The Joy of Six 1454

"At its core, A Christmas Carol is the transformation of a man without empathy, to a man with empathy. It accomplishes this through forcing the character Ebenezer Scrooge to remember the past, witness the present, and to consider the future. It is through seeing other human beings as human beings with lives equal in worth to his own, that forms the basis of Scrooge's transformation." Scott Santens sets out the science behind Charles Dickens' famous story.

Barbara Speed on the shocking scale of the abuse perpetrated by the Jesus Army: "The ... coroner returned an open verdict, but noted his 'concern' about the two strange deaths and the letters he had received from parents of young people in the fellowship, who were worried about their children’s safety. These incidents were closely reported by local media but never became national news."

Welcome to the working week - Microsoft Teams will soon start telling your boss where you are, reports Zak Doffman.

"I think, therefore I am" isn’t the best translation of Descartes’s famous pronouncement "cogito, ergo sum", argues Galen Strawson.

Owen Hatherley has been watching a new box set of immediately post-war films from the DDR: "'Rubble films' were sponsored by the Soviet occupiers of Eastern Germany and East Berlin as part of the project of de-Nazification, with the theory being that mass market film was uniquely suited to forcing ordinary Germans to understand and come to terms with what they had done. It was a brief moment, necessarily compromised ... but the films are fascinating as attempts to make antifascist commercial blockbusters, in a devastated society that would have preferred to think about almost anything else."

Gavin Speed looks at the latest research into Saxon Leicestershire: "Along the River Welland in south-east Leicestershire, extensive fieldwalking surveys have identified several settlements close to the north of the river, and close to former Roman roads."

Alleged Jesus Army abusers may receive larger pay outs than were given to victims

Since the broadcast of a BBC documentary, Inside the Cult of the Jesus Army, Kathleen Hallisey, a lawyer from Scott-Moncrieff and Associates, has taken on about 60 new clients who are pursuing claims.

The BBC News report also reminds us of a worrying discovery:

A lawyer representing 150 victims of the Jesus Army said plans to allow people accused of child abuse to receive a share of the cult's fortune were "shameful".

A BBC investigation revealed 172 former loyal members of the disgraced Northamptonshire-based evangelical sect would receive much larger payouts than those awarded to victims under a redress scheme.

It is understood some who have been people accused of perpetrating or covering up abuse could be among the beneficiaries of the group's assets – which is estimated to be more £50m – a prospect survivors have described as "sickening".

Malcolm Johnson, a lawyer from Lime Solicitors, said the only right action to take was redirect the leftover assets for charitable use.

Once again, I'm left wondering why the scandal surrounding the Jesus Army hasn't been a bigger story.

The Joy of Six 1391

“The Jesus Army, or JA, seemed to own everything, like a religious multinational corporation, with money and investments everywhere. Big Victorian houses scattered across the area, from Kingsley to Kingsthorpe, Semilong to St James and villages beyond were home to followers. All of whom, we were told, had given up everything, their houses, their salaries, even ownership of their cars and bank accounts, to this huge cult-like organisation.” Hilary Scott lived in Northampton alongside the cult of Noel Stanton for 25 years.

Steve Darling, as the Local Government Association explains, used his lived experience as a disabled person to change the culture of Torbay Council. He raised awareness and worked with other disabled colleagues to reduce barriers for both staff and councillors.

Rowan Moore on the battle over Liverpool Street station.

“Most of the inhabitants of these remote regions were not, he suggests, truly pagan;'s instead, they practised creolised religions that combined Christian elements with traditional rituals. Many had been baptised, and some attended church. But the depth of their faith was (often justifiably) doubted by outsiders, whose views were heavily influenced by lurid tales of human sacrifice, sexual deviance, and snake worship.” Katherine Harvey reviews Francis Young's The Silence of the Gods, a study of religion in North-Eastern Europe between the Middle Ages and the 19th century.

Nation Cymru reports on moves to restore the Swansea and Tennant Canals: “New waterways will be constructed to link the River Tawe to historic canals at Port Tennant and at Clydach, to create a 35-mile boat trip across Swansea Bay. Avenues of trees will shade the canal paths from climate change and provide a haven for wildlife.”

