From Nothing to Everything, from Despair to Hope: What Makes You Want To Sing Alleluia

Happy Easter

Easter begins in emptiness and despair. In the example from Mark, the three women go to the tomb and find it empty. They are told Jesus has been raised and to go tell the disciples. They flee in amazement and terror, they tremble in awe. They are in utter despair. The despair soon turns to hope, a new hope, a fresh hope, respair. This is the message at the heart of Easter. This is what folk sing praises to. That new hope can be born again, even in the bleakest of despair. That said it is up to us to bring that hope to life.

I woke up exhausted on Tuesday morning. I spent some time with friends I sit in meditation with regularly. We shared together and I began to feel a little revived. I was tired after the annual meetings and looked ahead at the things I have to do in the next 10 days. I wondered how am going to find the strength to come through all this. I had a few personal troubles too. The loss of one of my oldest friends and another friend who was really struggling. I began to work on the tasks of the week. Another friend called who is also grieving, part of me didn’t want to take the call, but I did. He began to off-load and share his struggles and then asked me about my stuff. For once I told him. It was interesting what came out, including my struggles to uncover what to explore this Easter. As we spoke clarity came, as did human connection. There was something beautiful in the connection. I shared about a hilarious conversation I had with some young new and student ministers I had been engaged with at the annual meetings. We moved onto conversations about the difficulties one can face in expressing ourselves. A little later I went out again on a pastoral call. Interestingly in this conversation I spoke much more about myself than I would normally. The person I visited wanted to know things about me, and asked directly. Again, it was a lovely conversation. We both shared about our lives. Those dark moments, those times of renewal and re-birth, of discovering new things, of coming out of the empty cave of unknowing, to be born into new light and life once again.

I returned home and got down to trying to write this sermon, I had made a start when there was a knock at the door. It was the man who had come to read the chapel gas meters. Molly and me let him in the cellar. As he stepped out of the darkness of the cellar he began to ask me questions about the chapel and Easter. He then began to tell me about himself and his own beliefs. He called himself a cafeteria Catholic. He told me about his heritage and what he thought about resurrection and Easter. He preached me a wonderful Universalist Easter sermon. I invited him to take the service this Sunday, but he didn’t turn up. I left and smiled and then returned to writing the sermon. I thought about all three conversations and I sang songs of Hallelujah. I sang a song of praise for that spirit that moves through us as I stood in the chapel gardens surrounded by the pink cherry blossom, that had already fallen.

I then began to think about Easter. How do I speak about Easter? What do I think of Easter? What does Easter mean to me? Well as with everything you should start at the beginning. Easter begins in grief, in emptiness. Something I was actually experiencing as I sat down to write. Something that had been on backburner these last few days, as I had been caught up in my work, and been away with many folk at our annual meetings.

There is something deeply universal about Easter. There is something in its spirit that can speak to all people in every culture at every time and in every place. It points to those moments in all our lives when something deeper within us comes to life, or perhaps it comes back to life. If we truly enter into what is at the core of Easter, its spirit, it can bring us to a deeper understanding of life right here, right now, in our world. I thought of this as I looked at the life so alive in the chapel gardens, as well as those many conversations I had had with folk, folk in grief and suffering, who are coming back to life. All examples of Love born again from that empty tomb.

I thought about what Tony (The gas man) had spoken of, about resurrection and what he believes lives on. It is possible to celebrate Easter without having to believe in the actual resurrection of the body of Jesus, which is of course the traditional Christian view. The early followers of Jesus believed a variety of things. You can believe in Easter without having to accept the uniqueness of Jesus’ resurrection. You see there is something deeply universal in the spirit of Easter that has the capacity to awaken everyone’s spirit regardless of whether or not they believe every aspect of the Gospel accounts.

Easter can also be understood as the festival of the renewal of life that comes at springtime; Easter can be seen as the resurrection of the earth after the seeming death of winter. These last few weeks you surely have felt powerfully this deep sense of the renewal of life. The other evening I could both feel and smell this powerfully in the air. There is a real electricity in the air at springtime. Now of course the renewal of the seasons is recognised in the pre-Christian roots of our Easter celebrations. According to the Venerable Beed the word Easter is after all derived from “Eostre” the Anglo-Saxon Goddess of spring; the goddess of fertility and renewal.

The Easter “mythos” can also be seen as the triumph of the human spirit, over all that would crush it, even death itself. This triumph also has pre-Christian roots, such as the Jewish “Passover” which of course Jesus and his disciples were commemorating on what has become known as Maundy Thursday. In Latin speaking countries Easter is known as “Pascha” or similar words that are derived directly from “Pesach”. Easter isn’t even called Easter in many parts of the world. The root of Easter lies in the Jewish festival of Passover. Remember that Jesus was a Jewish Rabbi who wanted to bring the religion back to the people. In the eyes of those who followed him, he was the Messiah. This is why they cried Hossanah as he entered the city at the beginning of the week. Last Sunday was Passover.

Jesus’ resurrection is a powerful example of love overcoming death; a perfect example of the spirit of love living on even after physical death. I think it is impossible to argue that the spirit that was in Jesus did not live on after his bodily death. The spirit of love that incarnated in his life has survived all that we have done to it these last 2,000 years as we have remembered him, rather badly.

All love lives on, again something Tony (the gas ma) spoke passionately about. All we have to do to bring it once again to life is remember those who have touched our hearts and souls. What has been bound into one another’s hearts cannot be unbound. Love is stronger than death. This for me, above everything else, is the universal “mythos” that is at the root of Easter. A festival for everyone.

I awoke on Wednesday morning in a new spirit. I had to go into Manchester first thing, as I had to sign something legal, for a dear friend who is herself grieving the loss of her beloved dog. I saw things differently as I headed out. I enjoyed the pink snow covering the gardens. My eyes felt raised up once again, I saw new vision, new hope, not expectation or optimism, but new hope, fresh hope, “Respair”. I realised that my eyes had been a bit down recently. I knew it was grief, a grief I had not been fully aware of up to then. As I travelled home on the tram, a lovely poem “Vision” by May Thielgaard Watts, came to me.

"Vision" by May Thielgaard Watts

To-day there have been lovely things
I never saw before;
Sunlight through a jar of marmalade;
A blue gate;
A rainbow
In soapsuds on dishwater;
Candlelight on butter;
The crinkled smile of a little girl
Who had new shoes with tassels;
A chickadee on a thorn-apple;
Empurpled mud under a willow,
Where white geese slept;
White ruffled curtains sifting moonlight
On the scrubbed kitchen floor;
The under side of a white-oak leaf;
Ruts in the road at sunset;
An egg yolk in a blue bowl.

My love kissed my eyes last night.

Isn't it lovely. Now the ears of my ears are awake. Now the eyes of my eyes are open.

When we live in heart, in courage, in love, we can see these signs of hope everywhere. It comes in the little things.

All we have to do is keep our senses open, in order to see these things. It begins with our hearts and souls.

Today is Easter, let us rejoice and be glad; let us celebrate the joy that is this day whatever it may mean to us. For no matter the conditions of our lives, the state of our hearts. The lives of those dear to us and the struggles in this our shared world, the spirit of Easter can be born again and anew, in our hearts and lives. Life continues. Spring is here, the new life cannot be denied. Easter is here, let us rejoice and sing Hallelujah!!!

And what is Easter? Well it is different, perhaps unique for each and every one of us. What makes you want to rise up and sing Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah?

What is your song, the one that makes you want to feel like you belong. I was lovingly listening to the new bird song on Wednesday, it made me want to sing hallelujah.

I believe that each of us have a song in our hearts, that will bring us hope when hope is hard to find. We need to find a way to learn it, sing it and share it and thus help one another through those dark times, to times of love and joy, so we can enjoy the milk and honey. So that we can bring the spirit of Easter alive in us and through us.

For we all experience alleluia moments, isn’t this the heart of Easter; We all have alleluias in our lives, those moments of triumph and wonder, of insight and rebirth; we all have alleluia’s, those moments of transformation, when our way of being in the world is fundamentally changed; alleluia moments when we are strengthened and life is deepened; alleluia moments when we feel more connected, more whole; we all have moments when we want to sing alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.

That said there cannot be Easter without Good Friday. Hope is born from Despair. Easter begins with an empty tomb and fear. It is often the same with all life, this is the universal message of Easter. Sometimes our most profound transformations emerge out of the loss we face in life. This may be the empty hole left by grief, at the loss of a beloved, something so many are facing. Or it may be one of those thousands of lesser losses we experience in life. All forms of grief are barren, empty places. They can feel utterly God-forsaken, where all hope is gone, that leave us in sorrow and suffering not singing songs of alleluia, but instead singing song of lamentation.

This though is not the end. Feeling forsaken is not the same as being forsaken. The message of Easter is that love triumphs over death. That new life is born again, like those spring buds of hope, or the poppy born out of the battlefields of the First World War. Hope is born once again from the despair, just as life continues on into this awakening Spring. The Cherry blossom has been and almost gone, but it will return once again.

The Universal message of Easter is the power of love coming back to life, transforming in new and wonderful ways. It can happen at any time in our lives. Easter implores us to live, to allow the renewal and resurrection of our souls, to risk living life alive, fully alive, to love abundantly. To risk our hearts in love. To take the seeds that are planted in us, water and nurture them until they blossom and can be handed to another. To take the gift of blossoms and warm them with the sunshine of our souls and the rain of our energy, until they bring forth fruit.

