A Never-Ending Story: Beginning, Middle and End?

Forrest Church claimed that ”religion is our human response to being alive and having to die”.

We human beings are meaning makers. One way we try to make sense of it all, to find meaning, is through story. Religion at it’s best is about telling stories. Our personal stories and our stories about we as a people.

Our lives are made up of all kinds of stories, that tell us who we are. We connect with one another through the telling of these stories. We all have our stories and we love to hear stories. Stories come in a variety of form too. Poetry is often a kind of story. A good poet will see something and tell us a story through the art of poetry.

Here is wonderful example by Billy Collins, on the art of storytelling through poetry, “Aristotle”.

“Aristotle” by Billy Collins

This is the beginning.
Almost anything can happen.
This is where you find
the creation of light, a fish wriggling onto land,
the first word of Paradise Lost on an empty page.
Think of an egg, the letter A,
a woman ironing on a bare stage
as the heavy curtain rises.
This is the very beginning.
The first-person narrator introduces himself,
tells us about his lineage.
The mezzo-soprano stands in the wings.
Here the climbers are studying a map
or pulling on their long woolen socks.
This is early on, years before the Ark, dawn.
The profile of an animal is being smeared
on the wall of a cave,
and you have not yet learned to crawl.
This is the opening, the gambit,
a pawn moving forward an inch.
This is your first night with her,
your first night without her.
This is the first part
where the wheels begin to turn,
where the elevator begins its ascent,
before the doors lurch apart.

This is the middle.
Things have had time to get complicated,
messy, really. Nothing is simple anymore.
Cities have sprouted up along the rivers
teeming with people at cross-purposes—
a million schemes, a million wild looks.
Disappointment unshoulders his knapsack
here and pitches his ragged tent.
This is the sticky part where the plot congeals,
where the action suddenly reverses
or swerves off in an outrageous direction.
Here the narrator devotes a long paragraph
to why Miriam does not want Edward's child.
Someone hides a letter under a pillow.
Here the aria rises to a pitch,
a song of betrayal, salted with revenge.
And the climbing party is stuck on a ledge
halfway up the mountain.
This is the bridge, the painful modulation.
This is the thick of things.
So much is crowded into the middle—
the guitars of Spain, piles of ripe avocados,
Russian uniforms, noisy parties,
lakeside kisses, arguments heard through a wall—
too much to name, too much to think about.

And this is the end,
the car running out of road,
the river losing its name in an ocean,
the long nose of the photographed horse
touching the white electronic line.
This is the colophon, the last elephant in the parade,
the empty wheelchair,
and pigeons floating down in the evening.
Here the stage is littered with bodies,
the narrator leads the characters to their cells,
and the climbers are in their graves.
t is me hitting the period
and you closing the book.
It is Sylvia Plath in the kitchen
and St. Clement with an anchor around his neck.
This is the final bit
thinning away to nothing.
This is the end, according to Aristotle,
what we have all been waiting for,
what everything comes down to,
the destination we cannot help imagining,
a streak of light in the sky,
a hat on a peg, and outside the cabin, falling leaves.

Way, way before the Jospeh Campbell outlined the eleven stages of the “Heroes Journey” and the wonderful Kurt Vonnegut illustrated the shape of stories, with practical beauty and humour, it was Aristotle who formulated the notion that a story must have a beginning, a middle, and an end. Now of course we clever people who live today would say, well obviously. That said what goes without saying today, had to be said by someone in the first place and then repeated over and over again, just like any good story. The best stories are not heard the once, they are repeated again and again and again.

Phil Cousineau believes that stories save our souls. In “The Oldest Story in the World: A Mosaic of Meditations on the Secret Strength of Stories” he observed that this much he knew:

"Every day we have at least one gut-check moment. Every day we are asked, 'Do you want to hear a story?' A hundred times a day our deeper life awaits our signal that, yes, we are listening. Whether we are camped around a fire on the Comanche Moon trail, sitting in the literary salons of Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas on the Rue des Fleurs in Paris, craning our necks during a Hollywood studio script meeting, cosseting our children by reading out loud to them from the great round of Harry Potter adventures, or trading old baseball stories in the stands with old teammates, we are responding to the blue longing in our restless souls to be carried away by the kind of story that makes life worth living.”

Our lives are made up of stories. This is what we do. We tell and we listen to stories. As the poet Muriel Rukeyser remarked 'The world is made up of stories, not atoms.'

Stories are not fact, they are not history, they are “Mythos”. They reveal a deeper universal “truth” that all people can connect to regardless of time and place. Mythos reveals a deeper “truth” about the human condition and nature of reality. They help us engage in the conversational nature of existence. A story is a deep conversation with life that enables us to connect more deeply to the meaning in life. Even good history is really about the telling of stories, it is not just prosaic fact. History comes alive by the telling of the stories within the events

Stories and story-telling have been distilling wisdom throughout the generations and I have no doubt that this will continue on into eternity. Yes, a good story has a beginning, a middle and end, Aristotle revealed this truth. The absolute truth is that as story ends, it goes on, it begins again. As Limahl sang it’s a “Neverending Story”.

Here is a never-ending story. It is taken from “Concentration and Compassion: More Stories from the World’s Spiritual Traditions” by my friend and retired colleague Rev Bill Darlison. It goes by the title

“The Endless Story”

In the Far East there was a great king called Calapha who had no work to do. Every day, and all day long, he sat on soft cushions and listened to stories. And no matter what the story was about, he never grew tired of hearing it, even though it was very long. “There is only one fault that I find with your story,” he often said: ‘It is too short.’

All the story-tellers in the world were invited to his palace, and some of them told tales that were very long indeed. But the king was always sad when a story was ended.

At last he sent word into every city and town and country place, offering a prize to anyone who should tell him and endless tale. He said, ‘To the man that will tell me a story which shall last forever, I will give Zaidee, my fairest daughter, for his wife; and I will make him my heir, and he shall be king after me.’

But this was not all. He added a very hard condition. “If any man shall try to tell such a story, and then fail, he shall have his head cut off.’

Zaidee was very pretty, and there were many young men in that country who were willing to do anything to win her. But none of them wanted to lose their heads, and so only a few tried for the prize.

One young man invented a story that lasted three months, but at the end of that time, he could think of nothing more. His fate was a warning to others, and it was a long time before another story-teller was so rash as to try the king’s patience.

But one day a stranger from the South came into the palace.
‘Great king,’ he said, ‘is it true that you offer a prize to the man who can tell a story that has no end?’
‘It is true,; said the king.
‘And shall this man have your fairest daughter for his wife, and shall he be your heir?’
‘Yes, if he succeeds,’ said the king. ‘But if he fails, he shall lose his head.’
‘Very well, then,’ said the stranger. ‘I have a pleasant story about locusts which I would like to relate.’
‘Tell it’ said the king. ‘I will listen to you.’
The story teller began his tale. ‘Once upon a time a certain king seized upon all the corn in his country, and stored it away in a strong granary. But a storm of locusts came over the land and saw where the grain had been put. After searching for many days they found on the east side of the granary a crevice that was just large enough for one locust to pass through at a time. So one locust went in and carried away a grain of corn; then another locust went in and carried away a grain of corn; then another locust went in and carried away a grain of corn.’
Day after day, week after week, the man kept on saying, ‘Then another locust went in and carried away a grain of corn.’
A month passed; a year passed. At the end of two years, the king said, ‘How much longer will the locust be going in and carrying away corn?’
‘O king! Said the story-teller, ‘they have as yet cleared only one small corner; and there are millions more grains of corn in the granary.’
‘Stop, Stop!’ cried the king, ‘You will drive me mad. I can listen to it no longer. Take my daughter; be my heir; rule my kingdom. But do not let me hear another word about those horrible locusts!’
And so the strange story-teller married Princess Zaidee, and he lived happily ever after in the land for many years. But his father-in-law, the king, had had enough of the endless stories.

