Stories are never just stories. We become the stories that we tell ourselves.

“The Two Tribes” by Mark Nepo

“In the beginning, when the first humans came across each other, it went two ways. Upon seeing someone different, the more fearful one said, "You're different. Go away." The other, upon seeing someone not like him, said, "You're different. Come, teach me what I don't know." While our reasoning has grown more complicated throughout the centuries, it's essentially the same. "Go away" or "Come, teach me."

Since the beginning, the two tribes have had their philosophies. The "Go away" tribe has always believed that human beings, by their nature, are self-serving and untrustworthy, in need of control. The "Go away" tribe believes in stringent laws and constraints, both moral and legal, to ensure that people don't run amuck. The "Come, teach me" tribe believes that human beings, by their nature, are kind and trustworthy. The "Come, teach me" tribe believes in empowering laws that cultivate freedom, to ensure that people actualize their web of gifts through relationship.

The truth is that we are born into both tribes and can move from one to the other, depending on the level of our fear. The times of genocide throughout history mark the extreme, malignant manifestation of the "Go away" tribe. Distorted by fear, it's not enough just to say, "Go away." For unbridled fear turns to anger, which normalized turns into prejudice and hate. Such deep, embedded fear dictates that we need to make sure that those who are different can't return. And so, we exile them, jail them, hurt them, and in extremely ugly cases, persecute and kill them.

However, the times of enlightenment throughout history mark the extreme manifestation of the "Come, teach me" tribe, which through learning and wonder leads to eras of compassion and cooperation. Empowered by trust, curiosity turns into interdependence and a belief that we are more together than alone. When allowed to blossom, we realize that we need each other and our diversity of gifts to make life whole.”

“Stories are never just stories. We become the stories that we tell ourselves.”

A traveller was riding through the countryside. He was heading to the city for a wedding. He had been riding for some time when he realised he had become lost. He noticed a man sauntering along, happy in his own thoughts. The traveller thought he had better approach him and ask for directions. Unfortunately, he was unaware that the man he was approaching was Nasruddin. There may be trouble ahead…

The man approached Nasruddin and asked, "What is the best way to get to the city.”

Nasruddin looked up at the man and then looked ahead, before looking backwards. He looked up at the sky, before looking down once more and contemplated for some time. He then looked up at the man again before looking ahead, only slightly to the right this time. He then looked back at the man and began to speak: "Well, if I were going there, I wouldn't start from here."

Whenever we set out on a journey, it matters where we start from, where our journey begins. Yes, it isn’t the journey, but it will impact on how we travel.

We never step into anything without a past; we carry the past with us to some degree or another. How we journey in life will be influenced by our starting point, by what we are taught either subliminally or deliberately. How we see ourselves, one another, and or the world, will impact on how we journey and how we meet life. It matters how we greet the world and how the world greets us. Where we begin from will have a bearing on the journey, on how we live each day. Are we come teach me people or go away people? It matters how we greet one another and or greet life.

The other day the following post appeared in my Facebook Feed. It is by social historian I follow “Rutger Bregman” Published on 20th February 2026

The BBC just released a new adaptation of Lord of the Flies, the classic novel by William Golding. It's beautifully made, but it's still telling the wrong story.

A few years ago, I went looking for the *real* Lord of the Flies. I wanted to know: has it ever actually happened? Have kids ever been shipwrecked on a deserted island?

It took me a year of research, but I found it. In 1965, six boys from a boarding school in Tonga stole a boat, got caught in a storm, and drifted for eight days without food or water. They washed up on 'Ata, a remote, uninhabited island in the Pacific. They stayed there for 15 months, and what happened on that island was the exact opposite of William Golding's novel.

These boys set up a small commune. They built a food garden, stored rainwater in hollowed-out tree trunks, created a gym with improvised weights, and built a badminton court. One of them, Stephen (who would later become an engineer) managed to start a fire using two sticks. They kept it burning the entire time.

Of course they fought too. But when they argued, they had a rule: go to opposite ends of the island, cool down, then come back and apologize. As one of them told me: ‘That's how we stayed friends.’

Back home, everyone assumed that the boys – Luke, Stephen, Sione, David, Kolo and Mano — were dead. When they were finally discovered by an Australian captain named Peter Warner, he radioed their names to Tonga. After twenty minutes, a tearful response came back: ‘You found them! These boys have been given up for dead. Funerals have been held. If it's them, this is a miracle!’

Peter commissioned a new ship, hired all six boys as his crew, and named the boat the Ata, after the island where he found them. They remained friends for the rest of their lives – Peter and Mano even became soulmates. I tracked them down, and it became one of the central chapters of my book Humankind.

Here's what struck me most: William Golding (the author of Lord of the Flies) was a troubled man, an alcoholic who once said ‘I have always understood the Nazis, because I am of that sort by nature.’ I think he was projecting his own darkness onto children. And we turned it into a lesson about human nature that we teach to millions of kids around the world.

I think the real lesson is the opposite. When real children found themselves alone on a real island, they didn't descend into savagery. They cooperated. They took care of each other. They survived.

I'm not saying that the Tongan castaways were representative of all kids everywhere. But I am saying that every kid who has to read or watch the fictional Lord of the Flies also deserves to know what actually happened when it played out in real life.

Stories are never just stories. We become the stories that we tell ourselves.

I remember when I first learnt of this account back in 2020 at the beginning of lockdown it had a profound effect on me, as did his book “Humankind”. In the true story of the “Lord of Flies” when school boys were lost, stranded, on a desert island they did not descend into chaos and destruction. What they did do was take care of one another, in fact they found ways to not only survive, but to function as a community, until they were rescued. Why are we not taught this story? I didn’t learn about it in school. Why instead are we only taught the story of chaos and destruction, of distrust and greed. Why are we so carefully taught that we are by our nature wrong?

In the chapter “A New Realism” Rutger Bregman wrote in his book “Human Kind: A Hopeful History”

“Scenario:

An airplane makes an emergency landing, breaks into three parts, the cabin fills with smoke, everyone inside realises that they need to get out as soon as they can. Which scenario sounds more likely?

PLANET A: the passengers turn to their neighbours to ask if they’re ok, those needing assistance are helped out of the plane first, people are willing to risk their own lives to help random strangers.

PLANET B: everyone is left to fend for themselves, there is a mad rush for the exit, panic breaks out, there’s lots of pushing and shoving, the children/elderly/disabled are trampled by the mad crowd as they rush out

97% of people estimate that we live on Planet B, that mass panic is the most likely. But it has been found in almost every case that we live on Planet A – we are kind and we help each other where we can. If you watch the Titanic movie it looks like panic, but if you ask people who were actually there they say that the evacuation was actually quite orderly. Or think of September 11 – as the twin towers burned, thousands of people calmly descended the emergency stairs, even though their lives were in immediate danger. They stepped aside for firefighters, they let the injured be carried ahead of them. People would actually stop and say “no on, you go first” or “please take my place” – there was no madness.

There is a persistent myth that by our very nature humans are selfish, aggressive and quick to panic. Dutch biologist Frans de Waal calls this “veneer theory”, the notion that civilisation is nothing but a thin veneer that could crack under the slightest pressure. But in actual fact, in times of crisis (when bombs are being dropped or flood waters are rising), then we humans become our best selves. We may have a good side and a bad side, but there is considerable scientific evidence showing that in times of crisis we overwhelmingly turn to our good side.”

Much like Nepo highlights in the story I shared earlier we are both types of people “The come teach me people” and the “go away people”. The problem is that we seem to believe that generally speaking we are “Go Away People” by nature and so is everyone else. We believe we are the fiction of William Goulding rather than the Tongan schoolboys who created structures to take care of each other. They knew that their lives depended upon them cooperating together on the remote island of “Ata”.

I believe we have both aspects, both potentials within us, “The come teach me” and the “go away”, we inhabit both planet A and planet B. That the aspect that comes to prominence is the one we develop. It matters what stories we tell about ourselves and one another, as the stories we tell becomes the life we will lead and the world we live in. This is the place where we will begin every journey, every single day of our lives.

This is beautifully illustrated in the following story:

An old man said to his grandson, “there’s a fight going on inside me, a terrible fight between two wolves. One is evil – angry, greedy, jealous, arrogant and cowardly. The other is good – peaceful, loving, modest, generous, honest, and trustworthy. These two wolves are fighting within you too… and every other person on the planet”

After a moment the boy asks “which wolf will win?”.

The old man smiles: “The One You Feed”.

