Stories are never just stories. We become the stories that we tell ourselves.

“The Two Tribes” by Mark Nepo

“In the beginning, when the first humans came across each other, it went two ways. Upon seeing someone different, the more fearful one said, "You're different. Go away." The other, upon seeing someone not like him, said, "You're different. Come, teach me what I don't know." While our reasoning has grown more complicated throughout the centuries, it's essentially the same. "Go away" or "Come, teach me."

Since the beginning, the two tribes have had their philosophies. The "Go away" tribe has always believed that human beings, by their nature, are self-serving and untrustworthy, in need of control. The "Go away" tribe believes in stringent laws and constraints, both moral and legal, to ensure that people don't run amuck. The "Come, teach me" tribe believes that human beings, by their nature, are kind and trustworthy. The "Come, teach me" tribe believes in empowering laws that cultivate freedom, to ensure that people actualize their web of gifts through relationship.

The truth is that we are born into both tribes and can move from one to the other, depending on the level of our fear. The times of genocide throughout history mark the extreme, malignant manifestation of the "Go away" tribe. Distorted by fear, it's not enough just to say, "Go away." For unbridled fear turns to anger, which normalized turns into prejudice and hate. Such deep, embedded fear dictates that we need to make sure that those who are different can't return. And so, we exile them, jail them, hurt them, and in extremely ugly cases, persecute and kill them.

However, the times of enlightenment throughout history mark the extreme manifestation of the "Come, teach me" tribe, which through learning and wonder leads to eras of compassion and cooperation. Empowered by trust, curiosity turns into interdependence and a belief that we are more together than alone. When allowed to blossom, we realize that we need each other and our diversity of gifts to make life whole.”

“Stories are never just stories. We become the stories that we tell ourselves.”

A traveller was riding through the countryside. He was heading to the city for a wedding. He had been riding for some time when he realised he had become lost. He noticed a man sauntering along, happy in his own thoughts. The traveller thought he had better approach him and ask for directions. Unfortunately, he was unaware that the man he was approaching was Nasruddin. There may be trouble ahead…

The man approached Nasruddin and asked, "What is the best way to get to the city.”

Nasruddin looked up at the man and then looked ahead, before looking backwards. He looked up at the sky, before looking down once more and contemplated for some time. He then looked up at the man again before looking ahead, only slightly to the right this time. He then looked back at the man and began to speak: "Well, if I were going there, I wouldn't start from here."

Whenever we set out on a journey, it matters where we start from, where our journey begins. Yes, it isn’t the journey, but it will impact on how we travel.

We never step into anything without a past; we carry the past with us to some degree or another. How we journey in life will be influenced by our starting point, by what we are taught either subliminally or deliberately. How we see ourselves, one another, and or the world, will impact on how we journey and how we meet life. It matters how we greet the world and how the world greets us. Where we begin from will have a bearing on the journey, on how we live each day. Are we come teach me people or go away people? It matters how we greet one another and or greet life.

The other day the following post appeared in my Facebook Feed. It is by social historian I follow “Rutger Bregman” Published on 20th February 2026

The BBC just released a new adaptation of Lord of the Flies, the classic novel by William Golding. It's beautifully made, but it's still telling the wrong story.

A few years ago, I went looking for the *real* Lord of the Flies. I wanted to know: has it ever actually happened? Have kids ever been shipwrecked on a deserted island?

It took me a year of research, but I found it. In 1965, six boys from a boarding school in Tonga stole a boat, got caught in a storm, and drifted for eight days without food or water. They washed up on 'Ata, a remote, uninhabited island in the Pacific. They stayed there for 15 months, and what happened on that island was the exact opposite of William Golding's novel.

These boys set up a small commune. They built a food garden, stored rainwater in hollowed-out tree trunks, created a gym with improvised weights, and built a badminton court. One of them, Stephen (who would later become an engineer) managed to start a fire using two sticks. They kept it burning the entire time.

Of course they fought too. But when they argued, they had a rule: go to opposite ends of the island, cool down, then come back and apologize. As one of them told me: ‘That's how we stayed friends.’

Back home, everyone assumed that the boys – Luke, Stephen, Sione, David, Kolo and Mano — were dead. When they were finally discovered by an Australian captain named Peter Warner, he radioed their names to Tonga. After twenty minutes, a tearful response came back: ‘You found them! These boys have been given up for dead. Funerals have been held. If it's them, this is a miracle!’

Peter commissioned a new ship, hired all six boys as his crew, and named the boat the Ata, after the island where he found them. They remained friends for the rest of their lives – Peter and Mano even became soulmates. I tracked them down, and it became one of the central chapters of my book Humankind.

Here's what struck me most: William Golding (the author of Lord of the Flies) was a troubled man, an alcoholic who once said ‘I have always understood the Nazis, because I am of that sort by nature.’ I think he was projecting his own darkness onto children. And we turned it into a lesson about human nature that we teach to millions of kids around the world.

I think the real lesson is the opposite. When real children found themselves alone on a real island, they didn't descend into savagery. They cooperated. They took care of each other. They survived.

I'm not saying that the Tongan castaways were representative of all kids everywhere. But I am saying that every kid who has to read or watch the fictional Lord of the Flies also deserves to know what actually happened when it played out in real life.

Stories are never just stories. We become the stories that we tell ourselves.

I remember when I first learnt of this account back in 2020 at the beginning of lockdown it had a profound effect on me, as did his book “Humankind”. In the true story of the “Lord of Flies” when school boys were lost, stranded, on a desert island they did not descend into chaos and destruction. What they did do was take care of one another, in fact they found ways to not only survive, but to function as a community, until they were rescued. Why are we not taught this story? I didn’t learn about it in school. Why instead are we only taught the story of chaos and destruction, of distrust and greed. Why are we so carefully taught that we are by our nature wrong?

In the chapter “A New Realism” Rutger Bregman wrote in his book “Human Kind: A Hopeful History”

“Scenario:

An airplane makes an emergency landing, breaks into three parts, the cabin fills with smoke, everyone inside realises that they need to get out as soon as they can. Which scenario sounds more likely?

PLANET A: the passengers turn to their neighbours to ask if they’re ok, those needing assistance are helped out of the plane first, people are willing to risk their own lives to help random strangers.

PLANET B: everyone is left to fend for themselves, there is a mad rush for the exit, panic breaks out, there’s lots of pushing and shoving, the children/elderly/disabled are trampled by the mad crowd as they rush out

97% of people estimate that we live on Planet B, that mass panic is the most likely. But it has been found in almost every case that we live on Planet A – we are kind and we help each other where we can. If you watch the Titanic movie it looks like panic, but if you ask people who were actually there they say that the evacuation was actually quite orderly. Or think of September 11 – as the twin towers burned, thousands of people calmly descended the emergency stairs, even though their lives were in immediate danger. They stepped aside for firefighters, they let the injured be carried ahead of them. People would actually stop and say “no on, you go first” or “please take my place” – there was no madness.

There is a persistent myth that by our very nature humans are selfish, aggressive and quick to panic. Dutch biologist Frans de Waal calls this “veneer theory”, the notion that civilisation is nothing but a thin veneer that could crack under the slightest pressure. But in actual fact, in times of crisis (when bombs are being dropped or flood waters are rising), then we humans become our best selves. We may have a good side and a bad side, but there is considerable scientific evidence showing that in times of crisis we overwhelmingly turn to our good side.”

