Spice is the variety of life

Just back from another excellent meal at the only Korean restaurant in Glasgow (maybe Scotland?) It is called Kokuryo

I was there with a group of Koreans to celebrate the graduation of one Korean friend (EunJin) from Glasgow University- as an MSc. Well done, EunJin!

If you've never tasted Korean food before... you should. But don't ask what is in any of the dishes. It is better not to know. Only joking about that. (But if you don't like seafood you may struggle.)

One of the Koreans asked me if the food wasn't too spicy for me. "No." I said, "not too spicy at all." He pressed me further. "Well, on a scale of 1 to 5 where would you put it for spiciness?" "About 3," I said. He was quite surprised by that until I explained to him that Glasgow is the curry capital of Europe- and we like our curries hot. Of course, Korean food is very different from Indian food but, as I pointed out, I've had many years to get use to chillies and garlic. It would have to be very hot to beat me!

In fact, I like to try any kind of food, from any part of the world - and there is not much that I can't eat. Some people, however, can be extremely fussy. Often, I suspect, it is because they just won't take the risk of trying something new. They prefer to play safe with what they already know.

It's not just in food that this applies, though. It's the same with ideas and experiences. Some people are afraid to entertain new ideas, or new ways of thinking, or new ways of doing things. Churches are full of these 'fussy eaters' who only want what they have always known and are not willing to try something new. But not all the 'fussy eaters' are in churches. You can find them anywhere.

I still love a good old-fashioned plateload of mince and tatties (minced beef and mashed potatoes for those not familiar with this traditional Scottish dish) but not every day.

A little bit of spice adds variety to life.

Eye in the Sky

Another snap from my short trip to London.
Maybe I should explain that the reason I only have pictures of the London Eye and not from it is that I am more than a little bit nervous about heights.
It's one of those irrational fears that sometimes creeps up on you from behind, just when you think you had it beat.
Given this particular phobia which I've had since early childhood, it may be surprising to some people that I once got a job in a roofing company. It's true though. (I was a student and needed the money and it was the only work I could get one summer.)
I have to confess that in a number of respects it was a thoroughly educational experience for someone training to become a minister. When I started the job I was more or less terrified of any height above my own head, but it's amazing what you learn to cope with when necessary, and after a few weeks I was clambering up roof flashings 50 feet off the ground and walking on slate roofs 100 feet up (...sorry I still think in the old measurements - you can do the conversions yourself...) without any form of safety harness, or rail to prevent us slipping off and turning to mince on the pavement.
I don't know if the Health & Safety Executive had not yet come into being but I do know that there was precious little concern for our safety and I wasn't convinced the job was good for my health.
Anyway it all came to a head (wall-head that is) one day when I was almost at the top of a ladder that was leaning against the wall of a factory, whose roof we were allegedly repairing. The main problem was that the length of the ladder was a little bit less than the height of the wall. (About 30 feet.) It meant that to get on to the roof you had to stand on the second top rung of the ladder, grab the wall head flashing, and pull yourself up. A fairly risky business at the best of times.
On this particular occasion, the foreman, a rather cocky Glaswegian with a slightly warped sense of humour, was holding the ladder for me. Just as I had arrived at the second top rung and was reaching out to grab hold of the wall-head, the foreman suddenly pulled the ladder away from the wall and began shaking it backwards and forwards while I clung on like a performing monkey. Clearly my performance was bringing some joy and entertainment to my supposed protector below as he was bellowing with laughter. Then he shouted up some words that I doubt I will ever forget: "All right then, Reverend, let's hear ye sayin' yer ******* prayers noo...!"
He didn't hear me saying them... but that doesn't mean that they weren't being said!

Water under Westminster Bridge

Earlier this week I had the opportunity to go down to London and visit my daughter, Linsay, who is currently working at the Houses of Parliament. It was good to catch up with her news and also to meet in person some of the people she is working with.
I especially enjoyed being given my own personal tour of "the corridors of power" with Linsay as my very own tour guide.
Of course, I couldn't take any photographs inside. But I did take the obligatory tourist-eye cliche snap of Big Ben, with its gilded stonework gleaming in the sunshine.
I wonder how many times this has been photographed?

