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

So here we stand together at the beginning of a new year, none of us knowing what the future will hold, it truly is unwritten. The book of life is an open book waiting for us to mark it with our stories and when it is written to look back on it and give it whatever meaning we find.

Yes, the pages truly are blank and for some this can appear a scary proposition, but should we fear the unknown? Surely the excitement and the energy of life is in the unknown and the unknowing. We know what the past has been, or at least we have our perspective on it. Whatever we may have thought of the last year, we have all lived it. I wonder what will go into the book in 2026.

I have been thinking of books a lot recently. How they tell a story of something. We have our own tales to tell. I have enjoyed the mini public library outside the town hall in Altrincham, part of the OYEZ art collective that have taken over the place. I have placed books there myself, some of which have been taken. I wonder what these books say about those who lend and borrow them. I believe that sharing the books we read is a wonderful and beautiful way of sharing ourselves.

This year has been designated the “National Year of Reading”. People in the UK are invited to rediscover the joy of reading. I would say more than enjoy, but to share what they are reading. I read a lot, but I rarely read fiction, something I should do more oof. Maybe re-disover the joy of it.

Of course we all have our own libraries, our personal, our inner libraries. There is a very beautiful French term for this “blibliotheque interieure”, which means your “inner library”, this invisible shelf that we carry inside ourselves. A shelf filled with every story that has shaped our lives. What are the stories that have shaped our lives this last year?

This “inner library” contains every book that you have read that has touched your heart and soul. All the heartbreaks and struggles you have survived and grown through. Every quote remembered and everything you have heard said that has shaped your soul. All those memories that have made you who you are. All these experiences are there alive in our inner library. They sing the song that tells who we are and what we have lived through, what has shaped us. These stories remind us of who we are and where we have been on this journey of life. Remembering always that a journey is what we do in a day. We have lived through another 365 journeys this last year and have already begun to embark on another 365.

So, as the new year begins it is vital to look back and recognise what is on the shelf of our inner library. There have been tough times, I have had my share. There have been incredible things too. So now we get to begin a new book, one that is yet unwritten. We have been blessed with another year, we can now place last years on the shelf.

I know that my life grows richer by the year, even though I am not often aware of this, well not until I share my story. This is the key you know, we are not isolated beings, we do not journey alone. We are here to lend our personal libraries to one another, just like that little box outside the town hall in Altrincham, that little lending library. In sharing our stories we encourage one another to journey on together. Yes, we share our struggles, but also our joy and laughter of lives well lived. It is so vital to remind each other who we truly are. So, let’s begin by sharing our inner libraries with one another. For our stories truly are our life’s blessings.

We carry our stories with us through impermanence and ever changing nature of life. Impermanence is the beauty and the energy of life. Life is forever changing and transforming and turning into something new. Nothing ever stays exactly the same and nothing is ever repeated in exactly the same way again. This was wonderfully expressed by the ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus some 2,500 years ago. Who said, among many other things, “Everything flows, nothing stands still.” “No one ever steps into the same river twice.” And “Nothing endures but change.” He was saying that the only constant in life was and is change, that life was constantly in flux and that everything is impermanent.

As I look back at the year that has passed so much seems so different and yet if truth be told much is still the same. I have a few more scars no doubt and experienced unexpected blessings. I have stories to share, often with a glint of humour.

As I look around at the world in which I live I witness much that disturbs me. Division and fear does seem to be on the increase as does instability. People do seem anxious, are living with fear of what might be. And yet as I walk around the town in which I live every day, life is much the same. People are much the same as they have always been. Yes, everything changes and yet somehow everything still seems much the same. People are the same as they have always, let us not become victims of our own bad dreams.

On Monday I was feeling a little better after being ill over Christmas. I took Molly out in the morning and later in the afternoon and bumped into many of the people I usually do in the two local parks. There was much conversation and sharing of concern, there was also an awful lot of laughter. It lifted my spirits and showed me I was once again that my health was returning. I in better health, certainly good humour. Thank goodness. All the people I met had passed through their own Christmasses and were now on the other side, about to step into a New Year. Some things had changed and yet everything was much as it always was. Sadly the last couple of days I’ve been feeling a little under the weather again.

Life is constantly changing, nothing ever stays exactly the same and no moment is exactly like any other. We all experience these moments differently too; we each bring our pasts with us into each moment and this always impacts on the present.

That said despite the changing nature of our material lives there are things that do seem permanent, that do not change. There are some things that hold us and sustain us despite the constant changing nature of life. The last twenty odd years of my life has proven this to me, there have been three unchanging things that have held and sustained me and kept me open to life despite its uncertainty. Things that have held me even during some deeply painful experiences. The three are faith, hope and love. Much of what I place on my inner library are tales about these three. Yes they are tales of faith, of hope and of love.

