St. Gregory of Nyssa

St. Gregory of Nyssa church in San Francisco is located directly across from the Anchor Steam Brewery in San Francisco. Nadia had suggested that I attend morning prayer at St. Gregory's since I was in town on business anyway ... and as I trudged up the street at 745 AM and spied the simple wood building that is St. Gregory's I almost turned back to the Starbucks and the New York Times that are my more typical morning prayer service. You see, another participant in the prayer service was going to be Sara Miles, author of Take This Bread, about whom I have posted. Sara's book was a big part of my "decision" to jump into the unknown of being a Christian. Meeting a hero is a bit unnerving.

I walked in between the two wide open wooden doors to a huge sanctuary with incense hovering in the air like a ghost, illuminated by the rising sun from across the bay. Sara instantly saw me, called out "Richard!"(bear in mind we'd never met) and gave me a huge hug. It was quite something. So, I was glad I passed up Starbucks for St. Gregory.

The service was simple and beautiful. Incense, bells, singing of psalms and related prayers, moments of contemplation, and welcome. For this is what struck me the most - people who came in late that were new, not regulars or whatever, the parishioners always jumped up to help them find their place in the service at that moment. These visitors (such as myself) were not interruptions to the service so much as exclamation marks - in a sense, they were the reason we were there, so they could find us. Such a welcome is hard to grasp if you don't experience it.

The building itself calls you to worship and believe. When I travel in Europe I always find that no matter where I am on my spiritual journey I am a total believer whenever I walk into a beautiful cathedral. Just like foxholes, there are no atheists in cathedrals. You might be one before you walk in and after you walk out but its not possible inside. That is St. Gregory's. It is much humbler than a cathedral but every bit as wondrous. I have photos that I'll post in another blog.

After service I had a lovely and too short conversation with Lynn Bruer, pastor of Grace Lutheran Church in Santa Barbara, about what the purpose of a church is in the 21st century. She is on a sabbatical until June and pretty much traveling the world. Lucky lady, she.

The big surprise was Sara bestowing upon me the honor of bearing a gift from St. Gregory's to House for All. She told me that she a thurible for me to take back to HFASS. A thurible. "I wish she wouldn't mumble" I thought to myself. "Sorry," I said. "What's a thurible..." trying to make this gurgley word make sense. "A thurible," she said. "Is the censer for incense that hangs on the end of long chains with some bells that we use during service to carry the incense around the church." And she showed me. Every priest at every mass I had ever attended in my childhood had used one of these babies. I always thought of it as sort of a medieval weapon for trashing evil spirits like a mace or something but I guess its more benign than that.

It's in a shopping bag at my feet as I write this. The bag even has some incense stuff that makes lots of smoke but not much smell to bring back to HFASS.

What in the world will airport security think of this tomorrow?

Namaste.

Eucharist, Ignatius and Doubt

"Take note of those who hold heterodox opinions on the grace of Jesus Christ which has come to us, and see how contrary their opinions are to the mind of God. . . . They abstain from the Eucharist and from prayer because they do not confess that the Eucharist is the flesh of our Savior Jesus Christ, flesh which suffered for our sins and which that Father, in his goodness, raised up again. They who deny the gift of God are perishing in their disputes. — Letter to the Smyrnaeans 6:2–7:1 - Ignatius of Antioch

I am not sure at all what I think of the Eucharist.Ignatius certainly had his clear cut view.  

On Ash Wednesday, it is not so clear at all to me.  I cannot remember exactly what Nadia says when she hands me the bread to dip in the wine and eat. Something like "this is the body of Christ that is given for you..." But I know that she is fierce and fully present when she says it in a way that no priest of my catholic upbringing ever did. And she means it in a way that cuts down doubt like a scythe.

I do know that I was honored that Nadia asked Charlotte and I to make the communion bread.  The very bread that would at least be blessed and perhaps does become the very body of Christ in substance.  Perhaps it doesn't matter, though I have a feeling wars figurative and literal have been fought over this point.  

In any case it was good bread.  The recipe is simple and I list it hear in case anyone else has to bake some communion bread and would like it to not taste like the anemic white wafers that are so loved in so many churches.

Dry Ingredients

Blend together the following ingredients and sift them three times:

2 cups whole wheat flour

1 cup unbleached white flour

1 1/4 tsp baking powder

1 1/4 tsp salt

Stir in 4 tsp of vegetable oil and set aside.

Wet Ingredients

Mix together until dissolved:

3/4 cup of water plus 2 Tbsp of very hot water

3 Tbsp honey

3 Tbsp molasses

Add the wet to the dry and mix well.  Dough should be sticky.  But don't actually knead it.  Divide into four balls and flatten each into a 1/4 inch thick disk.

Score the top of each loaf with a cross.

Bake at 350 for 10 minutes. Remove from oven and brush the tops of the loaves with some vegetable oil.  Bake another 5 - 8 minutes.  Cool.  Each loaf serves a bunch.  The original recipe claims 30 but that seems on the high side.

More on this topic later...

Namaste.

