“If the Earth were only a few feet in diameter.” By Joe Miller

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­If the Earth were only a few feet in diameter, floating a few feet above a field somewhere, people would come from everywhere to marvel at it. People would walk around it marvelling at its big pools of water, its little pools and the water flowing between. People would marvel at the bumps on it and the holes in it. They would marvel at the very thin layer of gas surrounding it and the water suspended in the gas. The people would marvel at all the creatures walking around the surface of the ball and at the creatures in the water. The people would declare it as sacred, because it was the only one, and they would protect it so that it would not be hurt. The ball would be the greatest wonder known, and people would come to pray to it, to be healed, to gain knowledge, to know beauty and to wonder how it could be. People would love it and defend it with their lives because they would somehow know that their lives could be nothing without it.

If the Earth were only a few feet in diameter.

Eureka! I’ve got it! I’ve discovered the key to it all! Hard to believe I know. I heard it several times this week. I have the answer to it all. Do you know what it is? Can you guess?

The answer is “Humidity”

Yes, I know it doesn’t sound right, but it came from two of the oracles I know.

One is my friend Robbie’s son Rew. He is a gifted footballer and has recently signed junior forms for Stoke City. His dad asked him how he felt about this and he said he felt “humid”. A strange response you might think. What he meant was humbled.

I was involved in a wonderful conversation on Monday on the subject of humility. How in so many ways it is the key to living spiritually alive. It keeps us grounded, reminds us of finiteness. A friend shared something deeply humble about a struggle she had experienced a few days early. She showed her humanity in her vulnerability. She expressed a deep faith. She also said that that she too sometimes confused the word humility with humidity. She is a wonderful and funny human being, an example to those of us who think we are oh so clever.

I have enjoyed some fascinating and wonderful conversations with a variety of human beings all week. Funny ones too. It has lifted my heart and my spirits at times. Needed too as I heard of the loss of another old friend from back home. It seems to be every week at the moment. Despite what is sometimes said of us, we are a marvel we human beings.

It is an incredible thing to be human, we are fascinating creatures. Even the word human itself is a fascination, or at least it is to me. The word human is formed from the same root as humility, possibily humanity’s greatest attribute. Did you also know that it is closely related to humus and exhume. It makes sense if you think about it.

The root for all of these words is “hum” which originally referred to the earth or dirt. Our earliest forbears perceived that we humans originated from the soil – you would think that this would keep us grounded, but seemingly not - this is made clear in the second creation story found in Genesis II which reads “And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life” Adam itself is closely related to the word “toadamah” which means soil or earth. There are other ancient creation stories too which associate the origin of humankind with soil or ground. Such as the Sumerian myth of Marduk who created people by killing Qingu and mixing his blood with clay. Or the Greek myths of Decallion and Pyrrha who by throwing rocks over their shoulders created man and woman.

Now while each of us is formed from the same substance we are also all unique. We all have our own unique characteristics. We each of us have our own personalities, our own finger prints, our own DNA. We also have our own faces. No two faces are exactly alike.

Even identical twins can begin to look different over time as life has its impact on us. They are exactly the same and yet they are unique individuals.

I love what Abraham Joshua Heschel said about “A Face”

“A human being has not only a body but also a face. A face cannot be grafted or interchanged. A face is a message, a face speaks, often unbeknown to the person. Is not the human face a living mixture of mystery and meaning? We are all able to see it, and are all unable to describe it. Is it not a strange marvel that among so many hundreds of millions of faces, no two faces are alike? And that no face remains quite the same for more than one instant? The most exposed part of the body, it is the least describable, a synonym for an incarnation of uniqueness. Can we look at a face as if it were a commonplace?”

“Can we look at a face as if it were a commonplace?”

I’ve never been a good liar, never had a poker face. There are advantages and disadvantages to this. My face hides nothing. A person can tell exactly how I am feeling by looking at my face, but then you already know this don’t you. I remember once being asked if I was comedian. I said no to which the man said “Well you have a comedians face.” In fact it has been said again this week. I’m not sure what he meant by this, but I take it as a compliment. I think, apparently I looked like a les Dawson character. I know I have a very descriptive face.

Now going back to etymology and the word human. It has often been incorrectly believed that word humour also shares its root with humanity and humility. Now it would be great if it was, but alas this is not true.

As I’ve pointed out before humour is actually derived from a medieval medical term for fluids of the human body. It is has its roots the ‘old’ French word ‘umere”. Physicians of the day believed that we had four different types of internal fluids that they called ‘humors’ and it was these that determined our physical and mental health. Therefore, if a person became ill it was believed that their “humors” were out of balance. I do so love etymology; language has had such a fascinating journey.

This though doesn’t sound particularly funny though does it?

I do so wish that humour, humility, humus and humanity were etymologically linked. Why? Well because in so many ways one of humanities greatest attributes is our sense of humour. It helps us deal with the pain and suffering that accompany life. It is very difficult to take yourself too seriously when you are laughing at yourself. There was a period in my life when I lost the ability to laugh. It was a sure sign that I had got lost in myself, had begun to reject life. These days I laugh often.

We humans, we creatures formed from the earth, cannot live without humour, just as a plant cannot grow from the soil without the essential ingredient of water.

There a few classic gold moments last Sunday evening when Rob, Robbie and myself went to see New Model Army. Some of which I can’t repeat here. There was even a bit of a “Only Fools and Horses” moment as the three of us ran for the tram. We were laughing at ourselves afterwards. We were in good humour, in good health. Although we are not actually it seems. Not by the state of us after running for the tram.

I’ve been full of songs all week, been great for my soul as I’ve connected with a love. It’s also connected me to old friends, many who are no longer with us.

I’ve been filled with awe at it all, of life itself. Of the generally giftedness of being here at all. It’s been an awful week, in the sense it has been filled with awe. I’ve been thinking of an old New Model Army song “Space” from the album “Purity” It paints a picture of being out lost in the wilds. There are Biblical references in the song, of Moses receiving instructions in the wilderness, the 40 years of being lost in the desert and Jesus’ temptations following his baptism and his 40 days in the desert. At the heart of the song is this image of looking down at the world from a great height, remote and separate but in utter awe. Towards the end of the song is a spoken word segment. They are well known words from the astronaut Thomas Stafford as he looked down at the earth while orbiting from space:

"The white twisted clouds and the endless shades of blue in the ocean
make the hum of the spacecraft systems, the radio chatter, even your
own breathing disappear. There is no cold or wind or smell to tell you
that you are connected to Earth.

You have an almost dispassionate platform - remote, Olympian and yet so moving that you can hardly believe how emotionally attached you are to those rough patterns shifting steadily below."

Thomas Stafford Apollo 10.

I can only imagine what Thomas Stafford must have felt as he orbited the earth. Very few of us will ever experience that sense of total physical disconnection from our home, the earth. Yet from this distance Stafford began to appreciate that from which he came. From space he looked on the earth in awe, not wonder, awe. Although he was physically disconnected, his soul appeared completely connected to what he was gazing upon, it shut out all the noises of his spacecraft and even his own breath. Staring down at the earth, took his breath away. It must have been an incredibly beautiful and yet in some sense frightening experience. To me this is worship, this sense of connection that moves way beyond the confines of the physical. It must have humbled him, reminded him that he was human and just a speck of almost nothingness and yet utterly alive. What an awe filled experience.