It was Paul of Tarsus, in the 13th Chapter of his first letter to the Corinthians who named these three that have held me and led these last 20 odd years. I have seen many others held by them too, through many storms in their lives. There is something eternal about, something universal and they were at work long before he wrote about them. We can rely upon these three, but only if we nurture and strengthen them. We can depend upon these three faith, hope and love. But what do these three mean?

Faith is about trusting in life itself; it is about living as openly and honestly as possible; it is about accepting that there is pain in life, but that there is also so much joy; it is realising that the mere fact that we exist at all is life’s greatest gift. This allows us to sing the joy of living, in all its mystery. It is also about seeing that we are all in this together, that we all live in the one lifeboat. We need to connect as much as possible to the boat of life in which we share. We need to ensure that our lifelines are secure and not worn or frayed at the edges. This is something we need to hold onto and not let go of. Why, you may well ask? Well because it sustains us through the vicissitudes of life. Life does not offer much certainty, but we need not despair at this, or at least not stay in despair. There are many stories off faith that have been placed on the shelf of my inner library this year.

Hope is the second of those eternal, universal truths. Hope is rooted in despair; it grows from the same place. To live in hope is to believe that if we live with conviction and compassion that we can effect positive change in our world, even if we ourselves do not get see to see its full fruition. Hope is about planting those seeds when and where ever we can.

To live with hope is to live with the attitude that the future is genuinely open. The God of my understanding works with us and guides us but leaves life open, it is not pre-ordained. “The Lure of Divine Love” draws us out of ourselves, but it also allows life to develop freely. I accept that the past does have power, I have a strong sense of history, this is very important. That said I do not believe that the past defines the future, not everything is inevitable. The future is unwritten. There are many more books of life waiting to be written by our living and being. Our inner shelves can hold so much more.

Life is definitely a journey worth taking, even during its toughest moments. Yes we all despair at times and we all live with uncertainty, but the beacon of hope is always there. The writer of the book of proverbs reminds us “Where there is no vision (no hope) the people perish.” Hope is a vital lifeline it both holds and sustains us. It is an eternal and universal principle and one that also requires nurture. There are many stories off hope that have been placed on the shelf of my inner library this year.

What about love? How can it sustain us? By the way I am not talking of romance here, I am talking of spiritual love. Spiritual love is that power that connects us to our true selves, one another, the life we share and whatever it is that connects all life. What I myself call God; that power that is greater than all and yet present in each. It is love that powers the lifeboat, that puts wind in its sails. Love is about caring deeply and passionately about life itself. This of course requires attention; it is a life line that requires nurture. Love reminds me that we do not live for ourselves alone or by ourselves alone. “no man is an island” or as Kurt Vonnegut once put it “one human being is no human being”. The universal and eternal truth is that we need the love, the care, the companionship of others in order to fully experience what it is to be alive. By ourselves we are never fully alive. There are many stories off love that have been placed on the shelf of my inner library this year.

If we live by these three faith, hope and love we will know what it means to truly live and experience the joy of living, even in the dark days.

The beginning of a new year is a time for new beginnings, a time for hope of what might be and a time to reflect on what has been before us. It is a time to take stock of our inner libraries, the resources that carry us through life, our stories of faith, hope and love that will sustain us through struggle and inspire us to write and share stories both new and old.

So, let’s look forward with new eyes, with fresh eyes. Let’s look back and learn from our pasts and commit to live more faithfully, hopefully and lovingly from them. Let’s learn to live with increased sense of faith, hope and love.

Whatever this year brings us, let us resolve as individuals and as a community to build a home of faith, hope and love.

Let’s begin again this day and every day, lets begin again in love.

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

Feeling the Presence (or Presents) of Christmas

We are well and truly into the Advent season; we are making our way to that moment of magic that is Christmas day. It is so close and yet feels so far away. Our bodies, our minds, our hearts and our souls are making the journey, just as the holy family did in the Christmas mythos. These are the days of waiting of preparation. The music is playing, we can hear all the familiar songs in every shop as we no doubt begin the process of selecting presents for our loved ones.

This is the season for giving and forgetting, but not just one of wanton consumerism, is not just about giving and getting things. It is a time set aside to forgive and forget, to heal old wounds, surely this is the spirit of the season ahead. Sadly, though the spirit of the season is so often lost.

A classic example of missing out on the spirit and just getting lost in the pure materialism of the season is the “Black Friday” phenomenon that has come to our culture in recent years. It is another example of us partially importing and acquiring culture from our friends in America. Sadly though we have only taken on board the material aspects. Yes, we have “Black Friday” or more accurately “Black Fortnight” but without the spiritual element that accompanies it. “Thanksgiving”, a festival of coming together in love and an offering of thanks for the gifts that life has offered to us we have not acquired…Oh we do live in such a reductionist age, we have squeezed the spirit out of everything. In so doing we run the risk of reducing our lives to nothingness, to meaninglessness. This is a dangerous game. In reducing everything to a purely material level we reduce everything eventually to nothing, until life itself becomes nothing but a meaningless soulless activity.

