It is important for awake people to be awake

I was away last weekend in the beautiful city of Edinburgh. Edinburgh is one of those places that is a delight to simply walk around in. I spent several hours on Saturday morning doing so. It was wonderful. I went to few places of importances and paid homage to the great and good of the city, marked by the statues and the monuments. To me they help to sanctify the city, give it a sense of the sacred. Edinburgh has a timeless quality to it, with a skyline dominated by the castle built on that ancient rock.

As I wandered round there was nowhere that you could not see the castle on the rock, for whatever reason it kept on bringing the first verse of Psalm 121 to my heart and mind “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help”. I felt a gentle strengthening as I walked around the city with one or two concerns on my mind.

As I said I love the monuments of the city. My favourites though are the more quirky ones. Some tell ordinary tales, of local inhabitants that graced the city and others told great tales. I of course went to find Greyfriars Bobby, to pay homage and of course to touch his nose. I received his blessing. As I am sure you know a dog blesses with their nose. I also discovered another statue of another dog, one that became the mascot of San Diego, This dog was named “Bum”, he arrived as a kind of refugee, a stow-away. The locals fell in love with him and they cared for him. The people of San Diego donated a statue of “Bum” to Edinburgh, thus creating a bond between the two very different cities and their beloved dogs. Both dogs’ noses are worn from all the blessing. I thought of Molly and how she blesses so many folk in the communities we live in. I wonder if they might build a monument to her one day.

There are many monuments to those lost in war and conflict, you see throughout Edinburgh, in particularly in Princess Street gardens. As I wandered through gardens I paused and reflected many times. I thought of many folk we have lost in our communities and folk I have lost personally. I thought of Derek and his family as his life is coming to an end. Sadly Derek died this week, surrounded by his loving family. He is a huge loss to the community and to me personally. He has been a good friend and rock actually.

I saw a statue I hadn’t seen before of a giant toy elephant. It is named “Never Forget”. It has been placed in the gardens in memory of the “Morton Hill Baby scandal”. It marks a something terrible, not only the loss of babies lives, but also that their ashes were never given to their parents. It si said that the elephant never forgets and this statue symbolises the fact that these parents will never forget the loss of their babies.

All these statues and many others, especially in Princess Street gardens, sanctify the city of Edinburgh and the people who both live and visit there. They speak of the city and those who inhabited it through the centuries, marking the past, touching the present and pointing towards the future. I felt blessed as I walked around the city that Saturday morning, connecting with its heart and soul. I then made my way towards St Mark’s Unitarian Church and Janine’s induction service.

It was a beautiful and moving service, as folk gathered together, to mark this important day in Janine’s life and the life Edinburgh Unitarians. So many people from Janine’s life were gathered and the story of her journey into ministry shared and all those that had been involved in her journey were present. It was a true blessing and a blessing to be a part of. It was all accompanied by the most beautiful music played by Ailsa Aitkenhead. There were several moving moments of ritual that we engaged in throughout the service or was it a ceremony. I felt deeply blessed by it all. I then enjoyed a wonderful evening of folk catching up with things. The next day I returned to St Mark’s to enjoy Sunday morning worship. It was wonderful to be led in worship by Kyle Mc Donald, inspired by the journey of Robert Falcon Scott and his party to the Antarctica, an ill fated journey, but one of honour, inspired by the same spirit I felt blessed by all through the weekend in Edinburgh. A spirt that can come alive in each of us and bless us all. We don’t need to touch one another’s noses to receive the blessing, but it is there all the same. By the way Kyle has just been accepted for ministry training. It felt like a blessing to see him lead worship having this just been announced.

My weekend in Edinburgh was one of blessing, worship and ritual of so many kinds. I felt the spirt alive and present throughout it all.

The previous Sunday I had been invited to attend a dear friends Baptism at “The Audacious” Church in central Manchester. This was a very different occasion to the one I had experienced in Edinburgh. I was deeply moved witnessing my friend pass through a threshhold of her own. She has been on quite a journey herself. A journey that had some of its beginnings during a Christmas Eve service at Dunham Road. Now while the worship in the service at the “Audacious Church” did not touch me so much, it did touch many of the hundreds present. What did touch me though was witnessing my friend pass through a threshold of her own and continue on her journey to who knows where. As I looked at her face during this ceremony I saw that same spirit I experienced at St Mark’s and as I wandered around Edinburgh, as I was blessed by the beautiful city. It was a blessing to gaze upon her face and to think of the journey she has been on.

We are always at the threshold of something, the end of one moment moving into another. People say live in the moment, well I have discovered that the moment is not some static thing that you can live within, the moment is liminal in nature, it is the space between the past and the future. You cannot really live in the moment. Maybe it is more accurate to say that the moment lives in and through you. Each moment can be a blessing in itself, can be deeply sacred in and of itself. The key is how we live within each and every one. You may be sanctified by it, if you live by and through blessing.

This bring to mind a rather wonderful poem, “A Ritual to Read to Each Other” by William Stafford. I will share it with you.

“A Ritual to Read to Each Other” by William Stafford

If you don't know the kind of person I am
and I don't know the kind of person you are
a pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.

For there is many a small betrayal in the mind,
a shrug that lets the fragile sequence break
sending with shouts the horrible errors of childhood
storming out to play through the broken dike.

And as elephants parade holding each elephant's tail,
but if one wanders the circus won't find the park,
I call it cruel and maybe the root of all cruelty
to know what occurs but not recognize the fact.

And so I appeal to a voice, to something shadowy,
a remote important region in all who talk:
though we could fool each other, we should consider—
lest the parade of our mutual life get lost in the dark.

For it is important that awake people be awake,
or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;
the signals we give — yes or no, or maybe —
should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.

It is the line “For it is important that awake people be awake, or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep” that speaks powerfully and intensely to me. It is not merely that we need to keep ourselves awake, but that we need to remind one another who and what we truly are in order that we remain awake and do not go back to sleep. We have to bring to life what has awakened within each and everyone of us and share that with each other so as to remind one another of the importance of staying awake, or we will go back to sleep. Again something I experienced in Edinburgh last weekend. I felt once again awakened by the spirit and was reminded how vital it is that we remain awake.

The key is to remember and to bring the memory alive in this moment we find ourselves in right here and now. To communicate what we have learnt and to listen to what has awoken within each other. I felt this powerfully as I shared in Janine’s induction service and as I looked upon the face of my friend during her Baptism. I thought of all that had brought them to these moments of transition and wondered where they might lead. They may not build monuments to them, but they will touch many lives and bless folk with their presence, of this I am certain.

As I witnessed Janine’s induction, as I saw her step over the threshold into her life as a minister, I felt those words by William Stafford deep in my heart. As I did I felt a recommitment to ministry deep within me and thought to myself, I will attempt to live that ritual and keep on reading it to others and listen to it as they read the ritual to me. I will remember the line.

“For it is important that awake people be awake, or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep”

Over the last few weeks, I’ve been thinking once again about worship. Its purpose and how to create sacred space. Of course, having Peter as a student has brought this to my consciousness. Also being part of the interview panel for ministry as well as “Ministry in the Making” has brought it to my head and heart too. I have also attended several different forms of worship, some has affected my soul, touched me deeply. Other has not in the least, although it did many others who were present. It has all got me thinking deeply about worship and its purpose. I have also been thinking about ritual, how it holds life together and sanctifies it, but also the dangers of becoming a slave to it. There is a place and need for structure as it allows the freedom to explore. There is also the need to cater for different types of people. There is a balance needed between structure and total lassez faire. I know myself I need a mixture of the two, although I know the balance will never be perfect. I also know that you cannot please all of the people all of the time.