It matters the stories that we tell of ourselves and one another. We have a natural reticence to speak of the good we do. In fact, those who do the most, prefer to do so anonymously. We do not follow the directive of Jesus from the “Sermon on the Mount”, we hide our light it would seem. The story we tell is not to speak of the good we do. Not everyone of course and actually those who do boast about their achievements can often overstate them. I don’t feel comfortable singing my praises or when others sing them to me. I know how uncomfortable I felt the other week when Jane Brophy the Mayor of Trafford did so publicly. This has been on my mind as have written and delivered eulogies for some wonderful folk recently. We seem to feel comfortable singing the praises of folk after they have died, but not while they are still alive.

How often have I heard people say when they do good things that they often disguise them behind some kind of selfish motive. Why do we tell these stories about ourselves, why do we make ourselves sound worse than we are? Why do we promote negative stories about ourselves? Why are we so uncomfortable with praise? I have seen examples only this week of people apologising for the good that they have done. It is charming and lovely and I recognise it in myself. That said it serves no one and actually leads to us telling negative stories about ourselves.

As Rutger Bregman noted in “Humankind”

“Unfortunately, this reticence works like a nocebo. When you disguise yourself as an egoist, you reinforce other people’s cynical assumptions about human nature. Worse by cloaking your good deeds, you place them in quarantine, where they can’t serve as an example for others. And that’s a shame, because Homo puppy’s secret superpower is that we’re so great at copying one another.”

Bregman suggest that we “come out” about our generosity as an example to others, to encourage them to do the same. To counteract the narrative of so-called human selfishness. That it is our nature to learn, to almost copy and mimic others, we like to fit in. therefore if we teach a frightening and scary and untrustworthy nature then this will be mimicked in others, thus creating a nocebo effect.

So maybe it is time to come out of the closet about who we are, to stop hiding our light. To stop suppressing our humanity. To recognise the instincts that are a part of our humanity. Yes, we are capable of hideous and heinous things. We only have to pick up any daily newspaper to see evidence of this, but this is not all that we are. We only hear the bad news about everything. We need to become the good news, the news the world needs to hear. Maybe it is time to start telling a different story about ourselves and one another.

“Stories are never just stories. We become the stories that we tell ourselves.”

I was recently talking to a young man. He is someone I have got to know over the last couple of years. It has been wonderful to see him grow as a person. That said he is like so many folk, he has a pretty cynical view of life and the state of the world. He tells me his generation is the hopeless one; he told me he had little or no hope for the world. I spoke with him and pointed out that humanity as been through much worse times that now and we have not destroyed ourselves. I told him that while I may not be a “cockeyed optimist” I do live in and by hope. I believe in our capacity. Yes, we are living through troubled times, but hope will carry us through, if we live by it, if it grows from our hearts. If we tell ourselves that all hope is not lost, that this can be the story we will live by and the road we can follow. I left him with the following quotation by Vaclav Havel

“Either we have hope within us or we don’t; it is a dimension of the soul, and it’s not dependent on some observation of the world. Hope is an orientation of the spirit, an orientation of the heart; it transcends the world that is immediately experienced, and is anchored somewhere beyond the horizons.

Hope in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well, or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously heading for success, but rather an ability to work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance to succeed.

Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism.

It is not the conviction, that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out. It is Hope, above all, which gives the strength to live and continually try new things.”

I know how vital it is that hope is the starting point of each and every journey. It is what makes my heart sing.

“Stories are never just stories. We become the stories that we tell ourselves.”

The other week I shared some of the story of Oscar Hammerstein II, at the interfaith entertainment evening. I spoke of his Universalism, a faith whose story is one of Hope; that this Hope inspired his life and work; that he wrote songs of love and hope and social change. Here’s a classic from “South Pacific”

"A Cockeyed Optimist" Lyrics

When the sky is a bright canary yellow
I forget ev’ry cloud I’ve ever seen—
So they call me a cockeyed optimist,
Immature and incurably green!

I have heard people rant and rave and bellow
That we’re done and we might as well be dead—
But I’m only a cockeyed optimist,
And I can’t get it into my head.

I hear the human race
Is falling on its face
And hasn’t very far to go,
But ev’ry whip-poor-will
Is selling me a bill
And telling me it just ain’t so!

I could say life is just a bowl of Jell-O
And appear more intelligent and smart,
But I’m stuck like a dope
With a thing called hope,
And I can’t get it out of my heart!
Not this heart!

Now someone who is considered a “cockeyed optimist” is often mocked as naive, Pollyanna-ish and maybe they are. Maybe optimism in the sense of expectation is unrealistic, that said so is cynicism in the sense that this is how something will work out, that it is inevitable. I wouldn’t start any journey from that place. That said if you step out in hope in a belief in the potential, in our capacity then you might step out on a very different journey. This is Hope rather than optimism.

“Stories are never just stories. We become the stories that we tell ourselves.”

Now of course the story we often tell of ourselves, even if it is done so subliminally, is one of distrust, that there is something wrong with our nature. I was recently talking with a friend who has a real problem with the word “sin” when he hears the word his toes curl. This is due to the story he was told growing up, that he was a sinner to the core. His problem is with the idea of “Original Sin”, the story that we are wrong by nature and can only be saved by a certain kind of faith. I do not believe in “Original Sin”, that said I do believe in “Sin” of a sort, in the sense of falling short of what I am capable of being. I am as human as the next person and I fall short. That said I reject any idea that I am permanently flawed in nature, that any of us are. Well, the rational part of me rejects it. Sadly, there is a part of me where this idea that there is something wrong in me, still exist somewhere beneath my rational mind. Why because this is the story I and others keep telling about ourselves and others. It is the story at the heart of the fictional “Lord of the Flies” and it is at the heart of many other stories we tell about ourselves, and yet it isn’t the whole story is it, and it certainly isn’t the story of the “The Real Lord of the Flies”. It is not the story of the boys on the island of Eta.

“Stories are never just stories. We become the stories that we tell ourselves.”

It seems we are being carefully taught that we are fundamentally and irredeemably flawed. Maybe it is time we started telling another story. The story of Hope. Maybe it is time to stop hiding the light of what we are capable of being. Maybe one day they will make a big budget movie about the 6 Tongan Boys who created a community and took care of each other on the island of “Eta”, who created a civilised society and not only survived, but thrived.

Where and how are you going to begin your journey. It matters you know, it really does. For “Stories are never just stories. We become the stories that we tell ourselves.”

I am going to end this morning with a bit more from South Pacific, another from Oscar Hammerstein II

"You’ve Got to Be Carefully Taught"

You’ve got to be taught to hate and fear,
You’ve got to be taught from year to year,
It’s got to be drummed in your dear little ear—
You’ve got to be carefully taught!

You’ve got to be taught to be afraid
Of people whose eyes are oddly made,
And people whose skin is a different shade—
You’ve got to be carefully taught.

You’ve got to be taught before it’s too late,
Before you are six or seven or eight,
To hate all the people your relatives hate—
You’ve got to be carefully taught!
You’ve got to be carefully taught!

“Stories are never just stories. We become the stories that we tell ourselves.”

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

Not giving things up, simply giving to and having a good time

Last week I attended two interfaith events. It was wonderful to come together with people from different traditions all working with the same heart and spirit. We may not think or believe alike, but we certainly loved alike. The first event was an entertainment evening. We enjoyed offerings from different traditions; a variety of songs, storytelling, poetry and dance. It was wonderful. We all reflected on the troubles in our world and we all shared joy, blessing and gifts for all to share. I shared songs of Rogers and Hammerstein while telling the story of Hammerstein and how his Universalism had shaped his song writing and his life.

On Sunday afternoon I attended the Mayor of Trafford’s multi-faith Civic Service, organised by Jane Brophy. It was held at Altrincham Baptist Church, where Jane is a member. Several folk from Dunham Road were in attendance. Gwyneth Roper played a huge role in making sure the event ran smoothly and Peter Flower and myself participated. Peter stepped in to play the keyboard at the last minute. Again, this was a wonderful occasion, full of spirit and culture. Wonderful to see mostly community cohesion in these divisive times. Jane insisted that I led the singing which I dutifully did. I do not need much encouragement. Towards the end of the service Jane mentioned that she wanted to share a secret about me to the people gathered. I wondered what on earth she would say, I was a little worried. She teased at it a couple of times and then publicly thanked me for something I had done over 10 years ago. Her son Edwin was very poorly at the time and she said that I had visited him in in the Moorside Unit at Trafford General every week. Edwin had grown up in the Sunday school at Dunham Road and ever since I have been minister there we have always got on well. This has not always been easy has he has one or two challenges. I have to say it brought some emotion in me, which I manged to contain. It is not something I have thought of much since. I was simply doing what I could do and what I thought was right at the time. As I left a woman approached me to talk of a friend of hers named Sheila, who had died in recent times. Sheila would attend both congregations, both services and other activities. She got a lot from her time with us, although the woman said her priest discouraged this. The woman wanted me to know how much she thought of me and welcome she received from both congregations. What a lovely gift to freely offer and in keeping with the spirit of the occasion.

