Don’t Just Do It For Thi Sen

I’m going to begin with a favourite story. One of those I remember being told at primary school, maybe 45 years ago. It has stayed with me all these years. It spoke to my heart and soul back then and it still does today.

Once upon a time, in a remote village, a woman heard a knock on her door. She was surprised to find a traveller on her doorstep, for visitors to her village were few and far between. The traveller had journeyed a long way, and he asked, very politely, for something to eat.

The woman replied sadly, ‘I’m sorry, I have nothing in the house right now.’

The traveller smiled. ‘Not to worry,’ he said. ‘I have a magical soup stone in my bag. If you will let me put it in a pot of boiling water, I’ll make the most delicious soup in the world.’

The woman did not really believe the traveller, but she thought she had nothing to lose, so she lit a fire, filled her largest pot with water, and started to heat it.

While it was warming up she popped next door and whispered to her neighbour about her visitor and his magical soup stone. The neighbour whispered the story to her other neighbours, and by the time the water started to boil the whole village was crowded into the woman’s kitchen.

While everyone stared, the stranger dropped the stone into the water.
Then the stranger tasted a spoonful of soup and smacked his lips and cried out, ‘Ah, delicious!’ He paused for a moment, then added, ‘All it needs is some potatoes.’

‘I have some potatoes back in my kitchen,’ shouted the neighbour and quickly went back to her house. In a few minutes she was back with a huge pile of sliced potatoes. The traveller placed them into the pot.

The traveller tasted again – ‘Ah, marvellous!’ he said. But then he added wistfully, ‘But if only we had some meat, this soup could become a really tasty stew.’

Another villager rushed home to bring the meat that she had been going to use for that night’s meal. The traveller accepted it with gratitude and added it to the pot.

Then he tasted it again: ‘Ah, most excellent. If we just had some vegetables it would be perfect, absolutely perfect.’

One of the neighbours dashed back to her house and returned with a mountain of carrots and onions. These were added and boiled for a few minutes.

Then he tasted again and called out: ‘Seasoning!’ which was quickly handed to him.

The stranger took a final taste and danced with glee. ‘Bowls and spoons for everyone!’ he shouted.

People rushed off to their homes to find bowls and spoons. Some even brought back bread, cheese and fruit.

Then they all sat down to a delicious meal. The traveller ladled out large helpings of his magical soup. Everyone felt happy as they sat down to the very first meal they had shared as a whole village.

In the middle of the meal the stranger slipped quietly away, leaving behind the magical soup stone, which they could use any time they wanted to make the most delicious soup in the world.

It's great story don’t you think. One I never tire of. A story for all times and all people and all situations. I think we could all do with some fo what this stone brought to the people of the village…And let flavour flood out.

John Wesley the father of Methodism lived a life devoted to helping others. He said in relation to service:

Do all the good you can
By all the means you can,
In all the ways you can,
In all the places you can,
At all the times you can,
As long as ever you can

Seems like a simple philosophy to live by. It got me thinking of a slightly different approach, that you may have heard. A kind of caricature of folk who come the part of the world I am from.

“Ear all, see all, say nowt; eyt all, sup all, pay nowt; and if ivver tha does owt fer nowt allus do it fer thissen.” Which roughly translates as “Hear all, see all, say nothing; eat all, drink all, pay nothing; and if ever you do anything for nothing always do it for yourself.”

It suggests that the key is not living with a generous heart. That the way to live in this world is to live purely for yourself. Now despite my heritage I very much more in the John Wesley camp. Generosity has to be at the heart of the matter.

I have experienced a summer of deep contrasts. I have been deeply troubled by some of things I have witnessed, the way that people behave and speak of others. How people can a times be dehumanised. It breaks my heart. In contrast I have known incredible generosity and kindness from so many people on a personal level. If fills my heart with love. We humans are such contradictions, capable of so much generosity and also capable of deep cruelty. We are a mystery.

I believe in our capacity, that we are capable of so much more than we often think we are. This is not easy of course. In some ways it easy to not trust one another or life itself. To just horde and keep things to ourselves, protect what we have. To believe if I give a little it will be taken from me. I will be taken advantage of if I give myself away. That you have to store up your harvest, hoard, keep it purely for thi sen.

What good does this do though? It keeps everyone lonely and fighting and fending for themselves. I think that this is “The state of warre” that Thomas Hobbes spoke of. There is a better a way and begins in generosity. In giving more from our heart than we perhaps expect to get in return, thus encouraging each other to do the same.

It brings to mind the following:

“I have something that I call my Golden Rule. It goes something like this. Do unto others 20% better than you would expect them to do unto you, to correct the subjective error”

I comes from Linus Pauling, who twice won the Nobel prize for Chemistry, one of the greatest scientists of all time and who was a committed Unitarian Universalist. The quotation suggests that the golden rule, do unto others as you would have them do to you, no longer cuts the mustard, because subjective error is involved. And what is subjective error? Well, it is an error caused by bias or prejudice. No one can be truly objective and the problem with treating others as we would like to be treated is that it doesn’t fully take into account the perspective of the other. We do not put ourselves in their shoes, we cannot fully. So instead of treating them as well as we would like to be treated, what we ought to be doing instead is actually treating them better than we would want to be. By doing so we begin to raise one another up. Maybe by doing so we might all begin to treat one another better. And if we keep on adding to one another, we may just raise up our shared humanity and create a better more loving world. Yes, the golden rule is a great starting point and certainly an improvement on an eye for an eye, which itself was actually an improvement on unlimited revenge. All are steps in progression, but perhaps we could go further and I suspect that the twice Nobel prize winner for Chemistry Linus Pauling, may have the answer to raising up our shared humanity.

