Tag: Mr G

For the beauty of the earth.

Langdale Pikes from Grizedale Forest, Lake District. Photo by Gill Henwood

My friend Gill Henwood has sent me the photo posted above. It is  a view of Langdale Pikes from Grizedale Forest, in the Lake District.
There is a certain broodiness about it with its different shades of light and dark which is rather in keeping with the extremities of weather at present in the UK.
The Lake District is a microcosm of our weather patterns and it is always wise, when walking in the Lakeland hills, to have a healthy respect for what Nature offers us. At one level we may call it fickle in that the conditions often change quickly. In another sense, it is a reminder that Planet Earth, and therefore its weather, is not something we can control. Sadly, we are messing things up with our human attempts at superiority over everything on earth.
The current preoccupation with the Northern Lights and with rare sightings of spectacular comets, along with other special things such as solar flares, remind us that these amazing displays from the cosmos are not of our making. They tell us, in fact, how small we are in the Universal scheme of things.
Unfortunately, the human race isn’t very good at learning lessons and applying them with humility to our borrowed and temporary life on earth. It was the poet T.S.Eliot who coined the phrase, humankind cannot bear very much reality so perhaps we shall continue to destroy the earth – and, of course, each other!

It would be good, therefore, if the human race might wake up to itself and accept that, as tenants with a life-span lower than many trees, a bit of humility might not go amiss.
As T. S. Eliot puts it in in his poem East Coker, “The only wisdom we can hope to acquire is the wisdom of humility: humility is endless.”

A large part of the lesson of humility can be found in contemplating the gifts God gives us through Creation. How can we not look at the scene depicted in the Gill’s photo above and be unmoved by what nature is trying to tell us about the Planet which is our home for the time being.
The light shimmering on the hills and the blue sky quietly folding itself around the clouds offers us a message of hope. It is just as true of a tuft of grass or a tiny flower pushing aside the tar of an urban footpath.
When the warmongers of the Middle East and  the Russian invasion of Ukraine come to an end, they will leave desolation but it won’t be long before a blade of grass or a microscopic flower spring to life.
Gill’s photo gives me hope. I have added a few words from a lovely hymn by Folliott Sandford Pierpont. He sat on a hill near Bath and was exhilarated by the beauty of creation which was laid out before him. Inspired by what he saw, he was filled with gratitude to God and he wrote his hymn in thanksgiving.

That too is another clue coming from Gill’s photograph ~ thanksgiving.
When we give thanks for Creation and for God who created it, we find ourself in a different place from lordship, conceit and self-centredness. In fact, thanksgiving, turns our attention towards others, towards providence and therefore towards God as Creator.
The photo is filled with the promise. of light and that is a source of joy and hope. If none of this means anything, then perhaps another thought might help – remember the Dinosaurs!

[Mr G] 14th October 2024

– Walter Rauschenbusch

A Tree of Life

photo: Rowan Tree, Lake District. Gill Henwood

Thank you to my friend Gill Henwood who has sent me this photo of a Rowan Tree in the Lake District.
There are a number of legends associated with the Rowan.
They are are known as Mountain Ash because they often take root in mountainous areas, but they are unrelated to Ash Trees.
The Rowan  was cited by Plato, the pre-Christian Greek Philosopher who mentions it in in his Symposium
They have a place in Celtic mythology and were sacred to Druids who saw them as portals between death and rebirth.
It was often planted near homes because ancient belief associated it with the qualities of courage, wisdom and protection, which they treasured.
Early Welsh Christianity refers to it as the Tree of Life because  it was thought that the Cross of Christ was carved from the wood of the Rowan, the blood red berries being symbolic of the blood of Christ.
This thought leads me to offer this little Pondering.

[Mr G. 17th September 2024]
Photo by Gill Henwood.

Normandy Beaches

 Marking the 80th anniversary of D-Day, the ‘Standing with Giants’ installation featuring 1,475 silhouettes of soldiers, soldiers and airmen, as well as two female nurses, is coming to an end. The installation was completed in mid-April, and will be removed from 1 September. It is a dramatic depiction of the D Day Landings.(Photo by Piers Northam)

Last week, whilst staying with a friend in Falaise, I was able to  share in the commemorations of the 80th Anniversary of the Battle of Normandy. Known locally as the  ‘Battle for the Falaise Gap.’ or ‘in military terms, the ‘Falaise pocket’. Just outside the town over 20,000 German soldiers made a final stand. On August 17th when Falaise was fully liberated by Canadian, British and Polish troops they were able to move on to the decisive battle in the Normandy campaign.
It had taken since D Day on the 6th June to reach Falaise. By the evening of 21st August the German army was surrounded. About 50,000 managed to escape but an estimated 50,000 were trapped. These all died. It had been a costly battle with heavy losses on the Allied side. By August 30, just a few days later, Paris was liberated and the remnants of the German Army retreated across the Seine.

D Day memorial at the recently opened British Normandy Memorial, a joint commemoration with the people of France.

Normandy Beaches.

You came as shooting stars
discharging fury from your boats,
intent on our death.
We defended land which was not ours,
uncertain of our rights,
but fear consumed us;
made us fight back.

We no longer fought for an ideology,
nor for the immortality of a band of evil despots.
We no longer cared for that,
as we showed the whites of our blinkered eyes.
We might yet win but all around us
death claimed our emptying souls.

And yet, we killed easily at first.
You were wading up mud-soggy beaches.
Your dying bodies filled with our shrapnel ,
wept blood into the earth.
And then, we too began to die,
our blood mingling with yours –
the earth  also claiming us in that moment of killing.

We stopped being enemies;
not yet friends,
but lesson-bearers certainly –
for goodness, honour, freedom, hope and peace –
dare we say, love?
United in a vital task.

Send our message to Russia, Ukraine, Israel, Gaza,
to Iran, America, China – to all the traumatized places
where they need the humility of liberation.

[GC 19th August 2024]

Listen

Porthsychan Cove, Pembrokeshire Coastal Path. Photo by Gill Henwood

Waves lapping on the shore,
caressing  pebbles,
Stroking backwards and forwards,
a rhythm of serenity and quiet pause,
contradicting the rush and the frantic lifestyle
which often overwhelms that inner search
for peace; for stillness.

We are advised to search for the still, small voice
which Elijah heard after the frenzy of earthquake,
wind and fire.

The thing is that he did not seek it.
The voice sought him.
All he did was stand uncertain of what was happening.
His world was crashing around him.
Confusion reigned.
But God waited and came quietly,
speaking words Elijah needed to hear.

And so for us
Like the waves, God’s grace flows across the pebbles
of our life as clear, pure water,
bathing us with His love.
He seeks us out and refreshes our life with new hope.

Sense the movement of the waves
and listen.
You may just find that there is  a message for you
which you need to hear.

[Mr G 8th August 2024]

“after immense Activity one passes into a phase
where passivity is the only way.
I pray that you may be finding this passivity as the way
in which the soul serves God, not by doing this or that
but by passively receiving the great stream of His love
and compassion.

{Michael Ramsey}

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The next Blog item will be later in August