As I sit down to write this, there is much in the news about public figures who have changed their minds and reassessed their direction of travel (in a metaphorical sense since travel is forbidden at the moment!).  The newspapers frequently give us headlines about politicians who have changed their policy, and this is often presented as a weakness and condemned as a U-turn;  the hapless public figure comes in for a great deal of negative publicity.  This always troubles me for a number of reasons.

Firstly, hindsight is a wonderful thing!  It’s much easier to be wise after the event.  When I think back over some of the major developments of the past year of pandemic such as introducing the first national lockdown in March 2020, the scientific evidence for wearing face masks, or introducing quarantine for passengers flying in from other countries, I have huge sympathy for government leaders who had to take radical decisions under unprecedented circumstances.  It’s not surprising that politicians are reluctant to set firm dates for returning to normal life because none of us can predict the future, least of all when dealing with illness and the spread of viruses.

Secondly, I have immense respect for people who are willing and able to change their mind.  It is the sign of a thoughtful and active brain when a person starts out with a particular view point, but after discussion with others, engagement with differing opinions, and on mature reflection, they can recognise that there may be a better way forward or a compromise.  Let’s applaud an open mind!

I have a laminated poster attached to our kitchen cupboard, from which I have received great comfort on several occasions over the last 10 years.  When I have got something wrong, whether of great significance or on a more trivial scale, I have returned to this encouraging text.  I have used it in sermons and reflected on it in private.  It comes from an article in the Harvard Business Review (probably not a journal frequently quoted in church sermons!) and it was written by Umair Haque in 2011, entitled ‘Mastering the Art of Living Meaningfully Well’. 

So consider this: when you fail, and fail big — forgive. Forgive the people around you. Forgive yourself. Examine the past, but don’t let it imprison you. You can dwell on your failure for years, and turn a trauma into a crisis. Or you can gently remember that mistakes aren’t the end of the world, but the beginning of wisdom — and firmly step forward into possibility.

As the great poet Antonio Machado once wrote: “walker, there is no path; the path is made by walking.” 

It’s good to remember that when we mess things up, we have a choice.  We can dwell in the past and tie ourselves in knots with the difficult recollection.  Or we can decide to learn from the experience and move forward, perhaps after difficult conversations and hopefully with greater wisdom.   Archbishop Oscar Romero wrote: “There are many things that can only be seen through eyes that have cried.”  And after we have cried, we can pray for strength to create the path by walking forward.

Sarah Bourne, Chaplain for the Arts – 10^th March 2021      sarahbourne@banburystmary.org.uk