The Confidence of Experience

This week's quotation is by Sylvia Plath, "Nothing broadens the horizon, gives you as much confidence, as experience."

No idea why the quote is illustrated by a photo of a whale's tail, but there we are... :)

And yes, I agree with her, up to a point. I can remember the very first time I led worship for Northampton Unitarians, in February 2001. I had spent weeks preparing the service, anxiously rehearsing every element of it, changing this, tweaking that... On the day, I was a bundle of nerves, my hands shaking so badly that I had to lay my papers down. Now, 19 years later (how did *that* happen?) I still take a good deal of trouble to put a service together, but I am no longer afraid. I have led worship so many times that I have confidence that I know how to do this. And mostly, it goes reasonably well.

That's not to say I am blasé about the process... far from it. I believe it is one of the most important things I do, as a minister. It is a huge privilege, which I am always conscious of, to share my mind and heart with a congregation...

So experience does broaden the horizon, does give me confidence.

BUT

At the same time, I believe it is important to face the world as though for the first time, to retain a sense of awe and wonder, at the glories of God's creation, at the wonderful complexities of the human heart, at the serendipitous work of grace in the world. And that happened to me this morning... I went upstairs at 7.00 am, to do my morning sit. And my breath was taken away by two views, one out of my West-facing window, one out of my South-east facing window. Here they are... the setting moon and the rising sun.

Had I come up ten minutes later, this beauty, so transient, would have been and gone. Such a gift, such a grace! I was astonished by the beauty, by the glory. And so grateful for the eyes to see, the heart to marvel. Because I am still open to wonder, still "innocent", if you like. Not bored, not cynical, not "meh, seen it all before". Because I think that sometimes, unless we are careful, too much experience (of a bad kind) can steal our sense of wonder, close us down to awe.

So yes, experience is good, experience is helpful. But innocence is so important too...

The Gift of Wonder

At this time of the year, I can end up feeling distinctly un-Christmassy. Positively bah-humbuggerish, in fact. As I have written elsewhere: "By the time December comes, we will be blatting around like the proverbial blue-bottomed flies, buying presents, sending cards, ordering turkeys and making the hearts of the supermarket shareholders glad by spending our hard-earned cash on excessive amounts of food and drink to see us through the festive season. Then, when Christmas Day has come and gone, many of us will end us with post-Christmas indigestion - too much food, too much drink, too much everything."

When I am doing the weekly food shop, the commercial over-kill of Christmas is only too apparent. The supermarket shelves are groaning with "seasonal" goodies, most of which have either too much sugar or too much fat in them. Not to mention the booze, which of course I have forsworn this year, and which is on offer on every aisle-end.

image: archive.aweber.com

So it was a particularly welcome gift this morning, to spot a toddler in a pushchair, gazing up at the Christmas decorations that festooned the supermarket ceiling, with a rapt expression of wonder on his face. I pointed this out to his Mum, and it made her day too. Of course, to him, it is all new and wonderful and wonder-full. I was so grateful for the reminder of what Christmas really is about - not the food and the drink and the presents, but the joy and the sharing and the sense of wonder at the birth of a child. And I share a reflection which I wrote some years ago, for times such as these:

Let us take a moment to appreciate all the good things in our lives; our comfortable homes our many possessions, which make our lives easy and secure.

But more importantly, the blessings that money cannot buy:
the love of families;
the companionship of our friends;
this beloved community of freedom and trust;
the beauties of nature;
our bodies - those complex systems that work in such mysterious ways;
our health;
the very air that we breathe.

Help us to realise how rich we are already, and help us to ask the question "do I need this?" rather than "do I want this?" in relation to everything.

Help us to realise that true happiness lies in wanting what you have. And in a sense of wonder.

Amen