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Year of Sundays

The Official Church of Lilith Fair! Free Radicals for Jesus! Je$us Chri$t is the $ame Yesterday, Today and Forever! Official Church of the Cash Cow

Ever since sound engineer Frank Laico laid down the tracks to Miles Davis’ ‘Round About Midnight in an old Armenian church in 1955, jazz musicians have eagerly sought out echoey old houses of worship to convert into recording studios. As if we need further proof that man is evolving. That must have been the thinking…

When I picked my kids up from their dad’s house on Thursday after work, the first thing out of my seven-year-old son’s mouth was, “Hey Mom, how many days left till we get to go to church again?” Not how many days until we HAVE to go to church, but until we GET to go.…

Somehow I accidentally published a draft of my next post before it was finished! (Kids: don’t drink and write.) I’m editing away and Joel and I will be posting both of our reports soon. Now I feel like I just gave a speech in my underpants.

Sometimes coincidences transpire so fortuitously that they cause you to question your disbelief in God: little events that deliver just what you need, when you need it, neatly packaged as a can of chicken soup for the soul. This Sunday’s trip to the Oregon Buddhist Temple was just one of those occasions. It couldn’t have…

I went into the temple last Sunday knowing next to nothing about Buddhism. I’ve never been to a service and I’m attempting to approach this project with an open mind so I can get a fresh perspective, which mean aside from date, time, location and dress code, I’m not doing much research besides just showing up.…

This Sunday, Amanda, her kids and I dropped by The Grotto, a.k.a. the National Sanctuary of Our Sorrowful Mother. Located on NE Sandy at 85th, it’s a 65-acre sacred oasis plopped into the middle of Portland’s crackerbox-apartment-and-lingerie-parlor district. Inside, however, from the moment the priests and their entourage walked down the chapel’s center aisle holding…

If the AMEZ Church was God from the inside out, The National Sanctuary of Our Sorrowful Mother was God from the outside in. First, let’s ponder that name, shall we? I mean, as if it’s not bad enough that the Catholics have the market on guilt cornered, they have to go and name their gorgeous…

Great church. And it’s fun to say, “Presiding Prelate.”  Try it! James Baldwin, one of my favorite writers – and one of this nation’s best thinkers ever – made a decent living stuffing his books with such pronouncements as: “Love takes off the masks we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live…

I’ll be honest, I had HIGH expectations for this church. I had my mouth watered for audaciously be-feathered hats, jerry curl, purple pin-striped suits and the kind of fire and brimstone that would make my grandmother weep for my poor, deranged soul. I wanted to feel under-dressed and over-analyzed. Of course I got none of…
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