One of my great pleasures is listening to people’s stories. I mentioned last week that I listened to 105 year old man tell his story. It was a beautiful experience as he spoke so eloquently, for 45 minutes, about his 70 years of recovery. He talked about many trials and tribulations as well as loves and joys he had experienced in such a long life. He spoke mainly about love and forgiveness. There seemed not a hint of regret and or pity in his voice. He shone like a light and had the most amazing skin. If you could manufacture what he had as a beauty company you would make a fortune. You cannot though. The feeling I got was of a man still looking forward to whatever story he still had to live. His story will one day end, but not just yet.

I was invited to share my story the other day. Afterwards a young man approached me and said he had heard my story before, even though we had ever met. As he listened to me he said he had heard my story before. Here was three years later a new person to recovery and heard my story from my moth. Apparently what he had heard had stayed with him and eventually prompted him to act. We came together that day and he heard and connected with it. I could have wept, but instead I just simply smiled.

Here is a classic parable from the New Testament on “Love and Forgiveness”, from Luke’s Gospel Chapter 15 vv 11-32

The Parable of the Prodigal and His Brother

11 Then Jesus[a] said, “There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the wealth that will belong to me.’ So he divided his assets between them. 13 A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant region, and there he squandered his wealth in dissolute living. 14 When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that region, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that region, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. 16 He would gladly have filled his stomach[b] with the pods that the pigs were eating, and no one gave him anything. 17 But when he came to his senses he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! 18 I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.” ’ 20 So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. 21 Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’[c] 22 But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate, 24 for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate.

25 “Now his elder son was in the field, and as he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. 27 He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf because he has got him back safe and sound.’ 28 Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command, yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your assets with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’ 31 Then the father[d] said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’ ”

The great sages like Jesus and the Buddha excelled in storytelling. They knew how to relate to and reach people, that a story could open them up, that it could put flesh on the word. Shaman and elders of other traditions shared this wisdom, as they told their tales around the campfires and gatherings. They drew their listeners to deeper visions of life with imagery and symbolism. The storyteller has always been with us and is with us today. Today everyone is a story teller. On social media we have our stories, they are designed to be shared. Like all classic tales, these stories are an interesting mixture of the good and bad, the negative and the positive, the light and dark.

The old stories were not just entertainment, they were trying to teach something about the nature of humanity and life itself, they had a kind of morality about them, an ethic a meaning,. Some say that today this narrative has almost disappeared.

Post-modernism would claim that today there is no longer one narrative. The French philosopher Jean-Francois Lyotard has defined post-modernism as ‘the death of metanarrative’. He claimed that we no longer have nor need the big stories ‘that tell us who we are, where we come from, and what we are called to do.’

Personally, I am not convinced by this argument as I do see universal qualities in all these tales. Whether it’s the one I hear from friends and family, or the one I see on the big screen, or the one I read in some ancient text. The stories may be told in different ways but they still connect us with one another through time and space. They do more than connect us though, they heal us, they renew us and spur us on to greater things. Regardless of when they were first told and by who they still have the capacity to tell us who we are, where we come from and what we are called to do.

Here's a favourite story from my favourite character, someone I can relate to.

“One afternoon, Nasruddin and his friend were sitting in a cafe, drinking tea and talking about life and love. His friend asked: ‘How come you never married?’

‘Well,’ said Nasruddin, ‘to tell you the truth, I spent my youth looking for the perfect woman. In Cairo I met a beautiful and intelligent woman, but she was unkind. Then in Baghdad, I met a woman who was a wonderful and generous soul, but we had no common interests. One woman after another would seem just right, but there would always be something missing. Then one day, I met her; beautiful, intelligent, generous and kind. We had very much in common. In fact, she was perfect!’

‘So, what happened?’ asked Nasruddin’s friend, ‘Why didn’t you marry her?’

Nasruddin sipped his tea reflectively. ‘Well,’ he replied, ‘it’s really the sad story of my life…. It seemed that she was looking for the perfect man…’ “

I love Nasruddin, the holy fool. You will find characters like him in most cultures. Through humour they reveal deep truths, ones that are too often hidden.

Humour is something that helps us through the great trials of life. Many of the great stories have laughter and humour within them. Sadly humour can be absent in the spiritual life, it ought not to be. There is something lacking in a spirituality that takes itself too seriously. The spiritual life can at times be perceived as an arid and serious world, utterly devoid of humour and lightness. Many of us look at the spiritual, the religious life, as if were a dose of rather distasteful medicine. We may well see the benefits of it, but aren’t sure we would like the way it tastes. We are frightened that it might actually reduce our experience of life. We can easily become too intense and earnest in our approach to spirituality; by doing so we can view laughter as sacrilegious and end up apologising for the freedom that it can breed. We should never apologise for experiencing joy and laughter. The spiritual life needs humour. There is humour in the ancient tales, so surely there is a place for it in our age. There is always room for Divine humour. “Life is too serious to be taken too seriously.”

As we come towards the end of this adventure in story I wonder what your story is. What is the story that speaks to you and of you? Where do you find yourself, what gives you the permission to simply be? What is your favourite story. Here is one of mine:

It comes from "Have a Little Faith" by Mitch Albom.

“A man seeks employment on a farm. He hands his letter of recommendation to his new employer. It reads simply, `He sleeps in a storm.’

The owner is desperate for help, so he hires the man.

Several week pass, and suddenly, in the middle of the night, a powerful storm rips through the valley.
Awakened by the swirling rain and howling wind, the owner leaps out of bed. He calls for his new hired hand, but the man is sleeping soundly.

So he dashes off to the barn. He sees, to his amazement, that the animals are secure with plenty of feed. He runs out to the field. He sees the bales of wheat have been bound and are wrapped in tarpaulins. He races to the silo. The doors are latched, and the grain is dry.

And then he understands.

`He sleeps in a storm.’

My friends, if we tend to the things that are important in life, if we are right with those we love and behave in line with our [beliefs], our lives will not be cursed with the aching throb of unfulfilled business. Our words will always be sincere, our embraces will be tight. We will never wallow in the agony of `I could have, I should have.’ We can sleep in a storm.

And when it’s time, our good-byes will be complete.”

In “Crow and Weasel” Barry Lopez said

“The stories people tell have a way of taking care of them. If stories come to you, care for them. And learn to give them away where they are needed. Sometimes a person needs a story more than food to stay alive. That is why we put these stories in each other’s memory. This is how people care for themselves.”

I will continue to listen to the stories and when they come to me I will nurture them, I will take care of them and I will continue to give them away, we all need them. I ask that you do the same, because by doing so we will better take care of ourselves.

I will continue telling the tale and I will listen as you tell yours. For the story goes on and on. The story is never ending.

So I will leave you with a question to ponder. What is your story? What is the story that speaks to you and of you?

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

Icarus and Goldilocks: Pride, Getting the Balance Right

I will begin this "blogspot" with a little story.

Mulla Nasruddin took his followers to an exhibition. Many things were going on at the exhibition. At one place people were staking much money and trying to shoot arrows to reach a certain target.

Nasruddin gathered his followers and he said, "Come, I have something to show you." Watch and learn.

As he took up a bow and arrow a great crowd gathered, they were intrigued by what was going on. The crowd watched in silence,

Nasruddin took aim and shot an arrow, it fell well short of the target. At this the crowd started laughing.

Nasruddin spoke out, "Stop! Don't be foolish." He turned to his followers and said, "Look, this is what happens when you live with an inferiority complex, when you have no pride in yourself, when you do not believe in yourself. This is how such a person will act, they will never reach the target; they will always fall short of what they are capable of, for their whole heart will never be in it.

At this the crowd fell silent and muttered to themselves: "Yes, there is a lesson in this, there is wisdom here."

He then picked up another arrow and again he took aim. This arrow flew way ahead, far beyond the target. Again the crowd began to laugh.

Again Nasruddin spoke up, "Be silent! You don't understand these secrets." Again he turned to his followers and said, "Look, this is how a person who thinks themselves as being superior behaves, who suffers from Hubris. They will never reach the target. They run so fast that they will bypass the goal, and he will not stop at the goal. They are too confident and think themselves better than anyone else, superior in every sense, above everyone. They are also unbalanced."

Again the crowd fell silent: "Then began to mutter to themselves, yes, there is a lesson here."

