ADVENT CALENDAR

It's a waiting game for sleepy Shepherds, Angels and Wise Men; all are travelling to Bethlehem. Some are already there, some are searching, others are told to, “Go and see.”

What’s all the fuss about?

https://innershell01.wixsite.com/advent

You probably know the story so far but how much more is there for you to discover. 

What part are you called to play? 

The calendar is called, “Conversations with Dad.”

So, journey with us to Bethlehem through this advent calendar. David and his Dad uncover some interesting questions and thoughts. However, conversations are two way and we would love to hear your thoughts too. 

Let’s hurry towards Christmas in a positive way.

You’re invited to try this digital alternative at the site marked above

Time to Think

Many years ago now, I was given a wristwatch, it was a gift from a friend. My friend had owned the watch several years and then acquired a new one. I had to admit at that time, my own watch was looking tired. I said thank you, and each year visited our local jeweller to have a battery fitted. It’s a fine watch and very comfortable on my wrist.

Recently I was on an errand for an old gentleman, which required a visit to the jewellery shop. When all was done, I spoke to the watchmaker. “Oh by the way” I said, “I seem to have difficulty in changing day and date on my watch, when at the end of the month it doesn't carry on correctly.” The watchmaker looked at me and said, “Well it's quite simple really, pull out the winder halfway, turn clockwise to change the day and anticlockwise to change the date.” Was it really that simple? I didn’t even know there was a half-way point. I was so convinced that it was necessary to wind the pointer back and forth past the 12 O’clock marker, and as a result never bothered with the day date indicators.

If I had the watch from new, I would have received a set of instructions. If someone had told me sooner, I could have enjoyed the full functionality of the watch – perhaps I should have asked, rather than presume it was just a cumbersome process. Why did I not think, there must be an easier way, surely a designer would not create something that was awkward?

I'm a little embarrassed to admit that this story is true. Though as I reflect upon it, I can clearly see parallels in social, emotional and many other parts of my life's journey. Handbooks (instructions) are available, questions can be asked.

We should take time to focus in – so we can be more effective on the outside.

A Virtual Retreat

This post will enable you to access the Audio files.
The theme is Holiness & Path.
Relax and enjoy - and see where it leads you.

Audio files can be found here Soundcloud
Overview can be seen here: VR overview

A Personal Retreat

(Half day)

A time out to consider a theme at a deeper level. Allowing ourselves to become more aware of our soul and spirit within the context of our Christian faith.

Jesus himself often went away on his own to begin to know the will of His father.

Your retreat may well be on your own. You may be at home or have chosen to go away for the day (whatever works for you). You may have chosen to spend the day with others, sharing the experience and listening to how each person feels about the retreat.

The files may be listened to directly from Soundcloud, or you may download them. You will need access to a device that can play MP3 files. If this is a personal retreat, a tablet or even smartphone will suffice with head phones.

In a group, you will need audio output to speakers, and you will find it useful to print this document – one for each attendee.

It’s good to have a few things around you (though not too much that you are overly distracted).

Most important is a notepad, pencil and rubber to capture a thought.

A bible is not essential, but you may feel you would like one to hand.

Setting the scene: Some people like to create a space with a candle or icon. If this is you, you might like to prepare something such as a tea tray with a few items.

There are three points during the retreat time when you are asked for an activity. This is often a walk, which enables reflection (thoughts on what you have just heard). A physical activity is important, it helps the body move and invigorates our mind and soul. However, this will depend upon your mobility and your surroundings. Think of something that would work for you, a change from sitting, notice how you are responding to the theme, write down your thoughts and if you are with others today – share your thoughts and feelings if you can.

The length of the retreat is very much down to the individual (or group members). Each audio file is not long, and we suggest around forty minutes for each activity – though this is your time, use it well.

 

Just follow the itinerary and let it guide you through your retreat.

Your feedback to us is always welcome, questions and thoughts.

Please email: innershell01@gmail.com

Itinerary

Make yourself comfortable

Audio file one:

Holiness (introduction, music “Purify my heart” and teaching) time 23 mins

            Activity one – Walk / reflection

Audio file two:

Path (welcome back, music “The power of your love” and teaching) time 13 mins

            Activity two – walk / reflection

Audio file three:

The onward journey (welcome back, teaching and music “Draw me close to you”) time 10 mins

            Activity three – walk / reflection

Audio file four:

Close (welcome back, close and music “No longer I”) time 5 mins

Priests

My understanding of priesthood is not based on 12-months being ordained – but many years as a Christian and being involved in ministry to young people.

As Priests we are:

  Called to serve and to administer the sacraments. 

  To share the gospel in a relevant way to those we are called to.

  To give glory to God.

Thomas Merton said – 

“A tree gives glory to God by being a tree. For in being what God means it to be it is obeying God. It “consents,” so to speak, to God's creative love. It is expressing an idea which is in God and which is not distinct from the essence of God, and therefore a tree imitates God by being a tree”

We must become what God created us to be, if we are to give glory to God. 

Thomas Merton also says – 

“Our vocation is not simply to be, but to work together with God in the creation of our own life, our own identity, our own destiny. To work out our identity in God.” 

Discovering our purpose (identity) and living it out, is our life's journey. It will take a lifetime, no more no less. We thank God for our individuality, our unique self, that together as many parts we are one.

Thomas Merton writes –

“We have the choice of two identities: the external mask which seems to be real … and the hidden, inner person who seems to us to be nothing, but who can give himself eternally to the truth in whom he subsists.”

