Tell me your story and I will tell you mine: Good speech, Godsibb and Gossip

Last Monday 2^nd February was “Groundhog Day”. Sorry, but it is bad news, “Punxsutawney Phil” saw his shadow. This means 6 more weeks of winter. Do not worry this is Pennsylvania, so it may not apply to we in the North West of England. We shall see.

Last Monday morning was a bit like Groundhog Day the movie as I went through many usual Monday activities. There was a slight twist as I met with a couple who are getting married at Dunham Road. We talked through the service, which is fairly traditional with one or two twists, just to make it personal. It was a wonderful conversation, getting to know these two wonderful people, there was much humour shared. I also went through one or two or my usual Monday rituals. After catching up with emails and posting my blog etc I took Molly out into Altrincham and through to the park. On the way Molly insisted on calling into Café Nero. She loves the place and obviously knows I need a coffee before walking round the park. I had a fascinating conversation with the manager their Keiran. He is a breeder of exotic fish, a growing business for him. He told me he has 1,000 fish tanks now. He also tried to play a trick on me telling me they were having a minutes silence. I know he is a joker so I didn’t fall for it. I told him that we do not have a minutes silence for “Groundhog Day”. We then talked about “Groundhog Day”. He expressed a hope that winter would soon be over.

We then headed to the park and saw the same people I often see when I go there. We nod and say hello and sometimes talk. I got into a conversation with a woman who is there every day and who I rarely get into a conversation with. Whenever we do it is as if we are speaking for the first time, symptomatic of something I am growing familiar with. She told me about her family, her son and grandchildren, all high achievers. We talked about her dog who is the same breed and as my sister’s dog Brian. She then started calling Molly Brian and then she wandered off after I had given her dog and Molly a treat. By the way we also talked about the weather and the desire for Spring. I told her it was “Groundhog Day” , at which point she looked at me like I was mad. As we continued to wander I got chatting to a man and his dog. We always talk when we meet one another. He has a grand dog named Ruby who is a labradoodle. We chatted about our dogs and the weather. I then said it is “Groundhog Day” and we will find out if winter is ending or whether we have six more weeks of it. I then said but it doesn’t really apply as we don’t live in Pennsylvania. He told me his parents used to live there and the winters were never too bad, except for a couple of weeks. They now live in Quebec he told me where the winters are far more extreme. He then showed me a conversation he had with his mother talking about the weather. He asked me if I was always there at this time and I said I come at varied times. I chuckled as I walked off and thought well maybe it isn’t Groundhog Day.

On the way home I bumped into a couple of friends. Both of whom told me about concerns for friends who are being treated for cancer. One seems hopeful the other not so much. I have had several such conversations all week long. Some of which sound like a long winter ahead and others showing signs of spring.

I have been thinking of conversations all week long. Conversations and how our lives are made up of the stories we tell. The stories we tell about ourselves and our lives. On Wednesday I conducted the funeral of Jim Hill. The Hill family have been a part of the Queens Road congregation for several generations. Afterwards I talked with folk who I have known for many years now. We shared our stories and our concerns I also saw several children whose Child blessing service I have conducted. I thought of their stories and their familys stories. I also remembered Alison, Jim’s sister telling the story, on a Zoom service during Covid, when we were joined by Rev Peter Godfrey who had been minister to the congregation in 1950’s and 60’s. I will never forget the delight in her voice and on her face as she saw Peter and reminded him that she was the first child he had Baptised. This is one of those stories I love to tell. The circle of life and of love.

Another friend told me of her ex-partner had being diagnosed with cancer this week. This brought me back to the formation story that led me into ministry. A story of sorrow that I have to tell when folk ask me why I became a minister. He and his family have been in my heart and prayers ever since.

The stories of live. Stories of love, of life and of death. The circle of life.

Our lives are made up of all kinds of stories, that tell us who we are. We connect with one another through the telling of these stories. We all have our stories and we love to hear stories. I was reminded this week of a character I created during “lockdown” Cap’N Dan. Everyday I told a classic tale and recorded it on camera. Many people watched the stories, both young and old. The stories helped people through a difficult time, both children and adults. A friend told me that the stories both entertained and fed both him and his children. His children would probably be embarrassed now, as they are 5 or 6 years older. That said these stories are a part of their life. They helped to both feed and connect them and others.

