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Good morning. Wherever you live around the world, it is now officially Spring. It’s a movable feast, of course, coming in at different times in different places – but by now we have all caught up. There’s a tradition associated with the Spring in Siberia which is called ‘the whispering of the stars’, and it has caught my imagination since the day I first heard it.

In the very coldest parts of Siberia the air is so cold in winter they say that people’s breath freezes as they speak. According to legend their very words freeze there and then, falling to the snow below with a ‘plop’ as they land. The ‘whispering of the stars’ refers to what happens in the Spring. If you walk past the place where the words were spoken just as the Spring comes and the snow melts, the words can be heard all over again. Exclamations, questions and snatches of conversation all come back to life with the warmth of the Spring sunshine. I have to confess that I find the prospect slightly alarming. What if the words I had spoken in the depths of Winter really could come back to haunt me in the warmth of the Spring? What if a throwaway comment or an ill-tempered rant really could be heard again by a stranger passing by? It’s only a legend, of course, but it is a reminder that words, once spoken, have a life of their own. Where they are heard, and how they are heard thereafter are not necessarily in our control. Like cats let out of the proverbial bag, they have a habit of running amok if we don’t choose them carefully.

O God, who spoke the Universe into life, we thank you today for the gift of speech. May our words be wholesome and positive, however long they might be remembered. Amen