I also wonder how many of the people who live in London ever actually look at it - or any of the other "sights" for that matter?
It's the same wherever you go around the world. The majority of the 'locals' just take for granted all the things that other people have travelled many miles to see. They no longer seem to 'see' them at all.
What good photographers are able to do, though, is make everybody see the most familiar of things in a new, and sometimes surprising, way. It's what all creative artists do. I think it's also what preachers are supposed to do.
It's not easy.

Unfortunately I didn't have a lot of time to share with Linsay - and even less time to think about creative photography - but I did try to look at one the latest London sights (the London Eye) from a few different angles. All from ground level I hasten to add. I tried to make use of the low sun, as if it was shining through the lampost, but it didn't quite work.
Ah, well... I guess I'll just have to take another trip down to London some time....

What I find sad is the way so many people seem to go through the whole of their lives failing to notice what is around them.
You only have to really look for a moment to see that every moment is unique and that even the most familiar sight is not the same as it was a moment ago. But if you plod along waiting for life to happen to you, you're going to waken up one morning and discover it has already rushed past you like water under a bridge.

Reflections on the Indian River

With the rain pouring down here and the days becoming very short, I decided to haul out this photograph of the Indian River at Cocoa, Florida, another one of my favourite places in the world.
It's such a tranquil spot in the early morning as the sun comes up.
We have also stood in that same place to watch a Space Shuttle launch, although (if I remember correctly) that particular launch was postponed.
It's some time now since I visited there, staying with some very special friends.
Somehow the approaching winter weather has given me a notion to go back. I wish I could.
I suppose there have been lots of times in my life when I wish I could have gone back- perhaps to do things differently, perhaps just to relive some special experience, but, of course, time doesn't work that way for us. And the only way is forward. I just hope that will include the possibility of visiting Cocoa again some time soon.
On a much less serious note- the script for our church pantomime has now been completed and rehearsals begin on Sunday. We have until the first weekend in February to get the show on stage. Not easy with Christmas in between (not to mention regular work!!) But I think it is going to be great fun for everyone who has volunteered to take part.
At this stage, I'm not going to give away any secrets about the plot or the characters, but I will reveal the title: Jack and the Beans Talk.
Now that's an original one isn't it?

These feet were made for walking...

OK - technically it is not much of a photograph. It's just something I managed to snap quickly through a shop window in Venice. But what a cool pair of shoes, don't you think?

Shoes disguised as feet!! Now that's what I call originality!

I guess we all know what it means to walk in someone else's shoes - even if it is not something we do very well. As a Christian I am supposed to walk in the footsteps of Jesus Christ, but I don't find that at all easy: not when I start to think seriously about some of the things he said.

In particular I am thinking about his command to his followers to "Love your enemies!" I'll be preaching about this on Sunday- though I don't yet know what I'm going be saying.

I tried to find a hymn that might go along with the text but, to my surprise, couldn't find anything suitable. So I decided to write one myself today. It's a bit rough yet. One or two lines I'm not happy with. But I won't have time to refine it before Sunday.

Although my congregation will give the hymn its 'premiere' you saw it first here!

It is no easy task, O Lord,
to walk the way that you have shown,
to pray for those who wish us hurt,
or love the ones who cause us pain;
yet your commands are very clear
we cannot doubt what you desire.

For your example, Lord, is plain
and your commands are all too clear;
forgiving words at insults thrown,
demanding words for those who fear—
“Love more than friends, love enemies too:
not only those who will love you.”

Give us the strength, O loving Lord,
to take this costly path of peace,
and though it be no easy road,
teach us this day to live by grace;
as children of our God above
we’ll learn to walk the way of love.
© Iain D. Cunningham, 2006 [Tune: St. Petersburg]

Eyes Wide Open

I had a great time at the Korean Church on Sunday and, thankfully, everyone was infinitely friendlier than the character in the photograph, taken in 2002.