We need to find the spirit and soul of everything, to sanctify life once again…We need to rediscover the spirit of the seasons, to once again find the religion in the ribbons and the wrapping paper. We need to be wrapped, to be enveloped in this spirit, in our bodies and souls. We need to feel the spirit of the season, we need to embody that love.

Strangely enough we can begin to discover the spirit of the season in those very gifts as we select them for our loved ones and wrap them up with our care and attention. These are acts of connection and thanks giving in and of themselves. This is the spirit coming alive, oh yes there is true religion in the ribbons and wrapping paper and the time we take to select and prepare the gifts. Through such simple acts we can begin once again to sanctify life. As we wrap those gifts we envelop them with love. The love is incarnated as we write and place those card in envelopes, as we do the love at the heart of the season envelopes us.

Perhaps the greatest gift we can give is simply our time and our love. We can sanctify this season by giving one another perhaps the greatest present of them all, our true presence. We just need to spend time listening and paying attention to one another. Our time is the most priceless commodity of them all. We embody this love by giving them the present of our loving presence.

Brings to mind an old joke I heard told one Christmas time by Rev Hammer

It’s a scene that was cut from “The Return of the Jedi” episode VI in the battle between Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker when Darth Vader said Luke:

"Luke, I know what you're getting for Christmas."

To which Luke Skywalker replied: "How could you possibly know?"

To which Darth Vader answered: "I have felt your presents."

I will get my coat.

There are other ways that we can embody love, that we can share our gifts our presents. Modern social media does have its good points. A lovely friend of mine sent me the gift of a “meme”, that expresses the priceless commodity of time. It is by Thich Naht Hanh, who said:

“Every morning, when we wake up, we have twenty four brand new hours to live. What a precious gift! We have the capacity to live in a way that these twenty four hours will bring Peace, Joy and Happiness to ourselves and others.”

What a precious gift we have been given. The gift of life, the gift of our presence. Let’s not waste it. Let’s sanctify life with our presence with our life. Let’s become the gift we have all been waiting for.

May we feel one another’s loving presence and may that universal and eternal love come to life through human being and loving.

You may recall some of the words of the prayer shared from last week’s Advent service:

Now is the moment of magic,

and here's a blessing:
we already possess all the gifts we need;
we've already received our presents:
ears to hear music,
eyes to behold lights,
hands to build true peace on earth
and to hold each other tight in love.

You see we’ve already received the greatest gifts we could ever have been given, the gift of life itself. It is up to us what we do with this gift. Let’s not waste them; let’s make the most of them; let’s make the most of our lives. In so doing we will encourage others to do the same and we will sanctify life with our presence. What a present we then become to life itself. Remember that life is indeed the greatest gift of them all. Life is the ultimate Grace. We did absolutely nothing to deserve it. It was freely given to us without any effort on our part.

Mariah Carey sang “All I want for Christmas is You”. Let us wrap ourselves in love and give our loving presence.

Last week I shared the experience of the loving hug offered by Floella Benjamin. Something so deeply loving and beautiful, something I will never forget because of the purity of it. A love I believe we all possess.

It brings to my mind the following wonderful poem “The Hug” by Tess Gallagher

“THE HUG” by Tess Gallagher

A woman is reading a poem on the street and another woman stops to listen.
We stop too, with our arms around each other.
The poem is being read and listened to out here in the open.

Behind us no one is entering or leaving the houses.

Suddenly a hug comes over me and I am giving it to you,
like a variable star shooting light off to make itself comfortable, then subsiding.
I finish but keep on holding you.
A man walks up to us and we know he has not come out of nowhere, but if he could, he would have.

He looks homeless because of how he needs.
“Can I have one of those?’ he asks you, and I feel you nod.
I am surprised, surprised you don’t tell him how it is – that I am yours, only yours, etc., exclusive as a nose to its face.

Love - that’s what we’re talking about.
Love that nabs you with “for me only” and holds on.
So I walk over to him and put my arms around him and try to hug him like I mean it.
He’s got an overcoat on so thick I can’t feel him past it. I’m starting the hug and thinking.
“How big a hug is this supposed to be? How long shall I hold this hug?”
Already we could be eternal, His arms falling over my shoulders,
my hands not meeting behind his back, he is so big!

I put my head into his chest and snuggle in.
I lean into him. I lean my blood and my wishes into him.
He stands for it. This is his and he’s starting to give it back so well I know he’s getting it.
This Hug. So truly, so tenderly, we stop having arms and I don’t know if my lover has walked away
Or what, or if the woman is still reading the poem, or the houses - what about them? - the houses.

Clearly, a little permission is a dangerous thing.
But when you hug someone you want it to be a masterpiece of connection, the way the button on his coat will leave the imprint of a planet in my cheek when I walk away.
When I try to find some place to go back to.

This poem possesses such an enveloping love. It’s beauty lays in its universality. I’m sure that most of us can identify with both characters; I’m sure that most us have experienced that sense of emptiness and that feeling of being utterly devoid of love that the homeless man feels, so desperate that you would ask a stranger to hold you; I’m sure all of us have felt too afraid to give our love away, as it is only for your beloved. And comes that moment of magic as you give in and you become transformed by giving your love away.