Later that evening I noticed that the video promoting the “OYEZ” share option had been released. “OYEZ” is an art collective that has taken over the running of the town hall in Altrincham. They are doing amazing creative and community work there. The choir I sing with rehearses there. We had recorded a song for the launch of the share option and appeared in the video, as do other local figures, including Barbara Thackray. The whole project is another wonderful example of people giving what they have, from their heart for good of not only themselves, but their community. It gave me marvelous sense of well being. It is also hilariously funny. While I may well be a singer, I am not a dancer.

Here is the video 

Last week I saw another example of people giving what they have from their hearts. I have mentioned my two writer friends in the past. Well one of them has just written his first one person play. It is about to be performed in London. Last week it was being rehearsed in the schoolrooms at Dunham Road and by the weekend it will be performed. It is the first new thing he has written and produced in some time and my other friend, who owns Ronnie the dog who Molly loves to play with is directing it. It is oh so wonderful to see him getting back into what his heart desires, giving what his has from what he has been given.

A week last Saturday Molly, myself and a few friends who are singletons went for a walk together to Dunham Massey, on what was Valentines Day. During the walk a couple of my friends began to talk about the things they are planning to give up for Lent. They were talking of luxury items such as sugary drinks and chocolate. Things they will struggle with no doubt. I did wonder though if this is really what Lent is about. Is it really just about giving up luxury items, or is there more too it? Maybe it is better to think about what we can give to life, from our capacity and perhaps giving up things that get in the way of doing so. What that might be is probably different for each of us.

So, I’ve made a decision. This Lenten season I’m going to attempt to let a different spirit live through me. To see what I can give from my heart and soul and attempt to let go of the things that get in the way of that. To not give up things, but to give what I can and give up what blocks me from doing so. It is so easy to live in cynicism and say well what’s the point, but who does that serve, certainly not my soul. I’m going to live by the examples around me and do what I can. I’m going to live in what I consider the solution is as opposed to what I see as the problem. I am going to give love, even if it’s in small ways. I am going to do so while recognising how difficult that is, even to my nearest and dearest. That said I do know that by doing so my outer world is bound to improve and my inner world will become healed, even if it is just small ways.

I will invoking the spirit of Derek Brown in my activities, whose funeral I conducted this week. To live by his example with people. His warmth, his care, his welcome and his good humour too. These were the natural gifts that he had lived by, in so doing he touched so many lives. He was a man dedicated to his community in Urmston. This was proved by the outpouring of love this Thursday.

Last Sunday Peter spoke of the many forms of love, not just the romantic kind that is celebrated on Valentines Day. The day before on the walk with my friends we were practising friendship or “philia” love. Now the kind of love I want to talk about giving and giving up whatever gets in it’s way is Agape Love. Some call this “Spiritual” Love. It is the kind of love that the faith traditions speak of, although sadly too often fail to practice. It is what everyone was invoking at the interfaith events I participating in; it is was fuelled the songs of Rogers and Hammerstein and it is what I witnessed in Derek’s life. This is a kind of love that is none exclusive, it is open to all, it is supposed to have no boundaries; instead it builds bridges between the walls we create around ourselves.

Agape is the love that Jesus spoke of in the Gospels. He commanded his followers to “Love one another as I have loved you.” He is not talking about something soft and mushy here though, please do not be fooled. When he preaches that we should love our enemies he is commenting on the commandment in Leviticus “You must love your neighbour as yourself.” When Jesus spoke of love he was talking about an action that put someone or something else at the centre of their life, rather than themselves; he is talking about yielding for the good of all, instead of self-interest.

This message is of course not unique to the Judeo-Christian tradition it is the essence of all the “Great Faiths”. It would appear that selfishness and self-centredness has been the root of so many of humanities troubles throughout our history, therefore it is hardly surprising that the idea of yielding for the good of all is at the core of the great faiths; that putting something other than our selfish needs at the centre of what we do is vital to human survival. The great Chinese guide to statecraft “The Daodejing”, authored by Laozi made similar claims. “The only person who is fit to rule is the man who has overcome the habit of selfishness.”

To quote the Dao itself

“The reason there is great affliction is that I have a self.
If I had no self, what affliction would I have?
Therefore to one who honours the world as his self
The world may be entrusted,
And to one who loves the world as one’s self
The world may be consigned.”

Agape was the foundation of Rev Dr Martin Luther King’s ministry, the great champion of civil rights in 1950’s and 60’s America. He saw it as an abundant overflowing love that seeks nothing in return, that is open to all and rejects self interest. It is not sentimental and has nothing to do with whether we like a person or not. It is the kind of love that recognises our common humanity and reveres the other as our self; it recognises the sacred mystery in everyone. It is this that forms the beloved community that he spoke of. You could call it the Kingdom of God, the commonwealth of love, the kin-dom of Love, or simply “Fellowship”.

Although Agape is not soft, mushy or sentimental it is still a condition of the heart, it is a way of being that encompasses all aspects of our humanity; head and heart as well as mind, body and spirit. It is about how we are and how we act. In his sermon titled “Love in action” Dr King preached that “one day we will learn that the heart can never be totally right if the head is totally wrong...only through bringing together head and heart, intelligence and goodness – shall man rise to a fulfilment of his human nature.”

It is wrong to believe that Dr King ministry focused purely on the injustices of society external to him. He also talked of healing our inner violence. None violent action, motivated by love, that he adapted from the teachings of Gandhi was about committing not only to non-violent resistance externally but also internally. Both he and Gandhi knew how vital it was that we transformed our inner lives first before we looked to the world. Gandhi named this Satyagraha (soul-force). They both knew that in order to transform society for the better, they first had to develop themselves spiritually.

Why was this? Well they knew that if a person did not heal the violence within themselves that when they did overcome the injustice they were experiencing they may well end up replacing it with something just as destructive. Just look at the revolutions of the past two hundred years. They began as a protest against tyranny and yet in many cases they replaced the former tyranny with something worse. We must all be wary of the “dark side of the force”, of how corrupting power and self-righteousness can be. Human history is littered with examples of this.

Love is a way of being and this can be tough at times; it is not sentimental and or mushy and it is something I will be focusing on this Lenten season. It always amazes me how something like Lent, which in my view is about self-sacrifice, about giving of self for others, has somehow become so self-centred. As I was reminded by my conversation with my friends, too often people give up things for Lent, but they seemingly do so for their own good. People often given up certain food stuffs, for their own vanity, they do it for themselves. Is this what Lent is about? Well, it doesn’t seem to be the right focus to me. Surely, it’s actually about Agape, about self-giving love, about loving all without prejudice, about recognising the “inherent worth and dignity of all” Isn’t this the example that Jesus gave to humanity, in the same way that Gandhi and Dr King did, they gave themselves wholeheartedly for others. And they were murdered for it. That said their message survived their physical deaths, it lives on today. This loving spirit is timeless, it is immortal, but it needs a body, it needs to be embodied.

So, I’ve made a decision. This Lenten season I’m going to attempt to let this spirit live through my body; this Lent I’m going to focus on giving, instead of giving things up. I’m also going to see if I can give up what gets in the way of me doing so. This Lenten season I’m going to see what I can give to life instead of what I can give up; this Lenten season I’m going to live in what I consider the solution is as opposed to what I see as the problem. I am going to give love, even if it’s in small ways. I am going to do so while recognising how difficult that is, even to my nearest and dearest. That said I do know that by doing so my outer world is bound to improve and my inner world will begin to heal.

I’m also going to have a good time doing so. I’m going to sing more, dance more run and scream and shout more. I’m also going to encourage others to do the same. To live as much as I can from the heart. I’m going to follow the example of those who sang the joy of living in all its mystery. I will invoke the example of Derek Brown and let his spirit live on.

My question to you is what are you going to give to the world from yourself this season? What are going to let go of, that gets in the way of you doing so.

I will leave you with that one.

