The one about…grief

Devastatingly sad news, like the death of someone you all knew and admired, someone who inspired others, affects everyone in the community. We all cope in different ways for many reasons, maybe because of the intensity, or not, of relationship; maybe because of our differing personalities; maybe because of previous experiences of grief and loss. Some will cry, some will be angry, others will be quiet, some will behave as though nothing’s changed. Some will have to be strong and brave despite their own feelings, to allow the younger members of the community to mourn. There is no right way to mourn, grief, however it’s expressed, is valid.

When the grief hits, however it hits, we will need to stand with each other and to allow each other to grieve. This might require courage; courage to talk, courage to listen and courage to love. We might need to allow each other to express feelings in unique ways; to talk, cry, shout, draw, write, think, however best allows us to move forwards…because we will move forwards.

Life calls us onwards, even when for a while death causes us to pause and wait indefinitely in a place that we don’t really want to be. Death awakens us to feelings we’ve often subdued, denied, hidden or maybe never experienced before and reminds us that one day death will meet us personally. Death is real. Yet, until the time death meets us, a time we don’t know for certain, life invites us to live; to adventure. Life asks us to journey with those emotions and to live, fully alive, knowing joy, pain, sadness, fear, anger and love…because they all belong. Those emotions travel with us and the hope is that somehow we allow love to take the lead, the other emotions will have their place, they will need to make room for each other but love must win. For now, because we love, we’ll grieve.

I’ll leave you with the words of Elizabeth Gilbert, taken from her Instagram account after the death of her partner and best friend…

People keep asking me how I’m doing, and I’m not always sure how to answer that. It depends on the day. It depends on the minute. Right this moment, I’m OK. Yesterday, not so good. Tomorrow, we’ll see.

Here is what I have learned about Grief, though.

I have learned that Grief is a force of energy that cannot be controlled or predicted. It comes and goes on its own schedule. Grief does not obey your plans, or your wishes. Grief will do whatever it wants to you, whenever it wants to. In that regard, Grief has a lot in common with Love.

The only way that I can “handle” Grief, then, is the same way that I “handle” Love — by not “handling” it. By bowing down before its power, in complete humility.

When Grief comes to visit me, it’s like being visited by a tsunami. I am given just enough warning to say, “Oh my god, this is happening RIGHT NOW,” and then I drop to the floor on my knees and let it rock me. How do you survive the tsunami of Grief? By being willing to experience it, without resistance.

The conversation of Grief, then, is one of prayer-and-response.

Grief says to me: “You will never love anyone the way you loved Rayya.” And I reply: “I am willing for that to be true.” Grief says: “She’s gone, and she’s never coming back.” I reply: “I am willing for that to be true.” Grief says: “You will never hear that laugh again.” I say: “I am willing.” Grief says, “You will never smell her skin again.” I get down on the floor on my fucking knees, and — and through my sheets of tears — I say, “I AM WILLING.” This is the job of the living — to be willing to bow down before EVERYTHING that is bigger than you. And nearly everything in this world is bigger than you.

I don’t know where Rayya is now. It’s not mine to know. I only know that I will love her forever. And that I am willing.

The one about…a not so perfect Christmas!

Everyone’s talking about it, the shops are fully stocked, the music is playing, the trees are decorated, the lights are twinkling; people are busy planning, shopping, baking, dreaming and now the calendars are counting down. The world (or that’s what we’re led to believe) is getting ready for the big day! The Big Day! That’s the phrase I read in a local publication and that’s when I realised I have a problem with Christmas!

The 25th of December (or for some the 24th) has become such a big event, the “Big Day”! One day where everything has to be ready; food prepared, presents bought, gifts wrapped, cards sent, house tidied, people invited…all for one day, all for the illusion of the perfect Christmas!

Thing is it’s rarely perfect, despite the stories we hear and the adverts we see. There’s the child who changed their mind on 23rd December about what they wanted from Father Christmas, leaving the parents dreading the look of disappointment on Christmas morning; there’s the mum who’s had to go into work so now Christmas dinner will be at 7pm rather than 1pm and it feels like the usual traditions are in question; there’s the somber reality of the first Christmas without that loved one, leaving a hole way too huge, along with the return of the tears you thought you’d just got control of; there’s the dad trying to put a brave face on the fact he hasn’t got the kids until Boxing Day because they’re with their mum this year; there’s the newlyweds who can’t work out who they should spend Christmas with because either way one set of in-laws will be disappointed; there’s the widow down the road who’ll eat alone like any other day except for some reason Christmas Day feels even more lonely…like I say, it’s rarely perfect.

