Endings

This is a poem about dementia, about my mother, about the curse which removes the persona and leaves just an emptiness. There is still a glimmer of smiles sometimes, some happy moments, but this is trully a grim and terrible way to die.

And yet, as the Methodist Minister Christopher Collins said, I think this true: "When I looked at my own mother, did I see a person whom I still affirmed through my relationship or did I see a non-person? Surely my answer must be that I see a person, because I am still in relationship with her, and nothing can diminish that."

Postmodernity has not shifted the assumption that life was meant to be perfect and thus the biggest problem for religious belief remains the issue of arbitrary suffering. Theological speculation about dementia has been surprisingly sparse. 

For the most part, these people remain in care homes, forgotten by the clergy and congregation who have such busy lives, and if that seems unduly harsh, I am sorry. Collins I think is wholly right when he says: "the church must move beyond the idea that ‘success’ in our relationships is measured by certain signs of recognition and participation."

This is a poem which ends on a very bleak moment. But that is not an ending. It is a challenge.

Endings

When I look into your eyes, tired, sad,
I see all the emptiness, time so bad,
Taking away a sharp clarity of mind,
Leaving just shards. It is so unkind
That all you were just fades away,
As the dusk creeps in after day;
The light fading, the sunset falls,
So that you cannot hear our calls;
Smiling sometimes, but so lost,
This a price sometimes, the cost
Of memory as a mirror fragment:
The broken glass, as you just went,
Away leaving only a pale shadow,
Of who you were, a fading glow,
A shuttering candle in the night,
As you softly vanish from our sight;
And so I ask myself, as time goes by,
And I am honest, and cannot lie,
When I look into your eyes, tired,
Do I see a future, of myself retired?
Reflected in that often vacant face,
Losing all dignity, hope, and grace;
Yet this is for many of us, our fate,
Come the night, come dreaded date,
The limelight, before a curtain call,
The self, diminished, made small,
And just losing the ability to cope:
Into a dark wood, abandon hope;
As we make a journey into death,
Oh cruel world, our final breath.

A Look back at 1985: Nelson's Eye

A seafront restaurant, now closed.

From the Islander, September 1985

Nelson's Eye
Havre des Pas
St Helier

The St Helier end of the East Coast has never been renowned as being a "must" for eating out, but I am happy to say that the new Nelson's Eye has changed all that and put Havre des Pas on the gourmet map.

After various changes of name and ownership, the restaurant was bought by Dutchman Arie Stammes and his wife Sue in May, 1984, and this charming, attractive couple have worked miracles in the short space of twelve months — revamping the kitchen, installing a charcoal grill, etc., and providing an excellent, imaginative menu, plus an attractive wine list.

The wonderfully varied a la carte menu majors in sea food and steaks — there is a fantastic fish soup (really a bouillabaise), a live lobster tank with fresh sea water, and all the steaks are marinated in herbs and oil.

The restaurant itself is quite unique — completely timbered, fes-tooned with ships' lanterns, port and starboard lights and marine accessories, with seating set in booths in polished wood and deep green velvet. The whole atmosphere is "ever so nautical" and from the windows one gazes out to sea across the Three Sisters rocks and the sweep of the bay — when the tide is in there is a distinct feeling actually of being at sea without the dread of being affected by a rough passage! There is also a very authentic ship's bar and tiny disco floor for dancing.

For my meal I chose Gambas Piri Piri as a starter — a South African dish comprising enormous gambas, piping hot in a very spicy sauce, and if, like me, you are partial to anything spicy, I can assure you that you haven't lived until you have tried the Piri Piri sauce! (You can also have a sirloin steak cooked the same way.)

For the main course I decided on the lobster thermidor (one of the specialites de la Maison), which more than lived up to its reputation. With it I drank one of the proprietor's favourites Macon Vire, a light, extremely pleasant white wine from the Chateau de Vire. The whole meal was perfect in every way and chef John Hadley and second chef Michael Le Borne are to be con-gratulated on the extremely high standard.

The restaurant is very convenient for town with lots of parking space in the vicinity — open all year round (excepting mid-January to mid-February) for lunch and dinner (except Tuesdays) with a special Sunday lunch at £5.95 including service charge. They can also cater for (and welcome) private parties for up to 100 people.

So there you have it — yet another extremely good restaurant, with an ambiance all of its own, to add to your list of favourite "eating out" spots.

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Visions of Hell

Visions of Hell

JV [A.A. Milne’s father] believed in a God of love. At one of the schools where he taught early on in his career, the headmaster one Sunday preached a fire-and-brimstone sermon to the boys, warning them that they were destined for an eternity in Hell unless they pulled up their socks and concentrated in class. JV was given permission to preach to the boys the following Sunday and told them there was no such place as Hell and no such thing as Everlasting Fire, but encouraged them to work all the same because work was worthwhile and working hard now meant you wouldn’t have to work so hard later. After delivering his sermon, he offered the headmaster his resignation, but the headmaster wouldn’t have it. JV was too good a teacher to lose. (Giles Brandeth)

“What I am going to say is not a dogma of faith but my own personal view: I like to think of hell as empty; I hope it is,” Pope Francis

It is interesting to survey different approaches to the theology of hell.

 

The older hell fire and brimstone is still around, but more muted and nuances. Back in the 1960s (as a friend told me from experience), some Roman Catholic schools used to terrify young pupils with visions of hell if they were caught in wrongdoing. 

So here is a map of different theologians views on visions of hell.

I would comment that I think the Western view is totally wrong! And yet it is so influential in  paintings, in Dante's Inferno, and in the "Hell Fire" preaching which even permeates some strands of Protestantism. 

Traditional Western View: Eternal Conscious Torment

Whenever I was being raised, Hell was often taught. Hellfire and Brimstone sermons, they used to call them. I used to get scared out of my.......sin.....because I didn’t want to go to hell! I have told you before that I used to pray that we could be in a car crash on the way home after a really good altar call so I could be sure I would get to Heaven. (Robert Cox)

Historically dominant in Western Christianity, this view holds that Hell is a place of eternal, conscious punishment for the unredeemed. Rooted in texts like Matthew 25:46 (“eternal punishment”) and Revelation 14:11 (“the smoke of their torment goes up forever”), it emphasizes divine justice and retribution. 

Augustine and Aquinas shaped this doctrine, stressing the irrevocability of judgment and the moral seriousness of sin. This view is largely absent in Eastern Orthodoxy, which leans toward therapeutic and mystical interpretations of postmortem judgment.

The classic Western tradition-shaped by Augustine, Aquinas, and later Protestant scholastics-takes the “fiery” texts at near‑face value. Passages like Revelation 20:14–15 (“lake of fire”), Matthew 25:41 (“eternal fire prepared for the devil”), and Matthew 8:12 (“outer darkness… wailing and gnashing of teeth”) are read as descriptions of objective, external, divinely imposed punishment. 

Fire is not merely metaphorical but signifies real torment; “cast out” indicates irreversible exclusion; “gnashing of teeth” expresses conscious anguish. This view fits squarely within the Western legal‑forensic imagination: Hell is the just penalty for sin, enacted by God in response to moral rebellion.

The classic Western doctrine-Augustine, Aquinas, the Reformers-stands alone as the full penal model. Here, Hell is God’s active punishment of sin. The fiery imagery (Revelation 20, Matthew 25, Mark 9) is taken as describing a divinely imposed penalty proportionate to moral rebellion. “Wailing and gnashing of teeth” is the anguish of receiving just retribution; “cast out” is God’s judicial exclusion; the “lake of fire” is the arena of divine wrath. 

