Hospitality: Come as you are, exactly as you are, but do not expect to leave in exactly the same condition”

I will begin with a classic bit of Rumi

"The Guest House" by Rumi  

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

I recently attended the funeral of my dear friend Nik’s mother, Helen. Helen was a very special person. She gave so much to so many by just being herself and making you feel welcome and accepted as you are. I have been reflecting on the impact that she had on my life as well as the life of others. While I was preparing thoughts I would share at the funeral, it dawned on me that she was one of the inspirations for my ministerial mantra, she certainly planted some seeds: “Come as you are, exactly as you are, but do not expect to leave in exactly the same condition.” I learnt that in her home where she made myself and so many others feel truly welcome. Her home always felt like a safe haven, a place of refuge. A place of welcome. Home. Certainly, Helen always made you feel that way. To quote the great Robert Frost:

“Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.”

Now the thing about Helen is that she didn’t have to take you in, but she always did. More than that she encouraged and enabled you to be who you were in her company. This is true welcome. This is true openness. I think that sometimes we confuse what it means to be open. It is not to tell the whole world who you are, to pour yourself all over others, but allow those you meet to be who they are in your company. When I think of openness I see it as an Invitation to others, to come into your life.

Now while Helen always made us welcome, there were a couple of rules. She would say “I don’t mind you coming round, as long as you say hello” and “There’s two doors to this house, you come in one and if you don’t like it you go out the other.” So, you would arrive and say hello as Helen worked away on her knitting or stamps in the back room. I learnt the lesson the hard way about her rule. I didn’t need to learn it twice. As she told me straight when I didn’t pop round and say hello once.

Helen was of Polish decent and was born in Germany just after the “Second World War”. Her start to life was not easy. Her father died not long after she was born and as a young child she developed polio, spending months in hospital in an iron lung. Helen’s stay in the hospital lasted so long that she even began to call the nurses ‘mum’. Polio permanently handicapped her as she had one leg shorter than the other. The family eventually ended up in England. She could speak only Polish at first, but eventually became a fully fledge Yorkshire woman. She again learnt something of welcome in those early days as some made the family welcome where as others were suspicious of these strange sounding people. Helen’s sense of welcome was shaped very much by her early life. It also shaped her career as a theatre nurse. Many of her former colleagues attended her funeral. They all spoke of Helen is exactly the same way. Her welcome was her life.

Helen fell in love and married having two sons. Sadly her husband John died suddenly while on holiday from a brain haemorrhage. She brought up her boys alone, being both mother and father to them. Her son’s Nik and Anthony are two of the finest people you could meet. They carry that same spirit of openness and welcome. An absolute credit to her.

I spoke with several people family, friends, colleagues, friends of her sons and all had the same impression of Helen and her life and legacy. She is a wonderful example of what it means to live with welcome. She wanted you to be who you were, with love and respect. She acknowledged the inherent worth and dignity of all, although she would never have used such a phrase. She did so not by what she said, but by simply being who she was. Oh, by the way I am not attempting portray a saint here, she also had that classic Yorkshire bluntness and if you and done wrong she would tell you so. I learnt that once and never disrespected her again. She welcomed me with open arms though, not matter what condition I was in. She did the same with everyone.

This all got me thinking about welcome, about encouraging welcome, about encouraging folk to come and try again even if they have fallen short in life. It also got me thinking about how faith enables us to do some.

It brought to my mind those well known words of Rumi

“Come, come, whoever you are. Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. It doesn't matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair. come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again , come , come.”

Jelaluddin Rumi

Rumi’s words bring to my mind the prodigal’s father. A lot of folk who ended up at Helen’s, who would go talk to her in her back room were struggling with life and she would listen without prejudice, just offering love. When I think of living in and by Grace this is what comes to my mind, to be that kind of person to others. To welcome another to be who they are is the ultimate of Grace we can offer one another. I’m sure Helen wouldn’t see it that way, she was just being herself. She was simply being hospitable. She lived with the memory of those who had offered it her, from a difficult beginning in life and at other stages too. She followed their loving Grace filled example. She also remembered those who made her feel unwelcome as she was a stranger in a strange land, at a difficult time of re-building in European history. Many of her parent’s families were murdered by the Nazi’s and she suffered loss and tragedy throughout her life. She witnessed and experienced a variety of examples and chose the path of love and hospitality, all her life.

Since Helen’s funeral I have been thinking about hospitality and how we might live hospitable lives. Lives of welcome and of healing and repair. We cannot do that to the whole world, but we can begin where we are and do what we can with what we have.

Hospitality is word that conjures images of the hotel industry in our day and age. The word though has a deeper spiritual history. It dates back to the early monasteries of the 5th century. Strangers would come in need of care. The word “Hospitality” originates from the Latin word “hospes” meaning both guest and host and stranger, the origin of the word is reciprocal in nature. At the heart of word is the link between welcoming travellers and caring for the vulnerable. The words hospital, hospice, hospitable, hospitality, bring to my heart and mind the idea of being generous, caring and sustaining, something I witnessed in Helen and many others. It is no surprise that Helen worked as a nurse all her life. Now like Helen there were rules in these ancient monasteries. The best known being that of St. Benedict. Benedict created a book of rules to live by, called The Rule of Benedict. Many monasteries still adhere to it today. The foundation of the rule was listening. “Listen with the ear of your heart,”

To be hospitable is to listen with an open heart; it is to allow the person in your company to speak, to be who they are. It is the key to my ministry and do know what I think I learnt it in Helen’s backroom as she would listen to me and my troubles when I would go to her home often in confusion and despair. She would welcome and listen to me in my prodigal shame. It wasn’t anything personal, she did it for so many, right up to the very end. She would call you a pain in the backside, but would sit you down and give you a cup of Mellow Birds and sometimes something a little stronger. It is strange to me but over the last few weeks, before Helen died, “Mellow Birds for mellow moments” has been singing in my heart and mind. The concept of mutual care and love as also been on my heart a lot too. That it is relational in nature, that folk walk together side by side, listening and sharing

It fascinates me that at its root in the Latin word “hospes”, hospitality meant both guest and host. This is a relational interchange. It brings to my mind an article I read by Renee Ruchotzke who wrote:

“I believe that the theological basis for hospitality – radical hospitality –is the concept of the Creative Interchange as expressed by process theologian Henry Nelson Wieman. In Wieman’s theological model, the source of human good is what he calls the Creative Interchange. You and I interact, we learn something new from one another, we absorb that experience into our own being, it enriches our experience of the world. Our enriched selves in turn enrich others in subsequent interactions. This ripple effect enriches the world. The more varied our experiences and the more we interact with different people, the greater the increase of human good.”

