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"

Snowdrops of Hope: Journeying from Winter to Spring

I’m going to begin with a re-telling of a classic tale by Aesop. This version approaches the story from an entirely different angle, offering an alternative perspective. It is the story of “The Hare and the Tortoise”

Is it tortus or tore toys? I think it was Lewis Carol who said “It was the tortus that taught us”

“The Hare and the Tortoise”

Once upon a time there was a hare and a tortoise. The hare liked to run and jump and roll in the flowers. The tortoise stuck to the ground looking always to the front, never to the left, never to the right.

One day the tortoise began to argue with the hare.

"You have no direction. You are aimless. You are wasting your life," the tortoise said. The hare chewed on a dandelion to see what it was like.

"Whereas I on the other claw," the tortoise continued, "have purpose. I have drive. I have ambition." The hare began doing backward somersaults.

"And I can prove it!" the tortoise shouted, getting angry. "We will race through the wood to the river. The first one onto the bridge is the winner!"

And so that's how the race began. All the other animals gathered to watch and the crow, who was a bird and could fly, agreed to be the invigilator. When all was ready the squirrel opened a nut as a starting signal.

"Crack!" The race was on! The hare was into the wood in a couple of bounds. The tortoise moved slowly forward looking always to the front, never to the left, never to the right.

The hare ran halfway through the wood. Then the hare stopped to watch a cobweb dancing in a patch of sunlight. The sound of music drifted by on the breeze. The hare hopped off to investigate. The hare loved music. Music always reminded the hare of food. The hare began looking for some baby grass shoots to nibble. The tortoise continued, always looking to the front, never to the left, never to the right.

The hare found an old, hollow log covered in toadstools. It made a great hide away and for a while the hare hid in it imagining the fox was outside. After that it felt good to jump and stretch, stretch and jump, and jump some more.

The tortoise plodded on looking straight ahead. To the left there was a wild raspberry bush so heavy with fruit that its top was brushing the ground. To the right a fledgling fell from its nest to lie helpless caught in some undergrowth. The tortoise noticed neither.

After the jumping and stretching the hare felt hot and thirsty. So the hare ran to the river and had a drink. Then finding a shady spot the hare settled down for a nap.

The tortoise left the wood and neared the bridge, looking never to the left and never to the right. The tortoise reached the bridge, looking never to the left and never to the right. The hare woke up. The tortoise crawled onto the bridge, triumphant. The crow reported to the animals at the starting line that the tortoise had won. Some of them cheered and then they all went about their business.

When it got dark and there was no one to see the hare climbed up carefully from under the bridge and went home. The moon was very beautiful.

Now while it is certainly is true that the tortoise won the race...which one truly experienced the journey? Sometimes it’s nice to turn truth upside down and to look at things from an entirely different angle.

I went for a walk with a friend and our dogs down to Dunham Massey on Monday. There were a few obstacles thrown in our way, that seemed to be blocking us, but we got there in the end. It was much needed; it was lovely to walk and talk side by side. It is one of my great pleasures to saunter with another, talking and listening and sharing the natural beauty, just being alive to everything. We grew up in the same part of the world and at the same time, so there were many things to share. We talked about our lives, as well as our own spiritual journey’s. There was much laughter too. It was lovely and we passed many folk along the way. It was also interesting to see the two dogs personalities at play. Molly always curious and into discovering new things, Holly, my friends dog, not really moving from her side. We were deep in conversation when suddenly in front of us was an unexpected sight. There was a couple with what turned out to be six white ferrets. Molly was fascinated and wanted to have a good sniff and look, she did not bark, she was just curious. Thankfully neither of them were “Ferret-legging”, not something that you would expect to see in Cheshire, only in Yorkshire. We talked with them for a while and then journeyed on. We sauntered on round and round. It was just what I needed, I think we both needed it, before returning to our respective lives.