This is the only view in your set that treats Hell as a sentence rather than a state, and the only one that sees the fire as God’s direct act of justice rather than the soul’s experience of God or the consequences of its own choices.

Glen Scrivener: Christocentric Reframing

Scrivener, an evangelist and Anglican minister, reframes Hell through a relational and Christ-centered lens. He emphasizes that Hell is not merely a place but a trajectory-“the outer darkness” of rejecting God’s love. Drawing on Romans 1 and John 3:19–20, Scrivener sees Hell as the culmination of human autonomy, where people “choose” separation from God. He resists speculative geography and instead focuses on the relational rupture. His approach resonates with Eastern emphases on freedom and love, though his evangelical roots keep him tethered to Western soteriology.

Scrivener affirms the biblical imagery but reframes it relationally. He takes seriously texts like Romans 1 (God “giving them over”), John 3:19–20 (people “loving darkness”), and Jesus’ warnings about “outer darkness” and “wailing and gnashing of teeth.” For him, these images describe the end‑point of a chosen trajectory: fire is the consuming consequence of rejecting divine love; “cast out” is the natural result of refusing communion; “gnashing of teeth” is the bitterness of entrenched self‑will. He does not deny divine judgment, but he interprets the fiery imagery through the lens of human autonomy and Christ’s relational invitation. This places him between traditions: Western in seriousness about judgment, Eastern in seeing Hell as the soul’s posture toward God.

Scrivener takes the warnings seriously and retains the gravity of divine judgement, but he reframes the mechanism. He does not present Hell as God inflicting pain; instead, he emphasises God “giving people over” (Romans 1). The fiery imagery is real, but it describes the relational consequences of rejecting Christ. Scrivener is still more Western than Eastern in tone-he keeps the seriousness of judgement and the finality of exclusion-but he avoids the idea of God actively tormenting. He is the closest of the modern thinkers to the penal model, but still significantly softened.

Tom Wright (N.T. Wright): Eschatological Renewal

“Just as many who were brought up to think of God as a bearded old gentleman sitting on a cloud decided that when they stopped believing in such a being they had therefore stopped believing in God, so many who were taught to think of hell as a literal underground location full of worms and fire…decided that when they stopped believing in that, so they stopped believing in hell. The first group decided that because they couldn’t believe in childish images of God, they must be atheists. The second decided that because they couldn’t believe in childish images of hell, they must be universalists.” (N.T. Wright)

Wright critiques the caricature of Hell as a cosmic torture chamber. He emphasizes the biblical narrative of new creation, arguing that Hell represents exclusion from God’s renewed world. Drawing on passages like Revelation 21–22 and Romans 8, Wright sees judgment as restorative and covenantal. He rejects universalism but also resists eternal torment, suggesting that those who persistently reject God may “cease to exist” (annihilationism). His view blends Western biblical scholarship with Eastern themes of cosmic renewal and divine mercy

Wright reads the fiery texts within the biblical story of new creation. Revelation’s “lake of fire” becomes the symbolic end of all anti‑creation forces; “wailing and gnashing of teeth” marks the tragic collapse of human identity when it refuses God’s kingdom. He draws on passages like Matthew 10:28 (“destroy both soul and body in Gehenna”) and Romans 8 (creation’s renewal) to argue that Hell is the destiny of those who persistently refuse the life of the age to come. Fire is not torture but un‑making. Wright comes closest to annihilationism: the imagery of burning signifies the final dissolution of what refuses God. This aligns partly with Eastern cosmic themes but remains Western in its historical‑critical method.

Wright rejects the penal model outright. For him, Hell is what happens when a human being becomes less and less truly human. The fiery imagery is symbolic of un‑making-the dissolution of identity when it refuses God’s new creation. Matthew 10:28 (“destroy both soul and body in Gehenna”) is central: destruction, not torture. Wright’s God does not punish; God renews creation, and those who refuse that renewal simply cannot participate. This is not penal but ontological. Fire is the collapse of what cannot survive the age to come.

C.S. Lewis: Psychological and Volitional Hell

“There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, "Thy will be done," and those to whom God says, in the end, "Thy will be done." All that are in Hell, choose it. Without that self-choice there could be no Hell. No soul that seriously and constantly desires joy will ever miss it. Those who seek find. Those who knock it is opened.”  C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce

Lewis, especially in The Great Divorce and The Problem of Pain, portrays Hell as self-imposed exile. He argues from texts like Luke 16 (the rich man and Lazarus) and Romans 1 that Hell is the natural outcome of a soul turned inward. “The doors of Hell are locked from the inside,” he famously wrote. 

Lewis’s Hell is less about divine punishment and more about the soul’s refusal to be healed. This aligns with Eastern Orthodox views of Hell as a state of being rather than a place, though Lewis remains within Western metaphysical frameworks.

Lewis treats the fiery imagery as profoundly true but not literal. In The Great Divorce and The Problem of Pain, he interprets “fire” as the burning exposure of reality; “outer darkness” as the shrinking of the soul; “gnashing of teeth” as the self‑torment of pride. He draws on Luke 16 (the rich man’s torment), Romans 1, and Jesus’ parables to argue that Hell is the soul’s refusal to be healed. 

Fire is the pain of resisting joy; being “cast out” is self‑exile; “gnashing of teeth” is the clenched jaw of refusal. Lewis is Western in imagination but deeply Eastern in seeing Hell as the soul’s experience of God’s love when it rejects transformation.

John V. Taylor: Missional and Relational Judgment

Taylor, in The Go-Between God and other writings, rarely systematizes Hell but critiques Western dualisms. He emphasizes the Spirit’s presence in all human experience and sees judgment as the unveiling of truth. 

Taylor rarely systematizes Hell, but when he touches on judgment, he reads the fiery texts through the lens of the Spirit’s work of unveiling. Drawing on John 16:8–11 (the Spirit “convicts the world”) and 2 Corinthians 3–5 (the unveiling of truth), he sees fire as the purifying, exposing presence of God. “Cast out” becomes the experience of resisting communion; “wailing and gnashing of teeth” the agony of truth resisted. 

Taylor’s approach is the least punitive: fire is illumination, not retribution. This aligns strongly with Eastern patristic thought-especially St. Isaac the Syrian-where divine fire is the same love experienced differently by the receptive and the resistant.

Taylor is the least penal of all. For him, judgement is the Spirit’s unveiling of truth. Fire is illumination; “cast out” is the experience of resisting communion; “gnashing of teeth” is the agony of truth confronted. There is no sense of God inflicting pain. Taylor’s view is deeply Eastern: Hell is the soul’s experience of divine love when it refuses transformation.

Eastern Orthodox View: Hell as Divine Encounter

St. Isaac the Syrian: “I say that those who are tormented in hell are tormented by the scourge of love. ... It is utterly senseless to believe that the tormentors in hell are greater than the love of Christ” (Ascetical Homilies).

Love will enrobe everything with its sacred Fire which will flow like a river from the throne of God and will irrigate paradise. But this same river of Love — for those who have hate in their hearts — will suffocate and burn. (Alexandre Kalomiros )

In Eastern Orthodoxy, Hell is not primarily a place of external punishment but a state of being in relation to God’s unmediated presence. Drawing from passages like 1 Corinthians 3:13–15 and Hebrews 12:29 (“our God is a consuming fire”), Eastern theologians argue that the same divine light that brings joy to the righteous causes torment to those who reject love. 

Hell is thus the experience of God’s love by those who refuse it-a painful exposure rather than imposed suffering. This view is deeply rooted in patristic sources like St. Isaac the Syrian and St. Gregory of Nyssa, who emphasize healing, purification, and the mystery of divine mercy.

