Owl Dreams

One from the archive, from 28/04/2005.

This strange poem came about as follows: I helped back then to moderate a Yahoo Group called "Norviscensian Seekers", and one of the members posted a very strange dream about an Owl on the site, and asked for help in interpreting it; after making some suggestions, I was also asked to turn the dream into a poem, and this is the result.

Owl Dreams

I dreamed of night, the coolest air
Fresh breezes, night sounds here
I looked out through the window
Then came rush of air, an inflow
Bring with it a black bag blown
A portent perhaps, for me shown.

I looked inside, bird was flapping
Trying to free itself, so struggling
To get out of the bag. I set it free
An owl, so very beautiful to see
Black and white feathers, eyes
Glowing and yellow, scrutinise.

Out flew the owl, happy but weak
It landed on my desk, as if to seek
A place of rest. Then its back broke
Somehow, and suddenly it spoke
Saying "Thank you", lay quite still
As if a task was finished to fulfil.

The owl lost its feathers, lay bare
I stroked it with pity, held it near
Suddenly it gave a loud cry, died
I saw it broken, bare, and I cried
It passed away within my hands
Departed now to promised lands.

A priest came to my room, he said
That this owl had been sacrificed
And must be offered up, held high
In Holy Mass, the time draws nigh
It must be given up for so many
This was a miracle for all to see.

I dreamed of night, moon so bright
I was on a road, within my sight
Thousands of people on this way
Family and friends too, so to pray
All going to church, a pilgrimage
To see the owl, so wise and sage.

Upon the altar, there was the owl
And ancient peoples wearing cowl
To modern people from the present
All came to see the owl ascendant
On the altar, and we are rejoicing
Then I awoke, and it was morning.

I dreamed this night, owls fleeting
To a parliament of owls meeting
There was praise and adoration
Three owls there were, and one
Feathers white as wool or snow
Renewed, I saw my owl once more
In the opening of dream's door.

1986 - 40 years ago - July - Part 1

1986 - 40 years ago - July - Part 1

June 30—July 6

St Clement Deputy Tony Perkins is arrested and charged with committing an act of indecency at the Weighbridge toilets. Perkins (42), is alleged to have committed the act with James Clarke, a 36-year-old Manchester man. Trinity Centenier Brian Richardson evicts a mother and her baby from a flat at 28 Rouge Bouillon. It is alleged in a Royal Court action that Miss Julie Collins was warned on previous occasions for making too much noise.

A shortage of nurses at the General Hospital results in a review of staffing levels being conducted by the States Personnel Department.

Figures compiled by the Drug Squad show that the number of drug offences committed in Jersey during the first half of 1986 is close to the total for the whole of 1985. The figures support the view of the Police Court Magistrate, Mr Bob Day, who observes during a case that more drugs seem to be getting into the Island.

Prince Edward visits Jersey, arriving at the Airport twice in two days. His first arrival is unscheduled when fog  prevents his landing in Guernsey, but his second marks the beginning of a full programme of events, including visits to youth clubs and a garden party at Government House.

Tourism's chief officer, Mr Leslie Rebindaine, who joined the department in 1948 and has headed it for the past 23 years, retires. He is succeeded by his deputy, Mr John Layzell.

Ian Drew, the Museum employee who tried to set fire to his place of work to cover up the theft of artefacts worth £330,000, begins a six-year jail sentence imposed by the Royal Court.

July 7-13

A joint plan of action is agreed by the Tourism Committee and the Jersey Hotel and Guest House Association to recover some of the declining holiday traffic to the Island. Tourism is to spend £15,000 on the plan, which will include advertising in trade and national newspapers.

An expert from the. National Radiological Protection Board reassures Channel Islanders that the French nuclear installations on the Cotentin Peninsular pose no threat big enough to warrant evacuation. Dr Frances Fry makes the assertion when visiting Jersey to discuss methods of monitoring local radiation methods.

Motorcyclist Mr Anthony Allard (37) is taken to the General Hospital with serious injuries after his machine is in collision with car near the People's Park.

A marine painting by Jersey artist P. J. Ouless is sold at auction by Langlois for £17,000, £5,000 more than it had been expected to fetch.

The Chief Officer of the States Police, Mr David Parkinson, says that the public need to be more conscious of the threat posed by crime. In his annual report he takes the view that many crimes would not occur if ordinary people were more vigilant.

There are signs that Jersey's cattle exporting industry is heading for a boom following a record number of inquiries at the Royal Show at Stoneleigh in the UK. There are doubts, however, that the industry has the stock available to meet demand.

The Education Committee lodges a report asking the States to extend the Job Opportunity Scheme for a further three years.

Where has all the lament gone? – Part 1

Where has all the lament gone? – Part 1

Overview

Vineyard, Bethel and charismatic worship songs often intentionally trade traditional verse-chorus structures for circular, chant-like formats, verse, chorus, bridge. This design prioritizes emotional intimacy, spiritual reflection, and prolonged corporate focus over standard musical progression. This apparent "lack" of musical structure is a deliberate choice tailored for specific functions:

• The "Intimacy" Motif: Vineyard pioneer John Wimber deliberately moved church music away from "songs about God" to "songs to God," using repetitive, first-person lyrics that allowed worshippers to focus solely on their personal spiritual experience.
• Progressive Flow: Rather than mapping out standard pop structures, Vineyard music often relies on a five-stage "journey" model (Call to Worship, Engagement, Expression, Visitation, Giving of Substance). Songs build gradually, using extended vamps and repetitions to facilitate this immersive experience.
• Simplicity over Complexity: Because the movement emerged organically from the Jesus People Movement, many of these songs were built on simple three-chord progressions. This was designed so that local congregations could learn them easily and not be distracted by complex musicianship.

A Musical and Theological Divide

This music is very different theologically from the songs of John L Bell or Sydney Carter.

The differences between the Vineyard/Charismatic movement and John L. Bell (of the [Iona Community](https://hymnary.org/person/Bell_JohnL)), and Sydney Carter, is that they represent entirely distinct worldviews regarding what a worship song is meant to do.

While Vineyard focuses heavily on an individual's private emotional and spiritual encounter with the divine, Bell and Carter centre their work on the collective, the physical, and the highly political.

