St George and St Gabriel, Stockport

GCSE results last week.  A levels the week before.  Expectations met.  Expectations exceeded.  Hopes fulfilled.  Hopes dashed.  Futures mapped out….?

I have mentioned before that one of my favourite Radio 4 programmes is The Life Scientific.  Jim Al-Khalili – the son of an English mother and an Arab father, who lived in Iraq until he was sixteen – interviews scientists about their lives and work.  The programme is as much about people and their life stories as it is about science.

We discover how, quite often, guests now in distinguished positions and having made significant impacts in their chosen fields, went down a different route from the one they originally intended. More than once because they didn’t get the appropriate A level grades. 

Mr Townsend was a blind piano tuner who lived in our village.  I was about nine years old when he put his hand on my head and felt my skull.  He predicted I’d be a low comedian.  Maybe it’s not too late.

I wonder how those fisherman saw their futures when an itinerant rabbi told them to stop fishing and follow him.

          Lord of every pilgrim heart,

          bless our journeys

          on these roads

          we never planned to take,

          but

          through your

          surprising wisdom

          discovered

          we

          were

          on…

(Peter Millar, from A Book of Blessings)

Chris Dawson

When I have won my gold medal, who am I?  Or more challenging still, perhaps, having spent four years and not got the expected medal, who am I?  Not questions that most of us have to answer.  But we all have the challenge of identity.  Who am I in relation to myself, to others and, ultimately – or is it foremost – to God?

It is tempting to seek identity in places that turn out in the end to be an illusion, all of them fading with age and time.  To seek it in money, status and power.  Through being clever and achieving.  By being an influencer, or belonging to an in crowd. 

We all need to know that we exist and to have our existence acknowledged.  The worst thing is to be ignored – people living on the street will tell you that.  We also need to know that we are loved and valued just for who we are.  Identity is more than the persona we create, or the picture in our Greater Manchester bus pass.  It is, as John reminds us, ultimately about love, about loving relationships.

That is challenging, because to find our identity, we have to let go the identity we have created and connect with those around us in a spirit of love.  As John exhorts us, “Beloved, let us love one another; for love is of God.”  Identity is about giving and receiving, loving and being loved and connecting with our source.

At the end of the Women’s Pentathlon all the competitors embraced each other,  stood in a line across the track, held hands and, with smiles on their faces, raised them aloft in a salute to an applauding crowd.  Thousands of individual identities merged in a greater loving whole.

Chris Dawson

The opening ceremony of the Paris Olympics was certainly different.  Instead of taking place in a stadium, it was a continuous procession down the Seine, with teams and tableaux on barges. 

In spite of the incessant rain, there were some magic moments. Celine Dione singing Edith Piaf’s Hymne à l’amour and the Marseillaise  sung by soprano Axelle Saint-Cirel from the rooftop of the Grand Palais.  Not to mention the silver horse with Sequana, the goddess of the Seine on its back, riding up the river to the Eiffel Tower.

This tableau of the horse and rider, entitled Solidarité, was intended to embody the Olympic spirit.  But what was the intention behind the tableau with transgender model and singer, Paloma, at its centre.  Dressed as Dionysus, the Greek God of wine and pleasure, other drag queens posed either side of her, to many the scene was reminiscent of Da Vinci’s depiction of The Last Supper.

“Is nothing sacred?”  I hear some people say.  Yes, the tableau has caused quite a stir.  But what do we mean by “sacred”?  To followers of Islam the black stone in the Kaaba at Mecca is sacred, Christian scriptures are often referred to as sacred, to pagans Stonehenge is sacred.

“Sacred”, it seems to me, is a value we humans put on things, depending on our view of the world, our culture and the beliefs we hold.  What if we held all of creation to be sacred and treated it as such?  Now, that would be a challenge.

Chris Dawson 

It’s a wonderfully warm day today and I joked that I was glad that I hadn’t entered the Olympics this year.  I wouldn’t have had the energy in this heat!  Of course, you can’t self-select yourself for such a competition.  But we do tend to set ourselves our own challenges and competitions. 