“There is only one problem on which all my existence, my peace, my happiness depends, to discover myself in discovering God. If I find Him I will find myself and if I find my true self I will find Him.” 

So, there can be no simple answer as to what it is to be a priest. We are all different and will be called into different areas to minister. To children, the youth, adolescents, young families, the sick and the dying. To business, to teaching; there is not an area of life that is not in need of the light of Christ. 

We all struggle with self-belief. I am not good enough, worthy enough, knowledgeable or strong enough to be a priest. 

In kingdom terms that certainly would meet the criteria.

It is through brokenness that we serve. 

Only God is good.

Thomas Merton - 

“The beginning of love is the will to let those we love be perfectly themselves, the resolution not to twist them to fit our own image.” 

Within our own image dwells our values and beliefs

A Henri Nouwen quote – 

One of the main tasks of theology is to find words that do not divide but unite, that do not create conflict but unity, that do not hurt but heal.

My call has always been to youth, I have been blessed to have a soulmate that shares the same vision and ministry. Our call is to walk alongside the youth, to offer different ways of thinking – in a language that is familiar to them.

That they may discover for themselves the wonders that God has in store for them. We do not want to presume that we know their Map – though the inward-looking pilgrim tends to make better progress.

It’s about enabling young people to realise their potential through their natural gifting. Focusing on forgiveness and acceptance, healing and wholeness, kindness and gentleness, understanding and belief, truth and integrity.

As Priests we are:

  Called to serve and to administer the sacraments. 

  To share the gospel in a relevant way to those we are called to.

  To give glory to God.

  Oh, and did I mention – Preach the Gospel

As if time stood still

The Gospel of James has an interesting story; that Joseph had a vision or encountered an experience as he went to find a Hebrew mid-wife. Mary was about to give birth and Joseph had left her in the cave. These are writings from the 2^nd Century and are not included as part of the canonical Gospels.

"Now I, Joseph, was walking along and yet not going anywhere. I looked up at the vault of the sky and saw it standing still, and then at the clouds and saw them paused in amazement, and at the birds of the sky suspended in mid-air. As I looked on the earth, I saw a bowl lying there and workers reclining around it with their hands in the bowl; some were chewing and yet did not chew; some were picking up something to eat and yet did not pick it up; and some were putting food in their mouths and yet did not do so. Instead, they were all looking upward. "I saw sheep being driven along and yet the sheep stood still; the shepherd was lifting his hand to strike them, and yet his hand remained raised. And I observed the current of the river and saw goats with their mouths in the water and yet they were not drinking. "Then all of a sudden everything and everybody went on with what they had been doing.

My thoughts are drawn to the possibility of “time” standing still, at the moment of birth of our saviour Jesus Christ. God made flesh and living among us. The three expressions of God; the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. All who existed before “time” and were spoken of in the beginning (the book of Genesis).

It would seem quite natural that time would stand still at that moment when the child Jesus drew his first breath. Our God who is outside of time, entering our time – brings to my mind, a sense of wonder and amazement. In that stillness and quiet, space without noticing movement or breath of air, a pure silence and perfect moment to conceive the birth of our saviour. Words cannot tell of such a moment nor can we fully imagine the timeless importance for each and every one of us, regardless of race or creed.

Take time to enter into silence, breathe in the moment and receive the perfect gift.

The full measure

Financial budgets and accounting,
is not the full account.
Though the bottom line may be accurate,
we see there is much missing.

A formulae of addition and subtraction,
division and multiplication
would seem to be all sufficient.
Though a truer calculation,
will reveal the value and full measure.

The addition without subtraction
will multiply and not divide.
There must be boundless amounts of
kindness, compassion and gratitude,
in this way, true scales may be balanced.

A deluge of acceptance,
trust and mutual respect;
for a deal to be truly sealed.
A richness of clarity, humility and integrity
that all benefits may be plainly seen.

A profit for man is assured
in a value more than wealth;
but to brighten, to strengthen, to refine,
or to form a single living spirit,
never enters into our estimate of advantages.

Wood working

I have recently spent a lot of time, practicing being a carpenter.

There is now, a very comfortable summer house in our garden.

I have been using woodworking tools for as long as I can remember; I just love the smell of wood. My grandson came in to watch me sanding a piece of wood. “Are you making sawdust Granddad?” he said. Well, I was of course; but the purpose was to put a good finish on the wood.

During this build of love, I noticed a few things – and pondered on them while I worked. How often I had used a tenon saw for example. I learned the basics at school, making a teapot stand – it was okay, but not as good as it could have been. I tend to grasp the basics, then just keep going in that same old way – not surprisingly, getting the similar results.

Somehow this building was different. I thought about the Master Carpenter, how he would hold and position the wood. The position of the body was important too, holding control of the saw. There was a new learning here that I would not find in books. It was all about the feel of the cut, that held the saw straight and true. Vanessa tells me, the same is true of knitting – keeping the right tension.

We call this learning process, modelling. By watching and listening closely to the Master Carpenter, looking at the finer detail and getting the feel of it, when we try it ourselves. Your cuts and joints will create a good finish.

We are quite familiar with our bible passages, particularly the ones approaching Easter. As we know the story well, it is tempting to fast forward to Easter Sunday.

• ·        Watch and wait
• ·        Go deeper
• ·        How did the Master feel
• ·        What can we learn

Try this process, and what you accomplish will be better.