This to me is how we live hospitable lives; it is to be truly open and welcome to one another. Such living is truly transformative; such living embodies what I mean by my ministerial mantra “Come as you are, exactly as you are, but do not expect to leave in exactly the same condition.” To welcome the other you have to be welcome too. A real challenge in our time, but then again it is the same in any other time. It is always a challenge. There is nothing new under the sun.

Hospitality, living this way is not easy. There is the possibility of rejection and becoming vulnerable. Harm can come. Some can make you unwelcome. Some may take advantage. That said I believe that hospitality is essential if we are to begin to heal our broken communities and world. It probably begins one relationship at time, just a wall is repaired one stone at a time.

I have been remembering and honouring a life that touched me deeply the last couple of weeks. Someone who taught me hospitality and welcome. Not a perfect person, a very real one. One I didn’t realise at the time had had such an impact on me at such a difficult time in my life. Someone who loved me as I was by welcoming me exactly as I was. Someone who offered comfort and shelter and most importantly a listening ear, someone who listened with the ear of their heart.

As I said at her funeral.

“Helen was a remarkable woman. Someone who would make you feel welcome as you were. In my work my ministerial mantra is “Come as you are, exactly as you are…but do not expect to leave in exactly the same condition.” I have been thinking of these words these last few days and do know what I have only just realised where I learnt this. It was at 46 White Lee Road a place where you were always welcomed in, even if you were a pain in the arse.”

Thank you Helen for all that you gave to all of us. It is etched in my heart and soul as it is in that of so many of us.

Someone whose memory I hope will always live on in me.

I’m going to end with a little bit more of Rumi. A poem celebrating hospitality.

All religions, all this singing
One Song.
The differences are just
Illusion and vanity.
The Sun's light looks
A little different on this wall than
It does on that wall,
And a lot different on this other one,
But it's still one light.

We have borrowed these clothes,
These time and place personalities
From a light,
And when we praise,
We're pouring them back in.

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

Being Visited by Journeymen: Entertaining Angels Without Knowing It

I had made plans to go to Dunham Massey with Molly and a friend on Tuesday morning. As it happened this didn’t work out as I planned. This happens a lot. Plans are made and then things don’t quite work out the way you would want them to. I went for coffee with some friends. The conversation wandered down a few cynical avenues and I left with a few negative thoughts wondering what I would do that day. I had no idea what to explore although there were thoughts of the God of Surprises floating about my mind. As I passed the market I noticed two “eccentrically” dressed women in black hats talking with a couple of people, I wondered who they were. I then went home, with thoughts of where to take Molly for her walk. I decided to go to the schoolroom first and prepare it for the “Living the Questions” group that evening. There was a knock on the door, Molly started barking. I opened the door and discovered the two women I had passed at the market. They introduced themselves as Jade (pronounced Jada) and Eva, telling me that they were “journeymen” and were looking for somewhere to shelter, to sleep for the night. They had been sleeping outside for several days as they were travelling around the country. They explained to me what a “Journey Man” was. I will explain in a moment. They both had staffs and some baggage which they carried. They left this gear in the schoolroom. I told them that room would be free from 9pm as we had a discussion group which they were welcome to join us for if they wished.

I was blown away by this amazing encounter and pleased my best laid plans had not gone the way I had wanted them to. The God of Surprises seemed well at work.

The Journeyman tradition dates back to the middle ages. When an apprentice had finished their apprenticeship with their master they were to go out on their wander, their waltz, their journey. They were to travel around working and learning from other masters before returning home better skilled. They were called journeymen as they travelled day by day. Journey coming from the French word Journier which meant your daily task or daily travel. They went out into the world living day by day on their journey living on their daily bread. They were to travel for at least three years and one day and could not return to be freemen of their trade until they had done so. The tradition continued until the post war years. The Nazi’s were opposed to it and it almost died off during the war years. Following the reunification of Germany the tradition has revived. Journeymen today are not only men. Jada is a woman and Eva identifies and non-binary.

I bumped into them both later in the day when out walking with Molly. I sat and talked with them a while and found out more about them. They came and joined us for “Living the Questions”. We did not explore the subject we had planned, instead we let Jade and Eva tell us about themselves and their experiences as Journeymen.

It was an incredible evening as they talked about their experiences on the journey. They must travel by hitching a ride and find some place to sleep each night. They are of course meant to work and learn their trades from other masters. Jade is a carpenter and Eva a leather craftsperson. Of course this is no longer allowed in the UK as they are European Union citizens. They explained their clothing and why it is designed as it is as well as the staffs they carry. They talked about how vital it is that they learn patience and understanding and not to get down even if they had wait hours for a lift. They talked about how the journey was helping them develop as people and to understand others. What struck me was how they could not be shy, they had to be courageous. How they had to be humble in asking for help and how they were offering to others an opportunity to be generous. They were like living angels to me as they seemed to bring out the generosity in people. They brought out so much joy in me and in some of us present. I cannot tell you how much the whole experience moved me. I asked them what had brought them to knock at my door. They said that they were talking with a couple of people at the market and they has said that they should try the minister at the Unitarian chapel, as you would find a friendly welcome there. I could have cried, this touched my heart deeply.

