MICHAEL Ashton is good to meet. Maybe not years ago. Maybe then he might just have punched your nose.

These days he is an ordained minister with the Universal Brotherhood of Mankind, and a registered spiritual healer. Those days he was an East End tearaway who joined the Royal Marines and saw action in Aden and Malaya as a welcome escape to trouble at home.

After a brief flirtation with Civvy Street he returned to what he knew best — and enlisted as a mercenary with the American special forces in Vietnam.

Since then he has suffered a number of heart attacks, several divorces and now walks with crutches because of a painful bone condition.

At 55, Michael, who runs the Tavistock Spiritual Church of Awareness, is no conventional minister. Upturned sleeves reveal tatooed arms as he relaxes in open-necked shirt and flamboyant waistcoat.

'It is rare I refer to myself as reverend. I'm known as Mick or Michael. I don't hide behind titles. My dog collar is in a drawer somewhere.'

He says he spent too long in the services to hide behind titles.

'I'm a very down to earth man. "Judge no-one and ye shall not be judged". That's a very hard thing to do. I try to live by that — but I don't always succeed!'

There is no oppressive reverence — just a liberating sense of street wisdom. A reformed rebel-rouser, Michael knows how it is. He is non-judgemental in his practical help. If you have troubles he can relate big time — he has been there, read the book, bought the T-shirt.

The sea change came in Kowlon, Vietnam, after a successful ambush. 'I thought: This is not for me. I couldn't take it anymore. There had got to be more than fighting and killing,' says Michael. By then he had been wounded three times.

'I resigned, went out to Australia and had a walkabout with the Aborigines. If everybody could do that it would change them completely. I lived off the land — lizards, snakes, berries, roots . . .'

At 27 he returned to Britain, took a variety of jobs and drifted across Europe.

'I earned a living doing whatever I could — washing dishes, odd jobs. I was a restless soul. It was the gypsy in me.'

His mother was a gypsy, his father Catholic. As a child he wore calipers on his legs until the age of 11. It was an affliction that, as a boy, helped shape the man.

'I was brought up in the East End of London. You either fought to survive or you went under,' he recalls.

'I was a target and had to prove you were as good as them. The only way you do that is by using your fists and standing your ground. My dad told me to stand up for myself. It was no good coming crying to him.'

Over the years Michael has learned to turn the other cheek.

'I still have a temper — but I have learned to control it. I'm no different to anyone else. But now I tend to fight with words rather than fists.'

He founded the Tavistock Spiritual Church of Awareness four years ago. It has been operating out of its present premises above Bill the Bakers in Pym Street since September.

Registered disabled he says all the work he does is voluntary for the church he describes as 'poor and struggling to pay the rent'. But it is something he enjoys and gets great fulfilment from.

'Back in 1984 I first started feeling the calling. I studied most of the religions. None of them seemed what I was looking for but the Spiritual Church came as close as anything I knew.

'When I had the opportunity to go with the Universal Brotherhood that was what I felt the world should be about. I believe there is a greater energy but I don't think of God as being a "man figure".'

The church's emblem is one of universal harmony — instead of the cross there is the flame of life circled by diverse religious symbols such as Hinduism, Buddism, Christianity and agnosticism.

'We are all climbing the same mountain — the path of life,' he says.

He admits when it comes to ministers he is out of the orthodox mode.

'The Bible has an important place in the world. It is a terrific road map — but that is all it is, a guide. When you come down to brass tacks it is no good me giving a recipe for omelettes because you mightn't be able to read. You have to be shown.'

He argues that the church is in the person — not the building.

'To be a Christian doesn't mean you have to be religious. It just means you treat eveyone with the same respect you would like them to treat you.

'I don't preach about religion. I will give you comfort, understanding and practical advice. I have learnt through what I have come through.'

Michael is also a registered spiritualist healer. He says this is used as complementary to the medical profession, not as an alternative.

'Most illness, when you trace it back, is down to stress. So what we aim to do is help you relax. We don't say we can cure you — but we can help you relax and give you the strength to adjust your life to cope with it.'

He says spiritual healing has a code of conduct and is strictly governed by official bodies including the BMA.

'We cannot diagnose and a doctor is always in charge of any client we see. We do not manipulate anyone or make promises — that is illegal because you are making false claims.'

Michael claims everyone has the potential to heal — all they need is to be caring and compassionate.

'Children are ideal because they have no prejudices and haven't been closed down by society. Most children are loved and give love naturally so they make ideal channels for healing. A child may see a mother cry— it puts its arms around her, and she stops crying . . .'

He would like to think he has made some difference. 'If I made a difference to one person in my life I would have achieved my aim. If it's more than one it's a bonus.'