A Brotton Lad – Anthony Rowe

Peter F Anson and his companion Anthony (Tony) Rowe set off from St Augustine’s Datchet on the river Thames. It was Ash Wednesday, February 14^th 1934, and they left with black smudges on their foreheads and determination in their hearts. The great caravan was pulled by two horses, Jack and Bill. Anthony was a farrier and he was chosen out of 200 applicants to accompany Peter and look after the horses.

Peter was commissioned by the Universe Catholic paper, to sketch churches and document the pilgrimage to Fort William. The journey took them to Ugthorpe where they stopped for five-weeks, it was necessary for them to change to a lighter caravan – the horses would not have managed the hills of the north with the original one. The villagers got to know them quite well, and my mother recalled the story of these travellers. Peter went on to write his book “The Caravan Pilgrim.”

Peter Anson wrote and sketched about churches, cathedrals and Abbeys up and down the country; he also travelled round Italy, France and Ireland. Peter was with the Benedictine brotherhood on Caldey Island, and one of the twenty monks who followed Abbot Aelred Carlyle over to Rome in 1913. He must have felt quite at home during his stay at Ugthorpe; the community had not changed in its beliefs or ways of life in many years. Staying true to the faith during the persecution, hiding priests and being married by the church in secret; and later in Whitby to fulfil the law. Peter had a great interest in these times and commented as he found them on his travels.

Peters companion was a local lad, Anthony Rowe from Brotton (just a stones’ throw from Ugthorpe). Tony was a farrier and had already spent time in the local ironstone mines and an ideal choice for his knowledge of horses and practical sense. Tony went on to write the first book “The Brown Caravan.”

On their way back from Scotland through Bowes, Yarm, Guisborough and then on to Ugthorpe, which was to be their final port. The horses sensed the home run and needed to be held back rather than urged forward. The caravan was sold, the horses too and Peter continued his wandering, writing and drawing; his stories of local folk, faith and their determination.

In 1901 Anthony’s parents were living at 2 Wood street Skinningrove with three children

Anthony was born 6^th January 1909 and in the 1911 census – was living at 7 Park Terrace Brotton, with:

Ralf Welford Rowe – Father

Mary Rowe (nee Harrison) Mother, and his brothers/ sisters:

Henry Harrison 19

Mary Elizabeth Rowe13

Hilda Rowe 11

Alma Agnes Rowe 8

William Ralf Rowe 9

George Rowe 1-month

1939 register tells us that Anthony was living at St Augustine’s Datchet as a smallholder – together with:

Brothers William (Ralf) & George – both in Holy Orders and teachers.

Also his sister Mary Elizabeth as a domestic.

The order of priests at Datchet were Canons Regular of the Lateran:

These canons regular trace their origins to the reforms in the 4th century of St. Martin of Tours in France and St. Eusebius of Vercelli in Italy of the clergy. These and other bishops sought to model the accepted lifestyles of their clergy in a domestic model, based on the communal pattern followed by the first Christians, as depicted in the Acts of the Apostles. The premier example of this effort was the life and work of the great figure St. Augustine of Hippo, who himself lived as a monk before being called to take up the office of bishop for his North African city. He later wrote a small Rule to guide a community of women who wanted to live the monastic ideal. This document became the official guide for the earliest of the religious communities to emerge in the Church in later centuries, in parallel to that of the Rule of St. Benedict. From this comes the title 'regular,' meaning one following a Rule (Latin: Regula).

I believe that William moved to London, as on the website “Christ Church Priory - Eltham” there is a picture of William Rowe. http://www.christchurcheltham.org.uk/gallery/arc.html 

I would be very interested to learn more about the Rowe family - how they travelled to St Augustine's and became part of that community. Any help would be much appreciated.

John Pearson

A Long Journey Home

A novella - finally completed and available.

The story of Brother David: about his thoughts and dreams, people and places around him, existing both in the now and the past.

A Franciscan friar, David is content in his life but continually searching for something unknown – as if he were attempting to make a jigsaw without having the picture to show the finished image, and not knowing whether the piece he is picking up fits his jigsaw or someone else’s.

Set in North Yorkshire, the friary has many comings and goings, and David is very much part of this. He loves to wander, in the woods and moors – but also in his thoughts. A chance meeting and a string of curious events sparked David’s imagination and this searching journey seemed to run parallel to his own, at times more than overlapping and also challenging his beliefs.

This is a story, although some of the place names are familiar and the characters are more typical than real. We are all on a long journey home and although some of this journey must be on our own, others have often been there before us..

Amazon Link

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A Yorkshire man, in love with the moors and writing his fist small novel. He has been telling stories for many a year, being brought up in this tradition – and finds a way to make them relevant to our everyday life. It seems there is much we can learn about ourselves, when we reflect on things gone by.

The writing of the book was a journey in itself, taking longer than expected, but perhaps that was the way it needed to be. As Brother David remarked; "We need an ending, to see where we are going."

Lenten reflection: Sacrifice

Galatians 1

Verse 4 who gave himself for our sins to rescue us from the present evil age, according to the will of our God and Father.

Paul was preaching after the death of Christ, about the sacrifice made for us.

Jesus stood in our place, for our wrong doings and paid the price. We remember the cost as through the Stations of the Cross and the services of Easter bring back the horrific death on the cross, of the one that came to rescue us from this evil world.

Thinking today – wouldn't it be nice if someone came along and paid off my mortgage, gave me a lump sum that would see me and my family right for the rest of our days; what if I could win the lottery? Money is not everything, if only I could have my health! And Paul tells us we are rescued.