1. Vertical vs. Horizontal Orientation

The starkest contrast is the direction of the communication:

Vineyard is purely vertical: The lyrics are overwhelmingly direct addresses to God ("I love You," "Draw me close"). The physical world and its problems disappear so that the individual can experience an intimate, mystical encounter with the Holy Spirit.

Bell and Carter are horizontal: Their music looks outward at the community and the world. For example, John L. Bell’s famous hymn The Summons (Will You Come and Follow Me?) asks thirteen challenging, concrete questions about serving the poor, the prisoner, and the stranger

2. Personal Sanctuary vs. Social Justice

The role of faith in society differs fundamentally across these:

Vineyard provides a refuge: It seeks a temporary escape from the brokenness of the world to sit in the therapeutic peace of God's presence. The focus is on personal healing, peace, and spiritual renewal.

John L. Bell addresses systemic pain: As a voice of the Iona Community, Bell explicitly wrote songs because traditional hymnals lacked music addressing unemployment, homelessness, child abuse, and institutional injustice. His theology states that you cannot worship a holy God while ignoring a broken society.

Sydney Carter targets the institutional church: Carter, coming from a Quaker background, wrote radical folk-hymns that deliberately broke the mould of safe, churchy language. His songs, like When I Needed a Neighbour, equate loving God directly with tangible, material aid to human beings.

3. Absolute Certainty vs. Embracing Doubt

The emotional and psychological posture of the worshipper is treated very differently:

Vineyard demands surrender and victory: The corporate atmosphere relies on affirming God's goodness, power, and immediate presence. There is little room for unresolved tension or existential scepticism in a standard charismatic worship set.

Sydney Carter normalizes doubt: Carter openly stated that he wrote songs from the margins of faith. Songs like Friday Morning (written from the perspective of the thief on the cross) fiercely question divine justice, showcasing a theology where wrestling, anger, and scepticism are valid forms of worship.

4. Escapism vs. Incarnation

How the physical world is viewed shapes the musical delivery:

Vineyard is transcendent: The music works to lift the worshipper out of their everyday reality into a spiritual plane.

Carter and Bell are deeply incarnational: [Sydney Carter’s Lord of the Dance](https://stainer.co.uk/composer/sydney-carter/) uses the visceral, sweaty, earthy metaphor of dance to explain Christ’s ministry. Bell heavily utilizes earthy Scottish folk melodies and global rhythms, anchoring the theology in local culture, physical bodies, and communal singing rather than abstract spiritual states.

I shall now review specific songs in the next blogs on the subject, starting with "Cornerstone" below.

Cornerstone

Hillsong’s Cornerstone is an excellent choice for starting this exercise. It is one of the most widely sung modern worship anthems in the world, explicitly taking the solid theological foundation of Edward Mote’s 1834 traditional hymn, My Hope Is Built on Nothing Less, and filtering it through a contemporary charismatic framework.

Analysing Cornerstone line-by-line reveals a fascinating tension: the song features high-quality historical lyrics but drops into a structure that has several theological failings.

Verse 1: "I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly trust in Jesus’ Name."

The original hymn writer warning against relying on "sweet frames", emotional highs, internal feelings, or favourable life circumstances.

While the words warn against emotionalism, the modern musical architecture of Cornerstone works against it. The slow, ambient pads, standard four-chord swell, and driving crescendo are engineered precisely to produce an intense psychological "sweet frame." The environment encourages the worshipper to mistake a goose bump-inducing musical climax for an encounter with the Holy Spirit, turning the hymn's warning inside out. 

Chorus: "Weak made strong in the Saviour’s love. Through the storm, He is Lord..."

A declaration that human vulnerability is overcome by divine power, establishing Christ as King over any life storm.

In charismatic theology, weakness is a temporary problem to be instantly cured by divine power. If we take Moltmann’s theology of the cross, this argues that God does not simply vaporize weakness with power; God enters into weakness. Christ did not become "strong" on the cross; he died in utter vulnerability. By framing the storm solely as something to be magically conquered ("Through the storm, He is Lord"), the song risks bypassing the holy work of sitting in solidarity with those for whom the storm hasn't stopped.

Verse 2: "When darkness seems to hide His face, I rest on His unchanging grace."

A profound acknowledgment of the "dark night of the soul," where God feels completely absent.

This is the most biblically honest line of the song, yet it highlights what is missing. The song treats darkness as a private, individual emotional problem ("hide His face [from me]"). It completely misses the cosmic, systemic darkness of a world filled with war, poverty, and structural oppression. The solution offered is entirely individualistic: I rest on His grace so that my anchor holds. At no point does the song suggest that when darkness hides God's face, the worshipper might find His face by looking horizontally at the community or serving a broken neighbour.

Verse 3: "Faultless stand before the throne."

A classic eschatological vision of the final judgment, where the believer stands vindicated before God's heavenly throne.

This is a disembodied, escapist eschatology. The song points the worshipper's ultimate gaze completely out of this world, looking forward to a trumpet sound when we leave earth behind to stand before a heavenly throne. Moltmann's Theology of Hope argues that Christian hope is not a vertical escape hatch to heaven; it is the radical belief that God’s kingdom is coming down to renew and heal this physical earth. By aiming the corporate imagination solely at a future, individual celestial rescue, it neutralizes the church’s political and social responsibility to fight for justice in the present.

In conclusion...

Cornerstone is a brilliant piece of modern song writing, but it exemplifies the exact divide noticed earlier. It utilizes a historic, horizontal-capable hymn text but strips out any communal responsibility. It leaves the modern churchgoer in an isolated vertical bubble: my hope, my anchor, my storm, my rescue.

Reverse Engineering Politicians Retirement Bonuses: The Case of Simon Crowcroft

I'm still waiting for an exact breakdown by an FOI of the workings out of the retirement package paid to long serving States Members who just stood down, and has been in the States over 19 years. Here is as far as I can go by back analysis of the figures for Simon Crowcroft.

1. Put all the numbers on the table

Using the current States Member annual remuneration

$$S=\mathrm{\pounds }\mathrm{59,874.72}\Rightarrow m=\frac{S}{12}=\mathrm{\pounds }\mathrm{4,989.56}$$

so one “month of salary” is $m=\mathrm{\pounds }\mathrm{4,989.56}$.

