The Scottish Premier League and Scottish Football Association should tread carefully when considering what crime' Artur Boruc actually perpetrated by sauntering off Celtic Park after Sunday's Old Firm derby displaying a T-shirt with an image of Pope John Paul II and the slogan God bless the Pope'.

If the report submitted by the SPL's match delegate, William McDougall, records Boruc acting in an inflammatory manner, then the SPL stand accused of pandering to the sensitivities of a militant minority of religious intolerants.

The Polish goalkeeper is not as daft as he looks or acts, but he would do well to consider the possible wider implications of playing the religious card in the febrile environment of the west of Scotland. Although the incidents were not directly related, on Sunday night, before Aiden McGeady became embroiled in an altercation outside a nightclub, Patrick McBride, a Celtic supporter, was assaulted by a gang and died from a heart attack. Police believe the attack was triggered by the Old Firm derby earlier that day.

Suddenly, stoking the fire does not seem such a smart idea, does it?

Boruc is a practising Roman Catholic and, apparently, has a shrine in memory of his late countryman, John Paul II. He is revered as the Holy Goalie and, indeed, relishes in the monicker, even though Thomas Paprocki, Bishop of the Archdiocese of Chicago by day and ice hockey netminder by night, beat him to it. Boruc even signs his autograph in the sign of the cross.

Yet what exactly is the purpose of overt symbolism when it takes the focus off a second successive win over Rangers that rejuvenates Celtic's hitherto ailing title defence?

It is this selfishness that should prompt Gordon Strachan, his manager, Peter Lawwell, the chief executive, or even Dermot Desmond, the principle shareholder, to discourage Boruc from using Celtic Park, or any football ground for that matter, as a soap box for his beliefs.

His deliberate antagonism is a direct response to what Sir David Murray wearily described as the FTP element of the Rangers support. Recently, Lawwell felt compelled to reaffirm, in print, that Celtic were an inclusive club "open to all since its formation in 1888". Non-Catholic Celtic fans may also be tiring of Boruc's pantomime villainy.

The smart money is on the SPL having a quiet word in Celtic's ear over Boruc's future conduct. Glasgow does not stint either in its commendation or condemnation of such a public show of faith, depending on your religious bent. FIFA, that great bastion of sporting honour and integrity, has a distinctly atheist approach.

From this season, they have a policy - International FA Board Law 4, Decision 1, to be precise - that no political or religious slogans be displayed on any garment. Yesterday, when presented with the prospect of wading through the century-long religious undergrowth of Scottish football, FIFA elected to delegate. "Matters related to a given competition are handled by the relevant competition's organising body," said a spokesman.

There is an indisputable body of evidence that depicts Boruc as an eccentric wind-up merchant. In tabloid land, such outlandishness is easily translated as moronic behaviour. Such vilification only fuels his child-like enthusiasm for wreaking havoc. On the rare occasion he grants an audience, Boruc can be charming and articulate company. Since signing from Legia Warsaw, he has also cultivated a keen sense of self-worth.

This presents Celtic's biggest obstacle when dealing with their prized asset. Boruc has never hidden his ambition to perform in one of Europe's genuine elite leagues, and in the not-so-distant future at that. Any rebuke, however mild, from his employers is likely to invite a petted lip, a petulant stamping of feet and a transfer request.

Celtic will take a liberal stance on their combustible goalkeeper and so, too, will the SFA and SPL. Boruc, the best goalkeeper Celtic have ever had, must learn that graciousness is a prerequisite for greatness.