The world is at war with fear and greed, we have enough but we will not share it, sickness and death is headline news. Can we imagine anything worse –

So what is it that Jesus Christ rescued us from, that was so evil? We have to wonder.

His love was so great for us that he willingly gave up his life that we might be free.

I am free to be at peace,

I am free to be happy and content with who I am and what I have

I am free to choose to love my neighbour

I am free to exercise compassion

I am free to forgive

I am free to serve

- It is my choice.

And this is the will of our God and father

Creator & Creation - Christmas

Christmas and Incarnation: a timeless moment, when the creator becomes part of creation.

In our view of how things are, we see a creator (artist, sculptor) as someone who creates, stands back to view his creation with others; and said it was good.

Our understanding is routed in our timescale and knowing of how things are; it is essential to have the shepherds, sheep, wise men, Mary and Joseph. It is the angels that draw us into the mystery, although we now have them also routed in our reality; but they too are very much part of this story, as heavenly narrators.

To see the Christ child, vulnerable, wrapped in swaddling clothes and placed in a manger is a convenient position for us; full of sentiment and awe, which is reserved for new birth.

Whisper though to a small child and tell them “this Christ child threw stars into space before he was born here, and he has brought about an order that can only bring joy”.

Peering out of our windows in expectation of something much better, and wondering why it never arrives. Perfection and imperfection; “you sold me a dream that has become coloured and distorted; it’s as if it fits into something that is not real and becomes distant with time”.

The moments that count and form imprints on our being, are more often overlooked at the time. To be focused on happiness, contentment, love and passion for vocation; you know when such a moment has happened, for it touches the very core of who we are and screams out “this is me – this is who I can be”. Chasing after illusion and manufactured joy is the pastime of this world and falls so short every time.

The story of the Christ child and all that happened so many years ago is best viewed from the eyes of a child; so journey back with me, to that tender age when mystery, and all we held as dear, were one and the same. Become one with the creator as he has became one with his creation; believe in the possibility of wonder, beyond our imagining and the question will be answered
 “What is my part”?

New Mobile app from DoorWays Youth Project

Jesus before the Sanhedrin

Matt 26:57-67

Reflection
Jesus was taken before the Sanhedrin, which was a council of men, usually 23; they sat in judgement of religious affairs.

In our reading we hear that Peter followed, to see the end.
Peter who in Matthew 16, when asked by Jesus “who do you say I am” declared “You are the Christ, the son of the living God”.

The law of Moses required two witnesses; and still they could not agree, the Sanhedrin to and froed between opinions. Questions were asked of Jesus and He remained silent. The final question “are you the Christ, son of God” a long silence, then Jesus answered “thou hast said it”.

In Peter’s eyes, he was witnessing the end, there can be no coming back from this; the High Priest tore his clothes.

When someone lets us down, hurts or moves radically away from what we imagined, and believed to be; our response tends to be isolation, rejection and anger. We turn this round and fire it back at the source of our pain, because we do not know what else to do.

Peter went on that night to strongly deny ever knowing Jesus, separating himself from a situation he could not understand; Peter wanted an end he could make sense of.

What was to unfold could not have been imagined; Jesus death and resurrection ensured there is no end – but an infinite number of beginnings for each one of us.

Jaz (James Davidson)

A Christmas Eve Story

As I sat in my armchair reading the Evening Gazette, I was taken back about thirty years. It was a cold and wet November evening. The streets were empty, and the wind was blowing the rain into my face. I could see the phone box at the end of the street from where the urgent call had been made, but the house number 1a could not be found. An elderly lady had called the house asking for the doctor, her great niece was pregnant and in discomfort.

I decided to knock at number one and ask directions. I was told, “Round the back”, before the door was closed quickly on me. As I pushed my way past the bins and overgrown hedge, I could see a dim light through a small window. I was greeted at the door and taken quickly to the young lady. Her husband was working, and her great Aunt was staying over a few days to help prepare for baby’s arrival. It soon became clear that baby was imminent and would be delivered that night.

The house was less than basic but Auntie was a great help, rushing around preparing what was needed. Jenny (the young lady) followed all my guiding and soon we had a beautiful baby boy. The gift of new life has never ceased to amaze me. There was a moment when Auntie was holding the child in the crook of her arm, she looked at him and said. “You will be called James, and you are very special. We have waited such a long time for you”. She placed her first and second finger of her right hand on his heart, bent over and kissed his forehead. Before I knew what was happening, Auntie said “Here, have a cuddle” and there I was, looking into the child’s eyes. That moment was an eternity and I could sense something that I could not understand but strangely did not disturb me.

A few nights later in the newspaper, there was a mention in the birth column: “James Davidson born to Chris and Jenny. Blessings and hope for the future. Love, Auntie Liz”. What are the ingredients, what needs to happen, for there to be hope for the future? Could James, shape, mould, create new colours – that our lives became fused in such a way, that possibilities became our reality. Now, I was beginning to dream.

I had little contact with the family over the following years. Life was not easy for them, but they seemed content in their unity and keeping themselves to themselves. James became known as Jaz and gained some popularity around the community, involving himself in social action, speaking out against injustice, poverty and inequality.

I read this evening in that same local newspaper, how he intends to run for office in the next election. He is challenging a regime that has been very comfortable for far too long. Jaz speaks with simple words of truth and wisdom that has freshness about them. He speaks with integrity that people respond to, they want to believe and turn away from how things have been. The old ways will not give up easily and I can see a battle brewing. I remembered again that first moment I held James, and wondered, how this story will end.