This brings to mind a favourite story “The Guru’s Cat”

In India there was a great religious guru who was always surrounded in his Ashram by loyal devotees. For hours a day, the guru and his followers would meditate on God. The only problem was that the guru had a young cat, an annoying creature, who used to walk through the temple meowing and purring and bothering everyone during meditation. So the guru, in all his practical wisdom, commanded that the cat be tied to a pole outside for a few hours a day, only during meditation, so as to not disturb anyone. This became a habit – tying the cat to the pole and then meditating on God – but as years passed, the habit hardened into religious ritual. Nobody could meditate unless the cat was tied to the pole first. After the guru died, the cat continued to be tied during evening worship.

Then one day the cat died. The guru’s followers were panic-stricken. It was a major religious crisis – how could they meditate now, without a cat to tie to a pole? How would they reach God? In their minds, the cat had become the means.

Centuries later, learned treatises were written by the guru’s scholarly disciples on the liturgical significance of tying up a cat while worship is performed.

Ritual in worship helps to touch the spirit. That said there is a real danger in becoming too enslaved to ritual. Sometimes it becomes all about the ritual and the spirit dies. Surely the purpose of such activities is to feed the spirit and not just follow some pattern, just like the story of “Guru’s Cat”. We are here to touch and awaken the spirit, to keep feeding it and thus to keep the spirit awake.

Sometimes we become so tied to things that we forget the purpose of why we are doing what we are doing. So yes, I have been thinking once again about the purpose of worship, particularly in the context of a free religious tradition, one that should never be a slave to anything. I have also been thinking about the purpose of spirituality and the spiritual life. I have been thinking how we enliven and awaken the spirit in each of us, about balance, and how worship may feed the soul; thinking of ways to live the spiritual life, to live spiritually alive.

How do we define spirituality and the spiritual life? What is its purpose? I have heard many explanations over the years. The best one came from Rev Bill Darlison, he said “that the purpose of the spiritual life, is to increase our sensitivity to life.” I believe that the purpose of spirituality is to aid us to become more affected by life and thus become more effective in life. It is not to rise beyond life, to escape from life, but to enable us to engage fully with reality. I know that the more engaged I am in such practices the more engaged I am in life. That said I also need such practices to recharge my spiritual batteries and thus return back to life and increase the affect and become more effective. The spiritual life is not so much about transcendence but transformation. It is not about escaping life, but to be changed by it and thus be a force for good within it.

The realm of the spirit and the realm of the material are not separate, they both feed and are fed by each other.

There is something very powerful about coming together in love; there is something very powerful in opening ourselves up to one another and recognise what connects us what makes us wholly human. Worshipping together is one way to do so, but it can happen in all aspects of life. It can occur in deep encounters with others, when love and attention is paid. It can happen by simply walking around wherever you may find yourself if your spirit is open to it.

The communities I serve gather together seeking something, as we engage in the ritual of worship. We come for a reason, even if where not wholly sure what that reason is. In the worship we share I attempt to create through words, music, silence, imagery and more, a sacred time and space that will enable us to open our hearts and help us connect to the Greater mysteries of life, to the Web of being, to know the spirit of life and love, to experience God and for this to impact on how we live our day to day lives.

In this sacred space at the sacred time where generations have worshipped we open our hearts to the greater mysteries of life. In so doing we begin to connect to the greater realities and mysteries of existence. It is this time that can help us to open up the lives we find ourselves in and to pay attention to the life around us and to touch the people we meet in our daily living. In so doing we make all life sacred, by blessing it with our presence.

My hope is that when we leave the space that we are touched in those deeper aspects of our humanity and that when we leave the space that we begin to bless the world with our sacred humanity by recognising the sacredness of each person that we meet and that we bless life with our loving presence.

Or as William Stafford put it, “For it is important that awake people be awake, or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep”

May our souls, our spirits, our simple human being be awake.

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

The Lost and Found Come Knocking at the Door, Looking for a Better Way

There are many varied people that knock on my door. They do so for all kinds of reasons. There have been several this week. People usually do so unannounced. Some seem to have lost something and others appear to have found something.

Last Sunday, after saying goodbye’s to folk after the service, I noticed a water bottle and phone on a seat at the back of chapel. Well actually it was Nigel who spotted it. I quickly realised it belonged to Joe, a young man who is a regular attender. I knew why he had too, we had been speaking for a few days as he had been preparing the eulogy for his grandmother’s funeral. I knew I couldn’t contact him so I took the items home and looked after them. A couple of hours later there was a knock on my door and there was Joe. He had realised what he had done. It took him some time I guess as he is not one of those people who is not constantly on his phone.

We talked for a while about grief and how the mind can be like Swiss Cheese at such times. Memory of simple things goes out of the window. You feel utterly lost and lose things constantly. I remember once leaving my wallet in the post office. Glasses in Tesco’s and another time after taking the service at Styal I realised I couldn’t find my car keys. I search around, but no sign, I retraced by steps from the chapel all the way back up the pathway to the main road, all the while cursing myself for my stupidity. When I got to my car I approached the door to find them there in the door. I had at least locked the door but for some reason, but I did not take them out of the door. I shared one or two other occasions too, like the time I thought I’d lost my car. I hadn’t I’d just parked it elsewhere. There are many occasions when I thought I had lost my mind. It has always been in times of grief. It is very common. So many people share similar experiences when grieving. We feel lost and do not know, to some degree, who we are. Life is unfamiliar, so of course we feel a little lost. Afterwards life is never quite the same again.

A friend told me this morning that she had lost the keys to her house. She had to got to her brother’s to get a spare set before returning home. When she arrived her home there were her keys in the front door. It happens to us all I reckon.

What I have found is that the key to getting through times of grief and loss is to keep on turning faithfully to life. To not hide away for too long, to not fully hibernate. To take care of the basics and to lean on to the folk around you and of course to your God, however you understand that. That which sustains you in the storm of life. In time you will come through this time of loss and feeling lost and come to a new world. Greater meaning and understanding often comes as we walk faithfully through the valley of the shadow of death. Life changes you, but so does loss. It has changed me, throughout my life. Living spiritually alive is not about transcendence, it is about transformation, formation, reformation. The key is to keep a little faith and to keep on turning. It is also vital to remember that we do not journey alone, even though grief can make you feel this way at times. We all get caught up in the storms of life. This is why it is so vital to remember that we do not sail this ship alone, we travel in this ship of love together.

Humour helps too. Sometimes you just have to laugh at your humanity and absurdity. I was reminded this week of some advice I once heard about losing your mind and car. “Do not worry if you lose your car, that isn’t the problem. You are in trouble only when you forget that you have a car.”

There was a lovely moment on Wednesday as I was writing the address this is based on, just before these exact words actually. It was a beautiful reminder of how lovely people can be. There was another knock on my door. It was one of my neighbours Lucy, her daughter has a dog called Molly also and I know them well from Café Nero and just out and about. I had walked into Altrincham with her earlier as she was on her way to a charity shop with a few things. She told me she was concerned that they wouldn’t take them as four had refused her last week. They said they weren’t taking any more things. She is a person with a deep social conscience. She was concerned about distributing unwanted things to those who need them. Anyhow an hour or so later she knocked on my door to tell me that they were taking things and that there is a distribution system in place. I was so deeply touched that she remembered the conversation we had and that she needed to tell me that things were ok. How vital it is in life to remember just how ruddy lovely folk can be. This is something that is so vital in life. It is in mine. I had also that morning had another conversation with a very lost soul who likes to give Molly biscuits. She was so caught up worry about the world. She spends most of her day wandering around lost and struggling to get through the day. We talk most days. I know it lifts her spirits just a little bit to give Molly those biscuits. It is so important to remember these things; how much we all need such things.