Our lives are made up of stories.

The author Phillip Pulman has said of stories “After nourishment, shelter and companionship, stories are the thing we need most in the world.” I would suggest that in some ways stories give us nourishment, shelter and companionship in a none material sense.

Anthony DeMello wrote...

The Master gave his teaching in parables and stories, which his disciples listened to with pleasure — and occasional frustration, for they longed for something deeper.

The Master was unmoved. To all their objections he would say, "You have yet to understand, my dears, that the shortest distance between a human being and Truth is a story."

We all have our stories and no doubt those that know us have stories to tell about us. It’s interesting that when a person tells a story about you their perception and memory will reveal something of how they see you and know you. It reveals as much about the storyteller as the person they are telling the story about.

I have been thinking of stories, the ones we share when we meet and speak with each other. Whether they be strangers, close friends and or folk you see from time to time. I wonder what stories they will tell of us.

It matters the stories we tell of one another. We all speak of one another we share our tales. It matters the tales that we tell. The words we share. The way we gossip about one another and life.

Gossip is one of those words that has changed in meaning over time. There can be good gossip and bad gossip. It not so much the way we speak about one another but it’s intent, it’s meaning. It matters how we speak about others and how we listen to what others say to us about people. Malicious gossip can be very destructive. That said sharing concern for others and singing their praises can add to the loving creation.

The word “gossip” is derived from words for God and sibling. It originally meant “akin to God”. “God-Sibb” describing a person you were connected to in spiritual kinship, either a sponsor or God parent. When we share stories of one another in such a spirit we are connecting together in shared love and concern. I have shared a week of being engaged mostly in “God-Sibb”, although not always I have occasionally spoken unskilfully, not from this spirit.

Like a lot of words sadly the word gossip only has negative connotations. In fact, it means the exact opposite to its original meaning. It seems more akin to separation than connection. Gossip as we understand it these days is often deeply destructive.

The way we speak with and of one another can connect us, but it can also separate us; words are incredibly powerful things. Words can begin to bring deep healing or can be deeply destructive. What matters is the intention behind them. What seems to matter is the condition of our heart and soul as we speak what we must speak. It is the meaning behind the words that seems to matter the most.

Words are powerful they can be either destructive or creative. Perhaps an example of “words” creative power comes at the beginning of John’s Gospel and the following lines:

'In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God.
The same was in the beginning with God.
All things were made by him; and without him was not anything made that was made.'

According to John the spoken word can literally create life, in fact all life. Now of course in the original Greek, which these opening words were written in, the word for “Word” was “Logos”, which roughly translated actually does not mean merely a “word,” but also “speech,” “principle,” “meaning” or “thought.” In Greek philosophy, it is also referred to as Divine Reason or the Mind of God. So, it could mean God speaking life into being, linking it to the first verses from Genesis when God is said to have breathed life into being, remembering always that he saw this creation as “Good”. So “word” here means, in my view at least, that life is the meaning coming into being and Jesus is the example of this in human form. An example we can all aspire to. For we can all incarnate Love, we can all be a part of the Divine creation. It begins in our words and how we say these words for they are an expression of our meaning. It also begins in how we listen to others. Our ability for each to share, an open loving invitation. This is Divine activity. This space between us is the Kin-dom of Love. Conversation can be a Divine activity; the sharing of stories can be Divine activity, if engaged in in a loving spirit.

When we speak we are not merely flapping our lips, vibrating air we are engaged in Divine activity we are creating or destroying life. It is the same with listening. If we listen with ears of heart we are creating sacred space, thus creating the Kin-dom of Love.

So, it is not just about what we say, the words we use, but the meaning behind them. This brings a whole deeper meaning to the phrase “The word (Logos, meaning the Meaning), became flesh and dwelt amongst us.” We embody our meaning through the words we use and how we use these words.

What we say and the meaning behind our language really matters. Our words are our meaning. It is not just about the words we use, but the meaning behind them. It can be deeply creative or destructive.

Ursula K Le Guin the great 20^th century novelist wrote:

“Words are events, they do things, change things. They transform both speaker and hearer; they feed energy back and forth and amplify it. They feed understanding or emotion back and forth and amplify it,”

Words express our meaning and they amplify the meaning of our society and culture. This is why the meaning of words change over time. Remember Logos meant both word and meaning and yet in the English translation of the Bible it is always translated as word and not meaning.