©Copyright 2013 John Pearson

The Gardener

In relation to poverty; someone said to me recently. If you were setting out to clear a garden of weeds, it really doesn't matter where you start or how much you can do - just do!

I don't regard myself as a gardener but I am a willing labourer.

Tickling Fish

Wandering and wondering has always been a pastime greatly enjoyed; you never know what you are going to come across or even imagine. Each walk was an adventure with many possibilities; I could be a warrior, hunter or explorer, just as the fancy took me. Every tree was different, with shape and character all of its own, blown by wind and weather.

A frequent walk would be as far as low buildings, and the wood just beyond; Granny’s farm, now owned by my uncle and his family. This was the place where my Mum was born and I spent many a holiday with my cousins. There was always something to do: collect eggs, take the milk cans on, potato picking, hay timing and fastening in the hens. You might imagine it was all work, not a bit; rummaging among the old stuff stored up in the stable chamber, jumping off bails of straw and making dens in the wood.

We always knew there were trout in the beck, but I can’t remember the first time we realised they were big enough to catch and eat. Imagining ourselves as Robinson Crusoe, we would plan how to catch this wild tasty delight (we didn't consider the preparation at this stage). A rod and a float seemed quite impractical in such a narrow stream; a net might be a plan.

Sunday lunch followed the church service, but straight after the service was also a ritual, as men folk would gather over the road and to the left. The women would be just outside the gate and we kids would be over the road to the right. There was a progression for us young lads, as we increased in years we would move closer to the men; conversation moving from games to farm work, joinery and such like. Family was wider than just a name, for it stretched out within a group of names, associated with each family. Groups extended to neighbours and shared work relationships, a community network spanning distance and time; a sense of belonging, and fitting in to the way of things. It was one such Sunday morning, one of the older men suggested we tickle the fish with our hands and hook it onto the bank side; we wondered if he was pulling our legs. My uncle was a man to be believed and he verified the art, saying that tickling hypnotised the fish so you could grab it.

This new found skill had to be put to the test, so all seven of us set out down the beck that Sunday afternoon. Our eyes were glued to the water; we had seen fish here before. Talking was reduced to a whisper and it felt like we were walking on tip toes. “There”, said Chris, “there’s one”. I had never heard silence like it, apart from the rippling stream as I approached the edge. I rolled up my sleeves and laid flat, face down. The water was so cold as I moved my hands slowly toward the undercut bank; my heart skipped two beats as I touched the fish. Wiggling my fingers in a tickling motion, the fish seemed quite content; I smiled and nodded my head to the others. At that moment there was a flash and he was gone, the disappointing sigh from those stood around said it all.

We walked for a few hundred yards or more and came upon a likely spot, the bend in the stream had created an overhanging edge and there was the biggest fish we had seen. Chris was straight in; my fingers were twitching, imagining what he was feeling. A moment later, Chris jerked and it was as if half the stream had come out with the fish, we all got showered; but where was the fish? It had to be here among the grass but was nowhere to be seen. Then Bernie, the youngest of the group, frozen to the spot said “it’s down me wellie”, the fish was head first down his wellie, flapping its tail fin against his leg. There was a deed to be done with a stone that was carried out without a word; the procession back to the farm recounted the excitement over and over again, even the one that got away.

There are no fish in these becks today and the stream is barely a trickle, but the skills and how we learned them, became a template for much more than just tickling fish. Remembering the old ways, and how often things that seem impossible, turn out to be great fun.

The old man's song

The old man climbed long and hard with all his strength till he reached the top, encouraged by those below; unable to hold on to the sheer edges. He shouted out all that he could see, but the crowd below could not hear. He began to sing loud and clear, his voice carried on the wind. He sang of clear air and fields of green, trees, fruit and berries of plenty, and cool streams of quenching water. Those below took up stone from the ground, and fashioning tools began to hew foot holes into the steep face; soon every one of them, were free from the darkness.

Loud discontent as they saw, all was not as the old man had sung; very little fruit, no berries but good soil and water. The crowd were about to turn on the singer when a young boy said; “if he had not sang that song; we would still be in darkness”.

A Quiet Listen

To achieve great things, begin by doing nothing.
From nothing comes everything and everything amounts to nothing.

Take time to discover you, then everyone becomes familiar.
Notice the things around you and you will see your next step.

Step into the quiet, and wait just long enough; to hear the small voice of clarity,
refreshing, like a mountain stream.

Practice makes perfect, so my father taught me; but also to be satisfied with what I have.
To forgive myself is to forgive others, so my freedom rests with me.

Note to morning office: Create some quite this day.

The original King

How many times we must have copied and shared this track - as recorded live with Alan Andrews. The King is among us and his glory shall be seen; as we learn to touch each other. ...

The King

Written by Alan Andrews and shared among many, this wonderful song was re-worked by Andy & Lynn  who worked with Zion Community. Choreography by Andy Raine and friends, this has been danced all over the world from streets to Churches. Very emotional just listening to it again.

Andromeda galaxy

If it were dark I would take you outside and with the aid of some optics, show you the heavens. Stars, Nebulae and galaxies spread out to infinity, light displaying energy from the beginning of time, reaching us here and now. Andromeda galaxy is about two and a half million light years away and as we look at it, we are looking back to the age of the dinosaurs. Andromeda was formed out of the collision of two smaller galaxies between 5 and 9 billion years ago. These scales of measurement are often outside our natural thinking and take some understanding.