The Eastern tradition rejects the penal model entirely. The Eastern tradition reads the fiery texts through the lens of divine presence rather than divine punishment. Passages like Hebrews 12:29 (“our God is a consuming fire”) and 1 Corinthians 3:13–15 (works tested by fire) are central. 

Fire is God’s unmediated love; the righteous experience it as warmth and light, the resistant as burning. “Cast out” refers to the soul’s inability to bear the divine presence; “gnashing of teeth” is the pain of unhealed passions exposed by truth. Revelation’s “lake of fire” is the final unveiling of God’s glory, not a torture chamber. This view is mystical, therapeutic, and relational-far from the Western penal model.

A Short Story: The Cornerstone

Adapted from my poem based on Deut 4:1

The Cornerstone

The fog that morning was so thick it seemed to press its face against the windows of the Old Bailey, peering in like a curious but unwelcome guest. Inside, the corridors bustled with clerks, barristers, and the faint scent of damp wool. Court No. 7, a chamber of dark wood and darker expectations, was preparing to hear the case of Mr. Bartholomew Cratch, a labourer accused of striking his overseer.

Mr. Cratch sat hunched at the defence table, his cap twisting between his hands. He was a man worn down by life’s long winter, thin, pale, and carrying the look of someone who had never once been given the benefit of the doubt.

His advocate, Miss Eleanor Wick, stood beside him. Though young, she possessed a seriousness that made even seasoned barristers pause. She had been raised in the poorer quarters of London, where she had learned early in an old poem that “justice and mercy form the cornerstone” of any society that hoped to call itself civilised. And she had learned, too, that “a faith in which we may not be alone” was often the only thing that kept the vulnerable from being swallowed by the city’s indifference.

The judge entered, robes sweeping like a shadow across the room. Proceedings began.

The prosecution painted Mr. Cratch as a brute, a man of violent temper. Their witness, a foreman with a polished waistcoat and a polished story, claimed Cratch had struck him in a fit of rage. The gallery murmured. The evidence, though thin, was presented with the confidence of a man accustomed to being believed.

Miss Wick watched carefully. Something in the foreman’s account rang false. His description of the alley, the timing, the lantern light, all felt rehearsed, as though he had practised it before a mirror.

When her turn came, she rose. Her voice was calm, but carried the quiet authority of someone who had seen too much suffering to be easily intimidated.

“My Lord,” she began, “the law is not merely a mechanism for punishment. It is a guide to how we ought to live. And if we are to live rightly, ‘we must be our brother’s keeper.’ We must look after the weak, the downtrodden, and those who have no voice but ours.”

A ripple passed through the courtroom.

She produced a small notebook - her own. Inside were sketches of the alley where the incident had occurred. She had visited it at dawn, when the city was still half‑asleep and honest shadows still fell where they ought.

“The foreman claims he was struck beneath the lamplight,” she said, “yet the lamp nearest the scene has been broken for weeks. The cobbles slope sharply, and the ground was slick with frost. My Lord, the foreman slipped. And Mr. Cratch, far from striking him, attempted to catch him.”

The judge leaned forward. The prosecution faltered. The gallery shifted uneasily.

After a long deliberation, the judge dismissed the charge.

Mr. Cratch let out a breath that sounded like the first warm wind of spring. Tears gathered in his eyes.

“Miss Wick,” he whispered, “I thought no one would believe me.”

She placed a gentle hand on his arm.

“You are not alone,” she said. “Not while the law still remembers its purpose.”

Outside, the fog had begun to lift. The bells of St. Paul’s tolled the hour, and London, grimy, sprawling, and full of contradictions, seemed for a moment to breathe a little easier.

Miss Wick stepped into the street, her gown brushing the cobblestones, and felt the quiet satisfaction that comes when mercy has been allowed to stand beside justice, as it always should.

The Sunday Archive: The Pilot, July 1997 - Part 1

The Sunday Archive: The Pilot, July 1997 - Part 1
(Note the above photo and text has been taken from a photocopy, not the original which is still in the Library!)

Island Notes
By Barry Giles

We are looking forward to the Reverend John Seaford, and his wife, Helen, coming among us, and we shall all bear them in our constant and continuing prayers.

We are a "Peculiar" in the ecclesiastical sense of that title, but we are also peculiar in the sense that our customs and traditions are often unique; in church and state within the Bailiwick and within the Deanery. It is good for us that a new Dean brings a wider vision and experience of the Church to the Church in Jersey. 

One could use such metaphors as "a new broom," though these have their limitations. However, it is true that we all build upon the work of those who go before us. No two priests take the same service in the same way, no successive rectors or vicars operate in the same way; each Dean brings to his office and ministry the gifts which he has. 

Canon Seaford, you will know, has been a parish priest throughout his ministry. Those gifts and insights into the work of the people and family of God will be required as we move forward in our Deanery to an era of rethinking the way in which all our parishes and districts are to be served and manned, as our pastoral reorganisation plans materialise over the coming years. 

But, no Dean works alone. As we support him, now by prayer, so, I trust, we shall work together resolutely for the right disposition of the Church of Jersey within the mission of the Church of God in this place. The psalmist, like much of the prophecy in the Old Testament, was looking for answers to come "from the north." One lesson we must learn is that answers come when we work together, and that the best of God's answers come when we work together with Him.

This month we have an opportunity to do something together. That is, to make pilgrimage. It was Dean Falle who began this annual act of active worship as an Anglican initiative; quite properly it is now an ecumenical one. But this year, perhaps Anglicans in Jersey could make an extra effort to come together to honour and remember St Helier, who brought the Christian Faith to Jersey, and acknowledge our debt to him, but also to deepen our faith and commitment to that same faith and practice in 1993 and to the future. 

No pilgrimage should be easy: it was not for Jesus; it should not be for us. So, make an effort — come, be a pilgrim on 11th July, either from the Town Church at 3.15 pm or at the least, from West Park Slipway half an hour later. My hope is that all our parishes and districts will be well represented as an indication of our determination to be a pilgrim people of God.

Yours in Christ BARRY GILES

John Seaford writes...

BY WAY of introduction, I first want to say how much Helen and I are looking forward to coming to Jersey when I take up this senior appointment in September.

Until invited over just after Easter, I had only been to Jersey once for a holiday. My parents and I stayed at the Hotel L'Horizon and, while there, we celebrated my tenth birthday — so that was a long time ago, but I have the photograph of the contestants in the Fancy Dress Parade to prove it! However, when we came over in April we were struck by the warmth of the welcome and generosity of the hospitality for which Jersey is renowned.

Immediately we felt we could make our home here although it means a separation from our families on the mainland.

Since being ordained, I came to Winchester Diocese 22 years ago, starting off as a Curate in one of the residential parishes on the outskirts of Winchester itself. All our moves have been in an almost straight line in a south¬westerly direction which, by coincidence, if extended points almost directly at the Channel Islands. While at Stanmore and Oliver's Battery I became involved in prison life, acting as a relief chaplain.

My first parish as Vicar was North Baddesley, between Southampton and Romsey. This was a development area with lots of young families in new housing, but based on a tiny mediaeval church. We also had a modern daughter church which we needed to enlarge. At this time the liturgical movement was introducing great changes in worship, and we discovered the advantages offered by the freedom of the new services. Also while there, pastoral reorganisation caused the parish to be united with Chilworth, where the people enjoyed traditional worship. 