Much like Nepo highlights in the story I shared earlier we are both types of people “The come teach me people” and the “go away people”. The problem is that we seem to believe that generally speaking we are “Go Away People” by nature and so is everyone else. We believe we are the fiction of William Goulding rather than the Tongan schoolboys who created structures to take care of each other. They knew that their lives depended upon them cooperating together on the remote island of “Ata”.

I believe we have both aspects, both potentials within us, “The come teach me” and the “go away”, we inhabit both planet A and planet B. That the aspect that comes to prominence is the one we develop. It matters what stories we tell about ourselves and one another, as the stories we tell becomes the life we will lead and the world we live in. This is the place where we will begin every journey, every single day of our lives.

This is beautifully illustrated in the following story:

An old man said to his grandson, “there’s a fight going on inside me, a terrible fight between two wolves. One is evil – angry, greedy, jealous, arrogant and cowardly. The other is good – peaceful, loving, modest, generous, honest, and trustworthy. These two wolves are fighting within you too… and every other person on the planet”

After a moment the boy asks “which wolf will win?”.

The old man smiles: “The One You Feed”.

It matters the stories that we tell of ourselves and one another. We have a natural reticence to speak of the good we do. In fact, those who do the most, prefer to do so anonymously. We do not follow the directive of Jesus from the “Sermon on the Mount”, we hide our light it would seem. The story we tell is not to speak of the good we do. Not everyone of course and actually those who do boast about their achievements can often overstate them. I don’t feel comfortable singing my praises or when others sing them to me. I know how uncomfortable I felt the other week when Jane Brophy the Mayor of Trafford did so publicly. This has been on my mind as have written and delivered eulogies for some wonderful folk recently. We seem to feel comfortable singing the praises of folk after they have died, but not while they are still alive.

How often have I heard people say when they do good things that they often disguise them behind some kind of selfish motive. Why do we tell these stories about ourselves, why do we make ourselves sound worse than we are? Why do we promote negative stories about ourselves? Why are we so uncomfortable with praise? I have seen examples only this week of people apologising for the good that they have done. It is charming and lovely and I recognise it in myself. That said it serves no one and actually leads to us telling negative stories about ourselves.

As Rutger Bregman noted in “Humankind”

“Unfortunately, this reticence works like a nocebo. When you disguise yourself as an egoist, you reinforce other people’s cynical assumptions about human nature. Worse by cloaking your good deeds, you place them in quarantine, where they can’t serve as an example for others. And that’s a shame, because Homo puppy’s secret superpower is that we’re so great at copying one another.”

Bregman suggest that we “come out” about our generosity as an example to others, to encourage them to do the same. To counteract the narrative of so-called human selfishness. That it is our nature to learn, to almost copy and mimic others, we like to fit in. therefore if we teach a frightening and scary and untrustworthy nature then this will be mimicked in others, thus creating a nocebo effect.

So maybe it is time to come out of the closet about who we are, to stop hiding our light. To stop suppressing our humanity. To recognise the instincts that are a part of our humanity. Yes, we are capable of hideous and heinous things. We only have to pick up any daily newspaper to see evidence of this, but this is not all that we are. We only hear the bad news about everything. We need to become the good news, the news the world needs to hear. Maybe it is time to start telling a different story about ourselves and one another.

“Stories are never just stories. We become the stories that we tell ourselves.”

I was recently talking to a young man. He is someone I have got to know over the last couple of years. It has been wonderful to see him grow as a person. That said he is like so many folk, he has a pretty cynical view of life and the state of the world. He tells me his generation is the hopeless one; he told me he had little or no hope for the world. I spoke with him and pointed out that humanity as been through much worse times that now and we have not destroyed ourselves. I told him that while I may not be a “cockeyed optimist” I do live in and by hope. I believe in our capacity. Yes, we are living through troubled times, but hope will carry us through, if we live by it, if it grows from our hearts. If we tell ourselves that all hope is not lost, that this can be the story we will live by and the road we can follow. I left him with the following quotation by Vaclav Havel

“Either we have hope within us or we don’t; it is a dimension of the soul, and it’s not dependent on some observation of the world. Hope is an orientation of the spirit, an orientation of the heart; it transcends the world that is immediately experienced, and is anchored somewhere beyond the horizons.

Hope in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well, or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously heading for success, but rather an ability to work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance to succeed.

Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism.

It is not the conviction, that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out. It is Hope, above all, which gives the strength to live and continually try new things.”

I know how vital it is that hope is the starting point of each and every journey. It is what makes my heart sing.

“Stories are never just stories. We become the stories that we tell ourselves.”

The other week I shared some of the story of Oscar Hammerstein II, at the interfaith entertainment evening. I spoke of his Universalism, a faith whose story is one of Hope; that this Hope inspired his life and work; that he wrote songs of love and hope and social change. Here’s a classic from “South Pacific”

"A Cockeyed Optimist" Lyrics

When the sky is a bright canary yellow
I forget ev’ry cloud I’ve ever seen—
So they call me a cockeyed optimist,
Immature and incurably green!

I have heard people rant and rave and bellow
That we’re done and we might as well be dead—
But I’m only a cockeyed optimist,
And I can’t get it into my head.

I hear the human race
Is falling on its face
And hasn’t very far to go,
But ev’ry whip-poor-will
Is selling me a bill
And telling me it just ain’t so!

I could say life is just a bowl of Jell-O
And appear more intelligent and smart,
But I’m stuck like a dope
With a thing called hope,
And I can’t get it out of my heart!
Not this heart!

Now someone who is considered a “cockeyed optimist” is often mocked as naive, Pollyanna-ish and maybe they are. Maybe optimism in the sense of expectation is unrealistic, that said so is cynicism in the sense that this is how something will work out, that it is inevitable. I wouldn’t start any journey from that place. That said if you step out in hope in a belief in the potential, in our capacity then you might step out on a very different journey. This is Hope rather than optimism.

“Stories are never just stories. We become the stories that we tell ourselves.”

Now of course the story we often tell of ourselves, even if it is done so subliminally, is one of distrust, that there is something wrong with our nature. I was recently talking with a friend who has a real problem with the word “sin” when he hears the word his toes curl. This is due to the story he was told growing up, that he was a sinner to the core. His problem is with the idea of “Original Sin”, the story that we are wrong by nature and can only be saved by a certain kind of faith. I do not believe in “Original Sin”, that said I do believe in “Sin” of a sort, in the sense of falling short of what I am capable of being. I am as human as the next person and I fall short. That said I reject any idea that I am permanently flawed in nature, that any of us are. Well, the rational part of me rejects it. Sadly, there is a part of me where this idea that there is something wrong in me, still exist somewhere beneath my rational mind. Why because this is the story I and others keep telling about ourselves and others. It is the story at the heart of the fictional “Lord of the Flies” and it is at the heart of many other stories we tell about ourselves, and yet it isn’t the whole story is it, and it certainly isn’t the story of the “The Real Lord of the Flies”. It is not the story of the boys on the island of Eta.

“Stories are never just stories. We become the stories that we tell ourselves.”