This to me is the heart of the incarnation of love in the Christmas mythos. Maybe it’s all there in the hug. Oh hug, a simple but. How though do we describe a hug? Do we give a hug? Do we have a hug? Do we get a hug? Maybe all three. I think that the love at the heart of Christmas is found in a hug, it’s about being enveloped in love.

I recently discovered something about the Nativity found in Luke’s Gospel. It is found in a French translation of those old familiar words, that I heard on “On: Being”:

“The angel of the Lord came to them and the glory of the Lord shone all around them.” And “You will find a newborn wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger,”

Now what is fascinating about the French translation is that it describes the wrapping of love as being a kind of enveloping, in both phrases. The glory of the Lord “les enveloppa”, is wrapped around them. And the child was “envelope” — wrapped around — in clothes.

Could this be what is truly at the heart of the Christmas mythos. Maybe this love is an enveloping love, symbolised in the hug. In this ordinary birth of an extraordinary man, the love is incarnated that it envelopes us and that we bring this love to life when we love in the same way. Our presence can bring this love alive once again. Maybe we all can give such love and in so doing we receive too.

I will do my utmost to give this love away beginning this Advent and moving on into Christmas and beyond. This to me is Love coming alive, Love incarnating in human form. A love that comes alive by simply giving our presence. This is what we are here for. To use the gifts we have been given, not only for ourselves but for the good of all and to share with all, therefore encouraging others to do the same. It begins by simply sharing the most precious gift of all, my time, my presence, isn’t this the ultimate present. Oh how I wish I had more of this priceless commodity to give. Oh how I wish there was more of this precious commodity for giving and for getting.

This is what I’d like us all to focus on this Advent season, this giving of our true presence, the ultimate present. I’m not saying you need to go hug everyone, but you can incarnate love and envelop them with your loving presence. It begins right here right now in this season of selecting and wrapping presents. We can begin to bring the sacred alive in what appears to be wanton materialism. We can sanctify life with our presence in the selecting and wrapping of presents, we can begin to bring the spirit of the season alive in these most simple acts, we can unwrap the religion in the ribbons. We can also bless one another with our presence by simply spending time with one another mindfully and lovingly, simply sharing our time and listening to one another. In so doing we will both give and receive love.

It really is that simple. We can bring the spirit of the season alive once again. We can bring Christmas alive in the presence of each and every day. We can become the greatest gift that anyone could wish for.

We no longer have to wish it could be Christmas every day, we can make it Christmas every day. By simply blessing each day with our presence.

I know what you have got for Christmas, I’ve felt your presence.

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

Advent: Plant Yourself at the Gates of Hope

"The Sun Versus the Moon"

What do you think is most valuable to us the sun or the moon?

Well interestingly the wise fool Nasrudin was once asked this question and this was his reply.

Nasrudin: “Well, the sun is out during the daytime when there is light. The moon, on the other hand, provides light during the night when it’s dark. Thus, the moon is obviously much more valuable.”

Good old Nasrudin the holy fool the bringer of un-common sense. Now I know some of you are thinking what a ridiculous thing to say but please do look beyond the obvious here. Please put aside your literal faculties. There is a deep truth here. Light is a priceless commodity during times of darkness but of far less value when it is already light.

“Under the cover of darkness the moon was laughing at the sun, you can’t outshine me here”

A single flame, a simple light is of immense value in the dark, but is of no use when the light of the world is shinning oh so bright. One single light has to capacity to illuminate darkness, for a light shone in the dark and the darkness did not overcome it. We need more light, more hope in the winter time, winter is here.

“And I’ll give you hope, when hope is hard to find and I’ll bring a song of love and a rose in the winter time.”

I fell in love with this hymn many years ago, it was at the time that our oldest brother, our Allen was dying. Our Mandy told me that she had visited him in the hospice and as she left she saw a single rose in the garden. I reckon it was a peace rose from her description as it is hardy rose that can survive anything, including winter. There it was offering her hope in the winter both seasonally and the heart of our family. I shared the hymn “Rose in the Winter Time” with her, it has given us great meaning ever since, deep hope. I share it with many folk in times of despair, when they need a little light in the dark times. You don’t really need it when you are walking, even dancing in the sunlight of the spirit. I like to plant a rose, plant myself at the gates of hope. It helps to keep us through the night.

In another piece from Victoria Safford on hope she related being told by a psychiatrist at college who had recently lost a woman to suicide humbly admitting “You know I cannot save them. I am not here to save anybody or to save the world. All I can do — what I am called to do — is to plant myself at the gates of Hope. Sometimes they come in; sometimes they walk by. But I stand there every day and I call out till my lungs are sore with calling, and beckon and urge them in toward beautiful life and love…”

We are here to plant ourselves at the gates of hope. To shine some light in the dark places of this our world.