At the beginning of this Autumn, at this harvest season I am focusing on generosity on those who give and to be encouraged and inspired by them to give just a little bit of myself, in so doing I reckon more will get added to the shared pot and we will all receive so much more. I am necessarily speaking of material things here, more of myself, my humanity.

I am very grateful for the gifts that are this life, for life itself. I have been thinking of this quite often as I have been experiencing grief and loss a lot this year.

The following poem came up as a Facebook memory this week.

“Otherwise” by Jane Kenyon (1947-1995)

I got out of bed
on two strong legs.
It might have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All morning I did
the work I love.
At noon I lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.
I slept in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.

I’ve been thinking of this poem by Jane Kenyon all week. No doubt at its heart is the grief I’ve been experiencing. It’s a poem about that most beautiful of virtues “gratitude”. In much the same vein as “gravy” by Raymond Carver. A poem he wrote in gratitude for the years of recovery he had experienced, the extra life he’d been gifted, written while he knew he was dying of brain cancer. He was grateful for the 10 years, because “it might have been otherwise.” He called it “gravy”.

Jane Kenyon wrote this poem not long before she herself died of leukemia at age 47. The same age that my dad died actually. She wrote the poem in the full knowledge that things would soon be “otherwise” for her. What a beautiful gift to give the world. What a beautiful reminder as I think of lost friends. It could certainly have been otherwise for me and countless others. What incredible generosity of spirit, right to the end, expressed in these poems by jane Kenyon and Raymond Carver.

Here's the Raymond Carver poem also.

“Gravy” by Raymond Carver

August 21st 1988

No other word will do. For that’s what it was. Gravy.
Gravy these past ten years.
Alive, sober, working, loving and
being loved by a good woman. Eleven years
ago he was told he had six months to live
at the rate he was going. And he was going
nowhere but down. So he changed his ways
somehow. He quit drinking! And the rest?
After that it was all gravy, every minute
of it, up to and including when he was told about,
well, some things that were breaking down and
building up inside his head. “Don’t weep for me,”
he said to his friends. “I’m a lucky man.
I’ve had ten years longer than I or anyone
expected. Pure gravy. And don’t forget it.”

Gratitude might be the purest of virtues. At its heart is an acknowledgment of the giftedness of life. I also think that its heart is what we do with what we have been given. Do we hoard it and “Keep it for this sen” or do you create something from it. Of course the greatest gifts are those relational in nature. That we give wholly from our heart to another. Giving from the heart means that all gain from the pot as it encourages others to do the same, much like the stone soup story.

There are several slightly different accounts in the Gospels of Jesus feeding crowds of people. Now there is a real danger of losing the meaning behind these tales by engaging in winding arguments about their factual accuracy; to get hung up on a debate as to whether or not Jesus could feed the thousands of people present with just a few fish and loaves. To get hung up on the factual accuracy is to miss the whole point of the teaching behind the story. Mythological tales are not about fact they are about revealing deeper universal truths.

There is a line in one account from Mark’s gospel (Ch 8 vv 1-9) where we hear the words “They ate and were filled”. Here we find the essence of the story, it is about the encounter that goes on between the disciples and the crowd that by feeding them face to face they are serving them, they are ministering to them. Yes, the crowd’s physical hunger is met, while at the same time everyone’s spiritual hunger is met. Seemingly everyone ate and everyone was filled, abundantly, to overflowing.

From you I receive to you I give, together we share and from this we live.

In the Stone Soup Story”, it is the stone that was the magic ingredient, that encouraged all to give. The key is of course in the relational nature of this. We are all in the pot together and by bringing what we have we enjoy a greater harvest. We see we are all made of the same stuff and by bringing what we have, we all get our fill of the share.

It is easy to look at our world and despair and give up and say “what’s the point? Everyone is out for “thi sen”. If I go out of my way to help another, they’ll just keep on taking advantage and what will I ever get back in return? “If tha gunna do owt for nowt, do fir thee sen”

But you know me, you know I believe there is another way. The other way is the Linus Pauling way, the Golden Rule plus 20%; I see this in the relational aspects of gratitude, in giving from what has been freely gifted us. As Raymond Carver and Jane Kenyon did with those poems written whilst their lives were ending, poems expressing the gratitude of being gifted this life.

This seems like a simple way to live. At its core is this life affirming principle that in spite of a great deal of evidence to the contrary faith, hope and love do in fact still remain. You see these ripples touch everybody both the giver and receiver and all who are eventually touched by them; both the giver and receiver are transformed by the experience; both giver and receiver are blessed abundantly.

I’d like you do something for me, “for thee sen”, for your world over this Autumn. I’d like you to remember all those times in your life when someone has gone out of their way to help you with no expectation of anything in return; whether they have helped you materially, intellectually, emotionally, or spirituality. I’d like you re-feel these occasions and to meditate on them and to come up with ways that you can give as generously. Not exactly the same and not to pay back. Give from your heart and maybe give 20% more. Give from what has been gifted to you and do so generously.

We can change our world today; it begins with thee and me. If you can’t do it for me, do it for thee sen.

I’d like to end this with this lovely tale by David J. Wolpe

There is a marvelous story of a man who once stood before God, his heart breaking from the pain and injustice in the world. "Dear God." he cried out, "look at all the suffering, the anguish and distress in your world. Why don't you send help?" God responded,"I did send help. I sent you." When we tell our children that story, we must tell them that each one of them was sent to help repair the broken world-and that it is not the task of an instant or of a year, but of a lifetime.

