Doughty says he is confident about the future of the Anglican church in Bermuda.

After spending more than 20 years away at school, university, and then as a priest in various English parishes, the 38-year old Bermudian says that, in his view, the church needs to play to its considerable strengths, rather than fret about its weaknesses.

Of his new position at St. Mary's Church he says he will continue the "grand work'' of his predecessor, but with perhaps a "newer'' image for a different generation.

"Archdeacon Dyson was here for 37 years and he had a scholarly, saintly ministry. Now I'm coming in as a `young' man! I love the traditions of the Anglican church, but any church has to grow to remain vital. So I would like to see a mix of tradition and some new insights,'' he explains. "I know that many people like the old form of service, but you can't hark back to the 17th century. New experiences have come along, and that changes things for ever. I believe, for instance, that people should participate more, by saying the prayers and joining in throughout the service. In an ideal world, I would have some of the prayers from the Common Prayer Book but I would also put them within a much more inclusive setting.'' He stresses, too, the importance of music in the church. "I think your hymn choice as a minister, can make -- or kill -- the service. I'd like to keep the olden `goldies' but also introduce some that are a bit livelier! I'm quite sure that worship is supposed to be enjoyable, and people should feel better when they come out than when they go in. People should receive something from going to church and if the minister can't manage that, then they can't complain if people stop going!'' Commenting on other controversial issues that have confronted the Anglican church recently in Bermuda, he says: "We must never lose sight of the fact that, seemingly, all the issues of the universe are focused on this Island and, to a certain extent, on all the parish churches. We have to remember that we are dealing with people and that people are fragile creatures! But,'' he adds, "I think we are healthy in terms of numbers and worship in our congregations and we have a good bunch of clergy here -- we need to try and grow together in understanding and fellowship, and I believe we can do that.

We have a very good Bishop and I'm very glad he is going to be around for a few years more. And we have an exceptional parish priest who, I believe, was made Archdeacon for his prayerfulness, integrity and self-discipline.'' Having been a `visitor' rather than a resident for so many years, Rev. Doughty feels he is in a good position to appreciate the traditions of Bermudian strengths of generosity and hospitality. "One of the great joys of my job is the people, and I never fail to be moved by their goodness and faith. So when it comes to important issues, either connected with the church or on wider issues such as Independence, I would say `Trust the people!'' On another issue that has split the Anglicans in Britain, he says: "I am very much in favour of having women in the priesthood. But,'' he cautions, "there must be proper selection and training of all candidates -- and acceptance by the congregations to whom they minister. I've worked with several women priests who are wonderfully effective. After all, there is basically nothing different in all this -- they are just doing the work of God!'' The road home to Bermuda has been a long one for Andrew Doughty. Asked what prompted him to become a priest, his answer is surprisingly frank.

"I started off at Warwick Academy, but when I moved to Saltus, I was an adolescent, and I must say it wasn't a happy time for me. I wasn't a popular boy -- and to make matters worse, I seemed to stop growing. At that time in my life, it was the choir and fellowship at St. John's Church that kept me alive.

My parents were solid members of the church and the church became the root that I clung to.'' Going off to boarding school -- and an entirely different culture -- in England was also difficult as a 16-year old, "being alone, sleeping on a straw bed in a cubicle with my radio as the only comfort was hard at that age.'' It was then, he says, that he had what he describes as "the dark night of the soul'' experience. "Up until then, I had wanted to be a Spanish teacher, but one morning I woke up knowing that I was going to become an Anglican priest. I didn't have much idea of what was involved, but it just felt right.'' When he came back here on a summer vacation, he had what he feels was a piece of good luck. "John Simpson was the diocesan youth counsellor here at the time, and he was extraordinarily encouraging and helpful. He suggested that I should spend some time with a group of Franciscan friars, based in Dorset. So I spent Holy Week there and was given a tremendous example of spiritual life.'' India's slums opened up Doughty's eyes After obtaining a degree in Divinity from the University of London at King's College, he spent a year as a missionary worker for the Salvation Army in India.

He explains that his paternal grandmother came to Bermuda as a missionary early this century, "and she and her friend who came with her both married Doughty boys, so maybe that's why I've always had this feeling for revivalist hymns and a tremendous respect for the work of the Salvation Army.'' In London, he met a Salvation Army man who arranged for him to go to Calcutta, through the Army. "I had no authority within their structure but I worked with a man called Major Dudley Gardiner who stayed on in India after the war and ran this soup kitchen in the slums. I'd go off with him, feeding people off the back of his landrover and also worked with Mother Teresa's group at the House of the Kalighat, which administered to the dying.'' On a spiritual level, he found this work very satisfying. "In western society, we don't spend a lot of time with the dying -- we're much more uptight about it than your average Indian. I'll never forget going to Benares, a holy city where everybody likes to be cremated on the banks of the Ganges river. There was this overpowering smell of stagnant river water, excrement, and burning bodies. Although it was a primitive sort of place, there was something very holy happening there. I found the whole experience extremely enlightening and I have a great fondness for Hindus and Hinduism.'' In the West, he says that the reluctance to even think about death often leaves everyone unprepared for the event, "a lot of unfinished business'' which leads to a lot of sadness and regret, whereas he believes that funerals should be happy affairs and full of a sense of thanksgiving. "It came to me in India, where there is so much poverty and disease, that we can go at any moment, so there's a lot to be said for seizing the day, living life to the full, in the best way we can, and leaving things tidy!'' On a more jocular note, he observes that, in England, where it is often wet and muddy, "the great nightmare for a vicar is that you're going to slip and fall headlong into the grave!'' Two years were spent in Cambridge at Westcott House Theological College, where Rev. Doughty's thesis was on pastoral care of families of suicide victims. At the end of 1983 he was ordained deacon in Bermuda and then spent three and a half years as a curate in Hampshire. It was there that he met his wife, Rosie, and after ordination, he worked with the Basingstoke ministry, who shared a building with the Roman Catholic church. Admitting it was a "tough'' experience, he comments, "Sadly, the Christian church is not united, but I came away convinced of the need for visible unity.'' By that time, Rev. Doughty was ready to come home, only to be told he needed more experience. "I applied here for a job and was hurt when I was told that,'' he admits. "But my years as vicar of Chilworth turned out to be the happiest of my whole life, and five years later I was invited to apply for St.

Mary's. After some gruelling interviews, I'm happy to say I got the job, and was inducted on Ascension Day!'' Describing his wife as "an extraordinary woman'', he says she is busy trying to adapt to her new life here. "We've only been here three weeks and everything is still a bit strange for her -- as it is for the children (Rebecca, seven, Lawrence, four and one-year old Rachel). But she was prepared to pay the price for me, and for the church, and I'm very grateful for that.''