“If Kubrick invokes Hogarth in the service of cynicism, the way he uses setting and landscape is no less cutting – at least, on the surface. He frequently uses long zoom-outs to make his characters seem dwarfed by their surroundings, suggesting the transience of Barry’s actions, and the pettiness of his woes, against a seemingly timeless backdrop.” Arjun Sajip looks at the use Stanley Kubrick made of 18th-century art in his 1975 film Barry Lyndon.

The Jesus Army: A column for the Journal of Critical Psychology, Counselling and Psychotherapy

There is a long read on the Jesus Army in today Guardian, and on Sunday the BBC beings showing a two-part documentary series called Inside the Cult of the Jesus Army.

I have been blogging about the Jesus Army several times in the last three years and devoted one of my quarterly Sighcology columns in the Journal of Critical Psychology, Counselling and Psychotherapy to it.

Sighcology: The Jesus Army

Somehow Bugbrooke isn’t the sort of place you expect to spawn a dangerous cult. People with well-paid jobs in Northampton, a few miles to the east, search for houses there. It has a pub on its high street and a second just outside the village where you can watch boats go by on the Grand Union Canal. St Michael and All Angels, its church, dates from the early 13th century.

But it was Bugbrooke’s Baptist chapel that in 1969 gave birth to the Jesus Fellowship, later to be popularly known as the Jesus Army. Its leader, a lay pastor called Noel Stanton, soon attracted a younger and larger congregation.

In 1974 the village’s Anglican rectory was purchased to house a Christian commune. By the early 1990s, there were 850 people living in 60 Jesus Army communal households scattered across the Midlands. 

The Army also preached to people in the street, seeking out the addicted and destitute. Some were scooped up and came to live in its communes and work in its commercial activities – the Army operated shops, businesses and two large farms. As Medieval monasteries proved, taking vows of poverty can make you paradoxically prosperous.

Stanton, described in one BBC report as “a firebrand who preached daily about sins of the flesh”, died in 2009. It will come as no surprise to you students of human psychology that allegations he had committed sexual assaults against boys soon began to emerge. 

By 2019, accusations had been made against 43 people who were active in the Jesus Army, and hundreds of former members were seeking damages for alleged abuse. This included rapes, bullying, brainwashing, forced labour, financial bondage and beatings of young boys by groups of men. The BBC was told that children suffered sexual, physical and emotional abuse “on a prolific scale”.

*****

One of the talents of a backwoods Conservative MP used to be the ability to spot bounders and bad hats – I think it was something to do with the number of buttons on the cuffs of their suits. And you have to hand it to Michael Morris, who sat for Northampton South between 1974 and 1997: he was on to Noel Stanton.

Thanks to the extensive online archive of press coverage maintained by Jesus Army Watch, we can see that in 1985 he expressed concern about members of the Army holding posts as teachers, doctors and social workers: 

“I strongly object to people following a particular cult or philosophy holding an influential position in society where there is a danger they can influence people into their faith.”

A year later he called on Northampton Borough Council to ban the Army from its land and buildings.

Another item you can find in this archive is an article William Dalrymple published in the Independent in 1989 after visiting Bugbrooke. He was only 24, but this was also the year Dalrymple published his first book, In Xanadu. Today he is a much-decorated historian with particular expertise in the Indian subcontinent and its religions.

Dalrymple listed many of the charges laid against the Jesus Army, contrasting this catalogue with the happy experiences of the people he met in Bugbrooke. He then quoted a sociologist as saying that the term “brainwashing” is nothing more than a metaphor used to explain strong religious convictions by people who find them inexplicable.

But Dalrymple had already quoted an account by a former member of the Army that shows this explanation won’t do: 

“You have to fit in,” he says. “They take away your ability to make your own choices and you cannot express your own opinions. If you don't obey Noel you're accused of not loving Christ.”

In the end, he clashed personally with Stanton. “He turned everyone against me,” he remembers. “All my old friends cut me dead. One guy came up to me and fell on his knees crying and weeping, saying 'God forgive him.' It scared the hell out of me. Then they began trying to persuade me I was insane – possessed by demons.”

