A Blizzard of Blossom: Beauty Awakens the Soul to Act

I was watching the cherry blossom falling the other day. It was blowing in the wind around the wind telephone, designed to connect the living with those at the other side of the breath of life. There is a message on the telephone quoting Bob Dylan, “the answer is blowing in the wind”. I saw pink snowing blowing so beautifully around the gardens, while Molly was zooming around, sniffing all the new life. It looked so beautiful, it awakened the heart of my mind and got me thinking about the things we see, in our ordinary lives, when we lift up our eyes, our vision, when we live in hope, not expectation or optimism. When we are inspired by beauty. When my eyes are open and my mind isn't trapped in some disappointment from the past, my own or that done by others, or when I am not blinded by some fear of what might or might not be. When the eyes of eyes are awake I feel so alive and I have vision. I see what is so easy to miss.

As I watched it all I was reminded of this lovely poem “Vision” by May Thielgaard Watts

"Vision" by May Thielgaard Watts

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

What a beautiful poem, isn't it lovely. When we live in heart, in courage, in love, we can see these signs of hope everywhere. It comes in the little things, that I think of and share upon awakening each morning. Such beauty compels me to act. It is vital to keep our senses open, despite our fears and worries, despite what troubles us. We must keep our senses open, in order to see things. In order to blessed by beauty and to act from it.

“Beauty awakens the soul to act”, said Dante. Well this is exactly what happened to the local poet and friend of the congregations Oliver James Lomax the other day, as he sat in the chapel gardens and wrote the poem which follows. He said he was looking at one of the Cherry Blossom trees in the chapel garden, and noticed “a blizzard of blossom falling from it, dancing in the low wind, it looked like it was almost shedding its memory. It transported me back to the day my Nan passed away from vascular dementia, there was a blossom tree just like it outside the Palliative Care Ward, also rather joyously, there was also a small boy trying to catch Pokemon in the corridor as I left her for the last time. This poem sits between those two images, a moment that brought a little peace and hope to my grief.”

Here’s the poem. I am sorry you can’t hear it in Oliver’s voice:

“To The Boy Catching Pokémon On The Palliative Care Ward” by Oliver James Lomax

The day nan died
the blossom tree was a blizzard

of gentle data
a white drift of unkept names

shifting like a small god
in the hospital garden.

Mine is, a god of flux
today he is a boy

catching Pokémon in the corridor
his hand consecrates the air

drawing a circle in time
where nothing consents to remain.

I watch from the threshold
of what has already gone,

how often will I
cast into the invisible?

For that glamour and strength
for the colour of her being,

drag the unseen closer
as if it might answer.

The blossom keeps falling
into itself, onto itself

a paper rain blinding the page
where the light

I’m trying to capture and name
cannot remain.

Beauty awakened Oliver’s soul to act and he shared this poem as a result of the awakening.

I just love how the beauty of the falling blossom, blowing up in the wind like a pink blizzard, took Oliver back to a time in his life and awakened something in him, something that brought healing to his soul, but also inspired his soul to act and write there and then. By the end of the day he sent me his poem. His poem inspired the service this devotion is based on, as did so many other things and people. The beauty in many forms inspired our souls to act. The answer was most certainly blowing in the wind that day.

I was awakened by beauty that day. I found myself engaged in several rather beautiful conversations. One was with the beautifully pregnant Rose our choir leader. She told me that she and her husband often see me walking around with Molly. It is an image that makes them both smile. Sometimes stopping to talk, but often just passing by, as I spend my days “farting around” as Kurt Vonneghut described it. It was a beautiful evening singing that night, as we prepare for a concert. I had another beautiful conversation with Alex the Flower man who was concerned about a mutual friend. I passed on his concern and the friend was grateful for this. I had several delightful conversations with people going through their ordinary lives that day. It reminded me of the following beautiful words of Walt Whitman:

“I have perceiv’d that to be with those I like is enough,

To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough,
To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing,
Laughing flesh is enough,
To pass among them or touch any one, or rest my arm
Ever so lightly around his or her neck for a moment,
What is this
Then?
I do not ask any more delight, I swim in it as in a sea.”

To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, Laughing flesh is certainly enough to awaken my soul. All this beauty whether natural or human has awakened my soul to act in more loving and open ways and thus pour out my own love on the world in which I live and breathe and move and have my being. It is a powerful antidote to the ugliness and violence that is going on in this our shared world too. Those forces that separate person from person and fails to recognise our shared humanity. It is easy to get caught up in the Hobbesian nightmare. The truth is that this world is both beautiful and ugly. The problem comes from when we fail to see and be moved by beauty and become overwhelmed by the ugly destructiveness that is part of life. Our souls will be inspired to act by something, better it be beauty.

On Tuesday morning Nick posted a video a blizzard of Cherry Blossom blowing up in the wind and it and all that I had experienced in the last couple of days inspired me to begin to write. I found myself caught up in the “Creative Interchange”. It reminded me of some wisdom from Matthew Fox:

“The universe is in the habit of making beauty. There are flowers and songs, snowflakes and smiles, acts of great courage, laughter between friends, a job well done, the smell of fresh baked bread. Beauty is everywhere”

I had enjoyed the smell of fresh baked goods that morning as I walked into Altrincham. It reminded me of Molly and her sniffing all the new life this spring. Her nose seems more alive as each day passes, it energises her. As J. Ruth Gendler claims “Beauty is an energy, not an image, and that energy can go anywhere; that energy takes on an image, a form, many images, many forms.” Beauty energises and awakens the soul to act; beauty awakens the soul of me in so many indescribable ways and it compels me to act in such a way as to pour out that beauty within on to all I engage with.



Beauty inspired Oliver to write the other day while sitting in the garden; it inspired him to give back to the world, despite experiencing current suffering and being taken back to a place of pain, grief and guilt. The beauty of the blossom blizzard inspired his soul to act.

Beauty manifests itself in so many ways in the world in which we live and breathe and move. It awakens all our senses and thus feeds and nourishes our souls; it awakens our souls and it fills our hearts to overflowing. We not only drink from the well of beauty, we also fill it too. Beauty truly is about the heart, about filling the heart to overflowing. In "Beauty: The Invisible Embrace" John O’Donohue wrote:

"The heart is the place where beauty arrives; here is where it can be felt, recognized and shared. If there was no heart, beauty could never reach us. Through the heart, beauty can pervade every cell of the body and fill us. To use a word that feels like it sounds: this is the thrill of beauty through us. Perhaps this is why we sometimes feel the absence of beauty in our lives; we have allowed the prism to become dull and darkened; though the light is near, it cannot enter to have its inlay of beauty diffused. Sometimes absence is merely arrested appearance. Compassion and attention keep the prism clear so that beauty may illuminate our life. Prayer of course is the supreme way we lift our limited selves towards the light, and ask it to shine into us. "

Beauty not only awakens the soul, but also fills the heart to overflowing, it certainly compels me to pour my heart out on the world in loving ways. In fact perhaps true beauty, certainly in a human sense, is to act morally. As John O’Donohue has pointed out Plato believed that Love was born of beauty and that it tapped into our basic human drive and desire for Good, that it was not a private or self-indulgent act of pleasure and that “the ability to love beauty has created all the good things that exist for gods and men’. He quotes Pseudo Dionysius the Aeropagite who said, "For beauty is the cause of harmony, of sympathy, of community. Beauty unites all things and is the source of all things. It is the great creating cause which bestirs the world and holds all things in existence by the longing inside them to have beauty. And there it is ahead of all as…the Beloved…toward which all things move, since it is the longing for beauty which actually brings them into being."

It is beauty that awakens our souls and inspires us to act lovingly in the world, to pour out our love on the world. How do we do this you may well ask? Well, I believe it begins with our neighbour the very people we interact with on a daily basis. As it has with me once again these last few days

It brings to my mind a passage from Matthew’s Gospel (Ch 26 vv 6-13). It is a much debated primarily because it has been used by some as a justification for tolerating poverty. I believe that to focus on this is to fail to recognise the central message of Matthews Gospel, the abundant blessing of love.

