WHAT kind of books are the scriptures, then? The BBC gave us an opportunity to consider this vital question throughout Holy Week and into Easter, with no fewer than three productions that sought to bring the Bible to life.

For those who can be bothered to think about it, it is clear that these ancient writings should be categorised as history - or supposed history, presenting narratives of events that are supposed to be true; and, when we find inconsistencies and inaccuracies, then that proves that they are not true at all, and ought to be rejected by all who have reached an age that is beyond needing fairy stories.

The first of the three to be broadcast, The Ark (BBC1, Monday of last week), is best thought of as a riff on the Genesis myth. What touched Tony Jordan's imagination was Noah's faith in God, which set him apart from the blasphemous generation all around him - and even from his family. Alas! This is just what people who do not live by faith themselves think it must be, or ought to be: an obsession that is irrational, that cannot be questioned or examined, and that is required by a jealous and inscrutable God.

If you define faith like this, then it is easy to reject. Jordan deliberately creates an anachronistic set-up: the setting is a generic Far Eastern "olden times", and everyone speaks and thinks in 21st-century idiom. This means unsatisfactory exchanges about whether God exists between people who talk like sixth-formers, but are dressed in homespun, and use clay beakers. The wicked city is a low-tech nightclub that is so innocuous as to call into question God's ability to know what real evil looks like.

David Threlfall's Noah kept reminding me of his unkempt paterfamilias in Shameless, and his sons and their wives seemed to have based their general deportment on that esteemed model. For some reason, Jordan ignored the juicy bits of the story; so no doves were sent out, and, apart from a few sheep and goats, there were no animals two by two. Our medieval Mystery Plays show how myth is better interpreted by stylised drama, which goes closer into the heart of the mystery of faith than a supposedly naturalistic presentation. And they are much funnier.

The Gospel of John (BBC2, Good Friday, Easter Day, and Easter Monday) was an ambitious production, recounting pretty well the entire text of the Fourth Gospel, with the greatest possible archaeological accuracy. But herein lay the problem. John's Gospel is, of course, a literary construction, a series of profound theological expositions of the meaning of a handful of incidents. As a one-time student of John Robinson's, I support the likelihood of the historicity of its narrative framework; but, in almost every other respect, the line-by-line action demonstrated above all what a weird book it is when treated literally.

David Suchet In the Footsteps of St Peter (BBC1, Good Friday and Easter Day) is equally undeserving of harsh criticism. Yet, here again, scripture is treated as essentially historical narrative, legitimately cut- and-pastable into a single story. The Gospels - all scripture - come to life when we focus on their theological particularity.