Movement, Change and Transformation

 This week's quotation, by Hungarian spiritual writer, Elisabeth Haich, really struck a chord. "Life," she wrote, "is movement, change, transformation."

And of course, she's right. Much though we may hate to hear it, as often as we may kid ourselves that our lives are going on very much the same as they always have, it isn't true. I'm not the same person as I was yesterday, or last week, last month, let alone last year.

Because we live in a world where we are always encountering new things - new experiences, new people, new thoughts and ideas, new nudges from the Spirit. And we cannot help being changed by them. It may take us a while, screaming, protesting, and dragging at the hand that is trying to lead us forward, but we'll get there in the end.

How much better to be open to movement, change, transformation. To embrace it, even... I honestly believe that it is up to us to keep our hearts and minds and spirits open to new experiences, so that we may grow as people.  It's also important to be nice to ourselves, to understand our natural inclination towards the status quo, and not beat ourselves up when we resist movement, change, transformation. And to understand that these things are just as hard for everyone else we know, and not to blame them when they, too, resist.

Letting go of the old can be even more difficult. Many of us find it easier to hold on to old grudges, old hurts, old griefs, preferring to stay behind our armoured souls in case life hurts us once again. It is much more courageous to doff our armour, reveal our vulnerabilities and embrace the new. But it is a wonderfully rewarding way to live.

Each of us has been given a brain and a heart to approach the new in a spirit of curiosity, rather than dread. Let us use them as best we can, so that we may grow into the best people we can be. Let us pray to be awake and aware and open to new experiences.

The Visit That Wasn't

Months ago, I and my fellow Midlands ministers decided to spend a day at Coventry Cathedral as our July "meeting". We settled on 18th July, and duly met at 10.30 am at The Great Meeting House Unitarian Church in Coventry, to park our cars, and walk to the Cathedral.

But when we got there, the area outside was full of young people and their parents, the former in caps and gowns, and the latter in their "Sunday best". Yes, we had chosen the day when young graduands of Coventry University were becoming graduates. And the ceremony was in the Cathedral. Oh. I had checked the website a few weeks earlier, and no mention of this event.

So we adjourned to the Herbert Museum & Art Gallery for coffee, and to have a discussion about what to do instead. To my surprise, five of the seven of us, including my husband, decided they'd like to go to Coventry Transport Museum, which left my friend and I free to book-shop to our heart's content.

We spent more than an hour in the Cathedral bookshop, which had many wonderful second-hand theological and spiritual books at very reasonable prices, and came away loaded down with books.

When we joined back up with the rest of the party, it was clear that a good time had been had by all. It was not the day we had planned, but we had refused to let this spoil things, but had happily decided to make the best of it, and enjoy the day anyway. There were no recriminations, and no heart-burning, just a willingness to make alternative plans, and have a good day. We will visit the Cathedral another time.

Don't Forget To Love Yourself

Recently, I have been re-reading books that have meant something to me, on my spiritual / religious journey. And one of these is Mister God, This Is Anna, which I first read over 30 years ago. It is another slim book - only 190 pages - beautifully illustrated by Papas, which adds to its enchantment. Set in the East End of London in the 1930s, it tells the story of a remarkable child called Anna, who sees the world differently, and who has an intimate and wonderful relationship with Mister God. It is told from the viewpoint of Fynn, who finds the five-year-old Anna homeless on the streets, and brings her home to join the family. For the three and a half years before her premature death, she revolutionises his thinking about God and human beings in relation to God, and about the world we live in.

One of my favourite passages records a conversation with the local vicar, who must have found her hard to cope with:

"'Do you believe in God?' 'Yes.'
'Do you know what God is?' 'Yes.'
'What is God then?' 'He's God!'
'Do you go to church?' 'No.'
'Why not?' 'Because I know it all!'
'What do you know?' 'I know to love Mister God and to love people and cats and dogs and spiders and flowers and trees' and the catalogue went on, 'with all of me.'

There's nothing much you can do in the face of that kind of accusation, for that's what it amounted to. Anna had bypassed all the non-essentials and distilled centuries of learning into one sentence - 'And God said love me, love them, and love it, and don't forget to love yourself.'"

This week the shops are full of red and pink - Valentine's cards, Valentine's chocolates, Valentine's drink, Valentine's perfume, Valentine's cuddly toys. It is the one time of the year when love, particularly romantic love, is almost deified, and the many people who are not in a romantic relationship, or who have just lost somebody near and dear to them, are made to feel lacking, and sad, and out of it. Like Christmas, there is only one media message, and if your particular circumstances don't fit, it can be a very painful time.

So this week, I'm going to try to take on board the last bit of Anna's advice "Don't forget to love yourself." We are all human, we are all children of God, we are all worthy of love. And we all need to learn to love and accept our whole selves, not just the bits we allow other people to see.