Liberation: The Aftermath – Part 2

Liberation: The Aftermath – Part 2

13th May and beyond

Under the inquisitive gaze of Islanders, St Aubin's Bay became a hive of military activity during the days following 12 May 1945.

Most captivating were four voluminous Landing Ship Tank, or LSTs, who arrived on 13 May to beach on the sands. Crewed by British and American sailors and stuffed full of vehicles and equipment, they welcomed visitors onboard to enjoy gladly accepted jam sandwiches.

The LSTs also provided transport for the departing German garrison, which numbered over 11,000 at liberation. Disarmed, marshalled and lined-up, most left from St Aubin's Bay between 13 and 20 May 1945 bound for UK POW camps.

A small number of retained Germans worked alongside Force 135, restoring the harbour and airport and busily clearing weapons, mines and other munitions. British troops would remain until clean-up and restoration was complete, visiting Home Secretary Herbert Morrison announced on 15 May. But a return to civilian control was planned as soon as practically possible.

A sign of returning normality was Jersey's first post-war mailboat from England. Symbolically, the 'Isle of Guernsey' mailboat carried more than just letters and parcels on 26 June 1945. Among her officially welcomed passengers were the first returning Islanders displaced by war.

Most evacuees departing so hurriedly in June 1940 had arrived in England with little idea of what would become them. Lacking family or friends there, the British Government settled them across the north of England. Now, with Jersey's liberation, most were ready to come home.

Just a few arrived on that first boat, thousands more followed over the weeks and months to come. While grateful to be back, there was a challenging reintegration ahead. Two Island communities sundered by war faced getting to know each other again.

That first boat also brought the first returned internees. Their moment of liberation had come as victorious Allied forces overran southern Germany at the end of April 1945. With the region in turmoil, however, a frustrating delay awaiting travel documents and transport ensued.

There was further frustration once in the UK, awaiting permission to come home. It was not until August 1945 that most internees returned to joyous reunions with friends and family last seen nearly three years earlier.

By that time, the Island was ready for one final part in its liberation story. Having completed their allotted tasks, the troops of Force 135 prepared to leave. On 23 August, the States Assembly held a special sitting to bid farewell to their commanding officer, who was departing the next day.

Coming to Jersey was a delight for all the liberating forces, Brigadier Snow told an appreciative chamber, but for him it was, 'the greatest experience he had known.' Yet time had come, in accordance with promises made, for the Island's handover to its normal system of government on 24 August.

For Jersey's liberators it was also time to say farewell, Snow concluded with a flourish, "A helot - goodbye."

Liberation: The Aftermath – Part 1

Liberation: The Aftermath – Part 1

12 May 1945: The main liberation force arrives

As promised by Lieutenant Colonel Robinson, the small British force landing on 9 May was just the vanguard of those allotted the task of taking Jersey back from Nazi control.

While Islanders welcomed their first liberators, the remaining 6,000 members of Force 135 diligently prepared to board the assembled fleet of vessels bound for the Channel Islands. Those destined for Jersey were due to arrive on 12 May 1945.

From early that morning, excited Islanders again gathered in St Helier and thronged the seafront ready to witness and welcome the promised incoming troops. The Bailiff had declared 12 May an impromptu public holiday, allowing everyone that had endured th'e toils of occupation to fully enjoy the triumph of liberation.

They didn't have long to wait. Clearing mists revealed a flotilla of grey Royal Navy vessels quietly anchored in St Aubin's Bay, or busily churning towards the shore.

After securing Elizabeth Castle at 8.30am, a first group of small landing craft entered St Helier Harbour. With police struggling to hold back a huge enthusiastic crowd of onlookers, the leading craft dropped its ramp to ground on the lifeboat ramp near the base of Victoria Pier.

Others swiftly followed, disgorging their complement of fully armed troops to the welcoming shouts of those watching. A group of remarkable vehicles followed, amphibious DUKWs that to the surprise of local onlookers roared out of the water and onto land.