Please find below a video devotion based on the material in this "Blogspot"

Openness and Humility: Hearts, Eyes, Minds and Hands

Once upon a time there were six blind men. They lived in a town in India. They thought they were very clever. One day an elephant came into the town. The blind men did not know what an elephant looked like but they could smell it and they could hear it. 'What is this animal like?' they said. Each man touched a different part of the elephant.

The first man touched the elephant's body. It felt hard, big and wide. 'An elephant is like a wall,' he said.

The second man touched one of the elephant's tusks. It felt smooth and hard and sharp. 'An elephant is like a spear,' he said.

The third man touched the elephant's trunk. It felt long and thin and wiggly. 'An elephant is like a snake,' he said.

The fourth man touched one of the legs. It felt thick and rough and hard and round. 'An elephant is like a tree,' he said.

The fifth man touched one of the elephant's ears. It felt thin and it moved. 'An elephant is like a fan,' he said.

The sixth man touched the elephant's tail. It felt long and thin and strong. 'An elephant is like a rope,' he said.

The men argued. It's like a wall! No, it isn't! It's like a spear! No it isn't! It's like a snake! They did not agree. The king had been watching and listening to the men. 'You are not very clever. You only touched part of the elephant. You did not feel the whole animal. An elephant is not like a wall or a spear or a snake, or a tree or a fan or a rope.'

The men left the town still arguing. A little girl heard them and said 'Each of you is right but you are all wrong … but I know what you are talking about!'

Maybe if they learned to listen to each other, been open to another then together they might just have learned the truth of what an elephant is.

I received many lovely gifts for my birthday. Some arrived through the letter box , others given to me directly a few were left on my doorstep. I was given a wonderful book on Ralph Waldo Emerson written by a former member of Dunham Road Chapel Alexander Ireland, the father of the composer John Ireland. Alexander Ireland and Emerson were great friends. As Emerson said “The only way to have friends is to be one”, inspired by their lifelong friends. On my birthdays I often think that he greatest gifts I have in my life are my friends, the folk I get to walk the journey of life with. One friend sent me a lovely WattsApp message which included the following that opened my heart.

“When asked about the lens through which she chooses to see the world, Quaker songwriter Carrie Newcomer shares her practice of seeing with the eyes of love:

My life as a songwriter and a poet has asked me to consider how I look at the world on a daily, moment-to-moment kind of way…. Our first job is to pay attention and then to take in what we see with a certain kind of spirit and for me, a certain kind of love. I think it’s a practice and the more you practice it, the more you see; the more you see, the more you see with love….

The big things I love: I love my husband. I love my daughter. I love justice. I love mercy…. I love so many big things, but my life is also filled every day with all these glorious little loves…. There can be great meaning and great love in small things. I love blueberries and I love the smell of lilacs and I love how little kids hold each other’s hands when they go across the street….

In looking at the small moment and the small thing through love, it’s not always completely joyous…. You take it all. When you decide I’m going to be here, I’m going to be present, and I’m going to be present with love, you take it all.”

Thank you, Carrie, and thank you my friend for sending me this on my birthday.

It is not always easy taking it all, but there is no other way I have discovered. You have to look at it all with eyes wide open and heart, mind and soul too and then respond with hands open to all that is.

Like Carrie, I know it is often the little things that bring the greatest blessings in our lives. I continue on day by day. I share my blessing every morning upon awakening with friends on social media. I have a little quiet time, in prayer and then I reflect and share. I was thinking of the little blessings as I reflected on my birthday gifts and greetings, including a few friends, with mixed ability singing happy birthday on voice notes. As I did I looked down at my little blessing Molly who I collected 3 years ago. As you know I had gone for one of her sisters, but she insisted on coming home with me. A day of deep sorrow as it was also the day that our youngest cousin Cheryl died. Molly kept my heart open in that time of grief, as she does every day. I need to keep it open as sometimes I am tempted to close it to all the pain, anger and suffering abound, those things that trouble me deeply day by day.

I had a beautiful experience of open hearted conversation on Wednesday at the Urmston “Common Search for Meaning” Group. We were exploring and sharing about memory. It was a beautiful conversation and lifted several folk present out of their worries and anxieties as they connected with each other and the moment they were living it. We spoke with open minds and hearts. One thing that came up in the conversation was how folk can remember things so differently. How we experience life oh so differently. How vital it is to remain open to the experiences of others. A bit like the blind men and the elephant, we only get the full picture if we listen to one another, if we listen with the ears of heart to one another’s experience and somewhere in there we might discover something that resembles the truth. This is not always easy though. It is vital to remain open, or as open as possible and to remain humble too, especially when it comes to truth claims.

If I have learnt anything about spiritual living I have learnt that the key is openness; the key to spiritual living is to live with open hearts, open minds, open eyes and open hands. These four are spiritual living in practice, which I have come to believe is the essence religion. Not creed like religion but truly living breathing practising religion. A religion, a lived spiritually, that not only brings us to life, but it enables us to live truly alive and awake in this our shared world.

Unitarian minister James Vila Blake (1842-1925) wrote the following covenant, "Love is the spirit of this church, and service its law. This is our great covenant: To dwell together in peace, To seek the truth in love, And to help one another." I think in many ways this covenant articulates the essence of what it means to come together in love as a worshipping community. It has been adopted by many Unitarian Universalist and Free Christian communities. It expresses beautifully what it means to live in an open, living breathing spiritual community, what free religion ought to be about.

Openness is at the heart of my understanding of our Unitarian tradition. I have come to believe the essence of openness is humility, especially when it comes to truth claims.