I love to journey with others, you never know what will open up to you in a day. I have found the key is not so much where you go, but how you journey and of course with who. Remembering of course journey means what you do, or where you travel in one day. It is derived from the Latin word "diarnum" meaning daily portion from which the old French word "jornee" which meant a day’s work or a day's travel, is derived. I love this truth, it makes me smile broadly. We all live one day at a time, this is the beautiful journey of life; beautiful but sometimes heartbreakingly painful. You just don’t know what you are stepping into when you journey out each day. Monday was a beautiful journey. As I reflected that evening I was taken on many journey’s throughout my life; I was connected and reconnected to many days and many folk I have journeyed with throughout my life. It connected my present to the past and filled my heart with loving hope of the journeys I will wander on in the future. It brought, faith, hope and above all love alive in me, the three that call me out each day.

Monday was of course 3rd February, which is a special day on the Calendar. Do you know what special day it was? Well Monday was “Elmo’s” Day. Elmo is a wonderfully and loving character from Sesame Street, we should all be more like Elmo. Elmo is probably best know for the following little aphorism: “Elmo thinks it’s important to be kind because if you’re kind to somebody, then they’ll be kind to somebody, and it goes on and on and on.”

Surely this is how each of us ought journey on with one another. Might sound a bit radical in this day an age, well so be it. Be kind, be loving, be respectful, acknowledge the Divine within each and every person you meet, all life that you greet. In so doing you will make life a beautiful journey. What are you going to do with the day?

Last weekend was Imbolc, St Brigid’s Day, Candlemass and of course Groundhog Day. This is considered the beginning of Spring. I have certainly been seeing many snowdrops, particularly around the great trees. I love how these tiny, delicate little flowers stand out at the base of these enormous trees. We have journeyed through another winter, or so it seems. The Groundhog it seems disagrees. Sadly. bad news on the Punxsutawney Phil front, the groundhog, he saw his shadow. This means, according to the tradition, six more weeks of winter. So, winter might be a little longer this year.

Despite this as we walked round Dunham, it felt like Spring was in the air and those snowdrops were beautiful silver buds of hope. The snow drops are everywhere. The snowdrop is considered a symbol of hope. Legend has it that they appeared as such after Adam and Eve were expelled from Eden. Eve was about to give up hope that the winter would never end, but an angel appeared and transformed some snowflakes into the flower the snowdrop, showing that the winter will eventually come to an end. The flower is linked to the purification associated with “Candlemass” as the old rhyme goes:

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

End of winter or not, we get to journey. We journey on together and we journey on in hope. I have certainly felt, faith, hope and above all love in my heart, despite some of the troubles of life, being heavy on my heart.

I was part of a wonderful celebration of 50 years of recovery taking place in the small schoolroom at the chapel. It brought to my mind so many lives I have journeyed with these past few years. It brought to my heart thoughts of those who came before me and those who will journey on day by day. So much faith and hope and above all love.

There are times when we have to trudge as we journey, when we have to hanker down, but we must not do so facing the ground. The word trudge originally meant to walk in snow shoes, it is a word of Scandinavian origin, it depicts labour and a faith and hope and love to keep on going, this is needed in the winter months of course. We do not need to do so with our heads to the ground. We can also saunter, a word of disputed origin, with a both a joyful and an image that depicts a holy journey. Some say that travellers to the holy land were on a saunter, who knows. The key is to journey, but to do so taking in all of life, to do so joyfully, in wonderful company, taking in all of life. You will be amazed by what you see.

Remember to journey is what we do in a day. Sometimes the biggest mistake we make is that we continue journeying on, head down, not looking all around us, too focused on a perceived goal. This is due I am sure to the fear that if we don’t keep on moving, we might get lost or that our troubles might catch up with us. I do not believe that this is healthy. In many ways by just marching on ever forward we can become completely lost, in the sense that we lose who we are at the core of ourselves, that sense of belonging here in life, as we are, wanted, needed and loved.

These thoughts bring to mind the beautiful poem “Lost” by David Wagoner.

“Lost”

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.

by David Wagoner

It is so vital to pause to take in the life we lead to enjoy this life. To be the hare and not the tortoise.

No one is ever truly lost, provided you maintain a faith in life and love.

It matters what sustains us, what holds us through life, what calls us out to journey on. What daily bread we take. The reason the rich young man could not follow Jesus was that his faith, his love was in finite things. A repeated message of the Gospels is that you cannot serve two masters. Sometimes our master is of course some perceived goal, some place we feel we must get to, so much so that we don’t get to experience all that is life, we fail to live by love and eventually lose all faith and hope, this is no way to live.