Eventually he fled to Denmark … but the Jesus People traced him there. “They kept ringing me up and telling me I had the heart of Judas Iscariot and was under God's judgement.”

As a partisan of the Midlands, I take a certain grim satisfaction from seeing a writer who has mastered the subtleties of Eastern religions defeated by those of Northamptonshire.

******

It’s easy to call someone like Stanton a hypocrite, but we’re all good at keeping contradictory beliefs and actions well apart in our minds. I recall someone else who shared Evangelical Christians’ remarkable affection for corporal punishment, John Smyth. He was Mary Whitehouse’s barrister and a fellow campaigner for purity, who posthumously brought down an Archbishop of Canterbury.

He had attached himself to Winchester, the public school, leading some pupils in religious discussions. One of the housemasters described a friendly conversation with him. “It’s good of you to give up your time like this,” he said to Smyth, “and the boys obviously enjoy their time with you, but I notice you only ever invite the good-looking boys.”

At this, he recalled, Smyth curled up in his chair into an extraordinary foetal position. I suspect he feared the compartments in his mind were about to be ripped down.

******

I no longer see the Jesus Army’s bus, in its Scooby Doo colours, passing through the town where I live; nor do I see it parked up in the centre of Leicester as the crowds are evangelised. The Jesus Centre in Northampton, a striking art deco cinema the cult owned, is now a theatre and conference centre.

A news report I saw late last year said the organisation winding up the Army’s affairs had accepted liability for 264 perpetrators of abuse, but 539 people have been named as offenders by former members.

So far £7.7m has been paid in compensation, the money raised by sale of the Army’s properties. And I am left wondering why this extraordinary scandal has not received more media coverage.

Part 1 of Inside the Cult of the Jesus Army will be aired on 27 July

The first part of the BBC's two-part documentary on the Jesus Army, the abusive cult that grew out of the Northamptonshire village of Bugbrooke, will be broadcast on Sunday 27 July. It goes out on BBC2 at 9pm, and its full title is Inside the Cult of the Jesus Army.

On the BBC website it's billed as follows:

A look at the origins of the Jesus Fellowship. Founded in the 1970s, its early vision of communal living, shared finances and spiritual commitment changes over time, becoming more structured and controlling. Unexplained deaths begin to occur within the community, exorcisms are performed on members with "unclean spirits", and children as young as two are disciplined with birch canes in a practice known as "rodding".

Then, in 1987, leader Noel Stanton announces the launch of a "Jesus Army". Members go onto the streets to evangelise, often amongst the homeless or people with addiction issues, and often bring new recruits back into community homes. One of these homes is in London, and it is here that a young girl becomes a witness to something that will change her life forever.

I blogged about the plans for this documentary when it was first announced. Given the scale of the abuse it perpetrated, I'm surprised the Jesus Army has not been more of a news story.

Part 2 will be screened at the same time on Sunday 3 August.

BBC2 to screen two-part documentary about the Jesus Army

I've blogged before about the Jesus Army, the cult that originated at Bugbrooke in Northamptonshire, and how compensation paid to survivors of abuse within it may reach £10m. And I've long wondered why this story has not received more media attention.

That may at last be changing, as BBC2 is to show a two-part documentary, Inside the Jesus Army, on this scandal.

I've not seen the transmission dates for them yet, but BBC Factual has page about the two programmes:

Daisy Scalchi, Head of Commissioning, Religion and Ethics, said: "This is a shocking tale of abuse hiding in plain sight. Those who have bravely shared their stories will, I hope, give voice not only to their own experiences but many others like them."

Katie Buchanan, Executive Producer, said: “This is a compelling, urgent and timely story that it is only now coming to light thanks to the powerful testimony of survivors and former members.”

Compensation to victims of the Jesus Army may total £10m

The disbanded, Northampton-based cult The Jesus Army is back in the news today. The Northampton Chronicle & Echo reports that the compensation to be paid to survivors of abuse within the cult may reach £10m.