I could tell you so much more about these two incredible people who blessed us with their presence. They were heading towards the Lake District and then Edinburgh before travelling down the Yorkshire coast and to York before heading south. They slept the night in the school room and I said I would leave them to go when they felt ready in the morning. I am sure they will bless many more people on their journey. Neither would be returning home for a couple of years, but I know that when they do they will have so much treasure to share.

Earlier we heard an extract from the Hebrews chapter 13 vv 1-6. The line from the second verse has been resonating with me since Tuesday. 2Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it. Who is showing hospitality to these strangers in our very midst?”

This seems to me exactly what occurred on Tuesday. Jade and Eva were both offering and receiving hospitality wherever they go and they are blessing and bringing out blessings everywhere. I felt like we had entertained angels on Tuesday.

Showing hospitality and caring for the vulnerable in society is a key aspect of the Judeo - Christian and Islamic tradition. You will find it deeply rooted in the Abrahamic traditions and virtually every other world religion too. Hospitality is an essential spiritual practice. It begins with an open heart and a generosity of spirit. It’s about recognising the good in life and in people, especially those in need. It’s about recognising ourselves in those very same people. It’s about being open and welcoming to all, wherever they have been, where ever they are going and wherever they find themselves now. Tibetan Buddhist monks great the strangers visiting their temples with “Welcome, friend, from what noble spiritual tradition do you come.” The Christian monastic tradition has a long held practise of taking in strangers and offering them sanctuary as if they were Christ, inspired by those very words from Hebrews. In so doing they are following the example of Jesus who mingled with all people, there was no one left outside the city gate, no untouchables.

This ancient hospitality seems to be to be at the very core of the Journeyman tradition and something that is sadly dying out in our modern age. Hospitality to me seems to be the whole concept of “Kin-dom of Love” right here right now.

Sadly, our age has become characterised by distrust, there is a fear of the strange and the stranger. Tuesday reminded how important hospitality to strangers is. In so doing we offer true spiritual love and liberate ourselves from the bondages of selfishness and self-centredness. It sets us free. Jade and Eva seemed so free as they offered folk they met the opportunity to be generous. They reminded me of the following by Joan Chittister “Hospitality is the way we come out of ourselves. It is the first step toward dismantling the barriers of the world. Hospitality is the way we turn a prejudiced world around one heart at a time.” In listening to Jade and Eva’s adventures they seem the absolute incarnation of this amongst us. We were entertaining angels on Tuesday and they blessed the town of Altrincham, they certainly blessed me.

I was thinking of Jade and Eva on Wednesday after they left, as they headed to find a lift towards the lake district. I was wondering how long they would have to wait patiently before getting a ride. I thought about their journey, how they were “following their bliss”, how it is a classic example of Joseph Campbell’s “Hero’s Journey”.

Campbell described life as a call to adventure. Highlighting that human history is littered with stories and adventures inspired by the search for treasure and or wisdom - Stories such as Jason and the Argonauts or many of the other Greek tales, Pilgrims Progress, Gulliver’s Travels, The Wizard of Oz, Jack and the Beanstalk, The Lord of the Rings the list goes on and on – Humanity’s canon is littered with folk tales and myths which teach us about this call to adventure, about the potential for both beauty and horror that is life.

Joseph Campbell spent years exploring these myths and stories believing that they possessed universal qualities that could help us understand how so often life calls us out to adventure, often at the least expected of moments.

Campbell identified four distinct stages of the journey. The first stage he named as “The Call to Adventure”. This he claimed is caused by discontent, which draws us out of the comfort of our lives to risk something new. The second he described as an initiation, where ordeals are faced that test someone’s mental and physical skills. The third stage is the time of revelation the discovery of truth and treasure. The final stage is the return to one’s community, with wisdom gained and with treasure to share.

These adventures began and ended with a call. They began with a powerful call to adventure, but they also ended with an equally powerful call, to return home. Just think of Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz and those immortal words as she clicked her ruby slippers “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.”

Surely this is what Jade and Eva were on. Isn’t this exactly what Journeymen do. Certainly as I listened to them they described how they were called out of the comfort of their lives, to seek meaning and adventure. How they faced many ordeals with heart and courage and how they were blessed by the people they met, how they learnt so much about themselves and life itself. How they left gifts wherever they went, bringing out a great deal of good in the world. They will eventually return home with gold to share.

On Monday I stepped into the chapels gardens and noticed 6 magpies. I have never seen six before. I told a friend about this and they said well you had better keep your eyes open for gold, because six magpies symbolise gold. Well, the very next day I discovered it in these two remarkable journeymen Jade and Eva. They blessed me and this town with their visit that day. They brought out the best in me and I trust that we left them with a good impression and stories to share on their adventure. I believe I encountered two angels that day.

What a journey.

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

Welcome: On Becoming a Wished for Guest

"Come, come, whoever you are. Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. It doesn't matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair. come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again , come , come."

Words of the Sufi mystic Mawlana Jala-al-Din Rumi

Simply Rumi to most folk

I’m told I’ve got one of those faces. One that’s easy to talk to, easy and approachable. I’m not sure how true it is, but I do find strangers come and talk with me. It happened on Monday afternoon. I’d just come back from the act of Remembrance in Urmston and went to the gym. I set off for half an hour on the cross trainer before getting stuck into some resistance work. I’d only been moving a minute or so when an old guy came to the machine next to me and began to engage me in conversation. I think he told me his life story in about 20 minutes before he’d had enough, not of talking, but of the machine. He told me about his career, his family, his religious beliefs and his politics and a whole lot more. He told me how he’d been a good salesman and that this was down to the smile and his open face, something that his granddaughter had inherited he was proud to say.

I smiled as he left and I got on with the rest of my routine. I wondered if that’s how it works. All you need is an open face and folk will feel welcome. There’s probably more too it than that, but it’s a good start I thought.

Over the years I’ve developed a bit of a ministerial catch phrase. I wonder if anyone reading this can guess.