It matters the words we use and the meaning behind them. It matters how we engage with one another. It matters the conversations that we have with each other and ourselves. It matters the stories we tell of one another and of life. It matters.

The way we speak with and of one another can connect us, but it can also separate us; words are incredibly powerful things. Words can begin to bring deep healing or can be deeply destructive. What matters is the intention behind them. What matters is the condition of our heart and soul as we speak what we must speak. It is the meaning behind the words that seems to matter the most. Do we speak as siblings that connect or enemies that separate.

It matters you know, it really does.

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

Living by Devotion: Devoted to Life

The last blog ended with a question Awakening to the hundred ways to kneel and kiss the ground. It came from a poem by Rumi, what might it mean for you to “kneel and kiss the ground?” It came from the following verse:

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty
and frightened. Don’t open the door to the study
and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are a hundred ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

I have been thinking of these words all week. They speak of what it might mean to live by devotion and to be devoted to life. I was told after the service that the "blogspot" was based on, by Barbara a member at one the congregations I serve, that the instrument is our own human being, our body, which is of course the instrument through which we devote ourselves to life. My sister Mandy also responded to this question with the following:

“I love this permission that allows us to give praise through ’doing what we love! I like these simple words too":

Praise is to see blessings
There are three kinds of thanksgiving.
The most praiseworthy is to thank goodness for the presence of existence.
The second is to praise trouble.
The last one is to accept unconditionally whatever comes…

She added “I suppose it is saying in a nutshell that we should celebrate life.”

She got the idea from a series she had seen on Netflix about “Yunus Emre” who was a Turkish poet and Sufi mystic.

This all got me thinking about what it might mean to live by devotion to devote oneself to life and how this might be achieved, for surely this is the ultimate way to celebrate life, in its entirety; to sing the joy of living in all its mystery.

As I was responding to our Mand’s post the following by Mark Nepo appeared on my Facebook feed. It speaks powerfully to me of what it means to live devotionally, to make your whole life a prayer

“At Every Turn” by Mark Nepo

When I sweat trying to lift
what no one can lift,
I am praying.

When I fly 1000 miles to be
stopped by the moon on the
spine of an ancient mountain,
I am praying.

When I fall on the lawn in laughter
with my dog and she won’t stop
licking my face,
I am praying.

When you are winded by the light
on the photo of your mother
who died so suddenly,
you are praying.

When your grief lets you feel the
pain of those you don’t know,
you are praying.

When life moves through us
for no reason,
we are all praying.

I am humbled that all my efforts
to pray have failed, until
living is praying
with no intent.

Now, my heart is plucked
like the string of a harp
at every turn.

It is through our bodies, our whole human being that we pray, that we offer our devotion to life. If we live devotionally, we are offering a prayer to life itself; if we live with reverence for life itself we are offering a prayer of love to life itself. The object of The General Assembly od Unitarian and Free Christian Churches refers to the worship of God and the celebration of life, among many other things. It is perhaps strange to admit but over time I have found that, in actually fact, I worship life and by doing so I celebrate God, that which is to me the core of all life. I am devoted to life.

Now devotion comes in many shapes and forms. The word “Devotion” is derived from the Latin “devitio” meaning vow or total dedication. It is more than an act that is repeated, devotion speaks of passion, commitment and love. Devotion has a fire to it. Devotion is about both worship and celebration. What is it that you are devoted to?

Devotion can come in many forms The great traditions offer a treasure trove of devotional acts, the most obvious being prayer. Prayer means many things to different people and has done so throughout the ages. You may find yourself praying without even realising it. In its physical sense prayer can mean many things for each tradition. While a Christian may bow their heads and fold their hands, a Sufi may well whirl and a native American may will dance. A Buddhist may well sit quietly in a particular position, while a Hindu may well offer a sacrifice. Jewish and Muslim prayers are quite physical. A Jewish person while praying will bob their heads back and forth while a Muslim will physically prostate themselves. Prayers are not just about silence and spoken words, they can be deeply physical in nature.

I have a found and developed a form of two way prayer, over the last few years. I lead a regular “Singing Meditation”, at Dunham Road and love to take it around with me. It was recently suggested that it is a strange way to describe a devotional practise.