In 1978 we moved to Highcliffe, which is well known to the Vicar of St Luke's as he used to live here prior to his ordination. This is a popular retirement area, but also a residential base for many people working on the south coast, and a home base for many who worked on the seas or overseas: Highcliffe (population approx. 12,000) is united with the hamlet of Hinton Admiral, an agricultural parish. Again there are two churches; and again it became necessary to enlarge and enhance one of them to accommodate the increasing congregation and to enable a wider range of activities to take place. This was a major undertaking which the parishioners did to celebrate the 150th anniversary of the building of a church when the Victorians were discovering the pleasures of the south coast.

Thirteen years ago I became closely involved in the Diocesan Advisory Committee for the Care of Churches, acting as its secretary for a number of years. This committee is involved when any of the mainland churches wants to carry out repairs, or make alterations, or provide any permanent fixtures. I have also served as one of the Bishop's Examining Chaplains who interview potential ordinands. So I have been very concerned for Church growth, both where the church is the congregation and where the church is the building, and also in that limited area where it is the ordained ministry, as when someone says "I am going into the church."

More recently I was appointed Rural Dean of Christchurch and finally an Honorary Canon of Winchester Cathedral. But most of all I am a parish priest who enjoys pastoral work, caring for my parishioners, whether or not they are part of the congregation. In this I enjoy the wholehearted support and help of Helen who works hard, but as someone wrote in a letter only today, "so quietly and unostentatiously" at knowing and loving the people. I have also enjoyed working with colleagues, both with Curates in our own church and also with ecumenical brethren in the wider community.

I am really looking forward to taking up this appointment in the Diocese for, although it is a very different form of ministry with a lot of responsibility, it is grounded in the ordinary pastoral and liturgical duties that every priest enjoys. It will be good to be Rector of St Helier and have a church and congregation to care for and worship with. It will also be good to be so closely involved with the whole community, both in the Parish and in the Island. It will be a privilege to attend the States and to have the opportunity to speak.

Of course, after nearly fifteen years, Helen and I will be sad to leave Highcliffe and Hinton Admiral, and the Rural Deanery of Christchurch, where we have made many friends; but we are thrilled at the thought of going to such an exciting and exacting post in a very pleasant place.

John Seaford

Nellie the Elephant Takes a Break

The elephant slide from St Brelade's Elephant Park is off for refurbishment, as captured in this photo from Facebook. Here's a poem about it, with allusions to other elephant related material! I like to write lighter poems sometimes!

Nellie the Elephant Takes a Break

Nellie the Elephant packed her trunk,
And said goodbye to the Elephant park;
Off she went with a trumpety trump,
Leaving the children down in the dump;
Where their pink elephant once sat,
Was just an empty wooden slat;
The children cry, where is she? they say:
Meanwhile along the Weighbridge way,
Drinkers saw a large Pink Elephant whizzing by;
Did I drink too much? Can an Elephant fly?
Nellie was on a trailer, off to a nice spa,
To be spruced up, she had to travel far;
But she didn’t trundle off to the jungle,
Unless her lorry driver made a bungle,
And if so, what a Dumbo he would be,
He’d say, “oh dear, oh dear oh me”;
But she’ll be back, and before September:
That, like the elephant, you can remember;
And the Technicolor Pachyderm once again
Will grace the play park, and there reign;
Just the thing for children come to play:
On such a nice warm sunny Summer’s day;
Children slide down, you sip your lemonade:
As you see the Pink Elephant on Parade!

1986 - 40 years ago - March - Part 2

1986 - 40 years ago - March - Part 2

March 17-23

DISCLOSURES about profits made by local oil companies lead the president of the Jersey Farmers Union to ask Agriculture and Fisheries president Senator Pierre Horsfall to take the matter up in the States and head an inquiry into the issue.

A 19-year-old unemployed Jerseyman, Steve Shane Mesney, pleads guilty in the Police Court to grave and criminal assault. The Court hears that 27-year-old Alan McCormick required 50 stitches after being found lying bleeding in Chapel Lane after an attack by Mesney.

Jersey historian Mrs Joan Stevens dies aged 75.

The States pass the controversial Queen's Valley Reservoir Law after thrashing out the amendments but opponents of the flooding plans say that they have not given up the fig ht.

Mrs Helen Baker, a founder of the Save Our Valleys group, says that the anti-flooders may petition the Queen.

Automaten Gaudin, the Five Oaks catering and refrigeration equipment company, closes with the loss of 11 jobs and is declared en desastre in the Royal Court.

The former offices of the Jersey New Waterworks Company in Mulcaster Street are bought by the Banco de Bilbao for £1 million.

The Police Court hears that doctors have no legal right to special parking places when a practitioner, Dr James Hugh, appears to answer more than 30 parking charges.

The 100-year-old iron railings at the central Market are to be surveyed by a specialist structural engineer after it is discovered they are rusting badly.

March 24-30

THE Island celebrates the 100th anniversary of the birth of its greatest artist of modern times, Edmund Blampied. Tributes are paid to the way in which he so faithfully recorded the essential nature of Jersey and its inhabitants.

The arrest of a further 13 people on suspicion of drunken driving brings the total of arrests for the offence to 104 for the first three months of 1986.

Figures published by the Social Security Committee show that the 'flu epidemic of February and March broke all records. Between 17 February and 14 March, 5,896 medical certificates were issued.

Mr Robin Seymour, chairman of the Island's largest hotel group, warns that Jersey stands to lose its tourism market if hotels up-grade and increase their prices too rapidly.

Finance and economics Committee president Senator Reg Jeune says he is horrified by a suggestion from the Civil Aviation Authority that Jersey could lose its Heathrow connection.

The Jersey Gas Company's annual report for 1985 is published and reveals that there are plans for a move from the existing Bath Street building to Tunnel Street. The report also reveals a profit after tax in 1985 of over £172 million.

Speaking at an Institute of Bankers dinner, the principal of Highlands College, Mr Wally Clarke, attacks the poor training record of the local finance industry.

 

Elizabeth Castle opens its gates to the public for the first time since a £120,000 facelift designed to make the fortification more easily understood by visitors.

ITV reporting on the Trans Debate in Jersey Schools

The recent report by ITV was (I thought) very biased. Teachers are prohibited from (a) telling parents and (b) using biological gender pronouns in cases of children declaring themselves as "Trans". But what if other children tell their parents and it gets back to the child's parents? The concept of secrecy is "porous" at best, and presumably at parent / teacher review meetings the teachers then revert to using biological gender pronouns for the child, which must make the risk of slip-ups considerable. They must also take care in school end of term reports.

Emotional Framing and Operational Contradictions

I think this presented the issue in a way that downplayed the practical and safeguarding tensions within the current Trans Inclusion Schools Guidance. This is because the report focused on emotional framing rather than the operational contradictions teachers face.

The guidance requires teachers not to inform parents if a child declares a different gender identity at school unless the child explicitly consents. At the same time, teachers must use the child’s chosen name and pronouns in school settings, even though biological sex remains relevant for safeguarding, sports, facilities, and internal data systems!

"Staff should not disclose information concerning a child’s trans* status to others, including parents, carers and other members of the school community unless legally required to do so or because the child has asked the school to do so. A child’s trans* status must not be discussed by staff outside of school with friends etc and the confidentiality of the child should be foremost in their minds." 
https://www.gov.je/SiteCollectionDocuments/Education/Transgender%20Guidance%20for%20Jersey%20Schools.pdf

This creates a dual‑track system: one linguistic and administrative reality for safeguarding, and another for social interaction. Teachers must constantly switch between these two registers depending on who they are speaking to, which is inherently error‑prone.