We often hear about the need to develop a sense of wonder, in order to give life meaning. I do not believe that this is enough. What is required is a reawakening of our sense of awe. Awe and wonder are not exactly the same, although the words do appear to be used interchangeably. They both possess an element of surprise or even astonishment about them; they both grab our attention and focus completely; they both awaken our senses. Awe though is different to wonder, there is more to it, this is because it possesses an element of fear and reverence. It is perhaps best described as revered wonder with a sense of fear or trepidation blended in. Wonder opens the senses, where as awe brings them to a different level of being. There is a greater power in awe, than in wonder. It is almost overpowering, over whelming.

I remember once talking with a mother who described the birth of her daughter as the most awful experience of her life. I was a little taken aback by the use of the phrase awful, it didn’t seem right. Then she explained! At the first sight of her daughter she was just full of awe, not wonder awe! She was blown away, by this tiny presence right before her eyes, that she loved, revered and worshipped. She described the feeling as over powering and to some extent frightening. It was truly awful, it was full of awe. It humbled her too, it changed her humanity. Her life was transformed in that moment.

Isn’t it strange how awful is understood negatively, where as wonderful has only positive connotations. I suspect that this is because we fear that sense of being out of control that accompanies awe. We do not like to experience powerlessness; we like to believe we are masters of our destiny, masters of the universe. We are not, life is fragile. That’s what makes every moment, every experience, potentially awesome.

The last 18 months have really connected me to this is powerful ways. They have humbled me, they have left me in awe. Thankfully humour has restored me to sanity too. I was out with friends the other day just talking through a few things. They were concerned I was ok I think. When I got back one messaged me “ It read that’s what good friends are for “The don’t tell when you flies are down” Now I thought that they were talking about me as I noticed my were down when I got home. No, they were referring to themselves. We all had a good chuckle at this. The humour connected to our humanity, it was awful.

What an awful experience, that once again humbled me, brought a smile to my face and we connected is good humour. I reckon we are both in decent health.

I’m going to end today with a bit of Kurt Vonneghut. There is humour, there humility and humanity and there is awe too in this little tale. It is from “Cat’s Cradle”. It is a play of those old creation stories, I mentioned earlier:

“God made mud.
God got lonesome.
So God said to some of the mud, "Sit up!"
"See all I've made," said God, "the hills, the sea, the
sky, the stars."
And I was some of the mud that got to sit up and look
around.
Lucky me, lucky mud.
I, mud, sat up and saw what a nice job God had done.
Nice going, God.
Nobody but you could have done it, God! I certainly
couldn't have.
I feel very unimportant compared to You.
The only way I can feel the least bit important is to
think of all the mud that didn't even get to sit up and
look around.
I got so much, and most mud got so little.
Thank you for the honor!
Now mud lies down again and goes to sleep.
What memories for mud to have!
What interesting other kinds of sitting-up mud I met!
I loved everything I saw!
Good night.
I will go to heaven now.
I can hardly wait...
To find out for certain what my wampeter was...
And who was in my karass...
And all the good things our karass did for you.

Amen.”

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

Joy and Suffering: Opposites and Equals”

I recently spent a few days away at Great Hucklow with “Ministry in the Making”. It was a wonderful experience, if somewhat exhausting at times. The title this year was “The Ministry of all believers.” How do we believe in our people? The foundational quote that we kept on referring back to came from the opening of “A Tale of Two Cities” by Charles Dickens:

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us"

It was an inspirational week; it was wonderful to work with such a group of gifted and interesting people. They are a credit to our free religious tradition.

“it was the best of times it was the worst of times”, says it all about the paradoxical nature of life, certainly of my life and certainly of the last 12 months.

Life by its nature is paradoxical, it is full of contradictions. Some of the days of greatest joy also contain some suffering. Actually, a day of celebration for one set of people can be one of utter dismay for others. Life truly is dukkha. Choosing life for me is to embrace this, to live in the middle of the paradox of joys and suffering, of the best of times and the worst of times, this is the nature of life, this is what it means to live spiritually alive. As Barry Lopez has said:

“One must live in the middle of contradiction, because if all contradiction were eliminated at once, life would collapse. There are simply no definitive answers to some of the great pressing questions. You continue to live them out, making your life a worthy expression of leaning into the light.”

To live spiritually alive is of course to lean into the light, or perhaps its more than this it is to let the light shine out of us, to truly become our destiny and become the light of the world.

Joy and suffering go hand in hand. To know joy is to also know suffering, you cannot have one without the other. Being in a place of joy opens your heart and it should make you more aware of the sufferings around you. It can make you very vulnerable too, an open heart is a vulnerable heart and an awakened heart. It’s also worth noting that just because you are filled with joy, it does not mean that others will necessarily share in this.

Does this mean we should inhibit our joy? I do not think so. It does not serve the world and actually only feeds the darkness ever more. It is easy to be cynical to hide the light, this is a betrayal of God given life. I know only too well the dangers of this.

To live fully alive, is to accept life in its entirety, both the joys and sufferings. It is to walk with others in their sufferings, to hold them in their time of need and to let them hold you when you need comfort too. It is not to hide your light. This serves no one, although it might not always be appreciated. How often in human history have we destroyed the lights that have shined the brightest. That said sometimes you can spend too much time basking in that light and that serves no one too. It is about being open, living spiritually alive and sharing that with others. It is about accepting life in its entirety and to love the folk you share life with as they are too, this is to truly love, to follow that greatest of all commands.

As I’m sure you have noticed one of my ministerial mantras is “Choose Life”. I often find myself quoting these well known words of Moses from Exodus; words he uttered during his final sermon just before the people entered the “Promised Land”, without him, after 40 years in the wilderness. By the way forty years simply meant a very long time, a lifetime back then. The words are of course “I lay before you life blessings and curses, therefore choose life”. To me this is what it means to live truly alive, to live spiritually. To live spiritually alive to embrace the whole of life as it truly is. Now my use of the phrase has been questioned, especially the choice of the word “curses”. What is questioned is the idea that life’s troubles are seen as curses. I have to say I kind of agree with the protest as to see life’s troubles as curses is to see them as something that has bestowed upon you, and a kind of punishment and burden that you have to live with. I have tried for years to come up with an alternative to curses that means the troubles and sufferings that we live each day. You can’t pick and choose I know that. To know the joy of life, you also have to know the sufferings, for as the Buddhist say, life is Dukkha.

Life by its nature is paradoxical, it is full of contradictions. Some of the days of greatest joy also contain some suffering. Actually a day of celebration for one set of people can be one of utter dismay for others. Life truly is dukkha. Choosing life for me is to embrace this, to live in the middle of the paradox of joys and suffering, this is the nature of life, this is what it means to live spiritually alive.

To live spiritually alive is of course to lean into the light, or perhaps its more than this it is to let the light shine out of us, to truly become our destiny and become the light of the world.

I spent some time with a old friend early this week. He lives in Accrington, up in deepest darkest Lancashire. We talked and shared many things. He is close to retirement after 45 years of service at one firm. He has a dream to become a kind of one on one tour guide. He certainly knows his local history. He drove me round the beautiful countryside and told me many tales about the local history. We visited the site of the statue of Alice Nutter, one of the Pendle Witches, he showed the Cromwell’s broken bridge and the last surviving Clarion House in England. It was a thoroughly enjoyable drive, educational and interesting as he shared the sites of local history, in all its darkness and light. I reckon it might be something he could be a natural at. We also shared some personal stories of our childhoods growing up in small towns in the north of England. There is much about Accrington that his like the town I grew up, for better and for worse. We shared some happy memories and some not so happy memories.