[The photo is of one of the four 'guardians' at the entrance to a temple in Seoraksan National Park in Korea. I think it is called Shinghungsa (Temple of Compassion) but I can't really remember now. What I do remember is that in the gatehouse there were four of these characters each about 4 metres high. ]

But, as I said, nothing like this greeted me at the Korean Church in Glasgow. Instead I was given a very warm welcome and, after the service, a very large and tasty meal! (Prepared by the young adult group.)
It is a good experience to go to a place where you are very definitely in the minority and where you do not understand the language. You learn to listen in all sorts of other ways.
It is also an interesting experience to preach with an interpreter - something which I have done not only in Korea but also in Kenya.
Having a naturally inquisitive mind I really enjoy meeting people from different cultures. I enjoy even more the chance to visit new places and see for myself the rich diversity of cultures that still exist in our world, in spite of 'globalisation.'
But I find it sad that many people seem to be afraid to step out of their own comfort zone and learn about those who are different from them- not only in language or customs, or colour, but in other less obvious ways.
Of course it is important for people to belong to a 'tribe' but some kinds of tribalism (as anyone who lives in the West of Scotland will know) can be depressing and dangerous and lead to a very narrow view of the world.
I feel privileged to live in an age where an ordinary person like myself has the opportunity to explore something of the rich diversity that exists in the world, and, thanks to new technologies, we can all do some of that exploring without even leaving the comfort of our own homes.
But if you want to taste real kimchi you do have to go to the people who know how to make it.

S(e)oul Searching

Like the outfits?

No - they are not dressed up for Hallowe'en.

These are guards at the Changgyeong Palace in Seoul, which I visited in 2002.

I am looking forward to developing links with Korean friends by speaking at the Korean Church in Glasgow this coming Sunday - but I don't expect anyone to be dressed like this.

Like Glasgow (but on a vastly greater scale) Seoul is built along the banks of a river, the Han. Together with the surrounding mountains, the river helps to establish the character of the city. It also was for me something of a metaphor for what was an all-too-short visit to South Korea.

The poem below comes from the time of that visit.

Sunset on the Han River

On the south bank of the Han
the late Spring sun
lowers herself gently
onto the lap of the pale white hills.

Gentle fingers of soft cloud
caress her forehead
and she stretches and settles for the night,
pillowed by the earth's embrace.

The Han slides slowly by
beneath its ever-busy bridges
while darkness descends
like a benediction.

I would find it easier
to gather the Han in my arms
or cradle the sun in my lap,
than, with a few poor words,
hold on to moments
that have meant so much.

© Iain D. Cunningham

Well, I didn't manage to see my football team playing this weekend... so they lost 2 - 1 to Celtic.

I really think Motherwell FC ought to pay me to be a spectator. When I go they win! (Well, it has happened twice.)

I couldn't go to the football because on Friday and Saturday I was at Harrogate for the Northern Christian Resources Exhibition organised by Christian Resources Exhibitions. I was part of a team giving a presentation on the forthcoming three day event in Glasgow which is to be called "Nexus 2007" Check out what it's about.

Open Doors and Closed Minds

Another picture from Kenya.
This is inside the "Church of the Torch" at Thogoto (Thogoto-land is apparently a Kikuyu corruption of 'Scotland' and this was where Scottish missionaries settled over a century ago.)

I loved the sense of peace that is evoked by the shaft of light coming through the window and touching the stone.
Not long before I took this picture there was some considerable controversy in Kenya about church windows.

Here's a little piece of verse written many years ago

THE HOUSE OF GOD

He wanted to say
I’m just like you
I’ve got fears and depressions
And hang-ups too
He wanted to know
The carpenter’s son
But the men at the door
Wouldn’t let him in.