I received an email from a person anonymously they had lost something dear to her, vital to their well being. It read:

“Hi there,
I lost my navy bunny soft toy yesterday morning in Stamford square and I’m desperately trying to find her. I really need her back. Would you be able to keep an eye out for her or be able to put up her missing poster somewhere? Thank you ever so much.”

I obviously am not naming the person. This little toy may seem like nothing to most people, but it gives the person support with their social anxiety. I hope that they find what they have lost.

I have felt lost in grief at times these last 18 months. I don’t just mean at the loss of so many folk I know, so many friends as well as congregants. So many folk I have known and love. Also, a sense of loss and bewilderment at the world. We do seem to be living through divisive times. We forget we are all far more human than otherwise, that we are formed from the same flesh and have the same spirit in us.

This is something that no matter what happens in life we must never forget. Our lives, humanity, depends upon it. If we lose that, then we truly are lost.

Memory is a mysterious thing. Memory loss is a serious thing too. Our minds are affected by many things that can interfere with some basic brain functions. There are of course the many and varied forms of dementia which we are seeing and understanding more and more. I see it in folks I know, and I see the affects it has on those who care for folk becoming lost in such worlds.

I sometimes wonder about my own memory too, especially around traumatic times in my life. I was reminded of a peculiar memory recently. My brother’s eldest son Theo has recently begun University They broke their foot trampolining and were obviously struggling. There were some jokes on a family Wattsapp about how lucky they were that my former stepdad wasn’t there as he would have wiggled it about and told him to stop being soft and get on with it. This had happened to my youngest sister when she broke her arm roller skating. I had lived most of my life with a guilt about this. The way I remembered it was that I was the one that did this to her. I remember a few years ago apologising to her for this. She looked at me like I was a complete idiot, in fact she told me so. Telling me this is not what happened at all. That I had cared for her and it was her dad that did this and that I was there as it happened. I witnessed the act, but did not do it. I still struggle with accepting this reality. My mind does not fully remember this at all. I cannot find the whole truth of the memory. It tells me something about the state of my mind and memory at that time in my life. It also teaches me something about how memory so easily gets lost and that the truth can be hard to find especially in times of emotion, loss and trauma. Something we could all do to remember in these times we are living through.

It is also vital to keep a hold of the truth of beautiful memories of moments of deep care and love and attention too. Of what is good and loving and beautiful. Of every tiny bit of humanity. Our lives, our world depends upon it. I have been thinking of these a lot these last couple of weeks as I celebrated an important anniversary recently. I have been remembering so many people that offered so much love and acceptance in darker days. In days when I was very lost.

Now I know that this might sound counter intuitive, but being lost and feeling lost is not always such a terrible thing, especially if it leads us to look for a better way. I reminded here of a mysterious little poem by William Stafford “Cutting Loose”. Here it is:

“Cutting Loose” by William Stafford

Sometimes from sorrow, for no reason,
you sing. For no reason, you accept
the way of being lost, cutting loose
from all else and electing a world
where you go where you want to.

Arbitrary, a sound comes, a reminder
that a steady center is holding
all else. If you listen, that sound
will tell you where it is and you
can slide your way past trouble.

Certain twisted monsters
always bar the path—but that’s when
you get going best, glad to be lost,
learning how real it is
here on earth, again and again.

As Parker J. Palmer highlights whilst reflecting on this poem. Maybe “the way of being lost” is important, perhaps even necessary at times, if we are to “cut loose” from business as usual and reach beyond for a far better world. Perhaps what is key is that vital reminder that “a steady center is holding all else,” and if you know where it is, “you can slide your way past trouble.”

It is just as vital to remember that the “twisted monsters” that always bar our path, need not defeat us but can prod us to “get going” amid the complex mix of horror and beauty of which reality is made. As we “get going,” our acceptance of being lost can turn to gratitude for being lost. Because if we didn’t feel lost then we wouldn’t look for a better way.

How vital it is to remember that even when we feel lost that all is not necessarily lost, we just need to find a better way.

I find something deeply reassuring in the fact that “lost and found” are paired together. I love that lost property boxes are often referred to as “The lost and found”. There is something very powerful in the journey of faith here. There is something beautifully paradoxical in all of this. It reminds me that if you want to be found you have to first of all get lost. It is the “Hero’s Journey”.

If I have learnt anything in life it is that the problem isn’t whether or not we will get lost at times, the question is how will we live when we get lost. Now of course the first step towards finding my way again is to recognise first of all that I am lost. This doesn’t necessarily mean literally lost, but lost in myself, whether that is lost in fear, self-doubt, self-pity, basically lost in my own underpants.

When I am lost in myself and find myself truly “lost at sea” I find that what has really happened is that I’ve separated myself once again from what I know to be true, about what is at the heart of me and the heart of life and have blinded myself to the light both within and without and I have once again walled myself in and I begin to feel alone and utterly lost. I have cut myself off from others and the love present in life. In such a state I can really hurt myself, I have done so in the past. I know when I am lost, internally I find myself giving in to guilt, to loneliness and defensiveness. While externally I will begin to blame others for this sense of lostness, resentment grows as does confusion in others. Don’t we all? When I am lost the solution might not be to go back to where I come from, the answer might be to find a better way.

We all feel lost at times. I have re-learnt once more how important that is. It keeps you connected to life and allows you to grow, to be transformed. This is the point of the spiritual life. This year I have re-learnt once again the importance of vulnerability. Everyone of us is vulnerable to the troubles of life. No matter how comfortable life might be at this moment that can be quickly shaken and all can be lost. There could be an unexpected knock at the door, or phone call one cold autumn day with news you don’t want to hear.

The problem isn’t getting lost, we all get lost at times. The problem is in losing faith that you can be found once again. The key is how we live when we find ourselves lost. Do we close down and get lost deeper in our fear, or do we pause and reach out and ask for help from those loving forces that are all around whether visible or invisible. Do we look for the better way.

I’m going to end with one final poem, by my favourite farmer poet Wendell Berry. It’s his “Sabbath Poem II”

Sabbath Poem II (1995) by Wendell Berry

The best reward in going to the woods
Is being lost to other people, and
Lost sometimes to myself. I'm at the end
Of no bespeaking wire to spoil my goods;

I send no letter back I do not bring.
Whoever wants me now must hunt me down
Like something wild, and wild is anything
Beyond the reach of purpose not its own.

Wild is anything that's not at home
In something else's place. This good white oak
Is not an orchard tree, is unbespoke,
And it can live here by its will alone,

Lost to all other wills but Heaven's -- wild.
So where I most am found I'm lost to you,
Presuming friend, and only can be called
Or answered by a certain one, or two.

From Wendell Berry’s This Day: Collected & New Sabbath Poems, Counterpoint, Berkeley 2013: 195.

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

Clues: The Thread You Follow Through The Labyrinth of Life

“Labyrinth” by Kayla Parker

Walk the maze
within your heart: guide your steps into its questioning curves.
This labyrinth is a puzzle leading you deeper into your own truths.
Listen in the twists and turns.
Listen in the openness within all searching.
Listen: a wisdom within you calls to a wisdom beyond you and in that dialogue lies peace.

It has been quite a week; it’s been a busy week. I have been very much involved right in the stream of life. Whilst I’ve been swimming in the stream I have felt as though the ears of my ears and have been wide awake and the eyes of my eyes side open. It has felt as if the soul of life has been communicating with my life, not loudly, but gently and persistently.

I have conducted two funerals in the chapel this week, both were of friends for many years. One of whom became a much loved member of the Dunham Road congregation, Liz. Both funerals had moments, unexpected ones, that have awakened something in me and others, speaking from that deeper soul. On Monday at Jon’s funeral those in attendance were invited to speak after the eulogy. Several did beautifully about his life and what he had meant to them. Then a man came forward, who no one else knew. He looked quite distressed and began to speak. He took out his phone and read a picture of a letter he had written to Jon over 20 years before. It was an apology he had never been able to give for things that had happened when they were kids at school. You could almost feel something move as he spoke. The man left after the service and no one really had chance to speak to him. I hope he finds peace. It spoke powerfully to me of the potential for healing and redemption in our lives no matter how far down the line it might be. It spoke powerfully to me of faith. It was an incredible experience to witness.