Nasruddin took a third arrow and tried again... This time the arrow went directly into the bullseye, right in the middle of the target, he hit the mark. The crowd gasped in silence and waited for what Nasruddin was going to say. He went to the owner and demanded the money.

The owner said, "Why?"

He said, "This is me! The first was the arrow of a someone who suffers from an inferiority complex, who has no pride and thinks they are worthless; the second the arrow of someone who suffers from a superiority complex, who sufferes from Hubris and false pride -- and this is Mulla Nasruddin's arrow. Where is the money?"

We have just passed the spring Equinox, the day when light and dark are in balance. This happens twice a year both in Autumn and Spring. Equinox means “equal night”. The March Equinox is known as the Vernal Equinox, meaning new, as it marks the beginning of spring. In the northern hemisphere as we tilt towards the sun the days grow longer and sunnier. The September Equinox is called the Autumn Equinox, marking the beginning of this season. In the southern hemisphere these seasons are at opposites ends of the year.

This time of celestial and seasonal balance is a perfect one to check out the balance in our own lives. Where are the extremes in our own lives that need balancing out? How do we see ourselves and each other? Is this in balance? Do we have a balanced view of life? When looking at ourselves do we have a balanced and honest view? How are our “umeres”, as the ancient physicians use to call them, are all four of these fluids in balance? How is your health, your physical, your emotional, your mental and your spiritual health? These four could well be our present day “umeres”. Physicians no longer believe we have four fluids that need to in balance, that said our well being still needs stability and balance.

A balanced life is considered a good life. We are told that we need to balance the books, in the home and in the community. A balanced diet is vital to healthy living. Power needs to be balanced in the public sphere, too much power in any individual or even groups hand is dangerous. Balance is vital to performing physical activities. Most athletes are admired for their balance as much as for their strength and speed.

Balance is seen as vital by virtually all spiritual and philosophical traditions, extremes in any sense lead to danger and destruction. As Robert Fulghum advises “Be aware of wonder. Live a balanced life - learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some.” The philosopher John Locke wrote “An excellent man, like precious metal, is in every way invariable; A villain, like the beams of a balance, is always varying, upwards and downwards.”

Aristotle proposed that the key to authentic happiness and not mere momentary satisfaction or pleasure arose from living a life of “Virtue” and that this could be achieved by the “Doctrine of the Golden Mean”, by living a life centred on a sort of dampened equilibrium. That virtue lays in avoiding excess. He saw courage as lying somewhere between cowardice and recklessness.

One of the great Greek myths illustrates this perfectly. Icarus was advised by Daedalus to fly somewhere between the sun and the sea, but he flew too close to the sun. Centuries later didn’t Goldilocks rejected the porridge that was too hot and too cold for the one that was just right, she chose the middle way, thus following the virtuous life.

Now please don’t get me wrong I am not suggesting that we never rock the boat and must always live in the middle of everything. Balance is not a static thing. It is important to keep on stirring the porridge and to act out whatever our faith in life is. The key is to serve life and the harmony of all life. It is important is to live humbly and to avoid the dangers of hubris that caused Icarus to burn and fall. We are here to fly, of course we are, just not too close to the sun. We need to see ourselves and life itself as it actually is, to not think too less of ourselves, nor too high. It is the same with others. We should put no one on a pedestal, nor should we dismiss anyone. We all have something to contribute, to add to life. The key is to live humbly and honestly and give what we have, not only for ourselves, but for the good of all. It is vital to live with healthy pride and acknowledge our gifts, whilst also watching for the dangers of hubris.

I was out with Molly on Wednesday. I had just returned from Urmston having led “A Common Search for Meaning” group, exploring identity and belonging. I was feeling tired. This is not surprising as the day before I had conducted the funeral service of my cousin Charlton back home in Yorkshire. It was an emotional day and I was wondering if I could find the energy to put together this service. As hard as it was I believe I had done a good job in conducting the service and holding our Charlton’s loved ones through this heartbreaking rite. I had also led a good conversation at Urmston and despite my own grief had fulfilled all my recent commitments will care and attention. I felt I had done all that I was there to do. I was feeling very tired though. One thing I have learnt about myself is that when I am emotionally tired I have to watch my mood, for signs of depression. I was considering this as I took in the life of the town, as I let life wash over me.

As Molly and myself returned home, she found a huge tree branch that she decided she must bring home with her. She walked out of the town centre with her head held high and with a strut in her stride. You could see the pride she had in what she was doing and several people we passed commented on this. It made me smile. I thought to myself, that this is healthy pride.

I recall a while ago being involved in a conversation about pride. It is a word I don’t feel comfortable with. I get a sense of unease when I am asked if I take pride in my work. The psychologist Hannah who I saw for a few months last year, noticed this about me too. There is something in me that does not like to acknowledge a sense of pride.

The reasons for this is that I have seen the destructive nature of the negative aspects of pride. How it can stop people making the first move bringing healing. How it stops folk admitting where they are wrong and putting things right. Unhealthy pride and at its most dangerous Hubris can be deeply destructive.

Hubris is the Ancient Greek word for overstretching ourselves; it translates as arrogance or overwhelming pride. This is the archer who overshoots the mark in Nasruddhin’s story. The ancient Greeks saw Hubris as the very root of tragedy. Their tragic dramas played out at their religious festivals centred on human beings, often rulers, who forgot their human limitations. In these tragedies the audiences were reminded of the dangers of acting like immortals or Gods. They taught the value of knowing themselves, who they really are and to know what it is to be truly human.

Perhaps those that rule our world, our leaders, the financiers, the media moguls and even the celebrities who many of us lookup to in awe in the same way that the ancient Greeks looked at their God’s should take heed of these stories. The Empires do eventually fall like the walls of Jericho or burn like Rome. Or they are brought to a standstill by nature or in recent times a global pandemic.

Hubris is a dangerous and deadly thing, the ancient Greeks were correct to warn of its dangers, something that our leaders especially need to pay close attention to. That said there is an important place for healthy pride. Too many of us feel that we are not good enough, thus our arrows never reach the mark. Healthy pride is vital to building a sense that you are ok and acceptable as you are. Such things as Gay pride for example have played a vital part in helping people overcome any shame etc about their humanity. Too often in life folk have been rejected for their humanity, it still goes onto today. Sadly, there are still sections of society who some see as unacceptable, too many people victimized. Such peoples need to have their sense of pride lifted to a healthy level, something that all sections of society need to play a role in. There are too many people who are not even invited to take aim at the target, it is vitally important to recognise and accept this. There needs to be a healthy balance in pride.

Just like Nasruddin’s archery tale, the stories of both Goldilocks and Icarus can be seen as allegories for getting the balance right; they seem like allegories about pride. Whilst Icarus burnt because he flew too close to the sun, he would also have drowned if he had not flown at all. There is a healthy balance to pride and it is vital to human flourishing. It is the same as the Goldilocks and the three bears story. One bowl was too cold and another too hot, whilst another was just right, isn’t this just another way of saying you need to fly above the sea, but not too close to the sun; or like Nasruddin warning of the dangers of aiming too high or too low. There is a vital need to find healthy balance in life. This is very much the case with pride. Something I myself am still learning to fully accept. I still find it very uncomfortable to feel proud about my work, even when I know I have done a good job. Of course I don’t do a perfect job, no one can. That said too often I can be overly aware of my shortcomings, this can be crippling.We are all work in progress. We all must find ways to get the balance right. This is not a static thing, it is forever moving. I see clearly that some of my contemporary “Umeres” are somewhat out of balance. I can see that whilst my relationships with life out there is in healthy balance, in some ways my relationship with myself is still somewhat out of kilter.

It is vital to find a healthy balance in our pride in order to find harmony in our relationships with life, with each other, with ourselves and with God. These could also be seen as four other modern day “Umeres”. If we get these in balance, we can contribute fully to life, we can live to our potential and truly know the joy of living.

Isn’t this what life is built upon, our relationships. I suspect above everything that this is the key. To ensure that our lives are in balance in these four aspects of our lives. That our relationship “Umeres” are in balance.

How are your relationship “Umeres”? Are they unbalanced? How is your relationship with life, with others, with yourself and your God? These need to be in balance in order to experience healthy pride and to live fully alive.

