The Missing Piece: Practising Imperfection

Please watch this clip before reading the rest of the blog...

Ring the bells that still can ring,

Forget your perfect offering.

There is a crack, a crack in everything,

That's how the light gets in.

Leonard Cohen

I love this story by Shel Silverstone. I really relate to it as I’m sure many others can too. It can be understood in many ways and I’m sure people take something different from it. What fascinates me about is this search, this struggle for completeness, this drive for wholeness and yet when it happens, when the piece is found that creates the perfect circle it does not bring happiness at all. In fact the circle rolls on at an ever increasing pace. So much so that it can no longer sing; it can no longer sing its little song nor can it appreciate all that surrounds it; it could no longer talk to the worm, or smell a flower, the butterflies could no longer land on it. Eventually it saw that it was no longer happy in its completeness, because it could no longer appreciate and or relate to life. So it rejects the missing piece and continues on imperfectly and once again begins singing its song.

"Oh I'm looking for my missin' piece
I'm looking for my missin' piece.
Hi-dee-ho, here I go,
Lookin' for my missin' piece."

Like everyone it didn’t really learn his lesson, it’s still looking for whatever will complete it.

There is a fear that haunts so many of us; it’s certainly taken its toll on me over the years. This is the fear of criticism. It can squeeze the life out of us and stop us doing whatever it may be that we want and need to do in life. I have often been held back myself, less so today, but it still lingers. It’s part of being human I suppose.

I was talking with a friend on the other day who had got herself in a bit of a "tizzy". She was starting a new job the next day and had basically driven herself mad in her attempts to prepare for it. She bought a new computer program to practise because she wasn’t sure she’d be up to the job and all kinds of other things. She wanted to be perfectly prepared for her first day and was terrified she would not make the perfect first impression. She had sought advice from all kinds of people and had desperately tried to download the program but it had gone horribly wrong. To calm herself she had practised what seemed like hours of meditation, but to no avail. In the end she stopped and realised that what she needed to do was to be with people, to sit with people and to simply say I can’t do this on my own. Within ten minutes of her simply sharing her troubles, it didn’t seem so bad at all. She had calmed down and realised that all would be well, she just needed to get a good night sleep and step into the new place of work the very next day.

The conversation brought to mind similar experiences in my life. A friend recently reminded me that I vowed I would never drive. Truth be told I only actually learnt because I had to. Now I can come up with a thousand and one reasons why I never learned, but the truth is I was terrified. I never thought I would have the right kind of co-ordination. Not true, it turned out; I got there in the end. It was a hard slog, a painful slog, but I got there in the end. I remember when I was learning I drove myself almost mad with anxiety as I got ready to begin my lesson. Each week I tried a different pair of shoes or trainers, the ones that would give the best feel on the clutch. After about 10 weeks I reckon I stumbled on the perfect ones. Truth be told, on reflection, I had probably just about learned about clutch control by this time. Each week I would spend an hour in prayer and meditation trying to get over the anxiety, which never really subsided. The only real cure was walking in the park and connecting to life. After about twenty weeks, the fear seemed to subside, as I found I could actually handle the car.

I did eventually pass my test and have been driving for over three years now. I’m never going to be Nigel Mansell, but I can drive. I stuck at what I needed to do; I found the courage to keep on going, despite my fear and error strewn early days

The biggest difference about my life today, compared to the first thirty some years is that I have faith and courage. I have found that something that sustains and holds me and guides me despite my doubt and fear. I can practise imperfection, incompleteness these days. There is far less fear of the criticism of others.

I love the following meditation by Forrest Church, it really chimes with me. It is titled “The Imperfectionsist”:

"The reason I’ve been able to produce so much is that I’m not a perfectionist – I’m an imperfectionist. I’m confident that everything I say can be improved upon by others, and that’s my great strength, because I know that it won’t be improved upon by others unless I take the first step. When we only do things which please us, or don’t frighten us, after a while fewer and fewer things please us. Over time, our circle of options diminishes until we are prisoners in gardens of our own making. The more decisions you make in your life, the more times you act, the more certain it is that you will be wrong. To be fulfilled we need to recognize, all of us, that the world doesn’t owe us a living – rather we owe the world a living. And in the brief time that is given us, we must somehow learn to give ourselves away."

I really believe that what we need is more imperfection, more incompletion. More people who are unafraid to do what they can, however falteringly so that others can improve on their beginning. Think about it if we all held back until that perfect moment, nothing would ever get done; nothing would ever happen; nothing would ever change. We would just sit around complaining about our lives and the state of the world where in, I have wasted a lot of my life doing precisely this. These days, thank God, I have enough faith to practise imperfection.

