TWO new "communications" bods - they who must work with the media - were licensed last Sunday by the Bishop of Durham. The reading was the bit from St Luke about sending forth lambs amongst wolves.

Doubtless it was coincidental that a survey in that morning's Observer had revealed that just one per cent of young people would completely trust journalists, as against 20 per cent for clergy, and that 77 per cent wouldn't trust us lot so far as they could have thrown the late Mr Robert Maxwell.

Only 40 per cent said they wouldn't trust the clergy at all. The figure for the number of clergy who trust Her Majesty's press corps wasn't recorded, but may inarguably be assessed at zero.

Things could have been worse, of course. The reading could have been of Zacchaeus, the diminutive chief among the publicans, who shinned up a tree in order to get a better view of Christ.

As St Luke's gospel also observes, he could not see Jesus for the press.

The Rev Paul Judson is the new diocesan director of communications and will continue as a part time curate in Sunderland, Canon Lyn Jamieson has moved from chaplaincy at the MetroCentre to be the Bishop's senior chaplain and press officer and also a part time chaplain with the Northumbria Industrial Mission.

They were joined at the licensing by the Rev Caroline Dick, from South Shields, who is to become an adviser in ministry.

All three, remarkably, are married to their parish priests - "vowed to be obedient until death do them part" said the bishop, though such solemnities are no longer strictly necessary, of course. There might, at any rate, have been a story there somewhere.

The 45 minute service of being thrown to the wolves was held in the magnificent chapel at Auckland Castle, where three attendant clerics at different times asked who'd invited the column. Scripturally translated, it meant "What the hell are you doing here?"

Truth to tell - which, of course, we do unfailingly - we'd also been at the previous press officer's licensing in 1998. It was almost the last time we ever spoke to him.

Not least because it began with Thine Be the Glory, Christendom's greatest hymn, Sunday's service was enjoyable, thoughtful and in parts necessarily formal.

The Rt Rev Michael Turnbull, the bishop, reminded us of the "catholic creeds and historic formularies of the Church of England", heard the new post holders swear an oath of allegiance to the Queen and ("in all things lawful and honest") to himself and spoke of himself in the plural.

Like the monarch and certain high and mighty columnists, bishops on these occasions insist upon the royal "we".

Bishop Michael also took the opportunity in a short address to stress that it was "very unlikely" that Auckland Castle would in the future be used for anything other than ecclesiastical purposes - "no matter what you might read in the press."

The new team were given their episcopal deeds of office, though in two cases a long spoon - with which to sup with the inky fingered devil - might also have been expedient.

(A curious phrase, the one about spoon and devil, and more curious yet because Brewer's Dictionary of Phrase and Fable wholly ignores it. The Oxford English Dictionary traces it back to Chaucer's Squire's Tale, chronicled in 1386, though Chaucer wrote of the "feend" instead.)

Afterwards there were refreshments in the throne room, lined with portraits of past bishops - and the admirable present one - and up to the hors d'oeuvres in good intentions. Everyone spoke of being pro-active. None (happily) mentioned spin, lest spin be confused with tangled webs.

Mr Judson tried valiantly to draw a line between regional and national press - "A lot of the national media have got it in for the church, some more than others. I think most clergy are aware of that" - and also conceded that they might not always have been as forthcoming as they might.

"The church doesn't communicate terribly well; I don't think it ever has," he added.

His job was to tell the good news, to co-ordinate crisis management - "making sure we get the right people together in difficult situations" - and to convince others of the importance of being (shall we modishly say) on-message.

"It's a marketing thing. The main challenge is to encourage the church to be better at selling itself."

Canon Jamieson, married to the Rector of Ryton, admitted she'd enjoyed pretty good media relations at the MetroCentre. "I never came across a bad or a terrible reporter," she added, which left a chasm between the lines.

The really good news was that it seemed a promising new beginning and that at least we were talking to one another - or were they just lambs in sheep's clothing, after all?