In the beginning was God and nothing had its being without Him, God in the brightness and God in the darkness; Gods presence in all things. We focus and see easily the brightest of these stars and in the density of the galaxies we see form and movement; God in the immense and God in the smallest of detail. To see into deep space, it is necessary to have the darkest of skies.

We see things in black and white, left or right, right or wrong. Our evolution has been a sequence of choices, one way or another. Our opinions and behaviour is decided by these choices, one way or another. Our human need is for direction, we create a structure for how things will be; this will suit some, but not all. Differences cause friction when they could produce harmony, an orchestra consists of many instruments, musicians, a composer and a conductor; a symphony could be likened to a galaxy. Many of these structures exist; cultural, political and religious.

To return to the beginning is like looking out to the many galaxies; to the reference point of Gods presence in all things. Our reference is unity not separation.

The Travel Chest

It was a windy afternoon and following Sunday lunch when all was put away, my Mother and Father would take an afternoon nap. I went upstairs to find a comic but that was not what I was looking for. From the top landing there are four doors, well actually there are five, the fifth, taking you up the back stairs to the attic rooms. All houses have an attic of sorts, a place to store the stuff you don’t use but don’t want to throw away; and that was where I found myself, that windy afternoon.

Grandfather’s wooden chest (that’s my great grandfather) was standing under the skylight. Grandfather had made it himself, an intricate piece of furniture with many drawers and compartments; this would have travelled with grandfather through Europe and across to Asia; father had told me many stories about grandfather’s expeditions.

The locks were strong but soon the great lid was lifted; I loved to poke around in the chest to see what I could find. Some old medals, a compass, a pocket knife, spare buttons and a dice. I played Kim’s game, closing the lid and trying to remember all I had just seen. Opening the drawers and lifting out each separate tray, a set of drawing pencils and an old notebook. I sat back with the notebook and read how grandfather had planned his expeditions down to the finest detail (there were no mobile phones in those days).

An old envelope had been caught between two drawers, upon which had been written a simple message – Tom, write on this paper your hopes and dreams; illustrate your imaginings. Tom would be grandfather’s son (my grandpa). I opened the envelope and took out a small piece of paper, still blank, not a mark on it; perhaps it had always been lost?

I took the paper and one of the pencils and began to write and draw. It was not long before I had filled the page and it was then that I noticed, the paper was unfolding; twice, as it became four times it’s original size and now the creases had vanished, I continued to write and draw.

After a number of days and more writing, again the page was full, and again it unfolded twice (without creases) to become sixteen times it’s original size; now this gave me something I could really explore on. I kept this to myself as no-one would believe me, I had no evidence and I could not reproduce this phenomena.

A weekend away at grandpa Tom’s house and we were busy with a jigsaw, just the two of us. I asked him if he remembered an envelope from his father, which referred to hopes, dreams and imaginings; he said he couldn't remember but grandfather had brought many things back from his travels. I explained how the paper, when full, opened twice with no sign of creases, and this happened twice. I now had a very large sheet of paper but didn't think it would open again.

Grandpa thought for a while and then went to his desk; he brought out a beautiful pen, polished wood with ornate carving. He said, I think that big sheet of paper was meant for you, and if ever you get round to filling it, then this pen will enable you to go off the page. You will write upon people’s lives with the things you have to say; that’s how change is brought about. I asked if the pen was magic; he laughed and said, no, the magic is inside you and it has already begun to unfold.

The Vine

Lent lunch last week - I was asked do a short meditation based on the reading John 15: 1-10.

I am going to tell you a story about a community of people, ordinary people who together shared extraordinary experiences. These were people who were from a number of churches, often families; young people, parents, grand parents and from a range of backgrounds.

The common ground here was a love of God and a willingness to reach out.

The community formed around very simplistic values – Availability, Vulnerability and Openness, a wanting to belong. The catalyst was a young boy who had a gift of dance – expressing the message of the Gospel through emotional movement; this inspired his parents and their friends. The Gospel was not only being reviled to those who watched but very much to the community as they experienced the emotion within these stories.

The community grew to around 30 and weekends away on mission became frequent; even to one week missions in London, Ireland and America. These were as I said ordinary people; they had regular jobs, families, homes and responsibilities. Their time together was special, quiet prayer, sharing visions, growing in the trust of God and each other. Learning about each others strengths and weaknesses – commitment to each other – shaping the community.

It would be nice to hear compliments about the dance and ministry; it would be a privilege to be involved in the healing of another. But the point I want to make is not about the remarkable things that happened around this community. It was something very simply said at a day event at a Methodist church hall one Saturday afternoon. “You guys are special; it is the way you are with each other that stands out”

The name of that community was The Vine. The first dance choreographed by the community was I am the Vine you are the branches – a song by John Michael Talbot.

                     In accepting that we are the branches – we are community and part of the vine.

The Magicians Gift

Every good story begins with once upon a time and our stories are no different. Our stories are fiction but there are many truths for those who listen carefully. I am the signalman, I work here in Saltburn and live only a stones throw away from here. I was born in Middlesbrough and moved here only a few years ago. I have always been a signalman following my father on the railway. I love the railway, the smell of the engine a mixture of oil coal and fire; the sound of the steam and the iron wheels on the tracks, to see such power takes your breath away, you can travel direct to London from here.