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

Tell me your story and I will tell you mine: Good speech, Godsibb and Gossip

Last Monday 2^nd February was “Groundhog Day”. Sorry, but it is bad news, “Punxsutawney Phil” saw his shadow. This means 6 more weeks of winter. Do not worry this is Pennsylvania, so it may not apply to we in the North West of England. We shall see.

Last Monday morning was a bit like Groundhog Day the movie as I went through many usual Monday activities. There was a slight twist as I met with a couple who are getting married at Dunham Road. We talked through the service, which is fairly traditional with one or two twists, just to make it personal. It was a wonderful conversation, getting to know these two wonderful people, there was much humour shared. I also went through one or two or my usual Monday rituals. After catching up with emails and posting my blog etc I took Molly out into Altrincham and through to the park. On the way Molly insisted on calling into Café Nero. She loves the place and obviously knows I need a coffee before walking round the park. I had a fascinating conversation with the manager their Keiran. He is a breeder of exotic fish, a growing business for him. He told me he has 1,000 fish tanks now. He also tried to play a trick on me telling me they were having a minutes silence. I know he is a joker so I didn’t fall for it. I told him that we do not have a minutes silence for “Groundhog Day”. We then talked about “Groundhog Day”. He expressed a hope that winter would soon be over.

We then headed to the park and saw the same people I often see when I go there. We nod and say hello and sometimes talk. I got into a conversation with a woman who is there every day and who I rarely get into a conversation with. Whenever we do it is as if we are speaking for the first time, symptomatic of something I am growing familiar with. She told me about her family, her son and grandchildren, all high achievers. We talked about her dog who is the same breed and as my sister’s dog Brian. She then started calling Molly Brian and then she wandered off after I had given her dog and Molly a treat. By the way we also talked about the weather and the desire for Spring. I told her it was “Groundhog Day” , at which point she looked at me like I was mad. As we continued to wander I got chatting to a man and his dog. We always talk when we meet one another. He has a grand dog named Ruby who is a labradoodle. We chatted about our dogs and the weather. I then said it is “Groundhog Day” and we will find out if winter is ending or whether we have six more weeks of it. I then said but it doesn’t really apply as we don’t live in Pennsylvania. He told me his parents used to live there and the winters were never too bad, except for a couple of weeks. They now live in Quebec he told me where the winters are far more extreme. He then showed me a conversation he had with his mother talking about the weather. He asked me if I was always there at this time and I said I come at varied times. I chuckled as I walked off and thought well maybe it isn’t Groundhog Day.

On the way home I bumped into a couple of friends. Both of whom told me about concerns for friends who are being treated for cancer. One seems hopeful the other not so much. I have had several such conversations all week long. Some of which sound like a long winter ahead and others showing signs of spring.

I have been thinking of conversations all week long. Conversations and how our lives are made up of the stories we tell. The stories we tell about ourselves and our lives. On Wednesday I conducted the funeral of Jim Hill. The Hill family have been a part of the Queens Road congregation for several generations. Afterwards I talked with folk who I have known for many years now. We shared our stories and our concerns I also saw several children whose Child blessing service I have conducted. I thought of their stories and their familys stories. I also remembered Alison, Jim’s sister telling the story, on a Zoom service during Covid, when we were joined by Rev Peter Godfrey who had been minister to the congregation in 1950’s and 60’s. I will never forget the delight in her voice and on her face as she saw Peter and reminded him that she was the first child he had Baptised. This is one of those stories I love to tell. The circle of life and of love.

Another friend told me of her ex-partner had being diagnosed with cancer this week. This brought me back to the formation story that led me into ministry. A story of sorrow that I have to tell when folk ask me why I became a minister. He and his family have been in my heart and prayers ever since.

The stories of live. Stories of love, of life and of death. The circle of life.

Our lives are made up of all kinds of stories, that tell us who we are. We connect with one another through the telling of these stories. We all have our stories and we love to hear stories. I was reminded this week of a character I created during “lockdown” Cap’N Dan. Everyday I told a classic tale and recorded it on camera. Many people watched the stories, both young and old. The stories helped people through a difficult time, both children and adults. A friend told me that the stories both entertained and fed both him and his children. His children would probably be embarrassed now, as they are 5 or 6 years older. That said these stories are a part of their life. They helped to both feed and connect them and others.

Our lives are made up of stories.

The author Phillip Pulman has said of stories “After nourishment, shelter and companionship, stories are the thing we need most in the world.” I would suggest that in some ways stories give us nourishment, shelter and companionship in a none material sense.

Anthony DeMello wrote...

The Master gave his teaching in parables and stories, which his disciples listened to with pleasure — and occasional frustration, for they longed for something deeper.

The Master was unmoved. To all their objections he would say, "You have yet to understand, my dears, that the shortest distance between a human being and Truth is a story."

We all have our stories and no doubt those that know us have stories to tell about us. It’s interesting that when a person tells a story about you their perception and memory will reveal something of how they see you and know you. It reveals as much about the storyteller as the person they are telling the story about.

I have been thinking of stories, the ones we share when we meet and speak with each other. Whether they be strangers, close friends and or folk you see from time to time. I wonder what stories they will tell of us.

It matters the stories we tell of one another. We all speak of one another we share our tales. It matters the tales that we tell. The words we share. The way we gossip about one another and life.

Gossip is one of those words that has changed in meaning over time. There can be good gossip and bad gossip. It not so much the way we speak about one another but it’s intent, it’s meaning. It matters how we speak about others and how we listen to what others say to us about people. Malicious gossip can be very destructive. That said sharing concern for others and singing their praises can add to the loving creation.

The word “gossip” is derived from words for God and sibling. It originally meant “akin to God”. “God-Sibb” describing a person you were connected to in spiritual kinship, either a sponsor or God parent. When we share stories of one another in such a spirit we are connecting together in shared love and concern. I have shared a week of being engaged mostly in “God-Sibb”, although not always I have occasionally spoken unskilfully, not from this spirit.

Like a lot of words sadly the word gossip only has negative connotations. In fact, it means the exact opposite to its original meaning. It seems more akin to separation than connection. Gossip as we understand it these days is often deeply destructive.

The way we speak with and of one another can connect us, but it can also separate us; words are incredibly powerful things. Words can begin to bring deep healing or can be deeply destructive. What matters is the intention behind them. What seems to matter is the condition of our heart and soul as we speak what we must speak. It is the meaning behind the words that seems to matter the most.

Words are powerful they can be either destructive or creative. Perhaps an example of “words” creative power comes at the beginning of John’s Gospel and the following lines:

'In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God.
The same was in the beginning with God.
All things were made by him; and without him was not anything made that was made.'

According to John the spoken word can literally create life, in fact all life. Now of course in the original Greek, which these opening words were written in, the word for “Word” was “Logos”, which roughly translated actually does not mean merely a “word,” but also “speech,” “principle,” “meaning” or “thought.” In Greek philosophy, it is also referred to as Divine Reason or the Mind of God. So, it could mean God speaking life into being, linking it to the first verses from Genesis when God is said to have breathed life into being, remembering always that he saw this creation as “Good”. So “word” here means, in my view at least, that life is the meaning coming into being and Jesus is the example of this in human form. An example we can all aspire to. For we can all incarnate Love, we can all be a part of the Divine creation. It begins in our words and how we say these words for they are an expression of our meaning. It also begins in how we listen to others. Our ability for each to share, an open loving invitation. This is Divine activity. This space between us is the Kin-dom of Love. Conversation can be a Divine activity; the sharing of stories can be Divine activity, if engaged in in a loving spirit.

When we speak we are not merely flapping our lips, vibrating air we are engaged in Divine activity we are creating or destroying life. It is the same with listening. If we listen with ears of heart we are creating sacred space, thus creating the Kin-dom of Love.

So, it is not just about what we say, the words we use, but the meaning behind them. This brings a whole deeper meaning to the phrase “The word (Logos, meaning the Meaning), became flesh and dwelt amongst us.” We embody our meaning through the words we use and how we use these words.

What we say and the meaning behind our language really matters. Our words are our meaning. It is not just about the words we use, but the meaning behind them. It can be deeply creative or destructive.

Ursula K Le Guin the great 20^th century novelist wrote:

“Words are events, they do things, change things. They transform both speaker and hearer; they feed energy back and forth and amplify it. They feed understanding or emotion back and forth and amplify it,”

Words express our meaning and they amplify the meaning of our society and culture. This is why the meaning of words change over time. Remember Logos meant both word and meaning and yet in the English translation of the Bible it is always translated as word and not meaning.

It matters the words we use and the meaning behind them. It matters how we engage with one another. It matters the conversations that we have with each other and ourselves. It matters the stories we tell of one another and of life. It matters.

