Our Sunday School (Lift up our Hearts)

A hard end to a cruel year. Ditto to Philip's loving comment.

Hi all, Believe it or not, we are approaching our festival of Christmas. A festival bolted onto an existing northern hemisphere festival, celebrating the passing of the shortest day. Tongue in cheek with hope for the future. That was the celebration, longer days, with springtime around the corner. Wait a minute, we've the coldest month of the year to get through yet! Looking back, many of us have endured awful disappointments. Our stalwart member did just a few days ago, as well as the interruptions brought about by the pandemic, that goes on & on. A bit like me, I hope not! So what cheer can I bring to our souls that are so wanting just that. A bit of cheer. Sadly, I can't on my own, because for cheer to mean anything, it has to come from inside of each of us, but I can tell you a bit about a Christmas story. A book with just four chapters. I used to think that it was a sloppy story for romantic ladies, but few stories have thrilled me so much listening to it being read to me. The book of Ruth is a beautiful story. The events in it happened over 3,000 years ago. Because it is about ordinary people, this story can help us today. This story is about an ordinary family whose members suffered many losses but God went on looking after them. Then he gave them new gifts to make them glad. We do not know who wrote Ruth. Perhaps it was a familiar story that a *scribe wrote down after King David's death. In chapter 4 verses 18-22, there is a list of people who were born into Ruth's family. This includes King David. He was a very great king, an *ancestor of Jesus. The Book of Ruth is about a young widow, Ruth. Ruth was a foreigner. But she came to Israel to help Naomi. Naomi was Ruth's husband's mother. Ruth left her own country, to serve elsewhere, hoping for a better life than she was used to, living in a family that for most part was not up to much good. Naomi and Ruth were very poor. But Ruth could collect any grain that remained after the harvest. This was God's law. And one man who respected this law was called Boaz. So, Ruth came to Boaz's field to collect grain. Boaz saw Ruth and he loved her. He agreed to pay her family's debts, so that he could marry Ruth. Ruth was just a poor foreigner. But her family became Israel's royal family. Both King David and Jesus belonged to this family. I was heartened to be told by a very close Muslim friend, just how much ladies from so many faiths take so much encouragement from this story. Yes, story it is. No one is sure who wrote it, but by my faith I believe it to be God's word. That is just my faith. Certainly the facts tie with the genealogy to the birth of Christ. The whole book of just four chapters can be read almost as a bedtime story. I set my Kindle, to an easy read scripture version, selected a voice speaker & it was such sweet dreams. I can't labour on this, otherwise I abuse YOUR trust in me regards our forum content. I reserve these posts to special events, special events only. Thank you. To each of you, members of our forum, your families & friends, folks who may be just reading various topics, it's obvious I'm wishing you all a happy Christmas, but more than that, just as the book of Ruth theme is played out, that we all may be able to cope with whatever comes. God bless.

Thank you, Philip

No battlefield had soldiers asking for a padre, all asked for medics to ease the pain. No books were written in the very past, all were written in recent times, even the Dead Scrolls proved a different version to what we once believed. We all have our own beliefs, and see the world our own way and how we think, and history refutes what really happened in the Holy Land so many generations ago. I don't want to annoy anyone, or change anyone's thoughts, let us all go forth our own way and tackle what may come in our own hearts and souls.

Hi all, So much of our wellbeing is fuelled by our friendships. Straight away, recognising our forum ties. The best will in the world, we sometimes incur differences of opinion. I have issues with an organisation right now, not malice, it's frustration almost, because an important issue is stuck in the pending tray, but I believe intended to stay for ever. Sadly, none of us have forever, so an appropriate point is reached where we draw a line. I've posted this odd comment on this wellbeing topic, because just now & again a quote from literature comes to mind, this time from my friend Scripture. "But let my 'Yes' be 'Yes', and my 'No' be 'No'..." That can save a lot of going around in circles, hey. A part-quote from the book of Matthew. I do hope that can be of some help to us all.