From the Bailiwick Express/JEP lists:

Person	Status	Payment (£)	Multiple of $m$ (approx.)
Simon Crowcroft	Retired	36,694.06	7.35
Geoff Southern	Retired	30,311.58	6.07
Deidre Mezbourian	Retired	25,571.50	5.13
Kevin Lewis	Unsuccessful	25,571.50	5.13
Steve Luce	Unsuccessful	18,087.16	3.62
Sam Mézec	Unsuccessful	15,280.53	3.06
Rob Ward	Unsuccessful	9,979.12	2.00
Mike Jackson	Unsuccessful	9,979.12	2.00
Steve Ahier	Unsuccessful	9,979.12	2.00
David Warr	Unsuccessful	4,989.56	1.00
Raluca Kovacs	Unsuccessful	4,989.56	1.00

So every figure is a multiple of the same monthly salary $m$.

2. The exact mathematical form for Crowcroft

For Crowcroft, the payment is:

$$P_{\text{Crowcroft}}=\mathrm{\pounds }\mathrm{36,694.06}$$

Expressed in terms of the monthly salary:

$$N_{\text{Crowcroft}}=\frac{P_{\text{Crowcroft}}}{m}=\frac{\mathrm{36,694.06}}{\mathrm{4,989.56}}\approx 7.35$$

So the exact calculation is:

$$\boxed{{\displaystyle P_{\text{Crowcroft}}=7.35\times \frac{\mathrm{\pounds }\mathrm{59,874.72}}{12}\approx \mathrm{\pounds }\mathrm{36,694.06}}}$$

The “7.35” is the scheme’s chosen multiplier for his band (long‑serving, retiring Constable with ≥19 years’ continuous service).

3. What band structure can we infer?

3.1. Clear, simple bands

From the one‑term and two‑term casualties:

• One term (Warr, Kovacs):

$$P=1\times m=\mathrm{\pounds }\mathrm{4,989.56}$$

• Two terms (Ward, Jackson, Ahier):

$$P=2\times m=\mathrm{\pounds }\mathrm{9,979.12}$$

These are perfectly integer multiples. That strongly suggests a base rule:

$$\text{Base loss‑of‑office payment}=(\text{number of completed terms})\times m$$

for ordinary Members with one or two consecutive terms.

3.2. Longer service and/or senior roles

For the others, the multiples are non‑integer:

• Mezec (three consecutive terms, former minister):

$$N\approx 3.06$$

• Luce (about 15 years, former minister):

$$N\approx 3.62$$

• Lewis (long service, Deputy then Constable):

$$N\approx 5.13$$

These look like:

$$N\approx (\text{terms})+(\text{extra fraction for senior roles/longer service})$$

i.e. a base “per term” component plus a top‑up for ministerial/Constable service or longer continuous service. The exact fractions (0.06, 0.62, 1.13 months) are too irregular to be simple integers, which points to a bespoke band table in the 2023 determination rather than a single neat formula.

3.3. Retirement bands (≥19 years)

For the three retirees (all ≥19 years’ continuous service):

• Mezbourian: $N\approx 5.13$

• Southern: $N\approx 6.07$

• Crowcroft: $N\approx 7.35$

So there is clearly a separate retirement schedule for long‑serving Members, with higher multipliers than equivalent loss‑of‑office bands, and with Crowcroft at the top—reflecting both length of service and parish role.

In other words, the determination almost certainly contains something like:

• Loss‑of‑office table: bands by number of terms and seniority.

• Retirement table (≥19 years): higher bands, again differentiated by role/length.

But the public articles only show the outputs, not the internal band table.

4. Underlying principles (from the determination and reporting)

From the Remuneration Reviewer’s 2023 determination and the coverage:

• Unit of calculation: All payments are expressed as a multiple of the current monthly salary:

$$\text{Payment}=N\times m$$

• Two distinct schemes:

  • Loss‑of‑office for unsuccessful candidates.

  • Retirement for long‑serving Members (≥19 years’ continuous service in 2026).

• Service‑based and role‑based bands: More terms and more senior roles (minister, Constable) attract higher $N$.

• Special, one‑off 2026 arrangements: The 2026 band tables are bespoke; from 2030 the Reviewer moves to a simpler rule:

$$\text{Future loss‑of‑office}=(\text{years of service})\times m\text{capped after four years}$$

for unsuccessful candidates with at least two years’ continuous service.

5. How consistent is the reverse‑engineered picture?

• Consistent: Every single payment is a clean multiple of the same $m$, and short‑service Members follow a simple “per term” pattern (1 month for one term, 2 months for two terms).

• Patterned but opaque: Longer‑service and retirement payments clearly follow higher bands, but the exact band thresholds and top‑up rules (e.g. how much extra for being a minister vs a Constable vs simply very long‑serving) are not published in the news reports or on the States site.

• So the best we can do mathematically is:

  • State the exact formula for Crowcroft in terms of $m$.

  • Show that all other payments fit the same structure.

  • Infer that the 2023 determination contains a band table assigning:

$$N_{\text{band}}\in \{1,2,3.06,3.62,5.13,6.07,7.35,\dots \}$$

according to service length and role.

Simon Crowcroft was the longest-serving politician in the States Assembly, serving continuously for 29 years and 6 months (December 1996 to June 2026). [1, 2, 3]

[1] https://www.facebook.com

[2] https://www.itv.com

[3] https://je.linkedin.com

[4] https://www.bailiwickexpress.com

[5] https://www.facebook.com

[6] https://www.bailiwickexpress.com

[7] https://www.bailiwickexpress.com

[8] https://www.bailiwickexpress.com

[9] https://www.bailiwickexpress.com

[10] https://statesassembly.je

[11] https://flow.je

[12] https://www.bbc.com

[13] https://www.itv.com

More Short Stories: The Hermit of Patmos

A short story based around the Book of Revelation, the hymn "Veni Creator Spiritus", and the ancient order of Compline. Following John A.T. Robinson and others, I think there is more evidence for the Neronian persecution than the Domitianic dating.

The Hermit of Patmos

The nights are the hardest.

