Osler's Razor

For my birthday this week, I got a big box in the mail from my brother. I was intrigued by it; it was heavy and rattled a little. I thought it might be some of his famous cookies. I was antsy to open it.

When I did, I found a little collection of things that showed how well he knows me. There was some Sanders' hot fudge, from our childhood (well, not that jar specifically, but the same thing). There was some cherry preserves (I love cherries). There was this thing made of two ingredients: dark chocolate and peanut butter (yes!). There were some beeswax candles that pop a little when you burn them. It was a wonderful box to explore.

Sometimes preachers (even me) will address the congregation as "brothers and sisters," and I think they mean it in the way I just described my brother's gift. It is people who will share with one another from a deep knowledge. At their best churches do that, but the effect is not limited to churches. You find it in all kinds of communities and families, formal and informal.

At some time, we have all received the love of that kind of brother or sister, in ways small and large. It is one of the good things about being human. And it is something I need to think about doing, about being, more often.