The way we speak with and of one another can connect us, but it can also separate us; words are incredibly powerful things. Words can begin to bring deep healing or can be deeply destructive. What matters is the intention behind them. What matters is the condition of our heart and soul as we speak what we must speak. It is the meaning behind the words that seems to matter the most. Do we speak as siblings that connect or enemies that separate.

It matters you know, it really does.

Below is a video devotion based on the material in this "Blogspot"

Spring is Coming: For Hope is Always Sprouting

“Psalm 23 for This Moment” by Kevin Tarsa Psalm 23 re-cast in the language of Love

May I remember
in this tender moment
that Love is my guide,
always,
shepherding me toward ways of openness and compassion.

I have what I need, really,
with Love at my side,
above me, below me, in front of me, behind me,
inside every cell of me,
Love infused everywhere!

Just when the weight of the world I inhabit
threatens to drop me in place
and press my hope down into the ground beneath me
Love invites me to rest for a gentle while,
and leads the center of my soul to the quiet, still,
restoring waters nearby that,
somehow,
I had not noticed.

And so, Love,
quietly,
sets me once again on its tender and demanding path.

Even when the walls close around me
and the cries of death echo through untold corners,
gripping my heart with fear and sadness,
I know...
I know
that all will be well,
that I will be well,
when Love whispers
near to me,
glints at the corner of my eye,
rests with gentle and persistent invitation upon my shoulders.

Yes, Love blesses me,
Even as the sources and symbols of my pain look on.
Love blesses me from its infinite well,
And I turn
and notice...
that goodness and kindness and grace,
follow me everywhere,
everywhere I go.

I live in a house of Love,
Love that will not let me go.

I live in a house of love,
And always will.

A rather lovely re-casting of the 23rd Psalm, “The Lord is my Shepherd”

That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!

So wrote Robert Browning in his poem “Home Thoughts, from Abroad” published in 1845.

My friend pointed out that this was the song I could hear as I sat in silent meditation with others as the sun came up on Tuesday morning. It was the first time I had heard the bird song for a while. I thought to myself that it was perhaps a sign of Spring that is beckoning, that is singing. I am pleased I was able to hear it.

It has felt like a long winter and I yearn for spring. I have had some health issues, which is rare for me and there has been much grief. Every week it seems someone has left the circle of life. It has weighed heavy at times. So, it was beautiful to hear the song of the thrush that cold Tuesday morning. It reminded me that all is well, that the song of life is always singing.

I was full of song myself that morning as I had enjoyed a wonderful night singing with the choir I have joined. Despite the weather there was a sense of spring about to come. Despite the troubles in the world around me and the wider world, there was a sense of Hope and renewal within me.

“In the spring time of the year, silver buds of hope appear.”

Imbolc Sunday 1st of February is traditionally considered the beginning of Spring. There are signs all around us. Monday 2nd of February is “Candlemass”, officially the end of the Christmas Season. Traditionally this was always the end of Christmas and not Epiphany, the 12th day of Christmas. 

There have been other signs of hope too this week, suggesting the end of winter and the beginning of a new spring. Wednesday was the most beautiful day, the weather wasn’t so bad either. There are new shoots coming through. The snow drops are everywhere. The snowdrop is considered a symbol of hope. Legend has it that they appeared as such after Adam and Even were expelled from Eden. Eve was about to give up hope that the winter would never end, but an angel appeared and transformed some snowflakes into the flower snowdrop, showing that the winter will eventually come to an end. The flower is linked to the purification associated with “Candlemass” as the old rhyme goes:

“The Snowdrop, in purest white array, first rears her head in “Candlemass” day.

The 2nd of February is also “Groundhog Day” another sign of the measure of how long the winter is going to be. I will keep my eye out to see if the Groundhog sees his shadow. If it does it means six more weeks of winter. If not then spring is here. Not scientific I know, but a nice bit of mid-winter fun. If you have never seen the film, I strongly recommend it. It is one of most spiritual ever made as it symbolises the cycle of life and the possibility of redemption. There is always possibility, there is endless hope.

3rd of February is “Elmo’s” birthday, that simple and loveable character from Sesame Street. I love Elmo’s simple philosophy of life. As he says “Elmo thinks it’s important to be kind because if you’re kind to somebody, then they’ll be kind to somebody, and it goes on and on and on.” We should all be more like Elmo. The world needs more of us to plant such seeds everywhere we go.

There are many flowers and buds appearing and I have seen a few gifts of flowers too. Last Sunday when I arrived at Queens Road there was a beautiful array of tulips left in a vase. No one seemed to know who had left them there. I did not notice at first a simple note that was left with them. I only noticed it when I mentioned them as the service began. The note read “For Derek A Special Man who was loved by all who knew him”. The flowers were left by Gwyneth Hare who runs the dance school at Queens Road.

I have been thinking a lot of Derek this week. He meant so much to the wider Urmston community as well as his family and we at Queens Road. Derek had a wonderful friendly and natural welcoming quality. The kind of person who put you at ease. We talked many times over the years and he could not have been more supportive and or encouraging of me and my ministry. The last time we spoke one to one he thanked me for my worship. What he said was that it always felt relatable, that it spoke to him personally. That the stories I told had the capacity to reach into the heart. He was helping and encouraging me right to end. He was the kind of person that brought hope in the winter time. Just like the words of his favourite hymn “And I’ll bring you hope, when hope is hard to find and I’ll bring a song of love and a rose in the winter time.”

I recently conducted the funeral of a friend, Karla. Someone I have known 20 years. A wonderful woman who like Derek was a symbol of hope, love and service. I went to see her at the hospice the night before she died, just as I had seen Derek the day before he died. I did not know that this would be their final night when I saw them. My friend had called me to see her to make plans for her funeral, although before we discussed things she has one or two important matters to attend to for others. She didn’t want to leave any loose ends before she died. Her service was deeply moving and spoke of her spirit. Yes, she gave so much to many, whilst also enjoying her life to the fullest. She was a woman of great courage and an inspiration to many. Several of the women that she helped over the years will pass on her legacy to many more. They will continue to plant the seeds of hope that she helped to bring to flower in them.

Karla and Derek will not get to see this Spring time, but the seeds that they shared in their time will be planted and many of them will grow.

“Will they blossom? Will they grow? We who plant the seed must know.”

We never know the impact that we make upon the lives of others. We can begin chain of reactions in the hearts and minds of others. That is why I say everything matters, every thought, every feeling, every interaction. It may not take seed immediately. It may not go anywhere, but some will and in time.

These later days of winter will eventually turn to spring, even if the groundhog claims we have six more weeks, eventually it will turn to spring and the seeds we plant will grow. Look around you for the seeds of hope that will become the new shoots all around us. Hope springs eternal and we do not seem too far from spring. The seeds are there planted beneath the earth, waiting to give birth.

Maybe there are lessons that we can learn from the patience of seeds. They lay there buried, surrendered to the process that is yet to come, when they will flower and flourish for all to share. Like those seeds there is so much buried within us waiting to be born, maybe not today but some day. There are signs of hope though, may we nurture them.

This brings to mind a favourite little gem I first came across a few years ago it is taken from “Dwellings. A Spiritual History of the Living World” by Linda Hogan,

"Seed. There are so many beginnings. In Japan, I recall, there were wildflowers that grew in the far, cool region of mountains. The bricks of Hiroshima, down below, were formed of clay from these mountains, and so the walls of houses and shops held the dormant trumpet flower seeds. But after one group of humans killed another with the explosive power of life’s smallest elements split wide apart, the mountain flowers began to grow. Out of destruction and bomb heat and the falling of walls, the seeds opened up and grew. What a horrible beauty, the world going its own way, growing without us. But perhaps this, too, speaks of survival, of hope beyond our time."

Yes, there are seeds of hope waiting to be born and there are shoots already showing. There are many dark days to come through, of course there are, but there is hope beyond this time, in the not too distant future. The Hope has to be there growing in our hearts and souls or we won’t plant those seeds. It does not mean there is not horror and destruction in our lives now, but nor does that horror in the present moment stop us seeing that there is goodness in our time and place. There is so much goodness and amazing work going on all around us. Look for the examples. Look at those who give their lives for others, those who live from their hearts.

“Tender shoots thirst for the sun, surging with each day begun. Banish darkness, hate and fear; golden fruit will soon appear. Banish darkness, hate and fear; golden fruit will soon appear.