Sometimes we push ourselves, as the Olympic motto puts it, to become,”Swifter, Higher, Stronger.”  And sometimes even that is not enough.  One of Team GB’s swimmers, Max Litchfield came 4^th in the Individual Medley final.  He missed out on a medal by hundredths of a second.  His time would have won Olympic Gold 4 years ago.

Adam Peaty is a phenomenal breast stroke swimmer.  He has already won gold medals at two previous Olympics.  Last Sunday evening he went for a third and came equal second.  The winner was a mere two hundredths of a second faster than him.  All that training, all those mental challenges – and he has spoken publicly of his mental health struggles – all the ‘doing without’ to achieve a single goal.  How do you handle that?

The writer of the Letter to the Hebrews likens the Christian journey to a race and urges us to, “run with perseverance the race that is set before us,” with Jesus as our example and guide.   As part of that journey we might also embrace the other three Olympic values of Excellence, Respect and Friendship.  Adam did just that when he immediately embraced and congratulated the gold medal winner, Nicolo Martinengi.

Chris Dawson

It’s peak holiday time again.  The flights to and from Manchester are just as numerous as before Covid. 

This weekend some 20,000 Mallorcans protested in their main square in Palma.  As one of them put it, “We don’t want to be a theme Park.” What did a tourist think?  “I’m here with a girlfriend for a long weekend,” she said.  “We flew from Liverpool.  It’s only a three hour flight.”

Yes, we all need time out, time for refreshment, renewal and reconnection – as Jesus shows us when he and his disciples remove themselves from the crowds.

Cheap as an all-inclusive holiday to Mallorca may be, it still excludes plenty of people – bereaved families and families living in poverty, often with a child with additional needs.  Such families are supported to take a break within this country by the Family Holiday Charity: 

Mandy has a slipped disc and suffers from fibromyalgia.  Her son Logan, has a prosthetic leg and autism.  Her daughter, Erin, is often called on to help around the home.  Mandy and Erin are considered as Logan’s carers.

Erin and Logan lost their father, Chris, unexpectedly at the start of the Covid pandemic.  As Mandy says, “Since then we have been feeling a bit lost.”  Unsurprisingly, relationships between the three have sometimes been a little fractious.

The holiday was just what the family needed.  “The kids got to spend some time bonding and I got time with each of them individually.  Plus, I actually had some alone, just me and the dog which was nice.  It’s helped us to realise that sometimes you just have to step back a bit…To be given that opportunity to help us heal was phenomenal.”

Chris Dawson

It was the Greek philosopher Heraclitus who remarked that “ No-one ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and they are not the same person.” 

We may not notice the fact, or we may choose to ignore it, but all of life is like that.  What may seem to be static is shifting and changing – our surroundings and ourselves.  It’s all movement and process.  That can be hard, because, as human beings we want some predictability and a sense of safety.  We want a balance between novelty and familiarity.  To know where we are.

Downsizing brings this dilemma home.  What can I keep that is not only useful, but familiar and comfortable?  It raises questions about what I really need and what I can let go. Essentially it questions and challenges me about my values, “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” (Mark 12:34)

So might this recognition of impermanence be an opportunity?  An opportunity to acknowledge that I am part of this inevitable process, to recognise at a deeper level what is important and to let go, because, “When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.” Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching.

Chris Dawson

“Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful.”

(Luke 6:36)

Once upon a time, in a dense forest, lived a mighty lion.  King of the jungle.  One day, after a large meal, he was taking a nap under the shade of a large tree.  While he was sleeping, a tiny mouse was scurrying about looking for food.  Accidentally, the mouse ran across the lion’s nose, waking him up.  In one swift movement, the lion trapped the little mouse under his huge paw.

“How dare you disturb my sleep!” roared the lion. “ I shall make a meal out of you to teach you a lesson!”

Trembling with fear, the mouse pleaded for his life. “Please, mighty lion, spare my life.  If you let me go, I promise I will return your kindness someday.”

The lion laughed at the idea of a tiny mouse ever helping him, but he was in a good mood and decided to let the mouse go.  “Run along, little one.  You are free,”  he said.