I guess part of the challenge is to stop seeing it as one ‘Big Day’, and instead to embrace the season of Christmas. It’s not easy when our chocolate calendars count us down, we measure the month by how many sleeps there are to go, and Facebook reminds us of how many shopping days we have left. It’s almost counter cultural to do Christmas differently!

What if we were able to hold it all far more lightly though, to see Christmas as a season rather than a day and to make more space for the tears and disappointment in the midst of the laughter and the song! Christmas is truly beautiful, it is a reminder of hope but it’s also often a reminder of reality!

The first Christmas was real, not all new baby delight, it was a young Jewish couple, in violation of acceptable social conduct, giving birth to a Jewish baby in a land oppressed by a cruel regime that saw many of their fellow Jews being massacred for not adhering to Roman rule. It was a time of fear, of uncertainty and of decreasing hope that life would ever be OK again. These were real people, in a real place, in real time, facing the very real prospect of invasion, torture or death.

“Life under the Romans was unbearably brutal. Not only did Rome demand oppressively high taxes, they harshly suppressed every whiff of opposition.

In Sepphoris, for instance, just three miles from Nazareth, the Romans quelled a rebellion by burning the city to the ground and then selling its survivors into slavery. This happened in 4BC, around the time if Jesus birth…”

From a book called ‘Sitting at the feet of Rabbi Jesus’ by Spangler and Tverberg.

Imagine living with this, growing up with this kind of brutality. Into this reality a baby is born. Birth, new life, represents hope, future, possibilities and this baby would grow up to create a new story in the world, or maybe more accurately to tell the true story of the world. He would tell a story that spoke love into the very depth of people’s beings, that spoke the hope of a different way into the systems that had been established, a story that spoke peace into a nation that had never experienced true peace, a baby that brought joy and celebration into a land that had very little to celebrate. A baby that would present the very real presence of a new Kingdom, a new way and ultimately a new King.

This king began life on planet earth as a refugee seeking shelter but would later be the one who would welcome the outcasts in. His story shows that there is hope and joy to be found in the unlikeliest of stories.

Our story is part of that story too, and despite the seeming setbacks, the disappointments, the confusion and the fear, despite the unlikely characters that play their parts, the story keeps unfolding, sometimes fun, sometimes sad, sometimes uncertain but always moving forward, always brimming with possibilities and promise.

So as schools and playgroups perform their nativity plays, as the carols are sung and the cards with all the smiling characters are sent, as the movies are watched, the drinks drunk and way too much food is eaten, what if we remember that Christmas is more than just one big day? What if we make the most of every day this season, find every opportunity we can to share with others, to welcome friends and family, to give to someone else, to remember and reflect? What if we choose to see this as more than just a story of a baby in a crib but to see it as our story, because our story can bring hope to the world too!

The one about…rest!

I like to run. When I was pregnant with #6 I ran a marathon a week for the last ten weeks of my pregnancy, we moved house six weeks before he was born so to some extent running was my escape, my way of coping. When #7 was four months old I ran a half marathon pushing him in the buggy, again running was at best a therapy, at worst a distraction, as I came to terms, or tried to come to terms with having no more children! I love to run.

Then just over a year ago I picked up an injury, my achilles, it literally was my achilles heel! I couldn’t run, not properly, not for nearly a year, and still now I can’t run every day. I’ve had to be creative with exercise and I’ve had to rest! Why do I tell you this? Well Friday was a cold, crisp, beautifully sunny autumn morning, the perfect day for a run after school drop, but I’d run the previous two days and I knew my ankle would shout at me if I ran again so I chose to follow one of my running routes at a much slower pace. Frustrated, I began to walk, incredibly tempted to jog slowly, I tried focusing on the positives, fresh air, sunshine, exercise, my mind began to wander, to think about my blog, about what I’d write about because so far this week I’ve started two blogs and finished neither! Then I realisedi should write about rest.

I’m not good at resting, often because the opportunity alludes me but also because I don’t naturally choose it over “doing”. We recently spent a week in Wales, the nine of us, in a cottage on the coast (actually it was an old police station, the children thought it was awesome and took a dress up police kit and proceeded to spend the week arresting each other!!) There weren’t the usual chores, I didn’t take my “to do” list and I’d even finished writing my blog by Sunday afternoon! So the week was focussed on being family and enjoying the sea and the sand, the hills, castles and waterfalls and each other (as well as a giant slide)! A perfect recipe fot adventure!