Later, at around 10.30am, three larger landing craft entered the harbourbringing hundreds more troops to swell liberating ranks. Accompanied by welcoming thanks and cheers, they fanned out to secure the Island.

Those troops remaining in St Helier provided an honour guard for a special event planned that evening. At 6.00pm, Islanders gathered in the Royal Square once more, this time to witness a stirring Proclamation Ceremony. From a hastily erected stage, the commanding officer of liberating forces, Brigadier Snow, read out a message from George VI.

`To my most loyal people in the Channel Islands, I send you my heartfelt greetings; the King wrote,
"...with all my peoples, I cordially welcome you on your restoration to freedom and to your rightful place with the free nations of the world."

Sunday Reflections: Liberation Day

There is something very special about a day celebrating freedom, even if many Islanders now had no ancestors who were hear during the dark days of World War II. But that is something about freedom, that after a war in which people were divided they come together. 

There were divisions: Jersey folk here from their kindred who had evacuated from the Island, those deported to Bad Wurzach, Biberach and Laufen, those brought over from Spain as enslaved prisoners of war, or from Russia and Poland as slave workers, and also Germans, torn from their families back home, many just ordinary young men.

Liberation day is a celebration of freedom, and also looks to reconciliation, and that is why it is important for those who have made Jersey their home since the war. It is a national day to come together and celebrate freedom, and of healing divisions.

As Martin Luther King said: "Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred."

Bailiff Tim Le Cocq said this year:


"As we mark this 80th anniversary, let us all stand together as members of our island community, who are all, whether born here of not, inheritors of a legacy, a legacy of endurance, of hope, and of liberation.


And I finish with the words of Trevor Green (from 2020)

"Liberation Day should be celebrated in as many ways as possible involving all who live here, regardless of colour, race, or creed."

"We live in a paradise and enjoy two of the most precious things, freedom and peace."

"Unfortunately, these are not enjoyed by many others the world."

"For those islanders who endured the Occupation years, they paid a heavy price for today's freedom and peace."

The Scapegoats

I saw this child in the news this week. We cannot give help, because aid is blocked. It just made me so angry that there are politicians who condone this blockade, who pursue this war and cannot see how much the innocent suffer. It is perhaps not on the statute books as a form of murder, but when I look at the pain and suffering of this child, I think that those who are deaf to allowing help to get there are as guilty of murder as if they had committed it. They block their eyes, they cover their ears, and children are dying horribly. Of course they have all kinds of excuses, but it is really inexcusable.

This poem is a very angry poem. Look at that child and you will understand why.

The Scapegoats

I turned on the news, just by chance,
Not really watching, taking a glance,
As one does. And then she was there:
Just caught up in a war, suffering, fear;
A small child, I will not forget that face,
Lying in that bed, a wretched place;
Sickly, gasping, starving, needing aid:
But there is no help, hopes just fade;
Aid is blocked by Israel, in this war:
Unfeeling politicians close the door;
And as surely as if murder of a child,
Their foul politics have been defiled;
Isaiah would have words to say today:
Harsh words to those who go this way,
On the boots of the invading troops,
On Hamas, Hezbollah and such groups,
Of shirts soaked with innocent blood,
And lands reduced to rubble and mud;
Abuse of oppressors, tyrants cruelty,
Because they cannot face or see
That child’s face, one of so many,
And nothing will their war deter.
Abandoned, with no regard for her:
The massacre of the innocent I say,
By Herods on their thrones today;
Graves are assigned by wicked men,
So deaf to pleas, again and again,

Who make scapegoats in this way,

Of children, dying day by day,

Through lack of aid, an evil choice:

For the innocent child has no voice;
She has no stately form or majesty,
That we would look on her and see:
But in sickness, a child of great pain,
Whose suffering seems in vain;
But one day a judgement will come,
To mighty men, who beat the drum,
Of war, and order launching shell,
And they will very surely go to hell.

1965 - 60 years ago - May Part 2

1965 - 60 years ago - May Part 2

18.—The Bailiff of Jersey, Mr. R. H. Le Masurier, D.S,C. officially opened the 54th conference of the British Waterworks Association at West Park Pavilion. 600 delegates and their wives attending.