Openness is very much a doing word. It’s not so much that you are open, more that you live openly. To do so religiously, is to be open in four ways. To live with open hands, open eyes, open hearts and open minds. To live faithfully is to do so with open eyes, an open heart and an open mind and so doing our hands will open so as to accept one another and to serve one another, this life and the living breathing spirit that connects all life, what I name God.

Now to practise the first three open mind, open heart and open eyes so as to enable us to live with open hands is no easy task. In fact to master them is virtually impossible. The key is to begin and to continue; the key is intentional practice. To live with open eyes is to see the world as is truly is; to see reality as it really is, warts and all and in its beauty spots too. To live with open eyes is to not turn away from the suffering present in life but also to pay attention to life’s beauty too, to notice those little things. To live with open eyes is to see the reality of the whole of life. This is not easy, so often we are tempted to turn away. To live fully connected lives, we need to live with open eyes, to see life with all its blessings and curses. This is my morning practice of sharing the little things I notice in life.

To live with an open mind is to be able to search for truth and meaning while maintaining an awareness of the tension between certitude and curiosity. It is the balance of being receptive to what is new and foreign, while at the same time holding onto what is most dear. It is to try to know while in the presence of the unknown and unknowable. This can make others feel uncomfortable and they may try to close an open mind or put their things in it. This does not mean that we do not discern that we don’t come to conclusions, quite the opposite actually. It is vital to come to conclusions, so that one can act in the world, it’s just that after the decision the openness must be maintained, it is never too late to change our minds. So, keep your minds open but please do be careful what you put in it.

The key to living with a loving and open heart is live with all our senses, including our sixth sense, our soul open to all the wonders and mystery of life. There are though dangers to this. Living with an open heart exposes us to pain and fear. To truly live with an open heart is to allow ourselves to be touched in the most tender of places. This can hurt sometimes. Remember Cupids arrow had to first of all pierce the flesh before it could penetrate the heart, love hurts. To live with an open heart is to follow the great commandment, it is Agape. It is to love others, no matter who they are what they have done, where they have come from, it is to love without condition. It is to follow the Golden Rule. It is to love our neighbour as we would wish to be loved ourselves. This requires love and compassion for ourselves of course, which can at times be the greatest challenge. It is to feel a deep connection with all that is, all that has been and all that will ever be. It is to recognise that in order to feel this connection requires that we share of ourselves. To love is to practice forgiveness, over and over again. Practicing living with a loving heart is to live willing to be transformed by what we encounter in our daily lives.

By living with these three open eyes, open minds and open hearts we can then practice living with open hands. Hands that welcome, hands that humbly accept our interconnectedness, humble hands and hands that are willing to do what they can do to serve, to play their part in the world.

This means being willing to practice committing and recommitting to use my hands, my abilities, in the service of life. To take responsibility for attempting to create the kin-dom of love right here right now. Living with open hands is about being a loving presence, regardless of the world we inhabit. Our open eyes allow us to recognise where our hands can be of use in the world, if our minds and our hearts are open.

Open hands though are not just about what we do, they are also about connection and perhaps more importantly humility. It is humility that is the key to living openly.

Now humility is a word that is often misunderstood. To be humble is to be at home in our true humanity, to be grounded in our own reality and shared humanity. The key to humility is to recognise that we are a part of something larger than our singular selves.

Humility is not about being meek and mild and bowing and scraping, it is not about being self-deprecating or denigrating. Too often humility is seen in this way, particularly from a religious perspective, as an excuse for suffering and or meekness. To me this is not true humility; true humility is about living with open hands and doing what we can in the world, we can only do this if we live with open hearts, open minds and open eyes and by recognising our common humanity.

I believe that Dag Hammarskjold, the former Secretary General of the United Nations, expressed the true meaning of humility when he said:

"Humility is just as much the opposite of self-abasement as it is self-exaltation. To be humble is not to make comparisons. Secure in its reality, the self is neither better nor worse, bigger nor smaller, than anything else in the universe. It is-nothing, yet at the same time one with everything."

Humility is an interesting word, when understood correctly. It has its roots in the word “humus” which means earth. It also shares the same linguistic root as human and humanity. To be humble is to be grounded in this life; to be humble is to recognise our honest place in the world and life in general, whilst recognising that life itself does not revolve around us. Humility is the core of my chosen Unitarian faith. I believe that we are a humble faith. Our tradition is open and accepting, we welcome diversity, we honour one another’s points of view. Are these not by their very nature acts of humility? And in doing so are we not accepting that each of us have limits to our own individual perspectives; that we need to be open to one another in order to see new and deeper truths; that we cannot make sense of anything alone. This is free religion in its essence, this coming together and experiencing more than we could have imagined alone, by coming together, in love. We honour and acknowledge that on our own we cannot know everything and that by being open to others who may see and understand things differently we are challenged to expand our understandings, doing so in love and respect and honour these differences. Humility is about rejoicing in the challenge that others who see things differently can reveal to us and therefore expand our understanding.

The key is to live openly and of course the key to openness is humility. No one lives apart from anyone else we are all interdependent. Also, none of us knows everything, we all see through the glass dimly. There is limitlessness in openness. Who knows how much we can truly change and learn to love if we just stay open, in our hearts and minds and eyes. Who knows what we can do with our loving hands if we live with truly open eyes, open hearts and open minds.

The key is to live with open eyes, open hearts open minds and open hands; the key is to live with true humility, to see that we are grounded in our shared humanity; the key is to see that we are a part of something far greater than ourselves and that through recognising this we will know the love present in life and begin to bring that love alive, right here right now.