They didn’t say no
They didn’t say go
They didn’t say anything
But they let him know
That his hair was too long
That his speech was too broad
That he shouldn’t be seen
In the House of God

They asked for his card
He didn’t have any
They asked him for money
He hadn’t a penny
He wanted to ask
For compassion and care
But the people inside
Had none to share

He’d heard someone say
There was really a way
Out of all the depression
That made up his day
A way out of emptiness
Hunger and fear
But the men at the door
Said it wouldn’t be here

And while he was waiting
Alone and outside
Along came a man
Who stood by his side
His hair was long
And his hands were tough
His face was worn
And his speech was rough

He didn’t say no
He didn’t say go
He didn’t say much
But he did let him know
That his love charged no price
And had no limitation
That he offered his life
Without hesitation

So the two men tried
To enter again
But the faces around
Said we don’t want you in
This isn’t the place
For people like you
Come back when you’re like us
And then you’ll get through

If only they’d offered
To understand
If only they’d stretched out
A welcoming hand
They’d have touched the wounds
And noticed the blood
But his hair was too long
And his speech was too broad
And he shouldn’t be seen
In the House of God

© Iain D. Cunningham

Heroes

No, this is not the Tartan Army on the way back from the Ukraine! It's a group of Kikuyu people in Kenya, dressed in traditional costume, especially for the tourists. I took the photo four years ago on my first visit to Kenya while staying overnight at the Outspan Hotel.
I remembered the picture because over the last few days or so our church has had a Kenyan guest. (Julian runs an orphanage near Kikuyu in Kenya which our congregation helps to support.) Although I never actually got round to donning my kilt at any point during Julius' stay he still managed to get in a few light-hearted digs about the Scottish "skirt." And then I remembered that men wearing skirts were not confined to Scotland.

One of the places I took Julius to see was the David Livingstone Centre in Blantyre. The story of this most famous of all Scottish explorers and missionaries never fails to move me, so I am always glad of an excuse to take someone there.
It's a pity that a lot of Scottish people these days hardly know the story- no doubt because Christianity is unfashionable at the moment. But you don't have to be a believer to be amazed at the single-minded commitment and determination of this man, especially to challenge the slave trade. He is someone who really did make a difference. Because he treated other people as if their lives mattered, in the end his life mattered and was worth something.
If you've never been to see where he was born and to learn about his commitment to Africa, and you can get to Blantyre some time, you should make every effort to do so. (You'll see this impressive sculpture depicting the time he was attacked by a lion.... He lived to tell the tale.)

While I'm talking about heroes... one of my other heroes, of a very different kind, is the Irish fiddler, Martin Hayes. Strange, you might think, that I should place him alongside David Livingstone. Martin Hayes himself would certainly think so, I'm sure. But there are some similarities. Well at least one I can think of. When Martin Hayes picks up the fiddle and gets into the groove he has the power to move people really deep down. He touches something in the human spirit that can transport people to another place, another world almost.
I was fortunate to hear him play at a Fiddle Force Winter School at Wiston Lodge. There were about forty or fifty of us crammed into the large lounge and when Martin Hayes played he was like a puppeteer pulling all of our emotional strings. (No wonder the Church in Scotland used to be very suspicious of fiddlers!!)
I wrote a short poem about it:

Banishing the wolftones*

With narrowed gaze
and shuffling stare
he crouches low
into the chair
as if in search of something
deep inside himself.

He lifts the fiddle bow,
deliberate
and slow,
to touch a string
that waits to be caressed
back into being.

By his gentle authority
and fierce care,
a tune vibrates
and spirals in the air,
released as some wild bird
into a desolate place.

He is wrapping
precious pearls of silence
with a bright silver foil
of sound,
and offering it to us
as a gift of grace.

I take the gift,
the bait that lures me
into a strange land,
for he has found,
and now ensnared,
my soul.

His awkward body now
unwinds and sways
and breathes
with every phrase,
rocking as a Jew who prays
beside the western wall.

How many centuries of longing
does it take
to form such sounds
that break,
and heal again,
by harmonising
joy and pain?
© 1998 Iain D. Cunningham


*wolftones — name given by fiddlers to the accidental
screeching sound of the bow on the violin strings

Written after hearing the Irish Fiddler, Martin Hayes,
playing at Fiddle Force Winter School 98, Wiston Lodge

A Scoreline to Savour

Wow! talk about winning!
How's this for a scoreline:

Scotland 1 France 0.