19.—Richard Harding Murray Stableford, who was recently sentenced death by the Full Court for the murder by shooting of Patrick Wilkinson on December 11, has been reprieved and the sentence commuted to life imprisonment.

20.—After a man had been seen in the staff flats at Noel and Porter in King Street. early this morning the entire block of flats was investigated by the police: four holdalls packed with men’s clothing valued at £400 were found ready to take away and three men were later arrested. R.J.A. and HS. Spring Cattle Show held at Springfield. First meeting on the season staged by the Jersey Motor Cycle and Light Club at St. Ouen’s Bay.

21.—Appeals were entered at the Royal Court by three betting offices in two amusement premises against recent decisions by the Gambling licensing Authority. At the Royal Court the residue of the personal estate of a hotelier’s widow who died in squalor amounting to £3,000 as authorized to be divided between three cousins.

22—Party of 23 French dignitaries arrive in the Island as guests of Condor Ltd. and a reception and lunch was given by the Tourism committee. Following the findings of a number of dead Colorado beetles on beaches in the north and east of the Island, spraying precautions were ordered to be taken.—-Twenty-seven Channel Islands take part in the Jersey—Guernsey race for the Piccadilly Trophy, the winner being the Jersey boat Arrow. owned by Mr. G. Godfray.

25.—The spacious new departure lounge at the Airport, costing £81,600, came into use for the first time today. On the La Moye course today, Mrs A. Lindsay (Guernsey), the reigning title-holder retained the CI. Ladies Amateur Golf Championship by defeating the Jersey champion Mrs S. Leapingwell, by 9 and 7.

26.—At a sitting of the Full Court today, Deputy F. E. Luce. of St. John, took the oath of office as a Jurat of the Royal Court (vacancy being caused by the retirement of Jurat C. Orange). At a St Ouen parish assembly it was decided to vote a sum not exceeding £30 for the purposes of commemorating Sark's colonization 400 years by natives of the parish.

27.—Inquest held on the body of 16-year-old Malcolm Emile Falle, who died following injuries received when the bicycle he was riding in collision with a. minibus on Grouville Coast Road on the evening of May 9, a verdict of accidental death being returned ; a second inquest was held on the body of Francois Taillabnesse, a 59—year-old kitchen porter, whose body was found lying at the foot of a disused quarry at the back of Westmount Works, a verdict of accidental death being recorded. In an official statement today Channel Television announced that it is to sell a controlling interest (51 per cent) of its shares to the Associated British Picture Corporation Ltd. Residents at Les Pouquelaye area hold protest meeting at Town Hall against the deal by the Island Development Committee to re-zone the area for industrial purposes. 

28. —The sentencing of three of four 13-year old boys who pleaded by at the Royal Court to stealing from and causing damage in churches was deferred for six weeks today ; the fourth was placed probation for two years. Antl-fluoridation meeting held by the Jersey Anti-fluoridation Association—At a meeting of the Jersey Drag Hunt and Chase Club in was stated that, a profit of £1,500 had been made on the year.

May 8th: Churchill's Speech and May 9th: Liberation Day

Force 135 arriving

May 8th: Churchill's Speech and May 9th: Liberation Day

From the 75th Anniversary Booklet

Force 135

Britain had been considering plans to take back the Channel Islands since 1942. A military attack was soon ruled out however. The strength of German defence and inevitable heavy loss of life — among both attackers and civilians - made such an option unpalatable.

Instead, from late 1943 preparations began for a peaceful reoccupation following either German evacuation or surrender. Under the command of Brigadier Alfred Snow, Task Force 135 formed to plan and execute the operation

Through 1944 and into 1945, Snow's command assembled in the Plymouth area, training intensively in preparation for their liberating duties. None more so than the scattering of Jersey soldiers within its ranks. For them, the upcoming operation would be a deeply personal undertaking.

At the start of May 1945, as the war in Europe ended, they and the 6,000 other men of Force 135 were ready and waiting for Operation Nestegg to begin

The day of liberation, while not quite yet arrived, was at hand.

