A Chain Begins with Two Links

 This week's quote reads, "I would now be ready for a chain of happy circumstances."

 

And I thought, o-kay... what does that mean? It is a statement of hope for a happy future, but surely there is more to it than that? Then it struck me: a chain begins with two links. If there is only one link, it is not a chain, it is a loop. Going nowhere. So perhaps in order to be happy, in order to experience "happy circumstances" we need to open our single loop and make connections with other people, get involved in the world around us. 

Which takes vulnerability, trust and courage. When we look around our world and see so much senseless hatred (witness the dreadful attack on the Heaton Park Synagogue in Manchester yesterday - my heart goes out to all the people involved, suffering for the idiocy of the Israeli government) our instinct can be to hunker down, draw up the drawbridge and hide. It takes courage to stand up and protest, to reach out with compassion. As my own faith community, the Unitarians, have done. Yesterday, when news of the attack began to spread, the following statement appeared on Facebook:

"We are shocked and saddened by today's attack at Heaton Park Synagogue in Manchester. We know that this will be felt deeply by Manchester's Jewish community, their families and their wider communities, particularly on the holy day of Yom Kippur.

We stand for peace and oppose violence in all its forms.

An attack on any place of worship is an attack on all who value freedom of faith and conscience. Places of worship should be sanctuaries; safe spaces for reflection, community and spiritual life. As Unitarians, we are committed to interfaith solidarity and to building communities where people of all faiths and none can live without fear. That commitment matters most in moments like this.

Rev Cody Coyne, minister of Cross Street Unitarian Chapel, Manchester City Centre, and President of the Manchester District Association, said: 'It can feel so much like hate is winning; but I think how each act is met with people running in to care for the victims, give solace to the bereaved, and in some cases placing their lives on the line for the sake of others. For each person committed to violence there is an overwhelming chorus calling us to act for peace and support.'"

This is how chains of connection are built - by standing up for what we know is right and refusing to allow hate to win. Every time we stand up for love and oppose mindless hate, a new link is forged.

Finding True Rest and Peace

 In this frantic century of ours, it can be difficult to find true rest and peace. Ferdinando Galliani, the 18th century Italian economist, who was also a leading figure of the Enlightenment, once wrote, "True peace can only lie in the truth."

Perhaps he means that we can only be at peace when we allow ourselves to be our truest, most authentic selves. When we are not trying to put on a show, put our "best face forward" and hide what we are really feeling. As though it is not allowed for us to feel tired, edgy, out-of-sorts.

Brené Brown has this to say about perfectionism: "Perfectionism is not about healthy achievement and growth. Perfectionism is the belief that if we live perfect, look perfect, and act perfect, we can minimise or avoid the pain of blame, judgement and shame. It's a shield.... Perfectionism is, at its core, about trying to earn approval and acceptance. Most perfectionists were raised being praised for achievement and performance... Somewhere along the way, we adopt this dangerous and debilitating belief system: I am what I accomplish and how well I accomplish it. Please. Perform. Perfect."

I am a recovering perfectionist and a striving good-enougher. I have come to understand that perfectionism is exhausting and debilitating, and that good enough really *is* good enough, 99.99% of the time. If I had not learned this lesson, by trying and failing, and learning to receive feedback without falling apart, I would not have become a published author, for example. I would not have dared to submit anything less than a perfect MS to any publisher. 

Authenticity matters. Being our true selves matters. Letting go of what other people think matters. To quote Brené Brown again, 

"Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we are supposed to be and embracing who we are. Choosing authenticity means

    * cultivating the courage to be imperfect, to set boundaries, and to allow ourselves to be vulnerable

    * exercising the compassion that comes from knowing that we are all made of strength and struggle

    * nurturing the connection and sense of belonging that can only happen when we believe that we are enough."

Ever since I discovered her book, The Gifts of Imperfection,  more than a decade ago, I have done my best to live authentically. It ain't easy, but oh my goodness, it has made me feel so much more whole. So much more at home in my skin. As Galliani says, "True peace can only lie in the truth."

The Spirit of Liberty

 Each year, I buy a set of 53 postcards from Harenberg Kalender, which comprise a lovely image and an inspirational quote for each week of the year. And, although they couldn't have known it, this week's quotation, by the Renaissance author and philosopher Niccolo Machiavelli,  is most applicable: "The spirit of liberty no violence subdues, no time erases, no gift makes up for."

I am sure that you, like me, have been horrified by the Russian invasion of the Ukraine, by the violence which is going on there. My Facebook feed has been filled by reactions to this unjustified invasion of a democratic country. 

It is, perhaps, difficult to imagine what we can do in the face of such armed aggression. We have made a donation to the Red Cross appeal and this weekend I will be going through my wardrobe to sort out some clothing to take to a local collection point.

And, although "no gift makes up for" the loss of liberty, it might help those Ukrainians who have been forced to flee from the violence. 

The point is, we can all make a difference, however small, where we are. I came across a beautiful poem by the American poet, John Roedel, which both embraced his feelings of despair about this terrible war, but also shared some hope. He wrote, "I can't force peace on the world, but I can become a force of peace in the world, because sometimes all it takes is a single lit candle in the darkness to start a movement."

He suggests that "the only thing [we] can do is love the next person [we] encounter without any conditions or strings, to love our neighbor so fearlessly that it starts a ripple that stretches from one horizon to the next."

We may not, as individuals, be able to do much about the situation in Ukraine (although we can of course write to our MPs to ask that Ukrainian refugees will be made welcome here, make donations, take part in vigils and pray for peace, to give just four examples). But I do believe that we can all make a difference to the world in which we live by following Roedel's advice and loving the next person we encounter "without conditions or strings."

Because the power of unconditional love is enormous. If each one of us genuinely tried to love our neighbour, which means each person we meet, and to treat each one with the utmost equity and respect, to see each and every one of them as "unique, precious, a child of God", I believe it will make a positive difference, where we are. And who know where the ripples might end?