It is ok to be imperfect; in fact I would suggest that it is rather lovely. It makes us fully human. No aspect of life is perfect. I do wonder where this drive, this need to be perfect comes from, to escape our humanity. Maybe that is exactly where it does in fact come from? It is an aspect of that drive to somehow transcend our humanity. I am reminded here of the text from Genesis I. When God looks at his creation he does not suggest that is perfect, he sees that it is good. Some translations suggest that it means “fit for purpose”. This fascinates me. Perfection is not part of natural life and yet we so often cripple ourselves in our attempts to strive for it, to prove ourselves worthy of life. We forget that to be imperfect is to be incomplete and that there is nothing wrong in this, it is to be fully human. To be incomplete simply means we have not yet created the perfect circle and thus we can roll through life singing and enjoying all that is life, with all that is life. We can journey together in love. In our perfect imperfection.

I believe that by practising imperfection we can bring ourselves closer to one another and encourage one another to be all that we can be; imperfectionism gives us the courage to be all that we can be. If we can learn to celebrate imperfection within ourselves, then we can learn to celebrate it in one another. It will bring us closer to one another and we can begin to encourage one another to be all that we can be. We can then work together to build a better life for us all. Perfectionism is a manifestation of selfishness, it’s all about the individual. Where as imperfectionism draws us out of ourselves and encourages us to encourage one another to what ever we can. You never know we may end up doing more than we ever dreamed was possible, for the good of ourselves and the good of all.

I say lets practise being perfectly imperfect children of life, children of love, children of God. Let’s continue singing our song.

"Oh I'm looking for my missin' piece
I'm looking for my missin' piece.
Hi-dee-ho, here I go,
Lookin' for my missin' piece."


Amen

Pay it Forward

"Do all the good you can

By all the means you can,

In all the ways you can,

In all the places you can,

At all the times you can,

As long as ever you can "

Words of John Wesley the father of Methodism.

A week last Friday I drove up to Keswick to conduct the funeral of Bill Molyneux. I set off very early in the morning and decided to call in at Stretford cemetery on the way. The date was 23rd of August (2013), it would have been Ethan’s 13th birthday. Unfortunately I had not really thought ahead and had assumed that the gates would be open, they were of course locked at that hour, 6 o'clock in the morning. I left feeling annoyed and frustrated and somewhat tired, with a little trapped in emotion. Thankfully as I drove I was able to connect to my purpose that day.

It was a beautiful journey through the Lake District and a deeply moving day. I was able to get back in time, before it turned dark and visit the cemetery to leave my card, to talk with him at the side of the grave and to offer thanks and praise for all that Ethan gave in his short but rich life.

Following Bill’s funeral we shared a lovely tea at a local hotel and his friends, family and former colleague Bob shared some beautiful memories about his life. It is obvious he was a greatly loved man. I sat next to Bob who shared many tales about Bill and few other stories too. Bill used to run a jam making factory and Bob recounted a tale when they had run out of supplies of damsons. He had noted I was from Yorkshire and said that this type of jam was very popular there. Bob recounted how he began the round of calls all over the north of England in a desperate search for extra supplies. Eventually he got through to a firm in Yorkshire who had plenty extra. Bob thanked the man at the end of the phone adding “I don’t know how or when we will be able to pay you back for this.” To which the man replied, “Nah then lad, thas no need to pay us back, there’s no debt. What I’d like thee to do is pay it forward.”

Bill’s business partner explained to me that what the man had wanted him to do was to remember this favour and to pass it on when someone else was in trouble and needs a favour too. He didn’t want him to pay it back, he wanted him to pay it forward.

This really got me thinking. First of all it exploded one of those myths about Yorkshire folk and especially one of those awful clichés that are said of us. You have no doubt heard this one “Ear all, see all, say nowt; eyt all, sup all, pay nowt; and if ivver tha does owt fer nowt allus do it fer thissen.” Which roughly translates as “Hear all, see all, say nothing; eat all, drink all, pay nothing; and if ever you do anything for nothing always do it for yourself.”

The man on the other end of the phone certainly exploded that myth. He didn’t want the favour to be paid back, instead it wanted it to be paid forward, to be passed on to the next person in need.

Pay it forward is an interesting term, don’t you think?

There are disagreements over its origins, which may well go back to the ancient Greeks. Luminaries such as Benjamin Franklin and Ralph Waldo Emerson made reference to the principle. In a letter to Benjamin Webb in 1784 Franklin wrote “I do not pretend to give such a sum; I only lend it to you. When you...meet with another honest man in similar distress, you must pay me by lending this sum to him; enjoining him to discharge the debt by a like operation, when he shall be able, and shall meet with another opportunity. I hope it may thus go thro’ many hands, before it meets with a knave that will stop its progress. This is a trick of mine for doing a deal of good with a little money.”

In his essay “Compensation” Emerson wrote: “In the order of nature we cannot render benefits to those whom we receive them, or only seldom. But the benefit we receive must be rendered again, line for line, deed for deed, cent for cent, to somebody.”

During the 1950’s the phrase “Pay it Forward” was popularised by Robert A Heinlein, initially by being referenced in his book “Between Planets.” Heinlein preached and practised this principle in his daily life and this led to the formation of the Heinlein society, a humanitarian organisation based on this principle.