That drama had been most acutely felt during the final desperate winter of occupation. While SS Vega's precious arrival may have eased the threat of starvation, Islanders remained isolated and anxious over their unpredictable future. Especially unsettling was Hitler's appointment of a new German commander for the Channel Islands. Committed Nazi Vice Admiral Huffmeier ominously promised to, 'hold out...until final victory'.

Islanders could only hope it would be an Allied victory, to bring about a change in mind.

And on May 8th, hope was realised with the erection of loudspeakers permitted, to publicly broadcast Churchill's forthcoming victory speech.

Alongside that broadcast on 8 May, the Bailiff announced an agreed release of local political prisoners and Allied POWs. And there is no longer any restriction on di listening to radios, Coutanche told Islanders in emotional tones before leading the crowd in singing the National Anthem openly for the first time in nearly five years.

“And now our dear Channel Islands are also to be free...”

Prime Minister Winston Churchill's stirring words, publicly broadcast across St Helier, released a great outpouring of clapping and cheers. '...When "Winnie's" voice came over everyone was sure it was no dream,' recorded the Evening Post, 'all they had waited for had come true'

Cheers were loudest in St Helier's Royal Square where Jersey's Bailiff addressed excited crowds struggling to take everything in. There was a historic poignancy between that moment, Alexander Coutanche reflected, and one occurring in the same place nearly five years earlier. In 1940, a sombre, anxious crowd watched while workman painted a huge white cross on the square's historic paving stones

Churchill's speech and the Bailiff's words resulted in a boisterous evening of celebration across the Island and raised feverish anticipation for the following day.

Liberation: 9 May 1945

From early morning on 9 May, crowds began gathering in St Helier, unsure but eager to see what would happen. At just after 10 o'clock a huge cheer went up. A first British warship had been sighted rounding Noirmont Point and entering St Aubin's Bay. The liberators were finally in sight.

Ships bearing Force 135's advance guard had set-off from Plymouth on the previous day, bound first for Guernsey. Following a tense standoff, Brigadier Snow secured Elliffmeier's unconditional agreement. At 7.15am on 9 May, the German surrender was duly signed on the quarterdeck of HMS Bulldog, anchored off St Peter Port.

Transferring to HMS Beagle, Brigadier Snow then departed for Jersey. Signalling ahead, he ordered German representatives to a rendezvous off Elizabeth Castle, there to confirm acceptance of the surrender terms.

To the bemusement of Islanders, however, a frustrating delay ensued while the matter of just who should go to the Beagle played out. At last, just after midday, a small launch bearing the German fortress commander set off from the Albert Pier. Alongside the humbled Major General Wulf stood the jubilant, waving figure of Bailiff Alexander Coutanche, intent on witnessing the official end to German occupation.

Onboard HMS Beagle, Wulf confirmed his intention to obey the surrender order. In preparation for liberation, he furthermore agreed to remove all German forces from St Helier and begin disarming the garrison. Satisfied with progress, the Bailiff asked permission to send signals to the Prime Minister and King assuring the “...devotion of the Islanders”

By then, the first liberators were already on Jersey and being cheered themselves.

As the launch bearing Wulf and Coutanche had departed, another bringing a small reconnaissance party from HMS Beagle came alongside the Albert Pier. Mobbed by ecstatic crowds, Surgeon-Lieutenant Ronald McDonald and Sub-Lieutenant David Milln were carried on shoulders to reach the Harbour Office opposite Pomme d'Or Hotel.

From the office's first floor, Surgeon-Lieutenant McDonald briefly addressed the crowd outside. He offered profuse thanks for the warmth of reception, before, to great cheers from below, unfurling a huge British Union Flag from the window.

With that he gave signal for Jersey's Harbourmaster, Captain Harry Richmond, to raise the Union Flag, to the crowd's enormous delight. Wild cheering broke out, followed by lusty singing of the National Anthem.