We climbed, we paddled, we talked, we walked and we played; we played a lot. The favourite of the week was “Hunted”. If you’ve seen the series on TV you’ll have an idea! We picked numbers for hunter and hunted, we strategically placed the buggy with all our belongings in the sand dunes and then we began…the hunter counting to 30 as the rest of us hid in the dips and contours of the coast! It’s safe to say I cannot run on sand, dodgy heel or not and I spent most of my time laughing hysterically at the pointlessness of trying to move at any pace whilst constantly being outwitted by the children!

The week wasn’t even close to ‘sit on the beach with a book’ kind of rest, to be fair it probably wasn’t warm enough! It didn’t even lend itself to cream teas and coffee shops, or strolling around quirky cobbled streets and looking in shop windows, it seems our stage of life doesn’t allow for that! Yet it was a change of pace, it was time to play and to laugh, there was time to all huddle back into the warmth of our holiday home and enjoy doing nothing in particular! I felt rested, mentally, emotionally if not physically!

Even in the every day, rest doesn’t have to mean lying on the sofa! Although I guess we all rest differently. I know that running has taught me that rest, for me, isn’t stopping altogether, it’s more about finding another rhythm, a different way. I don’t run as often or as far as I did. Instead I bike or I walk, for me, that’s rest.

In the creation poem that begins the bible it talks of God as resting on seventh day. It’s called Sabbath and the word is taken from the Hebrew word Shabbat or Shabbos and it means to ‘cease from activity, to rest’. Sabbath is found throughout the bible, from the creation poem which offers an understanding of Gods first interactions with the world through to the followers of Jesus being criticised for not “resting” appropriately on the Sabbath. Somewhere in the story the understanding of Sabbath had become distorted, maybe we still carry a distorted view of Sabbath or rest!

To understand a little more of the importance of rest there’s a story in the bible that’s actually quite helpful. However you view the bible, there’s possibly some wisdom to be gained from trying to understand how life on planet earth is unfolding?! So let’s go back a few thousand years ago to a group of people called the Israelites who’d become slaves in Egypt. Day after day, for years and years, they were forced to make bricks, trapped in a way of life they could do nothing about. Then Moses arrives on the scene! (You might have heard of him: baby in bulrushes/Egyptian prince/burning bush/parting the sea/Ten Commandments…yep, that Moses!) Moses liberates the people and as they journey from enslavement to freedom they find themselves, as Sid described in his talk at church last week, “needing something to hang their day off, a moral compass and good, strong healthy practices to allow them to thrive.”

The concept of Sabbath, a day of rest, was not an onerous law the Israelites now had to keep, it was a gift. The instruction to observe the Sabbath was for their own wellbeing, not a another rule, not another opportunity to fail. It was an instruction for people who didn’t know how to rest, who had been slaves to more powerful force which never let them rest. Sabbath rest was an invitation into a new way of being human that they had not experienced.

Our slavery might not be as obvious as that of the Israelites. Yet, what if there are subtle forces at work around us? A social media network that beckons us in, the urge to check the phone for messages or emails, despite the fact it’s only been ten minutes since the last time? What about that voice that whispers ‘work the overtime’ or the favour you say yes to even though you’d told yourself not to take anything else on? What if our culture is quite driven to “do”? What if we’re slaves to something? Busyness, achievement, people pleasing, success or just feeling good enough? There are so many things we do without really asking ourselves why we’re doing them. What if those things are OK as long as we know we’re still able to say no; walk away; stop; at least every now and again!

Rest, a day off, a change of routine, family time, leaving the phone at home, voluntarily shutting the computer down at 5pm, choosing not to complete the to do list; whatever it might look like for you, rest seems important. The motorway signs tell us “tiredness can kill”… it can! It can kill enthusiasm, it can kill desire, it can kill joy, it can kill creativity. What if we are a little tired; tired of the routine, tired of the constantness (not sure that’s a word!) and tired of the rat race (the problem with the rat race being that even if you win you’re still a rat!!*) What if we really do need rest?

