This week, with the Rev Kevin Logan, of Christ Church, Accrington

A CRASH wakes us. Lady the dog howls. I grab handiest weapon and run to top of stairs.

"Seize! " I yell, pointing downwards. Dog sits -- a doe-eyed look suggesting gentlemen shouldn't ask ladies to do such things.

I start to remonstrate about earning one's keep when feet scurry below. "Scat!" echoes a whispered shout.

Raised weapon now syncopates to rhythm of knees. I recall I'm a vicar. Turn the other cheek, Jesus commanded.

What! When your wife's in mortal danger? And the dog!

This nice theological debate blurs due to time -- 1.30am, plus the struggle to don dressing gown. Modesty forbids embarrassing burglars and self.

"Who's there!?" I scream.

Not that I expect a full curriculum vitae. It's my way of turning the other cheek, or giving invaders time to flee, or maybe I just don't want my cheek to be hit in first place? In any case, I don't fancy being jailed as 'a danger to burglars'.

Suddenly, a wave of incredible anger hits. My humour drowns. So does the trembling. Weapon rampant, I charge down, roaring into the red mist.

Reason has fled. So has fear. A wrathful 'how-dare-they' anger reigns, and the headline is already forming: Vicar whips burglar to death with wire coat hanger.

Later, in calm daylight and minus £400-worth of stuff, I wonder. Can words like vicar, Christian and blazing anger co-exist?

Eventual conclusion: Yes. Turn one cheek, said Jesus. Don't roll over and let evil triumph. Fight it.

Ditch political correctness. Remember theological rightness -- God's holy anger against rottenness must occasionally be reflected in his followers.

Shouldn't it?