More Short Stories: Our Shelter from the Stormy Blast

Continuing the theme of short stories crafted from hymns, I have set this background against the St Paul's Cathedral in Wartime and the hymn by Isaac Watts, "Our God, our help in ages past.". The world is in a bad way with wars in the Middle East, and Ukraine, and there are echoes of conflict in this story, even though it is in the past, in another conflict almost within living memory.

I also drew on this site:
https://historicengland.org.uk/whats-new/features/blitz-stories/st-paul-s-cathedral

Our Shelter from the Stormy Blast
A Short Story of Endurance under Bombing

The night was a furnace of flame and ash. From the high dome of St Paul’s, the Dean, the Very Reverend Walter Matthews, could see the city burning. The streets he had walked since boyhood now swallowed by smoke. The Blitz had come again, relentless as thunder, bringing the tides of war to dash against the land. Below, the fire crews moved like shadows through the orange haze, their hoses glinting in the infernal light. The cathedral itself stood like a sentinel, its great stone ribs trembling under the concussion of bombs.

He had stayed behind and helped organise a team, he would not flee. “Our God, our help in ages past,” he murmured, the words rising from memory rather than voice. The hymn had been sung here countless times, but tonight it felt carved into the air itself, a prayer for endurance, not victory.

The architect and cathedral Surveyor, WG Allen, and Section Captain RM Wakelin were now ready for the fiery ordeal, in the St Paul’s Watch control room.

In the crypt, volunteers tended the wounded. A nurse with soot‑streaked cheeks whispered that the east transept had caught fire again. Matthews nodded, his eyes fixed on the flickering vault above. “Under the shadow of Thy throne,” he said softly, “Thy saints have dwelt secure.” He wondered if security meant survival or simply faith amid ruin.

Outside, the bells were silent. The Luftwaffe’s droning hum rolled over the Thames, and the city shuddered. He climbed the narrow stair to the Whispering Gallery, each step echoing like a heartbeat. From there, he could see the dome’s lantern glowing faintly through the smoke,  a fragile crown of light. The firewatchers were up there, silhouettes against the inferno, stamping out sparks with sandbags and courage.

He thought of the hills “before they stood,” of the eternal God “to endless years the same.” The words steadied him. Time, he knew, was the enemy of all things built by men, “an ever‑rolling stream” that bore away sons and fathers alike. Yet in that stream, faith was the one unmoving stone, the rock on which the Lord built his church, the City of God of St Augustine..

A blast shook the cathedral. Dust fell like snow. Matthews knelt beside a broken window and looked toward the river. The bridges were still standing, though the warehouses beyond were gone. Somewhere in the east, the glow of another fire rose, perhaps Aldgate, perhaps Shoreditch. He could not tell.

He remembered the faces of the congregation who had sung here last Sunday: a mother with two children, a soldier home on leave, an old organist whose hands trembled on the keys. Were they alive tonight? He prayed they were. “Be Thou our guard while troubles last,” he whispered, “and our eternal home.”

And as he looked out over Paternoster Row, Ave Maria Lane, and the book warehouses, now a sea of flame where the cathedral stood like an island in a burning world, he thought of the three men in the fiery furnace. London too was walking through fire, and the Cathedral stood, a beacon of faith within the fires.

When dawn came, the bombing ceased. The sky was bruised and pale, and the dome of St Paul’s still stood — blackened but unbroken. Firemen leaned against the walls, exhausted, their helmets streaked with ash. One of them looked up and smiled faintly. “She’s still here, sir,” he said.

Matthews nodded. “So are we.”

He stepped outside into the ruined streets. London was a graveyard of chimneys and glass. The Dean paused, reflecting. The hymn returned to him again, not as lament but as promise, that even in the storm, there was shelter; even in the ashes, hope.

Matthews recalled how he and the Watch fought a number of separate battles in which small squads fought incipient fires at different places on and beneath the roof. He remembered how he had managed to extinguish an incendiary bomb himself, alongside Surveyor Godfrey Allen. It had scarred the floor, and yet he held a special affection for the scar left by that bomb on the floor, a mark he saw as a symbol of survival.

And as the sun rose over the dome, its light catching the smoke like incense, he whispered once more: “Our God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come.”

Election Fever

A poem for tomorrow!