Letting Go (reprise)

Ajahn Chah, the Thai Buddhist monk, had some good advice for our times, "If you let go of something, you are a little happier. If you let go of a lot, you are a lot happier. If you let go completely, you are free.

And yes, I am aware of the benefits of letting go of my worries, my to-do lists, and so on. I blogged about it here some time ago. And still find that wonderful Lynn Ungar quote "Gone to the fields to be lovely, be back when I'm through with blooming" both inspirational and aspirational. In this glorious Spring weather we're having, I make a point of walking alone in Salcey Forest each morning, to re-centre my self and ready myself for the day.

But I'm not sure I'll ever attain the true Nirvana which Ajahn Chah is talking about. I'll never be able to "let go completely". And that's okay. Yet being aware of my predilection to get bogged down by "the small stuff" has helped me to let at least some of it go. My daily sitting practice and daily walk both help, but if I have a bad week, and start to feel that rather than waving, I am drowning (thank you, Stevie Smith) I have found two prayers in particular most helpful. One is very well-known; it is by St Teresa of Avila:

Today, may there be peace within.

May I trust God that I am exactly where I am meant to be.

May I not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.

May I use those gifts that I have received,

and pass on the love that has been given to me.

May I be content knowing I am a child of God.

May this presence settle into my bones,

and allow my soul the freedom

to sing, dance, praise and love.

It is there for each and every one of us.

The other is by Pat Preece, a Unitarian worship leader from the south-east. It reads:

We are blessed to have the habit of prayer.

To know that we can pause.

We can take time to breathe and be still.

The whirlwind of thought

can slow and in that moment

we can loosen tensions

and anxiety.

In the woods of our lives

we can stand and see

the beauty of the trees - 

we can enjoy the shade of the leaves.

And when we have rested,

we can face the world again - 

strengthened in peace

and calm.

Amen

When I read either of these powerful prayers, I can feel my worries slipping away, and a sense of peace invading my soul. Letting go is hard, but it is surely a blessing.

Peace in Community

I've just spent four wonderful days at the Annual Meetings of the General Assembly of Unitarian and Free Christian Churches - one day at the Ministers' Pre-conference, and the other three at the Annual Meetings.

photo by Rory Castle-Jones

As usual, it was wonderful to catch up with friends, many of whom I have not seen since last GA (as the Annual Meetings are affectionately known).

The Ministers' Pre-conference included a gorgeous session about Metta meditation, led by Maud Robinson, which included a twenty-minute practice of this loving-kindness meditation. In retrospect, it set the scene for the whole GA, at least for me.

The AGM of the Unitarian Peace Fellowship was on the first afternoon of the Meeting proper. The Peace Fellowship was founded in 1916, the depths of World War I, and for the last few years, the theme of the gathering following the AGM has been connected to the centenary commemorations of this bloody, futile war.

But this year, 2019, our theme was "Where do we go next?" Nearly a hundred people turned up (twice as many as normal), and the discussion that followed was rich and fascinating. The hunger for peace, for Unitarians to be involved in social action related to peace, was palpable in the room.

Then later, it was time for Peace Vespers, led by the current ministry students. Again, the turn-out was greater than usual, and it was a gentle, peaceful end to the first day of the Meetings.

The following morning, I attended the morning meditation led by Richard Bober of the Meditation Fellowship, which grounded me for the busy day ahead.

In the evening, the Anniversary service was conducted by Maria Curtis and Andy Phillips, on the theme Knowing Our Place - an impassioned plea for humankind to take care of our world and each other.

On the final morning, the motion on knife crime was passed - more evidence of our desire for peace in our communities. At the end of the session, our Peace Fellowship Treasurer, Celia Cartwright, was inducted as President of the General Assembly.

I came home on Thursday afternoon feeling comforted and strengthened for the year ahead. I had experienced peace in our beloved community.

Foundations of Faith

The other day, a Unitarian friend commented: "A religion or a faith (any faith, or any philosophy for that matter) that needs to be defended with aggression or arrogance is not a faith or religion that I recognise as true and it is not a 'strong' faith with a good foundation but a weak one that seeks to cover up its own shakiness."

In the light of recent terrorist activities around the globe, this really rang true with me. Although I would not describe the DAESH / ISIL terrorists as representing anything but their own extremist insecurities - they are certainly not representing Muslims. Practically every post I have seen on Facebook since the bombings in Paris and Beirut have sought to express the outrage that ordinary Muslims feel about these attacks, which are being perpetrated against everything they believe in.

But I think these words also have wisdom for my own Unitarian context. While Unitarians on different parts of the belief spectrum are not likely to descend to actual bodily violence against each other, there can be some pretty fierce altercations on Unitarian pages on Facebook.

Which I find very ironic, since, in the words of the founding father of Unitarianism in Transylvania, Francis David: "We need not think alike to love alike." Cliff Reed, Minister Emeritus at Ipswich, puts it this way;

" The Unitarians are a community of people who take their religion, or their spirituality, liberally. That is to say, we hold that all people have the right to believe what their own life-experience tells them is true; what the promptings of their own conscience tells them is right. We say that each person's spiritual or intuitive experience deserves respect; that everyone's deep reflection and reasoning on religious and ethical questions should be taken seriously.

Unitarians form a movement that tries to put these affirmations into practice. Our local religious communities offer a setting where people can worship, explore, and share faith together in an atmosphere of freedom and mutual respect."

A few years ago, I would have said that I agreed with Cliff's statement completely. But I now believe that while people have the right to *believe* what their life experience and conscience tells them to be true, it is *essential* that these ideas pass the Pagan test of "so long as they don't harm anyone else."

In other words, if anyone feels the need to defend their beliefs with aggression or arrogance, as my friend said, then perhaps they need to go back to the Golden Rule, and consider whether what they are writing or saying is likely to upset or offend others. This is not to say that people should not stand up for their beliefs, but that they should do so in a respectful manner.