Played three: won three!

The picture on the left shows the River Clyde in Glasgow at night. A picture of serenity and peace.

But I guess not tonight for many people - apart from the raging storm blowing strong winds and heavy rain across the west of Scotland tonight. I think among football fans anyway there will be a storm of celebration.

I know... winning isn't everything. But when it comes to competitive sports, losing isn't anything! So let me just savour the moment. No doubt several months from now Scotland will contrive to do its usual trick of "snatching defeat from the jaws of victory" and failing to qualify for Euro 2008, but for now our team sits proudly at the top of the group and the rest of us congratulate them.

And now back to sermon writing....

.... until the highlights come on the telly!

Winners and Losers

I went to watch my football team today. (Motherwell FC)
We've been having a pretty hard time since the start of the season. I say 'we' but, unfortunately, for a variety of reasons I hadn't been able to get to a single match until day. But I chose the right day to go, because we won 5-0.!!!
I was going to say 'Poor Kilmarnock' but, to be honest I didn't feel much sympathy for the opposition at all. It's been such a struggle for us to get any points at all this season that today's performance and result were very sweet.

But, on reflection, I remember a Charlie Brown cartoon which had a caption that went something like: "Everybody loves a winner, but who is going to love the losers?"
One person who certainly did was Jesus. And I think if his followers are really following him they will do the same.

The photograph above was taken a number of years ago in Kenya. I have many more photographs like that one which underline the fact that much of the continent of Africa is pretty much the loser in the great economic competition that is going on in the world just now.
We are hoping soon to have a visit from a Kenyan friend who runs an orphanage (of which there are many in Kenya.) But his visit will depend very much on whether or not he is able to get a visa. That's another reminder to me that this world is a pretty uneven and unequal place. Being a British Passport holder I've never had any problem getting a visa to any country I've visited - and rich people from Kenya have few difficulties in obtaining a visa to come here, but if you are poor... it's a very different story.
I suppose we do need to limit economic migration into this country and, as far as possible, prevent illegal immigration, but all I can say is I am glad that God doesn't seem to operate the same sort of policies for entry into His kingdom- otherwise none of us is going to get past that particular border.

Pools of light

It's been a difficult day for me in a number of ways. I don't intend going into why but a couple of times during the day, just when I was feeling particularly stressed, I had these surprise moments of sudden peace and unexpected joy.
They reminded me of this little pool of sunlight I saw among some trees in Connecticut, New England. The pale yellow house just caught the sunshine and threw it straight back in all directions so that anyone (like me) who was passing by could catch a bit of it for themselves.
Since we have precious little light of our own, I think this is what we have to do with any light we receive from God- give it back out again, so other people can get a touch of it for themselves.
When you try to keep the light to yourself you just become a black hole!
On days like today, when it sometimes feel like the darkness has taken over too much of the picture, I am able to look back on that photograph which I took a few years ago and recover that sense of peace and know that I have an obligation to share it with others.

By the way, I should have said before, in case anyone hasn't tried it yet- you can click on any of the photos to get a larger version of them. Especially if you want to use any of them as a focus for your own reflections.

A Reasonable Delusion?

Tonight I watched the BBC programme "Newsnight" as I often do, and I saw Jeremy Paxman 'interview' Richard Dawkins about his newly-published book "The God Delusion."
It's not the kind of thing I do often but on this occasion I couldn't resist posting my own comments to the BBC Newsnight website.
What I said was simply this:

"What a man of faith Richard Dawkins is! He has an unshakeable (and passionately evangelical) faith in the absolute power of human reason. (Or at least his own.) It's just a pity for him that the history of science is full of people who thought they had the last word on all sorts of things only for later generations of scientist to prove they were talking nonsense, or at best had only a quite limited understanding of that which they had been observing. Professor Dawkins claims to be interested in truth - well, perhaps the truth for Richard Dawkins might be twofold (1) there is a God and (2) you are not him. "
Professor Dawkins might think he is being original but 3000 years ago the Psalmist said "the fool says in his heart there is no God."
We'll see who's right, ultimately.