Easter begins with an empty tomb, but that ending is just another beginning. Life continues on, in fact new life is born again in the emptiness and the loneliness and the despair.

So let us roll our own stones away and let love once again incarnate in our lives...In all that we feel, all that we think, all that we say and all that we do...

Happy Easter, Alleluia, Alleluia.

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

The Hill’s are Alive with the Sound of Music: Universalism Inspired Oscar Hammerstein

A friend of mine sent me a message the other day stating “I’ve never been called a nerd before, I quite like it”. She had been gently teased earlier in the day as she had been showing a group of us an app on her phone showing the number of inclines in the Peak District she had recently climbed and all the ones she has yet to climb. She seemed so thrilled with this. She has in recent times taken to going off on her own on long country walks, buying maps and all sorts of things. She is having a ball and it is wonderful to see such enthusiasm for life. I replied to her message “Climb every mountain”. I meant both metaphorically and literally. I am sure she will give it a go. Later in the week she told me “15 since mid February, so another 80 to go!!!! I’m so nerdy (nerdy these days instead of needy). She later informed me that these little hill's are named "Ethel's". Named after "Ethel Mary Bassett Haythornthwaite (née Ward) MBE (18 January 1894 – 11 April 1986), who was an English environmental campaigner, activist and poet.[1][2] She was a pioneer of countryside protection as well as town and country planning both locally and nationally."

“Climb every mountain” has been on my mind these last few days. I was smiling and singing it as I drove between Urmston and Altrincham last Sunday. The seed had been planted by John Poskitt and Graham Harrison who had heard reference to Oscar Hammerstein II’s childhood and upbringing at what was described as a Unitarian Sunday school in New York and how this was a great influence on his life and work. So, this week I’ve been climbing every mountain myself and explored Hammerstein and the influence of Universalism, a faith based on hope, exemplified in songs such as “Climb every mountain” “You’ll never walk alone”, “Cockeyed optimist”.

Here is an example of religious influences in the following quote by Hammerstein

“In art the goodness of the human spirit must be fighting for its life. People must leave the theatre the church, or the lecture hall, with a deeper faith and higher interest in human kind, than they brought in with them”.

His optimism grew from his sense in the joy of living. He engaged with what was beautiful in the world and encouraged those who engaged with him to see it too. He was not denying the troubles of life, just pointing to life’s beauty. He sang the joy of living in all its mystery. In so doing he was preaching the Gospel of Hope, the Universalism of his childhood.

Again as he wrote:

“I know the world is filled with troubles and many injustices. But reality is as beautiful as it is ugly. I think it is just as important to sing about beautiful mornings as it is to talk about slums. I just couldn't write anything without hope in it.”

Or in this song from “Oaklahoma

Oh, what a beautiful mornin',
Oh, what a beautiful day.
I got a beautiful feelin'
Ev'erything's goin' my way.

Hammerstein’s father was from a Jewish family and was prominent in New York theatre. His mother was from a British liberal protestant family, I suspect Unitarian. As a child he attended “The Church of the Divine Paternity” in New York. This is now the Fourth Universalist Society in the City of New York and part of the Unitarian Universalist denomination. The Unitarians and Universalist became one denomination in the 1960’s not long after Hammerstein’s death due to stomach cancer.

He carried his spirit of Universalism with him throughout his life and work. It was how he engaged with life. Foundational to him was the following “The Fatherhood of God, the brotherhood of man and salvation by character”. Now of course this is old fashioned language today, man in those days meant every human being, not just males. The God of love that he believed in, loved all equally. You will find Universalist themes throughout Hammerstein’s lyrics; themes such as hope, compassion and the potential for human goodness, were threaded throughout the lyrics of Oklahoma, Carousel, South Pacific and the King and I. It is incredible to think that this joy filled musical theatre was some of the most powerful social commentary of its time.

Just think of the following from “South Pacific” reflecting on the internalised racism of Lt Cable and Nellie

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

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

Hammerstein’s work revealed his Universalism so beautifully; these musicals are a wonderful exploration of his theological depth. In his work you see the Universalists belief in the possibility for change, for hope, for human progress. You see God at the heart of this, a loving God who accepts all, a Divine Unity; you see the possibility for redemption and the restoration of the soul, as well as his belief in the social Gospel and in the assertion of human unity. Perhaps we ought to re-examine some of these musicals in these divisive times. They are filled with joy too, something we all need.

Hammerstein was hope filled, he believed in the God of love and that this love is what ought to be at the heart of what we do. He wrote constantly about love, in its many and varied forms. He also sang about never losing sight of what is wholesome and beautiful in this world. Something I’ve focused on much in recent weeks. As my friend has as she’s been climbing every mountain. The hills are alive with the sound of music. May it fill all our hearts.

Hammerstein faith was about how we engage with this world. It was a conversation fuelled by hope and possibility and beauty, despite the very real troubles we all face. It is important how we face and greet life. The conversations we have with life and the conversations life has with us.

Another friend sent me a message this week. She had been reading a book I gave to her as a present several years ago. It was a funny exploration around the origins of words. The book is “The Etymologicon” by Mark Forsyth

The word was “Ciao”, a greeting that has become universal through the world over the last hundred years. It came from an old Venetia dialect word “S’Ciao” which was translated as “I am your slave”. Clearly it has rather unpleasant origins. That said in time this meaning evolved to mean “I’m at your service” or “I am here for you if you need me”. So, “Ciao” became a way to express deep respect, loyalty and trust. It became a universal phrase that encompassed everyone in spite of social standing. It was a greeting that expressed deep devotion and love. Maybe Oscar Hammerstein ought to have turned it into a song. I would love to sing it, “Ciao baby!”

I received another message from another friend this week. She is back home visiting family in Transylvania. It brought to my mind those beautiful and soulful people and their lovely phrase, which like “ciao” is both a greeting and a way of saying goodbye. The phrase being “Isten aldjon”, meaning “God bless”. I love that both “ciao” and “Isten aldjon” are ways of saying hello and waving goodbye. There is something loving, respectful and beautiful about them. They are lovely ways of beginning and ending a conversation. It matters how we greet the world and how the world greets us.

As I have lived through this week I have been noticing how I engage with people and life. What my conversation with everything is and its conversation with me. Like the spring weather it has been ever changing. Sometimes four seasons in one day.

The poet philosopher and former marine zoologist David Whyte sees our lives as focused on what he calls "the great conversation" we have with ourselves and the great mysteries of life which surround us. He calls this “the conversational nature of reality.” Like Whyte I have come to believe that the essence of any real conversation is attention. It is about paying attention to that space where we meet life and life meets us, I suspect that it is in this space that God truly comes to life, or at least this is what my experiences teach me. This is a song I love to sing, the joy of living in all its mystery.

I love the way that David describes the conversational nature of reality, that we are constantly in conversation, whether we are speaking or not, so long as we are alive, awake and fully engaged.

This is beautifully illustrated in his poem “Everything Is Waiting for You?”

After Derek Mahon

Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone. As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice. You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.

Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into the
conversation. The kettle is singing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you.

I love the way that Whyte, through is words, encourages us to “feel the grand array; the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding out your solo voice.” He insists that the frontier of this profound reality of the world can be and is found in “the intimacy of your surroundings,” in “the way the soap dish enables you, or the window latch grants you freedom.” The key is in this line. That, “Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.” That it is about being alive to everything and allowing everything to be alive to you. This is more than just being mindful, it is about being in conversation with everything and everything with you; with everything in you and you in everything.

Everything is waiting for you. Everything is waiting for all of us. The conversation is reality. The beauty and profound nature of reality is everywhere, in everything, even the kettle boiling as you make that cup of tea for a guest. All we have to do is bring our attentiveness to the frontier between self and the rest of creation, and then enter into conversation with it. We must come out of abstraction and back into the world.

The spiritual life is about living more spiritually alive, in this life. It is about increasing our sensitivity to life itself. It is about being increasingly affected and then becoming more effective in life.

I have come to understand that at its core the spiritual life is about relationships; relationships with life, with each other, with ourselves and with God, whatever we understand God to be. And how do relationships develop? Well through conversation, through sharing ourselves with each other, not by losing ourselves, but becoming ourselves through our conversations with the other, lower and upper case. We relate through conversation and thus we grow spiritually, through relationship.

We have to believe we belong here of course, that we do not reject our humanity. Everything is waiting for us. More than that everything needs us to engage in the conversation of life. Life needs all of us. Everything is waiting for us.

Everything is waiting for us.

So I invite you to join with me in the conversational nature of reality.

When you walk through a storm
Keep your chin up high
And don’t be afraid of the dark.

At the end of the storm
Is a golden sky
And the sweet, silver song of a lark.

Walk on through the wind,
Walk on through the rain,
Though your dreams be tossed and blown.

Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart,
And you’ll never walk alone!

You’ll never walk alone.

Life is alive all around us and within us. We are part of it, and we play a crucial role within it. May the love that is God come alive with in us. Let’s climb every mountain, who knows what we will find at the summit.

For the hill’s are alive with the sound of music.