We are all human beings - surely we can at least try to live together in peace?

A Plea for Peace and Compassion

There are certain things I believe, and believe passionately, that some, with their different views of the world, do not believe. And it is hard for me to see these cherished beliefs trampled into the dust by their insistence that their reality is the only true one.

I believe that peace is to be worked for, and witnessed for, and struggled for, and that war and violence and automatic retaliation should only be the very, very last resorts, not the automatic go-to solution. I believe that the governments of the Great Powers, mainly in the West, but also in Russia and China and Saudi Arabia, are so invested in the arms trade, and in violence and intolerance and hatred of the Other (whoever the Other might be) that there is little hope for peace.

Which makes the need to witness for the possibilities that peace and compassion bring ever more urgent, day by day.

I believe that Western privilege and widespread Western, white, male, Christian blindness *to* that privilege, are facts. We simply cannot appreciate what it is like to be persecuted or picked on daily, simply on account of our religious beliefs, the colour of our skin, our sexual orientation, or our disabilities. The only one I have some insight into, being a woman, is male privilege. And even that is denied by many, in 21st century Britain.

I believe that only when we make the empathic attempt to show compassion, by learning from what others say and write about how it feels to be Muslim, or black, or gay, or transgender, or in any other way Not Like Us, that we have any hope of moving past that bastion of privilege and meeting people where they are. As human beings, each a child of God, each with the same divine spark within, each with the same potential for good or evil.

While my Facebook feed turns red, white, and blue as friends rightly react with shock and sorrow to the killings in Paris, similar events in Beirut a few days ago barely made the inside pages of the broadsheets. And the Syrian refugees, who are fleeing from the violence of these same terrorists, are suffering misery and hunger, illness and hopelessness day by day in their over-crowded, insanitary camps, where Death and disease stalk hand-in-hand.

And I want to say that if you really care about people, give some money or some warm clothing to the organisations trying to stem that tide of human suffering. It is by such small acts of kindness towards our fellow human beings, that the world will turn, and times will change.

The Greatest Remembrance of All

Part of a prayer by Unitarian minister Rev. Chris Goacher reads: "We gather in remembrance of those who have sacrificed their lives for the freedom and safety of others, but also in shame at the wars we have failed to stop and the actions taken in our name ... Let us dedicate our selves to the greatest remembrance of all - that war should be no more."

These few words really sum up my feelings on Remembrance Sunday - that we should be grateful to, and remember with respect, those who sacrificed their lives that we might have peace; but also in sad reflection on the indifferent use we have made of it. it is a desperate irony that World War One was called 'The War To End All Wars', and yet, one hundred years on, humankind still seems unable to stop the fighting, the bloodshed, the cruelty, and wars continue to be fought the world over, for reasons of fear, and misunderstanding, the hunger for power, and the despising of the other.

So how can we dedicate ourselves to that "greatest remembrance of all - that war should be no more?" How can we, as individuals, and as spiritual and religious communities, witness for peace? How can we 'do our bit'? How can we make a difference?

I think we have to start where we are. It's all about compassion - trying to empathise with other people by imagining ourselves in their shoes. I am not naive enough to believe that we can "make it all better" by witnessing for peace and compassion. But we can at least try to be compassionate, where we are. For every other person we encounter is also a human being, a child of God, utterly worthy of being treated with justice, equity and respect.

Perhaps we can each make a resolution to reach out in friendship to our neighbours, to our friends, and even to casually-met strangers. Perhaps if we witness for peace in our own lives, this might have a knock-on effect, as the people we show compassion to, show compassion to others in their turn and so on.Who knows what we might be able to achieve, if we are brave enough to reach out in friendship, reach out in compassion, witness for peace?

Ways of Remembrance

Earlier this week, my husband and I visited the National Memorial Arboretum, near Lichfield. I had had qualms about doing this, as I had expected it to be very much about "remembering our glorious dead", which as a pacifist, I struggle with.

But how wrong I was. We arrived about quarter to two, having spent the morning in Lichfield, and saw on the notices that there is a daily talk in the chapel at 2.00 pm. So we hung around the gift shop for a few minutes, where you could hardly move for things with red poppies on, and then headed over to the chapel.

Outside the door, there was a beautiful prayer for a better world, written by a 13 year old named Anna Crompton, which was not what I had been expecting. Here are the words:

The NMA volunteer told us a little about the history of the place, and about some particular memorials to look out for. And then we were free to wander as we willed.

Like most folk, we headed first for the main Armed Forces Memorial, which commemorates all the service men and women who have given their lives for their country since 1945 - since we have been "at peace". It consists of four concentric half circles, two on each side, and the names are arranged in chronological order, and then by service. So for each year, there is the list of names for Army, Navy, and Air Force. It has been designed so that on 11th November each year, the light of the sun focuses directly on it at 11.00 am. I found three things very poignant:

1. they have used up 227 panels so far, in the years since 1945.
2. there is a lot of blank wall left for future deaths.
3. to spot the name of Private Lee Rigby among the dead in 2013.

I felt tears pricking my eyes for the first time.

Then we wandered fairly randomly, stopping to look at whatever attracted our attention. One of the first I saw was a memorial to all the Jews who have laid down their lives for their country - Britain, not Israel. It had been dedicated a few years previously "350 years after Jews were readmitted to England", which I found terribly sad.

One thing I had spotted in the list of memorials on the map we had bought was a memorial to the Quaker Friends Relief Service, so we headed out to find it. When we got there, I was so filled with joy. It takes the form of four high-backed, stone settles, arranged in a loose circle, so that one could have a meeting for worship right there. On the facing part of each settle, the Quaker values of Peace, Simplicity, Truth and Equality are engraved, one on each.

There was also a beautiful memorial for individuals, divided into twelve monthly sections. Any family can buy an eternal poppy, and add the name of their loved one to the display. I found this really moving.