Have you ever met someone who has just powerfully affected you, to the core of their being, a person who just exudes pure love. A person who shone like the brightest of light. I have met a few people in my life who just had this profound effect on me. Some I met just briefly, others I knew for periods of time, some decades. I have been thinking of a few of those souls in recent months. I have been remembering many souls who have touched my life. The last 18 months seem to have been one of constant grief. I have lost so many folk, from all aspects of my life. It has weighed heavy on me at times. These last few weeks this has led me to think of the lives that have touched me, especially those who planted themselves at the gates of hope. Those that lit the flame of hope by just being themselves. Those lights that shone in the darkness and the darkness and the darkness did not overcome them

Now I could talk of ordinary examples and there are many, but I would like to tell you about a better known one. I have spoken of her before. She is one from my childhood, who I met a few years ago. This is Baroness Floella Benjamin. I fell in love with her as little boy in the 1970’s as she took us through the windows of “Playschool”. For those younger than me “Playschool” was a children’s television program in the 1970’s. Floella has lived an incredible life and was made a life peer a few years ago. I met her when I was asked to attend a parliamentary forum on “Men’s Health”. She listened intently as I spoke and then she approached me and asked if she could hug me. I of course obliged. It was the most incredibly loving experience I have ever known. It was pure love. She exudes this incredible spirit. She is famous for her hugs and I now know why. Floella Benjamin is someone who plants herself at the gates of hope. She lifts people. There is nothing cynical about her. She embodies what it means to live as we are capable of living. She encourages others to be the same. She embodies those famous words of Albert Schweitzer

“At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.”

“oh come you now unto the flame, keep it through the night. Shelter and embrace it’s warmth and keep it’s precious light.”

She is one of those people that lights the flame of hope in others. Is there anything more beautiful in this world. Is there anything more needed in these darkening times. It is certainly true that we are living through dark times. It is winter and we need to find those lights of hope to guide us through. It reminds of those by Victoria Safford that Parker J. Palmer shared in the earlier reading. Rev Victoria Safford serves the White Bear Unitarian Universalist Church in Saint Paul, Minnesota, USA. She said:

“Our mission is to plant ourselves at the gates of hope — not the prudent gates of Optimism, which are somewhat narrower; nor the stalwart, boring gates of Common Sense; nor the strident gates of self-righteousness, which creak on shrill and angry hinges; nor the cheerful, flimsy garden gate of “Everything is gonna be all right,” but a very different, sometimes very lonely place, the place of truth-telling, about your own soul first of all and its condition, the place of resistance and defiance, the piece of ground from which you see the world both as it is and as it could be, as it might be, as it will be; the place from which you glimpse not only struggle, but joy in the struggle — and we stand there, beckoning and calling, telling people what we are seeing, asking people what they see.

Of all the virtues, “hope” is one of the most-needed in our time. When people ask me how I stay hopeful in an era of widespread darkness, I answer simply: “Hope keeps me alive and creatively engaged with the world.”

It keeps me alive and fully engaged too. It draws me on and beyond myself to live alive in this world.

To quote Vaclav Havel “Hope is an orientation of the spirit”, it is something that holds us and sustains us right here right now. It does more than that though, it draws us on, even if at times its light seems dim. It draws me out beyond myself. It helps me, plant myself at the gates of Hope.

It is “Hope” that points towards what we can do, it leads the way. Rather than just sitting there shinning light on all that is ugly and unpleasant, pointing out all that is wrong and riling up ever more anger, hate, division and blame. It saves me from slinging mud at the world. Our world does not need any more of this, not this winter.

I was reminded recently of a couple of friends who I used to name “Statler and Waldorf”. One of them is no longer in my life sadly, the other though is. To some degree I gave them the name in jest, but there is a serious point to all of this.

Now for those who don’t know “Statler and Waldorf” are two characters from Jim Henson’s “The Muppet Show”. The pair don’t really participate in the show and instead sit on the balcony heckling the rest of the characters who are trying to create the show. They are archetypes for all of us who sit back, pour scorn and criticise the efforts of others to do the best that they can. It’s so easy to do this is it not; it is so easy to just to sit back and criticise the best efforts of others while doing nothing ourselves.

Increasingly we seem intent on fault finding and discovering the imperfections in one another. Why do we do this? Do we believe it will help us feel better about ourselves if we pour scorn on the imperfections of others? Maybe, maybe not?!? It is easy to be the critic and shine light on what is wrong, anyone can do that. It is much harder to shine some light in the darkness and show a different way.

The critic is someone who stands at the side taking pot shots at the people who have the courage to stand above the parapet and give themselves to life, to plant themselves at the gates of Hope.

In “The Heart of the Enlightened” Anthony De Mello tells the following story.

“A woman complained to a visiting friend that her neighbour was a poor housekeeper. “You should see how dirty her children are – and her house. It is almost a disgrace to be living in the same neighbourhood as her. Take a look at those clothes she has hung out on the line. See the black streaks on the sheets and towels!”

