registers on her little face, her features crumple and she begins to cry. Soon she is back in the arms of her Father. Reconnected and safe, her body relaxes and her smile is back.
Everything is as it needs to be and all is well.

I am watching a child with a healthy attachment relying on her parent to soothe and regulate her emotions. He is tuned into her needs and responds to them instinctively. It is wonderful to watch.

In the strong, safe arms of her father, this baby can relate to the world with confidence, trusting that nothing will harm her.

I am interested because as adults, many people still often respond to new situations in the same way as this 6 month old child, looking to others to regulate their feelings of panic and fear.

Emotionally crippled at a young age, they were not helped to gradually and safely become independent, they did not learn the skills needed to be able to step away from the 'feeling' (anger, fear, jealousy etc.) and calm themselves down before responding to the situation. So they live with a legacy of always reacting as if these feelings are in control instead of just passing through.

Emotional abandonment or over protection will both have a huge effect on how well a person can cope with the ups and downs of normal life.

As children we need support to grow strong, we need to be encouraged to stretch ourselves and to take calculated risks. We sometimes need to fall and discover it is ok; we can pick ourselves up and carry on. We need to be helped to learn to think for ourselves and discover what we can do to make situations better. But to be able to do all these things we need guidance and good role models.

Caring and responsive parenting is the key to emotional health; Children learn to become healthily independent from a place of love and safety.

Cards come and go and soon this one will. It was given to me after a recent retreat and has sat with me for a few weeks.

It says 'Many paths, one source.'

I'm thinking of the many paths now as people make their weary way home or draw breath after the day that's been.

So many stories. Your story?

But one source.

Something shared, like those around a fire.

Time now to return to the source, lest we forget and become stupid in our fragmented imaginings.

Many paths, one source.

The rich are always with us and particularly now. The recent publication of the Sunday Times rich list, the annual drool-fest for the middle classes came shortly after Nadine Dorries called David Cameron and George Osborne 'two arrogant posh boys' with 'no passion to understand the lives of others.' This criticism stings as a double-dip recession takes hold and figures reveal the gap between Britain's highest and lowest paid workers widened last year. The bottom tenth saw their pay rise 0.1% while the top tenth climbed 18 times that amount. The trickle down theory in economics, born in America's Great Depression, doesn't have many followers these days. Create money and it doesn't trickle down to the poor; it trickles up to the rich.

Or to those who have, more will be given.

The rich come out fighting. They tell us how hard they worked to get where they are and encourage us to do likewise: 'Work hard like me and you'll reap the rewards!' But the girl in Taiwan working 15 hours a day to make trainers for the west will always be poor. Being rich may involve hard work but it's mainly about luck as the billionaire investor Warren Buffet acknowledges. 'If you stick me down in the middle of Bangladesh or Peru or some place, you find out how much this talent is going to produce in the wrong kind of soil ... I work in a market system that happens to reward what I do very well - disproportionately well.'

The rich never imagine themselves to be so. 'I have money worries too, you know,' they say. 'Once we'd paid our children's boarding school fees, the nanny and the gardener, plus the Tuscany trips obviously, we seriously wondered whether a third car was absolutely necessary. As it turned out it was but like everyone else, we have to keep a very close eye on our budget.'

These lines only just get into the 'parody' category. Some claim we're biologically programmed not to notice our advantages to keep us striving - or oblivious, such a vital anaesthetic.

One blogger responded to the Rich List like this: 'You won't find me on the rich list, but believe me I am rich! I have clean drinking water at the turn of a tap; I have hot water for washing; I have shoes; in my kitchen there is food; my bed is soft and clean. I was a taught to read when I was five so now I can effortlessly access books and newspapers. I am rich!'

Heart-warming and accurate words so we'll not be bitter. But neither will we worship the small god of social mobility. 'We do not accept that ours will ever be a nation of haves and have-nots,' says Mitch Daniels, the Governor of Indiana. 'We must always be a nation of haves and soon-to-haves.'