It’s a lonely job, sitting in the signal house waiting for the next engine. The bell rings to tell me she is on her way, I pull hard on the levers to set the points, drop the signal and send the return signal bell. Every passing engine has to be logged into my book and I check it is showing all its lights. The signals operated by my levers are in semaphore and tell the drivers when the lines are clear. When all that is done I go back to my chair, waiting for the next signal bell. There is time to think, to read and allow the imagination to wander where it pleases. The signalman’s job is very small but so much depends on it.

We are going on a journey this evening, a walk around my town. I ask that you bring your imagination, for the story I have for you is about ordinary people and extraordinary events; taking in some of the popular landmarks and some of the less known places. I will lead the way and we will stop form time to time to continue the story.

 

I begin my story here at the railway station because it was here that our main character first arrived late one evening with the wind driving rain in off the sea, a cold November evening 1911. No one was waiting, no one expected him – Matthew was returning home after being away for several years. Matthew Smithson was a magician and illusionist; he entertained lords and ladies on the south coast and astounded his audience with illusions, producing items from seemingly thin air. His slight of hand was quicker than the keenest eye. No one knew Matthew by name or anything about him; his stage name was ‘The Great Illumine’ Matthew had found a way to create light without flicker or flame.

People would claim to know his secrets that it was achieved with many small mirrors and a lamp hidden offstage but the truth was they had no idea at all. It had something to do with the way he held the light that enabled it to be visible.

Matthew was always a quiet boy when growing up here in Saltburn choosing to draw and to write than play in the streets with the other boys; in later years he transformed with brightness when performing his illusions on the stage. The house he had called home was left to him by his mother who had passed away that summer; his father had died when he was just a small boy and he had no other siblings. The neighbours Mr and Mrs Watkins who still had no idea of this late arrival had kept the house in order. Matthew carried but two suitcases, the rest of his belongings were being sent on - this was to be Matthew’s homecoming, leaving behind the glamour and status that followed his aura of mystery.

Matthew pulled up his coat collar and walked quickly toward the house. Over the next few weeks he became re-accustomed to the town and took time to appreciate the belongings of the family home; the only people he spoke to were the Watkins. Warrior terrace was built in 1865 and named after the recently launched HMS Warrior, a totally new design of warship; this new town wanted to be associated with everything new.

Matthew and his mother had moved from Newcastle to Saltburn just as this new town was being born, a new start for them also in this growing town.The house was nothing special but it was in a position to see across to Huntcliff between the streets; this great cliff, standing so tall and defiant against time and tide, providing protection for the town. Often as a young boy, Matthew would walk out to the very top of this great cliff and imagine that he was on top the world, a powerful king who could command the elements it was there that Matthew felt truly himself and that nothing was impossible.

It was on one of these walks; Matthew was in his own world that day, his imagination was running away with him. He was high up and close by the old Roman signalling station that had only recently been discovered. It was as if all the energy in the ground, laid down over thousands of years was coming up through his body. His hands began to shake and a small light glow began to emerge from between his fingers. Matthew was frightened and excited both at the same time, he had always believed that strange things can happen, but this was beyond his imaginings. The shaking stopped and over the space of half an hour, Matthew was able to control the light, turning it on and off at will.

Matthew was only 9 years old when he moved to Saltburn in 1871, Britannia place was a mere four years old and the cliff lift was a wooden tower structure with water counter balance weights. The pier also built by John Anderson stretched far out to sea.

The creativity and newness of this town fascinated Matthew; he was living in an inventive time and he took all things in, picking up the creative drive of the fathers of this town.

Matthew’s gift of light was something he felt he needed to keep hidden, people wouldn’t understand, so this was to be a game of hide and seek.

Matthew would decide on something he wanted to achieve, not knowing if it was even possible; he would keep going until he came up with a solution, then he would build a disguise around, it so creating an illusion.

The gift was safely hidden behind Matthew’s illusions and he went on to create many more through his ingenuity and swiftness of hand. At the age of 23, Matthew left for the big cities and the south coast as “The great Illumine”.

We stand here at the top of Amber Street, looking down Milton Street and again we can see Huntcliff in the distance. A boy from Emerald Street, one of our jewels was up on Huntcliff one evening as the sun was just fading; he was playing hide and seek with an imaginary friend. Behind a bush he suddenly slipped and fell towards the sea below; his fall was broken by a small ledge and he managed to hold his balance.

As the young boys scream went out Matthew was also walking close by; he ran to the edge, lay flat on the grass and peered over. There was no thinking, just instinct as Matthew began to scramble down to the boy.

Soon they were side by side and it was only then that Matthew realised, that there was no way back to the top without help and a rope. Matthew applied the strength of his mind to the problem but there was nothing he could conjure up on his own. He would need to attract attention but to be heard or seen from that distance was very unlikely. Somehow, a signal had to be sent.

It was becoming cold and the young boy was trembling, Matthew reassured him and decided what had to be done. All these years Matthew’s gift of light had been hidden behind his illusions, carefully concealed to entertain and dazzle the audience. Matthew spoke to the boy “do not be afraid lad, hold on to me; I’m going to do something magical”. He held his hands high in the air and light proceeded from between his fingers, brighter than ever before; there was no hiding this light as it shone out far and wide. Matthew began to move his arms in semaphore signal, spelling out SOS ROPE – SOS ROPE, he kept going till he could hardly hold his arms, but the light kept shining brightly.

Just at that moment, shouts came from above and a rope was lowered down. Matthew and the boy were brought safely back to the town and a celebration in the streets, for the signal had been seen by many homes that night.