The idea that this can be kept confidential is “porous.” Schools are socially transparent environments. Children talk to each other, and they talk to their parents. Parents talk to other parents. Information flows sideways through the community in ways no policy can control.

Even if teachers follow the guidance perfectly, other children may mention the situation at home, and the information may reach the child’s parents indirectly. This means the policy’s assumption of controlled secrecy is unrealistic in practice.

Parent–teacher meetings introduce another layer of risk. Teachers are expected to revert to biological pronouns when speaking to parents who are not aware of the child’s school identity. Switching pronoun sets depending on the audience is cognitively demanding, especially in a busy meeting where teachers are discussing multiple pupils.

End‑of‑term reports create similar problems. Reports for parents must use the child’s real name and biological pronouns for the child, but internally teachers must refer to the child in their chosen name and  sex. Teachers must therefore maintain two parallel linguistic systems in writing as well as speech, increasing the likelihood of accidental disclosure.

Safeguarding law adds further tension. Biological sex remains the legally relevant category for risk assessment, supervision, and certain activities. Teachers must therefore treat the child as one sex for safeguarding purposes while treating them as another for social purposes. This contradiction is extremely difficult to manage consistently.

School Trips

The ITV report highlighted a complaint from a trans‑identified child who felt distressed at being required to share accommodation with their biological sex on school trips. That emotional experience is real for the child, but ITV presented it as though the only relevant factor was the child’s discomfort, without acknowledging the wider safeguarding framework that schools must operate within.

"Staff should plan how best to meet the needs of trans* children on a residential trip. A trans* child should be able to sleep in a room appropriate to their gender identity. If a trans* child is uncomfortable with this, alternative arrangements must be provided." 

https://www.gov.je/SiteCollectionDocuments/Education/Transgender%20Guidance%20for%20Jersey%20Schools.pdf

Safeguarding, however, applies to all children on the trip, not just the one who is unhappy with the arrangement. Schools have legal duties around privacy, dignity, supervision, and risk management that cannot be suspended for a single case. These duties are based on biological sex because safeguarding is built around physical risk categories, not identity categories.

If a child is biologically male, then regardless of their gender identity, they have the anatomy, physical development, and strength profile of a male. This matters for safeguarding because it shapes the risk environment for other children, particularly in intimate settings like shared bedrooms, bathrooms, and changing areas.

Moving a biologically male child into girls’ accommodation introduces safeguarding risks for the girls. These risks do not depend on the child’s intentions or personality. They arise from the structural reality that girls cannot consent to sharing private overnight spaces with a male peer, and their parents would not expect it.

Even if the child is entirely harmless, safeguarding is not about judging individual character. It is about preventing situations that could lead to discomfort, allegations, breaches of privacy, or harm. Schools must therefore consider the rights and safety of every child, not only the one who identifies differently.

ITV’s framing presented the school’s decision as discriminatory or insensitive, but it omitted the legal and safeguarding logic behind sex‑based accommodation. It also did not acknowledge that many jurisdictions require overnight arrangements to be based on biological sex precisely because identity cannot override safeguarding obligations.

This omission makes the issue appear simpler than it is. Overnight trips expose the fundamental contradiction in the current guidance: schools are told to treat the child socially as their chosen gender, but they must apply safeguarding rules based on biological sex. In day‑to‑day classroom life, this tension can be masked. On residential trips, it becomes unavoidable.

A policy built on secrecy and identity‑based categories cannot function in settings where biological sex is operationally relevant. Accommodation, supervision, and parental expectations all depend on sex, not pronouns. ITV’s report did not explore this, which is why the coverage felt incomplete.

Conclusions

ITV’s coverage did not foreground these structural contradictions or the scale of public concern. It also did not reflect the growing political pressure to revise or replace the guidance, including petitions, propositions in the States, and concerns raised by safeguarding groups.

The deeper issue is that the policy is built on incompatible assumptions: that secrecy can be maintained in a school environment, that teachers can flawlessly code‑switch between pronoun systems, and that safeguarding can be separated from parental knowledge. These assumptions simply do not hold in real life.

Reviewing Claus Westermann's Creation

Claus Westermann “Creation”

This had a profound effect on my thinking when I read it in the 1980s.

A bit of background story.   Claus Westermann (7 October 1909 – 11 June 2000) was a German Protestant Old Testament scholar. He taught at the University of Heidelberg from 1958 to 1978. Westermann is considered one of the premier Old Testament scholars of the twentieth century. 

Westermann’s observation that God never interrogates the serpent is one of the most important, and easily overlooked, features of Genesis 3. It shapes his entire understanding of how the text treats evil, responsibility, and the limits of human knowledge:

The serpent’s silence before God

In Genesis 3, God questions:
Adam: “Where are you?”
Eve: “What is this you have done?”

But God never asks the serpent anything. There is no “Why did you do this?” or “What is your purpose?” The serpent receives only a sentence, not a dialogue. 

For Westermann, this is not an accident. It is a literary and theological signal: the serpent’s origin, motive, and inner nature are deliberately withheld. Evil as a mystery, not an explained mechanism.

Westermann argues that Genesis 3 refuses to give an origin story for evil. The serpent simply appears - a creature within creation, cunning, speaking, but unexplained. This is consistent with the Hebrew Bible’s general approach:

· Evil is real.
· Evil is not metaphysically grounded.
· Evil’s origin is not revealed.

This is why Westermann insists that Genesis 3 is not a myth of cosmic rebellion or a metaphysical Fall. It is a story of human disobedience within a world where the possibility of temptation already exists, but whose deeper source remains beyond human grasp.

Westermann stresses that the serpent is introduced as:

“one of the animals the LORD God had made”

So cunning, but still a creature, neither divine nor demonic in the later Christian sense. By refusing to question the serpent, the text avoids turning it into a cosmic antagonist. It remains a creature, not a metaphysical enemy. This keeps Genesis 3 firmly within the worldview of the Hebrew Bible, not later dualistic or mythic systems.

The move to read the devil back into the serpent is a later development in Jewish and Christian interpretation, not something present in Genesis itself. The ancient text gives no hint that the serpent is anything other than a creature “that the LORD God had made.”. I have always thought that narrative re-interpretation comes dangerously close to a dualistic outlook.

Westermann famously argues that "the narrative of Genesis 2–3 does not speak of a fall" in the traditional dogmatic sense. Instead, he views it as a "primeval event" that describes the ongoing reality of being human.

He asserts that the word "fall" is inaccurate and deceptive because the text does not describe a move from a "perfect" state to a "ruined" one, but rather the introduction of disobedience and limits.
Alienation, Not Separation: He interprets the expulsion from Eden as alienation from God, not a definitive separation. He emphasizes that God continues to care for and give meaning to human life outside the garden.

(a) Agreement with Jewish Thought

Westermann’s work often mirrors the Jewish perspective that humans were created with two inclinations: the Yetzer HaTov (good) and Yetzer HaRa (evil/selfish). Like Jewish scholars, Westermann argues that humans remain God’s creatures after the garden. There is no "stain" passed down; instead, there is an ongoing choice between obedience and rebellion.

He agrees with the Rabbinic view that Genesis 3 explains why life is difficult (toil, pain, mortality) rather than why humans are inherently "evil."

Focus on the Narrative: Both prioritize the literal text over later systematic dogmas like the "Fall of Man."

(b) Agreement with Eastern Orthodoxy

Westermann’s "primeval history" approach resonates with the Orthodox concept of Ancestral Sin (as opposed to Original Sin) and Mortality vs. Guilt: Eastern Orthodoxy teaches that we inherit Adam’s mortality, not his guilt. Westermann similarly focuses on the "limits" placed on humanity (death and toil) as the primary consequence of the garden narrative.