So inspiring! So hopeful! And so untrue.

It helps when we notice our assumptions
And see them for what they are
Of course they may turn out to be right
But more than likely
They will turn out to be on the long line between wrong and right
And it is always good to remember
That our right is only a judgement on a certain situation
We tend to firstly always see things from our own point of view.

It helps when we accept that the behaviours of others
That upset or anger us are often our actions too
Depending on the circumstances
We are also capable of all things
This may not be a comfortable place to sit
As at first the truth often disturbs
But the truth also always brings healing and hope
Truth is the friend that sometimes speaks
Of that which we do not wish to hear
Truth is ambitious for our health and our spiritual growth.

It helps when we notice and speak our own nonsense
It helps when we laugh at our own inconsistences
It helps when we cry our own pain
It helps when we accept our own humanity.

If we can accept our own humanity
And learn to love ourselves just the way we are
Then one day we may be able to accept and love others
Just the way they are
In the warmth of love and acceptance
Change can be contemplated
And inner beauty can break free.

Meanwhile we do what we can
And not what we can't.

Stuff various.

And stuff can stuff us good and proper.

Stuff to make you weep, frankly.

So when it's too stuffy, we unstuff ourselves.

De-stuffify, to use technical language.

That is, we allow stuff to float off down the river, without chasing after it.

'Go stu-uff, go stu-uff!'

We say 'Hello stuff, how are you stuff?' and then 'Goodbye stuff'.

Because stuff happens but can't be carried.

Noticed but not carried or we become totally unfresh; in other words, really stuffy.

Stuff said, I think.

'Would you have yourself as a friend?'

Someone was saying yesterday that Simon Cowell obviously would - 'he even has mirrors on the inside of his glasses' they cruelly - though possibily truthfully - observed.

But beyond such celebrity chit-chat, one of my experiences of using the Enneagram over the years is that people very rarely choose a partner who is the same number as them.

The Enneagram describes nine ways of being, nine responses to our past and it is these which define our particular number. (Though not our health within that number - that's our daily journey.)

Statistically, again from my experience, people are most likely to choose a number next to them on the enneagram circle to be their partner. This will mean they share certain psychological features, but are different enough to make them feel interesting.

There's clearly an in-built sense in us that someone too like ourselves is rather claustrophobic; that we need to be drawn out of our habitual reactions rather than confirmed in them.

So its a day for noting who our friends are, and discerning who draws good things out of us.

Of course, its not really about numbers in the end, but about our and their psychological and spiritual health.

Perhaps you would have yourself as a friend, and perhaps you'd be a brilliant friend. Quite possible.

Or perhaps you'd be a disaster.

So would you have yourself as a friend?

If not, skip gaily away to more intriguing things.

Lauren is crying in frustration. Now in her mid-thirties, she left home many years ago and travelled far but neither time nor mileage seem to have made any difference. By phone and e mail, Lauren is still bombarded with demand and reprimand by her mother and it's upsetting her. When she recently refused Skype contact, her mother felt slighted and was furious. Lauren regarded it as one invasion too many and knew she had to stand firm; yet still felt guilty about her negative feelings towards her mother.

As we reflected on the situation, we saw that Lauren was playing the kind adult to her childish parent but it was hard:
'I'm an adult and I've left home,' said Lauren, who is a successful PR executivein the north of England. 'But when she makes contact, I might as well be seven and still trying to please her.'

Families, like the poor, are always with us. But just how honest are we about them? And what are the family values worth fighting for?

Unlike previous generations of politicians, the present crop must have a view on family life. David Cameron places great emphasis on the family and sees marriage as the heart of it. At the Welsh Conservative Conference in 2009 he said: 'We want to see a more responsible society, where people behave in a decent and civilised way, where they understand their obligations to others, to their neighbours, to their country and above all, to their family. Families are the most important institution in our society. We have to do everything in our power to strengthen them.'