The friend walked up to the window and said, “I think the clothes are quite clean, my dear. The streaks are on your window.”

This story brings to mind a passage from Matthew’s Gospel (ch 7 vv 1- 12) “Why do you see the speck in your neighbours eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye.” It easy to pass judgement and to find fault in others but is that what our task is? To tear apart everyone else and to point out where they are going wrong? Or is it to make the most of who we are not only for ourselves but for the good of all. Is our task to be the critic who picks apart what others do or is it to contribute to life in whatever ways we can? I for one no longer wish to choose the path of lazy cynicism and criticism. I’d much rather do what I can and risk getting shot down. I would much rather plant myself at the gates of Hope.

It is easy to sling mud, to be a cynic, to highlight all that is wrong. It is harder to plant ourselves at the gates of Hope. To lift others up, to encourage, to live wholly from love. To live like Floella Benjamin.

As you probably know I love dogs. My little dog Molly teaches me so much. Now what you might not know is that there is a school of ancient Greek philosophy named after dogs. Do you know which one? Well, it might surprise you to hear that it was the cynics. How and why? You may well ask? Dogs do not appear to be cynical animals at all. Well, cynicism aint what is used to be.

The best known of cynics was Diogenes. Many of his habits certainly resembled an undomesticated dog. He loved basking naked on the lawn while his fellow philosophers talked on the porch. As they debated the mysteries of the cosmos, Diogenes preferred to soak up some rays.

Diogenes could be found wandering through the streets in the mid-day sun squinting and holding a lantern to find his way, claiming he was “looking for an honest man” He lived in a hollowed out half barrel which he wheeled through the streets. This was his only possession except for a wooden bowl which he destroyed in protest at the fakeness of society after seeing a boy slave drinking water with his cupped hands.

Those ancient cynics protested against society and attempted to mitigate the dangers of hubris. They believed “virtue” was the only good and that self-control was the only means of achieving it. They rejected what they saw as the falseness of the time. They rejected the luxury of home living and personal hygiene and they believed that the best way to get their message across to the general public was to verbally abuse them and expel bodily fluids on them as they went about their daily business. I suspect that the phrase “mud slinging” may have its origins in the original cynics.

The ancient Greeks “cynics” were the critics of their time and place. They pointed out what was wrong. The original “cynics” had a way of bringing the greatest down to the truly humble level, they were an antidote to the hubris of the day. Yes, they had their plus points. That said there were negatives too, it certainly was not a pathway to friendship and community building. It seemed to me to be the ultimate in isolation and individualism. Anyone can be critical of what others are doing, but what about doing something yourself? The cynics never entered the arena, no they slung mud and criticised those who did.

It is easy to be the critic who sneers and throws mud at the person who gives life an honest go, who dares to step into the arena to do good, to do what they can. It says something of our age that one of the worst things a person can be today is a so called “Do-gooder”. Since when is doing good a negative thing? Well in this cynical age it seems.

There is no real satisfaction in sneering at life, just slinging dirt or pointing out the dirt on someone else’s washing or missing the plank in your own eye for the speck in your neighbours. It is easy to be a critic. It is harder to plant ourselves at the gates of Hope. What the world needs right now is less critics and more constructors. That is not to say that we should not be critical. Any healthy society needs those who point ought what can be done better. We need to shine light in the dark places of light. The key is how we do this.

We need to bring hope, when hope is hard to find. To shine some light in darkness of winter. Of all the virtues, “hope” is one of the most-needed in our time. It is Hope that, to quote Parker J. Palmer “keeps me alive and creatively engaged with the world.” When we choose despair and cynicism over hope it is a reflection on the state of our own souls, more than a reflection on the state of the world. It serves no one and it destroys our own souls.

We need to plant ourselves at the gates of Hope.

I look for the examples, for those who shone some light, all those beautiful souls that have touched my soul, many who have gone now, many who are still here, many I have yet to meet. I remember how they lit the flame, how they lit up my heart and soul. How they planted themselves at the gates of Hope and I try and do the same.

So what are you going to do with this one marvelous life you have been given. Are you going to pour scorn, point out all that is wrong, sling dirt, or are you going to plant yourselves at the gates of Hope.

It is up to you, it up us to us all. Our lives depend upon it.

We need to plant ourselves at the gates of Hope.

This Advent season may we plant ourselves like seeds of Hope in the mangers of all our hearts. Let us nurture this this hope and when the moment of magic comes, as it always does on Christmas morning, may we give birth to that love here and now.

Let us shine light on the darkness, let us plant ourselves at the gates of hope.