I blogged about the Jesus Army a few years ago, and the Chronicle & Echo gives a brief history of it today:

Originally set up by founder Noel Stanton in Bugbrooke in 1969, the Jesus Army was a cult-like religious movement, which attracted thousands of members who lived together in close-knit, rural communes. Mr Stanton remained at the helm of the organisation until 2009 when he died.

In 2017 the new leader Mick Haines said, in a speech, he had become aware of “serious allegations” about Mr Stanton.

More allegations of financial, emotional, physical and sexual abuse from both children and adults have surfaced. In 2019 Chronicle & Echo reported some 200 claims had been made.

A number of people have been convicted of carrying out abuse at the Jesus Fellowship Church, which has since issued an apology.

My reason for blogging about this today is that I recently came across a comprehensive online archive on the Jesus Army.

Studying it you find t hat some people had serious doubts about the Jesus Army from the start. Here is a reader's letter to the Chronicle & Echo dated 28 October 1986:

Probe this group

While not always accepting the political views of Mr Michael Morris MP, I agree with his recent call for a government inquiry into The Jesus People at Bugbrooke.

Having heard and listened to many frightening experiences concerning their very obscure methods of the teachings of Christ, and having recently heard through the papers, that a second cousin of mine who did join this group has killed himself I hope that Government sees the seriousness of such a group operating here in the United Kingdom and acts fast.

One of the skills the traditional Conservative MP was expected to possess was the ability to spot a wrongun when he saw one, and Michael Morris certainly possessed it.

And then there was an article by William Dalrymple in the Independent Magazine for 8 April 1989. William Dalrymple the historian would have been only 24 at the time this was published, but I do think he was the author. This blog's hero Ian Jack was the editor of the Independent Magazine in those days and was known for identifying and encouraging young talent.

Dalrymple catalogues some of the allegations against the Jesus Army, including their involvement in a number of deaths. Then he goes to have dinner at the group's community house in Bugbrooke, finds them to be charming people and wonders what all the fuss has been about.

This is a legitimate article to write - if a controversial group is in the news, go and meet them and see what they're like. But if the Jesus Army were a sinister cult - and that's exactly what it turned out to be - it was hardly going to reveal this to him over dinner. Dalrymple does not come across as sufficiently aware of this.

And then he takes a wrong turn:

England is now, at root, a deeply secular society where extreme expressions of fundamentalist belief are frowned upon. The hostility that the Jesus People have aroused in many quarters reflects the fact that most people now find strong religious convictions utterly incomprehensible. 

According to Dr Eileen Barker, a sociologist of religion at the London School of Economics, the term brainwashing used against sects like the Jesus People is now nothing more than a metaphor to explain strong religious convictions by people who find them inexplicable: 

'Today people find it very difficult to accept that someone could be prepared to sacrifice everything that is normally regarded as important for an idea. There is a fundamental problem of communication. Neither side can understand the other; they have a totally different world vision.'

Everything Dalrymple and Barker say here may be correct, but it has no relevance to the truth or falsity of the allegations against the Jesus People.

As Karl Popper says somewhere, how we come up with a scientific hypothesis is a question of human psychology: it has no bearing on that hypothesis's truth or falsity. 

Similarly, an investigator may be driven by a hatred of religion, but you still have to examine the evidence he puts forward. You can't dismiss allegations of abuse just by psychoanalysing the person who makes them.

Compensation scheme opens for victims of the Jesus Army

The dangers posed by religious cults were emphasised by a story posted on BBC News a few days ago:

A compensation scheme for survivors of sexual, physical and emotional abuse at the now-defunct Jesus Army has opened.

In 2019, ex-members told the BBC how children suffered abuse on a "prolific scale", with most claims relating to incidents between the 1970s and 1990s.

The Jesus Fellowship Church Trust (JFCT) said survivors could be entitled to compensation, a written apology and an "acceptance of responsibility".

The Jesus Army's headquarters were in Northampton - I took the photo above in 2017 - and they held property worth £50m in London and across the Midlands when they shut down in 2020.

I recall seeing their vehicles passing through Market Harborough from time to time. They gave of a hippyish, Scooby Doo vibe at odds with the dark realities of this cult.

If you wish, you can learn more about the Jesus Army from this BBC report.