Election Fever

It was the day of election, excitement day,
Unless sunny and then to beach ward way!
Voting with their feet, buckets and spade,
Increased turnout was not well made;
But perhaps they came, took voting slip,
Before the beach and seaside dip,
Past the smiling faces, shaking hands,
Thinking of sunbathing on those sands;
Don’t smile at me they want to scream,
As they think of beach and soft ice cream;
While crosses marked, a time to vote,
But I sadly miss Honest Nev’s tote,
And wonder at the odds he’d set,
And whether candidates themselves would bet;
Throughout the day, they come and go,
The voters, some faster, some very slow:
The hobbling stick, the bent old back,
For the elderly are rarely slack,
But younger folk may stay away,
Politics is for them just for dismay:
High rents, costly living, no night life,
Their world a struggle full of strife;
Then sounds the gong at end of time,
As if the bell of doom does chime,
And counting slips, just one by one,
Until they read out who was won,
And good luck to all who lose and win,
While manifestos go recycling bin!

1986 - 40 years ago - June - Part 1

1986 - 40 years ago - June - Part 1

June 2-8

DISAGREEMENT between Tourism president Senator John Rothwell and the Battle of Flowers Association chairman Mr Graeme Rabet ends when Senator Rothwell accepts an invitation to become Battle of Flowers Association president.

The Civil Aviation Authority is adamant that it wants to ban Jersey flights from Heathrow if congestion gets any worse at the airport.

The Assistant Police Court Magistrate, Mr Robin Short, says that the Island is in danger of being "swamped" by the many small amounts of cannabis being imported.

A section of Bath Street is closed at rush hour when it is feared that the wall of the partly demolished Lancashire Textiles building is about to collapse into the street.

A nurse at the General Hospital, Jersey-born Miss Julie Haywood (22), is chosen as Miss Battle of Flowers.

An ambulance on its way to help an un-conscious motorcyclist overturns after hitting a van and a bank. Neither of the men in the ambulance is badly hurt in the accident, which occurs near La Croix au Lion, St Peter.

Unsupervised children are causing problems at Fort Regent and Fort officials say that three-year-olds have been found left to their own devices in the playground and funfair areas.

A long-term car park building programme costing £181/2 million is planned by the Public Works Committee. The programme will include an underground car park in Castle Street.

Islanders respond slowly to the call for donations for a wedding gift for Prince Andrew and Miss Sarah Ferguson. there is only £75 in the kitty two weeks after the appeal is launched.

June 9-15

THE manager of British Home Stores in King street tells stunned food hall employees that that side of the business is to be closed in September. Although the local food hall is a success, the same has not been true of BHS food halls in the UK.

Measures introduced by the UK Government to control illicit dealing in shares will mean that Channel Island companies will have to co-operate with investigations into irregular "insider" trading.

The Housing Committee reveals that it hopes to set up a sub-committee under the chairmanship of Housing president Deputy Hendric Vandervliet to speed up the acquisition of land for States housing.

The move is planned because the committee feels there is a lack of co-ordination in present efforts to purchase housing land in the public sector.

Three people are rescued from a French cabin cruiser when it hits rocks at the Paternosters and starts to take in water. The craft is towed to St Helier Harbour after being pumped out by the lifeboat.

The Telecommunications Board announce plans to spend over £17 million on a five-year plan, but even before the proposals are debated they are opposed by the Finance and Economics Committee.

Former coach-dweller Mr Richard Manning is sent to jail for contempt of Court. His arrest is ordered when he fails to turn up for a resumption of a hearing in the Royal Court relating to alleged debts.

 

Cheaper Supermarkets in Jersey: Barriers to Overcome

The Claim

During the 2026 Jersey election campaign, independent candidate and Value Jersey figure Samantha Gleave has stated that budget supermarkets like Aldi and Lidl are "knocking on Jersey's door" and that she would fight to let them in by resolving local planning and site barriers.

But when you look at the facts, matters are not nearly so clear. The Chief Minister of Jersey has explicitly stated that neither Aldi nor Lidl has made any official approach or proposal to the island's government regarding opening stores.

Aldi and Lidl's discount structures rely heavily on high-volume, centralized supply chains, and low-cost regional HGV distribution networks by road. But Jersey has sea to cross! The high cost of un-subsidized freight shipping to the Channel Islands, alongside the 12-hour ferry transit times that tie up delivery trailers, makes Jersey financially unviable under their current operational models. Cancellations due to changes in the sea conditions also put extra pressure on distribution.

While local campaign groups use the promise of budget supermarkets as a major talking point to address Jersey's cost-of-living concerns, the assertion that these chains are actively trying to enter the market is a myth used for political leverage.