Of course, most of the memorials were military, and it was fascinating to see how beautiful and appropriate most of them were. The Signals Corps had a statue of Mercury, the Royal Welsh a great slab of Welsh slate, the Navy one of different colours of blue glass/perspex with a yellow panel representing the rising sun and an orange panel representing the setting sun, and so on. But there were also other memorials for those who had played supporting roles in times of conflict - the Women's Land Army, Bevin's Boys, the Royal National Lifeboat Institution, and memorials for dogs and horses, who had also given their lives.

As the afternoon wore on, we got tired, and headed back to the Visitor Centre for coffee and cake. And then realised that we hadn't seen a couple of memorials that the guide at the beginning had particularly mentioned, so we set out again. And I am so very glad that we did.

On the way, we came across one of the newest memorials, to the service personnel who had lost their lives in Iraq. And that was so sad to see. And then on to the lovely memorial for all the thousands of Poles who had given their lives for the Allied cause in World War II, when their own country didn't exist any more.

And we also came across some beautiful gardens of remembrance which had nothing to do with war at all - any member of the public can subscribe to buy a tree to remember a loved one. And there was one terribly sad section of trees dedicated to babies "born sleeping", or who had lived only a few days. And I saw one tree with two signs, for a husband and wife, who had died within eleven months of each other.

But not all the individual trees commemorated a death - one sign I saw celebrated a 65th wedding anniversary - how lovely!

Finally, we came to the new Shot At Dawn memorial, which is set in a corner of the 150 acre site, so that it is the first point to be touched by the light of dawn each day. It commemorates the 306 British and Commonwealth soldiers who were shot for cowardice or desertion during World War I. It consists of a single statue depicted with his hands tied behind his back, and a blindfold on, and behind him, the 306 individual stakes, each with a name. Once again, I was in tears.

And there was so much we didn't see. The NMA's strapline is "Where our nation remembers", and it is certainly that. I thought back to our morning visit to Lichfield Cathedral, with its memorials to the war dead of Staffordshire, and the long entombed bishops, and reflected on how life has changed. Today we commemorate our dead with living trees, in a secular, but most sacred, setting.

Silent Night, Holy Truce

Today I, and other ministers and worship leaders across the country, will be leading a Christmas service with a difference. I will be commemorating that special day in 1914, when ordinary soldiers at the Front "all the way from the North Sea to Switzerland" decided that their common humanity, their common Christianity, was more important than continuing to fight each other.

The Martin Luther King Peace Committee sent round a marvellous resource pack, entitled Silent Night, Holy Truce, from which I have obtained most of the material for the service. And I would like to share some words from this, and to reflect on them:

"Although the most famous, the Christmas truces weren't isolated incidents. They followed weeks of unofficial fraternisation by soldiers who discovered that, rather than being monsters, the other side were men like themselves, with a preference for staying alive rather than dying. Common humanity oftentimes broke through the propaganda images perpetrated by both sides. Throughout the entire war, many combatants managed, through the so-called 'live-and-let-live' system, to reduce discomfort and risk by complicated local truces and tacit understandings that enraged the high commands on both sides. Nonetheless, the truces are a key moment in the history of the period that reopened the possibility of a Europe based on peace and solidarity rather than imperial violence and nationalism.

We argue that the impromptu Christmas worship services held in no-man's land offer a glimpse of the church as it is meant to be, a new nation of peacemakers uniting former enemies in love and friendship as they celebrate the birth of Jesus."

And we Unitarians today can witness for peace too. Many individuals and congregations are members of the Unitarian Peace Fellowship, founded in the darkest days of the First World War. Members of the UPF "witness for peace and against the futility of war. Today our vision includes the ethos and values of the Charter for Compassion. The surest route to peace is through the compassion of human beings for each other, and for all living things. We support and encourage Unitarians in their witness for Peace and Compassion, locally, nationally, and internationally."

In this year of the centenary of the "war to end all wars", various countries around the world are in a state of bitter conflict with each other, or with themselves. The recent tragic massacre in Peshawar is just the most recent example of this. The efforts of everyone who believes in the possibility of world peace are needed, now more than ever. So that the sacrifice that the men in the Great War made, should not be altogether wasted.

I wish you a very Merry Christmas, and a Happy and Peaceful New Year.

Poppies for Remembrance and for Resolution

Throughout the country on Sunday, and yesterday, people wore a poppy to mark Remembrance Sunday / Armistice Day. It is one of the most potent symbols we have. I wore two poppies on both days - one red, and one white. And I would like to explain why. What colour poppy you wear, and indeed, whether you wear a poppy at all, seems to have become more and more politicised in recent years, which I find very sad.

 The red poppy is the more traditional one, sold by the Royal British Legion throughout the land. According to their current publicity, by buying and wearing a red poppy, the wearer is choosing to help bereaved families, wounded service men and women, younger veterans seeking employment and housing, and older veterans needing age-related care, to Live On.

And that is great, and I would support all those aims. I believe that we should honour the fallen, from all wars, and from all countries. In the words of Chris Goacher, "We gather in thankful remembrance of those who have sacrificed their lives for the freedom and safety of others." But I believe that we also need to find a better answer to the question posed by Canon Dick Sheppard, in 1936: "Of what would they wish us to think? Not that they were heroes; not that there was any special virtue in the manner of their dying; not of the tragedy of youth snuffed out; not even that we loved them, and still remember. They would wish us to think of what they died for."

The dead of the First World War died in a "war to end all wars." And yet, twenty years later, precisely because of the way the politicians made the peace after 1918, Europe and the world were embroiled in war once again, and all the sacrifice came to naught.

I am a pacifist, but I do believe that part of the meaning of Remembrance Sunday is that we should also remember the men and women who are currently serving in the armed forces, the world over, and acknowledge the high price they pay to defend us. Many do not return, and of those who do, many bear the physical and mental scars of conflict for the rest of their lives. And so do their families. And that deserves my respect.