Last week Sue and myself were interviewed for a piece about our upcoming wedding in the local newspaper. Messenger Article During the interview we spoke of how our feelings grew over months of sharing in this devotional practice. The interviewer just couldn’t understand how you could both sing and meditate at the same time. We tried to explain, but realised our explanation was falling on deaf ears (It would seem that this element did not make it into the final article). The thing is to me “Singing Meditation” is the ultimate form of two way prayer. We sing out a variety of devotional words and then we sit and listen in reverential humility. It is the most beautiful form of devotion I have ever been involved in. It would seem that Julia, the interviewer from the Messenger, just didn’t get it. We did and certainly love worked its magic as we sang and shared silence together.

Singing may actually be the ultimate in devotional practise. I believe it was Augustine of Hippo who said that singing is praying twice. Now I’m not one to agree with Augustine, all the time, in fact rarely to be honest, but here I do. When I am singing I feel closer to the divine than in most other activities I engage with. Singing for me is a deeply mindful activity.

Devotion can take many forms and should not be seen necessarily as a solemn activity, done in isolation. Yes we can close ourselves away and pray in isolation as Jesus suggested we should, but it’s not essential. Neither do we have to necessarily use words when we are praying, every activity we engage in can be a form of prayer.

In the Japanese Shinto tradition prayers and blessings are calliagraphed on paper streamers and tied to the branches of trees and bushes. As the streamers wave in the wind the blessings then fly out over the world. In Tibet prayers are carved into wooden band wheels which are spun like a top sending the prayers up into the sky. Sometimes the wheels are positioned in a stream so that the current of the water spins the wheels and the prayers are then carried off without the need of human assistance. Sue and I have just been given some "Prayer Flags" as a wedding gift by a lovely couple John and Sue who attend a group I facilitated at the Urmston congregation I serve.

"Prayer Flags" by New Model Army

One of the five pillars of Islamic practice is to pray facing Mecca five times every day, here it’s not so much the words but the direction of the prayers that matter. During the middle ages monastic orders, that took vows of silence, considered work done by the hands as a form of prayer – therefore everything that was done in life was considered a prayer to God. This seems very similar to the mindfulness practiced by Zen Buddhist – in which every action is practiced with deep attention.

Devotion for me is about finding and giving a voice to my human experience. To repeat something I shared in the last "blogspot", in the words of Rheinhold Neibuhr “Prayer does not change things; prayer changes people, and people change things...Prayer is not hearing voices, prayer is acquiring a voice.” This is what it means to live by devotion, to be devoted to life. Every aspect of life has the potential to be a devotional practice, especially if what you worship is life itself, as I see it. For the Sufi’s every bodily movement has the potential to be a devotional practice if offered in love. You see everything that we do, everything we see, or hear, or touch or taste, or smell can become a devotional practise if you practice in a loving spirit. Social justice work, for others and or for the planet is perhaps the ultimate in devotion to life, the perfect prayer. As Dorothy Day put it “I believe some people – lots of people- pray through the witness of their lives. Through the work they do, the friendships they have, the love they offer people and receive from people.” This is living by devotion, to be devoted to life.

Devotion, making of your life a prayer, is the key to unlock our true human potential. It allows us to become all that we were born to be, to making our matter really matter.

Live by devotion, become devoted to life. Let your life be your prayer. Whether that be your devotional practices or just the way that you act with friends and loved ones. Whether it be the reflective pause before you do or say anything, or a quiet time at some point in the day, whether it be dancing or singing around your kitchen , a social gathering, a concert,  or in a place of worship. Whatever it may be let all that you say and do reflect all that you would hope your life to be. Open your selves up to every encounter in every moment and you will bring to life the divine within you and in every aspect of your life.

Live by devotion, become devoted to life. May your life become your prayer, make it your highest calling, devote yourself to life so that your life may become a prayer.

Let your life be your prayer.

"The Weather"

Good or bad: Maybe, maybe not...Let's wait and see...

“Oh it’s an awful day, truly dreadful.” I wonder how many times I have heard these words uttered. I heard it several times last Sunday. I heard it as folk arrived for worship. I heard it as I chatted with people at the gym and heard it from several friends that evening. Now granted these friends are members of a walking group and it had been pretty wild last Sunday. It certainly didn’t feel like the beginning of spring.