There is great tragedy in life, there is hate and suffering, but that is not all that there is. There is a great deal of quiet goodness, which we rarely celebrate, it certainly gets little publicity. As they say they rarely print the good news. Why are only negative things called radical, what about radical decency, radical goodness, even radical ok-ness. You know I once heard a wonderful speech on “radical ok-ness” It was given by the father of the bride at my nephew Joe’s wedding. I remember when I heard it how it caught me in that place deep in the soul of me. I remember him talking about the joys and sorrows of life and the pains and struggles we all go through and then he talked about an abiding love that is present in life that can hold us and sustain us in all of this. He named it “Radical Ok-ness”. This phrase really caught the heart of me and awakened the soul of me. I thought yes that’s it and in my mind I began to sing a song I once heard based on words by Julian of Norwich, the words were “All will be well, all will be well, all manner of things, they will be well.”

By the way the woman who wrote that song Meg Barnhouse died in the last week or so. She was a singer song writer and a Unitarian Universalist minister. I first heard the song at Summer School 16 years ago. It was played by Jean Mason to some young people who were struggling with anxiety. There was Jean passing on love, giving from her heart to others. Another person who gave so much to others and who left a beautiful legacy behind. That moment has stayed with me all these years, although Jean sadly died many years ago.

All will be well by Meg Barnhouse

It is easy to look at the world through eyes of despair and say that it is not ok, there is something rotten in life. There is much that is not ok. I am sure we could all make a long list of all that is wrong with life and particularly humanity. So yes it is easy to say that nothing is ok; it is easy to fall into the Hobbesian nightmare and believe has he said “And the life of man, solitary, poore, nasty, brutish, and short” or in the words of the confession in the Book of common Prayer that “there is no health in us”. Human beings do some terrible things to one another and yet on the whole what I see is goodness and in the end goodness seems to prevail. I do see an ok-ness in life, when we choose it. When we bring it to life. This begins I believe by first of all seeing this, by bearing witness to this ok-ness. I suspect that radical ok-ness is about bringing this goodness to life, in our very lives. When we do we bring the “Kin-dom” of Love to life. I see this every day all around me in the lives of ordinary people living their lives.

We need to live in and through hope, we need to be hope, we need to say yes to life. Just because there are problems and suffering in life it does not mean we should turn away from life and lose all hope, make despair the orientation of our heart. What kills us is cynicism, giving up on the possibility of what we can make things in life.

A lack of cynicism is something I saw so powerfully in both my friend Karla and Derek, they lived with an enthusiasm for life and others. Yes, they had lived through challenges and troubles, but both lived in and by hope and certainly without cynicism.

We need to say yes to life, to possibility, to the Hope in our hearts. We need to keep on planting seeds. Let us follow the example of those who lived by and through hope. For hope is, as Elizabeth Barrette wrote in “Origami Emotion”

“Origami Emotion” by Elizabeth Barrette

Hope is
Folding paper cranes
Even when your hands get cramped
And your eyes tired,
Working past blisters and paper cuts,
Simply because something in you
Insists on
Opening its wings.

Yes, it’s a long cold winter and we are not through it yet. That said there are signs of hope all around us and there is something beautiful within us, waiting to be born, to be given birth to, in our hearts and hearths. Let us nurture them and share them with each other, encourage each other to do so. Let us become symbols of hope to one another. Just like the song thrush I heard on Tuesday morning, or the simple gifts of Tulips left on the table at Queens Road, or the loving example of Derek and Karla and or the natural beauty waiting to come alive all around us. Let us live by the spirit of hope, let us plant those seeds. It matters you know it really does. For everything is sacred, everything matters, every thought, every feeling, every word and every deed.

Below is a video devotion based on the material in this "blogspot"

It is important for awake people to be awake

I was away last weekend in the beautiful city of Edinburgh. Edinburgh is one of those places that is a delight to simply walk around in. I spent several hours on Saturday morning doing so. It was wonderful. I went to few places of importances and paid homage to the great and good of the city, marked by the statues and the monuments. To me they help to sanctify the city, give it a sense of the sacred. Edinburgh has a timeless quality to it, with a skyline dominated by the castle built on that ancient rock.

As I wandered round there was nowhere that you could not see the castle on the rock, for whatever reason it kept on bringing the first verse of Psalm 121 to my heart and mind “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help”. I felt a gentle strengthening as I walked around the city with one or two concerns on my mind.

As I said I love the monuments of the city. My favourites though are the more quirky ones. Some tell ordinary tales, of local inhabitants that graced the city and others told great tales. I of course went to find Greyfriars Bobby, to pay homage and of course to touch his nose. I received his blessing. As I am sure you know a dog blesses with their nose. I also discovered another statue of another dog, one that became the mascot of San Diego, This dog was named “Bum”, he arrived as a kind of refugee, a stow-away. The locals fell in love with him and they cared for him. The people of San Diego donated a statue of “Bum” to Edinburgh, thus creating a bond between the two very different cities and their beloved dogs. Both dogs’ noses are worn from all the blessing. I thought of Molly and how she blesses so many folk in the communities we live in. I wonder if they might build a monument to her one day.

There are many monuments to those lost in war and conflict, you see throughout Edinburgh, in particularly in Princess Street gardens. As I wandered through gardens I paused and reflected many times. I thought of many folk we have lost in our communities and folk I have lost personally. I thought of Derek and his family as his life is coming to an end. Sadly Derek died this week, surrounded by his loving family. He is a huge loss to the community and to me personally. He has been a good friend and rock actually.

I saw a statue I hadn’t seen before of a giant toy elephant. It is named “Never Forget”. It has been placed in the gardens in memory of the “Morton Hill Baby scandal”. It marks a something terrible, not only the loss of babies lives, but also that their ashes were never given to their parents. It si said that the elephant never forgets and this statue symbolises the fact that these parents will never forget the loss of their babies.

All these statues and many others, especially in Princess Street gardens, sanctify the city of Edinburgh and the people who both live and visit there. They speak of the city and those who inhabited it through the centuries, marking the past, touching the present and pointing towards the future. I felt blessed as I walked around the city that Saturday morning, connecting with its heart and soul. I then made my way towards St Mark’s Unitarian Church and Janine’s induction service.

It was a beautiful and moving service, as folk gathered together, to mark this important day in Janine’s life and the life Edinburgh Unitarians. So many people from Janine’s life were gathered and the story of her journey into ministry shared and all those that had been involved in her journey were present. It was a true blessing and a blessing to be a part of. It was all accompanied by the most beautiful music played by Ailsa Aitkenhead. There were several moving moments of ritual that we engaged in throughout the service or was it a ceremony. I felt deeply blessed by it all. I then enjoyed a wonderful evening of folk catching up with things. The next day I returned to St Mark’s to enjoy Sunday morning worship. It was wonderful to be led in worship by Kyle Mc Donald, inspired by the journey of Robert Falcon Scott and his party to the Antarctica, an ill fated journey, but one of honour, inspired by the same spirit I felt blessed by all through the weekend in Edinburgh. A spirt that can come alive in each of us and bless us all. We don’t need to touch one another’s noses to receive the blessing, but it is there all the same. By the way Kyle has just been accepted for ministry training. It felt like a blessing to see him lead worship having this just been announced.

My weekend in Edinburgh was one of blessing, worship and ritual of so many kinds. I felt the spirt alive and present throughout it all.

The previous Sunday I had been invited to attend a dear friends Baptism at “The Audacious” Church in central Manchester. This was a very different occasion to the one I had experienced in Edinburgh. I was deeply moved witnessing my friend pass through a threshhold of her own. She has been on quite a journey herself. A journey that had some of its beginnings during a Christmas Eve service at Dunham Road. Now while the worship in the service at the “Audacious Church” did not touch me so much, it did touch many of the hundreds present. What did touch me though was witnessing my friend pass through a threshold of her own and continue on her journey to who knows where. As I looked at her face during this ceremony I saw that same spirit I experienced at St Mark’s and as I wandered around Edinburgh, as I was blessed by the beautiful city. It was a blessing to gaze upon her face and to think of the journey she has been on.

We are always at the threshold of something, the end of one moment moving into another. People say live in the moment, well I have discovered that the moment is not some static thing that you can live within, the moment is liminal in nature, it is the space between the past and the future. You cannot really live in the moment. Maybe it is more accurate to say that the moment lives in and through you. Each moment can be a blessing in itself, can be deeply sacred in and of itself. The key is how we live within each and every one. You may be sanctified by it, if you live by and through blessing.

This bring to mind a rather wonderful poem, “A Ritual to Read to Each Other” by William Stafford. I will share it with you.

