Patrick Comerford
When I was writing about the sundial at Dial House on Bristle Hill in Buckingham on Thursday (29 January 2026), I noted that the Latin inscription had been provided by Bishop Stephen Verney (1919-2009), who died only a year after the dial was installed by the late Anthony Randall (1933-2021).
Bishop Stephen has been described as ‘brave, open-thinking and creative’ with a ‘strong romantic side’. He had been a conscientious objector during World War II, but later became an undercover agent in occupied Crete, working with the Greek resistance. He was as an Oxford classicist and at one time his book Water into Wine (1985) had a profound influence on my understandings of Saint John’s Gospel.
Because of a combination of so many of his interests – classical Greek, early pacifism, the resistance in Crete, the Cross of Nails in Coventry Cathedral and Saint John’s Gospel – as well as his family links with Buckinghamshire, I said at the time I should return to his story in the days or weeks to come
The Gospel reading tomorrow, in those places where it is marked as the Fourth Sunday after Epiphany, is John 2: 1-11, the story of the Wedding at Cana and changing water into wine, which inspired that book by Stephen Verney, Water into Wine (1985), and I found myself this week trying to find one of my copies of this book.
Stephen Edmund Verney was the second Bishop of Repton (1977-1985) and when he retired he was an honorary assistant bishop in the Diocese of Oxford. He was born on 17 April 1919 in Anglesey at his paternal grandmother’s home. His father, Sir Harry Verney (1881-1974), 4th Baronet, of Claydon House, had been the Liberal MP for Buckingham until 1918, held a number of junior ministerial posts and won a DSO in World War I. His maternal grandfather, Victor Alexander Bruce (1849-1917), 9th Earl of Elgin, was Viceroy of India in 1894-1899, and the family was also related to Florence Nightingale.
Stephen Verney spent his childhood at Claydon House, outside Winslow in Buckinghamshire. He went to school at Harrow and then to Balliol College, Oxford, in 1937 to take a classics degree. When World War II broke out, his brothers joined the armed forces. However, Stephen was a conscientious objector and chose to interrupt his university studies to work with the Quaker-run Friends’ Ambulance Unit in in Norway, Finland, Libya and Syria.
But as the war intensified, the Nazi campaign became demonstrably more evil. An incident in Aleppo that led Verney to the agonising decision to leave the Quakers and join the army, and he became a private in the Royal Army Service Corps. This took him to Egypt, and a chance encounter at a party in Cairo with his former headmaster at Harrow, Paul Vellacott (1891-1954), then the director of political warfare in the Middle East with the Political Warfare Executive (PWE).
Aware that Verney was a classicist who could easily master modern Greek, and whose shortness of stature and often scruffy appearance might enable him to pass for a Greek peasant, Vellacott persuaded Verney to join the PWE.
After initial involvement in black propaganda from Cairo, he was commissioned, and in August 1944 – disguised and accompanied by a German Jewish interpreter – he was sent to Crete by night in a small boat. On landing he was met by a Cretan ‘guardian angel’, who recruited a few others to form a cell under Verney’s leadership. With his expertise in classical Greek, it was an easy step to learn modern Greek, and because he was short and naturally dishevelled, it was said he could pass for a Greek peasant.
Verney and his team operated from a base outside Chania – home to the headquarters of the German commander in Crete. With the assistance of a German sergeant major who was in love with a Cretan woman and a Cretan journalist, he printed and distributed Kreta Post, a subtle propaganda paper, in German and Greek, from a cave outside Chania.
His newssheet created a false impression of the size of the resistance movement and that the occupation forces were cracking under the strain. He wrote frequently to the German commander, General Hans-Georg Benthack (1894-1973), telling him Kapitulation was the only real option. A graffiti campaign with the letter ‘K’ was launched, local boys daubed it in on walls, bridges and sentry boxes, and acid was used to etch it on military vehicles.
Verney and his partisans targeted dissatisfied German soldiers who rejected the Nazi regime, others who had fallen in love with Cretan girls, as well as Austrians, Poles and other nationals who had been forced unwillingly into the German army. He negotiated the release of several partisan prisoners by threatening to castrate ‘his’ German prisoners.
On one occasion, Verney was responsible for the mass desertion of Italians who had been fighting with the German army. After indirect contacts with their colonel, a disguised Verney crept into the camp hospital. The meeting was conducted with Verney stretched out on an operating table, the colonel hunched by him as if hearing his confession, while another officer played the part of a surgeon. Verney negotiated the defection of the whole battalion the next morning, and he arranged their evacuation after confiscating all their weapons.