In the year 2000 Catherine Ryan Hyde published the novel “Pay it Forward” which became a best seller and was soon made into a film by the same title. This led in time to the formation of the “Pay if Forward Foundation.” It even has its own day. Did you know that April 26th is “International Pay It Forward Day”. This is a day when millions of people intentionally commit to acts of kindness and caring.

Pay it forward is based on what is known today as the “ripple effect”, which has its roots in Confucius's concept of “Concentric Circles of Compassion”. Like a pebble dropped into a pond, our actions create ripples that go out and affect others beyond what we can imagine. It works on the premise that we can make our world a better place if we share, if we care as much for others as we do for ourselves. It is firmly grounded in the ethos of the “Golden Rule of Compassion” a concept found at the core of every single one of the world’s great religious traditions. It is an effort to change the world one small act at a time. Everything we do and everything we do not do really does matter. We affect our world, for good or for ill, by every thought, word and or deed.

One of the great movements for social good of the twentieth century is enshrined in the concept of “paying it forward”. Alcoholics Anonymous and the near two hundred other fellowships that have sprung from its principles have brought about recovery for millions of people from all manners of addiction. When a person is released from their destructive addiction they are not asked to pay back what was freely given to them, instead they are asked to pass on what has been given to others in desperate need and when doing so to also pass on that they do not have to pay back what has been given to them, instead they too must pass it forward. The principle of "Paying it Forward" is at the root of this simple movement that has saved millions of lives.

When I look back at my life it blows my mind to think of all the good that people have done for me. Two of those people I have remembered with tears of grief over the last week. One of course was Ethan who revealed God’s love to me and other was Enid Johnson whose funeral I conducted last Wednesday. Enid was a member at Cross Street Chapel when I began attending 10 years ago. Enid was one of the many people who welcomed me with open arms into the community and who also supported me when Ethan was killed, further she was another who supported me as I took the first tentative steps into ministry and I know her love and support has remained ever since. I cannot directly pay back Enid, Ethan or the countless other people who have helped me over the years, but then again I don’t have I just have to keep on “Paying It Forward”. I just need to keep on passing on to others what was so freely given to me.

It is easy to look at our world and despair and give up and say “what’s the point? Everyone is out for themselves. If I go out of my way to help another, they’ll just keep on taking advantage and what will I ever get back in return? It's easy to follow the selfish rule, “If tha gunna do owt for nowt, do fir thee sen”

I believe there is another way; I believe there is a better way. This other way is the purpose of the “Pay it Forward” movement. I like them believe that we can change our world, one act at a time. This is religion in its deepest and simplest form, binding up the broken manifesting God’s love in life. At its core is this life affirming principle that in spite of a great deal of evidence to the contrary faith, hope and love do in fact still remain. You see these ripples touch everybody both the giver and receiver and all who are eventually touched by them; both the giver and receiver are transformed by the experience; both giver and receiver are blessed abundantly.

I’d like you who read this to do something for me, “for thee sen”, for your world. I’d like you to remember all those times in your life when someone has gone out of their way to help you with no expectation of anything in return; whether they have helped you materially, intellectually, emotionally, or spirituality. I’d like you re-feel these occasions and to meditate on them and to come up with ways that you can pay these debts forward. I’d like you to think of ways that you can give back to your world; how you can create ripple effects that can impact in our shared world in ways we perhaps can’t even begin to dream of.

We can change our world today; it begins with thee and me. If you can’t do it for me, then "do it for thee sen."

I’d like to end this blog with this lovely tale by David J. Wolpe

"There is a marvelous story of a man who once stood before God, his heart breaking from the pain and injustice in the world. "Dear God." he cried out, "look at all the suffering, the anguish and distress in your world. Why don't you send help?" God responded,"I did send help. I sent you." When we tell our children that story, we must tell them that each one of them was sent to help repair the broken world-and that it is not the task of an instant or of a year, but of a lifetime."

So what is it that you do?

“What does a minister do?” By Bruce T Marshall

Last Sunday the kindergarten class stopped by my office for conversation. The question came up, “What does a minister do?”

That’s a tough one. I have a hard time explaining to my wife what I do. What do I say to five year olds?

“Makes speeches,” one child volunteered helpfully. We all quickly agreed on that. Yes I make speeches.

“Talks to people.” That’s true, all the talking I do is not in the form of speeches. I expect many of these five year olds have witnessed the scene in which somebody wants to go home but the minister is still “talking to people.”

“Solves problems.” This also was suggested by a participant. I was about to equivocate and say, “Well, lots of times I may try to solve problems, but the problems are difficult, and one person can’t do it all, and I can’t think of many problems that I actually have solved alone, but I try to do my part.” I thought about saying that but decided it would just confuse things. I swallowed hard and said, “Yes, I solve problems.”

“The minister talks to people when there are problems because it’s better to talk about problems than to hit each other.” What an elegant statement to come from a five year old, to come from anybody.

I’ll let that statement stand. Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Some questions are just impossible to answer...

I was out with a friend recently. He was getting money from the hole in the wall and I was just kind of lingering on the street. Suddenly a friendly, attractive, young woman approached me saying “I bet I can guess your name”. Now please don't get too excited she wasn’t chatting me up, she was actually working for “Friends of the Earth” and was attempting to get me to give money to the organisation. 