It seems we are being carefully taught that we are fundamentally and irredeemably flawed. Maybe it is time we started telling another story. The story of Hope. Maybe it is time to stop hiding the light of what we are capable of being. Maybe one day they will make a big budget movie about the 6 Tongan Boys who created a community and took care of each other on the island of “Eta”, who created a civilised society and not only survived, but thrived.

Where and how are you going to begin your journey. It matters you know, it really does. For “Stories are never just stories. We become the stories that we tell ourselves.”

I am going to end this morning with a bit more from South Pacific, another from Oscar Hammerstein II

"You’ve Got to Be Carefully Taught"

You’ve got to be taught to hate and fear,
You’ve got to be taught from year to year,
It’s got to be drummed in your dear little ear—
You’ve got to be carefully taught!

You’ve got to be taught to be afraid
Of people whose eyes are oddly made,
And people whose skin is a different shade—
You’ve got to be carefully taught.

You’ve got to be taught before it’s too late,
Before you are six or seven or eight,
To hate all the people your relatives hate—
You’ve got to be carefully taught!
You’ve got to be carefully taught!

“Stories are never just stories. We become the stories that we tell ourselves.”

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

Advent: Plant Yourself at the Gates of Hope

"The Sun Versus the Moon"

What do you think is most valuable to us the sun or the moon?

Well interestingly the wise fool Nasrudin was once asked this question and this was his reply.

Nasrudin: “Well, the sun is out during the daytime when there is light. The moon, on the other hand, provides light during the night when it’s dark. Thus, the moon is obviously much more valuable.”

Good old Nasrudin the holy fool the bringer of un-common sense. Now I know some of you are thinking what a ridiculous thing to say but please do look beyond the obvious here. Please put aside your literal faculties. There is a deep truth here. Light is a priceless commodity during times of darkness but of far less value when it is already light.

“Under the cover of darkness the moon was laughing at the sun, you can’t outshine me here”

A single flame, a simple light is of immense value in the dark, but is of no use when the light of the world is shinning oh so bright. One single light has to capacity to illuminate darkness, for a light shone in the dark and the darkness did not overcome it. We need more light, more hope in the winter time, winter is here.

“And I’ll give you hope, when hope is hard to find and I’ll bring a song of love and a rose in the winter time.”

I fell in love with this hymn many years ago, it was at the time that our oldest brother, our Allen was dying. Our Mandy told me that she had visited him in the hospice and as she left she saw a single rose in the garden. I reckon it was a peace rose from her description as it is hardy rose that can survive anything, including winter. There it was offering her hope in the winter both seasonally and the heart of our family. I shared the hymn “Rose in the Winter Time” with her, it has given us great meaning ever since, deep hope. I share it with many folk in times of despair, when they need a little light in the dark times. You don’t really need it when you are walking, even dancing in the sunlight of the spirit. I like to plant a rose, plant myself at the gates of hope. It helps to keep us through the night.

In another piece from Victoria Safford on hope she related being told by a psychiatrist at college who had recently lost a woman to suicide humbly admitting “You know I cannot save them. I am not here to save anybody or to save the world. All I can do — what I am called to do — is to plant myself at the gates of Hope. Sometimes they come in; sometimes they walk by. But I stand there every day and I call out till my lungs are sore with calling, and beckon and urge them in toward beautiful life and love…”

We are here to plant ourselves at the gates of hope. To shine some light in the dark places of this our world.

Have you ever met someone who has just powerfully affected you, to the core of their being, a person who just exudes pure love. A person who shone like the brightest of light. I have met a few people in my life who just had this profound effect on me. Some I met just briefly, others I knew for periods of time, some decades. I have been thinking of a few of those souls in recent months. I have been remembering many souls who have touched my life. The last 18 months seem to have been one of constant grief. I have lost so many folk, from all aspects of my life. It has weighed heavy on me at times. These last few weeks this has led me to think of the lives that have touched me, especially those who planted themselves at the gates of hope. Those that lit the flame of hope by just being themselves. Those lights that shone in the darkness and the darkness and the darkness did not overcome them

Now I could talk of ordinary examples and there are many, but I would like to tell you about a better known one. I have spoken of her before. She is one from my childhood, who I met a few years ago. This is Baroness Floella Benjamin. I fell in love with her as little boy in the 1970’s as she took us through the windows of “Playschool”. For those younger than me “Playschool” was a children’s television program in the 1970’s. Floella has lived an incredible life and was made a life peer a few years ago. I met her when I was asked to attend a parliamentary forum on “Men’s Health”. She listened intently as I spoke and then she approached me and asked if she could hug me. I of course obliged. It was the most incredibly loving experience I have ever known. It was pure love. She exudes this incredible spirit. She is famous for her hugs and I now know why. Floella Benjamin is someone who plants herself at the gates of hope. She lifts people. There is nothing cynical about her. She embodies what it means to live as we are capable of living. She encourages others to be the same. She embodies those famous words of Albert Schweitzer

“At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.”

“oh come you now unto the flame, keep it through the night. Shelter and embrace it’s warmth and keep it’s precious light.”

She is one of those people that lights the flame of hope in others. Is there anything more beautiful in this world. Is there anything more needed in these darkening times. It is certainly true that we are living through dark times. It is winter and we need to find those lights of hope to guide us through. It reminds of those by Victoria Safford that Parker J. Palmer shared in the earlier reading. Rev Victoria Safford serves the White Bear Unitarian Universalist Church in Saint Paul, Minnesota, USA. She said:

“Our mission is to plant ourselves at the gates of hope — not the prudent gates of Optimism, which are somewhat narrower; nor the stalwart, boring gates of Common Sense; nor the strident gates of self-righteousness, which creak on shrill and angry hinges; nor the cheerful, flimsy garden gate of “Everything is gonna be all right,” but a very different, sometimes very lonely place, the place of truth-telling, about your own soul first of all and its condition, the place of resistance and defiance, the piece of ground from which you see the world both as it is and as it could be, as it might be, as it will be; the place from which you glimpse not only struggle, but joy in the struggle — and we stand there, beckoning and calling, telling people what we are seeing, asking people what they see.

Of all the virtues, “hope” is one of the most-needed in our time. When people ask me how I stay hopeful in an era of widespread darkness, I answer simply: “Hope keeps me alive and creatively engaged with the world.”

It keeps me alive and fully engaged too. It draws me on and beyond myself to live alive in this world.

To quote Vaclav Havel “Hope is an orientation of the spirit”, it is something that holds us and sustains us right here right now. It does more than that though, it draws us on, even if at times its light seems dim. It draws me out beyond myself. It helps me, plant myself at the gates of Hope.

It is “Hope” that points towards what we can do, it leads the way. Rather than just sitting there shinning light on all that is ugly and unpleasant, pointing out all that is wrong and riling up ever more anger, hate, division and blame. It saves me from slinging mud at the world. Our world does not need any more of this, not this winter.

I was reminded recently of a couple of friends who I used to name “Statler and Waldorf”. One of them is no longer in my life sadly, the other though is. To some degree I gave them the name in jest, but there is a serious point to all of this.

Now for those who don’t know “Statler and Waldorf” are two characters from Jim Henson’s “The Muppet Show”. The pair don’t really participate in the show and instead sit on the balcony heckling the rest of the characters who are trying to create the show. They are archetypes for all of us who sit back, pour scorn and criticise the efforts of others to do the best that they can. It’s so easy to do this is it not; it is so easy to just to sit back and criticise the best efforts of others while doing nothing ourselves.