My heart wants to beat
Like the wings of the birds that rise
From the lake to the trees.
My heart wants to sigh
Like a chime that flies
From a church on a breeze,

To laugh like a brook
When it trips and falls
Over stones in its way,
To sing through the night
Like a lark who is learning to pray!

I go to the hills
When my heart is lonely;
I know I will hear
What I’ve heard before—
My heart will be blessed
With the sound of music,
And I’ll sing once more.

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

The Shyness of Spring: Beauty Awakens Slowly, But Surely

“Beauty Is Our Birthright” by Rebekah Savage

Sometimes we awake in the morning with a heaviness in our chest.
Sometimes we awake in the morning with the endless to-do list rattling through our thoughts, the nagging reminders of what was left undone yesterday,
and the pangs of “I have to do it all again today?” pinching at our insides.
Sometimes we awake in the morning, and we’d rather go back to sleep,
We would rather escape under the covers, a rock, the bottom of the closet.

And then,
The first sliver of sunshine may dance across our face. Beautiful.
And then,
The wafting scent of a new day may glide over us. Beautiful.
And then,
Signs of life blossom around us, to include inside of us. Beautiful.

Beauty is our birthright. Just as we are born in love, through love To love;
To nurture beauty is to return to our essence,
To touch, taste and experience creation as beautiful,
As the fragile, wonderful and wild interdependence with the Spirit of Life,
that which is so much greater than ourselves.

May beauty wrap and delight us, and guide our way.
May beauty be yours now and forever.

Amen and ashe.

As is often the case I woke up on Monday morning feeling tired. I could see a busy week ahead. On top of that I was wondering what to explore this week. It is a familiar feeling. Sunday does take a lot from me. I arose on Monday engaged in my usual morning rituals and stepped out into the world, and headed for the park with Molly. We walked around and took in the natural beauty. It was a beautiful blue morning. The blue sky and the green grass are good for the human soul, it awakens us, or maybe it awakens something within us. I felt it deeply that morning. As Molly played and we wandered round I noticed the other colours of the Spring flowers emerging. They emerge slowly almost one after the other, new colours each new week.

“One thing I love about Spring is its shyness. How the new life slowly emerges. How it allows us to adjust to its beauty. Every day something new to discover. A sight, a sound, a colour. An awakening feast for the senses. May you open to it slowly, but surely.”

As I returned home I typed those words as a morning blessing to friends. Why do we call this time Spring? It doesn’t just suddenly spring to life. Yes, I know it comes from an old English word “Springan”, which meant to leap, or burst forth, fly up, spread or grow. Think of water bursting forth from a spring. The season and the awakening fo the new flowers and life during spring time, doesn’t just burst froth though and suddenly appear, it comes slowly and surely, it comes faithfully. Most folk are impatient for it to burst forth, but it pays no attention to our cries. It does come though. It has being doing so all week. The blue sky, the green grass and all the new colours, bringing forth life and blessing us with its beauty. All we have to do is open our eyes to it.

By the way a friend responded to my question by stating “It doesn’t sound right if we rename it creeping”. She does have a point.

I have been enjoying the emerging beauty of spring all week. This is not to say I am ignoring what is troubled within me, my community and my world. I am not closing my senses to anything, I am just ensuring my senses are also open to what is good and beautiful. I am living with open eyes and an open heart and an open soul. “Let beauty awake, for beauty’s sake.”

Spring begins tentatively, but it advances with tenacity. All the new life touches me deeply. No matter how small and delicate the roots are they insist on coming to life; they insist on their way as they press up through ground that looked, only a few weeks earlier, as if it would never grow anything again. The crocuses and snowdrops don’t bloom for long. But their mere appearance, however brief, is always a harbinger of hope and from those small beginnings, hope grows at a geometric rate. The days get longer, the winds get warmer, and the world grows green again. Followed by a feast of flowers and blossoms.

This brings to my heart the wonderful poem “Metamorphosis” by May Sarton; a poem about transformation during springtime.

“Metamorphosis” by May Sarton

Always it happens when we are not there —
The tree leaps up alive in the air,
Small open parasols of Chinese green
Wave on each twig. But who has ever seen
The latch sprung, the bud as it burst?
Spring always manages to get there first.

Lovers of wind, who will have been aware
Of a faint stirring in the empty air,
Look up one day through a dissolving screen
To find no star, but this multiplied green,
Shadow on shadow, singing sweet and clear.
Listen, lovers of wind, the leaves are here!

On Sunday mornings, as soon as I arrive at Urmston, I always take Molly out for a walk. As we did this Sunday I noticed my first Cherry Blossom of the year. I took a picture. I always notice the Cherry Blossom in Urmston before I do so in Altrincham. Is there anything more beautiful. Their beauty in many ways comes from how short lived their blooming is. The cherry blossom is at its most beautiful about a week after its full bloom, when half of the pink snow covers the ground. The beauty of the Cherry blossom is in both its impermanence and imperfection; at its most beautiful when their season is half complete, or at least in the eye of this beholder.

I posted the picture and began my yearly ritual of inviting friends to share their pictures of the Cherry blossom with me and other friends. I was obviously distracted as I dropped my glasses case. I realised later and thought I must have lost it forever. Well not so. I returned to Urmston the on Tuesday, walked Molly round the block and just as I was putting her poo bag in the bin, there was my glasses case lying there in the ground. I’m glad my eyes were open on Tuesday morning. I then returned to the church and engaged in a beautiful conversation with some of the congregation in our “Common Search for Meaning” group.

I returned back to Altrincham, Molly me went for a walk, and this time I noticed the cherry Blossom in Stamford park. We walked, Molly played and I engaged in some beautiful conversations, some of joy and a couple of grief and sadness. I walked with open and eyes, an open heart and open senses, including the sixth sense.

Here is a link to "Spring Watch" episode on "Cherry Blossom" and it's beauty in Japan. it is an annual festival, spiritual in nature. It is incredible Springwatch in Japan: Cherry Blossom Time  

It is important to recognise the beauty in the world, despite the very real troubles of our personal lives, our community and the wider world. There is so much that is beautiful in this world, in this life, in each other and it is important to notice it and to share what you see. This is why I love poetry; I love the way that gifted poets see what is beautiful, capture it with words and share in such a beautiful way that it awakens something in our hearts.

Here is a lovely example; here William Stafford beautifully depicts that the world is more that the troubles we see. that there is a very real world of nature that stretches from the cells of all our bodies to all forms of life that surrounds us, that we are part of this incredible thing that is life.

“Time for Serenity, Anyone?” by William Stafford

I like to live in the sound of water,
in the feel of mountain air. A sharp
reminder hits me: this world still is alive;
it stretches out there shivering toward its own
creation, and I’m part of it. Even my breathing
enters into the elaborate give-and-take,
this bowing to sun and moon, day or night,
winter, summer, storm, still—this tranquil
chaos that seems to be going somewhere.
This wilderness with a great peacefulness in it.
This motionless turmoil, this everything dance.

As I walk in beauty I take in the natural world all around me. I remember that “this world is still alive” and it is alive in me and I need to feel this aliveness, in order to live fully in this world. It is one way that I connect to the beautiful power that I call God, it is not the only way, but is one way. As I look at the blooming flowers and the cherry blossom I am reminded of its impermanence, that it does not last for ever, but is part of the ever changing cycle of life and existence. Yes, this world can be difficult and painful at times, but that even these troubles do not last forever. I live in, by and through hope. I walk in hope as well as beauty. I know that the better world I dream of is possible, if I didn’t I wouldn’t be a minister of faith. I may not always see the fruits, but I do from time to time. As I walk in beauty and hope I see beauty and new life all around me. If lifts my heart and inspires my soul.

We have just past the Spring Equinox, last Thursday 20th, the day when light and dark are in balance. It happens twice a year both in Autumn and Spring. Equinox means “equal night”. So now there will be more light than dark, may our eyes be open to it. May we live with open eyes.

Anyone can walk around pointing out what is wrong and ugly in the world; anyone can walk around pointing what is life denying. That is easy, it takes no effort. That said to become keenly and consistently aware of what is good, true and beautiful demands effort, consistent effort, it takes work. To do so we must open our hearts, our senses and our souls and we must keep them open. You must live with open eyes. Sometimes all you have to do is look up at the blossom above and all around you, or the little dogs playing in the park and you awaken to what is beautiful and holy. For all ground is holy ground. Shake off your shoes, shed them like Moses at the burning bush. Shed the scales from your eyes and live with open eyes. See the beauty around you, the beauty you walk in. Be inspired by it, walk in beauty, absorb it, let it fill my soul, and share it with all you meet.

When you recognise the beauty in life, you will recognise it in yourself and the people in this world. Yes, there is much wrong in this world, but there is much that is right. If you recognise this, you will walk in beauty.

I am going to end this morning with some Mary Oliver. Here is “Mindful”

“Mindful” by Mary Oliver

Every day
I see or hear
something
that more or less

kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle

in the haystack
of light.
It was what I was born for --
to look, to listen,

to lose myself
inside this soft world --
to instruct myself
over and over

in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,

the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant --
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,

the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help

but grow wise
with such teachings
as these --
the untrimmable light

of the world,
the ocean's shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?

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

Making Time for Active Empathy

I have a friend who is a therapist. She has recently been creating videos about the work she offers, particularly those who have been involved in difficult and or abusive relationships. She posted a video on seven traits of Narcissism. One trait being a lack of empathy. It got me thinking about empathy and how vital it is to human flourishing and relationships.