What I am not so happy about is the adoption of the symbol of the red poppy by far-right organisations such as Britain First, or about the cynical fashion in which the present government is using it to make themselves look good. Nor about the underlying nationalism that has come to be associated with it. Nor am I happy about folk being criticised for not wearing one - surely it should be a matter of conscience? After all, nobody is criticised for not wearing (for example) a pink ribbon to support breast cancer awareness, or a Pudsey Bear badge to support Children in Need, so why should the poppy be different?

The white poppy is a symbol of peace. White Poppies for Peace made their first appearance on Armistice Day in 1933. With the rising domestic and international tensions at the time, concern grew that the war to end all wars, in which so many had died, would now be followed by an even worse war. The white poppy was an expression of that concern, and became a symbol of our inability to settle conflicts without resorting to killing, but more importantly, a symbol of hope and commitment to work for a world where better, more peaceful answers could be found. The white poppy’s aim is to promote debate and rally support for resistance to war. And as Secretary of the Unitarian Peace Fellowship, I am proud to wear my white poppy.

Some Unitarians today also wear a purple poppy. These are sold by Animal Aid, who explain "Throughout history, animals have suffered and died as a result of human conflicts. Animals killed as a result of human conflict are not heroes but victims. They do not give their lives, their lives are taken." I honour this position too, and may well wear a purple poppy next year, alongside the red and white.

The point of all this is, it doesn't matter so much what colour poppy you wear. What matters is whether wearing one and remembering the fallen, makes you want to work for a better world, in which veterans are looked after and respected, and governments really try to work for peace, instead of reaching for war as an off-the-shelf solution to the latest international problem.

When Will We Ever Learn?

It is easy to preach peace in time of peace and war in time of war. What is harder is to decide once and for all to repudiate war, and to stick to it, no matter what. Is there ever a 'just war'? I honestly don't know. But I know darn well, that even if the war starts off as fulfilling the Just War criteria, it doesn't stay that way for long.

 Listen to the words of Martin Bell, writing on the Movement for the Abolition of War website: "We have reached a state of affairs where for our own survival, and that of our planet, we cannot afford a future like our past.  We face new forces, of global warming and nuclear proliferation, which threaten our future as never before. I suggest there is a further danger, perhaps less obvious and unperceived, but just as far-reaching in its implications: this is that, for those who govern us, war has become not a last, desperate resort when all else has failed, but a policy option to be plucked off the shelf like any other. We have seen this most recently and appallingly in the war in Iraq. ... It was a war of choice - just as the Great War of 1914-18 was a war of choice."

It is now generally accepted that World War One was a senseless waste of human life. But most folk would argue that World War Two was justified, on the grounds that Hitler had to be stopped. However, like most wars, this too soon got out of hand, and both sides bombed civilians indiscriminately, culminating in the unprecedented horrors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

And today, this country, the United Kingdom, is one of the major players in selling armaments to the world, being the second biggest exporter after the United States. For example, as Jo Lewington writes: "The tension between India and Pakistan makes South Asia one of the most volatile regions of the world, yet the UK supplies arms to both countries. UK Government officials and ministers, of both major parties, actively promote these sales, with personal interventions and an active presence at arms fairs in both countries." We are also one of the two leading exporters of arms to Israel. Not a record to be proud of.

Which makes it ever more important that the witness for peace should be heard.

Hoping for Peace

This week has seen a number of significant and tragic anniversaries: 100 years ago on Monday, Britain declared war on Germany, and World War One started. 70 years ago on Monday, a Jewish family hiding in Amsterdam were betrayed, and Anne Frank and her family were sent to concentration camps. And 69 years ago on Wednesday and tomorrow, the Americans dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

It is now generally accepted that World War One was a senseless waste of human life. But many folk would argue that World War Two was justified, on the grounds that Hitler had to be stopped. However, like most wars, this too soon got out of hand, and both sides bombed civilians indiscriminately, culminating in the unprecedented horrors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

There may not have been a World War since 1945, but there has never been World Peace. And of course horror is being piled upon horror in Gaza, as I write this. And the rest of the Middle East is also unquiet, to say the very least. Not to mention Africa, and other parts of the world. As a human race, we seem to have learned nothing about living together in peace.

I believe that it is the responsibility of the living to make meaningful the sacrifices of the dead. Faith groups and others the world over are attempting to influence their government and fellow citizens to work towards a more peaceful happier world, in which war would no longer be necessary. We just all need to work together, and to keep at it, until humankind finally realises that peace is so much better than war, for everyone. There are so many ordinary people getting together, the world over, to work for peace and reconciliation. Let us hope that their voices are heard.

Most wars are allegedly fought to bring peace - a most ingenious paradox! We should remember the dead, but also pledge ourselves to make our world a better place - to end all wars, to relieve world debt, to feed the hungry, to find a cure for AIDS, to stop destroying our environment. It is still a beautiful planet, or it could be, if we could only learn to live together in peace.

Amen, Amen.

It Was Twenty Years Ago Today

It was twenty years ago today that the United States and Russia ceased targeting long-range nuclear missiles at each other. And yet, twenty years later, both still maintain considerable nuclear arsenals, at enormous expense, and now at least eight more countries (the United Kingdom, France, China, India, Pakistan, North Korea, Israel and Iran) have nuclear weapons. What is wrong with the world?

According to the Institute for Economics and Peace, an independent, non-partisan, non-profit research organisation dedicated to shifting the world's focus to peace as a positive, achievable, and tangible measure of human well-being and progress, "We are in an epoch different to any other epoch in human history. The problems we are facing are global in nature. They include climate change, ever decreasing biodiversity, full use of the fresh water on the planet, and, underpinning all these - overpopulation. Without peace we will be unable to achieve the levels of cooperation, inclusiveness and social equity required to begin solving these challenges, let alone empower the international institutions needed to regulate them."

And yet wars go on, continuously, all over the world. And their cost is enormous, not only in economic and pragmatic terms, but also, most importantly in human lives and the effects on the rest of creation.