What if rest is where creativity, desire, enthusiasm and joy are rejuvenated, re-imagined, restored? What if rest is where we get to really listen to ourselves and to the universe? What if when we rest we find that creativity flourishes? What if from a place of rest we can discover that awesome lesson plan, that radical presentation, that new suggestion the boss needs to hear, the direction that project needs to head in or that career path, that hobby, that friend we’ve not seen, that child we’ve not properly chatted to for over a week? What if rest allows us to see from a different perspective and re-approach life with a fresh vision?

It’s out of “rest” that ‘prodigal’ is growing…the dream; idea; vision; the possibility of exploring together who we are and who the divine might be, and from that place looking for ways to really live out community, genuinely caring for those around us. (We’ve written a few pages of ideas and concepts which I’ll post as a blog just in case you’re interested!)

So I know from my own story that rest changes things. If you’ve read my previous blog ‘the one about the journey’ you’ll know that we’re in a time of transition. These few months have offered a change of pace, a different routine. I’m not sure it’s what we’d of chosen but it has allowed space; providing an opportunity to stop, think, listen, talk, plan, see differently. It feels like an opportunity to rest from the ‘normal’. It’s not been easy but then birthing something new rarely is, but it is always worth it!

*One of my favourite quotes! Source unknown!!

The one about…love (again?)

“Marian Diamond, one of the grandes dames of neuroscience, is known for her work on how experience molds brains…to develop properly, she told us, the brain must have certain experiences: good diet, exercise for good blood flow, challenges and love.

‘You know, I say that part about love in all my lectures and the men all laugh. They are scientists and they know it’s true, but they won’t say it,’ she said, as she carefully tucked the brain back in its tupperware bowl and closed the lid on the flowered hatbox. ‘Then, after the lectures, you know what those men want? They all want a hug,'”*

I’ve been reading a book called ‘Why are they so weird? What’s really going on in a teenagers brain.’ It’s a fascinating read and helpful as I attempt to navigate life with my tribe…but those paragraphs really connected with me. Love, it seems is really quite important, even the scientists agree!

But why? What is it about love that’s so important? What does love even look like? Is it that warm, fuzzy feeling we get when all is well in our “world”? Do I only feel it when the children are happy/ healthy/ behaving? Do they only feel loved when I say “I love you” or hug them or buy them something? I’m told God loves me and Sid says he loves me but what difference does that make when I’ve been yelled at about an unwashed PE kit, the missing script for the play, a forgotten water bottle and the inconvenience of putting shoes on, all in the space of half an hour! The barrage of abuse can leave you feeling drained, especially when your two year old wouldn’t sleep and you spent most of the night in bed with him. Where does love feature in that!? I’m feeling something but I’m not sure it’s love! So what is this love thing? Does love change anything when your world is shaken or when the story that’s unfolding is not what you hoped for and it hurts? What does love look like and does it make a difference? Those have been my thoughts since I wrote the last blog.

A guy called Pete Rollins writes a lot about love (and I mean a lot…he has such mind blowing philosophical theological way of attempting to understand life…read his books…honestly!) He wrote this:

Love is the crazy, mad, and perhaps ridiculous gesture of saying yes to life, of seeing it as worthy of our embrace and even worthy of our total sacrifice.*2

What does it mean to say yes to life, to embrace life? Maybe we say “yes” when we get up, carry on, force a smile, stop and take a breath, slow down, make that phone call, change that plan, have that conversation, give that hug, write that message, mop that floor, open those curtains, the list could go on. I don’t know what saying “yes” looks like for you or how you embrace life but it often requires something more of us, we often have to dig deep and find an energy we didn’t know we had…and that energy? Love? What if there’s something powerful about saying yes to life, despite the tears, the fear, the uncertainty, because as we do, this force we call love transcends the moment?

What if love, actively choosing life, saying “yes” and embracing life, keeps these momentary (although sometimes seemingly eternal) problems, fears, frustrations, heartbreaks, in their place? In some senses all that we have is this moment, the past had gone and the future is unknown no matter how much we think we know. But what if we find each ‘now’, each moment, features in a bigger story at work in the world, a story which is more than the now, a story bigger than any one moment, or person, or power, or government, or leader, or illness, or celebrity, or prisoner, or child, or mother, or father, or sister, or brother or even death? A story that is held by love, a story which has existed from the beginning and continues into forever. What if in that story love has the first and the final say, we just get to play our part, and our part makes the story interesting but it isn’t the whole story!

Love then is not something we own, or something we wait to receive. Love is not something that relies on there being another to love. Love certainly isn’t just a word.