She persisted and kept on saying “I bet I can guess your name, in a friendly slightly flirtatious way.” I just smiled and answered “Go on then” and she said “Dave, Steve, Andy, Mike” I shook my head and said “My middle name is David”. She carried on, but didn’t manage to guess. She then asked if I could guess her name, which I failed to do. My friend then arrived and she asked if he was my brother? To which I replied, “don’t insult him, he’s far too good looking to be related to me.” 

Frustrated she changed her tack and the next thing she asked was "so what do you do?" Now if I'd been really sharp, no doubt I would have responded "Well I mind my own business," but I'm not that sharp and besides she never gave me the time. Instead she quickly said, “are you unemployed.” To which I replied, “Of course not, why would you think that?” She said, "well most people walking round here at this time of day are”. I suspect that this is the answer that most folk give in order to stop her pestering them and interestingly I had just been to the job centre with my friend, who is on the job hunt. 

She continued attempting to guess what I do. She looked me up and down and said “I bet you work in construction” I just shook my head, she continued “are you a chef?” “Do you work in sales?” I bet you’re a civil servant?” This went on for quite some time and I just kept on shaking my head and saying, "you will never guess."

She didn’t.

In the end in order to put her out of her misery I told her what I do (Well really what I am). I said “I am a minister” at which point she stopped and her jaw dropped, again she looked me up and down and then looked at my friend who said, "yes he is" as he began to snigger. The young woman looked like she had fallen into a state somewhere between shock and terror. She stared for a few moments, which seemed like an eternity and then began to mumble “Well then you know what Friends of the Earth are all about then”, to which I replied “Yes I know all about Friends of the Earth”, she then said a few barely coherent things back at me, as all her confidence and brashness had now left her, I just smiled and chuckled. There then followed a short silence, that seemed to last for an eternity and then she turned and kind of lept in the air and pounced on an unsuspecting young man passing in the street and began her patter again “I bet I can guess your name” I turned to my friend and we burst out laughing and off we went for a coffee and a chat.

Now I don’t generally get a kick out of sucking the wind out of the sails of young women, but this encounter did amuse me.

I know I’m not your typical minister; I’m not sure I’m your typical anything; I’m not sure I’d want to be in any case. People who don’t know me are often surprised when they discover what I do. I was asked by someone recently and a few weeks later they confessed to being shocked at first. That said they had thought that at first I meant that I was a minister in the government and not a minister of religion. Now I wonder if that’s what the young woman thought...maybe, maybe not.

This of course brings to mind another question that I’m often asked... “So as a minister what do you?” Or sometimes, “what do you the rest of the week?” I’m also asked how is it going, the job I mean? Again this is hard to answer. My usual response is “Well they haven’t chased me out of town yet.” Which is quickly followed by, “I am loved, they love me”, "the work's a real blessing"

Oh if only people would ask me simple question like "What is the Meaning of Life?", or "If there is a God why is there so much suffering?", or "What happens when we die?" These seem far easier to answer than "So what exactly is a minister and what does a minister do?"

I love the responses that the children given in words by Bruce T Marshall above. I also love his final concluding words

“The minister talks to people when there are problems because it’s better to talk about problems than to hit each other.” What an elegant statement to come from a five year old, to come from anybody.

I’ll let that statement stand. Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

I do believe that it points to what the role of a minister is or what it means to minister. Now of course etymologically speaking to minister is to serve; and I believe that to serve is to love in the truest meaning of the word. Now the love I am talking of here is agape love, self giving love, love without prejudice. Which I believe is perfectly exemplified in this verse from Matthew’s Gospel chapter ch 5 vv 48 “Therefore be the perfect, like your father in heaven is perfect”. This is the love that is the root from which ministry must grow. Perfect love is love without prejudice, love for all regardless of where a person has been, who they are, where they are from, what they may or may not have done in the past. This is the love that is expressed in the prodigal son parable. To me this is the essence of love and service; this is the essence of ministry. It is the purpose of my role and it is the primary purpose of a truly religious community. This I believe is the spirit that must run through all that I do and the communities I serve do. Now of course I fall short of this as does the community of people I serve, but we do aspire, we aim at this and accept that it is ok to fall short.

No one can get everything right. I need to remember that. I believe that every human needs to remember that.

I recently came across a wonderful meditation “The Church Where Everything Goes Wrong." by Elea Kemler. She is writing about her experiences of being a minister in a new congregation and all the problems and difficulties that she has to endure in attempting to keep her fellowship of love afloat. At the end of a piece filled with frustration at everything that goes wrong she writes:

“But I also imagine a God who is touched and a little honored by our efforts, however halting, to worship and give praise. I imagine a God who is moved by our attempts to care for one another and to name the things we know as holy. There is a warmth in this congregation that is new to me, a simple friendliness that shines through the fumblings and failures, a love that makes the ragged edges smooth. I have always wanted to believe that our mistakes aren't the most important parts of us. I have always wanted to believe that kindness and compassion matter more than anything. I sense that I can learn this here.”