I shared some hilarious ones and one that wasn’t so funny. How people can sometimes respond to happiness with darkness and destruction. I remembered being at a youth club, I would have been 12 or 13 and it was a challenging time in my family life. I remember I felt safe and free at the club and was just enjoying watching the others dancing. I felt happy and I felt free and this broad beaming smile spread across my face. Suddenly for no reason known to me a boy just hit me in the face. I was in utter shock. The leaders spoke with him about it afterwards and asked him why he did it, to which he said “I don’t really know I just hated the fact that he looked so happy, it made me feel so bad.”

I shared how the incident reminded me of a scene from that nihilistic film “Fight Club” and the leading character saying that he was going out to destroy something beautiful, because he felt so terrible inside.

Sometimes seeing the light can remind us just how dark things truly are and can lead to ever darker responses. Light doesn’t always encourage others to seek ever more light. It can lead us to turn away, reject life and sometimes lead to the destruction of light and life.

To live fully alive, is to accept life in its entirety, both the joys and sufferings. It is to walk with others in their sufferings, to hold them in their time of need and to let them hold you when you need comfort too. It is not to hide your light. This serves no one, although it might not always be appreciated. How often in human history of we destroyed the lights that have shined the brightest. That said sometimes you can spend too much time basking in that light and that serves no one too.

This brings to my mind those words of Jesus; foundational words I believe to the message he brought to humanity. Words from his first sermon, in contrast to the words we quoted earlier from Moses final sermon. Words from “The Sermon on the Mount” . They are words that are foundational to my own simple faith, particularly verses 14, 15 and 16 (Matthew chapter 5).

“14 “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden.15 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”

Sounds simple doesn’t it. Yes, but not always so easy. It is worth it for you and countless others.

Life is full of opposites. There is joy and there is suffering, there is love and hate, there is hope and despair and there is light and dark. To live fully alive is accept all and to respond appropriately and to not be afraid to weep at times, to laugh, to smile and to shine your light.

To live fully alive, spiritually alive, is to live with your heart burst open, it is to live with a vulnerable heart. A vulnerable heart can be easily hurt and easily wounded, it will carry many scars.

Do not be afraid to shine your light, or to show your scars for those around you need to see them.

This brings to mind a story I heard a few years ago. Like all great stories it is one of mythos, it may be apocryphal, it may not be 100% true, but there is a deep truth within it.

It is the story about the soldiers who survived the battle of Agincourt. How each year, on the anniversary of the battle, they would stand up on their tip toes and proudly bare their scars for all to see. Scars of battle, scars of a life fully lived that they brought into that moment and in so doing became fully alive. Scars they were not afraid of, that they were not haunted by.

As they stood there they stood proud, fully alive, shining their light for the whole world to see.

They chose life in all its joys and sufferings.

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

The Shyness of Spring: Beauty Awakens Slowly, But Surely

“Beauty Is Our Birthright” by Rebekah Savage

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

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

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

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

Amen and ashe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Metamorphosis” by May Sarton

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Time for Serenity, Anyone?” by William Stafford

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mindful” by Mary Oliver

Every day
I see or hear
something
that more or less

kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“ Choose This Life: You Cannot Have Joy Without Suffering

Last Sunday 10th September I told the congregations I serve that it was exactly one year since I collected Molly. I had picked her as a kind of birthday present to myself. A friend had persuaded me to make the move, as I had been procrastinating. Bossy friends have their plusses. They are blessings and they are curses. This friend had gone the extra mile to persuade me to pick her, although truth be told she picked me. I had gone to collect one of her sisters, but Molly insisted I take her instead. She has been a wonderful blessing.

What I didn’t tell them last week is that it was the also the 1st anniversary of the death of our youngest cousin Cheryl. I had received the heartbreaking news just as I was about to set off to pick Molly up. So, I drove for 3 or more hours with tears streaming down my face. Composed myself and had a lovely hour with the puppies and then drove home with this little ball of fluff in a cage on my back seat crying all the way home. I didn’t cry on the way home, as I was more concerned with her tears. September 10th 2022 was definitely an example of the blessings and curses of choosing life, to misquote good old Moses.

This last year has been one packed with life. So much has happened. There has been some deep joys, but also many sufferings. We lost another cousin our Charlton and there have been many other family troubles, as well as those involving dear friends, and the communities I belong to. This is life, you cannot have joy without suffering.

It was my birthday on Thursday, I have received some lovely cards, gifts and blessings. Thank you. As I thought of the last year I was reminded of a visit to my grandad, just two years before he died. It was his 89th birthday. It was always such a joy to sit with him, I always felt safe and dearly loved. He talked about how we can never predict the future. How as a young man he and his best friend Percy had gone to sea together, to serve in the war. My granddad came back, but Percy did not. They both chose that same path, not that they had too much say in it, but only one of them carried on through this physical journey. My granddad lived a long life and experienced so much. He respected the privilege and opportunity that his life had been, something denied to so many others. I know that every night before he went to bed, he would pray and vow to live two lives, his and Percy’s. My grandad never talked about his personal beliefs, they were private, but he clearly had a faith. Life truly is the greatest gift of all, it is the ultimate grace. It is a privilege that we did nothing to deserve.

Do we always make the most of it. How often do we turn from life?

Of course “Choosing Life”, means all of life. We cannot negotiate with reality. In my view we don’t get to choose the life that happens to us, but we can respond to what happens to us, to paraphrase Viktor Frankl, this is the ultimate freedom. To choose life of course it to choose the journey, the whole journey, to continue on and on.

This brings to my mind the journey that the Israelites took to the Promised Land. It also brings to mind Moses final birthday, his 120th and the sermon he delivered that day, just as they were about to step out of the wilderness after 40 years. God had just informed him that he would not enter the Promised Land with the people he had led out of exile.

As they reach the Promised Land the people gathered to receive Moses’ final blessing. And what does he say? (Deutronomy Ch 30 v 19) This day I call the heavens and the earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live.” He tells them that they must “choose life.” Of course choosing life means all life, not just the bits you want. It also means you don’t get to choose what happens, but you must learn to not only accept, but love the life you have been gifted.

Life and death, blessings and curses. Monday was certainly one of those days. Two friends had sadly just lost their dad’s, we had the sad news of dear Penny Johnsons death and another friend whose lovely pet dog was in a critical condition. Not the day I expected to wake up to. This is the life I have chosen and people come to me, because this is my life. I also witnessed something beautiful whilst out in the park. A couple with two French bulldogs.I have seen them several times over the past few months. One is transported round in a dog pram. It has none functioning back legs. These last few months they have been working, lovingly and caringly getting this dog to walk again. Well, this week I saw them with both dogs, one being led around by a giant ball. It is walking again. It is inspirational to see how they have used their time, their lives in dedication and love. This to me is a beautiful example of choosing life. Something else I have witnessed in friends who have lost their dads and how they are there for their loved ones. This is not always easy when consumed by grief.

Choosing life and journeying is not a straight line. The ancient Israelites didn’t travel in a straight line. Their journey should have taken 6 months not 40 years. Life is not a straight line and time is not experienced exactly in a linear fashion.