So how could it work?

Aldi or Lidl would first need a suitable site in Jersey, and this is widely seen as the biggest obstacle. Discount supermarkets require a large footprint, good road access, and substantial parking, but Jersey has very limited commercial land that meets these criteria. Previous political discussions have repeatedly highlighted that identifying a viable location is the main barrier to progress. 

Samantha Gleave has not identified any such sites, which is hardly surprising, as there really are not any. Existing mainland chains such as Waitrose and Morrisons solved the issue by taking over existing supermarkets with existing locations. That leaves just the Channel Island Co-Op for viable sites, and I don't think that is on the cards - if there was an offer, it would have to be approved by members!

They would also need to be convinced that the Jersey market is commercially viable. With a population of around 110,000, the island is small for a discounter’s business model, which depends on high footfall and tight cost control. Although a 2023 FOI confirmed there are no regulatory barriers preventing them from entering the island, Aldi and Lidl would still need confidence that they could compete on price despite higher shipping and operating costs.

A further requirement is solving supply‑chain logistics. Both Aldi and Lidl rely on centralised distribution hubs and high-volume deliveries to keep prices low. Operating in Jersey would require dependable shipping routes, cold‑chain capacity, and either a local distribution point or a direct‑to‑store delivery model. Other retailers manage this, so it is feasible, but it adds complexity and cost that the discounters would need to factor in, especially if they wanted to sell as cheaply as in the UK, making margins very tight.

Finally, any development would need political and planning alignment. While there are no legal restrictions blocking Aldi or Lidl, planning approval would still be required for whichever site is chosen. This means the location must fit the Island Plan and pass traffic, environmental, and community impact assessments. Politicians have expressed interest in attracting a discount supermarket, but no formal proposal has ever been submitted by either company.

A More Grounded Theology of Healing and Brokenness

A More Grounded Theology of Healing and Brokenness

There is often in Christianity a warm and sincere desire to encourage prayer for healing, and it reflects a genuine confidence in God’s care for human wellbeing. Yet the theology it presents can be somewhat narrow, leaning toward an optimistic expectation of healing that does not fully reflect the breadth of Christian tradition or the lived experience of many believers. A more balanced approach would hold together the hope of God’s Kingdom with the reality that suffering, illness, and disability remain part of the Christian journey, and that God’s presence is often known most deeply within those very conditions.

This approach is right to affirm that God longs for wholeness and that healing is part of the Christian story. Scripture contains many accounts of Jesus healing the sick, restoring the broken, and bringing peace to troubled hearts. Christians have always prayed for healing, trusting that God listens and responds in love. The reminder that ultimate healing belongs to the fullness of God’s Kingdom is also true and important. Revelation’s vision of a world without death, mourning, crying, or pain is a central Christian hope, and it rightly shapes our prayers and longings.

However, this theology tends to frame healing as something we should expect in the present, at least in some measure, and this can unintentionally create a sense that healing is the norm while ongoing suffering is an exception. Many faithful Christians live with cancer, chronic illness, disability, increasing deafness, neurological conditions, or the long-term effects of stroke. For them, healing does not come, and yet their lives are no less held by God. Christian theology has always recognised that God’s action is not limited to physical restoration. Sometimes God heals, sometimes God strengthens, and sometimes God simply remains present in ways that do not remove the burden but make it bearable. This is a truth found in the Psalms, in Paul’s letters, and in the experience of countless believers across the centuries.

Writers such as Frances Young have helped the Church to see that God’s presence is not only found in the removal of suffering but also in the midst of it. Her reflections on life with her profoundly disabled son remind us that God does not stand at a distance waiting to fix us. Instead, God accompanies us in our vulnerability, and that companionship is itself a form of grace. Healing, in this deeper sense, is not always about cure. It can be about dignity, acceptance, endurance, or the discovery of love in unexpected places. It can be about the Church learning to carry one another’s burdens, to sit with pain rather than rush to resolve it, and to recognise Christ in the wounded and the weary.

There is also an important theological detail that we should not miss: Jesus rose from the dead still bearing His scars. The resurrection does not erase woundedness but transforms it. This is a profound truth for those who live with permanent conditions. It means that scars, limitations, and brokenness are not signs of spiritual failure. They are places where Christ Himself has gone before us. A theology that remembers the scarred Christ is less likely to slip into triumphalism and more likely to honour the experiences of those who do not receive the healing they long for.