It is said that we British are obsessed with the weather. Oscar Wilde said that conversation about the weather was “the last refuge of the unimaginative”. Bill Bryson, that great observer of this nation, noted that the most striking characteristic of British weather is that there “ain’t much of it.” None British people are puzzled, it seems, at our obsession with talking about the weather. I’ve lost count of the number of storm warnings over the last few weeks and yet if truth be told none of them were severe in comparison to other parts of the world. And yet we never stop talking about the weather. In a recent survey 94% of respondents admitted to having talked about the weather in the past six hours while 38% admitted to doing so in the last hour. Which means according to social anthropologist Kate Fox who performed the study in 2010 for her book “Watching the English” “…at almost any moment in England, at least a third of the population is either talking about the weather, has already done so or is about to do so.”

We British are obsessed with the weather. How many times have you talked about it already today? When was the last time you did so?

Please don’t get me wrong I’m not suggesting that there is anything wrong in this. I actually think it is lovely way for people to connect. The problem isn’t so much that we talk about the weather. No the problem I see is something else. It’s the way that we divide our conversation into “good” and “bad”. We talk about “good” and “bad” weather. It seems to me that we do this with all aspects of life. We divide life into “good” and “bad” and we do it with people too.

How often do we hear the phrase “There are two types of people in this world?” Well there aren’t there are people and people. We are all made of the same stuff, we have the same spirit within us. Dividing up people into different camps helps no one and in my view it is this that leads to the evil that we do to one another, it is this that justifies so many of the wrongs we have commit against one another. When we look into one another’s eyes do we really see someone other than ourselves? Do we really see a different type of person?

Yet we all do it. I do it, I’m no different to anyone else. We all have our scapegoats those we blame for our troubles or life’s troubles. It is not just with people and weather that we do this either, we do it with good fortune and with fate. We talk about good luck and we talk about bad luck.

Of all the stories I’ve told in my time as minister, the one that people seem to remember the most, the one that folk have told back to me more than any other is the following one on good luck and bad luck. A story that the people I serve physically tell back to me by lifting one or the other shoulder. Here it is…

“Let’s Wait and See”

There's an excellent Taoist tale of a farmer who has a balanced view of life. This view often confuses those around him that expect him to react or behave according to the "norm".

The story goes that an old farmer is working hard in the fields. He has a wife and a son, and ekes out a meagre living. One day, his only horse runs away. Upon hearing this, his neighbours comment "Oh, how awful! That is terrible! Such bad news!" to this the farmer replied:

"Maybe, maybe not. Let's wait and see."

A few days later, the farmer's horse returns and with it is another, exotic horse from far away. The horse is a mare, and is of rare value. The neighbours, upon hearing this, exclaim "How wonderful! It's fantastic that your horse returned and brought another horse with it! Such good news!". The farmer shrugged and said:

"Maybe, maybe not. Let's wait and see."

"The farmer's horses gave him many young, prized colts making the farmer very wealthy in the town. The neighbours were very happy for the farmer saying; "This is so fantastic! Your new horses have brought you much fortune! Such good news!" The farmer responded:

"Maybe, maybe not. Let's wait and see"

The farmer's son, now a young man, tried to tame one of the young colts and was thrown from the horse, breaking his hip. This left the son unable to walk. The neighbours came to help and tried to console the farmer saying; "Oh, how awful! Your only son will never walk again! Such bad news!". The farmer, who was not upset, simply said:

"Maybe, maybe not. Let's wait and see"

Later that year, the farmer's country went to war, and the army came by to conscript every able bodied man for duty. The farmer was too old to be taken, and his son could not walk, therefore he was excused. The army simply took the farmer's horses, leaving him just his original horse to allow him to keep farming.

Was the farmer's life good? Maybe. Was the farmer's life bad? Maybe not.

Good luck and bad luck are two sides of the same coin...it really depends on the perspective that we choose to view in any given situation.

“Good” and “bad” are aspects of all life and each and every person. Sometimes what we see as “good” and “bad” turn out to be the very opposite. It’s the same with people. There are not two types of people that we divide into “good” and “bad” camps. There is simply one type of person. Division and divisiveness are very dangerous things indeed. Where on earth do we draw the line?