Increasingly we seem intent on fault finding and discovering the imperfections in one another. Why do we do this? Do we believe it will help us feel better about ourselves if we pour scorn on the imperfections of others? Maybe, maybe not?!? It is easy to be the critic and shine light on what is wrong, anyone can do that. It is much harder to shine some light in the darkness and show a different way.

The critic is someone who stands at the side taking pot shots at the people who have the courage to stand above the parapet and give themselves to life, to plant themselves at the gates of Hope.

In “The Heart of the Enlightened” Anthony De Mello tells the following story.

“A woman complained to a visiting friend that her neighbour was a poor housekeeper. “You should see how dirty her children are – and her house. It is almost a disgrace to be living in the same neighbourhood as her. Take a look at those clothes she has hung out on the line. See the black streaks on the sheets and towels!”

The friend walked up to the window and said, “I think the clothes are quite clean, my dear. The streaks are on your window.”

This story brings to mind a passage from Matthew’s Gospel (ch 7 vv 1- 12) “Why do you see the speck in your neighbours eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye.” It easy to pass judgement and to find fault in others but is that what our task is? To tear apart everyone else and to point out where they are going wrong? Or is it to make the most of who we are not only for ourselves but for the good of all. Is our task to be the critic who picks apart what others do or is it to contribute to life in whatever ways we can? I for one no longer wish to choose the path of lazy cynicism and criticism. I’d much rather do what I can and risk getting shot down. I would much rather plant myself at the gates of Hope.

It is easy to sling mud, to be a cynic, to highlight all that is wrong. It is harder to plant ourselves at the gates of Hope. To lift others up, to encourage, to live wholly from love. To live like Floella Benjamin.

As you probably know I love dogs. My little dog Molly teaches me so much. Now what you might not know is that there is a school of ancient Greek philosophy named after dogs. Do you know which one? Well, it might surprise you to hear that it was the cynics. How and why? You may well ask? Dogs do not appear to be cynical animals at all. Well, cynicism aint what is used to be.

The best known of cynics was Diogenes. Many of his habits certainly resembled an undomesticated dog. He loved basking naked on the lawn while his fellow philosophers talked on the porch. As they debated the mysteries of the cosmos, Diogenes preferred to soak up some rays.

Diogenes could be found wandering through the streets in the mid-day sun squinting and holding a lantern to find his way, claiming he was “looking for an honest man” He lived in a hollowed out half barrel which he wheeled through the streets. This was his only possession except for a wooden bowl which he destroyed in protest at the fakeness of society after seeing a boy slave drinking water with his cupped hands.

Those ancient cynics protested against society and attempted to mitigate the dangers of hubris. They believed “virtue” was the only good and that self-control was the only means of achieving it. They rejected what they saw as the falseness of the time. They rejected the luxury of home living and personal hygiene and they believed that the best way to get their message across to the general public was to verbally abuse them and expel bodily fluids on them as they went about their daily business. I suspect that the phrase “mud slinging” may have its origins in the original cynics.

The ancient Greeks “cynics” were the critics of their time and place. They pointed out what was wrong. The original “cynics” had a way of bringing the greatest down to the truly humble level, they were an antidote to the hubris of the day. Yes, they had their plus points. That said there were negatives too, it certainly was not a pathway to friendship and community building. It seemed to me to be the ultimate in isolation and individualism. Anyone can be critical of what others are doing, but what about doing something yourself? The cynics never entered the arena, no they slung mud and criticised those who did.

It is easy to be the critic who sneers and throws mud at the person who gives life an honest go, who dares to step into the arena to do good, to do what they can. It says something of our age that one of the worst things a person can be today is a so called “Do-gooder”. Since when is doing good a negative thing? Well in this cynical age it seems.

There is no real satisfaction in sneering at life, just slinging dirt or pointing out the dirt on someone else’s washing or missing the plank in your own eye for the speck in your neighbours. It is easy to be a critic. It is harder to plant ourselves at the gates of Hope. What the world needs right now is less critics and more constructors. That is not to say that we should not be critical. Any healthy society needs those who point ought what can be done better. We need to shine light in the dark places of light. The key is how we do this.

We need to bring hope, when hope is hard to find. To shine some light in darkness of winter. Of all the virtues, “hope” is one of the most-needed in our time. It is Hope that, to quote Parker J. Palmer “keeps me alive and creatively engaged with the world.” When we choose despair and cynicism over hope it is a reflection on the state of our own souls, more than a reflection on the state of the world. It serves no one and it destroys our own souls.

We need to plant ourselves at the gates of Hope.

I look for the examples, for those who shone some light, all those beautiful souls that have touched my soul, many who have gone now, many who are still here, many I have yet to meet. I remember how they lit the flame, how they lit up my heart and soul. How they planted themselves at the gates of Hope and I try and do the same.

So what are you going to do with this one marvelous life you have been given. Are you going to pour scorn, point out all that is wrong, sling dirt, or are you going to plant yourselves at the gates of Hope.

It is up to you, it up us to us all. Our lives depend upon it.

We need to plant ourselves at the gates of Hope.

This Advent season may we plant ourselves like seeds of Hope in the mangers of all our hearts. Let us nurture this this hope and when the moment of magic comes, as it always does on Christmas morning, may we give birth to that love here and now.

Let us shine light on the darkness, let us plant ourselves at the gates of hope.

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

Advent: Hope keeps me alive and creatively engaged with the world

Something has happened to me that I don’t like. I am now considered a senior minister. This is not something I warm too, which is pure vanity by the way. Senior sounds old and my ego wants to protest against this. The truth is though that I am. I have in the last year become more engaged in helping to develop our future ministers. I spent a few days away recently with the “Ministry in the Making” team. It was a very productive time as we began to shape next years program. There were many wonderful conversation including a rather beautiful one when the Helen Mason, the director of Unitarian College, shared something from a sermon of her paternal grandfather the great Rev Leonard Mason. I am told he once conducted one of the weddings of Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor. Helen is from a long lineage of Unitarian luminaries including John Relly Beard one of the co-founders of Unitarian College Manchester and who is buried in Brooklands cemetery in Sale. Relly Beard is distant relative of her later mother Joy Winder who helped shape my own journey into ministry.

Sorry I digress. The sermon described God as being like a white tailed deer. Now I didn’t know this, but have since learnt that the white tailed deer raises its tail when it detects danger and it as it does the white underside of the tail becomes visible. It is this that is a metaphor for God and the suggestion being that you get a glimpse of this from time to time and it is this that draws us on. It spoke powerfully to me and my understanding of God, as not that which controls everything, but more that which is present, always luring me on, drawing me out of myself. The light of hope which at times may go quite dim and yet burns bright in the darkest of times the night. It reminded me of the humble words of the classic “Waterboys” song “The Whole of the Moon”. “I saw the crescent, you saw the whole of the moon”. I was thinking of this as I a friend discussed the beautiful crescent moon on cold and wet Tuesday morning. It is this sometimes dim light that brings me hope when hope is hard to find, my rose in the winter time. It also brought to mind the following “A Theology Adequate for the Night” by Nancy Shaffer

“A Theology Adequate for the Night” by Nancy Shaffer

Not God as unmoved mover:

One who set the earth in motion and withdrew. Not the One to thank when those cherished do not die – for providence includes equally power to harm. Not a God of exacting, as if love could be earned or subtracted.