But I think we should be glad of one thing from the storm in a teacup that Richard Dawkins (as usual) has caused. He has firmly stated his belief in truth. It's a refreshingly 'un-post-modern' notion but one which I share with him. We just disagree with each other on what the truth actually is- although he is a bit more dogmatic than I am in asserting that he knows the truth. I am sure the truth is a lot bigger than any of us can know, no matter how clever we might be.

Clouds in the pond

The photo is of my sister's garden pond and has nothing whatsoever to do with the piece of writing quoted below, but, hey, who cares?

I like seeing the clouds in a pool of water because both originate from each other.

Where is the beginning? Where is the end?

My last post raised the questions of what is true and what is not, what is real and what is not. Below is a great summary of what I believe to be real. Just wish I'd written it myself.

What I Learned from Jesus

A gift does not need to be costly in order to be big.
A little child is worth God's time.
All who believe are brothers and sisters.
Be thankful.
Be the first to say, "I'm sorry," and the first to forgive.
Believing means clinging with your whole heart.
Clothe yourself in prayer.
Commune with God.
Cry.
Dance.
Don't judge.
A respected pillar of the community can be two steps from Hell,
and a prostitute can be two steps from Heaven.
Don't worry about tomorrow. Today has enough worries of its own.
Every blade of grass, every twinkling star, every ticklish friend,
is a blessing from God.
Cherish them.
Everything in the whole Creation tells us something about God.
Give someone a gift today.
God delights in you.
God has a sense of humor.
God is a friend who'll never, never leave you.
God is an artist.
God is everywhere, from the highest star to inside your heart.
There is nowhere you can go to escape his presence -- or his love.
God is found, not in earthquake nor fire nor mighty wind,
but in a soft and gentle whisper.
God is your Daddy.
God watches over even the little sparrows.
Heaven is very close.
He is risen!
He who sings, prays twice.
He who dances, sings twice.
He who laughs, dances twice.
He who prays, laughs twice.
Hug your friends.
If you have to have everything under your control,
trusting God may look as stable as a cow on ice skates.
Trust him anyway. It's worth it.
If you want God to smile, tell him your prayers.
If you want God to laugh, tell him your plans.
It's never too late to repent.
Joy comes from suffering.
Keep on forgiving.
Laugh.
Listen to other people's stories.
Listen to the silence.
Love God with your whole being.
Love one another.
Love your enemies.
Love your neighbor as yourself.
Make every action a prayer.
Make your prayers and your good deeds secret.
Play with children.
Prayers ascend like incense before God's throne.
Purity does not reside in the hands, but in the heart.
Respect the aged.
Rest.
Serve.
Sing.
Take time to be alone with God.
Tell God you love him.
Tell your friends that you love them.
The Heavens tell the glory of God.
There are miracles all around.
You just have to be able to see.
Treasure God's smallest blessings.
We can bring little pieces of Heaven down to earth.
What you do for the least, you do for God.
Work is a blessing from God.
You are God's image. - Christos Jonathan Hayward From "Jonathan's Corner" at http://www.jonathanscorner.com/

Layers

I was sitting in a car in Edinburgh one day, waiting for one of my daughters. The car was parked outside an estate agent's office and in the window of the office was a large model house. At the same time I could see, in the car's wing mirror, reflections of the buildings behind me and reflections of reflections from the car windows, also in the mirror.
I couldn't resist photographing it because it seemed to me to be just like life itself - so many different layers of meaning, so many angles from which to look at things, so many problems of perception, that it is hard sometimes to know what is real, what is a copy and what is a mere reflection.

Life seems to get more complex every day and we have access to so much information that sometimes it seems impossible to sort it all out and make up our minds about what is real and true and what is not.
The great post-modern temptation is just to give up and conclude that there is no such thing as absolute truth. "If it works for you that's OK!" goes the mantra.
But that's not enough for me. I may not know the 'whole truth' and it is almost certain that what I believe could not be described as 'nothing but the truth' but I can't accept that there is 'no such thing as absolute truth.'