At his party conference in October, 2011 he said: 'Marriage is not just a piece of paper. It pulls couples together through the ebb and flow of life. It gives children stability. And it says powerful things about what we should value. So yes, we will recognise marriage in the tax system.'

His coalition partner, Nick Clegg only half agrees. 'Getting married,' he said 'is probably the best thing that ever happened to me. But as a liberal I think there are limits to how the state and government should try to micromanage or incentivise people's own behaviour in their private lives.'

Earlier in the day, in a speech to the Demos think-tank, he'd said: 'We should not take a particular version of the family institution, such as the 1950s model of suit-wearing, bread-winning dad and aproned, home-making mother - and try and preserve it in aspic. That's why open society liberals and big society conservatives will take a different view on a tax break for marriage.'

Ed Miliband also opposes the pro-marriage stance of Cameron. At a London event in May, 2011 he insisted that marriage was not a crucial part of family life. 'I am pro-commitment,' he said, 'but I think that unlike David Cameron, I am not going to say that those families that aren't married are automatically less stable than those families that are.'

The leftward-leaning Labour MP Diane Abbott, however, is concerned about what she perceives as a lack of interest in 'family' in her party: 'Some of my colleagues are skeptical of Ian Duncan Smith's family narrative,' she says, 'and I share that up to a point. I'm a single mum... and don't want to feel second class because of it... but we shouldn't abandon talking about the family to the right and extremist religious nut jobs.'

Off the record, another parliamentary source in the Labour party went even further when reflecting on the summer riots: 'We've got to do police but family is equally relevant and if we don't tackle that we will be out of touch. This is not just a post-riots issue, it goes much deeper.'

Politicians may not do God but they certainly do family; and when they do, they talk mainly about marriage. There's a reason for this as research suggests marriage provides a more stable background for children. Where marriage breaks down, there's plenty of anecdotal evidence of crisis and dysfunction. I listened recently to someone working in a school on a 'sink' estate. She said that hardly any of the children's parents were married and that a very high percentage were from multi-parent families. By that, she meant that brothers and sisters all have a different surname. These children have very little support at home, she said, 'probably because their parents put themselves first.'

Parents staying together is a factor in healthy families but is not the heart of the matter. The breakdown of marriage is only one tree in the forest for in the end, it's not the quantity but quality of adults around the child that is most crucial in their healthy development. The plain fact is that like Lauren, 4 out 5 of the people who come to see me for therapeutic help as adults had two parents who stayed together but who, out of ignorance or psychological laziness, passed on the poor parenting they received to the next generation. If we imagine renewing the family is all about saving marriages, we are mistaken. Two parents can leave you just as damaged as one.

But what of the church in all this? It's been common during the last twenty years to hear Conservative politicians berate the church for not giving a clearer lead in family life. There's an element of comedy in the fact that while politicians preach family values the church focuses on politics.

So when Rowan Williams reflected on societal unease in his 2011 Christmas address, he didn't blame family breakdown but a breakdown in communal trust: 'The most pressing question we now face,' he said, 'we might well say, is who and where we are as a society. Bonds have been broken, trust abused and lost. Whether it is an urban rioter mindlessly burning down a small shop that serves his community or a speculator turning his back on the question of who bears the ultimate cost for his acquisitive adventures in the virtual reality of today's financial world, the picture is of atoms spinning apart in the dark.'

Great picture.

But when it comes to family values, the church is aware of an elephant in the room, and the elephant is Jesus. The church follows a man who is unique amongst religious leaders for disowning his mother and choosing a public place in which to do it. Imagine it! Today, the pressure on people to buy a cheesy mother's day card is enormous. How could you not want to say thank you to this most central figure in your life?

Yet the gospels record an incident when Jesus doesn't play this family game. He's talking to his followers when his mother, brothers and sisters turn up and ask to speak with him. Their aim is to dissuade him from his increasingly public ministry, a role that has taken him, the eldest son, away from the home. His response is shocking. He refuses to go and meet them and says: 'Who is my mother? Who are my brothers? Whoever does what my father in heaven wants him to do is my brother, my sister and my mother.'