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

“If the Earth were only a few feet in diameter.” By Joe Miller

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­If the Earth were only a few feet in diameter, floating a few feet above a field somewhere, people would come from everywhere to marvel at it. People would walk around it marvelling at its big pools of water, its little pools and the water flowing between. People would marvel at the bumps on it and the holes in it. They would marvel at the very thin layer of gas surrounding it and the water suspended in the gas. The people would marvel at all the creatures walking around the surface of the ball and at the creatures in the water. The people would declare it as sacred, because it was the only one, and they would protect it so that it would not be hurt. The ball would be the greatest wonder known, and people would come to pray to it, to be healed, to gain knowledge, to know beauty and to wonder how it could be. People would love it and defend it with their lives because they would somehow know that their lives could be nothing without it.

If the Earth were only a few feet in diameter.

Eureka! I’ve got it! I’ve discovered the key to it all! Hard to believe I know. I heard it several times this week. I have the answer to it all. Do you know what it is? Can you guess?

The answer is “Humidity”

Yes, I know it doesn’t sound right, but it came from two of the oracles I know.

One is my friend Robbie’s son Rew. He is a gifted footballer and has recently signed junior forms for Stoke City. His dad asked him how he felt about this and he said he felt “humid”. A strange response you might think. What he meant was humbled.

I was involved in a wonderful conversation on Monday on the subject of humility. How in so many ways it is the key to living spiritually alive. It keeps us grounded, reminds us of finiteness. A friend shared something deeply humble about a struggle she had experienced a few days early. She showed her humanity in her vulnerability. She expressed a deep faith. She also said that that she too sometimes confused the word humility with humidity. She is a wonderful and funny human being, an example to those of us who think we are oh so clever.

I have enjoyed some fascinating and wonderful conversations with a variety of human beings all week. Funny ones too. It has lifted my heart and my spirits at times. Needed too as I heard of the loss of another old friend from back home. It seems to be every week at the moment. Despite what is sometimes said of us, we are a marvel we human beings.

It is an incredible thing to be human, we are fascinating creatures. Even the word human itself is a fascination, or at least it is to me. The word human is formed from the same root as humility, possibily humanity’s greatest attribute. Did you also know that it is closely related to humus and exhume. It makes sense if you think about it.

The root for all of these words is “hum” which originally referred to the earth or dirt. Our earliest forbears perceived that we humans originated from the soil – you would think that this would keep us grounded, but seemingly not - this is made clear in the second creation story found in Genesis II which reads “And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life” Adam itself is closely related to the word “toadamah” which means soil or earth. There are other ancient creation stories too which associate the origin of humankind with soil or ground. Such as the Sumerian myth of Marduk who created people by killing Qingu and mixing his blood with clay. Or the Greek myths of Decallion and Pyrrha who by throwing rocks over their shoulders created man and woman.

Now while each of us is formed from the same substance we are also all unique. We all have our own unique characteristics. We each of us have our own personalities, our own finger prints, our own DNA. We also have our own faces. No two faces are exactly alike.

Even identical twins can begin to look different over time as life has its impact on us. They are exactly the same and yet they are unique individuals.

I love what Abraham Joshua Heschel said about “A Face”

“A human being has not only a body but also a face. A face cannot be grafted or interchanged. A face is a message, a face speaks, often unbeknown to the person. Is not the human face a living mixture of mystery and meaning? We are all able to see it, and are all unable to describe it. Is it not a strange marvel that among so many hundreds of millions of faces, no two faces are alike? And that no face remains quite the same for more than one instant? The most exposed part of the body, it is the least describable, a synonym for an incarnation of uniqueness. Can we look at a face as if it were a commonplace?”

“Can we look at a face as if it were a commonplace?”

I’ve never been a good liar, never had a poker face. There are advantages and disadvantages to this. My face hides nothing. A person can tell exactly how I am feeling by looking at my face, but then you already know this don’t you. I remember once being asked if I was comedian. I said no to which the man said “Well you have a comedians face.” In fact it has been said again this week. I’m not sure what he meant by this, but I take it as a compliment. I think, apparently I looked like a les Dawson character. I know I have a very descriptive face.

Now going back to etymology and the word human. It has often been incorrectly believed that word humour also shares its root with humanity and humility. Now it would be great if it was, but alas this is not true.

As I’ve pointed out before humour is actually derived from a medieval medical term for fluids of the human body. It is has its roots the ‘old’ French word ‘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. I do so love etymology; language has had such a fascinating journey.

This though doesn’t sound particularly funny though does it?

I do so wish that humour, humility, humus and humanity were etymologically linked. Why? Well because in so many ways one of humanities greatest attributes is our sense of humour. It helps us deal with the pain and suffering that accompany life. It is very difficult to take yourself too seriously when you are laughing at yourself. There was a period in my life when I lost the ability to laugh. It was a sure sign that I had got lost in myself, had begun to reject life. These days I laugh often.

We humans, we creatures formed from the earth, cannot live without humour, just as a plant cannot grow from the soil without the essential ingredient of water.

There a few classic gold moments last Sunday evening when Rob, Robbie and myself went to see New Model Army. Some of which I can’t repeat here. There was even a bit of a “Only Fools and Horses” moment as the three of us ran for the tram. We were laughing at ourselves afterwards. We were in good humour, in good health. Although we are not actually it seems. Not by the state of us after running for the tram.