Throughout our journeys’ we pass through many stages of our lives and looking back no doubt we can see these staging posts. I was reflecting on this after my walk with my friend on Monday. I was reliving so many staging posts and so many folk I have both sauntered and trudged side by side with, as I have journeyed on. It has filled my heart with love all week long.

We folk wandering around the parks are no different to those characters from the ancient stories and their many great examples of the different types of journeys, pilgrimages and Odyssey’s that we may undertake. In his meditation “The Spiritual Journey” David O Rankin names a few who have walked courageously through theirs. Stating:

“It is Moses leading the Jews through the desert of Sinai, and Jesus enduring the temptation in the wilderness of Israel, and Buddha seeking enlightenment along the dusty roads of India.

It is the glorious voyage of Odysseus in Homer’s Odyssey, the narrow paths through the circles of hell in Dante’s Inferno, and the confessions of the travellers in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales.

It is the pilgrims sailing on the Mayflower, the settlers moving westward, being On the Road with Jack Kerouac, and spinning through a black hole in Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey”

We are all of us pilgrims on the sacred journey that is life and like so many of the more famous ones we think we have to go someplace else to discover our own Nirvana or to build the New Jerusalem. Just as the pilgrims on the Mayflower did in the seventeenth century. They believed that they had to travel a great distance to a new land to create their heaven on earth. They were focused on some perceived destination. I have discovered that this is not necessary. In fact in so doing you may just fail to experience the gift that is this life. You do not have to travel great distances to experience the beautiful journey and you do not need to travel great distances to build the New Jerusalem, it must be here, in our own hearts or nowhere. The “Kin-dom” of Love has to be built here or nowhere.

I suspect it’s the same about finding ourselves once again when we feel lost. Just be here, you are not lost. Look around and look within you and listen to that voice within and that of those you journey with. Don’t walk on, head down, look up at life all around you, be awake. Look for the light that shines bright, that spark of the Divine that is within everything. That which awakens the sense of my senses, and enables us to journey on. That which allows us to feel at home wherever our feet are planted. That Kin-dom of Love, within me, within each of us and within everything.

Let love be our navigator it will always lead us home, to the place where we belong.

Enjoy the gift that is the beautiful journey, where ever it may lead.

Enjoy the journey, it is the gift, this day.

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

Living by and through Blessing: The Sacred Dash

“A Baptism” by Robert R Walsh

She called to ask if I would baptize her infant son.

I said, "What we do is like a baptism, but not exactly. And we normally do it only for people who are part of the church family. The next one we have scheduled is in May."

She said, "Could we come to talk with you about it anyway?"

They came to see me, the very young woman and her child and the child's very young father. She explained that the child had been born with a heart defect. He had to have a risky heart operation soon. She had asked the clergyman of her own church if he would baptize her son, and he had refused because she was not married to the baby’s father.

I told them that their not being married would not be an impediment to anything we might do, but that our child dedication ceremony still might not be what they were looking for.

I explained that our ceremony does not wash away any sin, it does not guarantee the child a place in heaven, it doesn't even make the child a member of the church.

In fact, I said, it doesn't change the child at all. What we expect is that it will change the rest of us in our relationship with the child, and with all children.

She listened patiently. When I was through she said, "All I want is to know that God blesses my baby."

In my mind I gasped at the sudden clarity in the room. I said, with a catch in my throat, "I think I can do that." And I did.

Every week I record my address on YouTube and post it for whoever wants to hear. I have been doing so ever since the lockdown in 2020. I also create a "blogpost", which I have been doing since 2011. The YouTube post used to be a bit convoluted, more of a complete devotion. I still call it a devotion, although I have simplified it over time. I do continue to end with words of “blessing” or at least that is what I call them. I say something like, “I am going to end with some words of blessing, you know we need to bless more, we can all bless, we bless when we give ourselves wholeheartedly to life.” I then offer some words of blessing of my own, that change each week, before ending with words I end each Sunday service with “…and may we do so in all that we feel, all that we think, all that we say and all that we do.” When I think of my ministry and what it means, what is at the heart of it, it could well be described as a kind of theology of blessing. Something we need so much of right now, when everything seems to be getting louder and louder and ever more aggressive. When we look at one another do we see someone made of the same flesh and born of the same spirit; do we recognize that we are born from the same “Original Blessing”. When God saw his creation in Gensis 1, God saw that it was good, each aspect, was blessed and on the sixth day was seen as very good. Now, of course this is not literal, this is metaphor, mythos, but at its heart is this concept of blessing and goodness and the purpose being to become a blessing to life, a creator not a destroyer.