Blood family is ignored and a family of affinity encouraged.
Even in our supposedly liberated times, these 27 words spoken by Jesus would be considered unacceptable. Only the lowest of the low can disown their mother, surely? Yet in the patriarchal Jewish society of 1st century Palestine, where the 4th commandment required you to honour your father and mother, the words were even more shocking.

But here's the interesting question: is there a moment in our development when each of us, like Jesus, needs to forsake the family? Do we sometimes have to say goodbye to our family in order to say hello to them again? This is the premise in my recent book, 'Forsaking the Family' - an attempt to look at this institution with honest and contemplative eyes, away from the platitudes that so often surround the subject.

And it get's worse for the church, for lurking in the Old Testament scriptures, amongst many family horror stories, is the darkest incident of all: the tale of Abraham setting out with his son Isaac in order to sacrifice him to God. It's a tale of appalling child abuse told as if it is all rather divine. Here's a story of a father who agrees to kill his son when asked by the Almighty. It's a story which includes a death march: the three-day walk of father and son, with the son deceived about their destination and plans.

As a parent I am repulsed by the idea and as a son, I'm terrified. A walk together is usually a trusting and close affair but not on this occasion.

We then reach the moment which the storyteller, perhaps unsurprisingly, skims over. Abraham finally turns towards his son and using both his physical strength and the authority vested in him, forces him to climb up onto the altar. He then ties him down with cord. It will need to be tight, otherwise his son might wriggle in an attempt to evade the plunging knife. How would you handle this if you were the parent, if you were Abraham?

There is no dialogue recorded for this part of the story. Is Isaac literally dumb-struck? He's unaware of the fate his father has planned, though he must be weeping inside with confusion and fear. Finally, the knife-holding hand of the adult is raised and the truth is clear to young Isaac. His father, the man he trusts above all others, is about to kill him.

What is there to commend this story? If it is a story about the merits of blind obedience, then we might equally celebrate the obedience of those who faithfully carried out orders in Auschwitz or Treblinka. What ethical check on obedience exists if child murder can be applauded when carried out obediently? And more crucially: what of the feelings of the child? Do you ever recover from such an incident? Presumably your only path of survival - one still common today - is to deny within that it ever happened. 'My father would never have done that. I must be making it up.'

The psychologist Alice Miller, reflecting on this story, believes that the Fourth Commandment has had disastrous outcomes for the family. Writing on her website, she said: 'Over 100 years ago Sigmund Freud subjected himself without reserve to the prevailing idea of morality by putting all the blame on the child and sparing the parents. His successors did precisely the same.'

She believes psychoanalysis is now more open to the child's story but in these attempts is still 'largely thwarted by the Fourth Commandment.'

She quotes the Auchwitz commandant Rudolph Hoss: 'Above all, I was constantly reminded,' he said, 'that I was to comply with and follow the wishes or commands of parents, teachers, priests etc, indeed all grown ups including servants and that I was to allow nothing to distract me from that duty. Whatever they said, went. These fundamental values of my upbringing became part of my flesh and blood.'

We note that the Nazis were pro-marriage and pro-obedience towards parents; we note also that for them as for many today, the family was a sacred cow that could not be questioned. In such a climate, as every psychotherapist knows, for a son or daughter to take on their parents is the 'last battle' and to be avoided at all costs, no matter how much of themselves or their past they have to deny. People will blame everybody - and particularly themselves, exhibited commonly in depression - before blaming their parents.

But this is not a counsel of despair. I am optimistic for families. The harm done by one generation need not be passed on to the next. As wonderful parents across the country show, a damaged child does not need to become a damaging parent. And we break the cycle of destructive family settings when we become aware of our own experiences as children. Did you have difficult parents? Difficult parents, according to psychologist Sue Gerhardt, tend to fall into three categories: neglectful, intrusive or inconsistent.

