Hello. It's late on this sweet smelling, mild Sunday evening. Late for my sermonising, that is, but once again I am compelled to at least say 'Hi'.
On the social network this week I enjoyed the outburst of gratitude from the Americans for their Thanksgiving celebrations. Gratitude, for life itself, is fundamental to mental health, in my view, and Thanksgiving is one of the really endearing components of the American national cult. It's a candidate for a globalised celebration.
This is the last time I'll use the term 'Sabbatical' for my sermons, as I intend to get back to this project in a more focussed way again from next week. But I don't think I'll call them 'Sunday Sermons' either, and nor will I expect too much of myself every week. I will instead continue to blog on a Sunday under individual headlines. Some of my essays might be quite elaborate and sometimes they'll be short and sweet.
There are very many versions of the following song on Youtube, almost all with a variety of the famous 'Zorba the Greek' dance to accompany. Dance away if you wish of course, but I purposely chose this one without any accompanying video because in this case I want to focus on the piece of music. A friend of mine who knows his music calls this a song of survival, and goes so far as to say that the modern Greeks will survive because of their music and because of this song. I don't know about that, but I do feel in this song a restorative; a cry of libidinal hope; a flowering and a celebration of humanity.