Peter Rollins suggests:

God is not approached as an object that we must love, but as a mystery present in the very act of love itself.

What if love is not something that is given but rather is understood as an action, or an attitude to life; and in that act of love we say yes to life, in that expression of love we recognise life as worthy of giving our deepest self to, sometimes in the inconvenience and the rethinking of plans because sometimes love requires us to sacrifice one way for a new way. As we love, as we give of ourselves to that moment and find ourselves in the bigger story, that’s when the mystery is manifest, the force, spirit, energy, divine otherness, God becomes more tangible, more real. That’s where we find that “God’s love” really does make a difference and “God’s love” changes everything because God is love.

*All credit to Barbara Strauch for her research and writing!

*2 The Idolatry of God: Breaking our addiction to certainty and satisfaction.

The one about…the prodigal pine cone!

Did you know that pine trees produce male and female pinecones? The female cones carry the seeds, and each female seedcone has two seeds in each of its scales…I tried to count the scales, there are a lot! There are a lot of pine cones on a tree (although apparently they take 2-3 years to grow so a tree never sheds all its pine cones at once!)…that said, that’s a lot of seeds from one tree! Pine trees are prodigal with seeds…doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue does it but there’s something about that word ‘PRODIGAL’…
prod·i·gal

adjective

1. spending money or using resources freely and recklessly; wastefully extravagant.

2. Having or giving something on a lavish scale.

Nature is prodigal, it’s also messy but it’s more than just mess, it’s lavish and extravagant and bountiful…which can also seem wasteful and excessive and imprudent! There’s something about the mess that is extravagantly excessive!

Yet we so often forget that the forces which surround us, whether we see that as a force of nature or a divine force, are excessive and bountiful and extravagant. Instead we live with scarcity.

Lynne Twist, in her book called ‘The Soul of Money’ writes

For me, and for many of us, our first waking thought of the day is “I didn’t get enough sleep.” The next one is “I don’t have enough time.” Whether true or not, that thought of not enough occurs to us automatically before we even think to question or examine it… before we even sit up in bed, before our feet touch the floor, we’re already inadequate, already losing, already lacking something. And by the time we go to bed at night, our minds are reaching with a litany of what we get, or didn’t get done, that day….This internal condition of scarcity lives at the very heart of our jealousy, our greed, our prejudices, and our arguments with life…(pg 43-45)

Scarcity; restricted quantity, not enough, shortage, lack…those are the beliefs that permeate our culture! We’re constantly bombarded with messages that tell us time is running out, that encourage us to ‘get it before it’s gone’ or taunt us with that ‘once in a lifetime opportunity’…we stock up for Christmas even though shops are only closed for a day or we start shopping in September because the shelves are full and whispering to us that we’ll not get it all done in time!

If it’s not time that’s scarce then it’s resources, or hope, or joy. Have you ever been in a conversation where it seems as though the other person is trying to out do you on how busy they’ve been or how hard their day was? Like the scene from Notting Hill where they try to prove they have the ‘saddest act’ to get the last brownie. There’s something about a ‘being hard done by’ attitude that is fed by feelings of scarcity because the flip side is celebration of all there is and all we have. It’s as though scarcity feeds some kind of fear. This fear tells us that if I actually admit I’m happy, excited, joyful it might change or the fear suggests that this moment might be part of my happiness quota so I’d best not waste it on enjoying doing homework with the kids!

It seems we’re good at scarcity which is maybe why there’s a story in the bible, often called the prodigal son. The son is prodigal because he takes his inheritance before his father dies and wastes it on ‘wild living’ (whatever that is?!). He’s reckless and excessive, and so eventually the money goes and with it the friends he’d made until he’s left feeding pigs (not the top job in Jewish culture!!). The son ‘comes to his senses’ and returns to his father, ready with a speech about how wrong he’s been and how he doesn’t deserve anything…but the father, the prodigal father, lavishes gifts and unstinting celebration on his returning son.

It’s a feel good story of forgiveness and welcome and generosity… (although the actual ending is a bit obscure; there’s a jealous older brother who’s reluctant to accept the prodigals and we’re not told the outcome of that!) The story would of played havoc with the culture of the day, was Jesus actually suggesting that God could be that reckless and extravagant and excessive??