I am often hear sating “Come as you are, exactly as you are, but do not expect to leave in exactly the same condition.” It is my play on those words of Rumi’s at the beginning of this post.

It is my attempt to make feel people welcome wholly as they, but to also keep them open to the possibility of change. For I do belief that life is flux, always changing. As Heraclitus so beautifully put no one steps in the same river twice, because the river is never the same and neither is the person stepping into it. Change of course is something to be celebrated, my hope is people will always feel welcome exactly as they, without apology. I want everyone to feel welcome in my company and this community. So, I’m kind of glad that folk find me approachable.

And when I say come as you are, exactly as you are…but do not expect to leave in exactly the same condition, I really mean it.

I hope that people always feel welcome in my company...

“Welcome” is one of those very interesting words. It is derived from and old English and Germanic word meaning a wished for guest. So when we welcome people it is more than just accepting folk as they its about wanting nay wishing for what these guests bring. So in the communities I serve when we say all are welcome here, we mean that you truly are wished for guests, although we are not yet sure exactly what it is we are wishing for.

Who you are as you are is wished for…No need to explain or apologies for who you are…

Now of course people don’t always feel welcome in certain company. People have been rejected for all kinds of reasons, whether that be race, gender, sexuality, beliefs or lack of. I and the communities I serve aspire to make no such exclusions, but I know we fall short of our own ideals at times, who doesn't . We do attempt to make no exclusions. We say all are welcome as they are, you are a wished for guest as you are.

It is not just we ourselves who sometime do not feel welcome, sometimes we do not wish to welcome all of life. Some aspects of life and some people are not welcomed by we ourselves. What is unwelcome in our personal guesthouses? What are life’s unwished for guests?

This brings to mind another one of Rumi’s better known poems “The Guest House”

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

I, like so many folk, love the mystical poetry of Rumi. I particularly love his notion here, that being human is like being a “guest house”. In life we are visited by all kinds of guests, so many unexpected visitors occasionally show up and stay for a while, including some you’d really like to throw out. Such guests are certainly not wished for. And yet perhaps such guests are the ones that we ought to be wishing for the most, because if we do welcome them then they may have something to teach us, they may lead us to some new truth, new experience. Perhaps these are the guest we ought to be wishing for, maybe they are the true gift givers in life.

If only we could just simply do that. Just let all life in without fear of what might happen to us, if we could live without stranger danger, whether that be people, situations, feeling and thoughts. Rarely do any of us make the uncomfortable feelings and situations welcome guests.

There are conversations in my life that I avoid, that I would rather not have, that I swerve around. I did it on a couple of occasions with the man I the gym, especially when he moved the subject to politics. I’m sure most folk experience this with family and friends in these increasingly divisive times

Not that I ignore what is going on in the world around me, quite the opposite actually. Sometimes I get a little stuck in the troubles of life. Yes of course there are people places and things that I would rather not listen to; things I would rather ignore avert from my eyes, than pay attention to. There are things in this world I don’t like and do not approve of; there are actions in my nearest and dearest that I don’t agree with; there are aspects of myself that I wish were different. Should I turn from them? There are those who would say so and I have certainly done so in the past, but I try not to these days. Nobody is perfect, no one is complete, but that does not mean that they should be shunned, they should be locked outside love’s gate. They should become un-wished for guests, unwelcome.

This brings to mind a passage from Luke’s Gospel Ch18 vv 9-14 In the passage a prideful Pharisee, who considers himself better than others, is described. He follows the laws and commandments to the letter. In the same passage a tax collector is also described who recognises his imperfections and does not feel he is worthy of God’s love. In the passage Jesus holds up the tax collector and not the Pharisee as being the exalted one. Jesus says “For everyone that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbelth himself shall be exalted. You see the Pharisee turns from the tax collector and others who he believes are beneath him. He sees their wrongs and thus believes that unlike himself they are not worthy of God’s love. The Pharisee fails to see that by rejecting his neighbour he is also rejecting God.

There is something in this teaching, a theme repeated in the Gospels, about being a good host and a good guest. It’s about accepting our humanity and the humanity of one another. It’s about love and acceptance of ourselves and one another; it’s about universal love; it’s about perfect love. I believe that the only thing we can do perfectly is love. This requires us to love all, without prejudice. In my eyes this is how the love that is God comes to life, how it incarnates. I fall short of this mark every day, but I believe that it is possible to attain such love, not just for myself but for everyone. We can accept all people, we are capable of love. The key is to make all of life a wished for guests.

Now of course to truly love someone requires you to get to know them and this can be both scary and at times painful. And of course to know someone requires us to understand what a person loves and what causes them pain. To truly welcome someone means we welcome all of them. We can’t ask the guests we wish for to leave part of themselves outside of the guesthouse

There is a wonderful story told by Madeleine L’Engle in “Walking on Water”, which describes this oh so beautifully.

“(Here is) a story of a Hasidic rabbi, renowned for his piety. He was unexpectedly confronted one day by one of his devoted youthful disciples. In a burst of feeling, the young disciple exclaimed, “My master, I love you!” The ancient teacher looked up from his books and asked his fervent disciple, “Do you know what hurts me, my son?”

The young man was puzzled. Composing himself, he stuttered, “I don’t understand your question, Rabbi. I am trying to tell you how much you mean to me, and you confuse me with irrelevant questions.”

“My questions is neither confusing nor irrelevant,” rejoined the rabbi, “For if you do not know what hurts me, how can you truly love me.””

To know someone is not only to share in their joy, but also in their suffering. To welcome someone is to welcome them wholly, to make every aspect of them the wished for guest.

I believe that one purpose of religious communities is the development of intimacy, real intimacy, something that is lacking in our increasingly isolating culture. Something that modern day consumerist spirituality does not offer. It does not offer the intimate encounter that community brings. Spirituality cannot occur in the privacy of our lives or hidden away on mountain tops it can only come to life in real lived encounters with other people. In awkward difficult encounters with people like you and me, perfectly imperfect people who know both joy and pain. With folk who practise what t it means to truly love. Who worship wholly in all areas of life, not in a superior way, but humbly and because they love life and their souls need this worship and love of life.