But-this may work in the night:

Something that breathes with us, as others sleep; something that breathes also on those sleeping, so no one is alone. Something that is the beginning of love, and also each part of how love is completed. Something so large, wherever we are, we are not separate; which teaches again the way to start over.

Night is the test: when grief lies uncovered, and longing shows clear; when nothing we do can hasten earth’s turning or delay it.

This may be adequate for the night:

This holding: something that steadfastly breathes us, which we also learn to breathe.

God for me is always present, as close as my breath and yet this is not always clear. Yet is does seem to draw me, even though I only sometimes get a glimpse, see the crescent, whilst others see the whole of the moon.

At the end of sessions at “Ministry in the Making” we shared some devotional worship. Ant Howe played a wonderful version of the Hymn “Nearer Thy God to Me” by a Mormon male voice choir, it was incredibly powerful and moving. It is beautiful hymn, an absolute classic, written by the Unitarian writer Sarah Flower Adams in 1841. No doubt she will have known John Relly Beard. It depicts the story of Jacob’s dream, sometimes called Jacob’s ladder and was reputedly played by the band on the Titanic as it sank.

All this got my homiletic consciousness going and got me thinking of Advent and the light of hope that draws us as we head towards that moment of magic that is Christmas, when the light of hope is born once more. A light that always draws me on despite life’s very real struggles and the temptation of despair that comes in the night of life. I may only get a glimpse of the crescent, but it is enough. It seems I do not need to see the whole of the moon.

Today marks the beginning of Advent. A time for waiting, a time of preparation. A time set aside to wait for the “coming” of Love in human form symbolised in the birth of the Christ child. A promise of what love can become if we let it grow and nurture in our hearts and lives. For every new life is the gift of promise and possibility. A gift of possibility that can be reborn in each of our lives if we allow it to be.

The season of Advent invites us to embrace the spiritual discipline of waiting. We cannot rush through this season, we must experience it all, before the moment of magic. We must first sing the carols, light the candles and open the doors of the calendars. We must select our gifts for our loved ones and we must prepare ourselves for the year to come. We must experience the whole of this season if we are to give birth to the love that is at the core of it all; if we are to grow this love in the mangers of our own hearts and to give birth to and both experience and share it in our world. A world that needs love and hope as much as at any time in our history.

Advent is a season of preparation and it cannot be rushed. It requires patience. We cannot wish the days away, we cannot wish the winter away. We have to wait patiently, but not passively.

There are times when the light seems dim, like a white tailed deer, but it draws us on in hope and surely this the message of this season, the light of hope is always shinning drawing us on. We must though live in faith and hope, awaiting the birth of pure love, in the mangers of all our hearts.

It is hope that draws us on, it is hope that keeps us going especially in the cold and darkening days. As Seamus Heaney wrote:

“The days are getting shorter and colder, but I ask you to remember: even as the Winter comes in, there is Hope and there is Light." - Seamus Heaney

Advent is about believing in hope, in the possibility of hope, even of at times its light shines dim. Hope is an intimation of the heart to quote Vaclav Havel. If we choose hopelessness over hope it says more about the state of our own hearts and souls, than the state of the world in which we all live.

Advent is about being lured toward that light of hope, it is about turning toward love and life and not turning away. It is about not being seduced by lazy cynicism. This is put beautifully by the wonderful Victoria Safford in an interview with Krista Tippet for “On Being” I have one of her wonderful book of meditations “With or Without Candlelight”. Rev Victoria Safford serves the White Bear Unitarian Universalist Church in Saint Paul, Minnesota, USA. She said:

“Our mission is to plant ourselves at the gates of hope — not the prudent gates of Optimism, which are somewhat narrower; nor the stalwart, boring gates of Common Sense; nor the strident gates of self-righteousness, which creak on shrill and angry hinges; nor the cheerful, flimsy garden gate of “Everything is gonna be all right,” but a very different, sometimes very lonely place, the place of truth-telling, about your own soul first of all and its condition, the place of resistance and defiance, the piece of ground from which you see the world both as it is and as it could be, as it might be, as it will be; the place from which you glimpse not only struggle, but joy in the struggle — and we stand there, beckoning and calling, telling people what we are seeing, asking people what they see.

Of all the virtues, “hope” is one of the most-needed in our time. When people ask me how I stay hopeful in an era of widespread darkness, I answer simply: “Hope keeps me alive and creatively engaged with the world.”

It keeps me alive and fully engaged too. It draws me on and beyond myself to live alive in this world.

Hope is an orientation of the spirit, it is something that holds us and sustains us right here right now. It does more than that though, it draws us on, even if at times its light seems dim, a bit like those white tailed deer.

Advent is a time for waiting, for preparation, in the Christian tradition it is for the coming of the Christ child, the birth of hope. For me I see this in the birth of all life and by this I don’t just me physical life. Any hope that is born in manger of all our hearts. That love can incarnate in all our hearts, if we live in and by hope.

Advent invites us to cradle our hopes like a new born child, to truly wonder what love might look like if we were truly give birth to it and what it might truly mean to live life faithfully despite our very real troubles.

Advent is about waiting, but not doing so passively. The spiritual life is not a passive one, but it does require patience. It is about preparing for hope that may not yet be born, but it must be prepared for. Advent encourages us to be present and fully alive to this time of waiting. The time is now and the moment of magic is coming. So, we wait by being fully present to all that is alive around us, drawn on in and through hope, an orientation of the heart and the spirit.

For soon comes the moment of magic, the birth of hope, in the mangers of all our hearts.

Earlier I made reference to Vaclav Havel and his view that “Hope is an orientation of the spirit.” Havel was a writer and stateman and the first president of the Czech Republic following the end of Communism. He knew a lot about living by and through hope.

Here’s the wonderful poem of his on “Hope”. It seems appropriate to end with as we head toward that moment of magic, drawn on by hope.

“Hope” by Vaclav Havel

Hope is a state of mind, not a state of the world
Either we have hope within us or we don’t.
Hope is not a prognostication—it’s an orientation of the spirit.
You can’t delegate that to anyone else.

Hope in this deep and powerful sense is not the same as joy
when things are going well,
or the willingness to invest in enterprises
that are obviously headed for early success,
but rather an ability to work for something to succeed.

Hope is definitely NOT the same as optimism.
It’s not the conviction that something will turn out well,
but the certainty that something makes sense,
regardless of how it turns out.

It is hope, above all, that gives us strength to live
and to continually try new things,
even in conditions that seem as hopeless as ours do, here and now.
In the face of this absurdity, life is too precious a thing
to permit its devaluation by living pointlessly, emptily,
without meaning, without love, and, finally, without hope.

Below is 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"

All is Well: Belum, Not Quite Yet?

I am afraid of nearly everything:
of darkness, hunger, war, children mutilated.
But most of all, I am afraid of what I might become:
reconciled to injustice,
resigned to fear and despair,
lulled into a life of apathy.