When the wind claws at the cave mouth and the sea roars like a wounded beast, I feel again the smoke of Rome in my lungs, the screams of the faithful carried off to Nero’s gardens. I see the torches, living torches of Christians, tied to wooden posts, set alight, burning in the emperor’s courtyards. I hear the laughter. I smell the flesh.

Rome burned and temples and porticoes were destroyed in the conflagration. I saw the smoke arising from the fallen city of seven hills like incense of ruin. And the Christians paid the price, a scapegoat for Nero, for we are seen as a pernicious superstition, a disease, spreading into the capitol and across the world.

O God, come to our aid.
O Lord, make haste to help us..

I whisper into the dark, come, Creator Spirit, visit the minds of your people. Visit mine, for it is breaking.

I came to Patmos as a fugitive, but I have become a hermit by necessity. The island is barren, a spine of rock thrust from the sea. I eat little, sleep less, and pray always. Yet prayer is no longer the gentle rhythm it once was. It is a trembling, a fire, a weight. For I have seen what no man should see, the celestial fire.

Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire,
and lighten with celestial fire.

It began on a day of thunder. I had been fasting, my body thin as driftwood, when the sky split open with a sound like iron tearing. I fell to the ground, clutching my ears, but the voice entered me like a blade of light: “Fear not.” And then the vision came, bright as the sun, terrible as the storm.

I saw the Son of Man, eyes like flame, hair as white as snow, and his eyes were like blazing fire, feet like burnished bronze. His voice was the voice that stilled the waves of Galilee, yet now it shook the foundations of the world. Around Him seven stars burned, and in His hand was a sword of purest light. I remember crying out, “I am not worthy! I am dust, I am ash!” But He touched me, and strength returned to my bones.

Since that day, the visions have not ceased.

At times I see the throne—high, radiant, encircled by an emerald rainbow. I see the four living creatures crying, “Holy, holy, holy.” I see the elders casting their crowns like sparks before the One who lives forever. And I, a broken man on a forgotten island, tremble at the glory.

Other times I see darker things. Beasts rising from the sea, crowned with blasphemies. A dragon whose tail sweeps the stars from the sky. A woman clothed with the sun, pursued by the ancient serpent. And the smoke of Babylon rising like incense of ruin.

When these visions come, I clutch my cloak and whisper the hymn that has become my anchor: enkindle our senses with light, pour love into our hearts. For without that love, I would be lost. You, O Lord, are in the midst of us and we are called by your name; leave us not, O Lord our God.

Enable with perpetual light
the dullness of our blinded sight.

Tonight, as the moon climbs over the jagged rocks, I feel the weight of the world pressing upon me again. I think of the brothers and sisters who died in Rome, of Peter and Paul, now long dead. I think of the ones still suffering. I think of the Church, small, scattered, hunted, and I wonder how such a fragile flock can endure the wolves. These are savage wolves that have come among us, not sparing our flock.

Then the vision returns, not in thunder this time, but in stillness. A city descends from heaven, radiant as a bride. Its walls gleam with jasper; its gates are pearls; its streets shine like gold refined in fire. And from within it comes a voice like a river: “Behold, I make all things new.”

My tears fall freely. The persecutions, the flames, the exile, the loneliness, none of it is the final word. The final word is glory. The final word is peace. The final word is God. There will be no more night: we will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for God will be our light, in this new world, this new creation, reborn from the ashes of the old.

I rise, steady at last, and whisper into the night: Maranatha, come Lord Jesus, and make this broken world anew.

Enough is Enough

This was heavily influenced in style after re-reading part of Edward Carpenter's "Towards Democracy", and also towards the end by John V Taylor's prophetic book "Enough is Enough".

Enough is Enough

The heat death of the universe, one day:
But not now, now is the day that we pray
For an end to exhausting, oppressive heat;
The Lord Ra sits angry upon his Regal seat,
And looks down with scorn upon all men;
Praises move him not, not pleas, no amen
Can touch his implacable majesty, his face
Turned grim and angry at all lesser beasts;
And the sun, at his command, is like yeast
Rising, yeast within the oven, yeast so hot:
A thousand years of civilisation come to rot,
As dung heaps when he stretches his hand,
As hot as iron in the furnace, desert sand,
And uncaring, those priests of Egypt in vain
Call upon him, but he is deaf, and would fain
Destroy within the noonday sun, Ra now rises,
And buildings are no refuge to a curse devises
Fallen upon mankind. The air heats and takes
Strength from even the strong,and it makes
A folly of those who deny their action, their part
In a catastrophe from the very industrial heart
Of man, from the burning, the oil underground:
Ancient forests exhumed and made to sound
A revolution in machines, that comes to unmake,
The world. What can we do, for can we forsake
The bright baubles of excess, of consumer greed,
And return to our Shalom, of what we just need;
So that Ra may be dethroned, we hear a word,
Softly spoken, but heed it, let it be heard
To say the true amen that enough is enough,
And however hard, how difficult or tough,
This is the word to touch us through the strife,
And to challenge us: choose not death but life.

The Islander: New Bishop Inducts New Dean in 1985

New Bishop Inducts New Dean in 1985

On the 18th of this month two men with new positions vis-à-vis Jersey will come together in a tradition that is hundreds of years old. One will be Bishop Colin James, recently enthroned in Winchester Cathedral, and the other Basil Arthur O'Ferrall. The Venerable Basil O'Ferrall will be sworn in as Jersey's new Dean at the Royal Court in the morning and installed and inducted by the new Bishop as Dean and Rector of St Helier in the evening.

Why should the Bishop of Winchester be involved in such an ancient ceremony? Only because in 1496, when all Channel Islands ties with Normandy had finally been broken, it was no longer considered appropriate for the Islands to be in the French Diocese of Coutances. Henry VII bribed the Pope of that time to give permission for the Channel Isles to be transferred to Salisbury. Another petition by Henry to the Pope, three years later, and a final transference was made to the Diocese of Winchester.

Habits die hard, however, and quite ignoring the Pope's Bulls, the Bishops of Coutances continued to confirm, ordain and induct in the Channel Islands. Moreover, Winchester, being even further away, seemed in no hurry to exert its proper authority. As late as 1564, we find the Bishop of Coutances, in England as French Ambassador, asking to be paid for the services he had rendered to the Channel Islands.