A more robust theology of healing would therefore affirm that God can heal and sometimes does, but it would also acknowledge that God’s presence is not dependent on the outcome of our prayers. It would make space for lament as well as hope, for unanswered questions as well as confident faith. It would recognise that the Church’s calling is not only to pray for healing but also to accompany those who suffer, to offer practical care, and to embody the compassion of Christ in ways that do not depend on miraculous change.

The K2 Scheme and Value Jersey: The Morality of Exploiting Loopholes

Jimmy Carr and the K2 Scheme Loophole

The K2 tax scheme used by Jimmy Carr was fully legal at the time, falling under tax avoidance rather than tax evasion. It exploited a loophole in UK law that allowed high earners to route income through offshore trusts and receive most of it back as “loans,” which were not taxable. Because the structure complied with the letter of the law, Carr faced no criminal charges, but the arrangement was widely viewed as aggressive and ethically questionable.

The mechanism itself relied on a Jersey‑based trust. Carr’s UK earnings were paid into this offshore vehicle, which then returned the bulk of the money to him as a repayable loan rather than income. Only a token salary was taxed normally. Since loans were not treated as taxable income, this allowed him to shelter millions each year from HMRC. More than a thousand high earners used similar structures, making K2 one of the most prominent avoidance schemes of its era.

Public reaction in 2012 was swift and severe. Then‑Prime Minister David Cameron publicly condemned the arrangement as “morally wrong,” turning what had been a niche tax‑planning strategy into a national scandal. Under intense scrutiny, Carr withdrew from the scheme, apologised, and later repaid the tax he had avoided. He has since said that the reputational damage and repayments meant he ultimately gained nothing from participating.

The fallout accelerated major changes in UK tax law. The 2013 Finance Bill introduced the General Anti‑Abuse Rule (GAAR), designed to shut down artificial arrangements created solely to avoid tax. HMRC also pursued promoters of successor schemes, issuing fines and challenging similar loan‑based structures in court. As a result, the type of offshore loan mechanism used in K2 is no longer viable under modern UK tax rules.

Value Jersey and the Political Loophole

Value Jersey’s approach is structurally very similar to a legal political loophole in the same way Jimmy Carr’s K2 arrangement was a legal tax avoidance scheme. In both cases, the actors follow the exact letter of the law while bypassing the clear spirit of what the law was designed to prevent. The contexts differ, taxation versus elections, but the underlying strategy is the same: use a carefully chosen organisational form to avoid triggering the legal definitions that would normally restrict or regulate the behaviour.

The first parallel is the distinction between avoidance and evasion. Carr did not illegally hide income; he used an artificial offshore structure to ensure his earnings no longer counted as “income” under UK tax law. Likewise, Value Jersey is not breaking Jersey’s Public Elections Law. Instead, by presenting itself as a “community movement” rather than a political party or regulated campaign entity, it avoids the legal definition of a candidate expense or a regulated third‑party campaigner. Both cases involve compliance with the letter of the law while sidestepping its intended purpose.

A second similarity lies in exploiting gaps in legislation. The K2 scheme worked because UK law had not yet closed the loophole around offshore trusts and repayable loans. In Jersey, the Public Elections Law contains no framework for third‑party campaigning, a mechanism that exists in the UK and many other democracies to prevent outside groups from spending large sums to influence voters. Because Jersey has never updated this part of its legislation, Value Jersey’s activities remain lawful even though they occupy a regulatory vacuum.

A third parallel is the use of general principles to justify the structure. Carr’s advisers argued he was simply receiving “loans,” which under financial definitions are not taxable income. Value Jersey similarly argues it is promoting broad policy ideas rather than supporting specific candidates. Because its central materials do not name individual candidates, the organisation maintains that its own spending does not count toward any candidate’s strict £3,500 cap. In both cases, the defence hinges on technical definitions rather than the broader intent of the law.

Finally, both situations triggered significant moral and political backlash. Carr’s scheme, though legal, was condemned as “morally wrong” for undermining the tax system while benefiting from it. In Jersey, critics argue that Value Jersey’s anonymous funding and undisclosed donors are “democratically wrong,” potentially allowing wealthy backers to influence an election without transparency. Opposition politicians have raised concerns about the integrity of the electoral process and the lack of public accountability.

The ultimate parallel is what typically happens next: the law changes. Carr’s scandal directly led to the UK’s General Anti‑Abuse Rule, which shut down artificial tax schemes. In Jersey, the Electoral Authority and several States Members have already indicated that the law will likely be rewritten after the June 2026 election to ensure that “non‑party political movements” cannot campaign anonymously in future. As with K2, the loophole remains legal only until the political system catches up.