Every day is a day when we can bear witness to a Power Greater than ourselves. We do this when we love one another with open hands, when we see the world with truly open eyes, when we live with minds that are truly open and heart open to the love waiting to enter and to be poured out onto our world that really needs it.

I believe it is our task to live truly open lives. This is real spiritual living, this is true religions. I believe it is our task to bring love alive, through our openness. It is our task to allow God to incarnate through our lives. To do so we need to live with open hands and love this our shared world.

Please find below a video devotion based on the material in this "Blogspot"

Clues: The Thread You Follow Through The Labyrinth of Life

“Labyrinth” by Kayla Parker

Walk the maze
within your heart: guide your steps into its questioning curves.
This labyrinth is a puzzle leading you deeper into your own truths.
Listen in the twists and turns.
Listen in the openness within all searching.
Listen: a wisdom within you calls to a wisdom beyond you and in that dialogue lies peace.

It has been quite a week; it’s been a busy week. I have been very much involved right in the stream of life. Whilst I’ve been swimming in the stream I have felt as though the ears of my ears and have been wide awake and the eyes of my eyes side open. It has felt as if the soul of life has been communicating with my life, not loudly, but gently and persistently.

I have conducted two funerals in the chapel this week, both were of friends for many years. One of whom became a much loved member of the Dunham Road congregation, Liz. Both funerals had moments, unexpected ones, that have awakened something in me and others, speaking from that deeper soul. On Monday at Jon’s funeral those in attendance were invited to speak after the eulogy. Several did beautifully about his life and what he had meant to them. Then a man came forward, who no one else knew. He looked quite distressed and began to speak. He took out his phone and read a picture of a letter he had written to Jon over 20 years before. It was an apology he had never been able to give for things that had happened when they were kids at school. You could almost feel something move as he spoke. The man left after the service and no one really had chance to speak to him. I hope he finds peace. It spoke powerfully to me of the potential for healing and redemption in our lives no matter how far down the line it might be. It spoke powerfully to me of faith. It was an incredible experience to witness.

Liz’s funeral service had a powerful impact too. There were even a couple of moments when it felt like the God of humour was playing tricks on us all. I was deeply moved by what so many people told me after the service. How they said I really knew Liz. They also told me how much she loved the community and had healed so much with us. She will be greatly missed, something I felt strongly all day. Following the service there was a private intimate committal at Dunham Massey. It ended with joy and humour and the song “Hi Ho Silver Lining”, it seemed perfect. As we stepped out into the sunshine that had just appeared I noticed a faint outline of a rainbow in the skyline. It had been raining for some time and now the sun was out, perfect timing.

The next morning I attended my usual Thursday mediation. Liz herself was one of the four people who attend the very first one, along with myself and two people who attended her funeral. The first person to share after the silence began by saying he had been driving in that morning listening to “Talk Sport” when suddenly they began to play “Hi Ho Silver Linning”, wow what a coincidence I thought. Then he shared about being out with his family walking in the hills , how the kids were complaining of the weather walking etc, of a giant seagull pooing on his head and all kinds of things going wrong and then they reached the summit together, the sun came out and there in front of them was a beautiful rainbow and this sense of gratitude that they could share this moment together just overcame him.

I thought to myself “Hi ho silver lining” indeed.

I was sat with a couple of folk who had been at Liz’s funeral and remembered a conversation I had had with them. One was trying to describe someone we all knew, but he couldn’t remember his name. He was doing a terrible job of it. I remarked come on John, give us a clue. Someone said he would be useless at charades. He was certainly no Una Stubbs or Lionel Blair. He also gave us a glimpse of what life might be like if we are privileged to live long enough and end up in a retirement home. There was joy and laughter shared and we remembered dear old friends we have known along the way of life.

Life truly does speak and those within it do too. There are clues everywhere. All we have to do is pay attention and keep on sharing what we have with one another. We sail this ship together.

Clues have been on my mind of late. This is due in no small part to a recent etymological discovery. I recently learnt of origins of the word “Clue”. It was an amazing discovery. A true adventure, involving Greek Mythology.

The word “clue,” as in “a piece of evidence used as a guide in solving a mystery or a problem,” originally means “a ball of thread,” spelled “clew.” (CLEW). Now this raises a question, what on earth has thread got to do with clues? Well, the answer is the story of Ariadne, Theseus, the labyrinth and the Minotaur.

In Greek mythology the Minotaur is a terrifying monster, half human and half bull, born on the island of Crete. Now to keep the Minatour from hurting people, the king of the island makes Daedalus, an inventor and architect, create a labyrinth that the Minotaur will never be able to escape from.

One day the kings son is killed in Athens. The king is so incensed that he declares war on. The Athenians are defeated and as punishment they are forced to send seven girls and seven boys to Crete every year., where they were forced into the labyrinth, where the Minotaur devours them.

One year Theseus, the son of the king of Athens, decides to go to Crete in order to kill the Minotaur and stop the sacrifices. When Theseus arrives in Crete he meets Ariadne, the king’s daughter, and she falls in love with him. Theseus tells Ariadne that he intends to kill the Minotaur and that he will marry her if she helps him. This when Ariadne gives him a ball of thread, called a “clew,” which Daedalus had given her, and she tells Theseus that if he keeps hold of the thread he will find his way back out of the labyrinth with it. He ties one end of the thread to the door of the labyrinth, manages to find and kill the Minotaur deep inside the labyrinth, and then follows the thread back out.

This though doesn’t necessarily answer how the thread came to mean “Clue”. Well the word “clew” always meant both “a ball of thread” and “something that guides a person out of a difficult or mysterious situation.” The spelling changed from “clew” to the modern “clue,” in the early 17th century and thus the word we sue today was born and became a clue we might follow, in order to find an answer.