Benthag formally, but secretly, surrendered to one of Verney’s fellow-officers on 8 May, and that evening the small group of British officers in the area invited the German officers who had been hunting them to a party in a café. A jazz band from the German garrison was pressed into service, and during the festivities Verney and the others disclosed their code names and true identities to their astonished guests, including some of the most detested men in the occupying army. All were immediately taken prisoner.
Following the German surrender of Crete, Verney he set up an exhibition of photographs received from recently liberated concentration camps. These were not believed by the still armed German soldiers and a grenade was left under his car.
Verney’s exploits in Crete were recognised after the war with a military MBE. I sometimes wonder whether anyone at the time knew that the man who played such a crucial role in the liberation of Greece was a direct descendant through his mother of Thomas Bruce (1766-1841), 7th Earl of Elgin, who plundered the Parthenon Marbles or Elgin Marbles from the Parthenon and other structures on the Acropolis of Athens almost a century and a half earlier.
Verney returned to Baliol College in 1946 to complete his degree in Oxford and married his first wife, Priscilla (‘Scilla’) Schwerdt, in 1947. He had been drawn by his wartime experience to ordained ministry, and so trained for the priesthood at Westcott House, Cambridge.
He was ordained deacon by Bishop Russell Barry of Southwell at Southwell Minster in 1950, and priest in 1951. He was a curate at Gedling, then the priest in charge of Saint Francis Clifton, Nottingham and Vicar of Leamington Hastings, often working in tough housing estates.
He moved to the Diocese of Coventry as the diocesan missioner in 1958, as Basil Spence’s new cathedral was rising from the ashes of the old cathedral. Cuthbert Bardsley was an enthusiastic new bishop, putting together a team of gifted clergy to develop a vibrant Christian life for the new cathedral. The slogan, ‘A consecrated building requires a consecrated people’, was adopted for a three-year period of preparation, and Verney was entrusted with the project.
Verney enthused people, combining an organising vision with deep spirituality. The Cross of Nails, formed of nails from timber in the ruined cathedral, was passed from parish to parish and made the focus of prayer vigils. By the time Coventry Cathedral was ready for consecration on 26 May 1962, the diocese was in a state of high expectancy and Verney’s leadership was a vital factor.
He was appointed a residentiary canon at Coventry Cathedral in 1964, and by then had become known as an energetic and informal priest within the radical tradition in the Church of England. The gifted team he was a central part of made the Coventry Cathedral a centre of creativity and theological thinking.
To mark the 50th anniversary of the foundation of the diocese in 1968, he organised an international conference on ‘People and Cities’, celebrating the benefits of urban life and confronting the problems of depersonalisation caused by the scale of modern cities. The participants included planners, philosophers and theologians, and some of the conference’s proposals eventually led to new approaches to urban planning.
In the conference book People and Cities (1969), Verney argued that the future of the Church’s work in cities lay in the formation of small groups, what he called ‘companies of forgiveness’. The book gave rise to the term ‘megalopolis’; it was an early warning about urban conglomeration and exploitation of the natural environment, had a discernable influence on the planners of the new city of Milton Keynes, and was a precursor of the Church of England report Faith in the City (1985).
At the conference, Verney met Fred Blum (1914-1990) who had founded the New Era Centre in 1967. Blum, who had been a Jewish refugee from Nazi Germany, had become a Quaker and was later ordained an Anglican priest. They became close friends and Verney became a trustee of the New Era Centre.
Verney became a residentiary canon at Saint George’s Chapel, Windsor, in 1970, and was responsible for Saint George’s House, the centre for discussions and conferences in Windsor Castle, organising conferences along ‘Chatham House’ rules. But he was challenged by the traditions and protocols at Saint George’s and when he tried to introduce contemporary worship and modern music he faced opposition and a sharp clash of personalities.
He was also a confessor and friend for ordination candidates at Ripon College, Cuddesdon, near Oxford, and became a spiritual adviser to the L’Arche community, working with people with learning difficulties. Its founder, Jean Varnier, shared Verney's passion for Saint John’s Gospel.
Scilla’s death in 1974 affected him profoundly. Three years later, he became the Suffragan Bishop of Repton in the Diocese of Derby and he was consecrated bishop by Archbishop Donald Coggan of Canterbury in Westminster Abbey in 1977.
In 1981, Stephen Verney married Sandra Bailey, a divorcee whose husband was still living. He was the first bishop to marry a divorced woman. The controversy that followed became a catalyst for permanent changes in the Church of England’s policies on divorce.
As a bishop, he cared warmly for his clergy, believing the church was too restrictive and cautious in matters of morality. He accepted relationships of all sorts so long as they were not exploitative, and was vocal on issues such as nuclear disarmament, just war, trade unions and capitalism, opposed capital punishment and advocated moving away from prison as punishment towards restorative justice.