Among a day of momentous events, they had just witnessed perhaps the most significant of all. With this first official flag-raising, Jersey had formerly transitioned from Nazi control back to British rule.
That day's events were far from over however. Soon after the Pomme d'Or flag raising, Bailiff Coutanche returned from HMS Beagle, to the elation of grateful Islanders who gathered to greet him.

With Allied aircraft roaring low overhead, a curious period of uncertainty followed. Had liberation happened? Was there more to come? To everyone's delight, at 2.30pm that afternoon a second British vessel nosed into the harbour and came alongside the New North Quay. Jersey's 'formal' liberation was about to begin.

Having gained German compliance, and the reconnaissance party's assurance, Lieutenant Colonel William Robinson, the appointed Island commander, brought his 23-strong force ashore. They were greeted by a sea of cheering Islanders, eager to see, and touch, these smiling 'Tommies'.

Robinson's intended destination was the Pomme d'Or Hotel, earmarked for his headquarters. Struggling to make headway through a mass of handshakes, hugs, slaps on the back and kisses, however, Robinson led his men into Ordinance Yard instead climbing the steps to Pier Road. Among his party was Captain Hugh Le Brocq, who had left with the Jersey Militia in 1940, and who now proudly had orders to takeover Fort Regent from German control.

Leaving Captain Le Brocq to secure the Fort and take down the Nazi flag flying over its ramparts, Robinson managed to commandeer a lorry which drove him slowly through besieging crowds to finally reach the Pomme d'Or. As German Naval Headquarters, the hotel still flew a huge swastika flag from its balcony, which Robinson ordered removed. Noticing Surgeon-Lieutenant McDonald's Union Flag hanging from the Harbour Office's window, he ordered this brought across to the, hotel.

Around 3.40pm, Lieutenant Colonel Robinson came out onto the hotel balcony to address the gathered crowds below. The ordeal of occupation was truly over, he emotionally announced, more troops will soon arrive to complete liberation, and the Germans taken away

From surrender to liberation: Jersey had come through one of the most dramatic periods in its history.

Enemy Occupation: June 1940 - December 1944

Enemy Occupation: June 1940 - December 1944

(from the Liberation 75 Booklet)

On a clear, warm day in June 1940, three low-flying German aircraft roared towards Jersey's southeast coast. To the horror of unsuspecting and unprepared Islanders, bombs crashed down and machine gun fire raked the ground. The attack left several dead, many injured, and a population cowed with uncertainty.

The shocking events of 28 June 1940 forcefully underlined an end to Jersey's 'phoney war'. After months of relative quiet, from mid-June a series of dramatic events had buffeted the Island. Among the most unsettling was the question of whether to leave or stay.

 

As France surrendered and British forces and officials departed, Islanders had been given a chance to evacuate. It was a difficult, stressful choice to make - with strictly limited time to decide. Leave, and face the uncertain prospects of unfamiliar life in the UK. Or stay, and face an unknown enemy widely portrayed in newspapers as ruthlessly cruel and aggressive.

The understandable initial response was a hasty one. Within a short time, 23,000 Islanders anxiously registered to depart on whatever vessels arrived to carry them away. It didn't take long, however, for more measured views to take hold.

Strengthened and calmed by Jersey's Bailiff, Alexander Coutanche, who announced his intention to stay, many stepped back from evacuating. This was the only home they knew after all. Family, friends, property, work were all firmly rooted in the Island's soil and soul. Right or wrong, leaving was out of the question.

By 28 June 1940, when the bombs fell, around 6,600 Islanders had gone. Most had decided to remain, however, and accept whatever fate brought. On 1 July 1940, they began finding out as German planes landed at the airport and occupation began.

At first, the decision to stay may have seemed the right one. Anxious to prove civilised credentials, the occupiers were correct and courteous. They permitted Jersey's government to continue, although reduced in size and powers. The police force and courts still functioned, upholding both Island laws and those imposed by the occupiers. Schools remained open, although obtaining teaching materials was a never-ending challenge as was the compulsory demand that pupils learn German.