The Goal is Still Union: Westermann’s idea that God remains "at work" in the world after the garden mirrors the Orthodox view that the Imago Dei (Image of God) was darkened but not destroyed.
Process over Event: He views the "fall" as a description of human frailty, which aligns with the Orthodox view of humanity as being created in an "infant" or "developing" state rather than a state of static perfection.

Last Orders! The Reform of the Licencing Law and why it may cost the consumer more

Reforming the Jersey alcohol licensing law has taken over 16 years of active discussion and multiple failed attempts. While the previous legislation (Licensing (Jersey) Law 1974) remained largely unchanged for over 50 years, the specific effort to modernize the system and dismantle the Licensing Assembly began in earnest around 2009. It has only just been approved now!

Bailiwick Express reports that

"Jersey’s long-standing licensing assembly will be dismantled, with powers over alcohol licensing handed over to government regulators in one of the most significant upheavals of the island’s licensing system in decades."

"The package of reforms, brought forward by Economic Development Minister Kirsten Morel, aimed at “reducing complexities” and speeding up the process for businesses seeking licences."

"Under the new law, the Licensing Assembly will be abolished, with oversight passing to the government’s Regulation Directorate."

Good news? Perhaps not for the consumer. The words "government’s Regulation Directorate" suggest bureaucracy and extra costs, despite it being an existing body (albeit unknown to most of the population). And the suggestion would not be wholly wrong!

While the reform aims to be cost-neutral for the taxpayer, it will lead to significant changes in fee structures.

The new regulatory system is intended to be funded by the hospitality and retail industry through licence fees rather than general taxation. In simple terms, while the hospitality industry has always paid for licences, the old system was essentially a subsidised service, whereas the new one is a commercial-style regulatory model. 

For decades, the Licensing Assembly (made up of Jurats and the Bailiff) operated through the Royal Court. Because the Jurats are volunteers and the court's administrative costs are bundled into the general judicial budget, the "true" cost of running the licensing system was unquantified and largely covered by the taxpayer.

Under the new system this will be moved to the "Regulation Directorate". This is a government department with paid staff, digital infrastructure, and operational overheads. To avoid using general tax money, the new law sets fees at a "cost recovery" level. Essentially, the industry is now paying for the full salary and desk of the person processing their application.

Expect an expansion of civil servants within the directorate, unless I am being unduly cynical. Official Ministerial Decisions signed in early 2026 explicitly state there are no financial or staffing implications resulting from the transfer of licensing duties. I'll believe that if it is true in 2027. 

For instance, handling the "centuries-old" volume of applications previously managed by the court system may require additional administrative and technical staff. The Directorate must now publish all applications online and provide formal explanations to Parish Constables if their decisions differ from local Parish Assembly views, adding a new layer of mandatory administrative work.

Within the existing system, fees have been largely "static" since 2006. A large supermarket pays the same flat fee as a small corner shop for an off-licence, which doesn't reflect the regulatory effort or their market share. 

The government is shifting the burden toward off-licences (supermarkets and liquor stores), which now account for roughly two-thirds of the alcohol market. This allows them to keep fees for struggling hospitality venues (pubs and restaurants) more stable while still funding the new Directorate's workload.

While the Regulation Directorate’s goal is to be "cost-neutral" for the government, the retailer's costs are going up, and those are usually passed straight to you. So expect to pay more at the supermarket - although this may reduce binge drinking, so is not entirely bad news for health.

As of early 2026, existing licence fees generate approximately £260,000 annually for the department; the Directorate expects to handle an additional 30–40 new applications per year under the expanded regime. Fees have not seen a standard inflationary increase since 2007. The Regulation Directorate will set fees to achieve "full cost recovery," meaning the industry must pay for the Directorate's staff, digital systems, and enforcement.

But on the positive side, many businesses currently pay multiple fees for different categories (e.g., a "Taverner's" licence plus an "Entertainment" licence). The new system collapses these into just three categories (On-licence, Off-licence, and Events), which may reduce total individual payments for some venues even if per-licence rates rise.

A Short Story: I am here

Again, I have based this short story on a poem I wrote ages ago, loosely based on Isaiah 58:9.

I Am Here

The rain had been falling for hours, soaking the streets of Reading and the spirits of those who walked them. Marla stood beneath the awning of the shelter, arms crossed, watching the line of people stretch down the block. Some clutched blankets, others held plastic bags with all they owned. Most just waited, silent and soaked.

She had volunteered here for years, but tonight felt heavier. Maybe it was the weather. Maybe it was the man who had shouted at her earlier, angry that there weren’t enough beds. Maybe it was the way her own heart felt clenched, like a fist she couldn’t release.

Inside, the soup simmered. Bread was sliced. Volunteers moved with practiced rhythm. But Marla lingered at the door, unsure why she couldn’t step back in.

A voice broke her reverie: “You alright?” It was Thomas, the shelter’s night manager. His coat was damp, his eyes tired but kind. Marla hesitated. “I don’t know. I just… I feel like I’m failing. Like we’re all failing.” Thomas nodded slowly. “It’s easy to feel that way. But this isn’t about fixing everything. It’s about showing up.” She looked at him, unsure what to say.

He continued, “Isaiah says, ‘Share your food with the hungry, and do not turn away from your own flesh and blood.’ That’s not a strategy. It’s an act of love.” Marla blinked, surprised by the scripture. “You quoting prophets now?” Thomas smiled. “Only the good ones.” They stood in silence for a moment, the rain softening to a mist.

Then Marla saw her. A girl, maybe ten, standing at the edge of the line. No coat. No shoes. Just a soaked hoodie and a plastic bag clutched to her chest. Her lips were blue. Marla moved without thinking. She grabbed a blanket from the bin inside, a bowl of soup, and a pair of dry socks. She knelt before the girl, wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, and offered the soup.

The girl looked at her with wide eyes, unsure whether to trust. “It’s okay,” Marla said gently. “You’re safe now.” The girl took the bowl, hands trembling. She didn’t speak, but her eyes said everything.

Marla sat beside her on the wet pavement, not caring about the cold. She didn’t ask questions. She just stayed.

And in that moment, something shifted. The clenched fist inside her heart loosened. The bitterness she hadn’t named began to dissolve. She felt the warmth of the soup, the weight of the blanket, the quiet presence of a child who had been brave enough to show up.

Later, as the girl slept in one of the last beds, Marla stood in the hallway and whispered a prayer—not polished, not perfect, just honest. “I’m tired. I’m angry. But I want to keep showing up. Help me.”

And in the silence that followed, she felt it: not a voice, not a miracle, but a presence. A nearness. As if the answer had already come. As if the words were already spoken: “I am here.”

Short Stories: You Will Become Clean

You Will Become Clean
(A short story based on a poem of mine based on (2 Kings 5:13)

Naaman had always been a man who filled a room. Even before he spoke, people straightened their backs, adjusted their cloaks, and tried to look useful. He was the commander of Aram’s armies, a man whose victories were sung by soldiers around their fires. Yet for all his strength, Naaman carried a private dread beneath his armour: the creeping, mottled patches on his skin that no ointment, no priest, no whispered charm had ever eased. The scourge of leprosy.

He hid it well. A general learns to hide many things. But the disease advanced, slow and relentless, and Naaman felt his world narrowing. He feared the day when his men would recoil, or when the king’s favour would cool into pity.