To live by blessing is at the heart of my faith. Not always easy and I fall short every day, including at times failing to see myself as someone born from goodness, with the capacity to live in and by blessing.

I have been thinking about this quite a lot recently, particularly in relation to “Rites of Passage”, for I see blessing as being at the heart of it all, from beginning to end.

Last Monday evening I met with Peter Williams to discuss and plan his mother Margaret’s memorial service. Peter will write and deliver the main eulogy, Barbara will share some personal memories and then we decided to include a little ritual where those in attendance will be invited to come forward, light a candle and share their memories of Margaret. Peter wanted the community to share their memories, as he put it, he wanted folk to share their memories of mum, that it wasn’t about him, or anyone person, but about everyone; that we shared the memories of her life and how we were blessed by it. A eulogy after all is a piece that praises someone. I thought it was a lovely way to remember the blessings shared and a blessing to all.

On Tuesday I conducted the funeral of Marjorie Harrison, she had lived just beyond 100 years. An incredible life and one in which she had beaten the odds so many times, having survived Tuberculosis, Hepatitis, cancer and a severe stroke 26 years previously. As I delivered her eulogy I felt powerfully how many lives Margery had blessed. There many, but one special way, was the gift of holidays to Great Hucklow, something she shared with her whole family and whenever they are there they will feel powerfully that blessing. A blessing that will live for many years to come.

I recently met with a young person and their mother. The young person is thirteen years old. They contacted me to ask if we could create a ceremony where they could commit themselves to life in a new way and whilst doing so receive the support from God parents. They do not have a particular belief system that they follow, they are someone who would be categorized as “None” on the census, but not an atheist, the term often used is “spiritual, not religious”. I listened and asked questions and then explained my concept of “Blessing” to them, they listened with interest. I described what I would do in a ceremony with a child and how we could develop that. We all walked away with ideas buzzing around in our minds and souls, I look forward to creating something and sharing the blessing in the summer.

When I conduct such ceremonies with children, what some call Christenings, or Baptisms, or welcoming and naming ceremonies, I simply call them “Blessings”, I use water, but not to wash away sin, our tradition rejected this concept long ago. I do not believe that any child is born into this world carrying any baggage; I cannot and will not accept that. Instead, what I do is celebrate and bless the life of the child. I touch their brow, their lips and their hands to bless their thoughts, their words and their deeds and ask for promises to be made by the family and God parents to offer guidance, to help them do good, so as to be a blessing to the world. I would think that both Margaret and Margery who were lifelong Unitarians would have had a similar ceremony when they were infants.

My whole theology, my belief is of blessing, that we are here to live our lives as a blessing, that the dash between our dates of birth and death should be about blessing, both giving and receiving as much as possible. By the way this is not something I have made up myself, there is a long and rich history to it.

In “Original Blessing”, Matthew Fox claims that blessing runs like a thread through the whole creation story. He says “ ‘Original Blessing’ underlies all being, all creation, all time, all space, all unfolding and evolving of what is.” And quotes Rabbi Herschell who said “Just to be is a blessing, just to live is holy”

He does not claim that humanity is incapable of wrong doing, even evil. Quite the opposite, as history has shown. As the present shows. Of course there is human frailty and obvious limitations. There is no denial of sin, just a rejection of “Original Sin”. What he is saying is that this brokenness can never outweigh the many gifts that we do have to offer and that life has to offer us. That we can live a life of blessing and thus be blessed by life.

He says that:

“A theology of blessing is a theology about a different kind of power. Not the power of control or the power of being over or under, but the power of fertility. Blessing is fertility to the people of Israel and to the Native American and other pre-patriarchal religions.”