250 years wait

Finally, though, the Church of England decided that this Diocesan Controversy had to be resolved. In 1568 it ordered the Channel Isles to be "separated for ever from the Diocese of Coutances and perpetually united to Winchester". Did the Bishop of Winchester then set sail forthwith to fulfil his duties? Not a bit of it! Jersey men had to wait over 250 years for the first visit of their Bishop.

As Jersey had always been separated, even in the Coutances days, from its Bishop, it felt the need, soon after their Duke of Normandy conquered England, of having someone on the spot to be responsible for ecclesiastical affairs in the islands. So one Robert Merlin is mentioned as Dean of Jersey as early as 1180. But Jersey's Dean is not the same as on the mainland. His full title is "Dean of a Peculiar of the Crown" by which he is appointed. As well as being Dean, he is also Rector of a Parish — for the last 132 years of St Helier — and Judge of the Ecclesiastical Court.

In fact, so close is a Dean of Jersey's authority to that of a Bishop, that since the 14th century he has been entitled to display a crozier or crook on his official seal, just as a Bishop or Abbot would have. Today, his duties are as diverse as sitting with the St Helier Churchwardens on the Parish Wel-fare Board, and opening the proceedings of the Ecclesiastical Court, the States and Parish Assemblies with the traditional prayers in French. More importantly, as head of the Anglican Church in Jersey, his main and difficult task is to guard its traditions while, at the same time, making them relevant to the congregations of today.

Basil O'Ferrall will be the 32nd Dean of Jersey, but he has examples before him of quite "un-Deanish" behaviour — which he would be wise not to emulate. Imagine a 20th century Dean being labelled an outlaw, a traitor or a rebel leader!

In the 14th century Dean Pierre Falayse was outlawed because he dared to usurp the power of the Crown, and his successor, Geoffroi de Carteret, was forever being involved in lawsuits. Later, there was

Dean Bandinel was Jersey's version of the Vicar of Bray. As Rector of St Brelade in 1601, he was a Calvanist, but twelve years later, as Dean, he had to re-establish Anglicanism in the Island. In the Civil War he became leader of the Parliamentarians, though still continuing to pray for the King. When there was a swing in favour of the Royalists, however, his old enemy, the Royalist de Carteret, had him thrown into prison.

Fearful of the fate that awaited him and his son in Gorey Castle, he decided to try to escape to England. So one stormy night saw Dean Bandinel and his son dangling from a rope attached to a small window at the top of the Castle. As the rope was too short the Dean's son fell on to the rocks below, injuring himself severely. As the rope was not strong enough, when the Dean started to climb down it broke and he too was hurled on to the rocks, sustaining frightful and fatal injuries.

At the end of the 18th century Dean Dupre's girth was attributed to the number of turkeys he had eaten — bought by selling the Communion Wine! For getting the Privy Council to reverse the Royal Court's decision concerning an unsavoury character (the Rev. Edward Le Vavasseur dit Durell) Dean Hue was so venomously attacked by the newspapers of the time, that he openly declared his regret at ever having decided to come to Jersey in the first place!

Many, however, will be the good wishes of the Island that, after the Venerable Basil O'Ferrall has been installed and inducted by Winchester's new Bishop, the Island's new Dean will thoroughly enjoy and relish his term of office in Jersey and not regret that he came here.

(Compiled from research by Leslie Sinel).

Senator Lyndon Farnham's Q&A

 

Senator Lyndon Farnham secured the Assembly’s backing to become Jersey’s next Chief Minister after an hour of questioning that tested his plans on housing, health, spending, the environment and political judgement. 

He outlined several “clear priorities” for the next four years: maintaining sustainable public finances, boosting economic growth, improving affordability and housing, strengthening health and public services, and raising government performance. He pledged to build consensus while staying focused on delivering outcomes islanders expect.

States Members pressed him heavily on public spending. Farnham assured Deputy Tom Coles that fiscal discipline would mean cutting waste and inefficiency rather than reducing support for vulnerable islanders, emphasising that help must be “properly targeted.”

On Fort Regent, he said the first draft redevelopment vision had been shared with young people and that, if plans stay on track, the site should reopen by 2030. He called the Fort’s long-term decay “unacceptable”.

The cost-of-living crisis dominated discussion. Farnham acknowledged Jersey’s limited control over inflation due to reliance on imports but said government could still act by improving efficiency, reducing fees and regulation, and promoting competition. He stressed this would be a high priority.

Health spending drew scrutiny from Deputy Louise Doublet. Farnham argued that significant post‑Covid cost pressures required eliminating duplication and inefficiency across the public sector and arms‑length bodies.

On housing, he noted that many approved developments remain stalled due to inadequate infrastructure, particularly water and drainage. Current roadworks form part of efforts to fix this. He said the next Island Plan will be one of Jersey’s most important documents.

Farnham also signalled that some environmental targets—such as banning fossil‑fuel car imports by 2030—may need to be slowed to remain realistic.

A tense moment came when Deputy Montfort Tadier questioned External Relations Minister Ian Gorst’s decision to provide a character reference for disgraced Guernsey politician Jonathan Le Tocq. Farnham said “judgement is a prerequisite” for all ministers.

He must now present his proposed ministerial team by 26 June.

More Short Stories: Dean Annesley and the Hope of Freedom

The story heavily features the evening hymn “All praise to Thee, my God, this night” (also known as “Glory to Thee, my God, this night”), ending with Thomas Ken's famous Doxology. Strictly speaking, although Ken’s hymn was written in 1674, before William’s landing in 1688, the hymn would not have been widely known. However, I hope the reader can forgive this small anachronism.

Dean Annesley and the Hope of Freedom
A story of Exeter Cathedral

Dean Annesley stood beneath the great Norman arches of Exeter Cathedral, the last notes of “All praise to Thee, my God, this night “drifting upward into the soaring vaulting. The choirboys’ voices faded like candle‑smoke, leaving the vast space trembling with the memory of harmony. Outside, November winds pressed against the ancient stones, harbingers of the news from the coast, that William of Orange had arrived with his army in Devon, come to deliver England from the tyranny of King James II. It was a kingdom poised on the edge of change.