The forty years wandering is purely symbolic. Time is not chronological as we experience day by day, not in this kind of mythos. It is not Chronos time, more Kairos time. Chronos time moves on day by day. The last 365 days so much has happened in my life, for good and for bad. It has certainly been “thick time” or what the ancients names Kairos time. Kairos time is not limited, through it we can indeed alter how we live out our time. We cannot lengthen such time but we can deepen or thicken the experience of this time. Kairos time is qualitative. It is measured by the depth of the moment and not the length, how many seconds it lasts. It’s what Blake described as infinity in an hour. In such moments it feels like the whole world takes a breath; in such moments our whole lives can change and yet in terms of measured “chronos” time it lasted no longer than any other second. This last 12 months I have experienced many such moments, These are the blessings and curses of choosing life.

As I mentioned earlier it was my birthday this week. I have received so many gifts and cards and greetings from people who mean so much to me and of course who I mean so much to. The wonderful thing about birthdays is that they allow us to celebrate the people in our lives. I love to sing happy birthday to people, it is one of my greatest pleasures. My brother Otis even attempted an impression of me. It was a good effort. It lacked the vibrato and a little in the bottom notes. It was wonderful to receive. As Henri Nouwen said: “We should never forget our birthdays or the birthdays of those who are close to us. Birthdays keep us childlike. They remind us that what is important is not what we do or accomplish, not what we have or who we know, but that we are, here and now. On birthdays let us be grateful for the gift of life.”

Each moment, each day is always the birth of new life.

This weekend marks the Jewish New Year Rosh Hashanah. The 10 days of Awe begins from sunset on Friday 15 September. This continues until the end of Yom Kippur at sunset on Monday 25th. This is The Day of Atonement, the holiest day in the Jewish calendar.

According to Jewish tradition, God inscribes each person's fate for the coming year into the Book of Life on Rosh Hashanah and waits until Yom Kippur to "seal" the verdict. During the Days of Awe, a Jewish person tries to amend their behaviour and seek forgiveness for wrongs done against God and against other human beings. The evening and day of Yom Kippur are set aside for public and private petitions and confessions of guilt. At the end of Yom Kippur, one considers oneself absolved by God and therefore can then be placed in the book of life for another year.

What is significant about this concept of atonement for me is that the wrong doer must first of all seek forgiveness from those they have wronged before they then turn to God and ask that they be returned to the book of life. Only after the transgressor has been forgiven by the transgressed can God’s forgiveness be obtained. It’s about being in right relationship with the world and humanity, before God.

As I look back at a year of changes, of the blessings and curses and living life. I see how much I have experienced. I can also see how much I could do better, especially in my relationships with those in my life. I want to live better with others. I want to live more effectively in this world.

This brings to mind this fascinating poem “The Birthday of the World” by Marge Piercy

“The Birthday of the World” by Marge Piercy

On the birthday of the world
I begin to contemplate
what I have done and left
undone, but this year
not so much rebuilding

of my perennially damaged
psyche, shoring up eroding
friendships, digging out
stumps of old resentments
that refuse to rot on their own.

No, this year I want to call
myself to task for what
I have done and not done
for peace. How much have
I dared in opposition?

How much have I put
on the line for freedom?
For mine and others?
As these freedoms are pared,
sliced and diced, where

have I spoken out? Who
have I tried to move? In
this holy season, I stand
self-convicted of sloth
in a time when lies choke

the mind and rhetoric
bends reason to slithering
choking pythons. Here
I stand before the gates
opening, the fire dazzling

my eyes, and as I approach
what judges me, I judge
myself. Give me weapons
of minute destruction. Let
my words turn into sparks.

I’m with Marge, “give me weapons of minute destruction. Let my words turn into sparks.” As I mark the passing year I wonder how I can journey on in better ways. Maybe this is something we can all think about as we continue on, reflecting as those of the Jewish faith will do in the coming days. What do we need to do to improve our relationships. What loose ends need tying up? What regrets are we living with? No one knows where the journey will lead, no one knows when it will end. We have before us life, it will be a mixture of blessings and curses. We are stepping forward into a new adventure with Janine, as she begins her own journey of ministry training. May our time together be fruitful. I am sure we and she will gain so much from the experience. So lets move forward in faith and hope and above all love. Before us is life, blessings and curses, let us choose life.

I would like to end this morning’s worship with some words by Wendell Berry

The Larger Circle, by Wendell Berry

We clasp the hands of those that go before us,
And the hands of those who come after us.
We enter the little circle of each other’s arms
And the larger circle of lovers,
Whose hands are joined in a dance
And the larger circle of all creatures
Passing in and out of life
Who move also in a dance
to a music so subtle and vast that no ear hears it
Except in fragments.

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

May we be people who embody hope for one another

Paul J. Wadell wrote:

“Hope has to be seen to be believed. It has to be made visible. It has to be something we can feel and touch. We are called to be persons who embody hope for one another. We have to be each other’s partners in hope.”

I have seen examples of this all around me, in the congregations I serve and the communities I am a part of and who love and care for the little oasis of love that are the gardens and buildings of Dunham Road Unitarian Chapel, at Sylvan Grove Altrincham.

Unitarianism and Unitarian Universalism at its core, I believe, is in so many ways about embodying hope for one another. To me this is what it means to live this free tradition. This is not a creed or a statement of belief. We are and have always been a tradition where no one is compelled to believe in anything that their conscience does not allow them to. That said I do see Hope and “Embodied Hope” at the core of our historical tradition. I see it in our present and I know that it is vital for our future. A Hope not merely talked about though but shown through our very being. That there is a goodness at the heart of everything. A kind of “Radical Ok-ness”. This is not a denial of what is wrong in life. More the belief that there is a potential goodness at the heart of everything and that it is true religious living to bring this goodness to life, through our imperfect human being. To me this is what it means to embody hope.

I have in recent weeks received some beautiful emails from families who I have conducted rites of passage services for. They have all expressed the same thing. They have talked about our principles, the sense of welcome. That they feel they are valued.

This place is sacred to many it is holy ground, as it was in the past. I have seen a couple of beautiful examples of this in recent weeks. There was the recent response, of so many, to what happened to the “Wind Telephone”. I have seen it again this week. On Tuesday night I wasn’t feeling too well. I was resting when there was a knock on my door, it was a guy called Chris who likes to sit and eat in the Chapel gardens. He came to tell me he had chased off some flower thieves from the chapel gardens. I had conducted a scattering of ashes in the "Garden of Remembrance", that Sunday. The family had left flowers in Remembrance of their recently deceased dad. Some had been spread and others left in baskets. I witnessed both sides of humanity that evening. At first it saddened me, I know that the thieves must be desperate to steal the flowers, but still it saddened me. My heart though was lifted by Chris, we talked for some time, and I got to know him. Despite his own troubles he was clearly someone embodying hope. He has come to love this place. He doesn’t worship in the chapel building, but he does, in his own way come and find his own peace here. I have been touched by how much this place and community is loved by so many. It embodies both love and hope and it brings that out in them. I know that we who call this our spiritual home have a deep love as folk have for generations. We say come as you are, exactly as you are, but do not expect to leave in exactly the same condition. There are no tests to belong here. You are not asked to believe certain things or live in certain ways. We not only tolerate but truly celebrate difference, diversity. There is a faith in the goodness of life. I feel our purpose is to embody this.

