Monday, 10 February 2025

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"



Monday, 3 February 2025

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 CafĂ© 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"