Unchain my hope,
make me strong.
Stretch me towards the impossible,
that I may work for what ought to be:
the hungry fed,
the enslaved free,
the suffering comforted,
the peace accomplished.

So may it be. Amen.

Words by that famous author “Anonymous”. It goes by the title “A Prayer for Hope.”

A prayer not asking, not petitioning for change to be done for us in some future dream like state, but a prayer asking for the person praying to change. If there is one thing I have learnt through prayer, and I pray a lot. is that prayer doesn’t necessarily change things, prayer changes people and people change things. Prayer is not an abdication of responsibility but an acceptance of responsibility in this life, right now. I know that prayer helps to plant those seeds of Hope deep within me to create within me the sense that all is well, not perfect, but well…You might find this hard to believe, but I do believe that all is well…

Theae last few weeks, as part of our annual Lent Breakfast series, the Churches Together in Urmston have been exploring the theme “Hope Now”, not some dreamed of Hope in the future but “Hope, right here, right now”. It’s been a fascinating few weeks. I took my turn to lead and enjoyed sharing in a fruitful conversation. It was wonderful to hear the different versions of people you would find everywhere in the world, the pessimists and the optimist, the cynics and the idealists, the ones who view humanity as basically fallen, but capable of ok things and those who see humanity as basically good, but who fall short from time to time and of course those who see life as suffering with occasional glimpses of heaven and those who see life as a blessing, a gift, in which suffering occurs. How do you see these things? It matters you know, it really does.

Now Hope, certainly for the future, is an easily criticised concept as it sounds like an abdication of responsibility. Hope for me though is not about that at all. Hope, as I experience it, is a way of being. We live in Hope, I would say that we live through and by hope or we don’t. It is not the same as optimism and it is not living in the expectation of something perfect beyond this life, or at least it isn’t for me. It’s actually a quality of our broken and vulnerable hearts. Hope is something that we give birth to, a quality we nurture and allow to grow through our vulnerable human being.

As Vaclav Havel wrote:

“Hope is an orientation of the spirit, an orientation of the heart.
It is not the conviction that something will turn out well,
but the certainty that something makes sense,
regardless of how it turns out.”

So often, from the most grotesque ruins of life, the most beautiful things have grown. I have been thinking of this a lot, as I have observed hope in action and cries of never again come from thousands of young people across the Atlantic following another dreadful school mass killing. Now the cynics have cried there is no point, we’ve tried this before the gun lobby will always win out, but the young people have said “no”! “We can change things”! And they have seemingly set something in motion. It has inspired me I can assure you. I’ve been deeply touched as I have bared witness to this in recent weeks.

It brought to mind the following little gem of wisdom I shared at last week’s Lent Breakfast. It is taken from “Dwellings. A Spiritual History of the Living World” by Linda Hogan,

"Seed. There are so many beginnings. In Japan, I recall, there were wildflowers that grew in the far, cool region of mountains. The bricks of Hiroshima, down below, were formed of clay from these mountains, and so the walls of houses and shops held the dormant trumpet flower seeds. But after one group of humans killed another with the explosive power of life’s smallest elements split wide apart, the mountain flowers began to grow. Out of destruction and bomb heat and the falling of walls, the seeds opened up and grew. What a horrible beauty, the world going its own way, growing without us. But perhaps this, too, speaks of survival, of hope beyond our time."

Yes there may be Hope beyond our time, but the seed must be planted now. The Hope has to be there growing in our hearts and souls or we won’t plant those seeds. It does not mean there is not horror and destruction in our lives now, but nor does that horror in the present moment stop us seeing that there is goodness in our time and place.

We need to live in and through hope, we need to be hope, we need to say yes to life. Just because there are problems and suffering in life it does not mean we should turn away from life and lose all hope, make despair the orientation of our heart. What kills us is cynicism, giving up on the possibility of what we can make things in life.

This brings to life a quotation from Stephen Colbert a rather wonderful late night American television host, who suffers great despair at the state of his country at times, but lives in and through Hope, it is an orientation of his heart and spirit. He said:

“Remember, you cannot be both young and wise. Young people who pretend to be wise to the ways of the world are mostly just cynics. Cynicism masquerades as wisdom, but it is the farthest thing from it. Because cynics don't learn anything. Because cynicism is a self-imposed blindness, a rejection of the world because we are afraid it will hurt us or disappoint us. Cynics always say "no". But saying "yes" begins things. Saying "yes" is how things grow. Saying "yes" leads to knowledge. "Yes" is for young people. So for as long as you have the strength to, say "yes".”

So I say yes to life, to possibility, to the Hope in my heart. That Hope though is now, that hope is present, not some other place somewhere over the rainbow. So I keep on planting seeds, despite those who tell me there is no point. For hope is, as Elizabeth Barrette says in “Origami Emotion”

“Origami Emotion” by Elizabeth Barrette

Hope is
Folding paper cranes
Even when your hands get cramped
And your eyes tired,
Working past blisters and paper cuts,
Simply because something in you
Insists on
Opening its wings.

Life is not perfect, there is suffering in all parts of life, but it is not life itself. We do not live in a state of despair, well at least not yet.

This brings to mind a winderful little piece of wisdom titled "Belum" by Robeert Fulghum

“Belum” by Robert Fulghum

"Americans, it is observed, prefer definite answers. Let your yea be yea and your nay be nay. Yes or no. No grays, please.

In Indonesia, there is a word in common use that nicely wires around the need for black and white. Belum is the word and it means ‘not quite yet.’ A lovely word implying continuing possibility. “Do you speak English?”

“Belum.” Not quite yet. “Do you have any children?” “Belum.” Do you know the meaning of life?” “Belum.”

It is considered both impolite and cynical to say, “No!” outright. This leads to some funny moments. “Is the house on fire?” “Belum.” Not quite yet.

It’s an attitude kin to that old vaudeville joke: “Do you play the violin?” “I don’t know, I never tried.”

Perhaps. Maybe. Possibly. Not yes or no, but squarely within the realm of what might be. Soft edges are welcome in this great bus ride of human adventure.

Is this the best of all possible worlds? Belum.

Is the world coming to an end? Belum.

Will we live happily ever after? Belum.

Have we learned to live without weapons of mass destruction? Belum.

In some ways, we don’t know. We’ve never tried. Is it hopeless to think that we might someday try? Belum. Not quite yet."

I love this concept of "Belum" of  uncertainty, but a faithful uncertainty, that nothing is ever fully sealed, not yet at least. However hopeless things may feel at the present moment it does not mean that all is despair. Look around you, look into your own heart. There is love and goodness present both within you and in life. There are those around you that can bring inspiration to your being, who have the courage to say yes to life, that have hope lightening and inspiring their hearts.

All is well. Yes it doesn’t always feel like it, but it is. For an awful long time I used to say “all will be well”, don’t lose faith in life. In recent weeks I have changed my mind. Well actually my heart and soul have changed my mind. Minds are made for changing by the way. We should never, ever be ruled by our minds. I no longer believe that “all will be well”, to quote Julian of Norwich. Why you may well ask? Well because it sounds like an abdication and abandonment of this life. Such belief is of no use to me, is disrespectful as it rejects what I’m experiencing right here right now. It’s also a rejection of reality.