Liz’s funeral service had a powerful impact too. There were even a couple of moments when it felt like the God of humour was playing tricks on us all. I was deeply moved by what so many people told me after the service. How they said I really knew Liz. They also told me how much she loved the community and had healed so much with us. She will be greatly missed, something I felt strongly all day. Following the service there was a private intimate committal at Dunham Massey. It ended with joy and humour and the song “Hi Ho Silver Lining”, it seemed perfect. As we stepped out into the sunshine that had just appeared I noticed a faint outline of a rainbow in the skyline. It had been raining for some time and now the sun was out, perfect timing.

The next morning I attended my usual Thursday mediation. Liz herself was one of the four people who attend the very first one, along with myself and two people who attended her funeral. The first person to share after the silence began by saying he had been driving in that morning listening to “Talk Sport” when suddenly they began to play “Hi Ho Silver Linning”, wow what a coincidence I thought. Then he shared about being out with his family walking in the hills , how the kids were complaining of the weather walking etc, of a giant seagull pooing on his head and all kinds of things going wrong and then they reached the summit together, the sun came out and there in front of them was a beautiful rainbow and this sense of gratitude that they could share this moment together just overcame him.

I thought to myself “Hi ho silver lining” indeed.

I was sat with a couple of folk who had been at Liz’s funeral and remembered a conversation I had had with them. One was trying to describe someone we all knew, but he couldn’t remember his name. He was doing a terrible job of it. I remarked come on John, give us a clue. Someone said he would be useless at charades. He was certainly no Una Stubbs or Lionel Blair. He also gave us a glimpse of what life might be like if we are privileged to live long enough and end up in a retirement home. There was joy and laughter shared and we remembered dear old friends we have known along the way of life.

Life truly does speak and those within it do too. There are clues everywhere. All we have to do is pay attention and keep on sharing what we have with one another. We sail this ship together.

Clues have been on my mind of late. This is due in no small part to a recent etymological discovery. I recently learnt of origins of the word “Clue”. It was an amazing discovery. A true adventure, involving Greek Mythology.

The word “clue,” as in “a piece of evidence used as a guide in solving a mystery or a problem,” originally means “a ball of thread,” spelled “clew.” (CLEW). Now this raises a question, what on earth has thread got to do with clues? Well, the answer is the story of Ariadne, Theseus, the labyrinth and the Minotaur.

In Greek mythology the Minotaur is a terrifying monster, half human and half bull, born on the island of Crete. Now to keep the Minatour from hurting people, the king of the island makes Daedalus, an inventor and architect, create a labyrinth that the Minotaur will never be able to escape from.

One day the kings son is killed in Athens. The king is so incensed that he declares war on. The Athenians are defeated and as punishment they are forced to send seven girls and seven boys to Crete every year., where they were forced into the labyrinth, where the Minotaur devours them.

One year Theseus, the son of the king of Athens, decides to go to Crete in order to kill the Minotaur and stop the sacrifices. When Theseus arrives in Crete he meets Ariadne, the king’s daughter, and she falls in love with him. Theseus tells Ariadne that he intends to kill the Minotaur and that he will marry her if she helps him. This when Ariadne gives him a ball of thread, called a “clew,” which Daedalus had given her, and she tells Theseus that if he keeps hold of the thread he will find his way back out of the labyrinth with it. He ties one end of the thread to the door of the labyrinth, manages to find and kill the Minotaur deep inside the labyrinth, and then follows the thread back out.

This though doesn’t necessarily answer how the thread came to mean “Clue”. Well the word “clew” always meant both “a ball of thread” and “something that guides a person out of a difficult or mysterious situation.” The spelling changed from “clew” to the modern “clue,” in the early 17th century and thus the word we sue today was born and became a clue we might follow, in order to find an answer.

If we follow the clues we will be led out the labyrinth to safety no matter how lost we may feel at the time. I feel it is the same in life, certainly my life. It does not mean we won’t face misfortune and even disaster from time to time. That said if we keep hold of the thread and take care of the thread we will find our way back home.

When I think of clues etc and those who paid attention and followed them I think of the great detectives of fiction. I have always loved detective stories. My favourite tv programs tend to involve mysteries and detection. As I child I loved Agatha Christie. When relaxing of an evening I love nothing more than watching detective series, new and old. I’m just as happy watching “Murder She Wrote” as I am watching any of the high tech modern series. I’m just as happy watching Bazil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes as I would be watching NCIS or “The Miss Fisher Murder Mysteries”. There is something in the searching for clues and answers and coming to conclusions that I suspect I love in these books and films and activities. I know I am not alone.

The great detectives unearthed the clues by paying attention, particularly to the people around them. Perhaps the most subtle and seemingly innocent was Miss Marple. She had developed a simple down to earth understanding of people, during her time growing up the village of St. Mary Mead. She saw through attentive eyes and had an ability to connect the details and stories together and relate them to people she had known in a her long life. She would hear the details of a murder and say something like, “That reminds me of poor Mr or Mrs so and so …” And how this little problem that they had tried or had caused would be related to the murder. Miss Marple paid attention to people, she paid attention to the world around her, connecting it all together. To me this is the key to spiritual living, to pay attention, to make connections and then to put them into practical application. The key is not to merely ask questions and search for answers but to piece it together and live them as a conclusion in life. The key is to do as Rilke suggested “To live the questions” and in so doing you might just live your way into the answers. This is done in our very human and real lives, by paying attention to one another and by paying attention to life. This is how we follow the clues in the labyrinth of life.

This brings to mind a favourite poem “Love at First Sight” by Wislawa Szyborska

"Love at First Sight" by Wislawa Szymborska's

They're both convinced
that a sudden passion joined them.
Such certainty is beautiful,
but uncertainty is more beautiful still.

Since they'd never met before, they're sure
that there'd been nothing between them.
But what's the word from the streets,
staircases, hallways —
perhaps they've passed by each other a
million times?

I want to ask them
if they don't remember —
a moment face to face
in some revolving door?
perhaps a "sorry" muttered in a crowd?
a curt "wrong number" caught in the receiver? —
but I know the answer.
No, they don't remember.
They'd be amazed to hear
that Chance has been toying with them
now for years.

Not quite ready yet
to become their Destiny,
it pushed them close, drove them apart,
it barred their path,
stifling a laugh,
and then leaped aside.

There were signs and signals,
even if they couldn't read them yet.
Perhaps, three years ago
or just last Tuesday
a certain leaf fluttered
from one shoulder to another?
Something was dropped and then picked up.
Who knows, maybe the ball that vanished
into childhood's thicket?

There were doorknobs and doorbells
where one touch had covered another
beforehand.
Suitcases, checked and standing side by side.
One night, perhaps, the same dream,
grown hazy by morning.

Every beginning
is only a sequel, after all,
and the book of events
is always open halfway through.

This beautiful poem “Love at first sight”, by Wislawa Szymborska, describes two lovers engaged in a display of public affection. I get the impression that the author is convinced that some guiding force is at work in their interaction. What begins as “Chance”, then becomes “Destiny” which “pushed them close, drove them apart”. The poem suggests that these lives were scripted long ago in a “book of events”, which cannot be altered, try as we might. The poem suggests that the lovers have passed by one another many times before, but were never aware or ready to make that first point of contact. That there were signs along the way and that one day this encounter would happen, but it was more than mere chance, something else was at work offering itself to both of them. It just took this moment for it to happen.