The communities I serve say all are welcome, we say come as you are exactly as you are...but don’t expect to leave in exactly the same condition.

We say we accept people exactly as they are in their faith, doubt and confusion, in their joy and sadness. This is true hospitality. Welcoming the weary traveller with open arms, whoever they are and where ever they have come from. Welcoming them wholly body, mind and soul; that they leave no part of themselves at the door. All that we ask is that those that we welcome are good guests and hosts themselves, that they accept us as we are and others who come as they are.

We say this is a community of love, where we aspire to offer perfect love, to accept people as they are.

So come as you are, exactly as you are, become the wished for guest, but do not expect to leave in exactly the same condition…

Sanctuary

“This Place Is Sanctuary” by Kathleen McTigue taken from “Shine and Shadow”

You who are broken-hearted,
who woke today with the winds of despair
whistling through your mind,
come in.

You who are brave but wounded,
limping through life and hurting with every step, come in.
You who are fearful, who live with shadows
hovering over your shoulders,
come in.

This place is sanctuary, and it is for you.
You who are filled with happiness,
whose abundance overflows,
come in.

You who walk through your world
with lightness and grace,
who awoke this morning with strength and hope,
you who have everything to give,
come in.

This place is your calling, a riverbank to channel
the sweet waters of your life, the place
where you are called by the world’s need.
Here we offer in love.
Here we receive in gratitude.
Here we make a circle from the great gifts
of breath, attention and purpose.
Come in.

I was recently invited to an “open evening” at Timperley Community Church. The purpose of the evening was to discuss the new “Emergency Night Shelter” that will be opening there for those who find themselves homeless and who the council cannot give housing to in the coming winter months. There is currently no provision for this in Trafford and according to official statistics there is no real homelessness in Trafford. Official statistics claim that there are just two homeless people in the whole of the borough. I know from personal observation and experience that this is untrue.

The “Emergency Night Shelter” are seeking support in the community and from religious organisations. They are looking for volunteers to man the shelter as well as provisions such as socks, underwear, pillows and pillow cases, water proof clothing and toiletry packs. I will be endeavouring in the coming months to help in whatever ways I can. I have noticed in my five years as a minister in Trafford that there is a growing need for this provision.

Homelessness is on the increase in this country, I find this disturbing. What I find equally disturbing are attitudes toward people who find themselves in such situations. I do not like some of the language that I hear and the way that people are spoken of. I hear an alarming dehumanisation going on and it is not healthy for the soul of this country.

In 2013 112, 070 people declared themselves homeless in the UK, this is a 24% rises over a four year period. Official statistics submitted by local authorities show that the number of “rough sleepers” has increased from 1,768 in 2010 to 2,744 in 2014. “rough sleepers are only a small fraction of the total homeless population.

Local authorities have a statutory duty to house some homeless people, such as pregnant women, parents with dependent children and people considered for a variety of reasons as vulnerable. This rarely includes young single adults who are often hit the hardest. There are tens of thousands who find themselves in hostels. There are though not enough beds to provide for them all. Many fall into the category that are known as “hidden homeless”, more or less out of sight in B&B’s, squats, or on the floors of friends and families. I’ve been in this situation myself more than once in my lifetime. There is no security here, nowhere in which to build and or rebuild a life.

There are a variety reasons as to how and why people become homeless. There is of course an increasing problem with finding affordable housing as well as other poverty related issues. According to Crisis most men cite the reasons that they have become homeless as relationship breakdown, substance misuse and leaving an institution such as care, prison or hospital. Single women, who make up about a quarter of the clients of homelessness services are more likely to find themselves homeless as a result of physical or mental illness or after escaping a violent relationship. Whatever the reasons these are human beings and need to be seen and treated this way. They are no different to any of us. When we dehumanise one person, we dehumanise every single one of us. When we look into the eyes of a stranger we see our own eyes staring back at us.

All this got me thinking of a verse from the book of Hebrews chapter 13 V 2 "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it." Do we show hospitality to these strangers in our very midst?

Showing hospitality and caring for the vulnerable in society is a key aspect of the Judeo - Christian and Islamic traditions. You will find it deeply rooted in the Abrahamic faiths and virtually every other world religion too. Hospitality is an essential spiritual practice. It begins with an open heart and a generosity of spirit. It’s about recognising the good in life and in people, especially those who find themselves in dire circumstances. It’s about recognising ourselves in those very same people. It’s about being open and welcoming to all, where ever they have been, where ever they are going and where ever they find themselves now. Tibetan Buddhist monks great the strangers visiting their temples with “Welcome, friend, from what noble spiritual tradition do you come.” The Christian monastic tradition has a long held practise of taking in strangers and offering them sanctuary as if they were Christ, inspired by those very words from Hebrews. In so doing they are following the example of Jesus who mingled with all people, there was no one left outside the city gate, no untouchables in his eyes.

Increasingly our age is becoming characterised by distrust, there is a fear of the strange and the stranger. The idea of assisting or taking in a stranger is not something most of us would want to do and the idea that we might be entertaining an angel just seems crazy. Is it though? Who knows what gifts can emerge in such encounters. Maybe when we welcome the stranger and give them sanctuary, in whatever ways we can, what we are actually doing is liberating ourselves from the bondages of selfishness and self centredness that we create. You see when we put barriers and blockades up to keep the unpleasantness of life out all we are actually doing is cutting ourselves off from the beauty present in life.

Living with hospitality and openness is another way, a better way. No it won’t change the world but it will change our every encounter and bring the healing of sanctuary to all involved. In the words of Joan Chittister “Hospitality is the way we come out of ourselves. It is the first step toward dismantling the barriers of the world. Hospitality is the way we turn a prejudiced world around one heart at a time.” When we open our doors to those in need we open our hearts to a loving encounter and in so doing we do indeed greet angels. The angels in ourselves and the angels in the stranger.

