Three Declarations, One Purpose

Over the past four days, I’ve had the rare pleasure—and, dare I say, the privilege—of attending not one, not two, but three High Sheriff Declarations. Mine in Oxfordshire on Thursday. Pippa’s in Buckinghamshire on Friday. And Julie’s in Gloucestershire today. Each one utterly unique. Each one equally meaningful. And all three leaving me truly delighted.

Mine took place in the grand surroundings of the old Oxford Assizes Court—walls steeped in legal history, the atmosphere thick with formality and tradition. Robes swishing, oaths spoken with deliberate gravity, the High Sheriff’s sword looking rather splendid by my side. It was theatrical, ceremonial, and deeply moving.

Then, a complete contrast: Pippa’s Declaration, hosted in the gleaming new headquarters of the Amersham Scouts. Modern, light-filled, full of young people in uniform. The tone was warm, inclusive, and heartfelt. No less serious for its informality, it was a joyful celebration of community—perfectly in tune with her theme of service through volunteering.

And today, it was Julie’s turn—within the soaring stone of Gloucester Cathedral. Her Declaration was folded into Evensong, carried aloft by choral harmonies and the beauty of liturgy. The ritual weight of it—the organ, the brass, the choir—gave the whole occasion a sacred gravitas that lingered long after the final blessing. It was, quite simply, spine-tingling.

The actual wording of the Declaration was identical for all three of us. Modernised just over a decade ago, the form of words we each spoke traces its roots back through centuries of tradition. Ancient duties, reinterpreted for today—but still infused with history, gravity, and purpose. And yet, the context shaped the mood entirely: formal and rhetorical for me; warm and earnest in Buckinghamshire; richly spiritual in Gloucestershire. The same promise, spoken three ways.

And the music! Oxfordshire’s County Music Service did me proud, with a brass ensemble and a trio of strings—young musicians playing their hearts out. Pippa had her own delightful mix of brass and strings, adding a sense of freshness and hope. Julie’s was something else altogether: full cathedral organ, triumphant brass, and that glorious choir—music that soared through the rafters and stirred the soul.

And through all the differences in setting, tone, and style, one golden thread ran true. All three of us, in our own voices, made the same commitment: to support young people and the volunteers who walk alongside them. That’s the beating heart of this ancient office. And whether in a court, a Scout hut, or a cathedral, it remains as relevant—and as urgent—as ever.