In many ways this is how I see life these days. So many possibilities are going on all around us. Some good, others not so good. So many joys, tragedies, triumphs, failures, frustrations, crises, endless possibilities good and bad. Life offers itself to us, but so often we close ourselves off from it. One thing I have noticed is that as I have allowed life itself to guide me I have become more open I am to life itself and the more connected I have felt, the more aware I have become of experiencing meaning and making meaning filled decisions. As I have done so I experienced a greater sense of belonging to myself, those people I share my life with and this world in which we all live and breathe and share our being.

The more I have lived this way the more I have noticed the meaningful coincidences in life. Some say this is how it is meant to be, I am not wholly convinced of this, I prefer to see it as this how it could be if I allow myself to follow the rhythm of life. If I do I notice the so called coincidences, the synchronicities of life. If I follow the thread, If I follow the “clew”, If I follow the clues everyway. All I have to do is pay attention.

To follow the clues is to truly live the questions and thus therefore one day hopefully live our way into the answers. This requires us to pay attention, to pay attention to everyone and then relate it our own experiences, like Miss Marple did. To find the answers she paid attention to life, to other people and to her own intuition. She lived her way into the answers by merely paying attention. She followed the clues, the thread.

I was paying attention on Thursday morning sitting in meditationI heard the language of the heart touch me deeply as people spoke and yet at the same time I could hear clearly all the sounds of life outside. I could hear the traffic, I could hear the birds singing and I could hear the wind, and as I did the words shared penetrated me more deeply. As I listened I found the clues and began to live my way in answers. And what is the answer you might ask? Well, the answer is to pay attention, pay attention to everything. In so doing you will begin to live your way into the answers. All you have to do is pay attention to clues, to follow the thread.

I’m going to end this morning with a favourite poem By William Stafford “The Way It Is”. It is about the thread that runs through life, that will guide us home if we follow the Mythos of Theseus and always hold on to it.

“The Way It Is” by William Stafford

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.

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

I walk with beauty all around me

We walk in beauty every day, even when things seem ugly around us. The Navajo people have a prayer that recognise this. This a version I came across in recently, thank to Matthew Fox. He says it deserves to be sung daily by all persons:

"I walk with beauty before me
I walk with beauty behind me
I walk with beauty above me
I walk with beauty below me
I walk with beauty all around me
Your world is so beautiful, Oh God.

As is often the case I woke up on Monday morning feeling tired. It had been a busy week away at the annual meetings and of course the Easter weekend. I could see a busy week ahead. On top of that I was wondering what to explore this week. I was wandering around the gardens at the chapel with Molly. The sun had just come up and Molly was sniffing around before “Going to the toilet”. As I was standing around wondering how long she would sniff before she went, I looked up and noticed that the cherry blossom trees were in full bloom. They were a beautiful rich deep pink. As always they made me smile, they are so beautiful. Their beauty in many ways comes from how short lived their blooming is. In fact, the cherry blossom is probably at it’s most beautiful a week or so later as it has half fallen. When the chapel gardens will be filled with pink snow and half are still on the trees. Their beauty is in both their impermanence and imperfection. They are at their most beautiful when their season is half complete, or at least in the eye of this beholder. I wondered if it will last until the next full moon on 5th May. As I enjoyed the cherry blossom in full bloom I remembered something I once heard about beauty and imperfection. A friend said that they loved looking at the full moon on a clear night. Although they preferred a not quite perfectly clear night as the moon seemed to look even more beautiful when framed by a couple of clouds. I smiled as I remembered this and looked up at the cherry blossom and thought I will enjoy your impermanent and imperfect beauty while it lasts, I will let it fill my imperfect heart and will hopefully share it. I then went back into the house, Molly had finished enjoying the beauty of her nose. I replied to a few emails and then went out for a long walk and got on with my day. That day I walked in beauty. I noticed the beauty all around me. In the spring flowers, the daffodils and tulips, the cherry blossom, the dogs of the town and the people I met and talked with. I had some beautiful conversations last Monday. I walked and I talked in beauty.

It is important to recognise the beauty in the world, particularly in difficult times. There are many troubles that surround us, that weigh heavy on our hearts, but this is not all that is life. There is some 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 these days. I love the way that quality poets see what is beautiful, capture it with words and share in such a beautiful way that it awakens something in our hearts. I love the way William Stafford depicts that the world is more that the troubles we see, in the following poem; 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 continued to walk in beauty I kept taking in the natural world around. I was not ignoring the troubles that were also in my heart, or my work commitments, I was just remembering that “this world is still alive” and it was 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 looked at the blooming flowers and the cherry blossom I was 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 this faith. I may not always see the fruits, but I do from time to time. As I walked in beauty and hope I saw beauty and new life all around me. If lifted my heart and inspired my soul.

This seems to be the key of course, how beauty inspires us. What that is, is different for everyone. To walk in beauty is to be touched by beauty. To quote Matthew Fox: "I believe that beauty is better understood as an adjective than as a noun. Rather than pursuing the question, What is beauty? I believe it is more useful to ask the question, "What are beautiful experiences you have had? And how can we forge more beauty from our common sharing of this planet?”

To walk in beauty is to be touched and affected by it. Having been touched we touch in beauty in return and therefore contribute to the ongoing beautifying of the world. As we do hope lives and cynicism dies; as we do we walk in beauty.

Beauty of course is not perfect. Like the falling cherry blossom or the slightly covered full moon, on an almost clear sky. Perfection is not beautiful, despite our attempt to make it so. Beauty is the “dappled things.” Something Gerald Manley Hopkins captured so beautifully. Hopkins wrote in such beautiful language. Like the most beautiful writers he was even bold enough to create his own language at times. As Parker J Palmer has said “Some of his poems celebrate and give thanks for the beauty of the world — and they open my eyes to it, even when I do not understand his every word!”

I am not sure that beauty is meant to be understood, more enjoyed. In so doing you get to experience more deeply and then somehow begin to understand through experience.

Parker continues, when reflecting on the following poem by Hopkins “Pied Beauty”

“At a time when some are so threatened by diversity that they become fearful, hateful, and violent, what could be more important than giving thanks for “dappled things” — human as well as natural — and for the harmony and joy we feel when we learn to do the “dance of differences”?”

“Pied Beauty” by Gerard Manley Hopkins

Glory be to God for dappled things –
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.

Well, I offer praise by walking in beauty and beauty walks in me.

Beauty is in imperfection. For the Japanese who worship the Cherry Blossom’s imperfect beauty, imperfection is often seen as the highest form of beauty. This is beautifully illustrated in the following story shared by psychoanalyst Kawai Hayao in “Dreams, Myths and Fairy Tales in Japan”

"There is a famous story about a Zen master who shows what beauty is for him. A young monk is sweeping a garden. He tries to do his best at the job. He cleans the garden perfectly so that no dust is left in it. Contrary to his expectation the old master is not happy about his work. The young monk thinks for a while and shakes a tree so that several dead leaves fall down here and there in the garden. The master smiles when he sees this.”

This is a beautiful example of the concept of “Wabi-Sabi” The simplest definition of wabi sabi is that it is a kind of beauty whose highest form is expressed through imperfection. This is why the cherry blossom is so loved. As it is at it most beautiful when it is just past its peak, when the petals begin to drip-drop onto the ground.

Beauty is imperfect and it is impermanent. You can not hold it, but you can walk in it. You can live by it, but you do need to recognise it, inhale it, embody it and share it. This is why I love Mary Oliver so much, even though she is sadly no longer with us. This does not mean we cannot share her beauty. I do constantly. I am going to end this address with a little bit of Mary, for if anyone walked in beauty, in a very real sense, it was she. She reminds me that if I look and listen all the time for whatever is beautiful in life, it will fill me with delight and it will instruct me in joy and acclamation, it will help me grow wise, and it will inspire me to walk in beauty.