It was a young servant girl, an Israelite taken in war, who first spoke hope into his despair. She told Naaman’s wife of a prophet in Samaria, a man of God who could heal what no physician could touch. Naaman resisted the idea at first. It seemed absurd that a foreign holy man might succeed where Aram’s finest healers had failed. But desperation has a way of loosening pride, and soon he was on the road with a royal letter, gifts, and a caravan of soldiers.

When he reached the house of Elisha, he expected ceremony. He expected the prophet to come out, wave his hands, call upon heaven, and perform something suitably impressive for a man of his rank. Instead, a servant opened the door and delivered a simple message:

“Go and wash in the Jordan seven times. Your flesh will be restored, and you will become clean.”

Naaman felt heat rise in his chest: anger, humiliation, disbelief. The Jordan? That muddy trickle compared to the broad rivers of Damascus? Was this a joke at his expense? He turned his horse sharply, ready to leave the whole foolish errand behind.

But his servants, who knew him well enough to risk honesty, rode alongside and spoke gently.

“My father,” one said, “if the prophet had asked you to do something difficult, you would have done it. Why not try this simple thing?”

Their words settled on him like cool water. Naaman slowed. Pride is a heavy armour, and he felt its weight now. He realised he could either cling to it or be healed, but not both. So he went down to the Jordan.

The water was cold, unremarkable, almost disappointing. But he stepped in. Once. Twice. Three times. With each immersion he felt something loosening, not on his skin, but in his heart. By the seventh time, when he rose and wiped the water from his eyes, he saw his flesh renewed, smooth as a child’s.

Naaman stood in the river, stunned. The healing was real, but so was the change within him. He had come seeking a cure; he received instead a lesson in humility, trust, and the quiet power of obedience.

And as he rode home, the sunlight warm on his restored skin, he understood something he had never grasped before: sometimes the smallest act, stepping into the water, admitting our need, is the doorway through which grace enters and makes us clean.

But Naaman’s story lingers long after. The water that restored him still speaks to us, still moves through the life of the Church. The water washes still today, when we follow on this way, in prayer and water, making us clean. In every baptism, even in the gentle lifting of a child at the font, and the pouring of water over the head, the same quiet mercy flows, the same invitation of grace and renewal.

The Sunday Archive: The Pilot, August 1997 - Part 12

The Sunday Archive: The Pilot, August 1997 - Part 12

SHORTLY after his arrival in a new parish, the vicar was asked to conduct a funeral service.

In the service he announced: "I'm sorry that I cannot pay tribute to the deceased as I did not know him. But if any of you would like to say a few words, please feel free to do so."

There was complete silence. "Now don't be shy," continued the vicar, "I'm sure some of you would like to say a kindly word about your friend." Finally a voice from the back muttered: "His brother was worse!"

—Rev John Dodd, Grouville

St Luke and St James
From
DAVID JONES Priest-in-Charge

The Winds of Change and the Challenge to Share

THE twentieth century crept closer to the Established Church in the Bailiwick of Jersey last month, yet the Deanery Synod again ran away from facing the need to look at the present conditions of the Church of England and what the future held and the challenge to change. Ours is the last Deanery in our Diocese to face the challenge! The "Other Island" has already done its job. Why is Jersey last? What a reputation, when we could be leading the way with imagination and flare! A lot was said about history and the need to preserve, and not in "my parish," and why not next door?

For those of you unaware of the issue, it was the need to release two clergy posts in the Island, so that places with greater need may benefit on the mainland. This is something new for us here but very common for the last twenty years in the UK. Back in the 70's it was realised that most of the Church of England's clergy were in the rural areas, when most of the population lived in urban areas. 

So a process of better use of the manpower of the Church was undertaken and the number of clergy, serving relatively small populations, was reduced by the uniting of parishes under one priest. Added to this there were, and are, less men (and now women) offering themselves for the Ordained Ministry and less money to pay for them. Thus there was a growing need, with less resources. Since those days country and town parishes have had to cut their cloth according to the means available.

I came to Jersey from three rural parishes of the size of St Mary's and St John's, scattered over 30 square miles. We had three church schools to run and to be chairman of the governors and trustee of. Three church councils to run. Three parish councils to attend and the raising of funds to maintain all three church buildings, and pay the Quota, and give to mission. Yes, with the visiting and the growing of congregations. That group of three is now, like many others, to increase to five parishes soon. Still with only one Rector. My situation was far from unique, as there were Rectors nearby with five, six and seven parishes.

Yes, I know that Rectors on Jersey are different and play a part in the civil parish administration, but they, unlike their UK fellows, get their church and rectories maintained by the civil authorities and don't have the burden of work, raising funds to do the repair and restoration, themselves (like, I might say, the district churches here do!).

The challenge all of the Anglican churches in Jersey have, is to take our part in the wider Church of which we belong (a wider Church that supports those parishes here who do not pay their full Quota, by subsidising them.) We have more than our fair share of clergy. We need to share our priests, and at the moment release two for service elsewhere. To somewhere with a great need (and population). We may need to release more, only time will tell. But this surely is part of being Christians together, helping where there is the greater need.

We face a challenge, country parishes and the parishes and churches around the town of St Helier; are we making the best use of our limited manpower resources? Let us make the creative choices, rather than have them imposed on us, because we have run away from the challenge. This time, is not a time of doom and gloom, though, but a time of opportunity. Sharing a priest can release the ministries of other people, as is evident in many a parish church in the UK where one man has charge of a group of two, three or four. It is a time to seek a new vision from God as to what is His task for His people in this generation.

The talking will go on, let us pray that we Anglicans in this Island may not duck the issues, but meet them with courage, imagination and the Spirit of Christian generosity. That come November we may have a plan for our future development, worthy of those who follow the God who makes all things new and is ever moving onward.

Much more can and will be said, but we cannot get away from the fact that we have more than our fair share of clergy. Let us meet that truth together. And together rise to the challenge.

DIARY DATES FOR AUGUST

1st-4th: Choir Tour singing in Sherbourne Abbey. 4th: Prayer School, 7.30 pm.
7th: MU Overseas Coffee Morning at church, 11 am-12 noon.
10th: Fun Day and Barbeque at the Vicarage from 2 pm.
17th: Songs of Praise in support of the Children's Society.
31st: Church Picnic and Scavenger Hunt at Gorey.

REGISTERS

HOLY BAPTISM. 1st June, Alexander Lopes; 15th June, Kerry McFarlane; 22nd June, Katherine Veitch, Samuel Allen; 6th July, Jamie Larbaliester, Sean Herbert, Luke Piziura; 13th July, Oliver Bybarezuk.

HOLY MATRIMONY. 28th June, Timothy Marsh and Jocelyne Le Guerne; 12th July, Michael Arnold and Tracey Huggett.

St Brelade, St Aubin on the Hill and Communicare

HOLY BAPTISM. 1st June, Robyn Wellman; 15th June, Fraser Barlow, Jemima Hill; 29th June, Stacy Benstead.

HOLY MATRIMONY. 7th June, Matthew Ahier and Silke Viola; Jonathan Williams and Sarah Mallet; 14th June, Robin Ovenden and Lucy Hackett; Andrew Chamberlain and Victoria Duckett; 21st June, Alun Evans and Sarah Pinel; 28th, Stephen de Gruchy and Fiona Macintosh.

 

The Font

I wanted to write a poem about the font in St Brelade's Church to show how the Eastern Church Fathers speak about infant baptism. The Fathers consistently describe baptism as grace given, new birth, entry into the family of God, and a participation in the Church’s living continuity across generations. This is something lost in the sacramental minimalism and iconoclasm of the Reformation.