It is not just the land and the buildings though, that are this community. We continued on in our own ways, embodying hope, through the pandemic. We met on line and kept together in other ways, we embodied hope. Others joined us from time to time. Some still do through Zoom. I remember a beautiful moment early in the pandemic when Rev Peter Godfrey joined us. Peter was minister at Altrincham and Urmston in early 1960’s. Send a child to Hucklow began at Dunham Road at this time. He began his ministry at Urmston before then. After the service Alison Jackson told him that she had been the very first child he ever Christened. A beautiful moment connecting past, present and future. In difficult times it certainly brought hope to me and others too.

I cannot tell you how many times over the years, particularly the last few years, so many folk have embodied hope for me. They have brought respair, a fresh hope, a new hope. The church I dream of is to be that kind of spiritual community. A place where fresh hope, new hope is embodied. A place where respair is blessed into being.

May we be people who embody hope for one another.

There has been a Unitarian community in the town of Altrincham for over 200 years. It did not begin here at Dunham Road. It all began in Shaws Lane as members from Hale Chapel instigated the beginning of this new congregation in the neighbouring town of Altrincham. No doubt the passing of the 1813 Trinity Act, which finally legalised the holding of Unitarian views, played a role in the forming of this and other Unitarian congregations at this time and over the following decades.

The congregation grew and thrived over the years and eventually moved to Dunham Road in December 1872. This beautiful chapel, designed by the great Manchester architect Thomas Worthington. They came and formed this fellowship of love that we have been sailing in for many generations. They did so in hope and with genuine enthusiasm. They brought a fresh hope, they embodied it through their lives as folks have continued to do over the generations. As those who congregate do today. Yes, things have changed, including in recent times. Hybrid Zoom worship would have been something from science fiction just a generation ago. Maybe eventually AI will replace me the minister, I doubt it though. It may offer theological correctness, but not humanity.

I am very aware that today we stand on the shoulders of giants as we look ahead as a free religious faith offering hope to a community and world that does at times seem so divisive. May we embody this hope, offer respair. I believe that this free religious tradition that I am a part of has much to offer our world, as those who came before us did. I live with hope in my heart that we can continue to build on those firm roots that those who came before us planted. A solid trunk grew from those roots and many branches have stretched from it, leading to buds and leaves and fruits that have flowered and nourished so many. This house of love is a place where hope is born again and again, despite the cynical times we all live in.

We are connected to both the past and the future, we are links in a chain of history. It is our task to do the best we can with this our link in this time and place. We cannot shape the whole world, but we can do something in this our time and place, in full knowledge that this will influence the whole of history. We can become embodiments of hope. Everything matters you know, every breath, every feeling, every thought, every deed impacts in some way on the chain of life. Everything matters.

This fellowship of love that we sail in today is a place of nurture where the spirit can grow, but not alone. We do not sail this ship alone we do so in community with one another and with that eternal spirit that is present in all life and yet greater than it all. The Unitarian tradition is as much about community as it about individual freedom, something that seems lost in modern spirituality, something that is so needed in our time. We come together in love and to grow and flower in that same spirit.

May we be people who embody hope for one another.

The Chapel, the buildings and the gardens are holy ground. Here the spirit has spoken and been heard, just as the burning bush spoke to Moses. Here the Divine can speak to each, as it has for generations and encourage us to keep on moving forward to new freedoms. This though is not holy ground because it is especially sacred. No, it is holy ground because we who come consecrate it with our presence and the spirit that grows in and through us, that we bring to this place. Our task here is to increase the holiness and then take it out into our world where the worst aspects of humanity keep on desecrating.

May we be people who embody hope for one another.

As Wendell Barry so beautifully put it. “There are no unsacred places; there are only sacred places and desecrated places.” It is the task of this our free religious faith to nurture the sacredness from which we are formed and to carry that out into our world, through our lives. Everything matters you know, every breath, every feeling, every thought, every deed impacts in some way on the chain of life. Everything matters. I have felt this, in my body, in my being, in the marrow of myself these last few months. A deepening closeness to this community. It is not just an idea. It has become embodied. Molly has helped, I am certain of this.

May we be people who embody hope for one another.

Like absence of love a life lived without hope quickly becomes empty and meaningless. Please do not get me wrong I’m not talking about optimism here, they are not the same. Optimism is about an expectation of something to come, whereas hope is more about allowing something to grow from within. It is something that must be embodied. It is a form of love incarnating in life, something that begins in our own hearts. Hope is knowing that something beautiful will grow, even from what feels like the worst kind of suffering. Hope always overcomes despair as meaning emerges from the suffering. To paraphrase Vaclav Havel “Hope is an orientation of the spirit...It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense regardless of how it turns out.”

Or as Erich Fromm observed “To hope means to be ready at every moment for that which is not yet born, and yet not become desperate if there is no birth in our lifetime, Those whose hope is weak settle for comfort or for violence; those whose hope is strong see and cherish signs of new life and are ready every moment to help the birth of that which is ready to be born.”

May we be people who embody hope for one another.

So, what can we do in our time and place, how do we plant seeds of hope in our time and place? How do we take care of our link in the chain of life, in the chain of history? How can we ready ourselves “to help bring to birth that which is ready to be born”? How do we become people who embody hope for one another?

Well, I believe that it begins with two things. The first is to truly see our world and our shared life as a blessing, as a beautiful gift that we are a part of. This begins by first of all understanding that we too are blessings. We need to let this form and grow in souls, our hearts and our minds and then bring it to life, to embody such hope. We need to be filled with this spirit, to be enthused by it. To be enthusiastic. By the way that’s what enthusiasm means, from entheos to be filled with the spirit, with God. We need to be filled with this spirit and to set it free and begin to consecrate our world once more. We need to embody it. We need to let hope become an orientation of our spirit and to bless our world with this enthusiasm.

May we be people who embody hope for one another.

Now this maybe over stating it somewhat, but I have a friend who calls Dunham Road Chapel her Vatican. She doesn’t come here often, as she is a traditional Christian. She has been to a few services though and certainly sees this as a special place. She came the other day to sit quietly on the anniversary of her young brother’s death. For her it is a place of hope. It was certainly born here again for her one Christmas Eve.

May we be people who embody hope for one another. Let’s share this hope. Let us bless those we meet with our loving presence. Let’s make all ground holy ground. Let us show the world that everything matters. every breath, every feeling, every thought, every deed, everything matters.

May we be people who embody hope for one another.

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

Choose Life: Whatever Path You Follow

I woke up on Monday to two beautiful emails from the daughters of Alan Hardman whose ashes had been scattered in the Garden of Remembrance the day before. Just simple emails of thanks. They didn’t have to do so, but it was rather touching that they decided to. I stepped into the day, began my journey, with thoughts for the day and week ahead. I could have chosen to focus on work that day, but instead I chose friendship, some of which could have been named pastoral work. After taking Molly for a long walk. I went to see Helen Redhead at her mums. She was there with her powerlifting trainer Jason, a larger than life character in every sense. Helen had recently taken the courageous decision to start a new life in Kent, in order to primarily pursue her sport of “Power Lifting”. She had been in Manchester competing in the “British Powerlifting Union Championship” and had won her age group setting two British records. Helen had followed her bliss, took the courageous step to try something new in life. Yes, it had in some ways been birthed in tragedy, following the death of Andrea, but she had chosen to go down a new road and it was wonderful to see her choosing life. I was glad I was able to celebrate with her. She will be back on 18th of July to compete in Manchester, I plan to go along and cheer her on. I didn’t stay too long as I had to get home, to take Molly for a walk and do some work before heading to Stockport cemetery to attend the funeral of another friend John, who had died tragically. It was a moving but deeply sad service. I saw many friends who I have known over the years and remembered times we had shared together. One thing I have noticed about myself is that I am very quiet at funerals I am not involved in. I think some people take this the wrong way, but I think it is just a mark of respect. As I was driving home I remembered something I used to say to John when he was going through a bad time following the end of a relationship. I said to him to not see it as the end, but as a new possibility, “that all bets are open”. It helped him at the time and he would often say it back to me “All bets are open.” Yes, all things are possible, there is always time to change. Sadly, this is no longer the case for John.