I too want to believe that kindness and compassion are what matter the most; I do believe that they are the essence of love and service; I do believe that they are the root of true religion.

The Unitarian tradition that I belong to has emphasised not only the priesthood, but also the prophet hood of all believers. I am not the only one who ministers in the congregations I serve. I believe that everyone in the communities ministers to one another in one degree or another; the diverse communities of individuals minister not only to one another, but also to the wider community. We offer love and service to all. We welcome all, to come as they are, exactly as they are, but not to expect to leave in exactly the same condition; to be transformed in a loving and accepting way when they leave and to carry that out into their world.

I keep on wondering about that conversation with the young woman. It matters to me what people think. I care what people think, not only of me, but of what I do. It bothers me that a person can look with fear at me, because of what I do. Do not get me wrong, I do not take it personally. Nor am I ruled by what people think of me, but I do care. To no longer care about things sounds hellish to me.

The fear I would guess stems from the way that religion is viewed in this country. This is of course the fault, to some degree, of religion itself which at times does not come across as loving and accepting of all, quite the opposite, it can be divisive and against some people. That said I do not believe that this is the essence, the true essence, of religion.

Religion for me, or at least the free religion that I aspire to is about love and service. It’s about walking with people in their despair and their hope, in their suffering and their bliss and all that lies in between. It’s about accepting them as they are in all that they are. This is love in its truest sense. It’s about offering perfect love and making that love manifest in the world in which we live and have our being.

Nostalgia for the Present

“I live according to a few simple principles. One I call “nostalgia for the present” (embracing each day as it passes rather that ruing it after it’s gone). Another way you might put this is “looking forward to the present” (enjoying what you have as if in a state of anticipation rather than aching longingly for that which very likely will not be). By focusing one’s energy, to the extent that is possible, on the present, one is liberated from fears of the future and also liberated from regrets about the past. I have seen people in the last weeks of their lives live every minute more fully than they have before, because they recognise what most of us don’t in our daily living; that each moment is precious.

The opposite of wishful thinking (wishing for something you lack) is thoughtful wishing (thinking to wish for what you’ve got right now). What we have right now is this day with the wind blowing and mottled light on the mountains in this beautiful place, carrying on a conversation with another human being who is also going to die. It’s very precious. It’s a miracle that we’re even able to converse. We tend, I think, to take our lives for granted rather than receiving them daily as a gift. I would hope that each day I live I might, through some encounter, be born again to an awareness and appreciation for the gift, the mystery of being, the wonder and the miracle. Not the miracle out there, but the miracle in here.”

Forrest Church

Please listen to the attached meditation before continuing

I recently spent some time with old mates back home in Yorkshire. It was a kind of reunion at a pub that we all use to drink in and get up to all sorts, as young people do. It was a great night and one I thoroughly enjoyed. We reminisced about times gone by. There was a lot of talk about a band that four of us use to be in 20 years ago and those wild and crazy days. It is actually the first time that all four of us have been together for many a year. Three of us no longer live in the area and the one who still does will soon be moving away himself. Now the conversation may have got a little out of hand by the end of proceedings because we did agree to get back together for one final one off gig. Something we may live to regret. We shall see.

Whatever comes of it, it was wonderful to spend time in the company of people who have known me all my adult life and it was great to share memories, some of which have been long lost. It was also great to re-feel these memories in a different light and from a different perspective. Life does seem so different today.

I was recently told by a friend that I am same person I have always been and yet I am so different. I understand what he meant. I suspect that the main difference today is that I am fully present in the life I live. I no longer feel weighted down by the past or in fear of what is to come. I feel connected to what is here right now and I am thankful for the feast in front of me. I am hungry for it.

To reminisce is of course a good thing. To relive old memories and loves can bring joy to the heart and to the spirit. That said there are dangers too. I know that there have been times in my life when I have found the past very painful. I could not have had the conversations I had the other week just 10 years ago. It would have filled me with anger, fear, pain and shame. It would not have been the conversations themselves that would have caused this, more my own memories of my own life and those experiences.

Memory really is a peculiar thing. As I look back at my life today it seems so different than it was ten years ago. The pain and the suffering I have experienced is still there and is still real, that said it is now in its proper proportion, it is surrounded by love and joy and laughter, as all lives are. The problem I suffered from back then was that I just kept getting stuck in my troubles. I did attempt to come to terms with them, I tried to examine them honestly, but could not. Instead I just spent ages lost in my own and other people’s underwear, with seemingly no way out. Thank God this is no longer the case. By the way I do thank God for this, for it is faith that has allowed me to look the world in the eye again and experience the joy of living. It has allowed me to see my life as it really was and not as I remembered it.

They say that the true gift of life is in the present, that only now exists; that to live healthily, spiritually, you have to embrace the now. They say that if you focus on what is there that the pain of the past will disappear and the fear of the future will diminish. This is easier said than done.