I’ve been full of songs all week, been great for my soul as I’ve connected with a love. It’s also connected me to old friends, many who are no longer with us.

I’ve been filled with awe at it all, of life itself. Of the generally giftedness of being here at all. It’s been an awful week, in the sense it has been filled with awe. I’ve been thinking of an old New Model Army song “Space” from the album “Purity” It paints a picture of being out lost in the wilds. There are Biblical references in the song, of Moses receiving instructions in the wilderness, the 40 years of being lost in the desert and Jesus’ temptations following his baptism and his 40 days in the desert. At the heart of the song is this image of looking down at the world from a great height, remote and separate but in utter awe. Towards the end of the song is a spoken word segment. They are well known words from the astronaut Thomas Stafford as he looked down at the earth while orbiting from space:

"The white twisted clouds and the endless shades of blue in the ocean
make the hum of the spacecraft systems, the radio chatter, even your
own breathing disappear. There is no cold or wind or smell to tell you
that you are connected to Earth.

You have an almost dispassionate platform - remote, Olympian and yet so moving that you can hardly believe how emotionally attached you are to those rough patterns shifting steadily below."

Thomas Stafford Apollo 10.

I can only imagine what Thomas Stafford must have felt as he orbited the earth. Very few of us will ever experience that sense of total physical disconnection from our home, the earth. Yet from this distance Stafford began to appreciate that from which he came. From space he looked on the earth in awe, not wonder, awe. Although he was physically disconnected, his soul appeared completely connected to what he was gazing upon, it shut out all the noises of his spacecraft and even his own breath. Staring down at the earth, took his breath away. It must have been an incredibly beautiful and yet in some sense frightening experience. To me this is worship, this sense of connection that moves way beyond the confines of the physical. It must have humbled him, reminded him that he was human and just a speck of almost nothingness and yet utterly alive. What an awe filled experience.

We often hear about the need to develop a sense of wonder, in order to give life meaning. I do not believe that this is enough. What is required is a reawakening of our sense of awe. Awe and wonder are not exactly the same, although the words do appear to be used interchangeably. They both possess an element of surprise or even astonishment about them; they both grab our attention and focus completely; they both awaken our senses. Awe though is different to wonder, there is more to it, this is because it possesses an element of fear and reverence. It is perhaps best described as revered wonder with a sense of fear or trepidation blended in. Wonder opens the senses, where as awe brings them to a different level of being. There is a greater power in awe, than in wonder. It is almost overpowering, over whelming.

I remember once talking with a mother who described the birth of her daughter as the most awful experience of her life. I was a little taken aback by the use of the phrase awful, it didn’t seem right. Then she explained! At the first sight of her daughter she was just full of awe, not wonder awe! She was blown away, by this tiny presence right before her eyes, that she loved, revered and worshipped. She described the feeling as over powering and to some extent frightening. It was truly awful, it was full of awe. It humbled her too, it changed her humanity. Her life was transformed in that moment.

Isn’t it strange how awful is understood negatively, where as wonderful has only positive connotations. I suspect that this is because we fear that sense of being out of control that accompanies awe. We do not like to experience powerlessness; we like to believe we are masters of our destiny, masters of the universe. We are not, life is fragile. That’s what makes every moment, every experience, potentially awesome.

The last 18 months have really connected me to this is powerful ways. They have humbled me, they have left me in awe. Thankfully humour has restored me to sanity too. I was out with friends the other day just talking through a few things. They were concerned I was ok I think. When I got back one messaged me “ It read that’s what good friends are for “The don’t tell when you flies are down” Now I thought that they were talking about me as I noticed my were down when I got home. No, they were referring to themselves. We all had a good chuckle at this. The humour connected to our humanity, it was awful.

What an awful experience, that once again humbled me, brought a smile to my face and we connected is good humour. I reckon we are both in decent health.

I’m going to end today with a bit of Kurt Vonneghut. There is humour, there humility and humanity and there is awe too in this little tale. It is from “Cat’s Cradle”. It is a play of those old creation stories, I mentioned earlier:

“God made mud.
God got lonesome.
So God said to some of the mud, "Sit up!"
"See all I've made," said God, "the hills, the sea, the
sky, the stars."
And I was some of the mud that got to sit up and look
around.
Lucky me, lucky mud.
I, mud, sat up and saw what a nice job God had done.
Nice going, God.
Nobody but you could have done it, God! I certainly
couldn't have.
I feel very unimportant compared to You.
The only way I can feel the least bit important is to
think of all the mud that didn't even get to sit up and
look around.
I got so much, and most mud got so little.
Thank you for the honor!
Now mud lies down again and goes to sleep.
What memories for mud to have!
What interesting other kinds of sitting-up mud I met!
I loved everything I saw!
Good night.
I will go to heaven now.
I can hardly wait...
To find out for certain what my wampeter was...
And who was in my karass...
And all the good things our karass did for you.

Amen.”

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