He remained in his stall long after the congregation had gone, his hands resting on the worn oak, his breath clouding faintly in the cold. The candles along the choir flickered, casting long shadows across the tombs of bishops and canons. Tomorrow, if the whispers were true, William of Orange would ride into Exeter, and bring deliverance.

Annesley closed his eyes. Only months earlier he had stood in this very place, refusing to read King James II’s Declaration of Indulgence, a command that violated both law and conscience. He had felt the weight of the Crown pressing upon him, the threat of dismissal, imprisonment, disgrace. Yet he had resisted. Not for rebellion’s sake, but for the Anglican settlement, he had sworn to uphold: Scripture, reason, and the ordered tradition that Richard Hooker had defended so nobly. Annesley had declared he would rather be hanged at the doors of his cathedral than that the declaration should be read there.

Hooker was born in Heavitree, not far from Exeter. In his “Ecclesiastical Polity”, he had argued that church governance and the laws of the realm must be bound by redeemed human reason and the rule of law, rather than the arbitrary, absolute whims of a monarch. The laws protecting the national church were sacred and could not be single-handedly overwritten by royal decree. And yet King James II had bypassed Parliament to alter religious laws, and violated this. Although nearly a hundred years separated Annesley and Hooker, he stood firmly on the foundations laid down by Hooker during the Elizabethan settlement.

How often had he drawn strength from Hooker’s calm, measured prose, written in an age no less turbulent than his own. Hooker had argued that the Church of England was neither Rome nor Geneva, but a middle way shaped by charity, learning, and the quiet confidence that truth need not shout to be heard.

Teach me to live, that I may dread
The grave as little as my bed…

The hymn’s words lingered in his mind. Tonight they felt less like poetry and more like a prayer for a nation. A verger passed silently through the choir, gathering books. “A strange evening, Dean,” he murmured. “The city is restless. Inns full, many whispering in corners. They say the Prince is near.” Annesley nodded. “England has waited long for deliverance. But deliverance must come with order, not chaos.”

He rose and walked slowly down the nave. The great west window glowed faintly with the last light of day, caught in a perpetual sunrise, a patchwork of fragments of saints and prophets and clear glass, all that remained after the Puritan soldiers had destroyed it. Beneath them, the stones bore the marks of centuries: the scars of the Civil War, the soot of old candles, the footsteps of pilgrims who had prayed for kings, for peace, for mercy. He wondered what tomorrow’s pilgrims would pray for. He knew many of the Cathedral’s cathedral's canons and prebendaries were terrified. Should they stay, and face treason if William failed?

At the crossing Annesley paused, listening to the cathedral breathe. To the side of him, the massive, decorative tin organ pipes loomed above him like a forest of silver. He imagined the sound that would fill the space when the news finally broke , when William’s banner was raised in the city, when the people poured into the Close, when hope, long suppressed, found its voice again.

Yet hope alone was not enough. England needed steadiness. England needed the very thing Hooker had given her: a Church rooted deeply enough to withstand the storms of kings.

O may my soul on Thee repose… 

He whispered the line into the stillness.

Outside, a bell tolled the hour. The wind shifted, carrying with it the distant sound of horses on the London road. And on that road was Bishop Lamplugh, who had delivered a fiery public address urging the people of his diocese to stay fiercely loyal to the Catholic King James II before fleeing three days before to support King James II in London.

Annesley drew his cloak around him and stepped into the nave’s shadowed length. Tomorrow, he thought, the Prince would come. And when he did, Exeter Cathedral, this house of prayer, this witness to England’s conscience, would stand ready, just as it always had. And he recalled as a prayer those words of Bishop Thomas Ken, ending that great evening hymn:

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

The Railway

One from the archive. This was written in Exeter, Winter 1977, a cold winter although the snow only came the following March. I was at the time in student halls of residence - Murray House, Duryard Halls (now demolished) and my window faced out to trees, and beyond that, the railway lines, so when it wa open I could hear the trains going by. Not steam trains, of course, that is poetic licence in the picture,

The Railway

Shunting, groaning, squeaking
The train rumbles on
Into the station

The doors open, the crowds rush out
While other crowds rush in
At the station

The whistle blows, the train is off
Steaming, moaning, rattling
Out of the station

At last the moon breaks through the clouds
The Railway is empty now
By the station

The Islander: The Island Games 1985

The 1985 Inter-Island Games were the first Island Games and were held in Isle of Man from 18 to 24 July 1985, as part of the Isle of Man International Year of Sport.

Jersey was one of fifteen Islands represented at the inaugural Island Games held in the Isle of Man during July. The week long events provided a string of sports which were very well supported: cycling, football, swimming, volleyball, badminton, athletics and a number of different shooting events were all represented.

The Games opened with a parade along the Promenade of Douglas to Villa Marina Gardens, where all the teams assembled. The opening ceremony was undertaken by H.E. Sir Nigel Cecil K.B.E., C.B., Lt.-Governor of the Isle of Man. He spoke of "dreams realised" and the start of a great new event which would occur bi-annually. He added that he had personally' visited all the competing Islands, which were the Aland Islands (Finland), Anglesey (Wales), Faroe Islands (Denmark), Froya (Norway), Gotland (Sweden), Guernsey, Hitra (Norway), Iceland, Isle of Man, Isle of Wight, Malta, Orkneys, Shetlands, St Helena and, of course, Jersey.

Jersey was involved in four sports: Football, Swimming, Badminton and Shooting and, though being one of the smallest teams, was eventually to gain 4th place in the medals table with 8 golds, 12 silvers and 2 bronze medals.

The swimming team were very successful and, on the Monday at the Douglas Aquadrome, were to win 14 more medals than any other Island team. David Filipponi won 4 golds, Alison Christie a gold in the breast-stroke, whilst silver and bronze went to Sanchia Crapper, Jeanine Taylor, Heidi Corbet and Alison Christie. These girls made up the relay team and, though much younger than their rivals, won two further silver medals. The Douglas Aquadrome was packed for the finals and, with the pool decorated by the surrounding flags of the 15 nations, it all created a marvellous atmosphere.

 

The shooting teams represented in a variety of events were also to figure in the medals. John Renouf and Derek Bernard won gold and silver in the team air pistol events, whilst at Automatic Ball trap, shooters Michael Sangan and Mo Gotel took the team silver.