The thing is, all of creation points to a God that is just that, a God, a force, a power that gives without measure, that suggests there is enough to go around and that time is eternal…this power, this force invites us in to a flow, or a dance of extravagance rather than scarcity, of celebration rather than fear, of generosity rather than greed, of life rather than death. We’re invited to come to our senses!

What if we choose to believe this truth? What if that leads us to be people who enjoy the moment rather than endure it? What if we’re people who dare to admit we’ve had a good day rather than list all the occasions where it was a bit full on? What if we’re people who look for the opportunities within our hectic schedules to enjoy all that there is and in doing so realise that some things can wait? What if believing there is enough in our world for everyone means we genuinely start to look for opportunities to share more fairly? What if believing there isn’t a lack means we don’t need to stockpile at the expense of others because we will all get a share? What if somewhere in the extravagance of the pinecone there’s an invitation to life in all it’s fullness, to a life of richness and meaning that’s not based on material wealth but on an unending supply of all that we really need!

The one about…celebration!

There’s something so quintessentially English about a village show and the annual event in our village is no exception. The whole community is represented with vegetables grown, pictures drawn, stories written, paper planes thrown, beer brewed, cakes baked, photos taken, fruit picked, wine fermented, flowers arranged, tea poured and paintings erm…painted(?!?)… it’s a celebration of creativity as members of the community bring their entries and place them on display! I guess there’s some element of competition and comparison as all the entries are judged and rosettes and trophies are awarded but it’s all in good humour as the scope of creativity within the village is realised! It’s quite humbling!

It was a weekend of celebration for our family at the end of August as we also had the delight of attending my brothers wedding. The intimate gathering of family and close friends participated in a moment of genuine beauty as my brother and his bride made their vows and exchanged rings, all with their two year old daughter swinging from their hands. It was as if my nieces innocent playful engagement brought a kind of spontaneous energy to the ceremony and enabled everyone to really relax and simply be present too. That moment was a celebration of love and of family, which continued throughout the day and into the night!

Celebration is woven into the fabric of our humanity. We see it across the world as ‘holidays’ are celebrated, anniversaries remembered, rituals performed, and festivals and feast days are observed; every culture creating its own, often unique, ways to celebrate. The Jewish culture is no different. The biblical texts reference seven Jewish festivals;

Beginning in the spring, the seven Jewish feasts are Passover, the Feast of Unleavened Bread, the Feast of Firstfruits, the Feast of Weeks, the Feast of Trumpets, the Day of Atonement, and the Feast of Tabernacles. The Jewish feasts are closely related to Israel’s spring and fall harvests and agricultural seasons. They were to remind the Israelites each year of God’s ongoing protection and provision.

These celebrations were regular reminders for the Jews of who they were, where they’d come from, and some argue, a pointer to where they were going.

Celebration offers a way of remembering, of acknowledging all that is and has been, a way of giving thanks and of showing gratitude. Celebration invites others in, it places us within a larger story, gives us a history, as well as setting a path for the future. In the biblical text celebration is often commanded, as if the people needed permission or reminding:

“This is a day you are to commemorate; for the generations to come you shall celebrate it as a festival to the Lord—a lasting ordinance.

The king gave this order to all the people: “Celebrate the Passover to the Lord your God, as it is written in this Book of the Covenant.”

Sometimes celebration is spontaneous but there are also times when we celebrate through ritual or because it’s the right thing to do. There are even times when we have to choose to celebrate despite our feelings, not because of them. All celebrations have their place because there’s something about finding ourselves in a bigger story that seems important to our own story. The root of the word celebration grounds it in community, a ritual or a rite ‘frequented in great numbers’. Celebration is never in isolation.

This idea of a bigger narrative, something which helps to make sense of our world might be why so many people return to church, or temple or perform some element of ritual to mark the important occasions in life. I chatted to a friend who said he felt hypocritical having a wedding in church because he didn’t regularly attend. While I kind of understand what he was saying, there is something about love and marriage that, for so many people, commands reverence and respect, and inspires a desire to honour that love within a bigger story. If church offers a sense of history, of connection to something bigger; something other or to a something or someone that holds their love, then that’s not hypocrisy, that’s a genuine search for meaning. It’s the same with celebrating the gift of a child, there’s something humbling about placing new life within the bigger story of family and human history, maybe eternal history, it’s also something to do with gratitude and wonder, an expression of thankfulness to ‘something other’ that requires celebration.