My truth, as I type these words right here , right now, is that all is well. Life is rich in meaning. It is not devoid of suffering and trouble, but it is well. There is love, there is goodness and it is my task, I believe, to share that with those all around me. It is the orientation of my heart and soul. It is Hope.

Living this way is not about perfection, it is not about completeness it is about planting seeds from our hearts and souls and living in the Belum, the not quite yets of life. To repeat those words of Robert Fulghum

“Is this the best of all possible worlds? Belum.

Is the world coming to an end? Belum.

Will we live happily ever after? Belum.

Have we learned to live without weapons of mass destruction? Belum.

In some ways, we don’t know. We’ve never tried. Is it hopeless to think that we might someday try? Belum. Not quite yet."

So what are you going to do? Are you going to try, give it a go, plant those seeds in your heart and souls right here right now in this new spring or be cynical and claim the wisdom of fear and say we’ve tried this before it won’t work, what’s the point? People will never change. There is no Hope. Or are you going to join with me and believe in your heart that all is well, not perfect, but well. That there is goodness in the world and goodness in my heart and that this goodness can once again grow in the world if I would just let the courage work through me and rise once again.

It’s up to us right here right now. Hope is not something we passively dream of in the future, something beyond this life. It has to be born here right now, an orientation of our heart and souls or not at all.

All is well, have the courage to allow the seeds of Hope to form in your hearts and souls, let it become the orientation of your very being. Let’s not give up on our belief in love and life, well at least not quite yet, Belum.

Hope & Enthusiasm: A 200th Anniversary Celebration

Today we marked 200 years of our free religious tradition here in the town of Altrincham. 200 years ago they formed this fellowship of love and service in the town and they have continued sailing in it for many generations. They did so in hope and with genuine enthusiasm. 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…I believe that this free religious tradition that I serve 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.

Today we celebrate the 200th anniversary of the Unitarian congregation in Altrincham.

We who live today 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…Everything matters you know, every breath, every feeling, every thought, every deed impacts in some way on the chain of life…Everything matters…

The 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. Our 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…

Here we stand on 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 of us, 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 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.

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…

Trees and bushes have been speaking to me all this year, as have the beautiful flowers that grow from them. It really began at the end of last year, at a time of loss and pain in my own life and those I hold most dear. My sister, our Mand, told me of a single rose she had seen right in the midst of winter, both physical winter and a personal winter too. This rose lifted her spirit and as she told me of it, it lifted me too. That winter rose brought hope that love will survive any of the biting frost that can threaten our lives. This year I’ve been seeing roses everywhere, the most beautiful I have ever seen…They have become a symbol of hope to me…“And I’ll bring you hope, when hope is hard to find and I’ll bring a song of love and a rose in the winter time.”

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 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.”

I see symbols of hope every day and I am certainly ready to help bring them to birth. I see them on the side of the road as I drive. Just like "The Tree of Lost Soles" I saw one day travelling to Warrington. A beautiful symbol made from the stump of an old tree and old discarded shoes. A symbol that has stayed with me this year as I see folk coming to life in my midst. All souls can indeed be found and can begin life again. I’ve seen it in the eyes of so many this year. So I live in hope. Why? Because even in the midst of winter a rose can grow and bring hope to all our lives.

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”?

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 our souls, our hearts and our minds and then bring it to life. 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 let hope become an orientation of our spirit and to bless our world with this enthusiasm. And do you know what if we do our world will become overflowing with roses, even in the depths of winter time.

I’m going to end today with a little story, entitled “Building a Cathedral” (Taken from "Concentration and Compassion" by Bill Darlison)

When the great Cathedral of Chatres was being built in the 13th century, a traveller happened to be passing by the construction site. He was amazed at the number of workers involved in the project and the variety of jobs being done. He approached a carpenter and asked, “What exactly are you doing here?”

“I’m sawing wood, what on earth does it look like I’m doing?” came the curt reply.

The traveller then approached a stonemason and asked him the very same question, to which he replied,

“I’m earning a living, I’ve got a wife and children to support.”

However, a third man, an unskilled worker who looked to be sweeping up after the others, said with a beaming smile, “Can’t you see? I’m building a cathedral!”

So I say to you let’s go build Cathedrals in our own hearts, let’s take them out into our world and make every inch of this world holy ground once more…Let us consecrate, let us bless everything and everyone we touch...Everything matters you know, every breath, every feeling, every thought, every deed impacts in some way on the chain of life…Everything matters…

“Cos I’ll bring you hope, when hope is hard to find and I’ll bring a song of love and a rose in the winter time,”

Seasonal Inspiration Part 3

This is the third blogspot sharing pieces I have come across and been inspired by this season...I hope they speak to you too...

The first two pieces are on "Hope"...both claim it is not the same as optimism...Hope is not some projection into the future but more "an orientation of the heart"...both inspired my Advent mantra "It is better to light one candle than curse the darkness"...The idea that we bring light, from the candles of our own souls into the dark places of our world rather than cursing all that is wrong...Do what you can, with all that you have in the place that you are, as often as you can...bring a little light to the world...

“Hope” by Vaclav Havel

Hope is a state of mind, not a state of the world
Either we have hope within us or we don’t.
Hope is not a prognostication—it’s an orientation of the spirit.
You can’t delegate that to anyone else.

Hope in this deep and powerful sense is not the same as joy
when things are going well,
or the willingness to invest in enterprises
that are obviously headed for early success,
but rather an ability to work for something to succeed.

Hope is definitely NOT the same as optimism.
It’s not the conviction that something will turn out well,
but the certainty that something makes sense,
regardless of how it turns out.

It is hope, above all, that gives us strength to live
and to continually try new things,
even in conditions that seem as hopeless as ours do, here and now.
In the face of this absurdity, life is too precious a thing
to permit its devaluation by living pointlessly, emptily,
without meaning, without love, and, finally, without hope.



"HOPE, NOT OPTIMISM" from Taking Pictures of God
by Bruce T. Marshall

A friend whose wife is undergoing treatment for a serious illness told me that their physician advised them to approach it with hope, not optimism. My friend found this guidance helpful, and it makes sense to me.

Optimism, as I understand it, is an attitude of expectation that a particular result will occur—that a person will recover from an illness, that we will achieve a specific goal, that the Publishers Clearing House will pick my number from among the billions submitted. The dictionary defines optimism as “an inclination to anticipate the best possible outcome.”

Hope is less specific. It’s an attitude that looks for possibility in whatever life deals us. Hope does not anticipate a particular outcome, but keeps before us the possibility that something useful will come from this.

We are told that an optimistic outlook is a good thing, but I’ve rarely found it so. Optimism often leads to disappointment. When the best possible outcome doesn’t occur, we are let down, may even feel betrayed. Optimism may then become its opposite—pessimism, an inclination to anticipate the worst possible outcome.

Hope is more resilient, more enduring, more helpful. In a serious illness, for example, there are often setbacks. In the face of these, optimism may wear down. But hope encourages us to move forward despite the setbacks.

As we pursue our goals in life, optimism may lead us to expectations that are unrealistic and ultimately hurtful. Hope advises us to look squarely at the realities that confront us while remaining aware of the possibilities.

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.”

It is helpful guidance, I think, whether we are faced with a serious illness, a personal dilemma, or a society that seems determined to destroy itself—not optimism that a particular result will occur, but hope to “see and cherish signs of new life” wherever these may occur.