All this talk of opening doors as well as offering welcome and hospitality has brought an ancient word into my mind, “Sanctuary”. I think the first time I heard the word was as a child watching Charles Laughton playing the “Hunchback of Notre Dam” and those immortal words “Sanctuary, sanctuary, Esmeralda you gave me water.” I think the second time was in the song by The Cult “She Sells Sanctuary”. I’m not sure I understood it then though. I have been thinking about it once again recently as I reflected on our world. “Sanctuary, who will offer shelter?” I have also been thinking of all those beautiful souls that have opened themselves to me in so many ways and given me sanctuary materially, emotionally, mentally and spirituality.

Now a sanctuary in its original meaning was a sacred place, such as a shrine. These places became safe havens for people in desperate need and fleeing persecution in medieval times. The word has developed and expanded in meaning over the centuries into a place of safety for humans and animals too. A place where we can be welcomed and made to feel at home and therefore thrive.

I like to think of my free religious tradition as a kind of sanctuary. A place where people can come and feel secure and safe as they are and then begin to thrive and grow spiritually with us. In so doing they can become sanctuaries and places of welcome and hospitality in the world. They can live with openness and give to those they meet in a loving way. For me being a Unitarian minister is about creating sanctuaries wherever I go and encouraging others to do likewise. Encouraging them to live openly and lovingly in a world that seems increasingly closed in and distrusting. It’s about encouraging people to do what they can, whatever that might be. In so doing they may well not only encounter angels, but become the angels that others encounter too.

Where can we offer hospitality and welcome in this world? Something perhaps to think about? How can we become a sanctuary? Where is the place of need in the world around? How do we begin to heal our world and offer hope and home to helpless and the hopeless? How do we welcome the stranger and encounter the angels of life? Perhaps it could begin by offering some support to the night shelter at Timperley Community Church, or similar things in your own towns and cities. That would certainly be a start and of obvious practical benefit, but it must also begin in our hearts and minds by us living more openly and lovingly, with heart filled courage. It begins with building a sanctuary in our own hearts and opening the doors to one another and greeting the stranger.

I’m going to end this chip of a "blogspot" with the following by Gordon B McKeeman “A Drop in the Bucket” taken from “Singing in the Night”

“A Drop in the Bucket”

What it says about inadequacy, futility, insignificance!
A drop in the bucket. What’s the sense? What’s the use?
We’re no longer in the center of things.

Copernicus removed the earth from the center of the solar system. Darwin removed humans from the center of the earth. Astronomy has removed the solar system from the center of the universe.

Well, who are we, then, and where are we?
Physiologists call us “weak, watery solutions, more or less jellified.”
Mark Twain said. “Man is the only animal that blushes-or needs to”
Just suppose that we are the merest drops in a bucket.

There are unspoken assumptions here.
We assume that a full bucket is what we’re aiming at and that until the bucket is full, nothing has been accomplished.

There is never a shortage of buckets. The empty bucket litany is long and tedious: racism, sexism, ableism, authoritarianism, oppression, injustice, violence, environmental degradation, overpopulation.

You feel like a drop in the bucket? Who asked you to fill the bucket - especially all alone?
Remember how many there are who share your concern. We may feel daunted, but we are not one drop. A sense of isolation is the parent of the drop-in-the-bucket feeling.

Sometimes one can decide the size of the bucket.
Don’t think you can do a large bucket? Try a smaller size. Even imparting a bit of hope - a pat on the back, a financial contribution, a few hours of volunteer service - every drop helps!

It might even be wise to remember why you need to help fill this bucket, possibly to quench the thirst of someone hard at work on a larger one.
that buckets of whatever size are filled a drop at a time. If you don’t help, it will take even longer.
that your drop may be one of the last ones needed. (Why is it that our image is of the first drop in the bucket?)
where we’d be if everybody gave up putting drops in the bucket? – probably much worse off.

Persistence depends on patience, on keeping at it when there is little to reassure us. It would be too bad to give up, to sit back, bemoan the sorry state of the world, and wonder why somebody, anybody, everybody (but not me, thank you) doesn’t do something about “it.”

After all, the Grand Canyon was fashioned by drops of water,
as ordinary as they seem.

A Guest of Life

I enjoyed a lovely time, during my week off, mainly with family both biological and none biological. Truth be told though I’ve been enjoying a good few weeks of late. I feel very connected to life, to people, at the moment. I’m looking the world, the people of the world, in the eye and smiling and do you know what they seem to be returning the favour. I feel very blessed...I’m singing joyfully and the world seems to be singing back at me...thank you...

I spent a couple of days with my brother and his family down in Middlesex; I thoroughly enjoyed our time together. This was not the case the last time I visited a couple of summers back. My brother was not in a good place back then and I found this extremely painful. This time he is much better and I feel more accepting of how he is. I have found that the hardest pain in life is that of your nearest and dearest. I suspect that this is not just because you are closer to them and therefore more invested it is also because it mirrors your own suffering. I felt quite a bit of guilt after my last visit. Why? You may well ask, well because truth be told I fled his pain and suffering. This is something I do far less than I used to but I still do so from time to time.

There's no doubt to me that the reason that I've been experiencing a deeper sense of connection these last few weeks is because some more barriers have come down. I am less afraid of life and people and therefore am generally experiencing the joy of living in my daily interactions. Through this I am witnessing the love of God manifesting in life and it is beautiful. How could it not be?

Last week was just so beautiful because I felt welcomed into so many different people’s lives. Now was this because they welcomed me or was it because I embraced the welcome? I cannot be certain; all I know is that I enjoyed my time in the company of so many people. It got me thinking about the time we spend here, our physical lives. It also got me thinking about the intimate relationships we share together.

Our time is always limited. Whether that is in the place we find ourselves or the relationships we form. We are all passing through this time and place. Nothing last forever, no person, nothing. We are all guests of this life. This is perhaps something we ought to consider when we are with one another.