They produce an annual Global Peace Index each year in June, and last year's makes grim reading. According to an article by Christina Smith in the latest issue of the Unitarian Peace Fellowship newsletter, "The total economic impact of containing violence is equivalent to 11% of global GDP (Gross Domestic Product) or US$ 9.46 trillion. If the world would reduce the cost of violence by 50%, it would generate enough money to repay the debt of the developing world, provide enough money for the European stability mechanism, and fund the additional amount required to fund the Millennium Development Goals."

So why, oh why, don't governments DO something about it? The 2014 Global Peace Index will be released on 18th June - let us see whether the last twelve months have made the world a more violent or a more peaceful place. And in the meantime, everyone who cares about the future of our world and its inhabitants should make their voices heard - peace is in our hands.

A Sense of Place

A few days ago, I spent the day exploring the land around Pendle Hill in Lancashire with my good friend. It is a new part of the world for me, and very beautiful, with its narrow winding roads bordered by dry stone walls, the autumn gold, yellow, green, orange, brown and bronze of the fields and trees, and the deep, deep blue of the sky.

image: www.fatgoatwalks.co.uk

And always, wherever we were, Pendle Hill, there in the background (or the foreground). It is a very distinctive part of the landscape.

The thing I found most interesting was how grounded my friend felt, here in her own place. I have never seen her so relaxed and settled. It is fascinating how much of an influence a place can have on a person. Sometimes it is only when we see people "on their native heath" that we see them whole. And it is something I feel in myself too - for example, as soon as I come within a couple of miles of the Nightingale Centre and Great Hucklow, I can feel a deep peace begin to settle within me. It is very much my spiritual home, the place where I feel at rest.

As usual, John O'Donohue says it best: "When you find a place in nature where your mind and heart find rest, then you have discovered a sanctuary for your soul. ...Perhaps nature senses the longing that is in us, the restlessness that never lets us settle. She takes us into the tranquillity of her stillness if we visit her. We slip into her quiet contemplation and inhabit for a while the depth of her ancient belonging. ... Nature calls us to tranquillity and rhythm. When your heart is confused or heavy, a day outside in nature's quiet eternity restores your lost tranquillity."

"Oh What A Lovely War!"

Last night, I went to see Oh What A Lovely War, the 1963 play by Joan Littlewood. The programme told me that it was first performed by Joan Littlewood's Theatre Workshop at the Theatre Royal, Stratford East in London. The programme notes continue: "It recalls the horrors of World War I through the humour and frivolity of a seaside pier show, mixing famous British war songs with gags and dances, and sets hilarious clowning against shocking factual documentation of the war's casualties. Its blatant denunciation of the incompetence of political leaders during World War I, depicting their readiness to sacrifice the common man to achieve their own political ends is shocking in its horrific results."

It was performed by our local village drama group, Group Eight, and they really surpassed themselves. Usually, they do either a comedy of manners or a detective story at this time of year, and it was inspiring to see how they rose to the challenge of doing something deeper and darker. I found it incredibly moving. The set was fairly simple, and the action took place either side of and in front of a screen, on which was projected the horrifying statistics of the actual war. It was very effective.

People's view of war changes over time. When World War I ended, the official view, according to Reg Grant, author of Armistice 1918, "was that it had been a tragic experience, but also one steeped with heroism and a sense of noble duty fulfilled ... This view did not exclude a recognition of the horrors suffered by the men at the front, but saw the suffering as justified by a high purpose."

There is nothing like a common cause to pull people together, and to bring out the best in them. Look at the saturation bombing during World War II. Its purpose, according to Sir Arthur 'Bomber' Harris was "to scourge the Third Reich from end to end. We are bombing Germany city by city and ever more terribly in order to make it impossible for her to go on with the war. That is our object, and we shall pursue it relentlessly." The Third Reich had similar ideas about Britain.

And did it work? Of course not. Everyone was united in diversity and became even more determined to hang on and beat the enemy. Morale was high, in spite of rationing and propaganda. The government-controlled media made sure that their messages would stiffen people's resolve to endure. The situation is much the same in Afghanistan today.

In times of peace, the views of the majority can be very different. For example, in the late 1920s and early 1930s, there was a wave of anti-war feeling, and the "Great War" came to be seen as a senseless waste of human life, (as was shown so graphically in the play last night) rather than heroic sacrifice. In 1933, the Oxford Union voted overwhelmingly in favour of the proposal that "this House will not fight for King and Country." This caused a great stir, because Oxford students were an elite in Britain, and were the sort of people who would be expected to form the officer class in time of war. Which of course, six years later, they did.

Like most people nowadays, I believe that World War I was so much futile slaughter, and that most of the wars since World War II have been fought on immoral grounds. But World War II is more difficult to decide about. Most people would say "Well Hitler had to be stopped, didn't he?" Yes, but would the Nazi party have come to power if the Treaty of Versailles hadn't been such a short-sighted and vengeful document? I do sometimes wonder whether we would have been any better if we had had to endure the appalling conditions the Germans did in the decade after the First World War ended.

The common humanity of humankind should be an overarching bond that prevents war. After the terrible events of 9/11, we saw this in action - people all over the world of whatever political complexion were united in horror at the toll of death and damage. We just need to be reminded of our common humanity. Often.

Surely there are better ways of resisting evil? Look at the Norwegians and their non-violent resistance during World War II. Look at Mahatma Gandhi. Look at modern day prisoners of conscience. Look at the women of Northern Ireland. Look at the women of Greenham Common. Look at Nelson Mandela. Look at pressure groups such as Global Zero, which is campaigning for the abolition of all nuclear weapons. If only enough people would take the trouble to think for themselves and to see past the accepted Government line, I am sure that the world could become a more peaceful place. But it seems that retribution is seen to be more important than peace in most people's minds. Why are revenge  and the need for reparation the first things that anyone thinks of if they are injured? Or is it me? Am I just an idealistic fool?