Empathy has been in the public consciousness in recent months. It has come under a certain amount of criticism, which personally I have found hard to fathom. There is even a phrase amongst some sections of Evangelical Christianity. The phrase being “The Sin of Empathy”. In their view of their faith “empathy” can blur what they see as right and wrong, that empathy leads to people feeling with others, rather than correcting them and empathy leads to manipulation. It is view not held by most Christians, but is one that has grown in prominence in recent years. I have heard others talk of problems with empathy too. That it can be exploited and some see it as a danger to civilisation itself. I wonder if what is being discussed is actually empathy.

So what exactly is empathy? To empathise with another is an attempt to walk in another shoes, to feel what they are feeling, to understand things from their perspective. This is not easy by the way and no one should ever pretend it is. It takes effort and is a conscious decisions that is made and practised. To empathise with another, is not necessarily to act as a result of this, but to feel with them. It is not the same as sympathy which is less intimate and a more detached response. We express sympathy for a persons situation, perhaps following a bereavement, but we may not necessarily empathise with them. Compassion is sometimes confused with empathy. Compassion though is a response to empathy or sympathy and is a desire to act in order to ease another’s suffering.

I believe that empathy is the key to true human flourishing, but it is a real challenge. At its heart is the recognition that we are all born from the same flesh and have the same spirit running through us. That everything in life is interconnected. Echoed in those words of Jesus, what you do to the least of them you do to me; echoed by the great mystic Meister Eckhart “What happens to another happens to you”. Recognised by the Buddha who advised us to “See yourself in others, then whom can you hurt?” Empathy is an orientation of the spirit. I believe that it is key to reaching our highest human potential and the key to civilisation. It is the lack of empathy in seeing others as different that is a threat to human flourishing. As Hannah Arendt observed “The death of human empathy is one of the earliest and most telling signs of a culture falling into barbarism”. I think at the heart of human brutality is the failure to recognise the common humanity of another. At the heart of this is a lack of empathy. If we have no empathy we cannot live with compassion and or mercy.

I would like to share with you a short poem by the wonderful farmer poet Wendell Berry “If we have no compassion”

“If we have no compassion,” by Wendell Berry

If we have become a people incapable of thought,
then the brute-thought
of mere power and mere greed
will think for us.

If we have become incapable
of denying ourselves anything,
then all that we have
will be taken from us.

If we have no compassion,
we will suffer alone, we will suffer
alone the destruction of ourselves.

these are merely the laws of this world
as known to Shakespeare, as known to Milton.

When we cease from human thought,
a low and effective cunning
stirs in the most inhuman minds.

Back to “Empathy”. Etymologically speaking the word “Empathy” comes from an ancient Greek word “Empatheia” from “em” meaning “In” and “pathos” meaning feeling. From this came the nineteenth century German word “Einfuhling”, from which we got the word Empathy.

Now while empathy has been at the heart of human civilisation, the word is actually quite new. It only began to be used at the beginning of the twentieth century. Interestingly it originated in the appreciation of art, where it was used to describe the imaginative activity of projecting yourself into a work of art as an effort to understand why we are moved by such creativity. The word has it’s Genesis in the work of German doctor Wilhelm Wundt who almost by accident gave birth to psychology and the philosopher Theodor Lipps. Lipps originated what was then considered a radical idea, that the power of art was not so much in the work itself but in the viewer actively engaging in it. The power is in “The Creative Interchange”

In “You Must Change Your Life: The Story of Rainer Maria Rilke and Auguste Rodin” Rachel Corbett explained how this developed.

“The moment a viewer recognizes a painting as beautiful, it transforms from an object into a work of art. The act of looking, then, becomes a creative process, and the viewer becomes the artist.”

…She continued…

“Lipps found a name for his theory in an 1873 dissertation by a German aesthetics student named Robert Vischer. When people project their emotions, ideas or memories onto objects they enact a process that Vischer called einfühlung, literally “feeling into.” The British psychologist Edward Titchener translated the word into English as “empathy” in 1909, deriving it from the Greek empatheia, or “in pathos.” For Vischer, einfühlung revealed why a work of art caused an observer to unconsciously “move in and with the forms.” He dubbed this bodily mimesis “muscular empathy,” a concept that resonated with Lipps, who once attended a dance recital and felt himself “striving and performing” with the dancers. He also linked this idea to other somatosensory imitations, like yawns and laughter.”

Isn’t it so true how yawning and laughing can be infectious. When we laugh and or yawn together we are feeling with each other. Empathy is to feel with another. It is to recognise ourself in the other and the other in ourselves. This can be difficult and painful at times. It takes effort. I would say it is a moral and spiritual practice. It can be taught and learnt and developed.

I recently went to prison. It was only as a visitors sharing my experience of with a group of inmates who themselves are trying to find recovery. In them I saw myself and I saw myself in them. I empathise with them deeply. I was humbled and moved by the whole experience. I saw deep care for one another. How they were supporting one another in what is as challenging an environment as you could live in. I felt deeply with them, I empathised.

“Empathy” is taught in Danish schools. Since 1993 it has been part of their “National Curriculum” It is named “Klassens time”, during which children can seek advice from peers, learn empathy, conflict resolution as well as strengthen their relationships and sense of community.

“Klassens time” is a step by step program. Students are shown cards that feature children experiencing different emotions, such as sadness, anger, and happiness. They are asked to not just identify the emotion, but to explain what it means to them. They learn how to interpret others’ emotions and how they make them feel. They are not taught to judge the emotions, just to recognise and respect them.

In an essay in “The Atlantic” Jessica Alexander, author of “The Danish Way of Parenting” explains why in “Klassen time” children of different strengths and weakness are mixed together. She wrote: “The goal is for the students to see that everyone has positive qualities and to support each other in their efforts reach the next level,” Adding further that: “The math whiz may be terrible at soccer, and vice versa. This system fosters collaboration, teamwork, and respect.”

Maybe we could all learn something from the Danish education system. It will certainly helps see we are all one and another. That we are all formed from the same flash and have the same spirit flowing through us. It will allow us to thrive and be who we are whilst also understanding that others have similar needs. Not to become clones and all alike, but to truly be all that we can be.

Empathy is not easy, it takes effort. It can seem too much at times, especially in this our modern age. A time when we are bombarded by fear of the other. Where there are voices decrying empathy and suggesting it might be a problem, or at least that there is an “empathy exploit” which maybe leading to what Gad Saad has described as “civilisational suicidal empathy”.

It is a view I don’t share. I think the problem is a lack of empathy. We need to develop empathy in its truest sense, to feel with another, to understand one another better. To value each other as we are, to enable one another to thrive as individuals and society as a whole.

There is a need for “Active Empathy”, the type being taught in Danish schools. Something that I believe that free religious communities such as ours ought to be about. Active empathy is about opening our whole being to others. We do this not by forcing ourselves upon them, but by allowing them to be themselves around us. This is true openness. This is invitation. When I say come as you are, exactly as you are, this is what I mean; when I say, “but do not expect to leave in exactly the same condition,” this is what I mean. This is the purpose of religious experience, that of transformation. This is not to suggest that we are fundamentally wrong, no it is more that we can become who we are wholly and at the same time invite others to do the same. Empathy and particularly active empathy is the key.

Of course this begs the question, how do we bring this about?

Well, I was reminded this week of the work of Karen Armstrong and her book “12 Steps to a Compassionate Life”. It came to me after I returned from prison. In it she offers a meditative practise as a starting point. It begins by imagining Confucius’ “Concentric Circles of Compassion”, beginning within ourselves and then moving out in ever widening circles until it touches the whole world.

The meditation suggests that we turn our attention to three individuals that we know. The three being an acquaintance we are not too closely connected to; someone we hold dear to our hearts; someone to whom we bear a grudge or hold resentment against. Armstrong suggests that we bring each one to our mind, to picture them and to name them. To bring to mind their good points; to look into their hearts and see their pain and to desire for each of them to be free of their pain and finally to resolve to help them in any way that we can; to wish for them whatever it is we desire for ourselves; to live by the Golden Rule. The purpose of the meditation is to develop upeksha ‘equanimity, which will allow us to relate to people with equanimity. Of course this is difficult to practice, but if stuck with, over a period of time, results are sure to follow.

Through developing empathy we will truly be able to practise compassion in our daily lives. Practise does indeed make perfect. Well maybe not perfect, but better. Opera singers have to train for years, as do dancers and even ministers for that matter, doctors are not made overnight and neither are decent spin bowlers. All these crafts take time, dedication and consistent effort. It is worth it though.

Through the practise of empathy we can live truly connected lives and we will no longer feel that sense of separation and aloneness that so many people seem to suffer from. Through practise we can grow into what Schweitzer described as a "spiritual relationship with the Universe" and we will develop reverence for all life, including our own.

Empathy is a choice, a decision and I believe it is vital to human flourishing. It doesn’t just happen. It is a choice we make to pay attention, to extend ourselves beyond the confines of our singular selves. Empathy is an intention. It is intention to create something better not only for ourselves and current neighbours, but for those who will follow when we are long gone.

