The rich tapestry of human existence is doubtless on display at Gateshead Magistrates' Court most days. But the case it considers on Tuesday has a national significance. One of Britain's most celebrated temples of culture - the Baltic Centre for Contemporary Art, on the banks of the Tyne in Gateshead - is being prosecuted for outraging public decency.

Its alleged crime? Earlier this year it hosted an exhibition by the New York-based Chinese artist Terence Koh that featured dozens of little plaster figures of such luminaries as Mickey Mouse and E.T. - all with erect penises. Puerile and pathetic, perhaps, but prosecutable? Not if Koh had confined his priapic fantasies to fantasy figures. But one of his subjects was recognisably Jesus Christ.

If his intention was to offend Christians, he certainly hit the bull's-eye. There were complaints to Northumbria Police, but they decided - after the Government's abolition of the blasphemy laws this May - that there was no case to answer.

This didn't deter Emily Mapfuwa, a 40-year-old Christian. Although she lives in Brentwood, Essex - nearly 300 miles from Gateshead - she read the somewhat lurid coverage of the exhibition in the newspapers (“Christ is risen ...” was The Sun's headline), and launched a private prosecution with the financial backing of an organisation called the Christian Legal Service, which aims to “promote and protect the biblical freedoms of Christian believers in the United Kingdom”.

The case may be passed on to a crown court, so it might not be resolved this week. But keep an eye out for the result, because it raises questions of interest far beyond Tyneside. The first is whether all religions deserve equal treatment, and protection, in our pluralist society. Ms Mapfuwa and other Christians claim that neither the Baltic nor any other art gallery would have dared to depict the Prophet Muhammad in a state of sexual arousal - or indeed in any state at all. That's probably true. But just because extremist members of one faith create a climate of fear by taking the law into their own hands (or threatening to) doesn't necessarily mean that the law should be stretched to protect the sacred images of all faiths.

Then there's the question of freedom of expression. If artists can't offend, art loses its punch and its aura of danger. On the other hand, is there any punch or danger left in the tired old sport of baiting Christians by sexualising or trivialising the figure of Christ? If I had ten quid for every “controversial” artistic depiction of Jesus, Mary or Mary Magdalene in an erotic pose, I could make a bid for The Last Supper.

Galleries and funding bodies are rightly wary of interfering in an artist's choice of subject. It smacks of censorship. But there's nothing wrong with a gallery boss shouting “Christ, not Him again!” when approached by yet another headline-hungry artist with a penchant for doing naughty things to Jesus.

As for Christians (and I have murmured the Nicene Creed myself from time to time), I think we should have more faith in the indestructibility of our Maker. I don't wish to underestimate the far-reaching powers of Gateshead Magistrates' Court, but does a Supreme Being really need its protection? Surely God can look after Himself. Or Herself.