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. Sometimes all you have to do is look up at the blossom above you, or the little dog below you who is more interested is sniffing at things than going to the toilet. It worked for me early Monday morning, it inspired me to walk in beauty, to absorb it, to let it fill my soul and to share what it did to me.

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"

Living Spiritually Alive: Wholeness, Health & Well-Being

Last Sunday was a long day, a full day, a busy day. I don’t just mean my usual duties, but all sorts of other things going on, folk contacting me, having to carry many different things in my heart, mind and soul. My phone didn’t stop pinging, nor did my interactions and conversations abate. Late in the day I found myself “ligging” out on my settee, eating and half watching a drama on tv. I felt satisfied, if exhausted. I found myself making all kinds of noises in my mouth and throat, beautiful soothing sounds. I like to do this when I am relaxing. I thought to myself I really do need to learn “Overtone” singing. I was creating some wonderful bottom end notes, just smiling at myself in a state of bliss. As I went to bed, I decided I would not set my alarm, I would wake “naturally”. Can anyone really awaken unnaturally?

Well, I was obviously exhausted as I slept through until almost 9am, this is unheard of for me. I began my day in the usual manner, this included sharing my “It comes in the little things” reflection on Facebook, a spiritual discipline I have kept up since early December. How I have delighted in so many other people joining in. I had much to do that day, including dealing with many of the pressing issues left over from the day before. That said despite these many challenges I felt in good spirits.

As I ventured into the day the following poem “Any Morning” by William Stafford” was singing in my heart and soul.

Here it is:

“Any Morning” by William Stafford

Just lying on the couch and being happy.
Only humming a little, the quiet sound in the head.
Trouble is busy elsewhere at the moment, it has
so much to do in the world.

People who might judge are mostly asleep; they can't
monitor you all the time, and sometimes they forget.
When dawn flows over the hedge you can
get up and act busy.

Little corners like this, pieces of Heaven
left lying around, can be picked up and saved.
People won't even see that you have them,
they are so light and easy to hide.

Later in the day you can act like the others.
You can shake your head. You can frown.

Any Morning Can Be a Little Corner of Heaven

I could feel that little corner of heaven that morning, as I had the night before, despite the very real concerns and worries close at hand and in the wider world. Worries and trouble that have been very much with me this week. Not that I have been downbeat at all this week. I have felt connected, in good shape actually, with a real sense of well-being. I’ve found myself humming and singing to myself a lot this week, particularly the line “Groovy times are here again” by The Clash

Later that day I found myself watching the BBC news. Now amongst the more troubling news stories this last Monday there was one that was heartening. I found a little piece of heaven if you like. It was a story about the life of the wonderfully named Mercedes Gleitze, who was the first British woman to swim the English Channel in 1927, she was also the first person to swim the Straits of Gibraltar, later that year. Two achievements that although they were celebrated at the time, were unknown to her own children and grandchildren. A film has just been completed celebrating her life and a “Blue Plaque” has been unveiled at her former Brighton seas-side home.

The news item was shot on Brighton beach, on a freezing cold January morning. On the beach were scores of people going for their daily dip in the freezing sea. They are not alone. It seems the be the “in thing” this winter. I know people that go “wild swimming” in Pickmere out in Cheshire, every week; I know a whole load of folk who went there on New Year’s Day. I am told it is incredibly invigorating and those who do it say it makes you feel “so alive”. I understand that there are many health benefits to cold water swimming such as, boosting the immune system, creating endorphins that lift the mood, improving circulation and libido, the burning of calories, reduction of stress as well helping create a sense of community in the sense it increases socialisation.

I have not been tempted to take a dip myself, at least not yet. I am probably too scarred by holidays in Scarborough as a child and the cold North sea; freezing cold even in the middle of summer. That said I know I have said I would never do things in the past and then got into them. So I ought to learn that you should never say never. So, we shall see. That said I do know that I am more one for a long hot bath, after exercising. I love to loll and listen to music very loudly post workout, before eating. It all contributes to a deep sense of connection and well-being and enables me to fully engage with a very busy life. The messages, the phone calls, the encounters and conversations haven’t stopped all week, there is so much going on. I need this time.

At the beginning of the year so many of us resolve to live healthier lives, gym membership sores, as does attendance at slimming groups and their like. General physical well-being is often on our minds during the winter months, especially early January.

Now while there is a great deal of talk of improving our physical well-being, which is of course vital, there seems to be less talk of taking care of our spiritual well-being, which actually may well be more important. If I have learnt anything in life I know that my emotional, mental and physical well-being rests on my spiritual health. I discovered that if I take care of my spiritual well-being, as a result, the rest just seems to take care of itself. I never forget the importance of first things first.

The purpose of developing our spiritual well-being, is to improve our capacity to live in this life. I agree with my esteemed colleague Rev Bill Darlison who claims that the purpose of spirituality is to increase our sensitivity to life. Not so much transcend this life but to enable us to engage more fully in it. This is something that no one else can do for us, it is our task, our responsibility. Spiritual practice helps us to do so. As the Zen proverb says “no one else can eat your food for you, no one else can go to the toilet for you, and no one else can live your life for you. And, of course, no one else can do your practice for you.

Maybe this is something we could think about as we move into the year. To find ways to improve our spiritual well-being, to find a practice and stick with it, so as to increase our sensitivity to life and thus to live more spiritually alive. It doesn’t need to be anything drastic like cold water swimming, it could be something much simpler. I am continuing my daily practice of paying attention to and sharing the “little things”. It has made a huge difference. For every single day I am noticing more and more of these “little things” and I am finding so many other folk doing the same and sharing them with me and one another. It is a wonderful delight.

To live spiritually alive requires that we increase our sensitivity to life. In so doing it enables us to live more actively in the world and thus our lives will feel more meaningful, meaning filled. It is this that will give us a sense of well-being, of health. Health a word that has its root in the Old English word “haelp” meaning “wholeness, a being whole, sound or well” from the Proto-Germanic “halitho” meaning “whole, uninjured, of good omen”, from older words meaning holy, sacred or healed. In Latin it shared its root with salvation.

Healing, wholeness, health are about being in relationship with ourselves, one another and life. It is about increasing our sensitivity to all of this, this is true well-being. When we live this way we feel spiritually alive, as opposed to being estranged from life.

Spiritual well-being occurs in such relationships, relationships with ourselves, each other, life and whatever we believe is at the core of life, this is where true healing occurs. This does not mean that life does not affect us, there is no cure to life so to speak. If anything it will affect us increasingly. It does not mean the real troubles of life are taken away. What happens is that by being in relationship with all life, our sensitivity to life increases and we experience wholeness, well-being, health, and are thus touched by healing. We are filled with love, in life’s real challenges, and in so doing we know spiritual comfort and thus know what it means to be whole. We will feel wholly alive, we will live holy lives.

Health, well-being is not an absence of trouble of illness, instead it is a sense of being fully alive, like the feeling that those wild swimmers describe.

So, think about it. Can you think of one thing that can help improve your spiritual well-being and thus increase your sensitivity to life and to share it with those in your life. Can you attempt to stick at it day by day. Go on give it a go. I would love to hear about it, as I am certain others will too.

We each find our own bliss, our own groovy times, we rejoice in our own way…

So let’s go seek and discover, live wholly alive, live holy lives.

Below is a video devotion based 

on the material in this "blogspot"

To weave the web, to tear and repair

I will begin this "blogspot" with a refelction by Parker J Palmer...

Here’s a William Stafford poem about the “thread” that runs through our lives — a thread that can guide us if we hold onto it:

"The Way it is" by William Stafford

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.