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

Wondering while you are wandering into Love: A reflection for Lent

 

I find myself wandering a lot. As I wander I do in fact find myself wondering about so many things. I wonder at the beginning of the week where this Sunday’s wandering may lead. I wonder about the state of the world, our humanity, our capacity to do incredibly beautiful and loving and grotesque things to one another. Sometimes I wander and wonder with others, sometimes alone, well apart from Molly. She though is just off investigating, far less troubled by the state of her own being and or the state of the world. I would do better to follow her wanderings than my own wonderings, but then again she doesn’t have to create and deliver worship.

I was out with a friend and her dog Ronnie, Molly’s best friend, on Wednesday morning. We were wandering and wondering together. My friend is a writer and I was asking them about their current work. They told me that something had got stuck in production. I told them I was struggling to come up with something for this week, despite spending the last two days exploring, wandering down all kinds of blind alleys and getting nowhere. We wandered and wondered for a bit longer and I eventually headed for home.

I had notes and thoughts galore, but my wandering had brought no more clarity to my wondering. I did read a rather beautiful quotation posted by Rev Laura Dobson reflecting on Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent, that she had posted on Facebook It is by A. Powell Davies a Unitarian minister in the first half of the twentieth century. It read

“Be with us, O God, when we think of the wrongs we have done to other people; lest, hating ourselves for our evil-doing, we turn our hatred outward on to them. Help us to forgive ourselves, acknowledging that we are no better than we are; and then help us to believe that we can be better.”

As I read I thought it was a beautiful prayer to take into the season of Lent. It got me wondering as we begin our 40 day wander through Lent, what this season is actually about. Surely it is not just about deprivation, but about creation. About creating something beautiful for lives and in the lives of others. Surely its about love coming to life once again in human form. Well at least this seems to be what is at the end of Lent and the joy and celebration of Easter.

We have entered the season of Lent. I hope you all enjoyed your pancakes on Tuesday. On what some still call Shrove Tuesday, or as many prefer to call it “Pancake Day”, or as I prefer to call it “Flat Yorkshire Pudding Day”. How do you eat yours?

The following day “Ash Wednesday”, for Christians, marks the beginning of 40 days of fasting and self-sacrifice that lead up to Easter, the day of re-birth re-newal and new beginnings.

In the account found in Matthews Gospel, that we heard earlier. Jesus is “led by the spirit” into the wilderness, a place of transformation and temptation. He is taken to the pinnacle of the temple and to the top of a high mountain. Here he is offered the world, but rejects the allure of an easier showier more obvious path. Instead he chooses the road less travelled, the heroes path. He is tempted by “Satan” but resists the temptation. Satan is not a physical being, some horned character of cartoons, but the tempter. Satan is an illusory obstacle that keeps us from keeping our responsibilities. It is that power that distracts us from living the loving life that we can. I felt like I was distracted somewhat this week, as I found it hard to focus. Not that I had been wandering around in the desert, starved and exhausted for 40 days, so I didn’t have much of excuse for being distracted. That said I found it hard to focus on the task at hand. I am not alone.

Jesus resisting temptation is a universal tale; many of the great sages went on similar journeys, before embarking on their missions to heal their people. The Buddha had to leave the comforts of home, abandon his weeping family, shave his head and don the robes of a world renouncing ascetic when he began his journey to discover a cure for the pain of the world. Long before his revelations Muhammad used to retreat to Mount Hira, outside of Mecca, where he fasted, performed spiritual exercises and gave alms to the poor. He did this in an attempt to discover a remedy for the troubles of his time. It is currently Ramamdan, a time of fasting for Muslims. When Ghandi began his mission he left the comforts of the elite in which he had lived his whole life and travelled to India carefully observing the plight of the ordinary people.

During their own times in the wilderness the great sages found their answers. Through taking the road less travelled, the hard road, the difficult road, the answers came to them. They discovered the knowledge they needed to impact positively on their people in their time and place. This is the spiritual life in its essence. It is often the hardest most difficult path and it can certainly appear to be the loneliest, one filled with temptations. That said it is the one where the answers are usually found.

The great sages were not just wandering alone, they were wondering what they felt they must do with this one wild wonderful life.

In being called out into the wild they didn’t just wander aimlessly they wondered, often for a long time. I have heard lent being described as being a long time, as in length. The forty days are symbolic of a long time, just as 40 years in the desert symbolised a long time wandering round the desert for Moses and his people seeking the “Promised Land”. So too the story of Jesus in the wilderness echoes this struggle. His was to remain true to his covenant, theirs was to establish a religious community.

Wandering and wondering in the wild is part of everyone’s spiritual journey. I’m sure most have experienced this in recent times. The journey is individual as well as communal. It is a time of struggle, but also transformation. It reminds us that we are alone, but also not alone. As Sarah York puts it:

“We are neither where we have been nor where we are going. There is danger and possibility, risk and promise. In the wilderness, the spirit may descend like a dove and lift us on its wings of hope, then drive us into the depths of despair; it may affirm us with a gift of grace, then challenge us to change. In the stories and rituals of Eastern as well as Western religions, a journey into the wilderness represents a time when we both pursue and resist the Holy.

We may choose to enter the wilderness like the people of Yahweh, to escape bondage, or, like Henry David Thoreau, to “live deliberately.” Or we may, like Jesus, be driven there without much choice. Once there, even our markers of time and space collapse, for this wilderness is not in space or time, but is the boundless territory of the soul.”

It is easy to look at Lent as merely a time of deprivation. Of denying ourselves in solidarity. There is an element to this, people choose to give things up for Lent and deny human pleasure etc. it is the same with fasting in other traditions too. There is more to it than this though. To me it is a time of preparation. Yes, of purification, but in the sense that it is readying us for something new. Something that will be given birth to on the new day of renewal and re-birth that is Easter.

As I wandered home and thought of Easter and the enjoyment of chocolate and the Easter eggs in the shops etc my wonderings turned to a film that seems to me to be a fascinating allegory of what is at the heart of what was discovered during those wanderings and wonderings in the desert,

The film is “Chocolat” by Lasse Hallstrom. It is set during the season of Lent, in a small French town in 1959. The town Lansquenet holds fast to tradition. The Mayor of the town has the young priest in the palm of his hand and he gets him to preach sermons each week to the people about the dangers of temptation, the threat to morality posed by outsiders, and even the evils of chocolate.

A beautiful and mysterious woman Vianne enters the town and opens a chocolate shop, this infuriates the mayor. She is seen as the ultimate symbol of temptation. Her joy for life leads her to reaching out to others who are excluded in the village. She guesses their favourite chocolate and pours out her love and acceptance. All the while the mayor attempts to have her driven out of town. Throughout the film all the characters seem to go on a journey, the classic heroes journey. A journey that is the length of time, that is Lent, is perhaps all about.

The young priest Pere Henri goes on the same journey and finally he finds his voice. On Easter morning he wakes up and realises he has had enough and instead of preaching a sermon on the divinity of Jesus, instead he speaks of his humanity. He talks of the religion of Jesus, rather then the one that had been made around him. He spoke of the lessons of his life, about inclusion and universal love saying:

"We can't go around measuring our goodness by what we don't do. We measure goodness by what we embrace, what we create, and who we include."

Isn’t this the message that came into being in the desert after those 40 days. A message that was brought to people about a new religion, a message that stood in contrast to the tribalism and blind following of rules of the time. A message that brought the spirit alive in people’s lives. a message that needs to be heard again in this our day and age. A message of inclusion of radical love; a message of universal acceptance.

So, this is my message this Lenten season. This is where my wanderings and wonderings have led. It is nothing new. It’s message that has been heard for millenniums. It might sound radical in this day and age, but I’m not sure it is. Unless love and acceptance is considered beyond the pale. I invite you to journey with me this Lenten season and see what you might uncover and perhaps discover as we wander and wonder, sometimes alone and sometimes together.

I’m going to end with a little Mary Oliver. It’s a kind of question really. The poem is “A Summer’s Day”, so yes it is not seasonally correct, but hey we are somewhat unorthodox round here. So here it is.

“Summer’s Day” by Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean —
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down —
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

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

Tell All the Truth, But Tell it Slant: May it Dazzle Gradually, so that No One is Left Blind

A long time ago, the king of a small country wanted to pay tribute to the emperor of China, so he sent his envoy with a gift of three golden statues. These golden statues were magnificent, and the emperor was very excited. The king requested the emperor figure out which statue was the most valuable.

The emperor thought of various ways including asking a jeweller to check these statues which were identical in every way - appearance, weight, design, and workmanship. The emperor did not know what to do next. The envoy was waiting outside for an answer.

A big country like China had no way to figure this out, how embarrassing!

Finally, an old minister said he knew how to determine which one would be the most valuable. The emperor invited the minister and the envoy into the hall. The old minister confidently took out three straws. He put one straw into a statue’s ear; the straw came out the other ear. Then he put the straw into a second statue’s ear, and the straw came out its mouth. When the minister put the straw into the third statue’s ear, the straw fell into its stomach. The minister then said that the third statue was the most valuable.

The envoy went silent...for the minister had discovered the correct answer.

Can anyone tell me why the third statue was the most valuable?

Well the first statue symbolises that what is heard goes into one ear and out of the other.

The second statue symbolises that what is heard is simply regurgitated without being digested by the hearer; therefore no lesson is learnt.

The third statue symbolises someone who listens intently to what is being said and it is then absorbed into his stomach and therefore into the core of his being, before being passed on.