Meditation

I walked on a little further and left the path to my right, approaching an edge I heard the river below, my intake of breath was sharp as I realised just how high up I was. Deciding to rest for a while I took out my flask and something to eat; there was a sense of timeless peace, right here where I was resting, it came over me slowly as my body leaned into the place I had sat. My breathing slowed and I became aware of many different sounds, each bird had its own location and purpose, the sounds of the branches moving in the breeze provided the background frequency to this new concerto. The river roar was interspersed with flashes of crisp sounds as it collided with many rocks; I felt my eyes beginning to close as my mind did not want to be distracted by visual content. I don’t recall how long I stayed at this place; it was a time in itself, seeming like an age, yet over too soon, a place on the edge, between one thing and another. I had experienced things before when in meditation, but that was usually in the quietness of the chapel; I wanted to know what was special about this place or was it just about my thoughts that day?  It was as if the volume control of my senses had been turned up high and I had been drawn into the reality of my surroundings, almost like entering from another world. I knew that I wanted more of this.

Star gazing for beginners

Moon 31/12/2012

For as long as I can remember, the stars have held a fascination beyond anything else. Being told by the gas works night watchman, their names and which ones were double stars, grew my fascination. Drawing pictures in the sky that told stories of Castor & Pollux, Orion the hunter and Cassiopeia. Discovering that stars are not just bright lights in the darkness, but different colours of reds, blues and yellows. The observer book of astronomy soon became a close friend and it was not long before a Christmas present unwrapped a small telescope; this was probably the biggest turn off as it revealed very little compared to the books. I wanted to see the horses head nebulae, Andromeda galaxy, double stars and pick out craters on the moon.

This was the mid 1960's and soon we had satellites, moon landings and pictures from a telescope in space. I have to admit that witnessing the Mars landing and landscape views are very low down my Buzz range compared to views into the vast cosmos. Measuring distances in light years we find ourselves trying to grasp the fact, we are watching something that happened millions of years ago; in a strange way, we are also looking into the future, for what has happened out there will happen to our solar system.

There is a science and there is a beauty regarding the cosmos and our existence; it is for some to understand the far reaches and others to marvel at the unknown that draws us into a familiar echo.

I attempted yet again to see the markings of Jupiter and a close up of the moons craters; with a borrowed Sky-Watcher 130 mm I wanted to capture an image of the moon at least. Camera attachments and a slight modification to improve in-focus; I managed the moon. Even with the best of equipment we at at the mercy of cloud and weather conditions, light pollution and spare time; these do not often seem to match up. I am encouraged by the Internet and Sky Google Earth, many images provided by the Hubble telescope; also images such as the one below, capturing just what we see without the gadgets. Android apps provide us with how the sky looks in real time (with or without clouds) even in the day time, everything is around us.
I guess it is about belief - and seeing only confirms what we felt we knew; understanding is not always necessary.

borrowed from Cloudy nights web

Moment to Shine

18^th June 2012 and the Olympic flame came through Redcar & Cleveland. My part in this flames journey was to carry it just 300 metres through the town where I work, Saltburn.

It is very difficult to explain in words just how I felt (excited just didn’t come close). The bus behind me had a banner “Your moment to shine” and it was just a moment but packed with pride and so many people cheering through the streets.

This flame had started its journey in Greece and ignited from the rays of the sun; this was a very special flame that was not going to be allowed to go out. Coca Cola called us Future Flames and I felt that was right as I work with young people and they are our future today. The torch is beautiful and holds 8,000 holes; one for every torch bearer and for the 8,000 mile journey this flame makes to the Olympic games in London. The triangular shape of the burner holds two Olympic mottoes:

1. Stronger, Faster, Higher – in our endeavours
2. Respect, Excellence, Friendship – for each other

The second of these calls for respect in how we compete/ live. Then to do everything with excellence, which is not always to be the best but to do what ever we do, the best we can. Often I am asked if I will sell the torch and how much it is worth, we usually reach a point in the discussion when it is agreed that the torch is valuable beyond just money. Money cannot buy friendship and we should treasure our friends because their value is priceless.

Soon it was time to pass the flame to Gerry who came rushing up to meet me; he was so excited and shook my hand firmly. This was the end of my time with the flame; someone else must now carry it further. There was learning to be had here, that for something to go on – I had to let go, to pass it on to the next man; my moment to shine was over but the flame can and does live on within all torch bearers; we just love to tell the story. The Olympics are about inspiring a generation and working with young people, I would like to think I can play a part in inspiring them to achieve their dreams, do what ever they do with excellence and value their friendships.

The best way to predict the future – is to create it.

Nothing

It is often in the simplest of tasks, thoughts emerge that become challenges, ideas or solutions; where do they come from? I know most of my best ideas for resources, teaching or preaching, tend to formulate early in the morning while shaving. 

Clearly nothing comes from nothing so there must be a seed of thought, something that kicks it off. A word or phrase heard, an observation questioning, why does that happen that way? Listening to our mixture of emotions and wondering why they are knitted this way? There is a spiritual dimension too that seems external, yet personal at its core. If nothing comes from nothing, then our thoughts have purpose and should not be disregarded as random nonsense. 

I immerse myself in the quiet, appearing to be deep in thought; expecting at any minute a revelation that would drive me forward. I am now learning to continue with the practical and to be more aware of my thoughts, a little bit like solving a crossword puzzle.