He developed a ministry to articulate ecumenical groups disillusioned by their churches because of their priorities for maintain buildings or doctrinal differences, or for ostracising gay people or people seeking divorce or remarriage. He encouraged the distinction between church and faith, arguing that God is liberating, and established the retreat centre at Sutton Courtenay near Abingdon, Oxfordshire.
After eight years as Bishop of Repton, he retired to Blewbury in Oxfordshire in1985. In retirement, he was saddened by the pressures for narrowness and judgmentalism within the Anglican Communion, and used his linguistic skills for a sharp critique of fundamentalism in all forms.
He died on 9 November 2009 and was survived by Sandra and the children of his first marriage; a son from his second marriage predeceased him.
His book Fire in Coventry (1964) tells how the people of Coventry prepared for a new cathedral after World War II. In his posthumously published Snakes And Ladders (2016), he reflects on his whole life, from his childhood, his army service, his ordination, and his time in Coventry to his time as a bishop. His ideas found expression in three other small books – Into the New Age (1976), Water into Wine (1985) and The Dance of Love (1989) – each a combination of romanticism, vision and insight.
The Gospel reading tomorrow is Saint John’s account of the wedding at Cana (John 2: 1-11), long one of my favourite passages in the Gospels and the reading Charlotte and I chose for the blessing of our weddng in Southwark Cathedral in 2023. This story gave the title to Sttephen Verney’s commentary on Saint John’s Gospel, Water into Wine (1985). His intimate knowledge of Classical Greek served him well as a biblical commentator and the depth of his scholarship made him thoroughly familiar with New Testament Greek, so that he brought out nuances lost so often in English translations.
Water Into Wine is a beautiful book on Saint John’s Gospel, and I have lost many copies over the years, lending them to friends and students, then rummaging again in second-hand bookshops for fresh copies. It was first published in 1985, a year before Steven Verney retired as Bishop of Repton, the year of the miners’ strike and the riots in Handsworth, Brixton and Tottenham, and soon after the Falklands War in 1982 and the intense personal loss of a baby son.
In Water Into Wine, he ties his themes together well, using the Wedding at Cana as the first sign that gives context to the other signs Jesus performed. He draws on the Greek words ἄνω (ano) and κάτω (kato) as ways to understand Saint John’s Gospel. He points out how these two words are different orders, where order is the pattern and the governing principle behind the pattern.
In the order of kato, the ruling principle is me and the pattern is people competing, manipulating and trying to control each other. The order of ano, on the other hand has love as its governing principle and the pattern is one of compassion. The most urgent question confronting each of us, and humanity as a whole, he argues, is how these two orders can be reconciled.
He talks of how ‘the ruling principle is the Spirit of Love’ and of ‘people giving to each other what they really are, and accepting what others are, recognising their differences, and sharing their vulnerability.’
The insight into how Saint John’s Gospel that emerges is one of a carefully constructed narrative in which seemingly trivial details, such as the ‘third day’ in tomorrow’s Gospel reading (see John 2: 1), assume a new significance in the events of Holy Week. Verney includes vignettes from his long and varied life, including his time with the resistance in Crete, to illustrate aspects of the gospel.
He writes that ‘we can see in our world order the terrible consequences of our ego-centricity. We have projected it into our institutions, where it has swollen up into a positive force of evil. We are all imprisoned together, in a system of competing nation states, on the edge of a catastrophe which could destroy all life on our planet.’ He was writing in the 1980s but could have been describing today’s populism and nationalism.
The theme of the wedding feast at Cana at the beginning of Saint John’s Gospel points to another third day and to another marriage in eternity. This new age of eternal life begins on the third day after the death of Jesus at the Resurrection ‘and it continues in our experience.’
A new age begins with the crucifixion and resurrection, and Verney locates the new age in the ‘I AM’ sayings of Jesus and what they reveal of his relationship with God. In Jesus, there is a marriage of heaven and earth – a bringing together of ano and kato, up and down, water and wine – and we are called, by Jesus, to become part of that marriage. The marriage of heaven and earth reflects an even more astonishing union that Verney calls ‘The Dance of Love’.
Jesus does only what he sees the Father doing and the Father reveals to Jesus everything that he is doing. In that dance of love between them, says Jesus, ‘I and the Father are one.’ The Son cries, ‘Abba! Father!’ and the Father cries ‘my beloved Son’, and the love which leaps between them is Holy Spirit – the Spirit of God, God himself, for God is Spirit and God is Love.’
There is a relationship of love at the heart of the Godhead where love is constantly shared and exchanged and we are invited into that relationship of love. Becoming part of the Dance of Love through the marriage of heaven and earth is the new age into which we are born again through the death and resurrection of Jesus. To be born again in this way is to be raised from a consciousness that is really death into a quality of life that is eternal.