These teachings are close to the earth, to the cosmos. They are linked to Jesus’s teachings expressed in the Beatitudes “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness; blessed are the peace makers...” There is nothing new in the teachings he is simply saying that we share our blessings by giving of ourselves to others, by being a bright spot in people lives. It is an active, living, breathing way. It is “Love’s Way”.

Or as I say we need to bless more, we can all bless, we bless by giving ourselves wholeheartedly to life…In all that we feel, all that we think, all that we say and all that we do.

As I was driving back from Margery’s funeral, I was reflecting on some of the people who have blessed my life. I was also a little caught up in some serious concerns, that were weighing heavily on my heart. The type that keep me too much in myself. I took Molly out for a walk. She had been really good as I left her maybe five or six hours, which is too long. She was pleased to see me, but was calm about it. As we headed out I said hello to a few folk I met in town, the staff in Café Nero waved and smiled at us as we walked on by and we went to park where Molly ran free, what a blessing and utter joy it was watch her so happy, so free.

As she played with a little dog she has played with since they were both puppies, Molly is just two weeks older, I was reminded of a beautiful piece of wisdom from Forrest Church’s masterpiece “Love and Death: My Journey Through the Valley of the Shadow”, written while he was dying of esophageal cancer. He asked, "knowing that we will die, what should we do?" To which he answered, "we should live, we should laugh, and we should love." He then recalled a lesson he learnt from his children, about living. One day, when they were young, he was walking them to school, on a busy New York street. Suddenly a car swerved round a corner and almost killed them all. Forrest was incensed by this, but he remembers, "my kids just laughed, romping blithely down the sidewalk, jumping from tree to tree as they always did, trying to touch the leaves." The kids were celebrating, nay singing the joy of living, and they "had the right idea. Why didn't I think to jump and touch the leaves?"

This is surely a tale of blessing. Forrest believed that it was living, loving and laughing that took real courage, they required heart, while dying didn’t really take much courage at all, in his eyes that just came naturally. Something he was experiencing as he wrote these words. Words that have been such a blessing to my ministry.

Now to really live Forrest suggested a simple little mantra:" Want what you have. Do what you can. Be who you are." He didn’t suggest that this would be easy but it is the only way to live and in so doing we will live in such a way that our lives will prove worth dying for by the love we leave behind.

Perhaps somewhere in that little mantra is an answer as to how we live by and through blessing. It is to want the things that make up our lives and not wish for something else and in so doing we might just begin to be who we truly are, instead of wishing we were someone else. In so doing we can do the things that we are able to do and thus bring deep meaning to the little bit of the dash that we are living right now. In so doing we will bless life, and it will bless us in return.

This is the gift of life, the beautiful gift of being alive in this ordinary moment, a moment that can become deep and meaningful, not only for ourselves but for those we get to share our lives with. This is blessing, this is live by and through blessing. For we never know how long we’ve got left how close we are to the end of the line, the last part of dash. Nore, do we know how close those we love are to the end of theirs. How much time we have left to bless and be blessed.

Peter has requested a poem to be read at Margaret’s memorial service. He said he decided on it when he was reading the names of the wall of “The Garden of Remembrance” at Dunham Road, how it states their names and their dates of both birth and death, but nothing of their lives. He made a powerful point. It says nothing of how they blessed and how they were a blessing, that is for those who live on to know and hopefully share. I thought that what peter shared with me was a blessing in its self.

So with this in mind, I am going to end this morning with the poem, which I have shared before, “The Dash” by Linda Ellis

“The Dash” by Linda Ellis

I read of a man who stood to speak at a funeral of a friend. He referred to the dates on the tombstone from the beginning…to the end.

He noted that first came the date of birth and spoke of the following date with tears but said what mattered most of all was the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all the time they spent alive on earth and now only those who loved them know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not, how much we own, the cars…the house…the cash. What matters is how we lived and loved and how we spend our dash.

So, think about this long and hard; are there things you’d like to change? For you never know how much time is left that still can be rearranged.

To be less quick to anger and show appreciation more and love the people in our lives like we’ve never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect and more often wear a smile…remembering that this special dash might only last a little while.

So, when your eulogy is being read, with your life’s actions to rehash, would you be proud of the things they say about how you lived your dash?

Amen

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