6 Now while Jesus was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper,* 7a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very costly ointment, and she poured it on his head as he sat at the table. 8But when the disciples saw it, they were angry and said, ‘Why this waste? 9For this ointment could have been sold for a large sum, and the money given to the poor.’10But Jesus, aware of this, said to them, ‘Why do you trouble the woman? She has performed a good service for me. 11For you always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me. 12By pouring this ointment on my body she has prepared me for burial. 13Truly I tell you, wherever this good news* is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in remembrance of her.’

The power in this story is in its recognition of abundant love. The woman loves and cares for Jesus. She anoints him with oil because she loves him dearly. It truly is an act of loving, nay gracious abandonment. This is in complete contrast to the grumpy disciples who are definitely of the glass half empty brigade. At least they are consistent though as they appear this way throughout the Gospels. The woman though is overflowing with love and wants to anoint those she loves with this. This is beauty in action. This is a soul awakened by beauty and inspired to act lovingly. Her heart is over flowing with love and she wants to pour out this love onto Jesus who will soon no longer be with her or the disciples.

Just as Oliver’s poem did; just as Nick’s video did; just as Rose’s conversation did; just as Alex asking about a friend did; just as Molly sniffing around as the pink blossom blew did; just as we all can do. We can all pour out this attentive love on one another and all life. We can offer care and attention to each and everyone around us. In so doing we will help create beauty all around us. All we need to do is pay attention open our hearts to beauty and act from it.

This brings to mind the following little anecdote by William McNamara:

“I once lived near a mansion where only one of the many gardeners employed had succeeded with every one of the roses. I asked him the secret of his success. He told me that the other gardeners treated all the roses not unwisely, but too generally. They treated them all in precisely the same way; whereas he himself watched each rosebush separately, and followed out for each plant its special need for soil, manure, sun, air, water, support and shelter.”

Beauty is all around us. We are surrounded by it. If we open ourselves to it, it will fill our hearts, awaken our souls and lead us to act lovingly and morally. This is beauty in action. If we create beauty with our own hands we will touch each individual soul we meet and they will grow and flower to their own full potential. We are here to enjoy the beauty that we are surrounded by and to pour out the beauty that lays within us and thus bring it to fruition in the world around us.

As Desmond Tutu has said:

“We were made to enjoy music, to enjoy beautiful sunsets, to enjoy looking at the billows of a sea and to be thrilled with a rose that is bedecked with dew…Human beings are actually created for the transcendent, for the sublime, for the beautiful, for the truthful…and all of us are given the task of trying to make this world a little more hospitable to these beautiful things.”

Let beauty awake for beauty's sake. Awake from slumber and awake from dreams. Let beauty awake from deep within us, Let beauty pour from us and be lavished upon our world.

May we be caught up in the blizzard of beauty, may we be blown in such a wind.

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

Laughter, Silence and Solitude: Balance and the Paradoxes of Life

Extract from “Creation Spirituality: Liberating Gifts for the Peoples of the Earth” by Matthew Fox

"I sense that the cosmos is not only full of surprises, but also full of jokes. Do all creatures play the role, unwittingly of course, of cosmic comics? Are we here to amuse one another as well as the gods and goddesses, the visible and the invisible? Do the angels laugh at us just as we laugh at them? If life becomes death and death becomes life, and darkness turns into light and light into unbelievable darkness — are there any limits to the amount of jesting that goes on in the universe or the number of surprises that stun us?

"To attempt to live without humor, without awareness of paradox all around us and within us, without the ability to laugh even and especially at ourselves is to contradict the universe itself. Too much sobriety violates the laws of nature. What Eckhart calls 'unself-consciousness' is often expressed in our ability to let go with cosmic laughter; it is a necessary dimension to common survival and therefore to our ethics. Erich Jantsch writes that 'openness to novelty' is part of an evolving consciousness.

"One person I know who dedicated his life to naming the paradoxes of existence was Ken Feit, who called himself a 'spiritual fool.' He challenged persons to attempt to listen to 'the sound of clouds bumping or a car clearing its throat or grass growing or a leaf changing color.' One of his favorite acts was to liberate ice cubes:

"Did you ever liberate an ice cube?
An ice cube, after all, is water that's kept in prison
to serve humans' needs by cooling their drinks
and soothing their headaches.
Well, I sometimes ransom bags of ice cubes
from gas stations,
take them to nearby ponds, and let them go
so they can return
to their water brothers and sisters.

"Is Ken Feit being foolish? Or wise? And what is he bringing out of us by his wisdom, or foolishness, or both? I believe the universe holds the answer."

I have never tried to liberate some ice cubes, but I might just give it a go.

As I returned home from visiting the other day, I popped through Altrincham, and bumped into a couple of people I have got to know, as I wander out and about. The first I know from the dog park. I see him everywhere. He is a delightful Canadian man who has done so many interesting things in his life. He now lives in Altrincham and it has been a delight getting to know him, his wife, his nephew and his two Jack Russell dogs. We talked for a while, as we do, I then moved on headed for home. As I did I bumped into one of my neighbours who I talk with often on the street and in Café Nero. He was asking me about my work, the stresses and strains, he listened and then asked me about meditation. We then shared a delightful conversation about different practices that we have engaged in over the years. I spoke about current practices. We talked and shared and laughed about the times when we have both have got overly serious about our practices. As we were laughing I thought to myself, well sometimes this is the best form of meditation and spiritual practice. Humour literally medicine, or at least it kind of was originally.

A little later I took Molly out to the park. It was a bit wet, but she needed to get out. We met a friend and their dog Ronnie. The dogs had a ball as we talked about both serious and ridiculous things. It began fairly seriously as we spoke of love and loss and grief, the troubles of life. In time though it descended into laughter as we shared stories of our lives and the folk we have known and know. It was a lovely hour of deep connection. One thing I told my friend is that I have never been able to scream. She found this hard to believe and then she began to work it out. As she said I was just born with this strange baritone voice. A child who could talk like an adult before they could walk, but could not scream. They found it hilarious and I found it hilarious as we tried to make sense of this phenomena. I am much too alone, but enough alone, to truly make sense of this. It is phenomena, some people cannot scream. The reason I cannot and have never been able to, is not due to physical damage though, I suspect it is purely psychological. I wonder if anyone else suffers from this, that they have never been able to scream, not one, in their conscious life.

My friend is a writer and I am a minister. We are both observers of life and create from what we see and experience. We make meaning from this. We are also people who spend a lot of time alone and other periods with others. The difference between us though, is that I spend far more time engaging and listening to others than my friend does, it is a requirement of my work. Anyhow I left my friend with the news that you can now watch every single episode of “The Comic Strip Presents” on Netflix.

I had a busy day with folk on Tuesday and as I headed for home I was thinking I need time to be still to let things sink in. I had listened a lot that day and shared somethings from my heart and soul, along as share in some ridiculousness too. So I went home and spent time in silence and stillness, sometime in quiet reflection.

The last few months have revealed aspects about myself, once again, some I like, some I struggle with. Greif and passing through grief, has a way of doing this to person. As I settled down that evening I read the following from Rilke.

“I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone enough” by Rainer Maria Rilke, 1875 – 1926

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone
Enough to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small enough
to be to you just object and thing,
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions,
where something is up,
to be among those in the know,
or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection,
never be blind or too old
to uphold your weighty wavering reflection.
I want to unfold.
Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent;
for there I would be dishonest, untrue.
I want my conscience to be
true before you;
want to describe myself like a picture I observed
for a long time, one close up,
like a new word I learned and embraced,
like the everday jug,
like my mother’s face,
like a ship that carried me along
through the deadliest storm.

I love being with people, but am also aware how much I need time alone to “truly consecrate the hour. Like many ministers I am an introvert in the Jungian understanding. I am the kind of person who re-energises from spending time in solitude. I tend to give my energy when in the company of others and recharge in solitude. I need to be alone, with my God, to truly feel alive in life. This humbles me in the true meaning of the word. It reminds me I am part of the ground the earth. I always remember that linguistically humanity, humility and humus (meaning the earth), share the same linguistic root.

Ralph Waldo Emerson put it more beautifully than me in the following that he wrote whilst reflecting on the wonder of being in the woods.