Perhaps that is something to check, in this season of balance. How are you in relations to your inner self, the people you share your life with, life itself and your God, however you understand God?

Maybe that is something you could reflect on in the coming weeks.

How are your arrows, are they close to the mark? Is your porridge edible? Are you drowning or flying too close to the sun? We can all fly free.

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

A little bird told me that friendship is the whole of the spiritual life

One of my favourite phrases growing up was “A little bird told me”. I have in recent times begun to use it myself. It’s a cute way of relaying information about people, sharing good news, like birthdays or small achievements. This is basically half of my life, listening to folk tell me stories, sharing and caring. Lots of little birds have been whispering in my ear recently. It seems that my purpose in life is primarily to be a friend, to live as a friend to many. I suspect that my primary role as a minister of religion is to be a good friend, this I am discovering is what it means to live spiritually alive. Maybe this is the whole of the spiritual life, the love that we are supposed to live by.

You can tell a lot about a culture by its language. The English language has many words for different types of rain, probably because it rains a lot. Iceland has about forty words for snow and the ancient Greeks had at least six words for love. These were “Eros”, primarily romantic, sexual or passionate desire. “Philia” which was a deep bond that was formed through friendship and or comradeship. “Storge” which is a kind of familial love. “Ludus” which is a kind of playful or flirtatious love. “Pragma” or longstanding love. This is a form of mature love that develops over long-term relationships say between married couples. “Agape” love, this is a love without prejudice, a selfless love, some call it religious love. Finally “Philautia”, self love. This had a light and shadow side. Its shadow manifested in Narcissism, but its light was seen as vital in order to offer all the other forms of love in a healthy way.

We need all kinds of love to experience a truly fulfilling life. It is though “Philia” love I am exploring today, a love that develops through deep friendships. We all need “Philia” love, for we are relational beings. Everyone needs friends, to experience that deep loving care that is not connected by blood, by family and romantic feelings, a love for those we share our time and space with. I suspect that in many ways this is the love that spiritual community is built upon, actually all forms of community and it is the kind of love that we all need as we attempt to rebuild relationships following the challenges of recent years. There is a sense of anxiety and depression purveying society and I suspect that one of the causes may well be the rationing of philia love. So many of the conversations I have had in recent months have expressed this yearning, this need, this sense that this kind of love is or has been missing in people’s lives. There is a loneliness in so many people’s lives and it is one that I believe stems from a sense of not experiencing “philia” love. So many little birds have been singing this song in my ear. “Hello darkness my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again.”

I recently came across the following story from Sandy Greenberg’s memoir: “Hello Darkness, My Old Friend: How Daring Dreams and Unyielding Friendship Turned One Man’s Blindness into an Extraordinary Vision for Life."

“Hello darkness, my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again” is the opening line from the “Simon and Garfunkel” song “The Sounds of Silence”. According to Sandy Greenberg the inspiration for this line came from his friendship with Art Garfunkel. Yes, Paul Simon wrote the song, and there were other influences, but it was story of Greenberg’s friendship with Garfunkel that the opening line grew from. It is a wonderful example of the power of “philial” love.

Greenberg and Garfunkel met at university and soon shared a deep and close bond, they shared a passion for literature and music. They soon became room mates and best friends and with the idealism of youth, they promised to be there for each other no matter what.

Sandy was struck by tragedy and was diagnosed with severe glaucoma, that destroyed his optic nerves and soon became completely blind. Devastated he fell into a deep depression and gave up his dream of becoming a lawyer. He left university and returned home. Consumed with shame and fear, he cut off contact with his old friends, refusing to answer letters or return phone calls.

Art would have none of it and flew to his friends home and convinced him to return to college, promising that he would be right by his side to make sure he didn’t fall - literally or figuratively.

Art kept his promise and became Sandy’s eyes, it was vital to him that Sandy did not feel alone despite being plunged into darkness. Art began calling himself “Darkness” to demonstrate his empathy and care for his friend, he became his therapy friend, which means caring for the soul. He would say things like, “Darkness is going to read to you now.” Art organized his life around helping Sandy.

One day, while guiding Sandy through the crowded Grand Central Station, Art said he had to go and left his friend petrified and alone, he felt like his only friend had let him down. For two hours Sandy stumbled through the station. He finally got on the right subway train and after exiting the station he bumped into someone who quickly apologised, he immediately recognised Art’s voice! His devoted friend had followed him all the way home ensuring he was safe whilst also giving him the priceless gift of independence. Sandy later said, “That moment was the spark that caused me to live a completely different life, without fear, without doubt. For that I am tremendously grateful to my friend.”

Sandy graduated from Columbia and later earned further degrees at Harvard and Oxford. He married his high school sweetheart and became an extremely successful entrepreneur and philanthropist.

While at Oxford, Sandy got a call from Art. This time it was Art who needed his help. By this time he had formed “Simon and Garfunkel” with Paul Simon and they desperately needed $400 to record their first album. Sandy had $404 in his bank account, but without hesitation Sandy gave his old friend what he needed.

The album was not an immediate success, but one of the songs “The Sounds of Silence” became a global hit. The opening line of which is “Hello darkness my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again,” it echoed how Art always greeted his beloved friend Sandy. I have no doubt that Paul Simon picked up on this story, I am sure “a little bird told him”.

Sandy and Art have remained lifelong friends. Garfunkel said that when he became friends with Sandy, “my real life emerged. I became a better guy in my own eyes, and began to see who I was - somebody who gives to a friend.” Sandy describes himself as “the luckiest man in the world.” There seems little doubt that the power and love of their friendship transformed both their lives. It seems like the perfect embodiment of “philial”, friendship love and its transformative power. It is a love that everyone needs and one that I feel so many folk are yearning for, so much that they often seek love in other less healthy ways.

“Philial” is vital, this is why the phrase “merely friends”, or “we are just friends” has always irritated me. Friends are the people we share our lives with, who in so many ways make our lives what they are. Friends are, to quote Fredrich Buechner’s, the people we choose to “make part of our lives just because we feel like it.” There is no such thing as “Just friends”

Aristotle said, “What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies.”

Emerson wrote, “Let us approach our friend with an audacious trust in the truth of his heart.”

A friend is someone you can trust, you can rely upon, someone who will be there for you. I have been blessed with such friendships throughout my life. Some have been there for decades and others for shorter periods of time, but we have touched one another’s lives in deep and meaningful ways. We have laughed and we have cried together. We have enjoyed some wild and crazy times together and we have grieved as we have lost one of our number. I have lost a lot of friends over the years, far too many. Each loss breaks my heart; each loss takes a little piece of my heart. Love hurts.

A friend helps you become a better person, certainly my friends have helped me to do so, they have spurred me on by their example and encouragement and occasional criticism. This was a central claim of Aristotle’s “Ethics” who envisioned an escalating competition in goodness. He suggested that people try to do their best so as to be valued and respected by their friends thus inspiring them to do likewise.

Friendship is a key component of Buddhism. This is illustrated in the following tale:

One day while the Buddha was out walking with his attendant Ananda, Ananda declared, “Teacher, to have companions and comrades on the great way is so amazing! I have come to realize that friendship is fully half of an authentic spiritual life.” They continued walking in silence when eventually the Buddha responded. “No, dear one. Without companions and comrades, no one can live into the deep, finding the true harmonies of life, to achieve authentic wisdom. To say it simply, friendship is the whole of the spiritual life.”

Could this be true? Is friendship the whole of the spiritual life?

Jesus said to his disciples, in John’s Gospel “I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything.” To me this what a true relationship with God is about, friendship. Something that we are meant to mirror in our lives. This if you like is the Kin-dom coming alive in our lives. We gain knowledge of the spiritual life through living in such an intimate relationship with God, with life and with one another.

I’m with the Buddha and Jesus, I believe that friendship is the whole of the spiritual life. In fact, to live spiritually is to truly be a friend to life. This is how knowledge is truly revealed. This is the kin-dom of love, coming alive in our lives. This is how we make our lives a scared space. This is how we manifest love in our lives, by being a friend to life. This is what being a part of a spiritual community is about, becoming a friend to life and to all we meet. Friendship is those little birds whispering in my ear, share deep concern.