The thing that the play last night really brought home to me is that it is the responsibility of the living to make meaningful the sacrifices of the dead. It is the job of anyone who is horrified by the futility and slaughter of war to attempt to influence their government and fellow citizens to work towards a more peaceful, happier world, in which war would no longer be necessary. And I know that faith groups and peace organisations the world over are trying to do this - we just all need to work together, and to keep at it, until humankind finally realises that peace is so much better than war, for everyone.

Most wars are allegedly fought to bring peace - a most ingenious paradox! We should remember the dead, but also pledge ourselves to make our world a better place - to end all wars, to relieve world debt (which would be so much easier if we weren't spending all that money on weaponry), to feed the hungry, to find cures for diseases such as cancer and AIDS, to stop destroying our environment. It is still a beautiful planet, or it could be, if we could only learn to live together in peace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When will there be peace?

Ten years ago today, the largest ever anti-war rally in history took place, as millions of people in sixty countries expressed their opposition to the imminent war with Iraq. In spite of this, the war began on 20th March.

It is now well over fifty years since World War II, but since then, not a single day has passed in which there was not a war going on somewhere in the world - whether it was called a civil war or a "police action".

War is an expensive business, in every sense of the word. If all the money currently spent on defence were to be channelled into education, health and welfare; into feeding the hungry and housing the homeless, what a different world this would be.

If we reject the concept of war altogether, the alternative is pacifism. In the 1930s, an Anglican minister named Canon Dick Sheppard founded the Peace Pledge Union. Tens of thousands of people joined it, pledging never again to wage war. In her autobiography Testament of Experience,  Vera Brittain reports a discussion with her husband, George Catlin, on the issue of pacifism:

Vera Brittain

 Catlin wrote: "I will not stop to inquire whether pacifism as an absolute principle is sound. In measurable time you will not convert to it the majority of this great nation. and therefore (whatever one's private view) it will not, as a public fact, avert war."

Brittain argues that "the same argument applied to all forms of revolutionary teaching, costly and often dangerous to its interpreters, which visualised life in terms of a society still to come. The fallibe Apostles could never have hoped to convert the great Roman Empire to Christ's doctrines "in measurable time". But surely few would now say that the early Christian Church should have abandoned its task as too difficult, even though neither the lands once ruled by Rome nor the rest of humanity were converted even yet?"

She went on to join the Peace Pledge Union, and bore witness for peace for the rest of her life, often at considerable personal cost.

And yet, and yet. I have blogged before about my feelings about pacifism: "To fight or to take a pacifist line is one of the deepest and starkest choices of personal conscience. Is pacifism a cause worth fighting for? What a paradox. I speak as one who has a fairly volatile temperament at times, and one who is not a naturally pacific person. I admire Vera Brittain enormously, and the Quakers too. I am also deeply impressed by the realisation that we are all human beings, given life by God. What right have others to take that life away? What cause can possibly justify it? Not many, I think."

Maybe all that anyone can do is their best, where they are, to promote peace through following the Golden Rule in our lives, and trying to behave towards those we connect with, with loving-kindness, or compassion.

 

 

Back to Normal

The last few weeks have been wonderful. I have attended a retreat for ministerial students and probationers, spent a wonderful ten days in Poland with my husband, been at Summer School for a week, then back to Hucklow the following week for the Ministers' conference. And it has all been rich and nourishing and spiritually uplifting.

And now it's all over, and I am home, and it is good. While I was away, my usual regular activities have gone for a burton - I haven't been for a run since the end of July, my devotional practices have been scrappy, to say the least, and work has been dodged into spare moments. So I'm looking forward to the next few weeks - I'm going to run three times a week, get back to healthy eating (no more Hucklow cooked breakfasts!), get on top of all the things I need to do for work, and spend some quality time with my family. I'm also looking forward to leading worship at several different Unitarian congregations round the Midlands, which I really missed during August.

As I have said on this blog before, the quality of life is about finding a balance. The last few weeks were wonderful, but I couldn't live on those heights all the time. A little bit of "back to normal" is just what I need.

Can There Ever Be A Just War?

Last Tuesday I attended a debate at Kidderminster New Meeting House, on the question "Can there ever be a just war? It was an interesting evening ...

(c) bestclipartblog.com

Sandy Ellis (Evesham) opened the debate for the motion. His two main arguments were that the leader of any nation has a moral duty to defend its citizens, and that although war is an evil and barbaric thing, it can be justified if it is waged to defeat a greater evil. He went over the standard Just War critieria - that the cause is just, that it has been properly authorised, that there is right intention, that all other means of avoiding conflict have been explored, that it must be winnable, and that the force used is "proportionate". He also mentioned the internationally accepted guidelines about how a war should be conducted, for example, obeying international conventions, not injuring or killing non-combatants, and looking after prisoners of war. The decision to use force when all else has failed is a choice of the lesser of two evils. He concluded that the only way that evil can triumph is when the good man decides to sit by and do nothing.

Then Martin Layton, of Bewdley Quakers, opposed the motion. The main thrust of his argument was that the motives for war are never just; wars are usually started to protect a country's political and economic interests and to get more power. He stated that fear, hatred and revenge have powerful propaganda value, and that atrocities are considered in isolation, apart from root causes, in order to encourage over-simplified responses. He stated that authority is always self-legitimising, and commented on the fact that the five permanent members of the UN Security Council also dominate the international arms trade. War is all atrocity and outrage; it is impossible to contain, and only the victors get to dispense justice. He concluded that war is a business and a crime, and must be stopped.

Ian Kirby of Kidderminster seconded the motion. He argued that the just war principles place limits on warfare. He acknowledged that Christians struggle with warfare, but also that we shouldn't be passive in the face of aggression. Civil disobedience only works when there is a framework of law. We can't just sit by and let genocide happen - we need to intervene. He concluded by reiterating the just war principles mentioned above.