Now while not wishing to argue with this truth, experience has taught me that this is only half the answer. The key I have discovered is that by coming to terms with the past and learning lessons from it I have been better able to fully connect to what is there and to no longer be ruled by what is yet to come. Much of the last few years of my life have been about rebuilding relationships on every level of life, physical, mental and spiritual. I have found that by doing so I have been able to truly “sing the joy of living”, by connecting to all that is there.

I spent a long time trying to flee from what was actually there, believing it to be the problem; I was searching for answers that were not to be found elsewhere. Finally I quit searching; I stopped and was able to appreciate the fruits and whatever else was there. I learnt to love what was there, a bit like the man in the dandelions story that I so love to tell.

I have been a minister for three years now, hard to believe! During this time I have been guided by the wisdom of Forrest Church. His writings have held me as I have learnt the craft of ministry. One of the principles he lived by was “nostalgia for the present”. He described this as embracing each day as it passes instead of ruing it after it has gone. Or “looking forward to the present” which he has described as enjoying what you have as if in a state of anticipation rather than aching longingly for that which likely will never be.

Now this became really pertinent during the last years of his life as he died of Oesophageal cancer, as he learnt that he had to practise what he had always preached. And where did this wisdom come from? It came from pastoral ministry. He learnt it as he shared in the lives of so many people, especially those at the ends of their lives. As he wrote himself “I have seen people in the last weeks of their lives live every moment more fully than they ever have before, because they recognise what most of us don’t in our daily living: that each moment is precious.” That even in those last moments of life there is a potential for peace, beauty and completion.

I remember a Unitarian colleague tell me that he had become convinced of God’s presence in life during those moments that he shared with people just before they died. That something was happening in those moments that he cannot begin to describe, all that he knows is that life took on a different meaning during this time and that he himself was transformed by being present then. The conversation has stayed me, it keeps speaking to me. I believe I am beginning to see the truth within it. It's one of those "Spots of Time" moments. It is another of those great moments from the past that has helped me to better connect to the present and not fear what is to come.

It is hard to believe that I have served the good folk of Altrincham and Urmston for three years now. We have experienced so much together, connected to so much, they have taught me so much. What has become clear to me during this time is that above everything ministry, certainly my ministry, is about being a guest in the lives of other people. It is about being present in their lives. I can think of no greater privilege than to be invited into the lives of other people, at the level that these beautiful people have invited me into their lives. In those precious moments I have experienced life in a way I never dreamed possible. Sometimes this has been challenging, difficult, disturbing and even painful, but it has been beautiful. I couldn’t have asked for anything more.

My life seems so rich in meaning today because I have learnt to accept what can be mine rather than wasting my time wishing for what cannot. I can see the gifts I am surrounded by and I love them, even the dandelions. This is what ministry is, whether it’s the ministry I do as a professional minister or the ministry the communities I serve do together. When we enter into the lives of each other we empty ourselves and yet by doing so we find ourselves abundantly filled with love and by giving ourselves to one another we discover ourselves in that encounter; by doing so we connect to ourselves, to one another and to that Great Reality in a deep and meaningful ways; by doing so we are no longer cut adrift, but connected to all that is; by doing so we are no longer empty, but fully filled.

I’m going to end with a final few words from Forrest. This seems appropriate having spent three years being guided by him from the grave. In his final book
“The Cathedral of the World” at the end of the chapter “The Search for Meaning” he wrote:

“So it's pretty simple for me: Love when you can. Do the work that is yours to do. Be the person that is yours to be at any given time. Think to wish for what is yours at this very moment. To love. To serve. To touch. To know. Think to wish for all that is yours to have. Think to wish for all that is yours to do. And think to wish that you might be who it is that you might most fully be. Avoid wishful thinking. Avoid the traps and pitfalls of nostalgia for the past. Savor every moment as it passes. And enlist yourself in saving that which can be saved this very moment, in order that it, too, may endure for others to enjoy.”

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.

The shortest distance between a human being and Truth is a story."

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."

Another time he said, "Do not despise the story. A lost gold coin is found by means of a penny candle; the deepest truth is found by means of a simple story."

Every Sunday during worship I like to share one or two stories from the different spiritual traditions of the world. I love stories, life is all about stories. Muriel Rukeyser has said "The universe is made of stories, not atoms." Now I'm sure many will argue, but I can see the truth in what she says. Life is made up of more than its physical components, or so I have begun to discover.

We all love a good story. It is not just for children, it is for all people, all ages.

On Monday I received a phone call from one of my neighbours. She rang to ask me about a "Wayside Pulpit that had recently been replaced from the front of Dunham Road Chapel, where I live. The woman couldn’t remember exactly what it said but wanted to write it down and use it in a speech she hoped to deliver at her son’s wedding. She said her son and his partner were academics and were really competitive and thought this little gem of wisdom would benefit them. She then thanked me for the messages and said they often helped her.

The Wayside Pulpit read:

“Life is not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be experienced” by Joseph Campbell

Now of course Campbell loved stories, especially the great stories. He saw in them universal qualities that could speak to everyone regardless of time and place. They revealed something of the mystery that is life. He taught comparative religion for four decades and authored a series of books on the archetypes that shape our human psyche and our relations to the cosmos. That said it was not his academic genius that he is best remembered for. Instead he is best known for being the consultant of George Lucas who helped him envision Star Wars as a myth for modern times.