Neglectful parents are often themselves depressed and find it hard to respond to their babies. Oppressed by their own concerns, they are withdrawn, offer no eye contact and pick the child up only to feed or clean them. As a result, the baby develops depressed ways of interacting, as modelled by the parent.

The intrusive parent will display anger, even if it's passive. They'll resent the child's demands and express their aggresssion towards them. Perhaps they pick the child up abruptly, hold it in a stiff manner or throw it down on the bed.

This parent fails to pick up any signals from the child who will grow up insecurely attached and emotionally avoidant.

The inconsistent parent - sometimes concerned, sometimes switched off - forces children into heightened awarness of their parent's mood to optimise the chance of getting a response. The unpredictable behaviour of the parent gives the parent power, making the child - and later the adult - always available to them and always needing them. This is known as a 'resistant' or 'ambivalent' attachment.

Talk of family values is good for the family is always with us. But let's talk of those things which make families truly valuable. And most crucial to a happy home and gracious growing is not the marriage vows or obedience to parents but the extent to which the parent or carer is emotionally available to the child, able to respond to their signals of discomfort or delight and able to soothe and calm when disturbed. This is particularly so in the first two years of life when the hard-wiring of the human brain is taking place - the hard-wiring which will be taken onto the streets and into work in adult life.

And as the first two years of life are crucial to the health of the family so is a sense of eternity. Truth is strange to our ears because it's so rare but according to Jesus, the family does not exist in any eternal sense. We recall a scene recorded in the gospels when those negative towards Jesus were trying to catch him out over the eternal nature of marriage. Desiring to make Jesus look foolish, they asked this: who will a woman be married to in heaven if she has been married to more than one person on earth?

Now there was a tricky one for the so-called Teacher to handle!

Jesus is under-whelmed by their cleverness. The premise of the conundrum is that relationships on earth will continue as they are beyond the grave, making for hellish chaos, dispute and bad feeling. But Jesus does not accept this premise. He simply replies that things will not be like that; that if we look to the eternal future, we are looking at a different way of being.

The message is clear: our complex network of relationships on earth will not be polished up a little and then transferred to the halls of heaven; such concepts as marriage and family, which so dominate earthly life, will have no existence there. It will be different. We're presented with mystery, certainly but not a conundrum and the only ones left looking foolish in this encounter are those too narrowly obsessed with the confines of the present ways and structures.

But then who can blame them? That's what they had been taught from their mother's knee. They had been taught that marriage and obedience to the family ethos were everything. What else could they do but believe it and assume it an eternal truth?

Families come in all shapes and sizes and no two are the same. The family is the oldest institution in the world because it's so flexible, reinventing itself down the centuries, across the world and in our own lives in ever-different forms. Families can be both wonderful and tragic. They have the power to create but also the power to destroy which should make us cautious about calls to 'strengthen the family' for it begs the question: which aspect of the family are we strengthening?

And so we return to where we started. The wonderful Lauren is concerned at her negative feelings towards her mother. We laugh about it not being a concern that Jesus seemed to share and she's relieved when I say that she's not responsible for the relationship: 'The child's relationship with the parent is all down to the parent.'

This is self-evident. It's a psychological impossibility that a child would turn their back on a parent who has loved them in a consistent and accepting manner. Parents create their children which is why to a greater or lesser degree, we must all leave our family, as Jesus did, to find ourselves; and perhaps to find our families all over again.

For if Jesus disowned his mother in life, he looked after her in death. In a moving scene, the crucified Jesus creates a new family - not one of blood but of affinity. Speaking from the cross, Mary is told to take John as her son and John is told to take Mary as his mother. From this time on, we are told they shared a home together.

Lauren will create a good family around her, whether one of blood or affinity, because at some expense to herself, she's being honest about her experiences and feelings. In fact, is the most shining family value that of honesty?

(If you'd like to pursue this, my book is called 'Forsaking the Family' and published by White Crow books.)