I love the next two pieces as they speak of the transformative "magic" that the season can inspire in our lives...It is easy to miss this as we get lost in what the stories are trying to teach us. We argue about events and impossibility of them instead of losing ourselves in the story in the universal mythos...They teach a universal truth that speak to us...past, present and future...What does humanity need "Glad tidings of comfort and joy" or "Glad tidings of reason and fact"?


“In this season of growing darkness” by Rick Kelley

In this season of growing darkness, as days shorten, as cold and encircling gloom deepen, let us turn to the inward light of the human community to be warmed by the world of legend and fancy.

Let us turn to the stories of miraculous births that remind us of the wonder and beauty of another human life.

Let us turn to the fanciful figures of jolly elves dressed in red who remind us of the generosity and loving care nestled within the human heart.

Let us, most of all, turn to the tales of brave and courageous men and women who stood up for what they believed, and who tell us once again of the indomitable spirit residing within humanity.

In so doing,

May we, too, become bearers of light amidst surrounding darkness...

May we reach out to others with generosity and loving care, showing them the ‘larger’ side of ourselves...

May we reveal to those closest to us some of the wonder and beauty of our existence...

And may we find within ourselves, together, the courage and determination to be with that which we believe, the freedom to become which we would become.


“And Stars Twinkle in the night air” by Richard S Gilbert

And the stars, twinkling in the night air,

Become beacons leading to a babe in a manger, or a cave,

Or other humble place, in east or west,

A child in whom the human race was born anew.

And simple shepherds, so close to the earth,

Become heroes in a great miracle play,

Finding the new born babe before the great kings of the East.

And angels, those celestial non-creatures, made heavenly music,

To stir the heart for centuries.

(Oh we know it didn’t happen that way

But one must admit, it is very poetic.)

Only a myth, you say?

Of course only a myth,

The stuff of which dreams are made.

The fabrications of which joys are made.


Only a myth.

Yet those myths link us with those we never knew,

And will link us with those we will never know.

They will speak a poetry irresistible.

For we are sustained not by bread alone,

Or by reason,

Or by fact,

Or by the daily hum drum,

So much as we are by the poetry of human imagination,

Which paints pictures where before there were only colours,

Which forms songs where before there were only sounds,

Which writes stories where before there were only words.



Someone needs to be our story teller,

For human life is more than a bleak passage

Between the portals of life and death.

It is a story, a myth

It is the myth of Jesus, or the Buddha or Confucius.

Heroes of the race.

Or is it the story of a life,

Yours or mine, a story with a beginning and ending

And all that goes between of despair and hope.


The following is a meditation based on the "Mythos" "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer"...I recently told a version of it during worship and then when I finished I asked the congregation to sing. Everyone joined in and what was so beautiful is that they all knew it by heart...When we learn something by heart it becomes deeply engrained within is us...Thus revealing something of the magic of this this season...


Meditation on Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer by Edward Harris

What can we say about Rudolph?

He was excluded by other reindeer. They did not let him play with them. We may feel confident that they made fun of him and his red nose.

It is possible that they hurt poor Rudolph. He was on the outside. The other reindeer had a special relationship with Santa Claus. They were the elite: Dancer, Dasher, Prancer, Comet, Blitzen, fine names, sturdy names, bespeaking solidarity, stability, education, training, ability, access to the very best. These reindeer were strong and fast.

Rudolph was smaller and his only distinctive feature was a shiny red nose. It seemed to have a glow about it. It made the young Rudolph a figure of fun. "See Rudolph the Red-nosed. Ha! Ha! I'd rather be dead than red in the nose,” they'd say.

Still he may have been content to be red-nosed by himself. He probably muttered more than once, "I don't care. Let them have all of the fun. I can have fun by myself."

Did Rudolph wish to be included? We don't know? Probably he did, for it is the deepest wish of all creatures to belong and be accepted.

So what happened?

On a foggy Christmas Eve, Santa realized Rudolph could make the difference in guiding the sleigh. Rudolph could lead them through. Rudolph's special trait was his ugly, shiny, red nose. It was this nose, this trait that was needed.

So Santa goes to little Rudolph and asks him to guide the sleigh. Actually to lead it. He would be in front of the other reindeer. Because their mission of getting Christmas to the boys and girls of the world was so important, it became necessary to rethink past practices.

When Rudolph was asked, what did he say? We don't know; it's not recorded. We know he did not say: "I can't. I'm too little." He didn't say, "Me? The others always make fun of me." He didn't say, "Now you ask me, I've got something else to do. It isn't fair."

He didn't say spitefully, "Get somebody else. Let Dancer do it." He didn't say, "I hope you crash, you and all the others."

So we have a classic story of the insiders excluding the newcomer and making fun of his special traits. It happens all of the time in schools, play grounds, classes, society.

We say: "They just don't have it. And if they do, well we got here first and don't have to let them in our group, our company, our church, our club, our political party, our games."

He just did it. He led the sleigh through. He did the job. It was a hard job but he did it. Then all the reindeer loved him.

What does the little story, the bit of doggerel mean? What is its moral?

Some possible meanings: Anybody can serve; we need everyone to be part of the team; even the ugliest (or what we label ugly) and smallest has a special contribution to make; the mission is more important than personalities.

There are perhaps others. (Can you think of some?) Remember them when you hear the song.

For me Christmas and the way we celebrate it is the perfect universal festival. It speaks to all people, past, present and future. It has developed from a variety of traditions, religious and secular. There are many who would love to see the back of it, from both religious and secular perspectives. There always has been. These voices will never win, as the spirit of Christmas will always win...One light will always defeat the darkness...The following two pieces express these sentiments...

“Christmas” by Charles Stephen

Oliver Cromwell once ordered the heathen celebration of Christmas ended; the new England Puritans objected to the celebration as well and in 1659 passed a law setting a fine on anyone “found observing any such day as Christmas...whether by forbearing labour, feasting, or any other way...”

But Christmas survives all efforts to subdue it. Cromwell and the New England puritans were right of course, about the “heathen,” pre-Christian origins of Christmas. But they were wrong in trying to disavow it because of those origins. Its beginnings make it more universal, and those of us who have a touch of the heathen upon us can find good meanings in the season.

Scrooge, after all, was converted and promised, “I will honour Christmas in my heart and try to keep it all the year.” So can we, whatever our theological beliefs, for Christmas is so much more than theology, so much more than the Bethlehem legends.

It is as ancient as the awareness of the winter solstice; and as contemporary as the inner need each of us has to hope and dedicate ourselves to peace upon the earth and within the hearts of men and women everywhere. It is as deeply rooted as human loving and sharing and giving, and it is as new as the birth of our children and the birth of wonder and birth of new ideas and new love.

“Christmas” by E. Burdette Backus

Christmas is the time when the idealism of the human heart comes to the fore. It is the reassuring revelation of those qualities in human nature in which our chief hope lies. There is much, oh so much, that is wrong with the world, that mocks the sound of the Christmas bells; but as long as our hearts respond to the song of “peace on earth, goodwill to all,” as long as we have the grace to act on the injunction that it “is more blessed to give than to receive,” as long as we sincerely feel that the great ends of life are served in causes that transcend their petty personal interests, there is hope that we shall redeem ourselves from our woe