“Standing on the bare ground – my head bathed by the blithe air, and uplifted into infinite space – all mean egotism vanishes. I become a transparent eyeball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of the Universal Being circulate through me; I am part or particle of God.”

I love the beautiful paradox here “I am nothing; I see all;” I really love the last part “I am part or particle of God.” As I thought of these words an image of a Meme, I had seen on social media, also came to mind. It goes by the title “Serbian Proverb”, it read “Be humble, for you are made of earth. Be noble, for you are made of stars,” These words and that evening sitting reflecting on my day certainly humbled me and I live in hope that they will enoble me too. I know how important it is that I believe this. These two qualities are vital to a fulfilling life, they are not opposing dualities, more complimentary qualities.

It is emptiness, stillness, quietness that reveals the greatest paradox of life. For it is often in this emptiness that we truly understand how important everything is; it is the emptiness that reveals the fullness of life. As I constantly remember everything matters, every thought, every feeling, every word and every deed. For everything is a part of everything else. The mistake is to fall into the despair of emptiness, although perhaps this is a stage that we may have to go through. This mistake is formed from a superficial understanding of emptiness, for in doing so we may well end up dismissing life as a kind of dream, that doesn’t really matter or exist. In doing so we end up dismissing life itself as empty and unsubstantial, that it doesn’t really matter. If we do we enter that dangerous state of seeing the world with contempt and therefore dismiss the very real suffering of others. There is nothing either humble or enobling in this. To me the very point of emptying and going within is to enable me to truly connect with both the joys and sorrows of life, its difficulties and its successes in a very real way and therefore act in a noble way. It is the very stillness that will hold us in the storms we feel or witness and then not turn away but live in the way of love. Almost perfectly illustrated in the poem “I am much alone in this world, yet not alone” by Rainer Maria Rilke, I shared earlier.

“Wisdom tells me I am nothing. Love tells me I am everything. Between the two my life flows”, said the 20th century Hindu guru, Nisargadatta Maharaj, who taught non-dualism. Carl Sagan once wrote, "For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love"

For me in the silence in the emptiness I find the love that connects me to all that is in a truly loving sense. In the emptiness my cup once again begins to runneth over. In so doing I can once again know the fullness of life and live in such a way that is indeed enobling. This is something both my neighbour and myself understand and something we shared in the street the other day.

By deepening in silence we discover that the apparent emptiness holds no real fear, instead it leads us to true beauty and joy; it leads us to the joy of living. In that space we can discover that we are “a part or particle of God”. In doing so we rest in the infinite space that is life and begin to live in both accord and harmony. This silence brings peace, wholeness and well-being. It humbles us for it allows us to see that we are made of the earth and yet also enobles us for we can see that we are made of the stars.

As I reflected that evening I also began to smile at myself and the people I had met and spoke with that day. I remembered the laughter and the connection we had shared in deep seriousness. How this human aspect is so vital to life. Now I have heard it said that humour is also linguistically linked to humility and humanity. It isn’t by the way, not that this matters. Humour has a whole different etymology, which is itself just utterly ridiculous. To be in good humour, meant to be in good health, that the “Umeres” were in balance, the strange coloured substances that moved around our bodies, were in balance, or so they believed a thousand years ago. Sounds funny today. Well ,no doubt when they look back at us and they write our history, they will probably think we were just as ridiculous. This is why laughter is the greatest medicine.

I need time with people to listen and connect and I need time alone. I need time for tears and I need, oh I oh so need, joy and laughter. They bring into a deeper relationship with life and with God. This is something I know for certain I am not alone with.

John O’Donohue claimed "I think that laughter is one of the really vital dimensions of the divine presence that has been totally neglected.

I often feel when the Divine One beholds us obsessed in our intricate maze of anxiety and planning and intentionality, that She can’t stop laughing.

It’s great for people, actually, to laugh, too. I love a sense of humour in a person. It’s one of my favorite things, because I think when somebody laughs, they break out of every system that they’re in.

There’s something really subversive in laughter and in the smile on the human face. It’s lovely and infectious to be in the company of someone who can smile deeply.

I think a smile comes from the soul. And I also love its transitive kind of nature—that if you’re in the presence of someone who has a happiness and a laughter about them, it’ll affect you and it’ll call that out in you as well.

Your body relaxes completely when you’re having fun. I think one of the things that religion has often prevented us from doing is having really great fun. To be here, in a way—despite the sadness and difficulty and awkwardness of individual identity—is to be permanently invited to the festival of great laughter."

We humans are complicated and paradoxical creatures, balls of contradictions. I know that I am. Just like the weather these past few days, we can experience four seasons in just one day. Just like the weather our moods and experiences constantly change. This si why it is so vital to remember to “Be humble, for you are made of earth. Be noble, for you are made of stars,”

None of us knows what the coming seasons will bring. There will be tears, but not always of sorrow, there will be joy and laughter too, if we can but stay open hearted and refuse to retreat back into those shells of self-protection. Let’s not be afraid of our tears, for there are tears of laughter too. Let’s enjoy every season for none of us know how many seasons we have left; let’s not forget, in the words of Conrad Hyers "The first and last word belong to God and therefore not to death but life, not to sorrow but joy, not to weeping but laughter. For surely it is God who has the last laugh."

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

A time to laugh and a time to cry: God’s own medicine

Last weekend I travelled with a dear friend Alex to my little brother “Our Jack’s” wedding. Alex had asked if she come as my plus one and I happily agreed. We had a wonderful weekend away together. She has moved to London this week and I know we will both miss each other massively. We made the most of last weekend and there was a great deal of laughter and tears shared.

I have over recent years conducted and participated in several family funerals. It is my role to hold folk through this painful and tear filled rights of passage. This included two younger cousins last year. The last time I was up in North Yorkshire where our Jack lives, it was to conduct his dad’s funeral. Jack’s dad was my step dad growing up. He was a difficult man, who had many children. Jack is the same age as his eldest daughter’s granddaughter. To say I had a difficult time growing up with him is an understatement. All of we siblings were deeply affected by our formative years. Following his funeral I went through a difficult personal time, it certainly contributed to my marriage failure. It took a long time to come to terms with the complex emotions that followed his death. The last few years have been a time for healing.

Last weekend proved this to me; it proved how much healing has occurred in recent years; last weekend was a time of great joy, filled with humour and so much laughter. The journey home with Alex, in which we stopped a few times, visiting little Yorkshire villages, may well have been one of the most joyful, fun and laughter filled few hours of my life. It will live with me for years.

There were many amusing moments throughout the wedding. One of bride’s party thought I was Jack’s dad. When he discovered I was conducting the service, he almost died of shock, I was not what he expected. The service was humour filled and our Jack burst into laughter at the line “With my body I honour you” for the ring blessing. The service was beautifully received by all and I feel that it was a ritual that brought healing for so many of us.

The speeches were a mixed bag. Our Jack’s was fantastic, the others not so much. What was amusing was the constant running commentary of Jack’s dad’s oldest friend, who was not too pleased with the father of the bride. It went of four hours. We all shared a wonderful few hours together. I think the most amusing on going conversation was the one attempting to explain how and it what ways we are all related and connected. My sister topped it off with a diagram she drew for her partner in a vain attempt to explain it all. It was futile but brought a great deal of joy and laughter in the end.

The weekend felt like one of joy and healing. Yes, there were tears and I know for many folk there is more healing needed. I felt in myself it was a rite of passage that proved to me that I have healed from some of my own pain. There are memories that will stay with me all my life. It proved to me once more that there is always a time to laugh and a time to cry.

Earlier we shared those timeless words from Ecclesiastes 3:

“For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven.” And the seasons turn and pass and come again. There is “A time to weep and a time to laugh”. Over the last few years these words have taken on a whole new and deeper meaning. I suspect post Covid I wept more than I have ever done and by the same token I suspect I laughed more than I have ever done. I know for a fact I felt more than I ever done. I have never been more alive. I have lived with an un-defended heart and have seen the truth that this truly is the only way to live. I have felt every breath, I have not turned away. I have never felt the presence of God more deeply. This beautiful sense of calm, that still small voice in the core of my being, that love that passeth all understanding. I felt this powerfully last weekend and these last few days since. There have been tears, there has been joy and there has been laughter too.