Yet far off events would eventually shatter illusions. In response to Britain interning German civilians in Iran, Hitler ordered a retaliatory act against Channel Islanders. In September 1942, nearly 1,200 English-born residents were deported to internment camps in southern Germany.

A further Hitler demand dramatically shaped Jersey's occupation and changed the Island forever. Determined to hold these captured parts of Britain, he ordered the Channel Islands be fortified against invasion. By 1942, men and materials were pouring in.

Along Jersey's beautiful beaches, the Germans raised massive concrete walls and constructed menacing bunkers. Inland, sprawling artillery batteries and sinister tunnels spoiled pleasant fields and sleepy valleys. A tragic workforce toiled endlessly to fulfil enemy designs. Conscripted, forced or enslaved, they arrived from across occupied Europe.

 

Most shocking to witnessing Islanders were the class of workers termed 'slave labourers'. They had come from eastern Europe, captured as prisoners of war or seized from among civilian communities. From spartan camps across the Island, these unfortunates were marched out daily to work in the worst conditions while enduring the cruellest treatment.

Yet what could be done to oppose occupation, deportations and barbarism? With one German present for every four Islanders, active resistance was out of the question. Instead, many chose to make a passive stand: defacing German signs at night, concealing food from requisition, sharing news gleaned from banned radio sets, even slipping subversive notes into enemy pockets.

At great risk to themselves, a small but determined network of Islanders also sheltered escaped slave labourers, an act ending in imprisonment for some, even execution in one case.

Most people simply focused their attention on the strained business of daily life. While every attempt was made to continue as before, this became increasingly challenging as occupation ground on.

New laws restricted liberties. There were curfews to obey, banned organisations, limitations on public gatherings, forfeit of property and requisition of private cars.

Changed economic conditions stretched individual and family finances. Islanders receiving UK pensions lost their incomes. Occupation abruptly ended Jersey's tourism industry, severed routes to traditional export markets and curtailed businesses. Work — other than for the enemy - became increasingly scarce. Government schemes helped, constructing a road here, walls there, but as Occupation wore on the financial outlook was a dim one.

Daily essentials became increasingly scarce. Worn out clothes and shoes were patched and repaired rather than replaced. People burned wood during frequent shortages of gas and coal. Rubber hose replaced bicycle tires, acorns substituted for coffee beans, sea water for salt.

Requisitioning commissions carved up food stocks, so much left for Islanders, so much taken for the German forces. Yet never enough available to fully feed all. While every effort was made to diversify local farms into producing a wider range of crops, Jersey could not become self-sufficient in food. Everything was precious, nothing wasted. Luxury items became a distant memory, except to those who could afford to pay eye-watering black-market prices.

By mid-1944, as the Allies invaded Normandy, conditions for Islanders were sharply deteriorating even further. Shortages in food had already reduced rations considerably. With the American capture of St Malo in August, the flow of external supplies, including vital fuel and medicine, ceased.

Jersey was isolated, its occupiers under siege, its people facing the bleakest winter imaginable.

Some chose to escape. In tiny boats, they crossed wintery seas to the nearby French coast. Most, however, had no option but to remain. Their prayers were for higher powers to recognise Jersey's desperate plight and come, somehow, to Islanders' aid.

 

On 30 December 1944, the Red Cross ship SS Vega slipped into St Helier Harbour carrying a precious cargo of food parcels. Tense negotiations between Britain and Germany had come to a merciful fruition. Islanders would survive that last winter of occupation...just.

Gratefully, with the war in Europe clearly moving towards an end, Jersey could dare to look forward with rising hope to a longed-for liberation.

Sunday Reflections: Childish Images of Faith

"Only another child. And not a pleasant child." (J.B. Priestley, "The Magicians")

"US President Trump posted an AI-generated photo showing himself as the Pope ahead of this week’s gathering of cardinals to choose a new leader of the 1.4-billion-strong Catholic Church. It came just days after he joked he would “like to be Pope”. The White House then reposted it on its official X account."
www.thenewdaily.com.au/news/world/us-news/trump-news/2025/05/04/donald-trump-pope

Former Maryland Governor and Republication National Convention chair Michael Steele said Trump was like a 10-year-old child. And there is truth in that.