The Badminton team were able to win 2 golds: Steve Watson partnered by Jean Lawson in the mixed doubles, and at men's doubles Ian Coombes Goodfellow partnered Steve Watson. Three silvers were added during the week by Andy Gallichan and Sally Adams, Ian Lawson and Andy Gallichan, and in the Badminton "team" event.

The footballers were to finish 7th in what turned out to be an extremely close under 16 competition. Jersey were 4 points adrift of winners Hitra (Norway), though they did have the satisfaction of beating Guernsey 3 0, with goals from Marcus Queree and Chris Hamon (2). This also resulted in Guernsey missing out on the bronze medal.

The Games came to a close on the Wednesday evening in spectacular fashion. Preceeding the closing ceremony, the half marathon finished inside the Palace Lido, a complex world famous for its massive ballroom and adjacent Casino. The Games finally ended with the extravagant laser lighting equipment writing out and telling all Islands that the Games would recommence in Guernsey in 1987.

Channel Television spent the week recording the progress of the two Channel Island teams and will produce a film version of the Games for the national network series "About Britain", later next year.

More Short Stories: The Changing Scenes

This short story is based on the hymn "Through All the Changing Scenes of Life", and is set in the 1960s, shortly after the publication of John A.T. Robinson's "Honest to God".

The Changing Scenes

Margaret Ellison had placed her husband’s prayer book back on the shelf, but her hand lingered on the spine as though it might still be warm. The house felt cavernous without Harold, every clock ticked too loudly, every floorboard creaked like a reminder. She sat at the dining table with the hymnbook open, the familiar words staring up at her: “Through all the changing scenes of life, in trouble and in joy…” She whispered them, though her voice faltered on joy.

The world outside was changing too. The newspapers were full of arguments about Bishop Robinson’s Honest to God. Margaret had read it in the evenings after Harold’s death, the pages trembling slightly in her hands. The first chapter, “Reluctant Revolution”, felt like a description of her own heart. She had not asked for a revolution in her faith, yet grief had thrust her into one.

She made tea, though she barely tasted it. The kettle’s whistle echoed through the empty kitchen. She sat again, pen poised above her journal.

“O magnify the Lord with me…” But how could she magnify anything when her world had shrunk to a single point of loss?

She turned to the next chapter of Robinson’s book, “The End of Theism?”, and felt a shiver. Harold would have hated the title. He had believed with the steady, uncomplicated trust of a man who never doubted the sun would rise. Margaret envied him now. She wondered whether her own faith had been merely borrowed from him, like a coat she had worn without noticing its weight. Images of God from childhood passed through her mind, the old man with a white beard in the sky, angels singing with harps in the clouds, and they seemed so insubstantial in a world in which mankind was heading in rockets to the moon.

The hymn’s next verse drifted through her mind: “The hosts of God encamp around the dwellings of the just.” She tried to picture angels standing guard around her little house, but all she saw was the empty chair by the hearth.

She opened the book again. “Chapter 3: The Ground of Our Being”. The phrase unsettled her. It felt abstract, slippery. But something in it tugged at her, an idea that God might not be “up there” but somehow beneath everything, even beneath her grief. Perhaps beneath Harold’s death too. But where should she find what Robinson called “The Ground of Being”? Nothing seemed solid now, not even the earth beneath her feet.

The next Sunday she went to church for the first time since the funeral. The vicar preached on “Chapter 4: The Man for Others”, speaking of Christ not as a distant figure but as one who walked into the world’s pain. Margaret felt her throat tighten. If Christ truly entered human suffering, then perhaps He had been beside Harold in those final hours. And perhaps he was beside her too. “Blessed are those who mourn” came to mind, and now it seemed to have new meaning. Christ was there in the midst of the mourners, the Jesus who wept at the death of his friend Lazarus. After the service, she lingered in the pew. The hymn returned to her: “O make but trial of His love…” She had always sung it confidently. Now it felt like a challenge.

At home she read “Chapter 5: Worldly Holiness”. The idea that holiness might be found in ordinary life, washing dishes, writing letters, tending a garden, felt strangely comforting. Perhaps she did not need to feel holy to be held by God. Perhaps Martha had the better part after all, and did not Mary Magdalene meet the risen Lord, tending a garden.

Then “Chapter 6: The New Morality”, the one everyone was arguing about. She found it less shocking than expected. It spoke of love as the guiding principle. Harold had lived that way without ever reading a bishop’s book. If there was not love at the heart of the universe, what was there to hope for? The substitutes for love, power, ambition, possessions so often got in the way, and judgement needed mercy, that balance of love.

Finally she reached “Chapter 7: Recasting the Mould”. She closed the book and looked around the quiet room. Perhaps that was what she was doing, recasting the mould of her faith, reshaping it around absence, around longing, around the stubborn hope that God had not abandoned her.

She opened the hymnbook once more. “Fear Him, ye saints, and ye will then have nothing else to fear.” She remembered the words in “A Grief Observed”, that grief can also be like fear, fear of facing life alone without loved ones. She recalled the disciples, mourning the death of their Lord, hidden away inside that upper room, fearful, and even fearful when he appeared before them once more. And yet beyond that fear came peace, renewal, and hope. 

For the first time since Harold’s death, she faintest stirring of peace, and recast, renewed, the old certainties had to die, as a seed in the ground, to bring forth new life, and the acceptance that the one still point in the turning world, amidst all the changing scenes of life, was God.

To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
The God Whom we adore,
Be glory, as it was, is now,
And shall be evermore. Amen.

Election Aftermath

I was pondering the election, and thinking of these words from Dr Who: "Things end. That's all. Everything ends, and it's always sad. But everything begins again too, and that's always happy.". That seems somehow to sum things up.

Election Aftermath

It always feels flat, somehow, a long night,
Counting away the hours until daylight;
Sleepless, watching the figures just appear:
There must be trepidation, worry, fear;
And so it grinds on, the results do come:
Everyone added on to Senatorial sum;
Trends emerge, as we get nearer dawn,
And at least some will come to mourn
The demise of a career, the loss of seat,
As they stare down at a bleak defeat;
For others, elation, jumping for joy,
And the youngest, almost still a boy;
And for all we rejoice or not, recall
That those who lost are people all
Cast out into the wilderness for now,
And have to move on to see how
They can make a new life, new hope,
And after disappointment, just cope;
It is always sad when something ends,
But a new beginning somehow mends;
And now the banners are taken down,
And to the victor comes the crown.