It is important that we all realise that we are given two ears and one mouth for a reason.

Here’s a poem, by Emily Dickinson, “Tell all the truth but tell it slant”

“Tell all the truth but tell it slant” by Emily Dickinson

Tell all the truth but tell it slant —
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind —

I felt the need to speak to someone the other day, I was concerned about something and it was one of the moments when I thought it was best not to keep silent. It was the right thing to do. The mistake was that I was a little too direct and the person got very defensive, and as a result what I was trying to express did not reach them. It was one of those moments when the truth told would have been better spoken from an angle. It is always important to be considerate of who is receiving truth when you are speaking it. Sometimes the truth can dazzle a little took quickly and leave everyone blind.

There have been times in my life when truth has been spoken to me, life saving and transforming truth actually, when I was able to take it in, and it has set me free. That said there has been times when people have spoken their truth in terribly unhelpful ways. I think consideration of others is always key to living the spiritual life. You need to be in a place where you can hear the truth and absorb it yourself and then come to your own conclusions about it. There are times when you will hear it and it will just pass right through you. There are times when you will hear it but not take it into yourself and just repeat it, you will not make it a part of you. Then there are those times when you will hear the truth, absorb, and make sense of it and then bring your own truth from it. Sometimes the way to help a person hear such truth, to truly hear and absorb the truth, it is to tell it slant. This takes, time, it takes understanding and it takes deep love.

It is also important to understand that truth needs to be absorbed carefully, as Dickinson pointed out it must dazzle gradually or it can be blinding and overwhelming. Consideration and understanding is vital when revealing truth. Our senses need time to adjust. It is important to understand for some people more consideration is needed than for others. We must learnt to walk in the shoes of others at times.

This brings to mind a rather wonderful cautionary tale told by Anthony Demello from “The Song Bird” on the price of truth:

THE TRUTH SHOP.

I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw the name of the shop: THE TRUTH SHOP. They sold truth here.

The salesgirl was very polite: What type of truth did I wish to purchase, partial or whole truth? The whole truth, of course. No deceptions for me, no defences, no rationalizations.
I wanted my truth plain and unadulterated. She waved me on to another side of the store where the whole truth was sold.
The salesman there looked at me compassionately and pointed to the price tag. “The price is very high, sir,” he said.
“What is it?” I asked, determined to get the whole truth, no matter what it cost. “Your security, sir,” ‘If you take this,' he said, ‘you will pay for it by losing all repose for the rest of your life'.
I walked sadly out of the store. I had thought I could have the whole truth at little cost. I am still not ready for Truth. I crave for peace and rest every now and then. I still need to deceive myself a little with my defences and rationalizations. I still seek the shelter of my unquestioned beliefs.

If I have learnt anything about the spiritual life I have learnt how important consideration is. I need to consider where the person is coming from and what they are ready for when communicating with them. This is a lesson we could all do we with heading, particularly at this time. It is not always helpful to be like the “Yorkshireman” form “The Harry Enfield Show” “I say what I like and I like what I ruddy well say”. Certainly something I must take head of as a minister of religion.

Honesty, speaking truth in love is vital, but so is consideration. It is important to understand when expressing truth that it might just be opinion and no one ever has the whole truth, our truths and opinions may well be conflicted and certainly biased. Truth like the three golden statues is a gift, but only if given in the right way. Too often they truth can end up been divisive and hurtful, because it is not told in the right way. I am reminded here of the Buddhist concept of "Right Speech", or “Samma Vacca”

This brings to mind an incident in the life of Suzuki Roshi during his days as a temple priest in Japan. One day he was outside his temple with another priest when a workman called down to them from the roof, where he was making repairs. "There you go, a couple of lazy priests who don't work for a living. What good are you to anyone?" Suzuki looked up at the roofer without saying anything for a while. At last, he called out to the roofer, "That temple next door has a beautiful roof."

Now it is true that the temple next door had a beautiful roof, it was famous for it. That such a response seems irrelevant in the context of such a conversation. The roofer had insulted Roshi and his work after all. So it seems irrelevant and even evasive, unless you see that the point of his remark was that Suzuki Roshi was attempting to introduce into the conversation something that he and the roofer could agree on, regardless of the roofer's opinion of priests or of him personally. I think that this is something that is so needed in our time, when loud opinion seems to be ever more dividing and divisive; forms of communication who’s purpose seems to be to make others different, to divide and to take sides, thus increasing conflict and make it ever harder to hear what others are saying, let alone to take in absorb their truth.

It matters how we speak and hear truth, context is never irrelevant.

It is important to consider who is listening when speaking our truth, to do so in love, and at times to offer it slant. As Emily Dickinson said “The truth must dazzle gradually”. It can shine brightly if we allow folks eyes and ears to adjust to it. It must also be as Dickinson wrote told “with explanation kind” or it will not be absorbed.

If told in such a way it will encourage folk to open to the truth that is all around us, the truth spoke shinning and dazzling in every little thing, if our sense are open to it. Truth revealed in love ought not to be divisive.

This brings to mind the following extract from “Old Turtle and the Broken Truth” by Douglas Wood, a beautiful story about love, acceptance and the nature of truth.

Here it is:

" 'First, my child,' said Old Turtle, 'remember that there are truths all around us, and within us. They twinkle in the night sky and bloom upon the earth. They fall upon us every day, silent as the snow and gentle as the rain. The people, clutching their one truth, forget that it is a part of all the small and lovely truths of life. They no longer see these truths, no longer hear them.'

" 'But . . . perhaps, Little One, you can . . .'

" 'I — I'll try,' said the Little Girl."

As the saying goes A little bit of knowledge is a dangerous thing…You can wear a crown, it doesn’t make you king, beware the trinkets that we bring…For all that glitters is not gold…Beware the dangers of shiny things…perhaps the most dangerous being the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth…

The truth, if narrow told, is often misheard or misunderstood. Beware anyone offering easy answer to life’s complex questions. The truth has a way of revealing itself if allowed to do so and if our sense are open to it.

The Buddha reputedly said “Three things cannot be long hidden, the sun, the moon and the truth”. Now while these things are not long hidden we never see the whole of the moon, despite what the “Waterboys” sang, the whole of the sun and certainly not the whole of the truth.

None of us know the whole truth, we can only get a glimpse of it and even the small aspect that we get to glimpse upon we do not see directly. Any bit of the light we gaze upon is refracted. As Paul said in his famous words on love we only see into the glass dimly. No one sees the whole truth. It is important to remember this and it ought to breed humility. This ought to encourage to be open more to one another, for perhaps if we do we may reveal together more of the truth.

One of the biggest barriers to truth seeking are our biases, sometimes unconscious ones. How easy it I to act and speak as if we know the whole, as if we have gained some special knowledge and that those who see through the glass differently must be deluded fools.

We all of course have our preferences, the things we like and the way we like them. This is a good thing to know ourselves. Sadly, though sometimes we can become slaves to these preferences, and they can quickly become biases. Our biases can blind us, close us off to others and their point of view. They trap us in ignorance, deception and illusion. When we are stuck behind them no amount of reasoning and discussion will break through them. It seems that the only way to do so is to break down the walls of our own biases. Such biases can be so strong that instead of being open to new ideas we seek ideas that confirm whatever we believe. There is actually a name for this “confirmation bias”. It is easy to seek out people and things that will agree with us and confirm our biases rather than be around people who will disagree with us and wrestle with our own truth and or that or others. It is just more comfortable and far less painful. It is no way to grow though. Growth seems to always come through pain and struggle, it is not easy. Who though said that life is meant to be easy and or pain free? There is a price to pay for truth as DeMello’s story taught.

“Truth” itself is an interesting word. It comes from a Germanic root which also gives rise to another word “troth” as the vow of old "I pledge thee my troth." A word used as people enter a covenant with one another, as Parker J Palmer put it “a pledge to engage in mutually accountable and transforming relationship...to know in truth is to become betrothed, to engage the known with one's whole self...to know in truth is to be known as well.”

Truth is a pledge made between people, it is relational in nature, a covenant of trust.

Truth seeking and speaking should thus be relational and not divisive. It is not about arguing and proving the other wrong, it I about listening to and listening with, with open hearts, minds and souls. It is about understanding who is listening and being considerate of that person, finding ways to communicate with them. Yes it is about speaking the whole truth, but sometimes slant and from and angle, always remembering that we all have more in common than what divides us, that we are all formed from the same flesh and spirit, maintaining each others worth and dignity, speaking and listening to truth in love.

So let’s tell all the truth, but do slant at times. Lets speak with consideration. Let’s speak the language of love, with explanation kind. Let’s open our hearts in love to one another, let’s listen with the ears of our hearts, for the language of the heart is truly universal it will gently break down any barriers built by inconsideration. May the light of truth be revealed gradually so that one of us will be blind to it. May it dazzle gradually so that not one of us will remain blind.

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

No Matter What and Bridget Jones: Stories about the Eternity of Love

I will begin with a favourite story a story about love and the eternity of love really.