Now I’ve not always been the kind of man who was easily moved to tears. I was as a boy, but not always as a man. There have been seasons of my life where there were few if any tears, those times when nothing touched me. I can hardly remember those seasons sadly, sometimes trying to remember those soulless days can bring tears to my eyes today.

The seasons of my life that I remember by heart and not merely head are the ones in which I have shed tears. Whether they were tears of joy; tears of sorrow; tears of awe; tears of pain; tears of frustration; tears of relief; tears of laughter. These are the thick seasons when the most profound experiences of life have occurred and deeper understanding has usually followed. During these moments I have learnt what it means to be alive. These moments have shaped my soul and built my character.

I wonder what this coming season will bring? For seasons come and seasons go, just like the cherry blossom that has half fallen now.

There is a time to live, even when we feel heartbroken, when we cry. The best funerals are often filled with joy and laughter as we remember our times with our lost loved ones. Those precious memories. I have noticed also that when I am with family we often share memories that bring laughter, even deeply painful and confusing ones. I think it is something about surviving and or being with those who you love and care about so much. You see just like sadness and tears laughter is a communal experience; just as we bind together in our tears and suffering we are also bound together in our joy and laughter. When people laugh together there is nothing more beautiful, it can be infectious too.

Now I’m not talking about the kind of laughter and humour that is simply mocking, especially of those weaker in society, I’m not sure this is humour at all. It certainly isn’t inspired by joyousness, more cynicism, which no one is immune from,

Spiritual freedom brings with it the ability to laugh and not to take yourself too seriously, but it’s not about picking at other people’s perceived faults and inadequacies. This does not bring people together it just aids a sense of superiority at the expense of another. There is nothing liberating or freeing in this.

Now religion and spirituality are not often arenas where humour is obviously found and yet I have come to know that the more spiritually liberated I have become, and the more religious in its truest sense I have become, the more I have discovered my own funny bones. When I saw life as a tragedy I never felt more alone and yet when I began to see life more as kind of divine comedy with tragic elements I began to feel a part of life once more.

The ancient Greeks understood this. From their religious rituals grew two forms of theatre. One was tragedy and the other was comedy, the rituals of Dionysius incorporated both elements. The tragedies motto was “woe is me”, they portrayed situations in which the people, due to their natures, were fated to focus on their own suffering. Whereas the comedies motto was “Get over yourself”, they too expressed situations that included suffering but in these tales the people were enabled to discover ways out of these situations.

Comedy is there in the Abrahamic faiths too. There is a rich tradition of humour in Judaism, but humour is also a part of both Christian and Islamic traditions. Mulla Nasruddhin is the archetype of the holy fool. The early Christian Desert Father’s found humour within their spirituality. “In Stories of the Spirit” Jack Kornfield recounts a saying of Abba Or, who said “Either flee from people, or laugh at the world and the people in it, and make a fool of yourself in many things.” Humour is also found in the traditions of the East too, certainly in many of the Buddhist tales. It saddens me that in the modern age so much of this seems to have got lost as the poe faced and more puritanical factions have become the dominant elements in religion. And yet as Karl Barth has claimed “laughter is the closest thing to the grace of God.”

“Laughter is the closest thing to the grace of God.”

Why is this you might well ask? Well because laughter brings us together, it takes us beyond the confines of our narrow selves. It takes us beyond the confines of our own thinking minds, it helps not to take ourselves too seriously and opens our hearts beyond the confines of our own egos, there is a reason that it is said to be the best medicine. Life is far too serious a business to be taken too seriously. As J.B. Priestly claimed “There is in happiness an element of self-forgetfulness. You lose yourself in something outside yourself when you are happy; just as when you are desperately miserable you are intensely conscious of yourself, you are a solid little lump of ego weighing a ton.”

There is a place for silliness, especially in the most difficult of times. The journey home last weekend was one of the most joyful few hours I have ever spent as my friend and I entertained one another. We shared ridiculous stories from our own lives, including some painful and tragic ones. She is approaching the first anniversary of the tragic death of her brother. We shared many moments of joy together, but also deep pain too.

I cannot repeat some of the things we talked about, I will leave that to your imaginations. I also attempted to explain to her how my family members are related to one another. It was a futile effort, but it filled us both with joy and laughter. A beautiful few hours of loving connection and memories that will stay with me for ever. We made laughter memories with each other. The laughter bound us together.

It brought to mind some rather lovely words by the Bendictine nun and author Joan Chittister.

“Humor gives a people dignity in situations that denigrate them. Laughter gives us relief from the burden of dailiness. No amount of coercion can break an unbreakable spirit, humor teaches us.. . . Humor cuts oppressors down to size, takes their sting away, renders them powerless to destroy us. Don't give in to what diminishes you. Learn to laugh at it and reduce its power over you.”

This reminded me of some words by the great pre-war theologian Harry Emerson Fosdick, he wrote “Happiness at its deepest and best is not the portion of a cushioned life which never struggled,...bore hardships, or adventured in sacrifice for costly aims. A heart of joy is never found in luxuriously coddled lives, but in men and women who achieve and dare, who have tried their powers against antagonisms, who have met even sickness and bereavement and have tempered their souls in fire…”

An undefended heart is one that both gives and receives laughter. The journey home together, proved this once more to me. Laughter memories that will stay with me forever. We both felt the Love Divine within us.

As John O’Donohue claimed "I think that laughter is one of the really vital dimensions of the divine presence that has been totally neglected.

I often feel when the Divine One beholds us obsessed in our intricate maze of anxiety and planning and intentionality, that She can’t stop laughing.

It’s great for people, actually, to laugh, too. I love a sense of humour in a person. It’s one of my favorite things, because I think when somebody laughs, they break out of every system that they’re in.

There’s something really subversive in laughter and in the smile on the human face. It’s lovely and infectious to be in the company of someone who can smile deeply.

I think a smile comes from the soul. And I also love its transitive kind of nature—that if you’re in the presence of someone who has a happiness and a laughter about them, it’ll affect you and it’ll call that out in you as well.

Your body relaxes completely when you’re having fun. I think one of the things that religion has often prevented us from doing is having really great fun. To be here, in a way—despite the sadness and difficulty and awkwardness of individual identity—is to be permanently invited to the festival of great laughter."

I think John O’Donohue captures it perfectly

In the face of the difficulties that we all face it is laughter and the sharing of it that helps us to stay open hearted and fully engaged. Laughter can hold us together when all around us can appear to be falling apart and it can also connect us once again when we are tempted to retreat back into ourselves. Laughter is the greatest medicine and maybe it truly is the closest thing to the grace of God.

None of us knows what the coming seasons will bring. There will be tears, but not always of sorrow, there will be joy and laughter too, if we can but stay open hearted and refuse to retreat back into those shells of self-protection. Let’s not be afraid of our tears, for there are tears of laughter too. Let’s enjoy every season for none of us know how many seasons we have left; let’s not forget, in the words of Conrad Hyers "The first and last word belong to God and therefore not to death but life, not to sorrow but joy, not to weeping but laughter. For surely it is God who has the last laugh."

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

Welcome to the House of Belonging

“Roots hold me close, wings set me free”. “Spirit of Life” by Carolyn McDade is a much loved hymn, I certainly love it. I wonder how many times I have sung it out and loud and proud in my life. I love that we sing of roots holding us close before wings that set us free. This makes sense because before you can fly free, express your full humanity, you must first feel that you belong, you need strong roots before you can be set free. This brings to my heart my understanding of our flaming chalice, the symbol of our free religious faith, rooted in belonging, in history, in tradition, but not held back by any of this. It is this sense of belonging though that enables us to fly free, to express our souls, to who knows where. Before we can know freedom, we must first feel secure where we are, that we belong. We can then begin to express who we truly are, without fear of rejection. Belonging must come before freedom. We need roots that will hold us close, love us unconditionally, before we can even attempt to fly free.