Time passed and one day, while prowling near the edge of the forest, the lion was caught in a hunter’s net.  He struggled fiercely, but the harder he tried the tighter the net became.

Hearing the lion’s desperate roars, the mouse recognised the voice as that of the lion who had spared his life.  He quickly ran to the source of the sound and saw the lion was trapped.  Without wasting any time, the mouse began to gnaw at the ropes of the net with his sharp teeth.  Slowly but surely the mouse made a hole big enough for the lion to escape. The lion, free at last, was amazed at the little mouse’s help. “Thank you, dear friend.  You have saved my life, just as you promised,”  said the lion, humbled by the mouse’s compassion.  (Aesop’s Fables)

As the Spanish proverb says:  “Today you.  Tomorrow me.”

Chris Dawson

“You’ve got four jackets.”

“Yes, but they’re all different – different colours match different occasions.  Two are everyday, one is lightweight and one is dark and formal.”

“And the blazer?”

“Yes, that makes five, I know.”

That’s the kind of conversation I have been having with myself recently.  We’re downsizing.  Easy to say, and the practicalities are often quite straightforward.    It’s the letting go of the memories and emotional attachments.

I’ve been through this before, but not so intensively.  This letting go, moving on.  Those attachments are powerful, but do they represent my relationships with myself and other people and who I am today?  If they do, perhaps I am stuck.  Like the clutter I am trying to clear. 

I have made start.  I’ve taken twenty three boxes of books to Oxfam.  They tell me they have raised several hundred pounds.

Ah, but the jackets….

”He who has two coats, let him share with him who has none; and he who has food, let him do likewise.” (Luke 4:11)

Chris Dawson

Human beings tend to like certainty.  We like things to be predictable.  But predictable may exclude possibilities.

In writing a booklet on mental skills for young footballers (I started out life as a PE teacher) I wrote: “Football is a game of possibilities.  Few things are fixed.  Few things are inevitable.  Unless you think they are!  A game isn’t lost or won until the final whistle.  Unless you think it is.”

OK so life isn’t a football match, but all aspects of life hold possibilities.  And those possibilities do depend on our attitude, our beliefs and our relationships.  It is about being open and open hearted.  In religious terms, it is being open to the presence of God in situations and, above all, in people where we might not expect it.

It may mean crossing the street literally and figuratively. 

I have set myself the pleasure of greeting the people I pass on my five minute walk to church.  On Sunday I crossed the road to greet a lone person walking on the other side.  No-one else was about.  I said, “Good morning,” and he stopped and smiled.  “ Good morning, “ he replied.  He continued, “I looked up and thought, this man is crossing the road to speak to me.  How nice.  God bless you, sir.”  “You too,” I said.

I am because you are.

Chris Dawson

A friend of mine forwarded me a picture of his 5 year old grandson.  He was dressed as a cowboy and pointing a revolver at a security guard outside a Star Wars Convention.  The security guard had his hands up in a gesture of surrender and an expression of mock terror on his face.   Cute?  Or disturbing?

My father told of how, “as little boys we always assumed that the Germans would make war – and we should be little drummer boys – the result of a very mild form of indoctrination.”  Signing up as a seventeen year old he met the reality of the trenches, of being shot and wounded – twice.

Last week we commemorated the 80^th anniversary of the D-Day Landings, the start of the liberation of Europe.  Interesting words, “commemorate”- remembering something together – and “liberation”.  And what was Europe liberated from?  Among other things from a regime that said that some people are of value and others are not.

On last week’s Antiques Roadshow a woman brought a picture of her grandfather in military uniform, seated at a table in a First World War dugout.  He had been a stretcher bearer.  On his chest was the ribbon of the Military Medal awarded to him for bravery.   “Was he proud of receiving that?” asked the military expert.  “Yes, but he was more proud of a friendship he made that lasted a lifetime,” said his grandaughter.  He, with other stretcher bearers was picking up the wounded and came across a young wounded German.  The others wanted to “finish him off”, but her grandfather insisted he had a right to be saved and to live.  They connected, corresponded and visited each other until they were both into their nineties.

Blessed are the peacemakers.

Chris Dawson