It begins with radical acceptance. To accept those we meet as they are, exactly as they are. This does not mean we don’t point out when someone is in the wrong, no it just means we love and accept them right or wrong. It’s also about raising one another up through our example. You see by being the best we can be, in loving friendship, we automatically encourage our friends to be the best version of themselves that they too can be, just like Art and Sandy did.

So my friends I invite you to join with me in the sacred space of friendship. I invite you to remember the friends you have known in your lives, the ones that touched and sometimes broke your hearts, the ones who accepted you just as you are and the ones who inspired you to be the best you, you could be. I also invite you to be the best fiend you can be to life and thus inspire all that you meet on your journey through life, to be the best version of themselves that they can be.

Let’s become good friends, not just friends…Let us become friends to one another and friends to life…

Below is a video devotion based on

the material in this "blogspot"

Do I Contradict Myself? I Contain Multitudes

At the last “Living the Questions” John Poskitt led a really fascinating discussion on his favourite obsession Bob Dylan, on his life, his creative talent even his philosophy. Not that he had singular consistent one. Like all people he was subject to change. John played several of Dylan’s songs, some classics and one I hadn’t heard before, from his most recent album, his 39th original studio recording, “Rough and Rowdy Ways”. The song was “I Contain Multitudes”. The songs theme explores the complexity of Dylan; the complexity of all people actually, suggesting we are a mixture of influences, that have shaped our lives, our attitudes, our vision and our behaviour. This includes the negative aspects of our lives as well as the more positive ones. Human beings, like life, are complex things. Do we contradict ourselves? Yes we do, we contain multitudes.

Now the line on which the song is based comes from the following from Walt Whitman’s “Leaves of Grass”.

Do I contradict myself?
Very well then, I contradict myself.
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

No human being is entirely one thing or another. The seemingly worst of us have good qualities and the best of us have negative ones. There is no perfection in any of us, in life itself. We all of us contain multitudes of contradictions, people constantly surprise me, I hope I do them.

In “Resurrection” Tolstoy captures this idea when he states (edited using gender inclusive language)

“Every person bears within him or herself the germs of every human quality, but sometimes one quality manifests itself, sometimes another, and the person often becomes unlike him or herself, while still remaining the same person.”

Do I contradict myself?
Very well then, I contradict myself.
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

How often in life do we say that such and such acted out of character. Well maybe they just displayed an aspect of their character that is rarely seen. We are all complex, we contain multitudes. It is vital that we recognise that in others and one another. To be fully human is to be complex and inconsistent. I have been thinking of this as I have thought of a dear friend and congregant who died this week. A strong, passionate, vivacious character, a person who could get things done and would do anything for anyone. This of course was not all that she was, like all of us she had her own demons and succumbed to them in the end. So many people are feeling the pain of her loss this week. I most certainly have been doing. As I felt constant grief and loss for the world, I would hope we all do. There is suffering everywhere and in everything, but that is not all there is. Life is not suffering, but there is suffering in everything. There is horror and there is violence, but that is not all there is, there is love, there is compassion, there is deep, deep care. People care a lot. Never stop caring. To care of course originally meant “sorrow, anxiety, grief.” From an Old Anglo Saxon word karo meaning sorrow or lament, from a proto Germanic word Kara. The modern German phrase Kairfretag meaning Good Friday shares this same root. Isn’t the whole world lamenting at the horrors in the Ukraine. That said this is not all that is life. I have witnessed and experienced more love this week, than I can remember doing for a long time.

Do I contradict myself?
Very well then, I contradict myself.
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

I know myself I am full of contradictions. I am inconsistent in what I believe about life, faith and God. I have been considering that his week as I have felt the grief of the loss of my friend, especially the way her life ended. Grief changes us, it should and each new loss builds into others. Nothing in life is experienced within itself. I have been thinking of profound spiritual experiences I have had, moments that have transformed my experience of life. Some have been the most beautiful and uplifting, some of been the most excruciatingly painful. An agony I experienced like no other, came at the moment of a great loss in my life, one I only discovered had happened much later. A moment that changed my whole life, a moment I wish had never happened, but was beyond my control. Some of these most powerful moments have been experienced alone and in isolation and others shared with others. Some my rational mind has attempted to explain away, others I have accepted. Each contained their own multitude of experiences. What they have done is better enabled me to do the work I have been given, despite the complexities of my humanity. All have enabled me to live a little better from that “Love that passeth all understanding”. They have all enabled me to care more, but not without deep sorrow.

Life is not always as it seems and sometimes this is down to perspective and point of vision. Even light can be a tricky and contradictory thing, as the physicist Niels Bohr discovered when he tried to describe the nature of electrons and neutrons, lights elementary units. He discovered that under some experimental conditions, these units behaved as though they were particles, but under other experimental conditions they behaved as though they were waves.

So which one is correct? Were they particles or were they waves? Surely light could not be both? Surely they must be one or the other? Well Niels Bohr said they were both. He said the observer and the circumstances of the observer make a difference, and so you need a "principle of complementarity" to understand the nature of light. He concluded that under some observational circumstances the units of light must be considered particles, and under other circumstances they must be considered waves. It would appear that the two points of view both compliment and contradict each other. So, by taking both together you improve the picture, even though they contradict themselves.

So, despite the challenge that comes with accepting these complimentary contradictions they paint an enlarging view of the nature of life. I suspect it is the same with us, with our lives, with life in general and certainly the spiritual life. In fact, I would suggest that complimentary contradictions help to enhance the spiritual life, for after all the spiritual life is one of paradox.

Do I contradict myself?
Very well then, I contradict myself.
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

David Whyte suggests an interesting paradox with regards to the spiritual life. He believes that the deeper our commitment to the principles in our lives, the more fluid life starts to feel. True commitment often doesn't mean rigidity, it's more likely to result in flow and movement. Commitment is liberating and contradictions are complimentary.

The world’s religious traditions are no stranger to paradox. Taoism is full, or do I mean empty, of them. Here is one example:

Fullness and emptiness give birth to each other.
Difficult and easy complete each other.
Long and short shape each other.
Tones and voice harmonize with each other.
Front and back follow each other.
Therefore wherever the sage is, he dwells among affairs by not doing.
He teaches without words.
The ten-thousand things arise, but he doesn’t impel them.
He gives birth, but he doesn’t possess.
He acts, but he doesn’t rely on what he has done.
He has successes, but he doesn’t claim credit.
So by not claiming credit, he is never empty.

The teachings of Jesus are firmly grounded in paradox. He said “the first shall be last”; “empty yourself and be filled”; “lose yourself and be found” The epistle Paul wrote “As dying, and, behold, we live”; he said of his fellow Christians “As sorrowful, yet always rejoicing, as poor, yet making many rich, as having nothing, and yet possessing all things.”; and he said of himself “When I am weak, then I am strong”

Aristotle saw this as absolute twaddle of course. He is the great grandfather of scientific methodology, of all who pride themselves on their critical faculties and all who claim rationality. He talked of the law of the excluded middle. Put simply something cannot be both hot and cold at the same time. How can anyone argue with such logic? We cannot be rich if we are poor; we cannot be first if we are last; we cannot experience joy if our lives are full of sorrow.

Is he correct? Well, he sounds like he is making sense. How on earth can we receive when we are giving? It does not seem to make sense, when thinking logically and yet.

The religious sages tell us otherwise. As does light at least according to Neils Bohr and his observations on the nature of light.

Do I contradict myself?
Very well then, I contradict myself.
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

Of course a paradox does not make sense in a purely logical sense, but to expect it to do so is to fail to understand its purpose. It is the tool that broadens the framework in which we see reality. Things can both contradict and compliment each other.

Paradox stretches the boundaries of truth. Through our imaginations we push truth past its seeming limits. Without imagination, without foresight we would probably never have come down from the trees, or out of the caves. A paradox cannot be solved by conventional truths, it requires unconventional truths. It stretches common sense to the point where it becomes uncommon sense and thus moves our experiences of life forward. It challenges the status quo and the understanding of any given time. This is of course what the great religious sages did, they brought new understanding to their time and place, as does good science.