So, for many a new season begins, as children return to school, as students leave for university or as new apprenticeships or jobs are started, as summer is left behind, this new season invites celebration. For some it’s tinged with sadness or fear, for others excitement and anticipation… but there is cause for celebration as we remember what’s been, are grateful for what is and look to all that’s ahead. As we journey onwards, let’s not be afraid to celebrate, whether it’s the more solemn celebration of a life gone but lived or an energy injected celebration of another year on planet earth or simply the joyful recognition of a brand new day (a little like the cockerel in the Peter Rabbit film), let’s look to create our own moments of celebration and in doing so find ourselves part of a story so much bigger than just our own.

The one about…what we forgot!

There are reminders all around us of a truth we’ve forgotten, the truth that the very essence of who we are is good. The truth that the centre of our being is holy, right and beautiful. Autumn brings these reminders to us in such generous proportions as the air freshens and the trees shout of the faithfulness of the universe! The conkers are starting to fall and I feel a strange kind of awe, I watch the children as they find creative ways of breaking the unopened outer cases to reveal the shiny, smooth conker inside! It’s a reminder of the beauty that creation holds, a reminder that there’s goodness within all that’s created, no matter how spiky the outer appearance!

Yet so often we don’t see the goodness, and sadly much of Christian teaching suggests we’re not good enough, that we failed before we even began, it’s the doctrine of original sin; it haunts us and inhibits our ability to be fully alive. Even if we don’t subscribe to a religion, or that strand of one, there is a whisper around us that we are not enough; not successful/thin/wealthy/fit/popular/clever/________ enough! This belief, whatever angle it is approached from, is damaging.

It has damaged our relationship with the divine. God is seen by many as a wrathful figure who needs appeasing. There are even hymn lyrics to that effect! The death of Jesus becomes about changing the mind of God about humanity rather than the ultimate act of love that changed the mind of humanity about God!*

It’s not only our understanding of the divine that has been skewed; the idea that we are sinful from birth, or that we are not good enough, has implications for our relationship with others from a personal to an international level. If we submit to the doctrine of original sin or the lies of ‘not enough’ then we don’t trust the fundamental goodness of the other instead we fear, judge and often hate simply because we can’t see deep enough to see the truth.

The teaching of original sin and the lies of not enough also damage our relationship with ourselves, we begin to really believe we’re not good and to compensate we fill our lives with things that makes us feel better about ourselves, anything that holds meaning, even if the meaning isn’t rooted in truth. We try to prove to ourselves, others, even a higher being, that who we are, what we have and what we’ve achieved is acceptable. I talked with a friend who told me of an elderly lady, who on her death bed did not feel ‘good enough’ for what was coming next, which suggested she’d never discovered the truth about herself; that she is good.

What if the Jesus story is a reminder of the truth that we are good? What if the teaching of Jesus is, at it’s very heart a call back to our true self? What if Jesus speaks of a different way because the way we so often choose isn’t good for us, isn’t the way of the soul? What if religion, at it’s very essence, is about reminding us of this truth? What if religion is about creating ways for us to step aside from the lies we’ve come to believe and actually connect with who we really are. Sid found this quote:

Religion:
The root, ‘re ligio’ (latin) rebinding re-ligamenting is not doing its job if it only reminds you of your distance, your unworthiness, your sinfulness, and your inadequacy before God’s greatness.

Reconnect
re = again
ligare = connect

What if our understanding of Jesus; of church or of our religion, has the ability to reconnect us with the truth about ourselves? What if the Jesus story offers us the truth about all we have ever been, all we are and all we can be. Truth that says “we are enough”. A truth that has been forgotten but a truth that calls to us in the most unlikely of places.

There’s a Jennifer Lopez song called ‘Feel the Light’, used in the movie “Home”…

Feel the light
Shining in the dark of night
Remember what we forgot
I know it’s a long shot
But we’re bringing it all back
We’re bringing it all back
Feel the light
Shining like the stars tonight
Remember what we forgot
I know it’s a long shot
But we’re bringing i
t all back

There’s something so deep, so mysterious to remembering ‘what we forgot’. There is a light that shines into our story, even in the darkest of moments, that reminds us of who we are, that brings it all back and allows us the opportunity to re-imagine religion, reconnect with ourselves, and restore a right understanding of the divine. There’s a call to return home. There is also something about a reclamation of orginal goodness that could change our world!

*A Richard Rohr quote and then lots of thoughts inspired by J.P.Newell’s book ‘Christ of the Celts’- worth a read!