Photographs themselves are not reality: simply one view of something, from one particular angle, flattened into two dimensions. But usually they represent something that was really there at a particular moment in time.
Sorting out what is real from all the other layers is the great adventure of the spiritual life.

Here's an interesting little story I came across. Make of it what you will.

Round the twist?

OK, I know I said I would be talking about reflections and posting pictures of the same, but in my last post I said 'you never know what is round the next bend' and it reminded me of this picture I took in Hong Kong.

I loved the twisting patterns of the walkway because life is just like that sometimes. You think you're going one way and almost before you know it you are going in a different direction altogether.

Few things in nature come in straight lines and, for that matter, few things in life are straightforward. But, then, that's what makes life interesting is it not?

Round the bend

Ravenstonedale, England.

Another peaceful image, taken in 2005.

This picture reminds me that finding peace in life is not about resting all the time: it is about the journey.

You never know what's round the bend- and you never will know till you move on and see for yourself.

The way we learn?

Rest
Of all the many, many photographs I have ever taken, this has to be one of my favourites.
I use it as the wallpaper for my laptop, because it is so restful. It was taken on a summer evening at Cornhill House, near Biggar, Scotland.

Do you remember in the Winnie the Pooh stories that Pooh Bear had his special "thinking spot"?
Well, this is mine.
Not that I actually have time to go to the place itself, but the photograph is usually enough to give me 'space' to reflect.

I've heard it said that adults learn through experience. I wish that were true. And I wish it were as easy. In fact, adults only learn if they reflect on their experiences, and even then it is all too easy to forget the lessons learned.

For me, reflection usually involves a kind of internal dialogue. In other words, I talk to myself.
I know... it doesn't sound too good does it?
But, you know, if you don't talk to yourself, you're never going to learn much.

It's an interesting phenomenon, though. Think about it. In fact ask yourself about it!
If I am talking to myself does it mean there is more than one "me"? And if the dialogue in my head is between two parts of 'me' which part of me is it that makes the final decision between the debating parties? Maybe there's a third 'me' that adjudicates?
Confused? .... you will be...

It's because all of this 'reflecting' process goes on in my head from time to time that I actually don't find it all that difficult to hold on to the Christian doctrine that God is Three-in-One. Why should we expect the Creator of such a complex and beautiful world to be more simple than ourselves?

I think I'd better get back to my tree...

Earth, Air, Fire and Water

Naksan-sa
I took this picture in 2002 of part of the Naksan Temple complex near Sokcho in South Korea.
It was a beautiful place and a serenely spiritual place where the harmony between nature and human creativity was almost perfect.
I have to say 'was' because most of the temple complex and the surrounding forests were destroyed by fire on 4th April 2005.
Human beings are not always kind to the natural world but sometimes it seems that Nature gets its own back in the most terrifying of ways.
Apparently only 2 of the 20 or so temple buildings escaped destruction. It was a great pity- not to mention a stark reminder of the fragility of all things on this planet, including ourselves.
(picture below is from The Seoul Times)














I believe the Korean Government pledged a massive sum towards reconstruction work and, for all I know, the restoration may already have been carried out. I hope so.
I am glad, though, that I did have the privilege of seeing Naksan-sa as it was.

I am recording these reflections as the very first signs of autumn seem to be appearing around me. This is a time of year which always shouts at me to "seize the day."
Beauty is so fragile and so short-lived. It saddens me to know that so many people hardly seem to notice the beauty around them every day and won't notice it until it is gone.

"The sketching of a word on paper

or the ghost of an idea

are as fleeting as the glance of light

reflected from a rippling pool

or the wings of a butterfly

rubbed against the summer air."

from a poem entitled "Images" © Iain D. Cunningham

Glowing in the dark

Since the last photograph had no reflection in it at all I decided to post this one of the Ponte Vecchio in Florence, taken last year.

This time I don't really have anything to say about it. I think I prefer the picture to speak for itself. I like it, though, when human creativity works together with nature to produce a sense of harmony. All too often they seem to fight against each other.

I think there is something here that Christians can learn from Buddhists, but more of that at a later date.