Our lives are riddled with paradoxes. How often have we heard the following statements? “I am surrounded by people and yet I am lonely” “My life is so full of choices, that I can’t make a decision about anything” or on the more optimistic end of the scale “I am skint and yet I am happy” or “I have so much, because I have so little”

Do I contradict myself?
Very well then, I contradict myself.
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

Life is full or do I mean empty of paradoxes. There are so many contradictions, nothing adds up absolutely. Our ducks will never be truly in a row. This is the nature of existence, both material and spiritual. There are so many contradictions in all of us as there is in life and it is these very contradictions that compliment each other and make far more than the sum of lifes parts, far more. Life contains multitiudes.

So let us keep on contradicting ourselves. Let us share these beautiful contradictions and in so doing we will create something larger than we could imagine, that compliments all our lives. Let us continue enlarging everything by sharing our many multitudes. The more we give it away, the more we will all receive and in abundance.

Let us continue to enlarge our multitides.

Do I contradict myself?
Very well then, I contradict myself.
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

Below is a video devotion based

on the material in this "blogspot"

Anger is an energy: It can destroy or it can create

We live on an angry planet, or at least it certainly seems that way. Anger seems to be everywhere; people appear ever more angry.

A friend contacted me the other day troubled by the anger she had felt toward a friend who had been asking some rather personal, probing questions. She got very defensive. I don’t think her response was inappropriate, she dealt with things well, she certainly wasn’t rude or insulting. The trouble she had was dealing with how she felt afterwards, she was very angry. She asked me how I stayed so calm in such situations. I explained that I had learnt to be like this from a young age. It was my way of controlling the potential anger of others. What I also said was that I had not always dealt with my internal anger though over the years. The anger was still there, and the anger remained just as destructive. I have learnt over time that anger, like all other emotions has a place. It is not wrong to feel angry, there are times when it is entirely appropriate to feel angry, the key is what we do with these feelings, do they inspire us to creativity or do they become destructive.

There is a lot of anger about at the moment. I think the feelings have intensified over the last eighteen months as we have been hit by the Covid crisis. I have noticed that since lockdown ended folk have in strange ways struggled more. I wonder if this has been due in some ways to folk clinging on holding on through it all and now as some sense of normality has returned many of us have struggled more. There is anxiety and a sense of anger that so many of us are expressing.

Yes, folk are angry, but not necessarily at the same things. What I have noticed is that much of this anger seems to become obsessively focused on whatever the object the individual or group might be angry at. There is nothing new in this we humans have projected our obsessive anger on to people, places and things throughout our history. In time the anger becomes ever more deep seated and transforms into resentment, so deep it cannot be reasoned with.

Resentment is a waste of life, as it so quickly becomes all consuming. It can take over your whole life. You will find many examples of this in literature. A classic example would be Captain Ahab. My friend, who I mentioned earlier, produced a copy of “Moby Dick” from her hand bag while we were talking the other day. In Herman Melville’s Moby Dick Captain Ahab is consumed by his rage against the “white whale” “Moby Dick” who in a previous voyage had destroyed his ship and bitten off his leg. So Ahab, vowing revenge, sets out on a voyage to hunt down the “white whale”. He becomes so consumed by his rage and his desire for revenge that as time goes by he no longer sees “Moby Dick” merely as the perpetrator of an evil act but as the “devil incarnate”, as the sum and substance of all evil that occurs in our lives. Today there are many versions of the “White Whale”. Just spend a few hours on social media if you don’t believe me.

Ahab grapples with the “white whale” until the end. He hurls his final harpoon and cries out “to the last I grapple with thee; from hell’s heart I stab at thee; for hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee.”

Now I know this is only a work of fiction. A great work of fiction by the way and one written by a man who had Unitarian links. I understand that Herman Melville worshipped at the “All Souls” in New York. There is something in this work of fiction that speaks to me and I believe to all of us when we look at the power of rage and the destructive nature of deep rooted resentment. We only need to look at the world we live in today to see example of this all around us. Have you ever been consumed by such rage?

They say that anger is like fire. It can smolder for some time and then suddenly blaze or burn with fury. Anger, like fire, of course does serve a purpose, an essential one at times. It can bring warmth where cruel coldness once reigned. It can destroy what is harmful and oppressive, as it has throughout history. The problem of course is that sometimes the right healing does not follow, you have to build again after the destruction.

Anger itself is neither good or bad, it is what is done with this emotion that makes the difference. As Aristotle so wisely recognised when he asked not whether anger is “good” or “bad” but how it shall be used: directed at whom, manifested how, for how long and to what end.

Anger can be an example of care, deep care. I have noticed feelings of anger in myself this week. I have realised that in some situations I have remained too silent, afraid to speak out, when I should have. Some of the anger is frustration at myself. I am becoming aware that the feelings are also a nudge that I should act and speak out. The key is discovering the right and appropriate ways to achieve this and to do so in ways that add to life’s creation and not destruction.

In the Gospel accounts you will see examples of Jesus becoming angry at injustice. The gentle Jesus meek and mild image is not an accurate one. He raged against the religious leaders of his day who seemed to place observance of the law over caring for people. It seems that the heart of the law was missed in pursuit of following the rules. A classic example of this can be found in the Gospel of Luke chapter 13 of Jesus healing on the Sabbath. To Jesus what mattered were the people, that is what he cared for rather than these laws that had lost the spirit of the faith. So what did he do? He healed people on the Sabbath right in front of the Pharisees.

Jesus saw the law had lost sight of the people. He saw his purpose, as a good Jew, to return the law to the people.

I recently came across the following poem “Making a Fist,” by Naomi Shihab Nye

“Making a Fist,” by Naomi Shihab Nye

For the first time, on the road north of Tampico,
I felt the life sliding out of me,
A drum in the desert, harder and harder to hear.
I was seven, I lay in the car
Watching palm trees swirl a sickening pattern past
the glass.
My stomach was a melon split wide inside my skin.
“How do you know if you are going to die?”
I begged my mother.
We had been traveling for days.
With strange confidence she answered,
“When you can no longer make a fist.”
Years later I smile to think of that journey,
the borders we must cross separately,
stamped with our unanswerable woes.
I who did not die, who am still living,
still lying in the back seat behind all my questions,
clenching and opening one small hand.

Anger can be creative, it is wrong to see the feeling as merely negative and destructive. Naomi Shihab Nye’s fist is a gesture of self determination, of the will to live, of a fury to stay alive. This power can become a seed that can compel us to act in ways to aid in the creation of life and not its destruction.

This is beautifully illustrated in the following verse from Thich Nhat Hahn

“For Warmth”  by Thich Nhat Hanh

I hold my face in my two hands.
No, I am not crying.
I hold my face in my two hands
to keep the loneliness warm—
two hands protecting,
two hands nourishing,
two hands preventing
my soul from leaving me
in anger.

He wrote it after the Vietnamese village Ben Tre, that he and his monks had helped to rebuild four times, had been destroyed once again by American bombers. Over time he tenderly cared for his anger, knowing that it could be turned into action needed for his country’s survival.

Anger is an important human emotion, we have it for good reason. You cannot live without it. The key is what we do with the energy. In “Women who run with wolves” Claressa Pincola wrote

“All emotion, even rage, carries knowledge, insight, what some call enlightenment. Our rage can, for a time, become teacher, a thing not to be rid of so fast, … The cycle of rage is like any other cycle; it rises, falls, dies, and is released as new energy.

… Allowing oneself to be taught by one’s rage, thereby transforming it, disperses it. So, rather than trying to behave and not feel our rage or rather than using it to burn down every living thing in a hundred mile radius, it is better to first ask rage to take seat with us. Have some tea, talk awhile so we can find out what summons this visitor.”

We can’t hide from our feelings of anger, nor should we destroy with them, but we do need to realise them and create something from this fire that burns inside our hearts. It is there for a reason and the reason needs to be found or it can actually destroy us. The key is to make good use of the anger. Now what that might be is for each of us to discover. You have those feelings, even if you don’t want to recognise them, the key is to understand them and see what they are compelling you to do in order to participate in the creation of life, for our world needs it. There is far too much destructive rage all around us. It is getting louder and more destructive as time goes by.