Stories and story-telling have been distilling wisdom throughout the generations and I have no doubt that this will continue on into eternity. They have revealed universal truths, they have spoken deep into the soul of those who have cared to listen, introducing them to magic, mystery and the possibility of otherness. These stories have expanded the imagination and have been windows onto something beyond the confines of pure reason. Life is far more than the sum of it's parts.

The following story is an adaptation of a Sufi tale by the same name. It comes from Bill Darlison’s excellent anthology “Concentration and Compassion: More Stories from the World’s Spiritual Traditions” In this story Bill has transported the tale from a Persian river over 1,000 years ago to an Irish beach in contemporary times. That said the truth that it reveals and the message it teaches is universal.

 “Written on Sand”

Two friends, Sean and Patrick, were walking together on the seashore when they started to argue. The argument became so heated that Sean slapped Patrick across the face. Patrick didn’t retaliate. Instead he took a stick and wrote in the sand, “Today Sean slapped me.”

They made up, of course, and some months later they went for a swim in the sea. Patrick’s foot became entangled in some seaweed and he couldn’t free himself. The sea was becoming rougher, and Patrick started to panic. ‘Help!’ he called, ‘I’m drowning!’ Sean, who was much the stronger swimmer, heard his friend’s cries and swam over to him. He disentangled Patrick’s foot and then pulled his half-drowned friend safely back to shore.

When he had recovered, the grateful Patrick took a hammer and chisel and carved into a rock, ‘Today Sean saved my life’.

‘After I struck you, you wrote about it on the sand but today you chiselled words on a rock. Why?’ asked Sean.

‘When someone hurts us we should record it on sand where the winds of forgiveness can erase it. But when someone does something good for us it should be recorded on rock from which it can never be removed.’

Jesus carried his message of universal love through telling parables. Lukes Gospel Ch 10 vv 25-37 recounts one of his most famous, "The Parable of the Good Samaritan"

25 Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus.^* ‘Teacher,’ he said, ‘what must I do to inherit eternal life?’ ²⁶He said to him, ‘What is written in the law? What do you read there?’ ²⁷He answered, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbour as yourself.’²⁸And he said to him, ‘You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.’

29 But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbour?’ ³⁰Jesus replied, ‘A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. ³¹Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. ³²So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. ³³But a Samaritan while travelling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. ³⁴He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. ³⁵The next day he took out two denarii,^* gave them to the innkeeper, and said, “Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.” ³⁶Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?’ ³⁷He said, ‘The one who showed him mercy.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Go and do likewise.’

The great sages such as Jesus and the Buddha excelled in storytelling. They knew that through a story they could reach every aspect of the person receiving their truth; they knew that the listener could relate to a story and it could open them up to new and deeper truths. A story really does put flesh on the word. Shaman and elders of every tradition also shared their wisdom through telling the tale around camp fires and other gatherings. They drew their listeners to deeper visions of life with imagery and symbolism. So you see the story teller has always been with us and is with us today. In fact you could say that perhaps today there are so many stories it is difficult to discern what is useful and what is not.  

Post-modernism would claim that today there is no longer one narrative. The French philosopher Jean-Francois Lyotard has defined post-modernism as ‘the death of metanarrative’. He claimed that we no longer have nor need the big stories ‘that tell us who we are, where we come from, and what we are called to do.’

Personally I am not convinced by this argument as I do see universal qualities in these tales. Whether it’s the one I’m told of in a coffee shop, or the one I see on the big screen, or the one I read in some ancient text. The stories may be told in different ways but they still connect us, with one another, through time and space. They do more than connect us though, they heal us, they renew us and spur us on to greater things. Regardless of when they were first told and by who they still have the capacity to tell us who we are, where we come from and what we are called to do. Well they do if we have ears to hear them; if we listen with the 'ears of our hearts.'

The beauty of our modern age is that these stories, these truths come from so many sources. There is no longer the single authoritative source, in this sense I believe that the "Post Modernists" are correct.We all tell our stories today. We can communicate them instantly and throughout the world. This is the beauty of modern media, it enables us to share and spread these stories instantly and universally. Ok there is an awful lot of junk out their but you can still discern the gems. All that you need to do is sift through the muck; you just need to pan for the gold.

In many ways social media is just an extension of the garden fence. Is it really any different to those two Les Dawson characters Cissi and Ada, those immensely comical gossiping Lancashire housewives?  There is a place for gossip in its right context, it is a way of distilling knowledge, passing on information, telling the tale. It only becomes a problem if the information passed on is designed to cause damage, is a deliberate lie or is breaking a confidence. As in all aspects of life it is the spirit in which the tales are told that really matters.

In “The Man Who Loved Seagulls” Osho  said:

“Human beings give meaning to existence; that's what a myth is all about. Man is a gossip-creating animal. Small gossips, just about the neighbourhood, about the neighbour’s wife ... and big gossips, cosmic, about God.”