Moira Brown of Bewdley Quakers seconded the opposition to the motion. She mentioned the Quaker Peace Testimony; that it was about deeds, not creeds - a way of living. This is based on integrity, patience and love, not on adopting the ways of an oppressor. Justice is achieved not by war, but by peacemaking. She argued that the refusal to go to war is not surrender, and mentioned the two Quaker offices in Geneva and New York, which exist to facilitate dialogue between potential enemies. She concluded that wars create more problems than they solve.

My own view is this: that to justify war or to take a pacifist line is one of the deepest and starkest choices of personal conscience. Is pacifism a cause worth fighting for? What a paradox! I speak as one who has a fairly volatile temperament at times, and one who is not a naturally pacific person. I admire pacifists enormously. I am deeply impressed by the realisation that we are all human beings, given life by God. What right have others to take that life away? What cause can possibly justify it? Not many I think. I am also convinced by Martin Layton's argument that no war today can ever truly be called just, because economic and political interests and power are at the heart of every conflict.

Our world is riven by conflict, and it is hard not to feel despondent. Yet I also believe that the common humanity of humankind could be an overarching bond that prevents war - there is that of God, the divine spark, in everyone - and that the faith communities could and should do much to promote this. After 9/11, we saw this in action - people all over the world, of whatever political or religious complexion, were united in horror at the toll of death and damage. We just need to be reminded of our common humanity. Often. This is why the work of the Charter for Compassion is so important, so vital - it is trying to transcend boundaries, to break through fear and distrust, to the common humanity of humankind.

I

The Quest for Inner Peace

It can sound a bit like an advertising slogan: 'Inner peace and how to find it.' I have come to realise in recent years that inner peace is one of the most difficult things to obtain, and yet harder to hold on to. And I'm not the only one by a long way. Go into any bookshop, and look in the Mind and Spirit section. You will find the shelves groaning with titles like The Little Book of Calm or Chicken Soup for the Soul or De-stress Your Life in 30 Days (I made the last one up, but I'm sure that such a title exists). And there are DVDs you can buy to teach yourself yoga or pilates to regain control of your life. But as a Quakerly-inclined Unitarian, I believe that there has to be a God-element as well. I love the words of our Unitarian hymn:

"I sent my soul some truth to win; / my soul returned these words to tell: / 'Look not beyond, but turn within, / For I myself am heaven and hell.
And as my thoughts were gently led, / half-held beliefs were seen as true; / I heard, as new, words Jesus said: / 'My friend, God's kingdom lies in you.
Now though I labour, as I must / to build the kingdom yet to be, / I know my hopes will turn to dust, / if first it is not built in me."

Inner peace spiral by Carol Hansen Grey

As usual, the Quakers have got it spot on: number 3 of their Advices and Queries sums up what I am trying to say beautifully:

"Do you try to set aside times of quiet for openness to the Holy Spirit? All of us need to find a way into silence which allows us to deepen our awareness of the divine and to find the inward source of our strength. Seek to know an inward stillness, even amid the activities of daily life. ... Hold yourself and others in the Light, knowing that all are cherished by God."

I want to be able to do this so much, and yet it is so hard. How can we attain inner peace in the hurly-burly of everyday life? Most of us spend our lives rushing around from one task to the next - work, shopping, looking after the children, housework, laundry, socialising - the list is endless. People find it more and more difficult to relax, and to attain inner peace, because they've forgotten how to stop.

But we're not supposed to be like this. Every person needs to have some time to centre down, to be at peace, to recharge their emotional and spiritual batteries. I believe that one of the most important of God's creations is the Sabbath - a time to rest, to re-group, and come back to our everyday lives refreshed. One reason why my faith is so important to me is that it has taught me that there is another way of living your life, even if i don't follow it all (or even most of) the time.

There are times when being busy, busy, busy just gets too much. The thought crosses your mind "Stop the world! I want to get off!" But it won't stop, so you have to consciously make the effort to schedule some time to step off the treadmill. It may take a little creative selfishness to realise that you are quite entitled to do this, and quite a bit of planning to reschedule your activities, and find a free time-slot, but it can be done. It doesn't have to be a long time, this 'Me-time', even ten minutes can be enough (depending on what you are doing) it just needs to be regular and consistent.

What you do in your me-time will depend on you. The ideal for me is to follow the Quaker advice and "find a way into the silence which allows us to deepen our awareness of the divine and to find the inward source of our strength", although I find it very hard to stop my mind buzzing round and round, flitting from concern to concern. I have some prayer beads which I made at Summer School a couple of years ago, and they really help me to focus, and to let everyday life go.

Prayer can also lead to a deep sense of inner peace. I have friends who do this, and I am sure that it helps them to see more clearly and live their lives more serenely. Many people find that listening to a piece of really beautiful music can whirl their minds away, and they come back to earth with a bump at the end of the record. Reading something inspirational may also help - this is something I do a lot, to remind myself of what I'm supposed to be doing, and to regain my perspective.

Physical exercise is also a good way of achieving inner peace. I know that sounds weird, because flogging up and down a swimming pool or playing a game of football may seem the complete opposite of peaceful. But certain forms of exercise really do help you to relax and centre down. Yoga is an obvious one - the fact that you have to concentrate on your breathing clears the mind wonderfully. Personally speaking, I find that going for a gentle run is one of the best stress-busters in the world. If you're not pushing yourself too hard, and can get into an even rhythm, running can be very cathartic.

Going for a walk is another good method of relaxing and centring down. Again, the rhythm of your strides can be soothing, and if you start to pay attention to what you are seeing around you, there is beauty almost everywhere - whether it's a mountain, a star, the turn of a stream, or the bark of a tree, or the architecture of a particular building. Many people find that a spot of gardening, or doing a craft that you love, can have the same effect, if you do it in the right frame of mind.

All these things can bring you, in Sidney Lovett's words, "wisdom and patience and solace, and, above all, the assurance that you are not alone in the world."