If we follow the clues we will be led out the labyrinth to safety no matter how lost we may feel at the time. I feel it is the same in life, certainly my life. It does not mean we won’t face misfortune and even disaster from time to time. That said if we keep hold of the thread and take care of the thread we will find our way back home.

When I think of clues etc and those who paid attention and followed them I think of the great detectives of fiction. I have always loved detective stories. My favourite tv programs tend to involve mysteries and detection. As I child I loved Agatha Christie. When relaxing of an evening I love nothing more than watching detective series, new and old. I’m just as happy watching “Murder She Wrote” as I am watching any of the high tech modern series. I’m just as happy watching Bazil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes as I would be watching NCIS or “The Miss Fisher Murder Mysteries”. There is something in the searching for clues and answers and coming to conclusions that I suspect I love in these books and films and activities. I know I am not alone.

The great detectives unearthed the clues by paying attention, particularly to the people around them. Perhaps the most subtle and seemingly innocent was Miss Marple. She had developed a simple down to earth understanding of people, during her time growing up the village of St. Mary Mead. She saw through attentive eyes and had an ability to connect the details and stories together and relate them to people she had known in a her long life. She would hear the details of a murder and say something like, “That reminds me of poor Mr or Mrs so and so …” And how this little problem that they had tried or had caused would be related to the murder. Miss Marple paid attention to people, she paid attention to the world around her, connecting it all together. To me this is the key to spiritual living, to pay attention, to make connections and then to put them into practical application. The key is not to merely ask questions and search for answers but to piece it together and live them as a conclusion in life. The key is to do as Rilke suggested “To live the questions” and in so doing you might just live your way into the answers. This is done in our very human and real lives, by paying attention to one another and by paying attention to life. This is how we follow the clues in the labyrinth of life.

This brings to mind a favourite poem “Love at First Sight” by Wislawa Szyborska

"Love at First Sight" by Wislawa Szymborska's

They're both convinced
that a sudden passion joined them.
Such certainty is beautiful,
but uncertainty is more beautiful still.

Since they'd never met before, they're sure
that there'd been nothing between them.
But what's the word from the streets,
staircases, hallways —
perhaps they've passed by each other a
million times?

I want to ask them
if they don't remember —
a moment face to face
in some revolving door?
perhaps a "sorry" muttered in a crowd?
a curt "wrong number" caught in the receiver? —
but I know the answer.
No, they don't remember.
They'd be amazed to hear
that Chance has been toying with them
now for years.

Not quite ready yet
to become their Destiny,
it pushed them close, drove them apart,
it barred their path,
stifling a laugh,
and then leaped aside.

There were signs and signals,
even if they couldn't read them yet.
Perhaps, three years ago
or just last Tuesday
a certain leaf fluttered
from one shoulder to another?
Something was dropped and then picked up.
Who knows, maybe the ball that vanished
into childhood's thicket?

There were doorknobs and doorbells
where one touch had covered another
beforehand.
Suitcases, checked and standing side by side.
One night, perhaps, the same dream,
grown hazy by morning.

Every beginning
is only a sequel, after all,
and the book of events
is always open halfway through.

This beautiful poem “Love at first sight”, by Wislawa Szymborska, describes two lovers engaged in a display of public affection. I get the impression that the author is convinced that some guiding force is at work in their interaction. What begins as “Chance”, then becomes “Destiny” which “pushed them close, drove them apart”. The poem suggests that these lives were scripted long ago in a “book of events”, which cannot be altered, try as we might. The poem suggests that the lovers have passed by one another many times before, but were never aware or ready to make that first point of contact. That there were signs along the way and that one day this encounter would happen, but it was more than mere chance, something else was at work offering itself to both of them. It just took this moment for it to happen.

In many ways this is how I see life these days. So many possibilities are going on all around us. Some good, others not so good. So many joys, tragedies, triumphs, failures, frustrations, crises, endless possibilities good and bad. Life offers itself to us, but so often we close ourselves off from it. One thing I have noticed is that as I have allowed life itself to guide me I have become more open I am to life itself and the more connected I have felt, the more aware I have become of experiencing meaning and making meaning filled decisions. As I have done so I experienced a greater sense of belonging to myself, those people I share my life with and this world in which we all live and breathe and share our being.

The more I have lived this way the more I have noticed the meaningful coincidences in life. Some say this is how it is meant to be, I am not wholly convinced of this, I prefer to see it as this how it could be if I allow myself to follow the rhythm of life. If I do I notice the so called coincidences, the synchronicities of life. If I follow the thread, If I follow the “clew”, If I follow the clues everyway. All I have to do is pay attention.

To follow the clues is to truly live the questions and thus therefore one day hopefully live our way into the answers. This requires us to pay attention, to pay attention to everyone and then relate it our own experiences, like Miss Marple did. To find the answers she paid attention to life, to other people and to her own intuition. She lived her way into the answers by merely paying attention. She followed the clues, the thread.

I was paying attention on Thursday morning sitting in meditationI heard the language of the heart touch me deeply as people spoke and yet at the same time I could hear clearly all the sounds of life outside. I could hear the traffic, I could hear the birds singing and I could hear the wind, and as I did the words shared penetrated me more deeply. As I listened I found the clues and began to live my way in answers. And what is the answer you might ask? Well, the answer is to pay attention, pay attention to everything. In so doing you will begin to live your way into the answers. All you have to do is pay attention to clues, to follow the thread.

I’m going to end this morning with a favourite poem By William Stafford “The Way It Is”. It is about the thread that runs through life, that will guide us home if we follow the Mythos of Theseus and always hold on to it.