“A Ritual to Read to Each Other” by William Stafford

If you don't know the kind of person I am
and I don't know the kind of person you are
a pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.

For there is many a small betrayal in the mind,
a shrug that lets the fragile sequence break
sending with shouts the horrible errors of childhood
storming out to play through the broken dike.

And as elephants parade holding each elephant's tail,
but if one wanders the circus won't find the park,
I call it cruel and maybe the root of all cruelty
to know what occurs but not recognize the fact.

And so I appeal to a voice, to something shadowy,
a remote important region in all who talk:
though we could fool each other, we should consider—
lest the parade of our mutual life get lost in the dark.

For it is important that awake people be awake,
or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;
the signals we give — yes or no, or maybe —
should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.

It is the line “For it is important that awake people be awake, or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep” that speaks powerfully and intensely to me. It is not merely that we need to keep ourselves awake, but that we need to remind one another who and what we truly are in order that we remain awake and do not go back to sleep. We have to bring to life what has awakened within each and everyone of us and share that with each other so as to remind one another of the importance of staying awake, or we will go back to sleep. Again something I experienced in Edinburgh last weekend. I felt once again awakened by the spirit and was reminded how vital it is that we remain awake.

The key is to remember and to bring the memory alive in this moment we find ourselves in right here and now. To communicate what we have learnt and to listen to what has awoken within each other. I felt this powerfully as I shared in Janine’s induction service and as I looked upon the face of my friend during her Baptism. I thought of all that had brought them to these moments of transition and wondered where they might lead. They may not build monuments to them, but they will touch many lives and bless folk with their presence, of this I am certain.

As I witnessed Janine’s induction, as I saw her step over the threshold into her life as a minister, I felt those words by William Stafford deep in my heart. As I did I felt a recommitment to ministry deep within me and thought to myself, I will attempt to live that ritual and keep on reading it to others and listen to it as they read the ritual to me. I will remember the line.

“For it is important that awake people be awake, or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep”

Over the last few weeks, I’ve been thinking once again about worship. Its purpose and how to create sacred space. Of course, having Peter as a student has brought this to my consciousness. Also being part of the interview panel for ministry as well as “Ministry in the Making” has brought it to my head and heart too. I have also attended several different forms of worship, some has affected my soul, touched me deeply. Other has not in the least, although it did many others who were present. It has all got me thinking deeply about worship and its purpose. I have also been thinking about ritual, how it holds life together and sanctifies it, but also the dangers of becoming a slave to it. There is a place and need for structure as it allows the freedom to explore. There is also the need to cater for different types of people. There is a balance needed between structure and total lassez faire. I know myself I need a mixture of the two, although I know the balance will never be perfect. I also know that you cannot please all of the people all of the time.

This brings to mind a favourite story “The Guru’s Cat”

In India there was a great religious guru who was always surrounded in his Ashram by loyal devotees. For hours a day, the guru and his followers would meditate on God. The only problem was that the guru had a young cat, an annoying creature, who used to walk through the temple meowing and purring and bothering everyone during meditation. So the guru, in all his practical wisdom, commanded that the cat be tied to a pole outside for a few hours a day, only during meditation, so as to not disturb anyone. This became a habit – tying the cat to the pole and then meditating on God – but as years passed, the habit hardened into religious ritual. Nobody could meditate unless the cat was tied to the pole first. After the guru died, the cat continued to be tied during evening worship.

Then one day the cat died. The guru’s followers were panic-stricken. It was a major religious crisis – how could they meditate now, without a cat to tie to a pole? How would they reach God? In their minds, the cat had become the means.

Centuries later, learned treatises were written by the guru’s scholarly disciples on the liturgical significance of tying up a cat while worship is performed.

Ritual in worship helps to touch the spirit. That said there is a real danger in becoming too enslaved to ritual. Sometimes it becomes all about the ritual and the spirit dies. Surely the purpose of such activities is to feed the spirit and not just follow some pattern, just like the story of “Guru’s Cat”. We are here to touch and awaken the spirit, to keep feeding it and thus to keep the spirit awake.

Sometimes we become so tied to things that we forget the purpose of why we are doing what we are doing. So yes, I have been thinking once again about the purpose of worship, particularly in the context of a free religious tradition, one that should never be a slave to anything. I have also been thinking about the purpose of spirituality and the spiritual life. I have been thinking how we enliven and awaken the spirit in each of us, about balance, and how worship may feed the soul; thinking of ways to live the spiritual life, to live spiritually alive.

How do we define spirituality and the spiritual life? What is its purpose? I have heard many explanations over the years. The best one came from Rev Bill Darlison, he said “that the purpose of the spiritual life, is to increase our sensitivity to life.” I believe that the purpose of spirituality is to aid us to become more affected by life and thus become more effective in life. It is not to rise beyond life, to escape from life, but to enable us to engage fully with reality. I know that the more engaged I am in such practices the more engaged I am in life. That said I also need such practices to recharge my spiritual batteries and thus return back to life and increase the affect and become more effective. The spiritual life is not so much about transcendence but transformation. It is not about escaping life, but to be changed by it and thus be a force for good within it.

The realm of the spirit and the realm of the material are not separate, they both feed and are fed by each other.

There is something very powerful about coming together in love; there is something very powerful in opening ourselves up to one another and recognise what connects us what makes us wholly human. Worshipping together is one way to do so, but it can happen in all aspects of life. It can occur in deep encounters with others, when love and attention is paid. It can happen by simply walking around wherever you may find yourself if your spirit is open to it.

The communities I serve gather together seeking something, as we engage in the ritual of worship. We come for a reason, even if where not wholly sure what that reason is. In the worship we share I attempt to create through words, music, silence, imagery and more, a sacred time and space that will enable us to open our hearts and help us connect to the Greater mysteries of life, to the Web of being, to know the spirit of life and love, to experience God and for this to impact on how we live our day to day lives.

In this sacred space at the sacred time where generations have worshipped we open our hearts to the greater mysteries of life. In so doing we begin to connect to the greater realities and mysteries of existence. It is this time that can help us to open up the lives we find ourselves in and to pay attention to the life around us and to touch the people we meet in our daily living. In so doing we make all life sacred, by blessing it with our presence.

My hope is that when we leave the space that we are touched in those deeper aspects of our humanity and that when we leave the space that we begin to bless the world with our sacred humanity by recognising the sacredness of each person that we meet and that we bless life with our loving presence.

Or as William Stafford put it, “For it is important that awake people be awake, or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep”

May our souls, our spirits, our simple human being be awake.

Below is a video devotion based on the material in this "Blogspot" 

Winter & Wellbeing: Finding Comfort in the Spirit of Hygge

Monday 12th of January has become one of those days that have been marked out on the yearly calendar. Not an official public holiday, there isn’t one until Easter. That said it is still a day we mark. It is known as “Blue Monday”, no I don’t mean the song by New Order. “Blue Monday” has become regarded as the hardest day of the year, after all the Christmas spirit has all gone and we are right in depths of winter. It is dark, it is cold and there is little light around, Spring seems so far away. The day light hours will increase over the coming weeks but still we must face winter. January and February can be difficult as we feel stuck in the cold on these dark winter evenings.

Last Monday morning I felt somewhat exhausted and little blue myself. It seems Blue Monday came a week early for me. Now there are good reasons for this I was not fully over the virus that struck me down over Christmas. Despite this feeling I went out into the snowy day with Molly and bumped into people and connected and chatted away. Folk wishing each other Happy New Year and talking about their Christmases. Molly enjoyed the snow, she loved it, that said she didn’t like the cold and wet. She was happy to get home and curl up in the comfort of her bed and warmth of the house. She slept much of the day.

I got on with some work and then took down my tree and decorations. As I did I felt some sadness, especially as I packed away all the gifts I had bought and wrapped for family, but was unable to give, as I was too unwell to travel at the time. So, my mood was low. I was feeling fatigued, my throat was sore too, which was troubling. I also had my share of concerns for folk in my life, particularly two friends who are struggling, the two communities I serve that have their challenges and the wider world in which we all live. Nothing new here. The choir I have joined and loved joining was getting back together that night. I considered not going and then thought to myself no you will enjoy it, have a little faith.

Thank goodness I did. It was lovely to catch up with folk who I hadn’t seen for a while; it was wonderful to connect and share our tales and of course to sing. I found comfort, connection, community and joy. I got right into what I was doing. I really got into it. In fact, the choir leader said at one point. “I don’t want to single anyone out, but what I am looking for from you all is the energy that Danny is putting into this.” Apparently, I was giving it the appropriate amount of “sass”. This led to much laughter. It was just what I needed. I needed the joy of singing and the comfort of community. My soul needed it and gave me a wonderful sense of well-being.

