Dear First Parishers,
Christmas is generally my favorite time of the year, both in terms of church and family. I love the traditions and special services. Early in December, I began to look through readings for the lessons and carols service. I trawled through cookie recipes and had grand plans for my kitchen to be full of old and new favorites. I bought sprinkles, icing and gift bags. Sam arrived for a two week stay, the longest we have had him home in a long time. He and Henry went out and got a tree which we put up in the living room. I finished my shopping early and had all the gifts in my closet ready to wrap.
Then, just a week before Christmas, I got the flu.
I have not been sick like this for a long time. And certainly not on Christmas. Ministers are not allowed! I am used to relying on a kind of professional adrenaline when I am not at my best and I thought if I stayed in bed for a day or two, then I could power through Christmas Eve. Unfortunately, it knocked me back more than I anticipated.
No one, including the minister, is irreplaceable. One of the gifts of belonging to a community like First Parish is witnessing how people step up and take care of one another and our congregation, ensuring that our ministries continue. Dolores, the Worship Committee and the Pastoral Care Team seamlessly took on my responsibilities for the Solstice Service on December 21. Dolores also stepped in for my responsibilities last minute for the 5pm Christmas Eve service, after taking one look at me and sending me to sit in my office so I could save my energy for the 7pm service.
Meanwhile, Brian Snow, combining his gifts of time and talent with those from the choirs and musicians in our church (with a guest conductor appearance by Kevin Snow, straight from Ireland!) provided lovely music for our services. This year, we chose familiar anthems for Christmas Eve, trusting in what we know to be tried and true rather than reaching for complicated musical extravaganzas. The result was a beautiful Lessons and Carols service that brought out the contemplative character of the ancient Christmas story.
My family’s Christmas gathering was also simpler and quieter than planned. While we managed to put the lights on our tree, we never got around to the rest of the ornaments. It was still beautiful—the simplicity of the lights contrasting with the darkness of the night. As we didn’t want to share our germs, we delivered a pancake brunch to my parents for their Christmas before returning home to eat our own. A pile of haphazardly wrapped presents appeared under the tree at the last minute, which we opened to each other’s delight. Then we watched A Muppets’ Christmas Carol, a tradition we began when Sam was still a toddler, before Henry was born. Once again, Tiny Tim, who did not die, blessed us all and the true meaning of Christmas was revealed, despite the disappointing lack of cookies.
May 2026 bring more hope, more joy, more peace, more love to our country and our world than we witnessed in 2025.
In faith,
Rev. Ellen