I remember when I was a young man I thought that freedom and the attainment of it were the things of the highest value in life; that liberation meant escaping the shackles that hold us back and stop us being all that we were meant to be. That I needed to escape where I had come from, the drudgery of my life. I sang songs about freedom as I left behind all that I saw as unimportant. When I look back now what I see is a man who was a slave to freedom.

Over the last few years I have learnt about belonging; and I have learnt that belonging is really about love; I have learnt something about what love actually is. I am not talking about romance here. No, I am talking about that unseen force that connects all life and that enables us to form deep and meaningful relationships with ourselves, with each other and with all life. I name this God, others may use different words. To me this is the essence of belonging, to live in and through love. To love who you are, the life that you have and the tasks that this life asks you to fulfil.

It is this love that allows me to belong, that enables me to connect with all that exists now, all that has been in the time before now and all that will be in the future. It is love that has become the roots that hold me close so that I can stretch out the wings that will set me free and allow me to glide in the wind. To know love is to know that you belong and it is this that is perhaps the ultimate freedom. Before you can be truly free, to express all that you were born to be, you must first believe that you belong; belong as you are, exactly as you are in this time and place. It is the roots of belonging that give us the freedom to stretch out our wings and fly in the wind, free. This is the highest form of love to me.

A sense of belonging is a deeply precious thing. It is belonging that helps us become who we are meant to be. It is a sense of being rooted and being held and loved by these roots that allows us to spread our wings and fly free; it is a sense of being rooted that enables us to not fear the wind, but to embrace it and to let ourselves go. When you feel that you do not belong you cannot thrive, you shrivel up and perhaps die.

Now of course we do not need to belong in exactly the same way; our roots need not, in fact should not, be identical in order for us to belong. Each root has to find its own way into the soil. To truly belong is to be welcomed exactly as you are warts and all and beauty spots too. Not every tree in the forest is rooted in an identical way, it is the same for folk in community. We do not have to try to be like those here, in order to truly belong, in fact we don’t want you to comply in order to belong here.

I am going to share with a favourite by a favourite. “The House of Belonging” by David Whyte

“The House of Belonging” by David Whyte

I awoke this morning in the gold light turning this way and that thinking for a moment it was one day like any other. But the veil had gone from my darkened heart and I thought it must have been the quiet candlelight that filled my room, it must have been the first easy rhythm with which I breathed myself to sleep, it must have been the prayer I said speaking to the otherness of the night. And I thought this is the good day you could meet your love, this is the black day someone close to you could die. This is the day you realize how easily the thread is broken between this world and the next and I found myself sitting up in the quiet pathway of light, the tawny close grained cedar burning round me like fire and all the angels of this housely heaven ascending through the first roof of light the sun has made. This is the bright home in which I live, this is where I ask my friends to come, this is where I want to love all the things it has taken me so long to learn to love. This is the temple of my adult aloneness and I belong to that aloneness as I belong to my life. There is no house like the house of belonging.

A new life has recently come into my house of belonging, Molly the Havanese puppy. She has had no trouble finding a sense of belonging here. She has easily settled in. Everyone who meets her says how at ease she is with strangers, both human and dog like. She has a comfortable sense of herself. She feels a part of the community around the chapel and in the town too. Now fortunately she has had no bad experiences as of yet, thank God. She has never been hurt or rejected. I suspect that this isn’t the case with anyone else either within the chapel community or the wider community. I suspect that she thinks that the buildings and gardens are all a part of her house of belonging and all the people here a part of her family. Whenever we leave the house she goes looking for her family, she is so excited about who she will meet, particularly the familiar. She knows that she belongs here and thus feels free to express herself, if only it was so easy for we folk. It is not so easy for we to be ourselves, unlike Molly who is totally at ease were herself. I have never known a dog so in love with their own reflection. She stops at shop windows to admire herself and when she approaches my bedroom mirror she happily touches her nose against her own reflection, as she would when meeting another dog in the street. Molly is happily herself.

To belong you need to be yourself, while paradoxically in order to be yourself you must first of all feel that you belong. When you feel that you belong you will no longer feel the need to fit into, because you will be at ease with yourself.

Brene Brown has said

“Because true belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world, our sense of belonging can never be greater than our level of self-acceptance.”

I like Brene Brown, I particularly like what she has to say about the difference between “Belonging” and “Fitting in” that they are not the same thing although they are often mistaken for one another.

Brene Brown explains that “Fitting in” is really about assessing situations and becoming the person that you believe you need to be in order to be accepted and acceptable. Whereas “Belonging” does not require us to change who we are, but to be who we really are.

Belonging is an innate desire to be a part of something larger than ourselves. This is a primal yearning, deep within the soul of us and thus we often try to acquire it by fitting in and seeking approval from others. Now not only does this not satisfy this yearning it actually becomes a barrier to it. In so doing we lose our identity and feel even more lost and lonely. True belonging you see only happens when we present our true, authentic, imperfect selves to the world, “warts and all” and beauty spots too. Unless we are at home within ourselves we will never feel that we belong anywhere. This is why Molly is such a good teacher to me, she feels that she belongs as she is, exactly as she is.

John O’Donohue’s in his wonderful book “Anam Cara”, relates belonging to longing and yearning. He suggests that we need to find a balance in belonging and that often our problems stem from not being truly at home with ourselves; that we should be our own longing; that the key is to be-long within ourselves. If we belong within ourselves then we will feel at ease and belong wherever we are. Therefore the sense of who we are, our identity will not be ruled by the need to fit in, to belong, externally.

The problem of trying to fit in and not belonging stems from a sense of being different, something I know I’ve experienced at times. This can be a real barrier. Now of course sometimes these barriers are put up by those who would exclude certain types of people for being different. We have seen horrific examples of this throughout human history. People exclude for racial, political, religious, gender and sexual identity. There still are barriers that exist, although thankfully many have come down.

That said it can still be difficult to join a group where you feel that you are different from the others.

Most people find it difficult to join something, to belong to something when they feel different to those already present. It’s the same with any group or community, including church and chapel communities. It is hard to walk into anything you have never been to before. I know it took me some time to pluck up the courage and explore religions community all those years ago

We say here that all are welcome, to come as you are regardless of who you are, where ever you have been and where ever you are going. You are welcome as you are exactly as you are in this moment. That said people are still reluctant to walk through the door and when they do they often find it hard to belong here, even amongst us. The reasons for this are many and varied and how we resolve it is not easy either. I think that the key is to be as open and welcoming as we can be. They key is to cultivate a true sense of belonging, which begins within ourselves. For if we belong we will not need to try to fit in and hopefully the stranger will more easily feel like the neighbour. As Philip L Bermoan wrote in “The Journey Home”

“Truly spiritual people are in the habit of cultivating the nearly forgotten art of basic hospitality, perhaps because they realize that when we are able to make others feel comfortable, the pleasures of belonging are close at hand.”

They key is to cultivate the pleasure of belonging.

The key is to bless one another with our presence and they will feel that they belong amongst we people who belong here as they are exactly as they are in this moment. For as Rachel Naomi Remen wrote in "My Grandfather's Blessings"

"A blessing is not something that one person gives another. A blessing is a moment of meeting, a certain kind of relationship in which both people involved remember and acknowledge their true nature and worth, and strengthen what is whole in one another. By making a place for wholeness within our relationships, we offer others the opportunity to be whole without shame and become a place of refuge from everything in them that are not genuine. We enable people to remember who they are."

A sense of belonging is a deeply precious thing. It is belonging that helps us become who we are meant to be; it is sense of belonging that give us deep roots that will enable us to fly free; It is a sense of belonging that enables us to be ourselves, in whatever company we find ourselves without feeling the need to fit in; it is a sense of belonging that allows us to become good neighbours and to bless the whole world with our welcome.

Here I hope you find a place where you belong. Here I hope you find a house of belonging.

I’m going to end with a blessing by John O’Donohue “For Belonging”

“For Belonging” by John O'Donohue

May you listen to your longing to be free.

May the frames of your belonging be generous enough
for your dreams.

May you arise each day with a voice of blessing
whispering in your heart.

May you find a harmony between your soul and

your life.

May the sanctuary of your soul never become haunted.

May you know the eternal longing that lives at the heart of time.

May there be kindness in your gaze when you look within.