1986 - 40 years ago - June - Part 2

1986 - 40 years ago - June - Part 2

June 16-22

THE Public Works Committee announce that they are to give pedestrians priority in many more places and that they have located a number of sites where pedestrian crossings and speed limits could be established.

TV celebrity Anneka Rice visits the Island with a Channel 4 camera crew to film an edition of "Treasure Hunt".

Senator John Le Marquand, a dominant figure in Jersey politics since the Second World War, is made an Officer of the Order of the British Empire in the Queen's Birthday Honours list.

A motorcyclist,c20-year-old Trevor Beaugie, dies at the General Hospital after a late-night crash into a granite water outfall on the beach at Beaumont.

A poll conducted by the Jersey Evening Post reveals that many Islanders favour a helicopter rather than a minesweeper as a contribution to UK defence spending. Of those who take part in the poll, 4,113 favour a helicopter and only 83 favour a minesweeper.

A former Deputy Bailiff, Mr Francis de Lisle Bois, OBE, dies aged 77.

A labourer who was buried under granite blocks and debris when a 22-ft. wall fell on him in January sues his employees, John J. du Feu Ltd.

Customers of Ile Verte Travel are assured that they will not lose money after the business is declared en desastre.

A total of £7,000 is needed to repair and re-glaze stained glass windows at St Ouen's Church.

June 23-29

TWO men die near the States Farm in Trinity when the bicycle they are riding is struck by a car. The two dead men are named as Mr Shaun Smith (29), and Mr Brian Corps (38), both of whom were from the Newcastle area.

It is suggested that Jersey could make a defence contribution to the UK by supplying British forces with agricultural produce. Chairman of the Jersey Agricultural Marketing Federation Mr Roy Mourant says that part or even all the controversial contribution could be made in this way.

Two more safety officers are appointed at the Resources Recovery Board. The appointments are made against the background of a number of serious accidents involving RRB staff, including one which left an electrician unconscious after he received an electric shock at the board's Bellozanne plant.

An inquest into the death of Trevor Beaugie, the motorcyclist who died after his machine crashed into water outlet on the beach at Bel Royal, reveals that the dead man was in a race with a friend.

A young Glaswegian woman reserves her plea in the Police Court when she is charged with the manslaughter of her boyfriend, a heroin addict. Mary Jane Gourley (19), is alleged to have unlawfully killed Gordon Paul Stewart at some time on 4 or 5 June at Grove House, Grove Street.

Members of the Poingdestre Descendants Association from Virginia in the USA visit the Island and meet 35 members of local Poingdestre families at the Ommaroo Hotel.

The Fire Service rescue craft is unable to put to sea at Bonne Nuit because cars block the slipway. Happily, 16-year-old John Bisson is rescued from his overturned dinghy by a passing speedboat.

More Short Stories: Esther in Winchester

Esther in Winchester

Esther arrived in Winchester just during a heatwave, standing in the narrow confines of the train between the carriages. The train was packed with commuters heading onward to Southampton and the airport there, and it was hot, stuffy, and as temperatures began to soar outside, inside was a furnace of humid heat.

She had travelled down from London, her mind full of the images she had seen outside Parliament: banners calling for compassion in Gaza, photographs of families displaced, and the quiet, stubborn hope of people who refused to let suffering be ignored. But there was also lingering fear among the Jewish community, of being made scapegoats for what was happening thousands of miles away, in another place, another land.

She had come to Winchester for something gentler, to see the statue of Licoricia of Winchester. Yet as she walked toward Jewry Street, she felt the ancient and the modern folding into one another, as if history were whispering in layers, the old lies returning, the shadow of Shylock in the noonday sun.

The bronze figures appeared ahead: Licoricia striding forward, her son Asher beside her, the tax demand in her hand. The sign of the discriminatory royal taxation (tallage) that medieval English monarchs constantly imposed on the Jewish community. In sharp contrast, the inscription beneath them read: “Love thy neighbour as thyself.”

Esther paused. Her own name carried a story, of a queen who had lived in a palace of power yet felt the vulnerability of her people in her bones. She remembered the moment in the Book of Esther when Mordecai tells her that silence is not safety, that she had come to her position “for such a time as this”, to speak out for her people. That line had always unsettled her. It was not a comfort; it was a summons.

A line from a hymn rose in her mind: “I was hungry and thirsty, were you there, were you there…” The words felt heavier now, as if addressed not only to her but to every passer‑by, every government, every age. A new summons, against hate, against ignorance, against fear.

She looked again at Licoricia, a Jewish woman finding her place in a world that welcomed her community for its usefulness and resented it for the same reason. A woman who, like Queen Esther, lived under the shadow of royal favour that could turn cold without warning. A woman who used what influence she had to build, to support, to endure.

Esther imagined Licoricia teaching Asher the stories of their people , perhaps even the story of Queen Esther herself, who approached a king with trembling courage and said, in essence: See us. Hear us. Do not turn away. She thought of Licoria holding her sons hand, protecting him against am often heartless world.

The parallel struck her sharply. The protest she had seen that morning was another version of that plea , a collective stepping forward, a refusal to let suffering remain invisible.

Another line from the hymn surfaced: “And the creed and the colour and the name won’t matter…”

Yet they did matter, she thought. They mattered far too often. That was why the Book of Esther still spoke across millennia, because it understood how fragile safety could be, how easily a people could be scapegoated, how necessary it was for someone, anyone, to speak. And that was why Sydney Carter had written those words, an advocate for disregarding differences in race or creed, aligning closely with the command to love thy neighbour.

Standing before the statue, Esther felt the stories intertwine: Licoricia’s resilience, Queen Esther’s courage, the cries from London’s streets. All of them asking the same question: Will you be there? Will you speak? Will you see?

She stepped back, taking in the bronze figures one last time. Virtues carved in metal were not relics; they were instructions, a call to the silent people who had not yet spoken, that that never have spoken yet. As she walked away, the refrain followed her like a quiet summons:

“Were you there, were you there.”