My friends Martin and Jade weren’t working on Monday and had taken Molly for a few hours. I had just changed and was about to go and collect her when my phone rang. It actually rang three times, but it was the first phonecall that I would like to share about. It was a young man, at a similar age and crossroads as John was when I first met him. The young man was suffering with fear and uncertainty, unsure about life and which direction to go in. I listened for a while and then I told him about John. I told him that “All bets are open”. That he was free to choose whatever direction he wished. I also told him whatever choice he made mistakes would happen, things would go wrong, may even be a disaster. That this was ok and that he would be ok provided he could learn from the mistakes. He was about to go on holiday for two weeks and then would be returning to begin his next journey. I told him to enjoy himself and then I quoted good old Moses, I said choose life. I even gave him the full Deutronomy 30 v 19 quote:

19I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live.”

I had moved outside in the gardens at the chapel by this time. I was stood by the wind telephone. I was going to sit there for a bit and be quiet before going to pick Molly up. I was thinking about a few souls that have been lost in recent times. I was stood in front of it by now and was looking directly at it while talking to the young man, when I noticed something that broke my heart, the phone wasn’t there. Someone had ripped it from its bracket. This has happened once before. This time though they had not only damaged it, they had taken the old style phone away. I finished my phone call and then just sat down and wept for a while. I then took a picture and shared about it on social media, before going to collect Molly. I stayed for a while at Marti’s had tea and chocolate hobnobs and then we went for a walk. When I returned, I checked out my phone. My goodness me I was overwhelmed by the loving response form so many people. So much loving support and some anger. By the end of the evening different friends had gone to extra lengths and three new versions of the phone had been ordered. Tow have already been delivered to two different friends and another soon will be. So a replacement will be fitted in the next few days, with two spares if this happens again.

The phone means a lot to so many people in the community, as do the gardens at the chapel and myself. So many people have sat in that space and connected with those they have lost. It seems that soon the lines will be open again.

I went to bed that night touched by so many people I know, by their loving care and friendship; touched by how people will go out of their way at times; touched by how in general people choose to making loving decisions, decisions that are primarily about life. I also smiled as I found I had done the same I had chosen life, in all its joy and suffering, in all it’s blessings and curses. I also thought of John and those words “All bets are open”.

It seems a bit of no brainer to choose life, who wouldn’t? Well sometimes we do choose to stay in fear and avoid life. Whenever we turn from our God given gifts or fail to live authentically I suspect we are refusing life. Not that we should give ourselves too hard a time for this, as we can always turn back to life again; we can turn back down the path of life again. No one lives perfectly without ever being held back from fear.

To choose life is to accept life in all its joys and troubles. At John’s funeral there were many people who have courageously come through difficult challenges, two who have recently come through severe and life threatening forms of cancer. They carry their scars, both physical and emotional, but they were there and they were choosing life in every sense. One asked me if I was going to the wake afterwards, I said not. I often prefer not to. They were going, but primarily to ensure that John’s ex-partner was ok. Another decision based on love and care, despite their own suffering.

Choosing or refusing Life is a decision that we all make. It is not always obvious which one to take; fear in its many forms can often paralyse us in our decisions. So much so that we make no decision and thus do not choose life at all. Like the young man I was talking to on Monday, there is a fear that we could get it wrong, that “all bets are not open”, “That all bets are in actual fact closed.”

This brought to my mind the often misunderstood, misquoted and even mistitled classic poem “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost.

I will share it with you:

"The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

The poem is a gentle satire on indecisiveness. It is not primarily a celebration of rugged individualism and courageously striding on without fear, that many believe it was written for. This is why it is truly an every person poem, as I am sure we can all relate to this fear we feel when faced with such decisions. Frost himself said of the poem “ I wasn’t thinking about myself there, but about a friend who had gone off to war, a person who, whichever road he went, would be sorry he didn’t go the other. He was hard on himself that way.” The friend was Edward Thomas who Frost had sent the poem to privately in a small envelope, under the title “Two Roads”. Frost had been inspired to write the poem by Thomas’s habit of regretting whatever path the pair took during their long walks in the countryside, Thomas would torturing himself over the decisions to turn one way or another, or not. Frost equated this indecisiveness with the romantic predisposi­tion for “crying over what might have been.” Frost understood that we all feel this fear, that we don’t always choose life and not to be too hard on ourselves for doing so. He believed that his friend would take the poem as a gen­tle joke and would respond and protest against Frost’s teasing. It seems that he didn’t see the joke initially at least and Frost had to direct him back to his point.

Whatever path we choose it will not be smooth, it will be full of challenges, full of life and if we find it is not the right move, we can always change direction. It is ok to give up sometimes and start all over again. This surely is choosing life.

There will always be some indecisions in life, fear we will get it wrong. The truth is that we will get things wrong. Every day I say or do something, or fail to do or say something I should have. This though does not cause paralysis. Every day we have to make decisions about little things and sometimes monumental things. In so doing we choose life.

To choose life requires discernment. Discernment formed from the Latin word “discernere”, which means to separate, to distinguish, to sort out. Just think of prospectors panning for gold or sifting through the rocks and dirt in search of gem stones. They are separating, they are sorting through the muck for the jewels, they are distinguishing, they are discerning. Discernment is about choosing life.

Discernment is the key to making those wise choices. We need to discover what is of value and what needs to be discarded in our minds. We need to discard the dirt and muck to uncover the gold, the gems, to have clarity of thought, so that we can “choose life”. This is not easy, especially when we think of all that information that swims around in our lives and our consciousness; information like an enormous shoal of fish swimming round and round aimlessly in a small tank and not really going anywhere. Our lives, our heads are just so full of stuff. How do we discern what is healthy, what is right? Well we need silence, we need time away from all this information and all these things that pull us in so many directions. We need time to be still, time to be silent, time to connect to our bodies and our breathing; time to hear that still small voice of calm. A voice less than a whisper, but somehow more than silence. The voice of love, the voice of life, the voice that overcomes fear. The voice of God within.

We need to awaken to our true consciousness in order to make those sane and sensible decisions about life. We need to learn to separate those things that are of value and those that are not. We need to do this in order to hear that voice, that is less than whisper but that is somehow more than silence; that voice that has spoken down the centuries, to those who had ears that could hear it; the voice that spoke to the people of Israel and said “I have set before you life and death, a blessing and a curse. Therefore choose life”

The choices we make matter. It matters what we are and what we do. I do not think that God chooses this for us. Yes, God offers guidance, “The Lure of Divine Love” but it is up to us to choose the path that we follow. Remembering always that we can always change direction if we find that the road we are on is not one of life.