Holding on doesn’t make life any easier, but it can keep us from getting lost in the dark woods that swallow us up every now and then. Knowing we can find our way home with that thread in hand, we’re more likely to explore the darkness and learn what it has to teach us.

From time to time, I lose track of the thread of my life. I lose it when I succumb to my own fears, or to other people’s expectations, or to the non-stop circus of distractions we call the modern world. So I need to take time to ponder a few questions, which is what I’ve been doing this week:

As I look back on my life, what’s the thread that has given me a sense of meaning and purpose? How can I name or picture it in a way that will keep me more aware of it?

Once I’ve reclaimed my lost thread and have it firmly in hand, what darkness do I need to enter and explore? For example, what fears do I need to face into and walk through to keep them from shutting me down?

In what kinds of situations do I most often let go of the thread? How can I avoid those situations, or go into them better prepared to deal with their risks?

If you find these questions helpful, I’ll be glad. If you have thoughts or questions to share about holding onto the thread that guides your life, I’ll be glad for that, too.

…Thank you Parker…I do like Parker J Palmer

Today is 1st August. I began my ministry with the good folk of Altrincham and Urmston and many others , these beautiful people on 1st August 2010. 11 sweet years, we have been through so much together.

Now of course 1st August is a special day for many reason. It is of course “Yorkshire Day”, as I am sure you all know. You will be celebrating won’t you? I don’t remember it being marked when I was a child, I suspect like a lot of things it is something that has developed over the years. It began in 1975, a creation of the “Yorkshire Ridings Society” as a response to the local government reoganisation in 1974 when the three Ridings no longer existed. August 1st was picked as it marked the passing of Slavery Abolition Act of 1833, a campaign led by the Yorkshire M.P. William Wilberforce. The day was already marked as “Minden Day” commemorating “The Battle of Minden” , when a White Rose is permitted to be worn in the headdress. The white rose is of course the symbol of Yorkshire.

To be honest I suspect that “Yorkshire Day” is a bit of nonsense, although not as much as “Lancashire Day” which is marked on 27th November and began in 1996, no doubt in response to “Yorkshire Day”.

1st of August is also “Sister’s Day”, “Girl Friends day”, “Planner Day”, “Respect for Parents Day”, “Doll Day”, “World Lung Cancer Day”, “Psychic Day” (I’m sure they already knew that), “Rounds Resounding Day”, “International Child Free Day”, “Raspberry Creampie Day”, “World Scout Scarf Day”. I am sure there are other days marked on 1st August too.

1st August is also “World Wide Web Day”, a day of celebration dedicated to web browsing on the internet. Seems like an odd thing to celebrate I know, but if you think about it, the World Wide Web (www) is something that has helped keep so many of us going these last 18months. The World Wide Web has made it possible to do so, something that would not have achievable just a few years ago. It has helped us keep in contact with folk all over the world, as well as finding out information about virtually any topic! It really is quite remarkable to think about the power that the Internet has today, for good and for bad.

The first image to be posted on the World Wide Web, was uploaded in 1992 by Tim Berners-Lee. It was a photo of “Les Horribles Cernettes”, a parody pop band founded by employees at the CERN centre in Geneva. The term “surfing the net” was coined a librarian called Jean Armour Polly? It was first used in an article she published called “Surfing the Internet” in March of 1992. Since then the World Wide Web and grown beyond anyone’s imaginings.

Tim Berners-Lee created the www, you know he gave it away for nothing. If he had wanted to, I’m sure he could have been the richest man on earth, but money was not his motivation. Profit is not the only thing that stimulates creativity, although some would have us believe it is. Tim Berners- Lee is a Unitarian Universalist and it is suggested that the principles of the faith tradition influenced the creation of the World Wide Web. In 1999 he said:

“One of the things I like about Unitarianism is its lack of religious trappings, miracles, and pomp and circumstance. It is minimalist, in a way. Unitarians accepted the useful parts of philosophy from all religions, including Christianity and Judaism, but also Hinduism, Buddhism, and any good philosophies, and wrapped them not into one consistent religion, but into an environment in which people think and discuss, argue, and always try to be accepting of differences of opinion and ideas.”

This at least is the ideal. Nothing lives up to an ideal.

It was something about the decentralised power aspect, that spoke to Berners-Lee and his ideas as to what the www would become. Perhaps what influenced him was the idea that the Divine is a part of the interconnectedness of everything and that all feed into the creative process. This is how Berners-Lee conceived that the World Wide Web would operate.

When considering the future of the internet in 1999 he suggested that:

“We certainly need a structure that will avoid those two catastrophes: the global uniform McDonald’s monoculture, and the isolated Heaven’s Gate cults that understand only themselves. By each of us spreading our attention evenly between groups of different size, from personal to global, we help avoid these extremes. “

Sadly, and seemingly more clearly day by day, Berners-Lee’s dreams have not been realised. The darker forces that are at work in life do seem to have overwhelmed the internet with aggression and disinformation, while corporate power has taken control. A bit like so many of the great faith traditions the spirit at the heart of the World Wide Web and the internet have been overtaken.

That said the spirit and thread at the heart of is all is still there. There is still hope. Afterall it is we who feed the web, we are not only fed by it, we are a part of it too. It is the same with the nature of all life. We all live in a vast web of mutuality. We all feed this and we are fed by it too. There are many threads that are constantly weaved. Many of the great religious traditions speak of them. It seems to me that the www is a mirror of life.

I have come to believe that we have this thread running through all of us, this aspect of the Divine; I have come to believe that God is not separate from creation, but weaved and weaving through it. We each of us have this very same thread in us, in fact maybe we as individuals are one thread on the universal web of all life, that without our thread and every other thread the web would not exist. The web is what creates, holds and sustains us, but at the same time we create the very same web of existence. Many of the great stories of the ancient traditions speak of this. In the Christian tradition I always think of the Kingdom of God, as being an example of it. You see the Kingdom is not some place we wish to arrive at some day, but something we build or maybe weave right here, right now. We are the builders, we are weavers or we are the destroyers of the web, the kingdom or as I prefer to call it these days, the “kin-dom” of love and life is its temple.

This is why it is vital that we take care of this thread that is our life, body, mind, heart and soul and that we continue to weave into the web of all existence. That we fully play our part in creating and recreating the web. For if we do not we will not be playing our part in the whole and we will feel disconnected, no longer a part of the whole.

At times our thread may become a little threadbare, an aspect may become weakened. When this happens we need to take stock and perhaps do what is required to fix our thread or perhaps do more work to repair the damaged whole.

The web does not only exist in the present moment. It began to be weaved at the beginning of time and will continue on into eternity, when we all here are long gone. That said we have played our role in co-creating the whole. As our ancestors did, those who came before us. As I look back at my own life I can see a kind of personal tapestry being weaved and not by myself alone. I did not create this wholly alone, so many other lives have weaved their way into my life and helped create who I am, just as I have weaved my way into the lives of others. There is no neutrality in life, everything is connected. Everything that we do and do not do matters. Every thought, every word, every feeling. It matters for we are all part of the great interconnected whole.

I have come to believe that the primary purpose of spiritual community is to aid and encourage both the repair and enhancing of our individual threads while also creating, repairing and beautifying the whole. This was Berners-Lee’s vision of the World Wide Web. I suspect it is akin to what Rev Dr Martin Luther King called “Beloved Community”, the Kingdom of God right here right now. A faith community that is based around responsibility in humility. Not one that expects God to do the weaving alone but for each individual to bring their uniquely beautiful thread and weave it into community, turning up, entering into relationship willingly, learning how to weave their individual gifts to make the most of the whole, which is greater than the sum of its parts. To me this is true religion. Religion comes from the word religiere which meant to bind together and create more than could be done alone with the individual parts. Our single threads, no matter how well developed, no matter how powerful and beautiful can achieve very little alone, in fact they are pretty useless and certainly lonely on their own. This is the greatest problem of spirituality without community, in truth it doesn’t really work. Yet each individual thread weaved into the whole, playing its part, can create something way more beautiful than any of us could ever have imagined.

