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"
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