"No Matter What" by Debi Gliori

Small was feeling grim and dark. Playing toss and fling and squash, Yell and scream and bang and crash. Break and snap and bash and batter… “Good grief,” said Large. “What is the matter?” Small said “I’m a grim and grumpy little Small and nobody loves me at all.” “Oh Small,” said Large. “Grumpy or not, I’ll always love you no matter what.” Small said, “If I was a grizzly bear, would you still love me, would you care?” “Of course,” said Large, “bear or not, I’ll always love you no matter what.” Small said, “But if I turned into a bug, would you still love me and give me a hug?” “Of course,” said Large, “bug or not, I’ll always love you no matter what.” “No matter what?” said Small, and smiled, “What if I was a crocodile?” Large said “I’d hug you close and tight and tuck you up in bed each night”. “Does love wear out” said Small, “does it break or bend? Can you fix it, stick it, does it mend?” “Oh help,” said Large “I’m not that clever I just know I’ll love you for ever”. Small said “but what about when we're dead and gone, would you love me then, does love go on?” Large held Small snug as they looked out at the night, at the moon in the dark, and the stars shining bright. “Small look at the stars – how they shine and glow, but some of those stars died a long time ago.” Still they shine in the evening skies. Love, like starlight, never dies”.

A beautiful story don’t you think.

By the way apologies, I have a really heavy cold. I hope you can understand me.

Molly was full of life and love on Monday morning. I think she spent the best part of two hours running and playing in the park. It was a joy to see her running alive and enjoying the joys of spring. It did feel like it was in the air. I spent some of the time in conversation with a friend and her dog Ronnie, Molly’s favourite. They had a ball together. We also spent time talking about a few things, particularly friends who we have some concerns about. As is often the case I spent most of my time listening, I generally follow the suggestion from James 1 v 19-20 “You must understand this, my beloved:[g] let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; 20 for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness. “ Something we could all do with paying attention to in this day and age. I did share a little about a sense of weariness this winter, that I felt surrounded by grief. Both congregations have lost several people this winter.

So, it was lovely to find myself walking in love and life and watching the signs of spring all around me, particularly in this sweet little dog.

I have been to the pictures a couple of times in recent weeks. I enjoyed both occasions, sharing with friends and enjoying the whole cinema experience at “Everyman” in Altrincham . I have been to see two very different films. The first being “A Complete Unknown” the Bob Dylan biopic, which was superb. The second being very different “Bridget Jones; Mad About the Boy”, the fourth instalment in the Bridget Jones series. I think I have seen the original and perhaps another one. I have to say it is not something that has been high my lists of interests.

So, I began to watch, with not a great deal of expectation. I surprised myself though as I got caught up in the humour, which was easy to engage in and the quality of the actors and characters. It is of course a romantic love story, these films always are. That said what got me, what held me, was when I realised it truly was a love story, but not the kind you would expect. It was a story about grief. Grief of course is all about love. In fact grief is the price we pay for love. We all love and thus we all grieve when that which we love is lost.

It is a story of about Bridget beginning to live again after the loss of her husband Mark D’Arcy, the father of two children Billy and Mabel. It is a funny and poignant portrayal, sweet and painful at times. It also has this rather lovely ability to explore all the experiences and stages of grief; all the different conversations and reactions to grief and those who grieve; it explored the spiritual, religious, psychological, social and plain old human experiences that all who grieve and begin to live again will experience. It is not only a journey about Bridget’s grief though, but also that of her children, particular her son Billy. His journey through grief was threaded through the whole story. Yes, obviously it is Bridget who gets all the focus and attention, this is the film. That said it was his journey through grief that spoke powerfully to me.

There is also the rather lovely relationship that eventually forms between Bridget and Billy’s science teacher Mr Wallacker. Now as their relationship, initially not romantic develops, there is a wonderful interplay between the secular and spiritual about life and death and what lives on. As I watched one scene the following from Forrest Church’s “Love and Death: My Journey Through the Vally of the Shadow” floated through my mind:

“Whatever happens to us after we die, life doesn’t end in oblivion. It continues in love, our own love, once given, everlasting. After death our bodies may be resurrected. Our Souls may transmigrate or become part of the heavenly pleroma. We may join our loved ones in Heaven. Or we may return the constituent parts of our being to the earth from which it came and rest in eternal peace. About life after death, no-one knows.

But about love after death, we surely know. The one thing that can never be taken from this world, even by death, is the love we have given before we die. Love I swear it, is immortal”

This is the beautiful message of the film. A similar message to that of the beautiful “No Matter What” by Debi Gliori, that I shared earlier “Small look at the stars – how they shine and glow, but some of those stars died a long time ago.” Still they shine in the evening skies. Love, like starlight, never dies”.

These were feelings expressed throughout the film, or at least this is what I heard, regardless of individuals foundational beliefs.

The film also humourously portrays what to do and what not to do when journeying with someone through grief. How to be a friend, or collegue or doctor. The key I have learnt is similar to those lessons from James 1 v 19 “You must understand this, my beloved:[g] let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak…” So many folk wanted to get Bridget and the children through the grief, offered terrible and good advice, when the best thing to do is to simply accompany another through grief. If a person is allowed to do so, in time, life will continue one. The grief and love within it becomes a part of you and you live again. You feel what I felt on Monday morning watching Molly playing so alive in the park. Spring coming life, after another winter.

To live fully alive is to live with the whole of life, even the great sorrows. You don’t get to filter life

The Sufi mystic said to be as a ‘guest house’ and welcome each new arrival, even if it be a crowd of sorrows. Invite them in, Rumi says. Meet them at the door laughing, treat each guest honorably. They may be clearing you out for some new delight.

How many of us can say that grief is a welcome guest at our door? None I would suspect. And yet how many of us would not invite love in. Grief of course is the price we pay for love. It can seem too high a price at times. Grief is a hard companion. In her book “Companion through the Darkness” Stephanie Ericsson says,

“Grief is a tidal wave that overtakes you, smashes you up into its darkness, where you tumble and crash against unidentifiable surfaces, only to be thrown out on an unknown beach, bruised, reshaped.”

I once hear grief described as being like a vast and lonely plain where all the echoes are of only one sound; or that grief rises suddenly, in unexpected moments; or that it is a constant ache, ever present. C.S. Lewis once exclaimed, “No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.” Grief is not easy and I’m sure none of us would wish to invite in this unwelcome guest. How many of us welcome it in others? How many can welcome it for a short while, but not for too long?

It is better by far to share it, to speak of it, though it is wrenching to do so. William Shakespeare noted: “Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak whispers the o’er-fraught heart and bids it break.” The difficult path through grief is the only path that exists. “Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture,” invite it in. Don’t run from it, because you can’t escape it.

Grief does not always appear as tears, it affects people in different ways. Grief can make us cry uncontrollably and it can make us go numb. Grief can make us feel guilty or depressed or fearful or angry. Grief can cause emotional problems in our hearts and physical problems in our bodies. Grief can put us in a state of disbelief; it can make us withdraw; it can make us feel like we are going crazy. In other words, no matter what the textbook tells you, the stages of grief do not offer a direct route.

Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’s model from her 1969 book suggests the passage is: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. It is often forgotten that Kubler-Ross also said the list is not comprehensive and can happen in any order.

There is a funny moment in the Bridget Jones film when her friends wanting her to get through the grief say she is going through the different stages, but not really understanding what they are. They want her get through, want her laughing again, but is so doing they are not allowing her to journey as she should. Grief is not some clinical journey that follows a set pattern. Grief is about love, human love, so how on earth could it be.

Grief is not an illness that we need to get over and recover from and then just leave behind. Remember grief is about love and the loss of the physical aspects of love, so to leave it behind, would be to let go of love. As Megan Devine has said:

"Grief no more needs a solution than love needs a solution. We cannot 'triumph' over death, or loss, or grief. They are immovable elements of being alive. If we continue to come at them as though they are problems to be solved, we'll never get solace or comfort in our deepest pain."

Grief is not an illness, unless you think that love is a disease in need of a cure.

When we lose someone we love, our lives are changed forever. Our lives will never be the same again. We don’t rise above our pain. We don’t pretend it’s not there. We don’t get over it. We live through it, and we are changed by it. Grieving, then, is more about transformation than transcendence. It is not about explaining loss or understanding why something happened. Grieving is about finding meaning in the absence of an explanation. Let me repeat that. Grieving is about finding meaning in the absence of an explanation.

And what is the meaning? Well the meaning is in the love that lives on. The love that is immortal. So beautifully portrayed in this delightful Romantic Comedy “Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy” and articulated in the children’s story “No matter What”. I will repeat the final line to end this morning. “Large held Small snug as they looked out at the night, at the moon in the dark, and the stars shining bright. “Small look at the stars – how they shine and glow, but some of those stars died a long time ago.” Still they shine in the evening skies. Love, like starlight, never dies”.”

Love like starlight never dies.

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

Looking for Love in All the Right Places: Leaving Love Letters Straight from Our Hearts

“I was lookin' for love in all the wrong places
Lookin' for love in too many faces
Searchin' their eyes
Lookin' for traces of what I'm dreaming of
Hoping to find a friend and a lover
I'll bless the day I discover another heart
Lookin' for love”

I’m sure a lot of you are familiar with this song by Johnny Lee. Maybe one or two of us found ourselves singing it on Valentines Day last Friday, or maybe the Roy Orbison song “Only the Lonely”

I’m sure a lot of us can identify. Although sometimes maybe we find ourselves looking for love in all the right places. For love is all around us

“I feel it in my fingers
I feel it in my toes
Love is all around me
And so the feeling grows”

Sometime you know we find love in all the right places…

Last Monday we conducted the memorial service of Margaret Williams. Margaret was the organist and Dunham Road from 1989 until 2024. It was a beautiful service celebrating Margaret’s life and the love she shared. Many old friends joined on Zoom and many spoke of her and the love they shared in the chapel. There was most definitely love found that day and in that place. We were looking for love in the right place.

