It is a huge danger to pretend that awful things do not happen.
But you need enough hope to keep going. I am trying to make hope.
(Corita Kent)

Dear Mayfield,

For the unknown duration of time when we are scattered so that more of us might stay well and our health care system might be less stressed, my plan is for three weekly communications with you. On Saturday, the Mayfield Memo will have resources for at- home reflection and worship the following day. On Tuesday and Thursday, there will be Web Notes to highlight the connections among us that remain strong even when we are not physically together and to continue to explore the broad theme of hope that is informing our life as a congregation throughout this liturgical year.

Theresa contacted me earlier today to ask about sending an email to the congregation offering help and companionship where any of us might need it.  That was followed by thoughtful replies from Peggy, Jan, Craig, and Diana.  We are there for one another and can sustain each other along all the threads of service and presence on which we are there for others.  Such a good example of homegrown hope for us. Remember you can be in touch.

When I sent out the resources for worship last Sunday, I suggested if you have spoken prayers at home you would like to share across the congregation, email them to me.  Please this week hold in prayer:

• Diana’s brother Chip and her sister-in-law Suzi
• Carolyn’s mother Virginia
• TJ and Sue
• those we know by name and those whose names are not familiar to us who have a condition or vulnerability that could make COVID-19 more serious for them
• nursing home and hospital staffs and those on the front lines of public health around the globe, particular prayers for Pia who is a nurse and hospital administrator and Amanda who is a nurse and public health administrator
• any who are mourning the loss of loved ones in the pandemic
• everyone at the Jane Adeny Memorial School (JAMS); it is expected Kenya is closing schools
• the persistence of the earth in undeniably carrying us toward spring again even as we face great uncertainty
• all who cannot stay home to work or who are facing loss of employment now
• those in the transportation business like Craig who are keeping us supplied with what we need
• food banks that are heading up efforts to increase the availability of food for those who are food insecure
• the many kindnesses, often unacknowledged, that make a difference for all of us

On March 10, 2020, Unitarian Universalist minister and poet Lynn Unger wrote a poem “Pandemic.” I have received it from six different sources in the last week. It was my intention to share it with you in this first web notes’ email when I had only seen it once. May your hope be strengthened by her stunning words.

Pandemic
What if we thought of it
as the Jews consider the Sabbath –
the most sacred of times?
Cease from travel.
Cease from buying and selling.
Give up, just for now,
on trying to make the world
different than it is.
Sing, Pray. Touch only those
to whom you commit your life.
Center down.

And when your body has become still,
reach out with your heart.
Know that we are connected
in ways that are terrifying and beautiful.
(You could hardly deny it now.)
Know that our lives
are in one another’s hands.
Reach out your heart.
Reach out your words.
Reach out all the tendrils
of compassion that move, invisibly,
where we cannot touch.

Promise this world your love –
for better or for worse,
in sickness and in health,
as long as we all shall live.

Speaking of Sabbath, our congregational retreat, “Seeing With Sabbath Eyes,” scheduled for Saturday, March 28 has been postponed. Right now, we have tentatively rescheduled it for Saturday, May 30 at Russell Woods. That is not the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend.

In hope and with peace and gratitude for the web that embraces us all,
Martha