Let‘s choose life, by choosing the road in front of us. The road of love and the road that will bless all our lives. It won’t be pain free there will be joy and suffering, but above all there will be life.

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

What's in a name?

An occasional visitor to the area asked me the other day “if I knew Cornelius?”. My answer was no I don’t know anyone by that name. He told me that Cornelius knew me really well. I wracked my brain, surely I would remember someone called Cornelius. He described him and where I knew him from, but still I could not place him. I began to wonder if I was losing my mind. The next day I was talking with the visitor again and Cornelius arrived, he introduced himself to folk, “hi my name is Bernard”. I have known Bernard for many years. Apparently, Cornelius is his middle name, but that was the part that the occasional visitor could remember, not his actual name.

It has had me chuckling to myself ever since, it also got me thinking.

What’s in a name? Names are important it seems. There is a power in naming people, places and things; a power that should never be under estimated. There is a power in naming anything, not just our personal names but our lives, who and what we are.

My older brother was named after our dad and his dad, our grandad. He was named Billy (short for William) at birth. I am told I was to be called David, although my paternal grandfather wanted to name me Harry after his beloved brother who had died as a young boy, my mum didn’t like the name though. We could have been William and Harry, I am glad we are not. In the end I was called Danny, because it went with Billy apparently and David didn’t. My full name is of course Daniel David, although I have never been called this, certainly never within the family. Interestingly my brother renamed himself some 20 odd years ago and is now called Otis Wolstenholme; Wolstenholme being my mum’s maiden name.

Many people do not go by the name on their birth certificates, not just musicians like our Otis. I remember many years ago attempting to visit Molly Clarke at Wythenshawe hospital and being told there was no one by that name there. I had to think quickly and remembered somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind that Molly was not Molly at all, but had another name. Sadly I couldn’t remember it. Her birth name was Enid Mary, she had though always been called Molly.

Naming can be a tricky business. Names describe things, but never fully a person or situation or thing. As Paul Tillich said, “That which reveals, also hides”. I suspect it is true with naming of things. As Justin Sullivan sang “Trouble always begins in the naming of things. Like Gods and desires, lines in the sand.” People change their names for a variety of reasons. Folk adopt stage names. Sometimes in naming things, we close and seal them. I have been known by other names like “Dan Denver” and even “Mr Jolly” (although in truth that was the name of the band, not me) a friend use to call me “Danny Darko”. In the Christian tradition people often take on conformation names. There are many other reasons too. Company’s, political parties, even places and sports teams change their names for a variety reasons, often in an attempt to rebrand something.

As Daniel C. Matt wrote in “God and the Big Bang”

“We need names to navigate through life, but those very names obscure the flowing continuum. Behind each handy name is a teeming reality that resists our neat definitions. If this is true of the names we assign to the hundreds of thousands of things of this world, how much more so with our names for God, for the Oneness of it all.”

It seems we are nothing without a name. Well actually not always it seems. Some of the most memorable characters in cinema history had no name. Such as Clint Eastwood’s character in the Serge Leone’s Spaghetti Western Trilogy, “The Man With No name”, or Sam Elliott’s character in “The Big Lebowski”, who was simply known as “The Stranger”, or Charlie Chaplin’s “The Little Tramp”, he had no name. Or “The Doctor” in Dr Who, Who is not the Dr’s name, Dr Who is the name of the series, he and now she is simply named “The Doctor”, the character though remains unnamed. Or “Fleabag”, in the series by Sophie Waller-Bridge who is not named, she is just known as “Fleabag”.

Most of us have a name though, we are known by our names. When we introduce ourselves we usually say, “hello my name is …” Our names are one way of connecting to others face to face.

We hopefully remember the persons name, although not always. I sometimes find myself wracking my brain trying to remember people’s names. I am not quite as bad as the guy who kept on referring to Bernard as Cornelius, but I am not great.

There can be other types of calling people by one word names that are less than connecting and inviting, they can be quite the opposite. I am not going to name such names here, but I am sure we can all think of some. They are often powerful words used to exclude people and make them feel somehow less than welcome. Such words deny the inherent worth and dignity of people, they reduce them to lesser people, or they try to. I am sure we can all recall such words and name calling.

Everything is know or named after something. Our congregation is a member of the General Assembly of Unitarian of Unitarian and Free Christian Churches. Now many ask “Unitarian! What is that?” Cliff Reid even wrote a marvellous book about it.

Unitarian originally meant “One God” as opposed to the three headed God of the Trinity in mainstream Christianity. These days most Unitarians are not overly concerned about this, the word Unitarian has lost its literal meaning for most of us. As historian Earl Morse Wilber explains: “The word Unitarian means freedom in religious belief and a trust that reason must guide our religious thought and action, and a conviction that tolerance, the cherishing of difference of opinion, is a good thing.”

The be Unitarian to me is about being open and accepting of difference, at its core is a sense of humility that keeps us open to new truths, each of us can only know so much, further understanding is aided by coming together and sharing, by so doing each of us gain so much. Tolerance and love though must also be guiding principles, as others may come to other conclusions and understandings and love, in its many forms is what finally holds us together. Actually I am not sure that tolerance is quite enough, I have come to believe that we need to celebrate difference and not just merely tolerate it.

So we name things, as we understand them, but this is often where the trouble begins, as the naming can create barriers that separate us from one another. This is particularly true when it comes to matters of faith and belief. Our Unitarian tradition gives us complete freedom here. So please remember that when I speak of God, I may not be speaking of the Divine in exactly the same way that you understand. God for me is a very open and inviting word.

I love the way that Forrest Church addressed this in “The Cathedral of the World: A Universalist Thelogy”

“God language can tie people into knots, of course. In part, that is because ‘God’ is not God's name. Referring to the highest power we can imagine, ‘God’ is our name for that which is greater than all and yet present in each. For some the highest imaginable power will be a petty and angry tribal baron ensconced high above the clouds on a golden throne, visiting punishment on all who don't believe in him. But for others, the highest power is love, goodness, justice, or the spirit of life itself. Each of us projects our limited experience on a cosmic screen in letters as big as our minds can fashion. For those whose vision is constricted (illiberal, narrow-minded people), this can have horrific consequences. But others respond to the munificence of creation with broad imagination and sympathy. Answering to the highest and best within and beyond themselves, they draw lessons and fathom meaning so redemptive that surely it touches the divine.”

It can be difficult to speak of the Divine in any sense that keeps us open, trouble always begins in the naming of things. This brings to mind good old Moses in Exodus. The book depicts him fleeing Egypt to escape the consequences of killing a slave driver. He takes up the quiet life of a shepherd. One day he finds himself alone in the mountains, when a bush burst into flames. A voice tells him to shake off his shoes for he stands on holy ground, he realises he is in the presence of God. God had seen the sufferings of the Israelites and told Moses to go to Egypt and plead with the Pharaoh to let the Israelites go. Moses wondered why the Israelites would follow him, of all people, and so he asked for a sign, a name that would give him credibility with them. God responded, “I AM WHO I AM.” Here God has no name.

We are known by our names, everything is known by its name, but here God has no name, like the mysterious stranger in “The Big Lebowski”. This God is beyond limit and definition, beyond being named, beyond our limited understanding. We cannot confine God by our limited minds.