“The Way It Is” by William Stafford

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.

Please find below a video devotion based on the material in this "blogspot"

Moby Dick: To Resent or Rejoice

I recently returned from Summer School, at Great Hucklow. This year marked its 30th anniversary. It went by the title of “Finding My Religion: Being Unitarian in the 21st Century”. Over 50 of us gathered in person for theme talks, engagement groups and variety of other activities. Many others joined on-line for some of these. It was wonderful to be a part of, as it has been since I first attended over 15 years ago.

I was very involved this year, as it seems I am in so many areas of my Unitarian life. I co-led an engagement group and “Theme Talk” with Arek Maleki a wonderfully gifted minister serving the Leicester Unitarians. Our “Engagement group was titled “The Words We Speak Become the House We Live In”, words attributed to the Sufi mystic Hafiz. We actually built a house. I will speak more about this in the coming weeks, exploring some of the themes. Our theme talk was well received as we explored our journeys in our own unique and yet complimentary styles. We gained a nickname “Tweedledum and Tweedledee” from one of our group, who told us that all that we lacked were the caps. This was a bit rude to Arek who is 20 years younger than me. Interestingly one of the tutors at Luther King House would often call Arek Danny when he studied there. The tutor had taught me when I trained for the ministry. I also had a ballad written in my honour by Nick Maurice who was the musician of the week and came up with the “Tweedledum and Tweedledee” comment. The ballad was beautiful if slightly embarrassing to hear. Oh, and returned with a wonderful gift. A giant knitted whale. This was created by our own Ruby. I was slightly obsessed in my hunt for the whale and paid more than I intended too.

Birthday’s and anniversaries have been on my mind. I recently attended the Golden Wedding Anniversary of Bill and Morag Darlison. Bill is one of my ministerial heroes, I have loved being in their company many times over the years. I was travelling with a sense of sadness as I had the feeling that this might be the last time I would see Bill. When I arrived he greeted me warmly and then told me he was pleased I had come as he had a request. He told me that when his time comes he would like me to conduct his funeral. He told me it as all arranged and that I would be given some space in its creation. I of course agreed and he told me he would email the details. I then shared in a wonderful lunch with a speech from Bill. It was both moving and hilarious. There was not a hint of self pity, just deep gratitude and love for his beautiful wife Morag. As he said she is still the most beautiful woman in Pontefract, before adding that his friend said, “no Bill the most beautiful in England”. Morag is a native of Scotland and moved to nurse in Pontefract over 50 years ago.

Bill had been given a terminal cancer diagnosis over 20 years ago and recovered and there is no cancer currently. Treatment ended a few weeks ago and he looks well. I will of course do as requested, but it may not be in the immediate future, God willing.

As I was driving to Bill’s I witnessed something both dangerous and disturbing on the motorway, it didn’t ruin the day, but it has stayed with me. A large four-by four entered the motorway in a rather erratic manner. It almost collided with a motorcyclist who had to take evasive action. The motorcyclist pulled up next to the 4 x 4 and began gesturing the driver and hurling abuse. This was returned by the driver. What followed was the two of them pulling up and driving past each other in a very dangerous way. It could have easily caused an accident and was deeply dangerous to them and all around. I pulled back and let them pull away I thought to myself what a dangerous pursuit. It brought images of Ahab and Moby Dick and power of anger and resentment to my homiletic consciousness.

Summer School was very special this year. I have shared in beautiful, if somewhat eccentric company and heard the most wonderful of words in the last couple of weeks. This is in complete and utter contrast to some of things I have witnessed and heard in the world around me. Things that break my heart and disturb me greatly. I am reminded of those words by Hafiz “The words we speak become the house we live in.” I wish to build a house of love and not one of resentment and hatred. Resentment is oh so destructive.

Resentment is a negative emotion that is re-felt and replayed, over and over again until at times it becomes all consuming. At its most destructive it becomes an all-consuming repetitive rage. Frederick Nietzsche said of it, “nothing on earth consumes a man more completely than the passion of resentment.”

When I look at my life there have been examples, some serious and others ridiculous, that have consumed me for long periods of time. I know I am not unique in this, it happens to us all, things from our past can so easily control and even poison the life we are attempting to live today.

I know from truly looking at my own life and honestly acknowledging all that has happened to me and all that I have caused to happen that many of these resentments I used to carry were really just justifications for the mess I was in at the time. By blaming others for my troubles, the things they had done, real or imagined, I could somehow raise myself above them and place myself on a pedestal. The problem of course was that I just remained lost in this sea of anger and my life went nowhere other than become increasingly lost. I was stuck on a ship, created from my own ill feeling, heading for trouble and unable to change direction. The bitter feelings were so all consuming that I could not hear the voices that were offering a different directions and my senses were closed to the joy present in the life all around me. What a waste!

Yes, resentment is such a waste of life, as it so quickly becomes consuming. It can take over your whole life. You will find many examples of this in literature. The classic perhaps being Captain Ahab. In Herman Melville’s Moby Dick Ahab is consumed by his rage against the “white whale” “Moby Dick” who in a previous voyage had destroyed his ship and bitten off his leg. So Ahab vowing revenge sets out on a voyage to hunt down the “white whale”. He becomes so consumed by his rage and need for revenge that as time goes by he no longer sees “Moby Dick” merely as the perpetrator of an evil act but as the “devil incarnate”, as the sum and substance of all evil that occurs in our lives.