In conclusion...

Just as the Jimmy Carr scandal exposed a gap between legal tax code and public morality, Value Jersey has exposed a gap between Jersey’s written election laws and the community’s expectations of democratic transparency.

Most democracies regulate third‑party campaigners by imposing registration, spending limits, and transparency rules designed to prevent hidden influence while still allowing legitimate civic participation. Jersey must do so too.

More Short Stories: Be Still, My Soul

This short story builds on the hymn by Kathrina von Schlegel (1752) within a Jersey wartime setting.

Be Still, My Soul

The winter of 1944 pressed hard upon the island. Food was scarce, tempers thin, and hope thinner still. In the narrow lanes above St Peter’s Valley, Elise Hamon walked with her head down, her basket empty except for a few limp carrots. It was late November, and the moon rose high above the hedgerows. The curfew would soon start. Patrols may come. She quickened her pace.

The Germans had taken her father in the autumn. No explanation. Just a knock at the door and the cold certainty that she would never see him again. Since then, the world had become a place of shadows, soldiers at every corner, hunger gnawing at every hour, fear settling like frost on the heart.

Be still, my soul! the Lord is on your side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;

Yet that morning, as she left the house, her mother had whispered the old hymn under her breath: “Be still, my soul; the Lord is on your side.” Elise had almost snapped at her. How could anyone speak of stillness now? Her thoughts were of despair: “Life is not worth living, we are so worried and distressed, we are starving, there is no food or fuel, and the cold seeps into our souls.”

A gust of wind swept through the valley, carrying the smell of woodsmoke and something else — something metallic. She rounded the bend and froze. A German soldier lay slumped against the stone wall, half‑hidden by brambles. His uniform was torn, his face pale beneath streaks of mud. Blood darkened the granite dry stone wall around him. He looked barely older than she was.

Elise’s first instinct was to run and leave him, to let the war claim one more life. But then he opened his eyes: blue, frightened, scared. She saw not the enemy, but a fellow human in pain. “Hilfe…” he whispered. “Please.” She stood trembling. Helping him felt like an act of treason. It would be so easy to leave him as he lay. But something in his expression, not the fear, but the weariness, struck her like a blow. It was the same hollow exhaustion she saw in her mother’s eyes each night.

Slowly, she knelt beside him. “What happened?” she asked. “Patrol… mine…” He winced. “I did not want this war. I only wanted to teach. My students… Berlin…” His voice cracked. “Bombs fell on our street.” Elise felt her breath catch. Loss recognised loss. The hymn rose again in her mind, unbidden: “Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain…”. She hated that it comforted her.

She tore a strip from her apron and pressed it to his wound. He gasped but did not pull away. “You shouldn’t be here,” she murmured. “I know.” His eyes fluttered. “But you stopped.” Elise swallowed hard. “I don’t know why.” “Because you have a good soul, eine gute Seele” he whispered. “Even in darkness.” She knew curfew was close. She had minutes at most.

Be still, my soul! your best, your heav’nly friend
Thru' thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

She helped him to his feet. He leaned heavily on her, each step a struggle. They moved through the valley like ghosts, keeping to hedgerows and shadows. At last they reached an abandoned farmer’s hut, half‑collapsed but sheltered from the wind. “You’ll be safe here for tonight,” she said. “I’ll bring water. Maybe bread.”

He caught her hand. “Why risk this?” Elise hesitated. The truth surprised her. “Because if I let you die,” she said softly, “I lose the last piece of myself that the war hasn’t taken.” His eyes shone with gratitude.

When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored

As she slipped back into the night, the promise of the hymn’s words echoed within her: “When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone.” An encounter with a stranger, reminding her of the words she had learned in Sunday school many years ago: “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." Compassion reached across barriers and boundaries.

Your hope, your confidence, let nothing shake;
all now mysterious shall be bright at last.

For the first time in months, Elise felt the faintest stirring of hope, and hope was to come later that month, when the Red Cross ship Vega arrived, bringing supplies and succour to the starving Islanders. She did not know it then, but the Allies had now long liberated Normandy, and by May next year, the war would end, and the Islanders would be liberated themselves from German Occupation. The day before, the prison gates would be opened to release their captives, and she would be reunited with her beloved father, frail but still alive, and the final line of the hymn would ring true for her: “All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.”

Be still my soul! when change and tears are past,
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.