The language that Donald Trump uses when he posts on Social Media does show an infantile response, especially when he suffers any discomfort and criticism. He rants away like a ten year old child. This is not adult language, it is the language of a playground bully who has been caught out, and who lashes out as a form of defence.

Just look at this: 

“They are Negative Criminals who apologize to their subscribers and readers after I WIN ELECTIONS BIG, much bigger than their polls showed I would win, loose a lot of credibility, and then go on cheating and lying for the next cycle, only worse. They suffer from Trump Derangement Syndrome, and there is nothing that anyone, or anything, can do about it. THEY ARE SICK, almost only write negative stories about me no matter how well I am doing (99.9% at the Border, BEST NUMBER EVER!), AND ARE TRULY THE ENEMY OF THE PEOPLE!”

This is not the language of an adult. It is the rant of a child.

Peter Pan was, famously, the boy who never grew up. But while Donald Trump is a supreme example of this, he is not the only one. All of us, in one form or another, can fail to develop and grow in our personal life.

Many of those who have lost their faith, or even churchgoers themselves, often have a very naive belief. The folk-religion which puts "heaven" above somewhere, or thinks of an image of God as an old man with a white beard somewhere in the sky still retains a potency.

It is hardly surprising that Bishop John Robinson in "Honest to God" suggested that some of this imagery has lost its potency and we should try to find new images of God. Of course, his well intentioned book was rather spoiled by lurid tabloid headlines - "Bishop says our image of God must go"!

Often those who reject that image come up with something impersonal but drawn from elements of the known. C.S. Lewis commented that all God-language is metaphorical, and discarding one image does not mean we are discarding imagery:

"A girl I knew was brought up by ‘higher thinking’ parents to regard God as a perfect ‘substance’; later in life she realized that this had actually led her to think of Him as something like a vast tapioca pudding (to make matters worse, she disliked tapioca).”

‘I don’t believe in a personal God,’ says one, ‘but I do believe in a great spiritual force’. What he has not noticed is that the word ‘force’ has let in all sorts of images about winds and tides and electricity and gravitation…says another ‘I do believe we are all parts of one great Being which moves and works through us all’ — not noticing that he has merely exchanged the image of a fatherly and royal-looking man for the image of some widely extended gas of fluid.”

And the same is true with images of Jesus. How many people's image of Jersey is influenced by art - white, Anglo-Saxon, perhaps looking American or British, like Jeffrey Hunter or Robert Powell? 

In that respect, "The Chosen" - the TV show depicting events in the life of Jesus - is rather a breath of fresh air. The cast do not speak with an American accents but those depicting Jews (including the disciples) sound more Middle Eastern. The actor who plays Jesus is of mixed parentage - his father was born in Egypt and is of Syro-Lebanese descent; his mother is from Ireland. He does not fit the stereotype.

Of course "The Chosen" is not perfect, but by giving us a rather different Jesus, it challenges our everyday images. In order not to remain with childish images of faith, we need this challenge. We need to rethink our images when they remain those we grew up with as children. And we certainly need to break away from the images invoked by some popular hymns which we sang as children, and which, to be honest, are images which perpetuate infantile depictions of God:

"The cattle are lowing, The Baby awakes, But little Lord Jesus, No crying He makes"
"Christian children all must be. Mild, obedient, good as He"
"The rich man in his castle, The poor man at his gate, God made them, high and lowly, And ordered their estate."

C.S. Lewis, writing in "A Grief Observed", put this breaking of the images and remaking them very well.

“My idea of God is not a divine idea. It has to be shattered time after time. He shatters it himself. He is the great iconoclast. Could we not almost say that this shattering is one of the marks of his presence? The Incarnation is the supreme example; it leaves all previous ideas of the Messiah in ruins.”

What he writes reminds me of his depiction of Aslan, who is encapsulated for me as an image of God in the simple phrase "he is not a tame lion".

Or as, the Bible puts it: “Behold, I make all things new.”