It matters how we speak about life, it matters how speak about one another and it matters how we speak about ourselves. By saying this is “good” and this is “bad” and standing in this judgement we are creating a wall between aspects of ourselves and aspects of each other. This creates division both within ourselves and each other. What we need is reconciliation. We and all life is formed from the same source, we cannot separate any aspect of it from another.  We need to learn to create the environment when the lion and lamb can lie down together. Both the lion and the lamb within ourselves, but also the lion and the lamb in each other and all life.

Our world really needs this now. We seem to live in ever more dividing and divisive times. Our world needs healing and I believe it is the task of free religious communities to take the lead in this. It is up to us and it begins with us, in our own hearts and in our own communities. For it we get this right we can begin to bring healing and reconciliation to our wider world. It begins with how we engage with one another and with life. It begins with how we view life, maybe it begins with how we even view the weather. Maybe it begins by stopping seeing the weather as “good” or “bad”, and simply see it as weather.

The spiritual life is not a passive life. How we live in the world really matters. How we see life, how we see ourselves and how we see one another really matters. How we speak about life, how we speak about ourselves and how we speak about one another really matters. We impact on life constantly we are not just blown and battered by life. We can set our sails and even gain mastery of the elements if we take care our sails. We are not powerless in life and our lives are not meaningless. It is important that what we actually do is recognise our power and responsibility. To truly pay attention to how we impact on life and one another. To live spiritually is to take responsibility and to fully live our lives. We are not all powerful of course not, but we are an important part of the whole and our world needs us to recognise this and to play our part fully in life.

We need to fully recover our true identity, we need to recognise our interconnectedness we need to awaken our true sense of self and embrace fully our being and our inter-being with each other and all life in reverence, in love and in care. In so doing we will begin to embrace an attitude that is an antidote to separating life into “good” and into “bad”, into “them” and “us”

If we do we can begin to create the environment where the lion does indeed begin to lay down with the lamb.

It is up to us. For this we are all responsible.

Groundhog Day: Possibly the most spiritual film ever made?

I was "ligged out" relaxing watching the darts final and chatting with folk on facebook last Sunday evening. The snow had just begun to fall, the first of winter as far as I can recall. A couple of people began to comment on the weather and then the barrage came; people posting comments complaining about people posting comments about the weather. In fact there was more complaining about people talking about the weather than people actually talking about the weather...There really is “Nowt as queer as folk”

I noted two great British obsessions at play, talking about the weather and complaining about other people. In fact you could say I’m falling into the trap myself I’m complaining about people who complain about people who complain or merely obsess about the weather...funny really isn’t it.

We do like to complain about the weather though don’t we? Heaven knows why because we do not suffer the meteorological extremes that people in other countries do. Maybe this is why; maybe we talk about it so much, because our weather is oh so bland.

I’ve felt a deepening sense of connection these last few days. I’m not sure what this is about. I do know that in and of itself it is not new, I just seem to be more aware of it at the moment. This is a good sign and evidence of how awake to life I am at the moment. I believe that this is a vital quality for a worship leader or anyone attempting to communicate thoughts, feelings, experiences to others. Robert Walsh expresses oh so eloquently what I mean in the following...“I moved through the experience with my attention alternating between the present moment and a future time, when I would be back home, telling the story. It’s what preachers call homiletic consciousness, which means going through life thinking, Can I use this in a sermon? But it’s not just preachers who do it. I imagine a painter would do the same. Or a poet. Or a novelist, teacher, composer, or a storyteller – anyone who uses the experiences of life in order to give something to someone else.” This is precisely what I was doing as I lay observing my friends commenting about life. It is seemingly my souls purpose.

I went for a haircut on Monday morning and as I sat in the chair letting the man get on with his craft it came to me what I wanted to explore this week “Groundhog Day”. Now I’m sure the seed was planted over Christmas as I watched Bill Murray in Scrooge. It developed as I watched the snow fall and listened to folk complain about the weather. So as I sat in the chair and considered the last time I sat in the very same chair and had the same conversation etc and as I thought about the week ahead the phrase “Groundhog day” rose up out of my soul and cried out to be expressed. How could I resist it?

Now if truth be told we are a bit early for this. Groundhog Day is not until the 2^nd of February, not that it is something that we mark in Britain. Here, depending on our spiritual tradition we may well mark Candlemass, Imbolc or St Brigid’s Day.