We can though find ourselves in a holy place, on holy ground and thus know the presence of the divine love. How do we do this, by blessing life with our holy presence, by being open to all that life is. In so doing we will surely know the love that is divine. We will surely be known by our true names.

So, what’s in a name? Well maybe this is something to think about as we enjoy this summer. Why are you called by your name? What other names, nouns and pro-nouns describe who you are? What does it mean to you to be a member of this congregation? What does it mean in a wider context? How do you live out who and what you are? How can we live as if all ground was holy ground? How do we bless one another and life with our holy presence?

What’s in a name indeed.

Below is a video devotion based 

on the material in this "blogspot"

A Labour of Love: Dedication it's What You Need

I love ministering to the communities I serve. It is a labour of love. What I love the most is that they don’t expect perfection from either myself or one another. As I so often say we are the church, we are the chapel, we are the community where everything goes wrong. Now despite this and maybe because of this we are a place of dedication, of welcome, of acceptance and most of all love. I think sometimes people are a little surprised by the informality. I hope that thy sense the care and concern, I believe that they do. I hope that they feel the warmth and the friendliness. I will always remember something that Margaret Darbyshire, a member from Urmston who died during the pandemic, said to me when she had been coming for a couple of years, “this is a church like no other I have ever been to, but I like it, it is how a church should be.” She came to us almost by mistake by accident, she is not the first and hope she won’t be the last to so. She stayed because as she said it was what she had been looking for all of her life.

Nothing works perfectly, something always seems to go wrong, I don’t think we have ever had a Sunday where everything has gone smoothly, or there has not been a seeming disaster at some point in the week. We are perfectly imperfect communities. The things we get wrong, our mistakes aren’t the most important parts of us. What matters more is what is at the heart of us; what matters the most is kindness and compassion. This is what I have witnessed and continue to witness more and more over the years. I have felt it oh so powerfully these last few weeks, it has touched me in those places that really count.

There is such love and deep dedication in these two communities. People show their love by blessing them with their presence. It is made holy by becoming sanctified by loving dedication. What I see is love in action, love alive in common humanity, love in tangible form. Here’s a little verse on that by Susan Karlson

“Love In Tangible Form” by Susan Karlson

Looking at the overflowing cup,
Seeing from another perspective,
Witnessing life in all its fullness,
We share from a place of hope and dedication
And put our love into tangible form.

Following this Sunday’s service, in Altrincham, we will be acknowledging the dedicated service of Martin West to the congregation, by unveiling a plaque in his honour at the organ. I will not embarrass Martin, he is a humble man, by listing all that he has done for the congregation and the wider Unitarian movement, it would take a long time to do so. Most of what he has done has been behind the scenes as he has for other causes too. He has done so much for others, often anonymously.

There is a similar plaque at Urmston in honour of Robert Haslem. He served the congregation in so many ways. The plaque reads “A labour of love”. This seems appropriate, as such dedication is most certainly done from love.

“Labour of Love” is an interesting phrase. I think I first became aware of it in the late 1980’s. It was a song by the Scottish group “Hue and Cry”. The phrase comes from translations of the King James version of the Bible, that was no doubt influenced by Shakespeare’s “Loves Labour Lost”, although he never actually used the phrase. It is to be found though in two verses in Thessalonians and Hebrews. It is the verse in Hebrews 6:10, that speaks to me: “For God is not unrighteous to forget your work and labour of love, which ye have shewed toward his name, in that ye have ministered to the saints, and do minister.”

Ministry for me is a labour of love. That said I am not the only person who ministers, we minister as a community of people. To minister literally means to serve, something I often want to remind those of a political persuasion about at times, particularly the Prime Minister, who ought to see himself as the number servant of the people, I suspect he does not. Do any of them?

I see examples of these labours of love all around, people serving from love, people ministering in their own ways, adding what they can to make the flavour and substance of the community, the ministrone of this ministry. Ministrone and minister both mean to serve.

I have seen wonderful examples of this in Urmston in recent weeks as folk have gone out of their way to ensure that we get the work done on the ceiling, so that we can function and survive and hopefully one day thrive again. We need to be here to offer a free religious community, to those who seek. I have witnessed that same dedication in Altrincham too. I have witnessed so much love and dedication here, during lockdown and as we have opened up again. We saw it last summer as Gwyneth ensured that we got the wind telephone installed to help with those in grief. Or in the Andrea’s insistence on getting those benches installed so we could meet outside, we will dedicate them to her memory and we will honour her after the service as we scatter half of her ashes in the Garden of Remembrance and place her name on the wall. The family will take the rest back to Aberdeen with them. She was such a blessing to us all, to this community.

People give their heart in love in many ways. There are so many labours of love. People dedicate themselves in so many ways and bless life in so many ways. I have witnessed this for years in the small schoolroom at Altrincham, which has been a home for Alcoholics Anonymous for nearly 50 years. Thanks in no small part to Andrea’s efforts it now houses 8 meetings a week. The dedicated service, the ministry in its many forms that goes on there has led to the transformation of so many lives. That little building, that humble building, truly is a temple of love, of dedication and of transformation, it truly is holy ground, although there is no need to shake off your shoes, when you step over the threshold.

Dedication is how we show our love through blessing the lives we touch and the places we visit with our loving presence. Places are made holy when we sanctify them with loving dedication.

“Dedication” is one of those words that has changed in meaning over time. It comes from an old French word “dedicacion which meant “concecration of a church or chapel”, coming from the Latin word “dedicare” meaning to concecrate, proclaim, affirm or set aside. It later came to mean to give yourself to a purpose. This is what the folk do in the communities I serve, I witness such dedication. We carry that love into our world, that is the purpose of my blessing each and every Sunday at the end of worship. For if we live in dedication to love and life we begin to bless all life, we make the ground at our feet holy ground as we consecrate it with our loving presence.

To me this is the true meaning of church, a place of transformation, a place where we recognise the sacred uniqueness of ourselves and one another, that we recognise the blessings that we are and the blessings in life and where we learn to go out into the world and bless it with our sacred uniqueness. The world awaits our blessing, for it surely needs it.

If we live in dedication to love and life we begin to bless all life, we make the ground at our feet holy ground as we consecrate it with our loving presence. Like Moses in Exodus who is told to “shake of his shoes” for he is standing on holy ground, in the presence of “I am”.

We can all hear the call of the Holy from deep within us and from all around us, we can all bless life with our holy presence. All we have to do is live with dedication, to consecrate the ground at our feet and the people who we meet, all we have to do is live with dedication and become the blessing that we have all been searching for. In so doing we will find ourselves instantly in the “Promised Land”

To live in dedication all we have to do is shake off our shoes and live our lives recognising that this truly is a holy place. Sacred living, holiness, dedication is about being fully alive. Holiness is a life fully alive, a life where we truly pay attention.

All we have to do to awaken the holy is to truly pay attention to the world and the people around us and truly inhabit the space in which we live and breathe and share our being. All we have to do is come to believe that we all walk on holy ground. All we have to do is wholly live our lives. All we have to do is live our lives in dedication to the holiest of holy purposes, to live in love. To love one another and to serve life in whatever way we can.

All we need is dedication…

Dedication, dedication, dedication, that’s what you need. If you want to be the best and if you want to beat to the rest, dedication is what you need.

Below is a devotion based on the 

material in this "Blogspot"