Dear Friends, Someday I’ll write an essay to explore why I like shoveling snow. It will go something like this:
Dear Friends – January 28, 2013
Dear Friends Stanley Kunitz begins his poem, The Layers: I have walked through many lives, some of them my own and I am not who I was, though some principle of being abides, from which I struggle not to stray.
Dear Friends – January 14, 2013
Dear Friends, Carolyn Lavender was the first person from the congregation with whom I had contact. She wrote to me on behalf of the Ministerial Search Committee in September 1983, asking if I would be interested in talking to the committee. I wasn’t.
Dear Friends – January 1, 2013
Dear Friends, In the off chance that you haven’t noticed, the calendar changed from ’12 to ’13.
Dear Friends – December 17, 2012
Dear Friends – December 3, 2012
Dear Friends, In his new book about Jesus, Pope Benedict XVI looks at the early life of Jesus – and, as one reviewer said, he “…debunks several myths about how the Nativity unfolded.”
Dear Friends – November 16, 2012
Dear Friends, In the days following Sandy I walked along Compo Beach, on Soundview Road, watching the sand-shoveling activity as homeowners and those they hired to help started the clean-up. The storm was appropriately named! Sand was piled in front yards and invaded lots of homes.
Dear Friends – October 21, 2012
Dear Friends, We call it ‘the Boston trip.’ Every year I take the Coming of Age class on a pilgrimage to sacred Unitarian shrines. On a few occasions I’ve taken adult groups, which I did last Friday and Saturday. There were 55 of us – as many as a big bus could carry.
Dear Friends – October 08, 2012
Dear Friends, Do some folks still collect photos and put them in an album, the way we used to? My guess is that most photographs never get printed – they get stored, electronically, in cell phones, digital cameras and iPads.
Dear Friends – September 24, 2012
Dear Friends, In 1984, from March 25 to April 1, I came to Westport as a candidate for the position of senior minister. It was an intense time. I had reservations about coming to Westport – in part, because I didn’t want to leave Attleboro, and in part because it would take me away from […]
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