Being a good guest is not as easy as it sounds; I know I’ve not always found it easy. It requires an appropriate level of intimacy between the people involved. It’s about sharing in the life of the person you are with, taking an interest in what they like; it is also about taking an interest in what causes them pain. It’s about entering their world for a short time. It’s about sharing in their loves in a genuine, open and honest way, but it’s also about sharing in their suffering.

I believe that I achieved this last week, as I shared time with people I have known all my life and others I have only known for a short time. Do you know what every moment was deeply meaningful. I also felt the same way as I was wandereing around parts of Yorkshire and Greater London and interacted with a variety of people on so many levels; sometimes merely through eye contact and at others through brief conversations.

The whole week was a delight to every sense as I indulged myself in the indulgences of others. I was a good guest and this is why it was so fulfilling; I was a good guest to the people I shared my time with and I was a good guest to life itself. I fully engaged with everything that came my way, I accepted all that was on offer. I asked for very little, I accepted what was offered and I gave thanks for every morsal.

This may just be the key you know. To ask for very little, to accept what is offered and to give thanks for whatever comes our way. I just need to remember this and when I forget to remember to listen out for the reminders all around me. I need to keep on opening my heart and listening with the ears of my heart.

Now of course there are people places and things that I would rather not listen to; things I would rather ignore, avert from my eyes, than pay attention to. There are things in this world I don’t like and do not approve of. There are actions in my nearest and dearest that I don’t agree with, there are aspects of myself that I wish were different. Should I turn from them? There are those who would say so and I have certainly done so in the past, but I try not to these days. Nobody is perfect, no one is complete, but that does not mean that they should be shunned, they should be locked outside love’s gate.

There is a passage in Luke's Gospel (Ch 18 vv 9-14) that describes a prideful Pharisee, who considers himself better than others, above everyone else. He follows the laws and commandments to the letter. In the same passage a tax collector is also described who recognises his imperfections and does not feel he is worthy of God’s love. In the passage Jesus holds up the tax collector and not the Pharisee as being the exalted one. Jesus says “For everyone that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbelth himself shall be exalted. You see the Pharisee turns from the tax collector and others who he believes are beneath him. He sees their wrongs and thus believes that unlike himself they are not worthy of God’s love. The Pharisee fails to see that by rejecting his neighbour he is also rejecting God. While he is following the laws to the letter he is breaking the "Golden Rule", to love his neighbour as himself.

There is something in this teaching, a theme repeated in the Gospels, about being a good host and good guest. It’s about accepting our humanity and the humanity of one another. It’s about love and acceptance of ourselves and one another; it’s about universal love; it’s about perfect love. I believe that the only thing we can do perfectly is love. This requires us to love all, without prejudice. In my eyes this is how the love that is God comes to life, how it incarnates.

Now of course to truly love someone requires us to get to know them and this can be both scary and at times painful. to know someone requires us to understand what a person loves and what causes them pain. There is a wonderful story told by Madeleine L’Engle in “Walking on Water”, which describes this oh so beautifully.

“(There is) a story of a Hasidic rabbi, renowned for his piety. He was unexpectedly confronted one day by one of his devoted youthful disciples. In a burst of feeling, the young disciple exclaimed, “My master, I love you!” The ancient teacher looked up from his books and asked his fervent disciple, “Do you know what hurts me, my son?”

The young man was puzzled. Composing himself, he stuttered, “I don’t understand your question, Rabbi. I am trying to tell you how much you mean to me, and you confuse me with irrelevant questions.”

“My questions is neither confusing nor irrelevant,” rejoined the rabbi, “For if you do not know what hurts me, how can you truly love me.””

Now of course we cannot know everyone in a deep and meaningful way. It takes time and effort to form intimate bonds. This is exemplified almost perfectly in an ancient Chinese proverb that says: The fifth cup of tea between friends is the best.

I believe that one purpose of religious communities is the development of intimacy, real intimacy, something that is lacking in our increasingly isolating culture. Something that modern day consumerist spirituality does not offer. It does not offer the intimate encounter that community brings. Real spirituality cannot occur in the privacy of our lives or hidden away on mountain tops it can only come to life in real lived encounters with other people. In awkward difficult encounters with people like you and me, perfectly imperfect people who know both joy and pain. In community we practise love; In community love comes to life.

The purpose of community is to welcome the stranger exactly as they are. My Unitarian traditions says that we welcome all, but I suspect we do this imperfectly. We say "come as you are exactly as you are...but don’t expect to leave in exactly the same condition." We say we accept people exactly as they are in their faith, doubt and confusion, in their joy and sadness. This is true hospitality. Welcoming the weary traveller with open arms, whoever they are and where ever they have come from. Welcoming them wholly body, mind and soul; that they leave no part of themselves at the door. All that we ask is that those welcome are good guests and hosts themselves. That they accept we as we are and others who come as they are.

To be a good guest of life is to practise perfect love, I believe it is the only thing that can be done perfectly. I have not yet achieved this myself, but I aspire to it each day. I believe that everyone of us is capable of this. Why don't you give it a try. It can begin with your next encounter. It can begin by you being both a good guest and a good host. It begins by welcoming one another into each others lives, both your joys and delights and your pains. It begins by listening with the ears of your heart and speaking the language of your heart. The language of the heart will break down every barrier...let it speak in and through you.

"What religion has done for me"

The following piece accompanies the blog on "Religion and Spirituality".Here are some thoughts on "What religion has done for me"

I did not have a particularly religious upbringing. As a teenager I cannot claim to have been anti-religious either, I just didn’t see its relevance. I have always been interested in ideas, religious ones being one of many. That said from the age of 11, until my late twenties, I was more interested in political and perhaps philosophical ideas than anything else. Religion just seemed old hat, something from the past.