So know your anger, do not flee, understand it, make something useful from it, it become a part of the creation of life. Our world so desperately needs it.

I am going to end today with “Uselful Anger” by Stephen M Shick

“Useful Anger” by Stephen M Shick

A good anger swallowed
clots the blood
to slime
—Marge Piercy

But what is to be done with it,
this anger that dare not be swallowed?

Should it be diluted with denial, cooled with indifference?
Should it be sweetened with good intentions,
softened with lies?
Should it be spewed out red hot over searing tongues,
scorching the guilty and innocent alike?

What’s to be done with it,
this anger that dare not be swallowed?

Don’t dilute it, deny it, or cool it.
Don’t sweeten it or soften it.
But, pause for a moment.

Could you hold it before your eyes
examine it with your heart and mind?
Could you hold it
then touch it to your belly
that place where your soul rests?
Could you let it enter there knowing it is the part of you
that needs to be treated kindly
that needs to be listened to
that needs to be honored?

For it has the power to save you,
to save us all.

Below is a video devotion based on this "blogspot"

Common Sense and the Common Good

I recently spent more time than is probably healthy watching the second impeachment of the former US president Donald Trump. Many of the prosecutors spoke powerfully, but one deeply. This was the lead prosecutor Rep Jamie Raskin. His closing remarks hit me in both the head and the heart, they stirred my soul. I was already aware of the personal tragedy that he and his family had recently struggled with. On the 5^th of January he had buried his son Thomas who had sadly taken his own life following a struggle with deep depression. Raskin persuaded several members of his family to attend the capitol building, to be together on January 6^th, they day of the attack that led to Trumps impeachment. Raskin seems to be a man of deep integrity with sense of duty and purpose. Quite remarkable really in this day and age, to stand up and do your duty, even though you and your loved ones were suffering the deepest kind of grief. Raskin though clearly has a sense of a higher purpose than just himself. Of course his grief was not only for the loss of his son, but also for what had happened to his country.

Throughout the trial Raskin invoked Thomas Paine, who his son Tommy was named in honour of. Paine authored the pamphlet “Common Sense”, in which he famously advocated for American independence in 1776. Raskin stated "Senators, America we need to exercise our common sense about what happened," He continued,  "Let's not get caught up in a lot of outlandish lawyers theories here. Exercise your common sense about what just took place in our country." Later he paraphrased Paine again, from another pamphlet called "The Crisis". "Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered, but we have this consolation: The more difficult the struggle, the more glorious in the end will be our victory." During the trial he said “I’m not going to lose my son at the end of 2020 and lose my country and my republic in 2021. It’s not going to happen.” He closed the prosecution case by updating some of Paine’s language, to be more gender inclusive stating  “These are the times that try men and women’s souls.” Raskin appealed to common sense throughout his addresses, urging the 100 hundred senators who were the jury to use theirs “Common Sense is also the sense we all have in common as a community…Exercise your common sense about what just took place in our country” when deciding whether to impeach former President Donald Trump.

Thomas Paine offered a common sense approach to religion, rejecting authority and creeds of any kind. That each is compelled to seek their own truth and that what mattered is how we live our lives as he stated  “I believe that religious duties consist in doing justice, loving mercy, and endeavouring to make our fellow-creatures happy.”

Jamie Raskin and Thomas Paine got me thinking about “common sense” in general and how vital that is not only at this time, but all times. To repeat Raskin “Common Sense is also the sense we all have in common as a community.” Common sense is about seeing things as they actually are and doing what ought to be done, for the common good.

Generally speaking when we talk of “Common Sense” we speak of something innate within us that does not require specialised training. This is true, but it can go too far. We ought to not reject expert views on matters, just because we believe our guts tell us something else or because someone on the internet told us otherwise. This brings to mind an old word shared by Susie Dent from Countdown this week, “ultracrepidarian” a nineteenth century word meaning “a presumptuous critic; one who loves to give opinions on matters they know very little about.

We must trust all our human senses of course we should, including the sixth, what Carl Jung called our “Collective Unconscious”, that said we must never suspend our reason, our capacity to think and have the humility to listen to those who perhaps know more than we do. If recent times have proved anything it is that just because you have a YouTube channel it does not make you an expert. Neither does some ones passion mean they are correct. It brings to mind a cartoon I saw this week that said, “Let me interrupt your expertise with my confidence.”

There is nothing new in this appeal to “Common Sense”. Aristotle described it as the ability in animals, including humans, to process sense-perceptions, memories and imagination to reach judgements. He claimed only humans have true reasoned thinking which takes them beyond common sense. So he seemed to suggest that in and of itself common sense was not enough, we still need to reason.

Our modern understanding of “Common Sense” dates back to the enlightenment era. In French the saying is “Bon Sense” which means “Good Sense”. I suspect that Descartes thought that common sense was pretty uncommon, suggesting that all have access to it, but that it is rarely used well, he suggested that we ought to be skeptical of it. Needless to say common sense did seem to develop during this time, and it was Paine’s “Common Sense” that became the most influential document of its time, influencing the revolutions of both France and America.

“Common Sense” seems vital right now. There has been an urgent appeal to it these last 12 months as we have struggled to live through this pandemic. In an age when trust in “experts” has eroded people have struggled to know who they should trust. Sadly we are living in the age of the “ultracrepidarian”.

“Common Sense” is vital as we continue to roll out the vaccine. Many people are skeptical of the vaccine, they have their fears. I watched a interesting program on Panorama on this only this week. Vaccines: The Disinformation War It focused on a recent video that has been spread throughout the internet primarily targeting folk who have genuine concerns about the vaccines. It is quite effective. There are many forces who are spreading disinformation about the vaccine and it is feeding into people’s fear. Vulnerable people are being targeted and this is dangerous. It is key to listen to those who know what they are talking about and then use our common sense, a sense that is shared by all and yet at times can appear so uncommon. To quote Jamie Raskin again  “Common Sense is also the sense we all have in common as a community.” Remember that we are in this together folks.

I was very grateful last week that both myself and Sue were able to get our first dose of the Astra Zeneca vaccine, due to our work. I do hope that we will all be in this position soon and that we can begin to return to live the lives we would like, to return to a full common community.

The season of Lent has just begun. I trust that you enjoyed your pancakes on Tuesday, on what I like to call “Flat Yorkshire Pudding Day”. How do you eat yours? Do you prefer savoury or sweet? Being a good Yorkshire man I prefer mine with a thick onion gravy. I know that others think that this is utterly disgusting and makes no sense at all. Makes perfect sense to me, after all that a pancake is a flat “Yorkshire Pudding”.

People often give things up for Lent. I personally though prefer to think of what I can give towards the common good, it makes sense to me, rather than give things up. I suspect that we have all had to give up enough these last few months. So let us instead focus on what we can give to the common good, seems like common sense to me.

Matthew’s Gospel, Chapter 4 describes Jesus facing temptation from “The Devil”, now my common sense cannot believe in a literal being that embodies all that is wrong in the world. That said my commonsense has no problem believing that there are voices both within and without that can knock me from my path. It is so easy to be distracted and tempted down so many pathways in life. Which of the voices both within and without do we trust? How do we rely on our senses, so as to make the right decisions in life? It is not always easy or that simple. We live in an age where there is so much distrust. I have a questioning mind and I ask questions of everything. Sometimes I have to ask the common questions that apply to all, I can’t always do as David Whyte suggests ask my own questions and give up on other peoples question, there are at times that common questions matter to us all. There is a common good and there truly is common sense.  To quote Representative Raskin once again “Common Sense is also the sense we all have in common as a community.”

There is a great deal of power in fear and in anger it influences our reason and our decision making. Who and what do we trust? Some say that we should trust our gut. Should we whilst also ignoring our reasoning faculties? What if what our guts are saying is coming from fear? Sometimes your intuitive feeling is the correct thing, but not alone, sometimes it might be completely wrong. I have noticed an example of this in recent weeks. Actually, it has come to light during the weekly quiz. Sometimes the first thought, the instinctive thought, that seemingly comes from nowhere is correct. Answers that come from some strange hidden place, that you didn’t even know you knew. I am unaware of so much until I find myself in conversation with someone and then suddenly this knowledge is there that I was not even conscious of, the human mind is an incredible thing, a complete mystery to me. That said sometimes that intuitive thought has proved to be completely wrong.

