WAKING with a hangover that leaves me reluctant to excrete lest I void not just my bowels but also my abdomen of vital organs, I reflect on another week in my stewardship of the church.

Nigel Farage has been in the public eye of late, and I am aware he was injured in a light aircraft accident some years ago, and consequently may be reluctant to fly in such a craft again. I sent word to him that as part of the church’s charitable work I run a scheme whereby the victims of trauma may receive therapeutic help.

Mr Farage agreed to meet me at a small, deserted airfield in Sussex. There, I introduced him to a craft I had acquired – it could fit just one passenger but could be operated by remote control. I would be the controller. This would be an exercise in trust, and faith in a man of the cl

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