May you never place walls between the light and yourself.

May you allow the wild beauty of the invisible world

to gather you, mind you, and embrace you in

belonging.

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

All we need is here

As I was leaving for home late on Monday night a friend messaged me the following “Harvest Moon Tonight”. So I thought I would look out for it. There it was illuminating the night sky. I messaged another friend, who is a bit of a lunar enthusiast, to ask if she had seen it, she hadn’t. She was a bit caught up in a few personal troubles. I enjoyed the moon as I drove home, it gave me a sense of reassurance, as well as connection to others who noticed and did not notice it too. I felt blessed by the light of the harvest moon.

I have been reflecting on friends and friendships these last few weeks. As most folks know I’ve just celebrated a big birthday. I have received so many wonderful messages and shared memories with friends I have known over the years. It has been a rich harvest indeed this year, one of memory and friendship. It means so much.

So often in life we do not see what we have. It is so easy to just wander on not offering thanks and praise for the simple things we have. Sometimes we only really recognise it when perhaps what we have is under threat or our eyes are opened by the struggles of another. So often it is easy to turn away to avert our eyes to the suffering of others; to get lost in the things that we think that we lack, when truth be told if we took stock we would noticed a bounteous harvest both within us and all around us. A harvest not only for ourselves, but one to share.

This failing to notice what we have brings to mind a story I once heard. It came to mind as I passed several homeless people in the town of Altrincham. Homelessness is a growing problem in this our time and space.

A blind boy sat on the steps of a building with a hat by his feet. He held up a sign which said : ' I am blind, please help.' There were only a few coins in the hat.

A man was walking by. He took a few coins from his pocket and dropped them into the hat. He then took the sign, turned it around, and wrote some words. He put the sign back so that everyone who walked by would see the new words.

Soon the hat began to fill up. A lot more people were giving money to the blind boy. That afternoon the man who had changed the sign came to see how things were. The boy recognized his footsteps and asked, "Were you the one who changed my sign this morning? What did you write? "

The man said, " I only wrote the truth. I said what you said but in a different way."

I wrote : ' Today is a beautiful day but I cannot see it.'

Both signs told people that the boy was blind. But the first sign simply said the boy was blind. The second sign told people that they were so lucky that they were not blind. It is no surprise that the second sign was more effective.

We do not always notice what we have. The blessings we have been given, until we see that another no long possesses the gift that is ours. We should offer thanks for the things we have and use them in creative and positive ways for the good of all. A good and useful life is one in which we count our blessings, one in which we enjoy our days with a heart of gratitude. Gratitude though is not merely saying thank you, although it does begin there, it is offering something with what we have been given, not just for ourselves but for others too.

One of the great sadnesses of life is that we don’t always see what is within us. We do not recognise and harvest our gifts, and share them with others. Too many people believe that they have so little to offer. Too often we look to others to fulfil our needs, failing to recognise what is within us. For what we need is here already within us. “What we need is here” as Wendell berry so beautiful observed in his poem “The Wild Geese”, which I offer to you

“The Wild Geese” By Wendell Berry

Horseback on Sunday morning,
harvest over, we taste persimmon
and wild grape, sharp sweet
of summer’s end. In time’s maze
over fall fields, we name names
that went west from here, names
that rest on graves. We open
a persimmon seed to find the tree
that stands in promise,
pale, in the seed’s marrow.
Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear,
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye
clear. What we need is here.

What we need is here. Within each of us, within life, within community. Wendell Berry is so right. Too often we think what we need is over there, in some distant place, some other place, some Heaven, some Nirvana, some Ithaka, some Promised land of milk and honey. Too often we fail to see what is within us, that what we need is here.

What we need is here; what we need to do is learn to trust and draw upon the abundance within us and between us. Is there really not enough? Is there a scarcity crisis? Or is that we are just failing to use what is already here and to share it properly. What we need is here. We need to learn how to tap into the endless resources within ourselves and humanity as a whole, there is an abundance in life and within each of us. The problem is that we waste it or fail to truly recognise what is here.

It begins within ourselves. We need to recognise what is within us, to reap the harvest and to share it where it is needed, thus encouraging others to do the same. Now whether the problem is material, social, emotional, mental or spiritual. The solution is here, “what we need is here”. The key is to reap the harvest and to keep on sowing and encouraging others to do likewise.

Too often we fail to recognise what is within us. We act and believe that there is something fundamentally wrong with us, that we have nothing to offer. Gosh what the world needs is people who are awake to what is within them and who are willing to share in their abundance. All that we need is within us. Not just us alone though, but within our relationships, our friendships, our communities, this our shared world. The tricky part is finding a way to harvest this. As Wendell Berry so beautifully put it, we do not need to wait for a “new earth or heaven” in order to live by the truth that what we need is here. All we need is “to be quiet in heart, and in eye, clear.” Then we will see and gain access to the resources within and between us, and we will reap the abundant harvest both for ourselves, our communities and human society. We can share in the amazing abundance of self and community.

The last eighteen months have been difficult for everyone. It has been a time of great loss. There has been the deep loss of people, the painful grief that comes when we lose someone we love, many of us have experienced this awful pain. There has also been the loss of the quality of our lives and security also. Hard times.

It has not all been about loss. I have seen and experienced other deeper connections in recent weeks, particularly the richness of the people in my life. I have also reexperienced so much else from my life. I have in recent days begun to reap harvest from the past. Some of which has come from seeds sown long ago. Maybe this is what Autumn is truly about, this season that we have just entered.

John O’Donohue compared autumn to old age. He suggested that, “the autumn of our lives,” is the time when we harvest the lessons from our lives. It is a time to gather all the moments of our lives, even the ones that have been seemingly lost or even discarded as unpleasant and “holding them as one.” O’Donohue also suggested that the autumn of our lives is the time to harvest our souls wholly so as to reach a deeper understanding. He did not see the soul as being some kind of invisible organ within us more as a presence enfolding our bodies. He suggested that life’s autumn is a time to explore our souls, so as to develop new strength, poise and confidence and therefore enter a ‘quiet delight’ as we harvest our own lives.

O’Donohue was not suggesting that these new understandings just come instantly at this time, without effort. Labour is required just as labour is required to bring in the crops at harvest time. Nor are they merely yielded from the present time, they are built on years of experiences of the ploughing and planting of life. They are the crops of success and failure of year after year and the lessons learnt.

This though does not have to only occur at the end of our lives, it can happen at any time. If we are willing to reap the harvest of what is already within us; if we are willing to recognise that “what we need is here”. We just need to reap the inner harvest of our lives and to share it with one another. How do we do this? Well by giving our time and attention. This is the greatest gift you can give another. John O’Donohue said that this is the final understanding that comes from the soul’s harvest. This understanding that the rhythm of the seasons, the rhythm of time itself, is part of the wisdom that we learn. We need to learn to become a part of that and then respond to the need that is here. Like the man who helped the blind boy.

“All we need is here” we just need to find a way to harvest it and learn to share it with one another. How do we do this? Well by simply giving each other our time, by blessing each other with our holy presence.

This harvest I am offering thanks and praise for the life of my friends the people I have known the rich harvests they have shared with me. I offer thanks and praise for all the lives I have known and all that they have given to me and countless others, the wisdom that they shared. I offer thanks and praise for all that has been so freely given and I hope I can make the most of it and pass it on to those who follow.

“All we need is here” we just need to find a way to harvest it and learn to share it with one another.

Harvest is a time to offer thanks for all that has been given us. To do so we need to see what has been given to us. It is so easy to see what we do not have and therefore fail to see the gifts that we are surrounded by, gifts that are there for all of us to share in, gifts that are so freely given. “All we need is here” we just need to find a way to harvest it and learn to share it with one another

“All we need is here” Let us offer thanks and praise for what is here. Let us reap the abundant harvest and share the gifts we have been given. In so doing we will bless life with our holy presence and it will bless us in return.