Groundhog Day falls in the dead of winter, flanked equally on either side by the winter solstice and the spring equinox. According to folklore if the groundhog sees his shadow on this day there will be six more weeks of snow. So the hope is that he does not see his shadow. And this is why it was on my mind. Last week’s news was full of stories that a big freeze was on the way, that we were going to endure weeks of frozen temperatures and falling snow. We shall see, I tend not to go for fear mongering myself, although we have had quite a bit of snow these last few days. We shall see.

It is not the legend of Groundhog Day that really interests me, more the film that bares the same name. It is one of my favourites and may well be one of the most spiritual ever made. That sounds like quite a bold statement for what is, on the surface at least, a Hollywood romantic comedy.

“Groundhog Day” tells the story of a self centred weatherman named Phil. At the beginning of the film he is sent on his annual excursion to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to record the "thrilling" moment when Phil the Groundhog makes his annual winter trek into sunlight in search of the shadowy predictor for the coming weeks. Phil (weatherman) hates the fact that he has to be there and treats everyone he meets in “the hick town”, with disdain. The film crew find themselves stuck in town, as the weather takes a turn for the worst, so they are forced to spend another night there.

Phil awakens the next morning to the same song he heard the day before “I Got you Babe” by Sonny and Cher, he is to awaken to this every morning as “Groundhog Day” is repeated over and over again for days, weeks, months, years. Every day is the second of February; every day is the same day; every day he is offered the opportunity to experience that same Groundhog Day over and over again, running into the same people, having the same encounters. Within those very same limitations he is offered infinite choices. Where he can eat, how he can respond to each encounter, who he can hurt and who he can help. He is offered the opportunity to grow and to change every single day; he is offered the opportunity to become the man he wants to be every single day. He can be the bad guy or the good guy, the funny guy, the happy guy, the free guy or the trapped, the suicidal guy. He is offered the chance to change which he begins to do, as he learns from his mistakes. He learns that he cannot control all that is going on around him and that happiness can only be found by truly living in what is there, the sacred moment. His inspiration is his producer Rita (played by Andie Mcdowell) she is the opposite of Phil, good hearted and at peace with herself. Phil falls in love with who Rita is, he awakens to the longing to be a person worthy of her love and he begins to allow himself to be that person.

Within this Hollywood romantic comedy we see those same universal messages found within the mythos’ of the great faiths? That love can transform even the most self centred of hearts and that we can all aspire to be the best that we can be. That hope can be found in total despair and that you do not need to seek it in some special place, it is to be found in the ordinary everyday things of life.

So could it be that this Hollywood Romantic comedy is the most “spiritual” film ever made? Well Harold Ramis the films co-writer and director has said that religious leaders and writers have continually contacted him over the last twenty years claiming that “Groundhog Day” is an allegory of their traditions key messages. Buddhist have claimed that it illustrates their notion of Samsara, the continuing cycle of re-birth. Phil (The weatherman) is seen as the Bodhisattva who keeps on being sent back into the world in order to save it; that he keeps on going through his personal trials, failing to reach enlightenment each time, in order to help others.

Jewish observers have made similar claims noting that Phil keeps on being sent back into the world to perform Mitzvah’s (good deeds). They claim that the story is not really about his individual salvation it is more about perfecting the whole world.

Still others have claimed Christian and Pagan interpretations. It has been suggested that the groundhog symbolises re-birth and the hope of renewal at Easter or spring. It is worth remembering that the 2^nd of February is Imbolc and Candlemass, key festivals in both traditions. The story is also a classic redemption tale, very much like a Christmas Carol. My thinking about this film started as I watched Bill Murray play a modern version of the Dickens character in “Scrooged”.

Groundhog Day is a favourite film of mine, if you haven’t seen it I heartily recommend it to you it will warm you through on a cold winters night, especially if the cold snap continues. I do not know if it is "the most spiritual film ever made", that is quite a claim. that said it does seem to contain all the key messages, of the great universal mythos's, of the great traditions. I think it's real power comes in the fact that this message is found in the least likely of places a Hollywood romantic comedy. Perhaps this is why it works so well?

I am going to leave the last words to Bill Murray’s character Phil. Words he eventually said while signing off at the end of his final broadcast.

He said: “When Chechov saw the long winter, it was a winter bleak and dark and bereft of hope; and yet we know winter’s only one more step in the cycle. And standing among the people of Punxsutawney basking in the warmth of their hearths and hearts, I couldn’t imagine a better fate than a long and lustrous winter."