Hi all, I wonder how many of us have a memory that is sparked or triggered into life by a tune or song. A Tesco price comparison advert that is current on our television screens just now is a case in point for me. ”Nothing much to do” There are others that figure quite well in my memory, but this one, released from a film in 1949, is so poignant as it reminds me of my first encounter with orthopaedic surgery stuff at Paybody Hospital in Allesley. I was two/three years old then, where I only have flash memories of specific events. I do remember this song, I remember the wireless in the ward. It's a sense of comfort tune to me, as although being separated from mummy & daddy for such long periods, I am now so aware of the fact that I was there because of the need to be there, because mummy & daddy cared & wanted the best for me. When I returned to Paybody when I was seven, for another duration, the wireless had long gone, a tele was in its place. So, you see, it's a comfort song that sits well with me. Every time the advert is played, my mind switches the tele screen off & displays my stark memories of the Paybody Hospital ward, together with the happiness of my upbringing. I was so fortunate. Happy memories are kindled every day when I pick up an implement that was Pam's, or as recently when my lovely neighbour, Kathy, had need of her wheelchair that she had lent for Pam to use, at the start of Pam's illness. As I wheeled it into her home, the comment was made that the last time it was used it had Pam in it. Yet, that for me is a happy memory. The connection being the kindness of Kathy, a widow herself. For me to imagine that all of my memories are happy memories, would be total fiction, many, many sad events, but such are buried so deep, that I have to dig so hard to try & remember them. It brings me in mind of a Sunday school hymn, where… "It soothes his sorrow, heals his wounds, And drives away his fear". I cannot say that I'm never fearful, but then I am still human. For me, the most important thing that I have learnt to do in life is to forgive. Gosh, isn't that hard? As hard as trying not to be fearful. Love to you all.

Philip, just to be accurate, the song is “Busy Doing Nothing” from the film “A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court”.

Like in a movie, music does add extra layers to our lives and hearing it again triggers memories. When I was a kid, Dad bought a record of “A Christmas Carol” with music providing the mood. Even now we (my sister and I) play it again at Christmas. It's somehow more magical than the films. The sombre moments, the scary bits and even the uplifting sections were punctuated by Vaughan Williams’ ”Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis”. The music makes me feel well loved, sad and cheered. There are of course carols as part of the story. My sister wants to do a live version in her local church with her am dram society. No set, just voices, music and a few sound effects. On a very different note, summer holiday waits in Geneva Airport were punctuated by the first notes of “How much is that dog...” as the bing bong notification. Every British person young of age or personality, silently finished “...gie in the window” and then quietly giggled.

I can truly say, every day, Philip, and then spend the following few hours humming it. My musical memory bank is overloaded. I hope you are having a lovely day with plenty of sunshine.

In the late 1950s I was packed off to Sunday School - I was probably about 6 years old at the time. I have an image and location in my mind - it was situated somewhere along The Mount in Cheylesmore? Hah... I recall standing around a piano with other kids singing to something or other - when we finished I was told my voice was too low and was sent home! Great stuff eh - so that was the extent of my Sunday School experience.... less than half a day!

Hi everyone. Oh how I wish that I could share a greeting of hope & peace, at this point in time where battle rages on our near continent. Sadly I can't, because my belief cuts straight through so many others’ beliefs. For me to do so would be totally in contradiction of the rules of our forum, as well as my love & respect for every member. My Scripture dictates to me that I must work out my own Salvation. For those of you who are so fearful, I can do no better than suggest reading the words in the Ninety First Psalm. It's not a long psalm, but it is such a comfort to me. I can recommend it. On a practical note, the only difference between this week & say any week last year or any year before that, is the battle is raging closer. Mozambique, saw eight hundred thousand displaced from their homes, with at least three thousand dead, but being in Africa it's not so close, but the misery is. There are so many things that I could share, but our forum is not the place for that. Not just because I'm in a privileged position on our forum, but because I'm party to those rules, for good reason. God bless & love to you all.

Hi Prof, I remember Bill Mahood from that church. Hope you are ok.

Yes Phil, and his wife Denise was part of the large Franklin family who all attended the church. Her aunt Joyce was a bridesmaid when I was married there in 1961.

That was my Sunday School. Thank you so much for that memory. Mr Mquen (cannot spell) is another name, as well as Brian Townsend. Hope you keep well.

I knew Rev Alan Lyde. I don't know whether he was ever connected to Harefield Road Congregational Church but he was at Foleshill Congregational Church when he retired.