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

 

To Offer Solace: To Receive Comfort

I wasn’t feeling my best last Monday morning, my mood was low. I was wondering what people would think of me, having learnt of the news of Sue and mine’s separation. I had spent a good week off, with friends and family. Trying to come to terms with things and myself. My own disappointments, mainly with myself and my failings. I was also feeling a sense of disgust and despair at the world in general. I think the reports of the trouble at the football game the night before and the vile racist abuse directed towards the young men who had missed the penalties was weighing heavily on my heart. Sue and myself messaged one another. She had been taking care of her spiritual needs that morning. She suggested that I needed to buy myself some flowers or a plant. I replied that I needed to seek solace today and that it sounded like a good idea.

I set off into Altrincham, to the supermarket and then the gym. I passed two friends I often see sitting outside Café Nero. One of them owns a beautiful chocolate Labrador. She is an old girl, but a lovely one, the dog I mean. As I passed, I didn’t see the dog and I had this horrible feeling in my stomach. There were other people talking to them, one with a dog, but as I passed, I couldn’t see the Labrador. Thankfully when I returned a little later, there she was. It is funny though that I didn’t see her the first time, it said something about the state of my mind and heart.

I went through my routine at the gym. It was quiet for a Monday morning. No doubt folk were nursing headaches from the night before. I got through my routine, but barely spoke to anyone. As I left my head was still down. Oddly this actually helped me on Monday, which is a rare thing indeed. I noticed something I wouldn’t normally see. It was sign right there written into the paving stone outside what used to be Rackhams. It read “Not So Secret Garden: A garden is a delight to the eye and a solace for the soul”. With arrows pointing upwards towards a recently created artificial garden, café and large area of outside seating and play area right in the middle of Altrincham high street. It lifted my head up and my spirits too. I then began to notice all kinds of beautiful and wonderful things that brought solace to my heart and soul. It helped me reconnect and I returned to begin my work, there was much to do after a week off.

Solace was on my mind and how important it is to discover in times of trouble and struggle. We all need help at times, both visible and invisible. I had a day filled with lovely encounters and conversations. Some beautiful messages either direct or passed on to me by members of the congregations. I cannot begin to tell you how it feels to be loved so deeply. So many offering support to both myself and Sue. It touched me deeply.

We all need solace, we all need comfort and consolation in times of distress. It is wonderful to be able to receive both visible and invisible help at such times. I had spent quite a bit of last week with family and friends. It was helpful. I also spent some time offering solace to an old friend from university days who sadly is suffering with severe mental health troubles. He is currently staying in a hospital in the North West, although he lives in London. Despite the fact that he is struggling there was a strange joy in being together, catching up after all this time and rekindling an old bond and friendship. We shared many memories together, many joys and many pains.

Last week spending time with him and others brought a soothing, a comfort to my heart and soul. It is something in the deep bonding and reconnecting. That said it was painful too, seeing an old friend suffering so. Solace isn’t just about comforting as we understand it today, as a “there, there”, in its original meaning there is a sense of pleasure and joy too. As there was in the conversation with my friend, there was laughter too. Solace is about reconnecting with life once again, something I was beginning to feel all through Monday, so many gifts of reconnection came my way.

As David Whyte so beautifully put in his essay on the word “Solace”

“Solace is not an evasion, nor a cure for our suffering, nor a made up state of mind. Solace is a direct seeing and participation; a celebration of the beautiful coming and going, appearance and disappearance of which we have always been a part. Solace is not meant to be an answer, but an invitation, through the door of pain and difficulty, the depth of suffering and simultaneous beauty in the world that the strategic mind by itself cannot grasp nor make sense of.”

Now some have wrongly suggested that the words “solar” and “Solace” are etymologically related, they are not. Solar comes from Solaris, meaning of the sun, from “sol” where as “solace has a completely different root, meaning comfort and consolation.

That said I know just getting up early and watching another sunrise is a beautiful source a comfort to so many, a true solace. On Monday morning a beautiful facebook memory came up, a reflection by Parker J Palmer, on another sunrise, which includes the beautiful poem “The Sun” by Mary Oliver. Mary’s work is another solace to me. Parker wrote of the poem and the sunset:

“Your few minutes with the sun this morning will mean nothing if you spend the rest of the day turning away from the world’s wonders to obsess over your ego-needs.

Do your work, yes. But remember that you're sustained by visible and invisible powers too vast and mysterious to understand. As the day goes on, look out, look up, and simply say, “Thanks."”

I spent Monday being offered this opportunity and taking it. Here is Mary’s poem:

“The Sun” by Mary Oliver

Have you ever seen
Anything
in your life
more wonderful

than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon

and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea,
and is gone--
and how it slides again

out of the blackness,
every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower

streaming upward on its heavenly oils,
say, on a morning in early summer,
at its perfect imperial distance--
and have you ever felt for anything
such wild love--
do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure

that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you

as you stand there,
empty-handed--
or have you too
turned from this world--

or have you too
gone crazy
for power,

Where do we seek solace, when life is difficult? I was thinking of the young footballers who had missed the penalties last Sunday night. They were consoled by their teammates and of course their manager who himself had suffered the very same fate in 1996.

Gareth Southgate was asked what he had said to one the players, the 19 year old Saka to bring him comfort. He said “that it is my responsibility”, not the players. It is rare to see a leader truly take responsibility in our current age. Gareth is a wonderful example of leadership. That said it wasn't he who suffered the abuse, it was the players.

No doubt they will be fine, they will be supported by their colleagues and clubs and decent supporters. There are many others in life who are not as fortunate as these wealthy and generally much loved young men. People who have little or no support, where do they turn for comfort, for solace? There is much suffering around us, whether on a material, mental health and or spiritual level. I was out with friends on Saturday night and noticed some destitute folk stopping cars in the middle of the road in Rusholm, begging for money. We have a growing homelessness problem in this country and a mental health epidemic that will hit us hard in the next months, particularly amongst the young. Where and how do we offer solace? Where and how do we offer comfort to those in and around us?

To quote Isiah 40 v 1 “Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God.”

Comfort is another of those interesting words that does not mean exactly what we thought it meant. I had a conversation with Hugh, from Urmston about this recently following a Sunday service. He highlighted the origins of the word “comfort”. As we understand it today to offer comfort is to soothe, to offer solace. This though is not what it originally meant.

Comfort comes from the Latin word comfortare, which means “strengthen greatly.” To give comfort is to shore up the mood or physical state of someone else. It may take quite some time to shore up someone when they are lost, in a state or despair, or deep depression. It takes more than just going for a walk, taking flowers, encouraging them to find a love and connection through nature. Yes, these help, of course they do, but you cannot just lift a deep state of depression this way. The support maybe needed for quite some time. To strengthen someone greatly takes some time and effort and above all consistency.

Parker J Palmer has spoken a great deal about the various periods of depression that he has suffered throughout his life. Here is an extract from a podcast shared by “On Being” where he described the responses of friends to a particularly severe bout.

“I had folks coming to me, of course, who wanted to be helpful; and sadly, many of them weren’t. These were the people who would say, “Gosh, Parker, why are you sitting in here being depressed? It’s a beautiful day outside. Go feel the sunshine and smell the flowers.” And that, of course, leaves a depressed person even more depressed, because while you know, intellectually, that it’s sunny out and that the flowers are lovely and fragrant, you can’t really feel any of that in your body, which is dead in a sensory way. And so you’re left more depressed by this “good advice” to get out and enjoy the day…”

…He continued…

“There was this one friend who came to me, after asking permission to do so, every afternoon about 4:00, sat me down in a chair in the living room, took off my shoes and socks, and massaged my feet. He hardly ever said anything — he was a Quaker elder — and yet, out of his intuitive sense, from time to time would say a very brief word, like: “I can feel your struggle today,” or, farther down the road, “I feel that you’re a little stronger at this moment, and I’m glad for that.” But beyond that, he would say hardly anything. He would give no advice. He would simply report, from time to time, what he was intuiting about my condition. Somehow, he found the one place in my body, namely, the soles of my feet, where I could experience some sort of connection to another human being. And the act of massaging just — in a way that I really don’t have words for — kept me connected with the human race.”

It is pretty clear who were the people that helped Parker through this dark time in his life. The ones who offered him solace, who gave him true comfort. Of course, this last eighteen months it has become even harder to offer such comfort due to the conditions we have had to live through in order to try and contain the virus. How though do we offer comfort to one another as we move on through life? Well, we have to become ever more creative.

