Dear Friends,

“Be a good neighbor.” Those were words offered by a physician being interviewed this week about this year’s flu. What does it mean to be a good neighbor?

First and foremost, if you are sick, or feeling sick, stay home if you can. It is ok to miss a Sunday at church if you have any reason to believe that you might be catching the flu or  are capable of spreading it.

When at church, remember that when we exchange the peace of Christ, it is perfectly appropriate to offer signs and gestures without shaking hands. Simply placing your hands in front of you and nodding as you speak words of peace is fine, and will keep cold and flu germs from spreading.

At communion, sipping from the chalice is the healthier option when receiving wine. And, since we understand that Christ is fully present in both the bread and wine, you may choose to refrain from receiving the wine until the flu season has passed. If you choose to refrain, simply cross your arms across your chest after taking the bread. The chalice bearer will still say the words of invitation for the cup, and you may simply respond by saying, “Amen.”

Wash hands often, smile rather than shake hands as needed, and avoid crowds when not feeling well yourself – all are ways of being a good neighbor.  Of course, we should also be checking in on each other as we learn of another’s illness. Finally, if you haven’t yet done so, DO get a flu shot. Although reports indicate it may not be as effective this year in preventing the flu, the data indicate that having the vaccine can lessen the severity of the illness.

Hoping for a relatively flu free season for us all,

Tom

Dear Friends,

I saw the cartoon from The Simpsons on someone’s Facebook page. It showed Homer Simpson reading the local paper. The headline on the front page read, “Today we remember Martin Luther King, Jr.” Beneath it, in a smaller font were the words, “Tomorrow we forget him.”

The cartoon caught the challenge we often face in marking off special times for celebrations and commemorations. We may hear again and again portions of the “I Have a Dream” speech on Martin Luther King’s birthday. How often do we reflect on its meaning or engage in the work of fulfilling it the rest of the year?

The same can be true of our celebrations as a church. We know that the Incarnation of Jesus Christ was not confined to a manger in Bethlehem. But as we pack away the creche figures, do we pack away the meaning of God’s coming to us as well? Easter is not one Sunday in the spring. Indeed, every Sunday liturgy is meant to be a celebration of the resurrection, and all of its implications for us.

Though we may have packed away the baby Jesus, our weekly scripture readings call us to remember, rather than forget. As we did last week, this week we will listen to an account of the adult Jesus coming amongst us and saying,”Follow me.” And so we will follow. And if we do so with eyes, ears, hearts, and minds open,  then we will do more than remember. We will discover how Jesus is calling us in this present day, and in every day to come.

Faithfully,

Tom

Dear Friends,

There is something wondrous about the silence a snowfall brings. I read recently of the reason that sounds are muffled during a snowstorm:

When light, fluffy snow accumulates on the ground, it acts as a sound absorber, dampening sound waves much like commercial sound absorbing products.

“Snow is going to be porous, and typically porous materials such as fibers and foams, and things of that sort, absorb sound pretty well,” said David Herrin, a professor at the University of Kentucky’s College of Engineering who studies acoustics.*

For all of the inconvenience that a heavy snow can bring, it can also bring moments of seeing God’s beauty, and time to contemplate in quiet what our place in the world is meant to be. Quiet is rarer and rarer in our world today, as is the requirement to sit or stand and simply contemplate.

In the psalm we read this past Sunday, we were told by the psalmist that God

…gives snow like wool:
he scatters hoarfrost like ashes.

We know that God does not direct the particular aspects of any weather event. Still, we trust that this is the same God, who the same psalmist declares,

“counts the number of the stars,
and calls them all by their names.”

And God knows our names as well.

I hope that in the midst of shoveling, scraping, and dealing with reconfigured schedules, you can nonetheless take at least a moment today to dwell in the quietness around you. Receive that quiet as a gift from God, in which you may contemplate your place in this beautiful cosmos, and your response to the One who knows you by name.

Faithfully in Christ,

Tom