I have conducted several funeral services for members of both congregations this winter. It has been quite a tough time all in all. That said it has been wonderful to share in the love experienced, the love they shared and the legacy of love that each person has left behind.

Many folk spoke at Margaret’s service, one group particularly stood out, they were several members of a youth theatre group that Margaret worked with. They were all adults and parents themselves now. Margaret had worked with their children too, a second generation. It was deeply moving to listen to the love they felt and shared with Margaret. A wonderful heart felt legacy.

The service took a lot out of me personally. The amount of grief in recent weeks has taken something of a toll. After the service two friends contacted me and I joined them with our dogs. We shared a couple of hours together, just being silly and having fun. Just talking utter rubbish. Such friendship is one of the highest forms of love. The ancient Greeks called this “Philia Love”. Something I have been enjoying a lot recently. A form of love I find in all the right places. I have been blessed with such love all my life.

As I was thinking of the different people that spoke at Margaret’s memorial service, I thought to myself how they sounded like beautiful love letters. They were the sweetest Valentines. They were not of romantic love of course, but deep, deep love in many forms. Margaret had left her love letters in their lives; they were her legacy and the words they spoke were love letters spoken and shared.

I myself have been receiving some love letters this week. Now before anyone gets excited they are not of the romantic kind. That said they are beautiful all the same. Last Sunday I talked about “Snowdrops of Hope” I made my weekly video on the subject too. Well in response a whole host of folk have been sending me pictures of snowdrops all week long. Just beautiful love letters that have been dropped in my inbox.

Yeh I have been looking for love in all the right places.

It brought to my mind the following from Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself”:

I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand God not in the least,
Nor do I understand who there can be more wonderful than myself.
Why should I wish to see God better than this day?
I see something of God each hour of the twenty-four, and each moment then,
In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass,
I find letters from God dropt in the street, and every one is sign'd
by God's name,
And I leave them where they are, for I know that wheresoe'er I go,
Others will punctually come for ever and ever.

I wonder what love letters we leave for others to pick up. I wonder if we see that same love in the faces of the people we meet. Do we see something of God in each and everyone of them?

This all got me thinking about how we see one another. Not so much our loved ones and friends, at least not only them. How do we see one another? Do we always see each other as kin, as formed from the same spirit, made with same flesh and having the same beating heart? Do we always show another form of love, the love expressed at the core of the religious traditions, towards one another. This is Agape Love, selfless love, which is an empathic love, without prejudice towards everyone. This maybe the most challenging love of all, especially to those we see as different somehow, as not kin. Human history, religious history, is littered with violence towards those we see as different. People have preyed on this suspicion of the other, on stranger danger thorough the ages. It still happens today sadly. In fact I am hearing its rage and cry ever more loudly in recent times.

Hate, not love being found in all the wrong places.

Do we see all people as kin, do we offer kindness to all people without prejudice, or are we suspicious of those that we see as different? I am sure that everyone can think of times when they have not lived up to the sacred command that we love one another.

This brings to my mind the parable of “The Good Samaritan” found in the 10th chapter of Luke’s Gospel vv 24-37, shared earlier. It begins with: “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see! 24For I tell you that many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it.’”

The parable is about paying attention and acting from Agape love. For love is an action, it’s about what we do and do not do. It is through our loving actions that we create our legacy; these are our love letters. In the story both a priest and Levite go by and they both see an injured half dead man on the side of the road, but they walked on by, they passed on the other side of the road. Then a Samaritan (who would be the enemy of the traveller from Jerusalem to Jericho) also saw him and when he saw him, he was moved to action and not only helped him he brought him to place of safety and paid for his boardings and lodging etc. He wanted no recognition or thanks for his actions, he was motivated purely by compassion, this is pure altruism, this is agape love.

Now I think this story is teaching something very simple and vital, each of us is capable of all the actions that take place here. We are all capable of walking on by and we are all capable of being Good Samaritans. We can all be good neighbours. I believe that to see the world through the hopefulness of our potential goodness is what kin-ship, radical love, accepting all, building the kin-dom of love here is about. It’s about seeing the good and becoming the good, so that others can see it too. These are the love letters, that we can leave behind. This is a legacy for all to read.

Sadly, so often in life we do not see one another as kin, we see the other as different and not part of the one human family. The religious traditions at their worst have often perpetuated this, but it isn’t the essence of their teachings, just the way that some have taught and practiced. The first book of the Bible Genesis in chapter 1 depicts humanity being created in God’s image. So, if one is to be a follower of the book then surely every act done by one person to another is done by and to a person made in that image, that all are part of the one human family. There is a similar suggestion in the Qur’an which in the fourth chapter declares 'Oh people, be conscious of your Lord who created you from a single soul and created from her, her mate; and from them, many men and women scattered far and wide.' Thus, suggesting a deep unity within the one human family and that all people are not only created by God but are descended from a single soul.

Buddhism extends this familiarity beyond merely humanity but to all sentient beings. Seeing all individual beings as being like waves on the ocean. Although each wave has a sense of its own separateness (its 'lesser self'), it is better understood as part of the ocean (its 'greater self'). Suggesting that the key is to awaken to the larger truth that not only are we a part of the ocean but that we are in fact in essence the ocean. Or to paraphrase Jesus “What you do to the least of them you do to me. This is more than interconnection it is deep kin-ship, in the family of life itself.

We are all part of the one family of life. We share a common heritage, but not only that, we share a common destiny too. We are deeply interconnected, in deep kin-ship.

Love of self, love of neighbors, and love of God are the foundational stones of the great religious traditions, the Golden Rule of Compassion is there at the core of them all. A classic example of this comes from the following story from the Jewish tradition:

“Standing on One Foot”

A man came to talk with Rabbi Shamai, one of the most famous of all the rabbis, nearly as famous as Rabbi Hillel.

"I would like to convert to Judaism and become a Jew," said the man. "But I don't have much time. I know I have to learn the entire book you call the Torah, but you must teach it to me while I stand on one foot."

The Torah is the most important Jewish book there is, and this crazy man wanted to learn it while standing on one foot? Why, people spent years learning the Torah; it was not something you can learn in five minutes! Rabbi Shamai grew angry with this man, and he pushed the man away using a builder's yardstick he happened to be holding in his hand.

The man hurried away, and found Rabbi Hillel. "I would like to convert to Judaism and become a Jew," said the man. "But I don't have much time. I know I have to learn the entire book you call the Torah, but you must teach it to me while I stand on one foot."

"Certainly," said Rabbi Hillel. "Stand on one foot."

The man balanced on one foot.

"Repeat after me," said Rabbi Hillel. "What is hateful to you, don't do that to someone else."

The man repeated after Rabbi Hillel, "What is hateful to me, I won't do that to someone else."

"That is the whole law," said Rabbi Hillel. "All the rest of the Torah, all the rest of the oral teaching, is there to help explain this simple law. Now, go and learn it so it is a part of you."

Simple I know but not easy, unfortunately there is a tendency to fear the other, otherness. We do not always see ourselves in the people we meet face to face, especially if we perceive some aspect of their humanity as different.

Fear can eat away at the very foundations of our humanity. Fear can block us from the love at the core of our being, the love present in life. We can become afraid to risk ourselves in love; we can become afraid of what love can teach us and turn away.

Love is a universal principle, Universalism preaches the Gospel of Love for all, there is no partiality in such love. This is Agape Love. It offers an ever widening, deepening love, it preaches what Russell Miller has titled “the larger hope”. It is a love that embraces all life, engages in every aspect of existence, a universal love. It holds out its loving arms and says come as you are, exactly as you are but remain open to loving transformation.

I am by instinct a universalist, although I am imperfect one. Fear has at times taken over me, fear of the other, fear of the stranger, I am as human as any of us. I have rejected the call for love, because I was afraid of becoming. I have been like the priest and Levite in the classic parable of the “Good Samaritan”, I have walked by on the other side because I was afraid of getting caught up in the suffering of others. I have averted my eyes, I have been unable to see what is in front of me. This is very human. I attempt each day to begin again in love, I return to love.

We can all begin again in love. We all know fear at times. We turn away from suffering. We all feel fear of the unknown, those we consider different. The truth is though that we all belong to the one human family. Love calls us to recognize that in each other and of course in ourselves, so that we can live by the sacred command to love one another, including ourselves.

In every moment of our lives we are creating and leaving a legacy for those who share this time and those who follow in this beautiful co-creation that is life. Each moment we leave behind us letters that those who follow will then pick up and read them and be influenced. So let us ensure that the letters we leave behind are letters of love and not of indifference, letters of Hope and not of Despair.

“I was lookin' for love in all the right places
Lookin' for love in everybody’s faces
Seeing ourselves in their eyes
Lookin' for traces of the Divine
in the letters that I find and all the love letters that I leave behind,
For others to one day, for others one day to find.
Always lookin' for love,
May you find it too”

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