We are here for a purpose, there is a mighty meaning to our lives. Our lives and the lives of all depend on us taking care of the threads that make up our individual lives and the weaving of our threads as deeply as we can into the web of all existence. As we look at ourselves, our families, our communites, our world, no doubt we can see may tears in the web of existence, tears that won’t heal themselves. It is our task to repair the damage by weaving our threads together. In so doing we not only repair the whole, but we also beautify and strengthen our own threads. In so doing we will begin to create the “Kin-dom of Love” right here right now, we become the “Beloved Community”, we become the ones we have all been waiting for.

Something to think about this day, August 1st, “World Wide Web” day and in all the days to come.

Please find below a video devotion based

 on the material contained in ths "Blogspot"

The Golden Thread: We Come Together in Love

 O come together in truth;

O come together in peace;
O come together in joy and sharing,
Come together in knowing and caring;
Come together,
O come together,
O come together in love.

Beautiful words by Dorothy Grover, from a much loved hymn. 

They describe why I became a part of spiritual community. They are not the reason why I went from a secular singular person to one who sought out spiritual community, but they are why I stayed. I came to try and understand, to make sense of the sudden and profound changes that had occurred in my life many years ago now, changes that have continued on and on and on. I have not found the answers I was seeking by the way, in fact if anything there are many more questions today than there was then. What community has given me, amongst so many others is a space to explore those and many other questions with like hearted people. In such an environment I have learnt to not only ask and listen to the questions, but to truly live them. I came seeking answers, but it is not why I stayed. I stayed because I found something far more than I was consciously looking for. I stayed because I found community, I found true belonging. I found love. I found my heart's desire.

We come together, oh come together, we come together in love…

Now sadly of course we can’t come together as we would like, we can’t all be together to share in worship, well not physically at least. We are of course together in heart and mind, spirit and soul, some physically at Dunham and hopefully soon at Queens Road, some on Zoom from all sorts of places, and those who are reading the service at home too. We are being creative in ways of coming together, always in love. We are of course coming a little closer, step by step, with love always as our guide.

This not being able to be physically together can be particularly difficult at those times in life when we come together for rites of passage. Like the family funeral I conducted this Friday, or the Gott wedding this afternoon. Despite not being able to be together, physically, as we would like the love that runs through life can and does bind us together if we would but let it. It is the same with birthdays and other celebrations too or at times when those we care for are ill or suffering, as so many are in these challenging days, we find ways though. I saw a lovely example last Saturday as I saw Thelma and her daughter Lisa enjoying fish and chips and each others company sat in the sun in the gardens at the chapel, from a safe social distance of course.

We can still “come together in loving and caring

Oh come together, oh come together, oh come together in love.”

It brought to mind this wonderful bit of wisdom from “When all you’ve ever wanted isn’t enough” by Harold Kushner

“A life without people, without the same people day after day, people who belong to us, people who will be there for us, people who need us and whom we need in return, may be very rich in other things, but in human terms is no life at all.

I was sitting on the beach one summer day, watching two children, a boy and a girl, playing in the sand. They were hard at work building an elaborate sandcastle by the waters edge, with gates and towers and moats and internal passages. Just when they had nearly finished their project, a big wave came along and knocked it down, reducing it to a heap of wet sand. I expected the children to burst into tears, devastated by what had happened to all of their hard work. But they surprised me. Instead they ran up the shore away from the water, laughing and holding hands, and they sat down to build another castle. I realized that they had taught me a valuable lesson. All of the things in our lives, all of the complicated structures we spend so much time and energy creating, are built on sand. Only our relationships with other people endure. Sooner or later, the wave will come along and knock down what we have worked so hard to build up. When that happens, only the person who has somebody's hand to hold will be able to laugh."

It also brought to mind the following verse from Matthew’s Gospel Ch 18 v 20 “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them” When we come together in love, that spirit comes to life.

“O come together, o come together, o come together in love.

This is why people come together in spiritual community, why the commune. As the writer Annie Dillard put it “We are here to abet creation and to witness it. To notice each other’s beautiful face and complex nature so that creation need not play to an empty house.”

In coming together in love we create community, it is the love that we create together that binds such community together. This love is the thread that binds us together. We are all responsible for weaving this thread and repairing it when it gets damaged. It is this that binds us to one another and it this that hold us together in love.

Now as Parker J Palmer put it while reflecting on the wonderful poem “A Thread to Guide Us” by William Stafford.

“Holding on doesn’t make life any easier, but it can keep us from getting lost in the dark woods that swallow us up every now and then. Knowing we can find our way home with that thread in hand, we’re more likely to explore the darkness and learn what it has to teach us.”

Here's the poem:

“The Way It Is” by William Stafford

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.

Now an old rarely heard word for this thread of love that binds us together in love is “yoke”. Now a yoke is a wooden bar that is fastened around the necks of two animals, connecting them together and to the vehicle or load they are pulling. In the context of community though yoke is a nurturing word. It is a humble and tender word, particularly for the most vulnerable in family, community and society, it is that loving thread that binds us together in love. In such connections we find rest, comfort, care, protection and light-heartedness. Yes light-heartedness for there is a sense of fun in this idea of yoke. Gosh how much do we miss this ability to come together in joy and laughter too. In Middle Eastern languages yoke has connotations of laying arms on the shoulders of another and dancing in cirlces and long lines. It is a familiar and comfortable feeling and fills one with delight as you get lost in the music and sing and dance and just let go without fear. To be yoked means to come together in love.

We come together in search
Of new beginnings for all,
Where understanding and trust surround us – 
Gone the hate and fear that bound us;
Come together,
O come together,
O come together in love.

The Sanskrit word for yoke is yuj. Like Yoke in the west it is a physical device used to join cattle. From this interestingly the word yoga came. Now Yoga means union, just think about this idea of something binding us together in love. Yoga though is not really a noun, a thing, it is more a verb, something that you do, like people coming together in love, to create loving community. Sue and myself have been practising yoga these last few months, since lockdown began. It is one of the many loving threads that has held us through these difficult days. It has been comical too as we have had to negotiate two dogs, particularly the disobedient little dog, not a lot of space and bodies that will not do the things that the woman on the video can do. There has been much laughter as we have yoked and joked our way through, being held in love these last weeks and months.

These principles of coming together in love will help us as we try to rebuild and rebind our communities, to create space for people to come together not only in love, but also search in the days ahead.

We come together in search
Of new beginnings for all,
Where understanding and trust surround us – 
Gone the hate and fear that bound us;
Come together,
O come together,
O come together in love.

Loving community is something that I believe everyone needs, in order to truly thrive and grow and become all that they can be.

Starhawk catches this need near perfectly when she writes:

“Community. Somewhere, there are people to whom we can speak with passion without having the words catch in our throats. Somewhere a circle of hands will open to receive us, eyes will light up as we enter, voices will celebrate with us whenever we come into our own power. Community means strength that joins our strength to do the work that needs to be done. Arms to hold us when we falter. A circle of healing. A circle of friends. Someplace where we can be free.”

So let us continue to build this community of love, where people can come together in love. As we slowly open and begin to be together again we will need a loving community even more, a place where love hold us and sustain us together. It is something that we will all be responsible for creating, but not just here, but also in our families, our communities, our world. Let us begin to repair and weave that thread of love. Let us come together, lets us go out together in love.

O come together in truth;
O come together in peace;
O come together in joy and sharing,
Come together in knowing and caring;
Come together,
O come together,
O come together in love

Amen