The Font

Carved from granite, with loving prayer:
It stands in the church, and brings near,
The past, the ages gone, of babies brought
To be baptised, because they ought;
Forbid not little children, said our Lord,
And so the priest, the water poured,
Upon the child, and made the sign
Of the cross, of the love so divine;
Generations came on such a day,
To bless the child, to love and pray;
What do you see? To see mere stone,
Or the place where faith once shone,
And does now, not just times past,
But a sign in stone of faith to last,
Of baptism into the family holy;
Water and faith, to one so lowly,
Pregnant with the Spirit above,
Descending with grace and love,
As water is poured over the head,
A tapestry gains one more thread;

Heaven descends upon the earth:

A sign of grace, of second birth.


Appendix: The Font as Stone and Sign

The poem’s meditation on the font as both “mere stone” and “a sign in stone of faith to last” matches the Eastern sacramental imagination. The Fathers often speak of material things (water, oil, stone, bread) as transfigured bearers of divine grace. The granite font in the poem becomes a witness across centuries, just as they describe the Church’s sacraments as living memory embodied in matter.

Baptism as new birth: The poem speaks of “second birth” and heaven descending to earth. Eastern Fathers, from Irenaeus to Cyril of Jerusalem, speak of baptism as regeneration, a true birth from above, not merely symbolic.

Grace given to the lowly: The line “Water and faith, to one so lowly” resonates with their insistence that baptism is God’s action, not human achievement. Origen explicitly says infants are baptised  because they too need the healing grace of Christ. 

The child welcomed into the family: The poem’s sense of being woven into a “tapestry” mirrors the Fathers’ understanding of baptism as incorporation into the Body of Christ, the household of faith. [Here I have also drawn on Oscar Cullman's "Baptism in the New Testament".]

Generational continuity: Eastern tradition emphasises the Church as a living organism across time. The poem’s movement through “ages gone” and “generations came on such a day” reflects that same sacramental memory.

The font as a place where heaven touches earth: This is deeply patristic. Chrysostom, for example, describes the baptismal waters as “pregnant with the Spirit,” a place where divine life is poured out.

The Font as Stone and Sign: I wanted to place the font as both “mere stone” and “a sign in stone of faith to last” to match the Eastern sacramental imagination. The Fathers often speak of material things (water, oil, stone, bread) as transfigured bearers of divine grace. The granite font becomes a witness across centuries, just as they describe the Church’s sacraments as living memory embodied in matter. 

1986 - 40 years ago - March - Part 1

1986 - 40 years ago - March - Part 1

March 3-9

A MOTORIST is killed when his car crashes into a wall at Gorey in the early hours of the morning. The dead man is named as Mr Darrell William Gluyas (27).

A Jersey Evening Post inquiry reveals that motorists are paying at least 20p a gallon more than they should be for petrol and that garages are imposing a mark up three times greater than their UK counterparts.

As a result of the disclosures, the Economic Adviser is to look into the Island's petrol prices.

A 49-year-old man, Mr Norman Spence, is taken to hospital with serious injuries after he was trapped under a tractor which overturns on a St Ouen cotil.

Plans formulated by St Paul's Football Club to turn a near-derelict nursery in St Saviour into a football pitch are rejected by the Island Development Committee, but the club says that it intends to appeal against the decision.

Deputy Margaret Beadle is to select a committee to investigate the possibility of St Brelade returning to compete in the Battle of Flowers. The parish last entered a float 14 years ago.

The results of a survey carried out during the summer of 1985 reveals new geological information about the formation of the Channel Islands early in the history of the Earth.

Farmers throughout the Island use polythene sheeting on a larger scale than ever before to protect early potato crops. It is estimated that 3,000 vergees of Royals will ultimately be grown under wraps.

March 10--16

THE Constable of St Saviour, Mr Len Norman, collapses at work and dies shortly afterwards. Aged 64, he had only just been re-elected to serve a fourth term in office.

Vandals leave a two-mile trail of destruction along the east coast. Road signs are uprooted, equipment at Les Viviers de Ste Catherine is smashed and cars are damaged.

A Jersey Evening Post appeal results in donations of almost £2,000 in cash which will allow 20-year-old Graeme Humber, who is handicapped, to remain at home with his mother.

Miss Phyllis Haines, the former head-mistress of Helvetia House School, dies at the age of 80.

The Jersey Electricity Company's accounts are published and show that profits of nearly £3 million were made in the first nine months of 1985. This is almost £800,000 more than the entire profits for 1984.

Workmen resurfacing Vine Street reveal wooden cobbles lain before the First World War. The assistant town surveyor says that attempts will be made to preserve the cobbles.

A report from the Agriculture and Fisheries Committee shows that total borrowings under the States Agricultural Loans Scheme more than doubled in 1985 to more than £1.2 million.

It is announced by Public Works Committee president Deputy Don Filleul that a memorial to Islanders who were interned in Germany during the Second World War is to be erected in Howard Davis Park.

A Short Story: Integrity

My short story today is based on a poem I wrote, itself based on Ezekiel 18:22, another tale for Lent.

Integrity

A thin rain drifted across the dunes at La Pulente, soft as breath, barely enough to blur the footprints on the sand. Thomas Le Brocq walked with his head lowered, hands deep in his coat pockets, as if the wind might read the shame he carried. He had come here because the tide was turning, and he needed something in his life to turn with it.

He had spent years building a reputation as a dependable man in the parish. He chaired committees, read lessons on Sundays, and always had a ready smile. Yet beneath the surface he had been cutting corners in his work, telling small lies that grew into larger ones, and letting resentment shape his choices. When it all came to light, the shock in people’s eyes had been worse than any punishment. They had trusted him. He had trusted himself. Now both felt broken.

He stopped beside a rock pool where the water lay still and dark. His reflection wavered in the shallow basin. It looked like a stranger. He whispered the words he had avoided for weeks. “I did this. No one else.”

The tide pushed forward with a long sigh, filling the edges of the pool. The sound steadied him. He remembered a line from the prophet he had heard as a child: Turn from wrong, and you will see that life in truth is harmony. He had always thought repentance was a single moment, a dramatic turning. Now he saw it was slower, like the tide itself, advancing in small, persistent movements.

He walked on until he reached the slipway where the fishermen kept their boats. An old man was mending a net, his fingers moving with the ease of long practice. Thomas hesitated, then greeted him. The old man nodded, neither warm nor cold, simply present.

“You’re Thomas,” he said after a moment. “Folk have been talking.”

Thomas felt his stomach tighten. “I know. And they’re right.”

The old man tied off a knot and looked up. “A net tears. You mend it. Takes time, but it holds again. Folk are the same.”

Thomas let out a breath he had been holding for weeks. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Start by not hiding,” the old man replied. “A man who lives a lie is already halfway drowned. Stand in the open. Let the truth breathe.”

They spoke a little longer, nothing dramatic, just simple words that settled like pebbles in the mind. When Thomas turned to leave, the old man called after him. “Integrity isn’t about never falling. It’s about choosing the next right step.”

The rain eased. A faint light broke through the clouds, touching the wet sand with a pale shimmer. Thomas walked back along the beach, feeling the weight inside him shift. He could not undo what he had done, but he could choose what came next. He could apologise without excuses. He could rebuild trust without demanding it. He could let truth shape him, not fear.

As he reached the path home, he looked once more at the sea. The tide had risen, covering the rock pools, smoothing the beach into a clean, unbroken sweep. It was not a promise of ease, but it was a sign of movement, of renewal, of the quiet work that reshapes a shoreline.

He stepped forward, carrying within him the first small piece of a renewed hope.