Sue and myself have proved to be a good team at these weekly quizzes, but we could have done better if we had not only relied on our gut feelings but also our reason. We have talked ourselves out of the correct answer on several occasions. One example was last week. We were asked where Mozart was born, which city? Now I knew he was Austrian and so we said to ourselves Vienna, the obvious answer. I then began to doubt this initial feeling and kept on saying, "I don’t think that is right, for some reason I think he was born in Saltzburg." We did not trust this reasoning and stuck with our initial answer Vienna. Mozart of course was born in Saltzburg. It didn’t matter as we won the quiz that week. That said it was still frustrating.

So how do we find the common sense, which seems so un-common at times; how do we trust that sense that we all have in common? Maybe Jamie Raskin can be the example to follow. He stayed true to his moral compass, he followed the greater common good, despite living with intense personal grief. He is certainly an example to me in this time when such people are portrayed as folk who should not be trusted. We have lived through a difficult year, there is light at the end of the tunnel. There is a fresh hope, there is "Respair", if we remain sensible if we live with common sense, a sense that we all have in common a sense that considers the common good, the good of all. It is up to us, it is up to all of us.

Equilibrium: Balancing the Umeres of Living

See Saw Margery Daw,
Johnny shall have a new master;
H shall earn but a penny a day,
Because he can't work any faster,

For reasons way beyond my understanding see saws have been on my mind for some time. It’s an ancient playground game, no doubt we’ve all played on them. It’s a game that you can’t play alone. You need someone else to play the game. It’s a game that is about moving constantly from one side to another. It’s a game in which equilibrium, perfect balance, is never reached. It’s a game of energy, weight and motion. When was the last time you played on one?

It is thought that the rhyme has its origins as a sawyer’s work song, as they would work in pairs and would therefore encourage the other to work faster, thus mimicking the see-saw. It is thought that “daw” in England at least was a lazy person, think of the “Daw Mouse”, always sleeping in Alice in Wonderland.

There seems to be a link between balance and movement. An engineer friend attempted to explain the importance of “dynamic stability” the other day. I am told that the instability enables more efficient response in jet engines. It is apparently the instability that allows the self correcting elements in the engine to self correct very quickly. Or at least this is how I remember the conversation.

I wonder if there is ever perfect balance, equilibrium in life? It seems to me that everything is always moving,perfect balance is never achieved. Perhaps it is better that way.

We have just passed the spring Equinox, the day when light and dark are in balance. This happens twice a year both in Autumn and Spring. Equinox means “equal night”

The March Equinox is known as the Vernal Equinox, meaning new, as it marks the beginning of spring. In the northern hemisphere as we tilt towards the sun the days grow longer and sunnier. The September Equinox is called the Autumn Equinox, marking the beginning of this season. In the southern hemisphere these seasons are at opposites ends of the year.

The next two Equinox’s will be deeply significant for myself and my family. Next September one of my sisters, our Liz, is going to marry her partner Howard Hughes, they have been together for twenty odd years and at Christmas she finally agreed to marry him. I will be conducting a blessing for them after their marriage ceremony back home in Yorkshire. Also on the next Vernal Equinix I will be marrying Sue. I kind if like the symmetry of the two events. Something beautifully balanced in it all.

Now it is said that there are magical properties to the Equinox. Many stories, in a variety cultures, speak of this. One such comes from China. Can you guess what it might be?

Well according to Chinese legend, for an hour before and after the Equinox on Li Chun (the day when Spring Begins), it becomes possible to balance things that otherwise we would not be able to do. On this day it is said that for a short time you can even balance an egg, due to gravity balancing itself. Now apparently this mythos received a great deal of publicity in the 1940’s, even Einstein commented on it. It is said that in the city of Chongqing many such egg standings took place around this time. Now it seems that this wasn’t just a trick, an illusion. The truth is with the right egg on the right surface you can stand an egg on its end on any day of the year.

I was thinking of this story as I woke up on Tuesday morning. Later that day I was talking with friends when one of them began to talk about the danger of catastrophic thinking. Then Sue began to tell the story of “Chicken Lickin”. Anyhow people began to look it up on their phones and recite different versions, there are many. It is sometimes called “Chicken Little” and also “Henny Penny”. As I heard and remembered the story I thought about how ideas and thoughts can spread quickly, particularly fear based ones. I reflected on recent news events. We live in ever more troubling times. Negativity does seem to spread so quickly. We seem to be living in ever more extreme times. I hear so many cries of "The sky is falling"  I thought about how so much of our public discourse is running at the extremes and how there is so little balance in our living these days. Where is the balance?

Maybe we need to find a new kind of equinox, perhaps this is what needs to be given birth to this Spring time. That would be the perfect Easter egg when the day of re-birth, of new beginnings comes.

Of course balance in life is something that is hard to achieve. I suspect it isn’t a constant, static, state of being. We live more like a seesaw constantly moving from one end to the other.

It seems to me that this time of celestial and seasonal balance is a perfect one to check out the balance in our own lives. Where are the extremes in our lives that need balancing out? How are our “umeres”, as the ancient physicians use to call them, are all four in balance? How is your health, your physical, your emotional, your mental and your spiritual health? These four could well be our present day “umeres”, as opposed to those four types of fluids that the ancients use to believe were our bodily "umeres".

A balanced life is considered a good life. We are told that we need to balance the books, in the home and in the community. The treasurer at at chapel has to ensure that they are balanced too. A balanced diet is vital to healthy living. Power needs to be balanced in the public sphere, too much power in any individual or even groups hand is dangerous. Balance is vital to performing physical activities. Most athletes are admired for their balance as much as for their strength and speed.

Balance is seen as vital by virtually all spiritual and philosophical traditions, extremes in any sense lead to danger and destruction. Aristotle proposed that the key to authentic happiness and not mere momentary satisfaction or pleasure arose from living a life of “Virtue” and that this could be achieved by the “Doctrine of the Golden Mean”, by living a life centred on a sort of dampened equilibrium. That virtue lays in avoiding excess. He saw courage as lying somewhere between cowardice and recklessness.

One of the great Greek myths illustrates this perfectly. Icarus was advised by Daedalus to fly somewhere between the sun and the sea, but he flew too close to the sun. Centuries later didn’t Goldilocks reject the porridge that was too hot and too cold for the one that was just right, she chose the middle way, thus following the virtuous life.

Now please don’t get me wrong I am not suggesting that we never rock the boat and must always live in the middle of everything. Remember balance is not a static thing. It is important to keep on stirring the porridge and to act out whatever our faith in life is. The key is to serve life and the harmony of all life in my view. The importance is to live humbly and to avoid the dangers of hubris that caused Icarus to burn and fall. We are here to fly, of course we are, just not too close to the sun.

The key to living in balance and harmony is about relationship with life, with each other, with ourselves and with God, another four modern day “Umeres” if you like.

Isn’t this what life is built upon, our relationships. I suspect above everything that this is the key. To ensure that our lives are in balance in these four aspects of our lives. That our relationship “Umeres” are inbalance. So how are your relationship “Umeres”? Are they imbalanced?

Perhaps that is something to check, in this season of balance. How are you in relation to your inner self, the people you share your life with, life itself and your God, however you understand God?

Maybe that is something you could reflect on in the coming weeks.

I’m going to end this little "blogspot" with a blessing “For Equilibrium” by John O’Donohue

“For Equilibrium”, a Blessing by John O’Donohue:

Like the joy of the sea coming home to shore,
May the relief of laughter rinse through your soul.

As the wind loves to call things to dance,
May your gravity be lightened by grace.

Like the dignity of moonlight restoring the earth,
May your thoughts incline with reverence and respect.

As water takes whatever shape it is in,
So free may you be about who you become.

As silence smiles on the other side of what's said,
May your sense of irony bring perspective.

As time remains free of all that it frames,
May your mind stay clear of all it names.

May your prayer of listening deepen enough
to hear in the depths the laughter of god.”