I grew up in the village of Birstall, in West Yorkshire. In the market square is a statue of Joseph Priestley. Priestley is one of the two founding fathers of British Unitarianism. He was also a major figure in its development in America. I attended the same school that he did, Batley Grammar. Of course we all knew about him but as a scientist, but not as a radical minister of religion. I never once remember any mention of this, as we were growing up. Although perhaps it was mentioned and the reason that it failed to register with me was because I just was not interested. We knew of Priestley the scientist, the man who discovered oxygen and invented soda water...or as we would often say “The man who invented oxygen”.

Throughout most of my life I had very little interest in religion. I was an agnostic who was verging on atheism, although I never quite took the leap of absolute disbelief. My late teens and early twenties were a mixture of hedonism, dark music and left wing politics. I was in a band and we thought we were going to change the world, oh the arrogance of youth. Meanwhile I worked in the civil service. In my mid twenties I came to Manchester and gained a degree in Politics and Modern History and soon after started work as a free-lance historian. It was during this time that Mr Priestley reared his head once again, due to his political radicalism. I hasten to add that even then I paid no attention to his religion.

This all began to change between the years 2002 and 2004 as things changed within me and my experiences of life external to me. This was brought on by my acceptance of and recovery from alcoholism. It was around this time that I began to experience what I know today as God. I had a life changing spiritual experience, I can think of no better way of describing what happened. As a result I began to explore different religions and spiritual groups. I discovered Unitarianism, almost by accident really, but became immediately interested. I soon discovered that there were congregations locally and after a bit more research I began attending Cross Street Chapel, in Manchester.

 I can still remember the first service I attended, led by Rev John Midgley, it spoke powerfully to me. I also remember the warmth of the greeting that the handful of folk in attendance extended to me. I can still feel Peter Sampson's handshake as he passed me the hymn book, and gently spoke to me.

I enjoyed every aspect of congregational life; getting to know people first within the congregation and eventually further afield. I spent months bending John’s ear about everything, as I did with most people. I joined the choir and an R.E. group and just became part of the place. I felt cared for, I felt loved and I felt welcomed.

Hospitality has to be the key to true religion, in practice.  One of my favourite hymns is “All Are Welcome Here” it reads “All are welcome here...all are welcome to seek in spite of fear...to open wide to all our hearts...for all are welcome here.” To me this is the whole point of religion, to build communities of love that encourage that search for understanding and meaning, that search beyond the confines of our limited individual selves. I have certainly found that to be true of my chosen Unitarian faith, at its best at least; it encourages each of us as individuals to continue that search but to do so together, unconstrained. I felt welcomed and I was listened to during my time at Cross Street. I found a religious community where I could be myself, but not in isolation; I am certain I would not, could not have discovered so much alone. I did not realise then just how much I would need that community...

I was at work on Thursday morning, November 2^nd 2006 to be precise, when I received a phone call from my dearest friend Claire. She told me her son Ethan had been killed on his way to school. I immediately left and went to Manchester Royal Infirmary. I loved Claire and Ethan more than anybody in the world, but today is not a time to talk about that. John my minister came to the hospital to be with us and the family and held us in prayer over Ethan’s broken little body. He was there for us over the next few months. I will never forget all that he did.

I left the hospital later that day and felt utterly alone and lost. Claire had gone with her family and Luke (Ethan’s dad) had gone with his family. John also had to go. So what did I do? Well the first thing I did was pray. That was not enough though I needed to be with people. So I rang up some of the Cross Street folk. Well several of them just happened to be up at our Oldham Chapel, I made my way there and spent the rest of the day with these people. They listened to me, fed me and looked after me. This continued over the next months and year really as I came to terms with everything, while attempting to be there for Claire. The people of my community were able to be there, in an unobtrusive manner while I came to terms with the horrors of all that had happened. I took some time off work and spent a lot of time with these different people. They loved me when I really needed it. I do not believe I would have come through it on my own. I am sure I would have survived I am just not so sure I would have done so without  hardening my heart. They helped me keep my heart open.

It was coming to terms with all of this that drew me into ministry. I wanted to be part of and to attempt to build a community of loving compassion, of true hospitality that attempts to hold people and allow them to be who they really are in every aspect of life. At least that was and is my ambition.

I have been minister to the  good folk of Altrincham and Urmston for over a year and I feel that we have got to know one another quite well. From the outset I made it a priority of mine to spend time talking, but above all else listening, to them. During the worship we have shared I have encouraged openness by allowing them to get to know me. Worship for me must always speak the language of the heart and not just feed the intellect. This may well have been a challenge for some folk, but was a deliberate decision on my part in an attempt to give those present permission to be open with me. I have spent time with everyone connected with both congregations, visiting them in their own homes and talking with them about many things. This has been a real treasure to me, personally. We have some real gems hidden away in our congregations. I cannot begin to express how deeply moved I have been by what people have shared with me. Virtually every conversation has been littered with moving stories of love, of pain, of grief and of faith. I have heard some of the most incredible tales of personal spiritual experience, something I have an interest in. I have rarely left someone’s home without feeling that my life has been enhanced by the time we have just shared. I have felt welcomed into the lives of the people within both communities and for that I am profoundly grateful.

“Listen with the ear of your heart”, has become my mantra. It comes from “The Rule of Benedict” a set of ancient principles for monastic orders, followed by many Christian and some Buddhist communities today. The foundation of the rule is listening, deep attentive listening. It begins, “listen carefully, my child, to the instructions...and attend to them with the ear of your heart “. What is required is deep listening, a concept proposed, in contemporary times, by the Dalai Lama.

To me this is the whole point of religion; to be an environment that encourages us to listen, to one another and to the voice of transcendence that speaks through all and yet beyond life. Just think of the blind men and the elephant. Maybe just maybe if they had listened to one another they may have got a better idea of what an elephant was really like, instead of just grasping in the dark trying to make sense of the little bit that they were able to get a hold of.

It’s more than that though. The real purpose of religious community is to offer a place of love, support and above all else compassion as we walk through the journey of our lives. We cannot possibly experience that if we journey alone. I want and need to journey with others and I am no longer ashamed to admit this.

Religion has done an awful lot for me.