This is near perfectly illustrated in the following passage from “Moby Dick”

“Small reason was there to doubt, then, that ever since that almost fatal encounter, Ahab had cherished a wild vindictiveness against the whale, all the more fell for that in his frantic morbidness he at last came to identify with him, not only all his bodily woes, but all his intellectual and spiritual exasperations. The White Whale swam before him as the monomaniac incarnation of all those malicious agencies which some deep men feel eating in them, till they are left living on with half a heart and half a lung. That intangible malignity which has been from the beginning; to whose dominion even the modern Christians ascribe one-half of the worlds; which the ancient Ophites of the east reverenced in their statue devil;- Ahab did not fall down and worship it like them; but deliriously transferring its idea to the abhorred white whale, he pitted himself, all mutilated, against it. All that most maddens and torments; all that stirs up the lees of things; all truth with malice in it; all that cracks the sinews and cakes the brain; all the subtle demonisms of life and thought; all evil, to crazy Ahab, were visibly personified, and made practically assailable in Moby Dick. He piled upon the whale's white hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole race from Adam down; and then, as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst his hot heart's shell upon it.”

Ahab grapples with the “white whale” until the end. He hurls his final harpoon and cries out “to the last I grapple with thee; from hell’s heart I stab at thee; for hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee.”

Words that a hundred or so years later echoed through the galaxies as they were uttered by Khan in the Star Trek movie "The Wrath of Khan"  

Now I know this is only a work of fiction. A great work of fiction by the way and one written by a man who had Unitarian links. I understand that Herman Melville worshipped at the “All Souls” in New York. There is something in this work of fiction that speaks to me and I believe to all of us when we look at the power of rage and the destructive nature of deep rooted resentment. We only need to look at the world we live in today to see example of this all around us.

Have you ever been consumed by such a rage?

The problem of course is that once you become consumed by such intensely powerful emotions it is very difficult to change direction. This is especially true if you believe the resentment is justified. Now while the anger may well be justified I am certain that the destruction it carries with it is not. Like the motorcyclist reaction on the M62 and the four by four drivers response to that. It could have easily led to a serious accident and loss of life, all because of the rage of two men, who believed their response was justified.

Resentment can close down all our senses to such an extent that we fail to heed all the warning signs around us and end up crashed against the rocks all alone. We may not end up with Ahab’s fate but we can easily find ourselves shipwrecked or lost at sea.

This reminds me of story I was once told of an old ship captain, in the days before modern communication, who one night saw the beacon of another ship headed straight for him. He asked his signal man to warn them and so he blinked to the other ship “Change your course 10 degrees south.” Moments later the reply blinked back “change your course 10 degrees north” to which the captain ordered the signal man to answer “I am captain change your course south.” To which the reply came back "I am seaman first class. Change your course north." This infuriated the captain, so he ordered his signal man to reply "I am a battleship. Change course south." To which almost instantaneously came the response, "I am a lighthouse. Change course north.”

If only we could just listen and perhaps change course for the good of our own and the health of those who share our lives. It’s not so easy though is it, especially when we believe that we are right and get a sense of superiority by this feeling of being right. If only we could see the damage that this does to ourselves and those around us, but alas once a person is consumed by rage, this is hard to do. Even if you yourself are a battleship headed towards a lighthouse.

Resentment is a destructive force.

So what is the alternative? Well it begins with the words we speak, the way we act towards others and the way we see others. For this will create the house, the world we live in. It begins with seeing the good in others, to see ourselves in others and not see them as enemy as other. Maybe it begins with seeing what is beautiful and joy filled in our lives and that of others. It is so easy to get stuck in what is wrong and to therefore fail to see what is good and rejoice in it. This is such a terrible state for our minds to get in. As the poet Milton said “The mind is its own place and in itself can make a Hell of Heaven, a Heaven of Hell.”

Perhaps the key is to change course and not sail into the rocks or to be sunk to the depths by the white whale. The key I suspect is to change our minds. The key is to rejoice, rather than resent.

How does this begin you may well ask?

Well I believe that it begins by learning ways to celebrate our lives; it begins by learning to savour every breath no matter what is dealt to us. This begins by learning to offer that unceasing prayer “thank you”. Something I witnessed powerfully at Bill and Morag’s Golden Wedding anniversary. It begins by following the advice of the Hopi elders who suggested that you should “Gather yourselves…See who is in the water with you and celebrate. All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.”

Maybe this is how we begin to rejoice, by looking at those in the water with us and learning to rejoice in who they are.

Pema Chodron claims that “Rejoicing in the good fortune of others is a practise that can help us when we feel emotionally shut down and unable to connect with others. Rejoicing generates good will. The next time you go out into the world, you might try this practice: directing your attention to people- in their cars, on the sidewalk, talking on their cell phones – just wish for them all to be happy and well.”

Maybe this is a way to set ourselves free from the anger and resentful feelings that leave us all lost in the sea of life. Maybe this is one way to help us change direction and not leave us shipwrecked against the rocks. Maybe this is one way to begin to rejoice in life. Maybe it can begin by not so much looking for the things to be grateful for in our lives, but instead to offer gratitude for the good fortune of others who we find ourselves in the water with. Maybe it begins by wishing good fortune for the people we meet.

I have found that this really works as it begins to fill us with joy because when our minds are thinking of others good fortune it is difficult for us to be thinking of anything else. Why not give it a go? You never know you might just find that if you do your minds might just become freed from the shackles of resentments, and then you might just be able to learn to live and rejoice in the beautiful gift that is this day.

“The words we speak become the house we live in.” I wish to build a house of love and not one of resentment and hatred. The choice is our ways, which way are we going to turn today?

Please find below a video devotion based on the material in this "blogspot"