Kathleen Norris in “Dakota” explains this further in the following passage on living in a small community.

“We are interrelated in a small town, whether or not we are related by blood. We know without thinking about it who owns what car; inhabitants of a town as small as a monastery learn to recognize each other’s footsteps in the hall. Story is a safety valve for people who live as intimately as that; and I would argue that gossip done well can be a holy thing. It can strengthen communal bonds...

Like the desert tales that monks have used for centuries as a basis for a theology and way of life, the tales of small town gossip are often morally instructive, illustrating the ways ordinary people survive the worst that happens to them; or, conversely the ways in which self-pity, anger, and despair can overwhelm and destroy them. Gossip is theology translated into experience. In it we hear great stories of conversion, like the drunk who turns his or her life around, as well as stories of failure. We can see that pride really does go before a fall, and that hope is essential. We watch closely those who retire, or who lose a spouse, lest they lose interest in living. When we gossip we are also praying, not only for them but for ourselves.”

The point Norris is making is that when we pass on these stories and observe one another we are learning from each other and we are connecting to each other on a deeper level. We are realising that we are one; we are the one undivided whole.

 “The Perfect Woman”

Nasrudin met an old friend whom he had not seen for twenty years. They sat down together in the cafe and talked over old times. "Did you ever get married Nasruddin?" asked the friend.

“No I’m afraid I didn’t.”

“Why not? I’ve been married many years and I’ve never regretted it.”

“Well”, said Nasruddin, “I was always looking for the perfect woman. I wanted my wife to be beautiful, intelligent, and sensible.”

“And you never found her?”

“I thought I had, when I was twenty. Her name was Ablah.

She was beautiful, just the kind of woman I like, but I’m afraid she wasn’t very intelligent, and her language was atrocious! I was embarrassed to be with her! She certainly wasn’t the perfect woman.”

“Was she your only girlfriend?”

“No. When I was twenty-five I met a woman called Bahira. She was good looking and intelligent, but she wasn’t very sensible. She spent all my money on frivolous things, and she couldn’t even boil an egg! She wasn’t the perfect woman either.”

“Were there any more?”

“Only one. At thirty I met Haddiyah and she was truly a gift from God! She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and the most intelligent. What’s more she was prudent and sensible, a good cook, and a brilliant conversationalist.”

“She sounds like the perfect woman you were looking for.”

“Then why didn’t you marry her?”

“Unfortunately, she was looking for the perfect man!”

I love Nasruddin, the holy fool. I love the un-commonsense that his stories reveal. You will find characters like him in most cultures. Through humour they reveal deep truths, ones that are too often hidden.

So many of the great stories have laughter and humour within them. Sadly humour can at times be absent in the spiritual life, it ought not to be. There is something lacking in a spirituality that takes itself too seriously. The spiritual life can at times be perceived as an arid and serious world, utterly devoid of humour and lightness. Many of us look at the spiritual, the religious life, as if were a dose of rather distasteful medicine. We may well see the benefits of it, but aren’t sure we would like the way it tastes. We are frightened that it might actually reduce our experience of life. We can easily become too intense and earnest in our approach to spirituality; by doing so we can view laughter as sacrilegious and end up apologising for the freedom that it can breed. We should never apologise for experiencing joy and laughter. The spiritual life needs humour. There is humour in the ancient tales, so surely there is a place for it in our age. There is always room for Divine humour. As I often remind myself “life is too serious to be taken too seriously.”

When we listen to the great stories and when we listen one another’s stories we connect not only to each other but to all people at all times, past, present and future and of course to that greater reality present in all life. These stories bring a zest to life; these stories help us to see ourselves reflected in a different light. Through identifying we also see our own absurdities and we can laugh at our own holy foolishness. This helps us see a new, a different, perspective. A great story builds a bridge from our particular life to the timeless, the universal, they connect us to the whole. They are windows that give us a glimpse of something way beyond ourselves.

These stories nourish us. They reveal profound spiritual and psychological realities. They illuminate the inevitable difficulties that every human life faces. Great stories reveal new vistas, they shine a light on a new path, a new way and they teach us how to see this new path, they remind us that there are always new possibilities. They open up our hearts, our minds and our souls. These stories are an invitation to laugh, to awaken, to journey with others. These stories have the power to touch us deeply, to move us intensely and to inspire us to fully live our lives.

These stories are also our stories!

In “Crow and Weasel” Barry Lopez said

“The stories people tell have a way of taking care of them. If stories come to you, care for them. And learn to give them away where they are needed. Sometimes a person needs a story more than food to stay alive. That is why we put these stories in each other’s memory. This is how people care for themselves.”

I will continue to listen to the stories as they come to me and I will nurture them. I will take care of them and I will continue to give them away. I believe that that we all need them, to share them, to keep on passing them on. Why you may well ask? Well because by doing so we will take better care of ourselves.

These stories are our stories!

I have glimpsed the truth that "the shortest distance between a human being and Truth  is a story."

Can you see it too?