This got me thinking of the importance of well-being, especially at this time of year. I know my physical, mental and spiritual well-being are interconnected. If one is out of sync, then they can all be. I have noticed this again over the last few weeks.

Often at the beginning of the year we resolve to live more healthily, gym membership sores at this time of the year in an attempt to improve our physical lives. I know I would certainly benefit from getting physically healthier. Physical well-being is of course on many of our minds this winter too, there does seem to have been more than the average number of nasty viruses about that have ruined one or two of our Christmases.

So yes physical well-being is definitely on our minds at this time of the year.

Now while there is a great deal of talk of improving our physical well-being, which is of course vital, there seems to be less talk of taking care of our spiritual well-being, which actually may well be more vital. If I have learnt anything in life I know that my emotional, mental and physical well-being rests on my spiritual health.

I remember a wise man saying to me twenty or more years ago, “If you are spiritually well, the rest will be taken care of.” How true this is. I learnt many years ago not to put the horse before the cart, a lesson I have never forgotten.

Spiritual well-being is vital. How do I know this? Well for many years it was something I lacked and as a result my life was devoid of all meaning and connection. I was just an empty vessel blown about in the storms of life. I was lonely, I was lost and I was ruled by fear of pretty much everything. This is no longer the case and the reason for this is that I found both and anchor and rudder as well as the ability to set my sails accordingly when the winds really blow. The key to this is spiritual well-being.

Medical practioners are increasingly recognising the potential benefits that spiritual well-being can bring. A spiritually healthy person tends to be at ease with themselves and comfortable in their own skin and surroundings, they have a developing awareness of themselves and those around them, they tend to act with patience, honesty, kindness, hope, wisdom, joy and creativity. They have a healthy relationships with the people they share their lives with as well as a hope filled view of life and a sense of inner peace and acceptance of problems we face in life. While their recovery from both illness and bereavement tend to be less problematic.

Spiritual well-being is vital to a life of meaning and purpose and yet so many people in our increasing secularised age neglect this. Yes, many folks may have a near perfect buffed body and a sharp mind and yet they can still feel empty, lonely and utterly disconnected.

Why is this? Well I suspect it is because increasingly we neglect our souls.

Now one sign of healthy well-being in my own being is the quality of my humour. I noticed last Monday morning I was in a deeply serious mood. This though was not the case by the end of the day. I was feeling well again, I was in good humour. Being out in life and community and set me free from myself and restored my well-being.

"Life is far too serious a business to be taken too seriously. I remember at school an old biology teacher telling me that a man who cannot laugh at himself will always struggle. It is something else I have never forgotten. I hated him for it at the time, because I knew I took myself far too seriously and just couldn’t free myself from this blight. I just took everything so personally. Thankfully I learnt a long time ago that if ever I want a good laugh I just have to listen to myself.

More and more I see clearly that one of the key barometers of my spiritual well-being is the health of my humour. When I am in good humour I find that I am in good health.

As you know I am not alone in this, it’s an ancient idea. As I have shared many times before, to be in good humour is to enjoy good health. The word “Humour” is derived from a medieval medical term for fluids of the human body. It has its roots in the ‘old’ French word ‘humor’, derived from the Latin ‘umere’. Physicians of the day believed that we had four different types of internal fluids that they called ‘humors’ and it was these that determined our physical and mental health. Therefore, if a person became ill it was believed that their humors were out of balance. So, to be in good humour is to literally be in good health, or at least that’s what it used to mean.

Now of course this isn’t why I and others have suffered some horrible winter viruses. That said I suspect that good humour might just help us through the winter blues.

Everyone knows I love language; I love the roots and meaning of words, humour being a classic example. I especially love how words, like humour, have either changed in meaning, or somehow got lost or disappeared. New words, or at least new words to our culture are also of interest to me. One word that has come into prominence in recent years is Hygge (pronounced hew-geh). It is a word of Scandinavian origin, primarily Danish but also Norwegian. According to Louisa Thomson Brits in “The Book of Hygge” Hygge is defined as “a quality of presence and an experience of belonging and togetherness. It is a feeling of being warm, safe, comforted and sheltered. Hygge is an experience of selfhood and communion with people and places that anchors and affirms us, gives us courage and consolation”. This is a feeling I felt powerfully when back with the choir last Monday. It is something I find in spiritual community too. It gives me a sense of well-being. Interestingly last Autumn the choir recorded a version of “Park-Life”, originally by Blur. We also created a video, it’s aim being to help promote the Oyez art collective now based at the town hall where the choir practices. The cry throughout being “Get some community”. It got me thinking about a line in the original “Parklife” “It gives me a sense of enormous well-being”. This is something we all strive for. This is at the heart of Hygge. I feel that there is much that we can learn from Hygge, that can help us to improve our well-being as individuals and community.

Hygge (hew-geh) helps Danes imagine who they are and how they should be together, there is something of collective and not merely individual about it. Hygge began to come to prominence globally due to an increase in fascination with the Scandinavian countries ever since the launch of the UN World Happiness Report in 2012, in which both Denmark and Norway have never been out of the top three with regards to levels of happiness amongst their population. Could it be down to this concept of Hygge? Maybe!

So where does Hygge come from? There are various theories as to the origin of Hygge. It appears to be rooted in the nineteenth century. Some trace it back to the Biedermeier movement, which developed as a reaction to the early nineteenth century revolutionary passion, throughout Europe. During this period artists and designers returned to the home and developed their private lives as a reaction against the public pretentions of the upper class. Another theory suggests that it was influenced by what was considered to be a more liberal guilt free Protestantism that developed in Denmark in comparison to their Scandinavian neighbours, which was established by the theologian N.F.S Grudtvig. It also developed under the social democratic and egalitarian values of the Danish people.

The central concept of the “Hygge Life”, according to Louisa Thomsen Britts in “The Book of Hygge”, is “a quality of presence and a feeling of belongness and togetherness. It is a feeling of being warm, safe, comforted and sheltered.” It is a state of being, a way of being and living in the world and not something that you can possess. It is a quality of hominess, of being, of welcome and hospitable, of being warm, safe and sheltered and enables the other to feel that way in your company. It is not a uniquely Danish quality and the Danes themselves do not consider it to be so, it is a quality that you will find at the core of the great religious and spiritual traditions, it is hospitality in its most basic form. Something that has perhaps become lost in our individualistic and fast paced lives.

Hygge has been described as the art of creating intimacy, cosy togetherness and taking pleasure in the presence of soothing things. Although it is often developed through cosy material things it is more about creating a particular atmosphere or to shape an experience. Hyyge is about creating a communal atmosphere of simplicity and presence, it is about living by soulful presence. It is about how to be with each other and nurturing those relationship so as to build respect, goodwill to all and hope, with all your heart, with all your mind and with all your soul. It is about being good neighbours to all; it is about creating a quiet space, in the rush and push of life to enable our soulfulness to come out of hiding and express itself fully in life, thus inviting the other to do so too. In so doing we will truly be enabled to love our neighbours as ourselves. We need such places as we live in and through the storms of life. There are many storms in life, both literally and figuratively.

Hygge is about a love and appreciation of the simple, close to hand things in life. It encourages gratitude for the everyday moments in life. It is about equality and egality, about working together. It has deeply spiritual qualities, but earthy real ones. It recognises the worth of each person, it desires peace and harmony, equality for all, a heartfelt appreciation of the natural world. It builds trust and connection between people; it is about harmonious living. It celebrates the simple pleasure of being alive wherever you find yourself, encouraging soulful presence. To me this is the essence of spiritual living. By living this way, you encourage others to come and join with you, to come as you are, exactly as you are. Hygge is about creating intentional intimacy, intimacy with ourselves, with God, with each other and with all life. It is about living by the Divine commandment, to love God and to love our neighbours as ourselves.

Hygge draws meaning from the fabric of ordinary living. It's a way of acknowledging the sacred in the secular, of giving something ordinary a special context, spirit, and warmth, and taking time to make it extraordinary. I invite us to adopt an attitude of Hygge, now and in the days yet to come. It can begin in the midst of winter, perhaps tomorrow on Blue Monday. It will enable us to touch those deeper aspects of our own humanity and help hold one another in a communal spiritual hug. It will give us all an enormous sense of well-being and don’t we all want to be well.

May we all be well, may we live by well-being.

Let us live in and by the spirit of Hygge.

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