We have been haven’t we and we continue to do so. Why because we are resilient, and love wins out. There are gifts, there is solace, there is comfort all around us. We can offer it to one another or at least remind one another where to find it. I got my flowers as suggested, although they were not bought from a supermarket or picked from a garden. They were sent to me by an old dear friend who sent a clip of himself playing “Sunflowers” by Paul Weller. Just what the doctor ordered. They brought solace, they brought comfort, just when I needed them most. Thank God my senses were alive enough to receive them.

I’m going to end with these words of blessing by John O’Donohue “For Suffering”

May you be blessed in the holy names of those
Who, without you knowing it,
Help to carry and lighten your pain.

May you know serenity
When you are called
To enter the house of suffering.

May a window of light always surprise you.

May you be granted the wisdom
To avoid false resistance;
When suffering knocks on the door of your life,
May you glimpse its eventual gifts.

May you be able to receive the fruits of suffering.

May memory bless and protect you
With the hard-earned light of past travail;
To remind you that you have survived before
And though the darkness now is deep,
You will soon see the approaching light.

May the grace of time heal your wounds.

May you know that though the storm might rage,
Not a hair of your head will be harmed.

by John O’Donohue

Please click here to watch a video recording of the materila found in this blog

Easter Morning: Respair Awakening to a Fresh New Hope

We have passed through more than a year since the beginning of this pandemic. A year in which so many lives have been lost; we have lost people close to us, family and friends and folk from both communities. We have also lost much in the way of our experiences of life. A year staying in and staying home, of not mixing, of not celebrating, of not being together. It has felt like a long year and more now actually. It is not over just yet, but there is a little more light. There is a little more life, coming to birth once again.

Today is Easter, but it is not a time of absolute halleluiah, not just yet. There is much to do, to rebuild, to heal, to mend. There is much to give birth to within our hearts and lives and those of whom we share this spinning planet with.

That said just because we cannot live as we would like it does not mean that we cannot enjoy the Love that is to born again in the emptiness of tomb. Winter is over, Spring is here, life is returning and there is love in our hearts. From the dark caves of despair, hope is being born again. Let us give birth to this hope, but let it be a new hope, a fresh hope, may the despair become respair. May a new Hope be born this day in the dark caves of our lives. Today is Easter, let us give birth to the love born in the caves of our own hearts. A day of fresh hope, a day of respair.

I saw a wonderful example of “respair” while I was working on this sermon in the chapel the other day. I had just been out for a walk, it was beautiful to feel the sun on my back, to experience to appreciate, that beautiful feeling of the warmth of the sun on my back, it has been too long since I felt this. By the way did you know that there is a word for this feeling, or there use to be in the 17^th century. The word is ‘apricate’: to revel in the warmth of the sun on your back. “Apricate”, like “Respair” has gone out of usage, we should give birth to them once more.  Sorry I digress. Back to that example of respair. It came as I crossed the threshold of the chapel, there at my feet was an enormous bee. It was struggling along the ground, didn’t look in the best of shape, but wanted life so much. I knelt down beside it, it brought Galilee to my mind and those words “Interpreted as Love, interpreted as love.” It was the first bee I had seen this year. It seemed to me to be another sign of “Respair” of a new fresh hope. I left the door open for it and filmed it as it crawled toward the door. As it moved back towards light and life and into the unknown of who knows what. It didn’t fly off immediately, it seemed to crawl up the door frame and I watched for a little while longer. Then the phone rang and I was distracted for a while and by the time I looked again, it was gone.

I then returned to my desk and wrote this sermon with these wonderful feelings of “Respair” and “Apricate”, singing in my soul. With this sense of new life and new beginnings, singing in my soul. Isn’t that what Easter is about “Respair”, a new Hope, a Fresh Hope, sunshine returning once again, the Sun rising once again. It certainly felt like that in that moment. It inspired me to write these thoughts. It brought Easter alive in my heart, it opened the cave of my soul. It brought my understanding of Easter to life.

I wonder what Easter means to you.

There are many layers to the “Easter Mythos”, that if we allow it to can touch all of us, that can bring respair, a fresh, a new hope. In order to be touched by the magic of Easter you do not have to believe in the actual bodily resurrection of Jesus, you can believe in Easter without having to accept that this actually happened. Perhaps if all we focus on is this, then we will miss some of Easter’s power. What is clear to me is that Easter is about the Power of Love that grew from that empty tomb. It brought a new fresh hope, it brought respair, two thousand years ago in a time of utter despair, that those who followed him must have felt. Whatever we may think about bodily resurrection, something definitely lived on beyond the physical death of Jesus. While his body may no longer have remained in the empty tomb, some beautiful aspect of his life certainly remained. Love was born again, even after the body was killed.

I believe it is the same with every life and the love that life leave behinds, something beautiful always remain.

This brings to mind those beautiful words often shared at funerals by that famous author “Unknown”

“Something Beautiful Remains” – Unknown

The tide recedes but leaves behind
bright seashells on the sand.
The sun goes down, but gentle
warmth still lingers on the land.
The music stops, and yet it echoes
on in sweet refrains.....
For every joy that passes,
something beautiful remains.

Every life leaves its mark. Every life impacts in some way. We should never think that we are insignificant, that we do not matter. We impact on everyone and everything around us. Everything that we do and everything that do not do matters. There are those who I have known and who have loved me, who have been gone many years, who are still impacting on my life. Of their lives, something beautiful remains.

Easter is a reminder to me that even after death something beautiful remains. It is an acknowledgement of life’s sacredness. It is a reaffirmation of life that not even death can end.

All around us life is being reborn. I see this clearly each morning as I take my daily exercise. The spring flowers are everywhere, the birds are singing more sweetly. As I pass people, I offer a smile of love and nod of connection. It fills my heart to overflowing with a love for life itself and helps me connect to my true inner being, to all life and to that Greater reality that gives birth to and connects all life, whether I can feel the warmth of the sun on my back or not, you do need to “apricate” in order to appreciate. It is amazing how love and light finds a way through, even in these dark difficult times.

You can find the essence and spirit of Easter in your own heart, we can incarnate that love through our lives. This love can seemingly die in the winters of our lives and come to life once again in our spring times, regardless of the time of year. It is we who can bring this love alive once again. In so doing we will ensure that something beautiful will remain from our simple, humble lives.

Easter begins with the death and loss of the life of Jesus, with the seeming end of his life’s promise. As every single death means just the same. It begins with the despair of the empty tomb. This though is not where it ends, something else happened, something grew from this emptiness, this hopelessness, this despair. Something beautiful remained. Something new was born again. This despair was transformed into a new Hope.

This very same possibility of transformation and renewal exists for all of us. New hope can be born even in despair. Hope is born from despair. They share the same root. In French Desepair and J’espair share the same linguisitic root, it is the same with life. Yes we can know utter despair, but this despair can be transformed into a new Hope, “Respair”, a new hope, a fresh hope.

Even after death, something beautiful remains. If we live lives of love and beauty. If we become all that we were born to be if we bring to life from the empty tombs of our own lives the love that is at the heart of the Easter Mythos. A love that is eternal, a love that never dies, a love that I believe is our task to bring alive.

This is the Love that is born again on Easter morning. This is what grows from the emptiness of the tomb when the stone is rolled away…From nothing to everything…From Despair, Hope is born again…Respair a new hope, a fresh hope is born again in our own hearts.

 

Now I would like to end with these words of blessing by David Whyte.

 

“Easter Blessing”

The blessing of the morning light to you,
may it find you even in your invisible
appearances, may you be seen to have risen 
from some other place you know and have known 
in the darkness and that that carries all you need.
May you see what is hidden in you 
as a place of hospitality and shadowed shelter,
may that hidden darkness be your gift to give, 
may you hold that shadow to the light
and the silence of that shelter to the word of the light, 
may you join all of your previous disappearances 
with this new appearance, this new morning, 
this being seen again, new now, and newly alive.

David Whyte: Easter Morning 2015
In Memoriam John O’Donohue

Here's a video recording based on the material in this "blogspot"