Today I Am Thinking About ... Prayer

Today we read Isaiah 40:21-31; 1 Corinthians 9:19-23; and Mark 1:29-39. Nice. The cookie and coffee were nice too.

I always leave bible study elated that I had the chance to discuss this Book with others also searching. But mostly I am amazed by the prayer that our pastor weaves each time from the prayer requests we give her.

I don't understand prayer. I don't know if god does anything with our prayers in the sense that I understand "doing." I am trying to learn. I don't know how to pray but listening to our pastor may be the best lesson. Still, when the pastor's voice fills the basement of the coffee house where we meet, something else fills the room too. something holy. something deeply present.

Listening.

Namaste.

The Church Of Strong Coffee

On Friday morning, I had coffee with Pastor Nadia at St. Mark's Coffee House. The coffee is strong at St. Mark's, and so is Nadia: her intensity, experience, community and her faith make a strong cup of brew! Let's say six shots of espresso...

Why? Well, I wanted to see what it was like to talk with someone I might actually think of as my pastor because a) I haven't ever actually talked to a pastor, and b) I've never thought of thinking of someone as my pastor. I also wanted to find out how her church got to where it is.

One thing she said that I liked very much was that the church grew organically from the needs of the people. Not planted in any intentional way to meet a perceived need. This is no 7-11 planted franchised church experience! It turns out that the HFASS has been meeting in one form or another since January 2008 but has only been having weekly church services since end of November, so at this point: "first visit you're a visitor, second visit you're a charter member," says Nadia. We also talked about the importance of community to christian faith. As Nadia put it: "when your mother dies, your yoga instructor is not going to bring you a casserole."

The best part was a discussion of Truth, and rejection of the idea that we know ourselves what that means in any absolute sense. God knows, we don't. Just because Christianity works for us, doesn't mean that that particular little niche of Christianity over on 5th Avenue is the be all and end all of the search for meaning, love and truth. There may be more than one path - not really up to us to make that call - though it seems likely to me. I got a feeling the Table is a whole lot bigger than many think. Folks might be surprised to see whose breaking bread with who at the end of time. God is bigger than me, my ability to comprehend the universe, and Christianity itself.

No doubt god works in mysterious ways, and me sitting in St. Mark's coffeehouse with Pastor Nadia is proof of that.

Namste.

Thanks to "Out Of Ur" for the perfect graphic.

God Showing Up In Older Women

Ah, you may be noticing from various posts that Pastor Nadia is a rather strong cup of coffee.

If you would like a cup straight from the the pot herself you can read it here: God Showing Up In Older Women.

Be open to blessings!

Namaste.

Tag: Nadia Bolz-Weber

Thinking About ... Last Night

Cell phone picture of St. Mark's Coffee House where the BYOB bible study group for the House For All Sinners and Saints meets every Tuesday at 7 PM. Just thought y'all'd like to see how it looks. The meeting room we use is in the basement.

Some folks are interested why I chose this group, but I still cannot figure out how I stumbled into this church or this study group, and I don't really feel like I chose them. Maybe its like Pastor Nadia told me in an email: "Sometimes God just hunts our ass down and there's nothing we can do about it."

Here's a photo of Pastor Nadia from the all-knowing all-seeing web:

Now, on to bible study. 1 Corinthians 8:1-13 which is all about food sacrificed for idols (no, not Randy, Paula, Simon or that new one, which reminds me they are on tonight). I found it a little confusing but after thinking and discussing I really think it is all about "setting a good example for others" and showing our beliefs by our actions. And perhaps about using knowledge responsibly.

We also read Mark 1:21-28 about Jesus casting out demons and so the conversation naturally turned to Bush leaving DC and Obama arriving. Funny, that.

Namaste.

Tags: Jesus Corinthians Mark Christ Christianity

Today I Am Filled...With Spirit

Charlotte and I drove down to Denver today from our mountain perch in Evergreen. We were doing something new in our marriage - going to church - and no one was dead or getting married. We were just going because the Spirit was calling us to go. Or we were just curious what Pastor Nadia was up to at the House For All Sinners and Saints. Or Spirit and curiosity might be the same thing. Who knows?

We drove around the block a few times just so we wouldn't be too early. BTW, the service started at 4 PM so everyone out late last night had time to recover. Finally when we saw the guy with the conga drum go in, we figured that was our cue. It was gray, cold and snowing as we dashed from car to the main entrance of peeling white paint.

Its an old red brick church from 1902 on the corner of Bannock and 5th. With a stately steeple that has presided over who knows how many Sunday Potlucks in the basement. Now it is mostly used by the local Native American community who are kind enough to let HFASS use it on Sundays.

We enter to incense and a sense of purpose. The photo shows a collage that was created over several Sundays of Advent. In person it is just about life size. It served as the backdrop for the alter (card table) in the midst of circular pews (chairs). The inside is empty of its past - no pews or formal alter or cross or statues. But it might have been the holiest church I've been in. It was filled with purpose and belief. Not just folks going through the routine Sunday abulations, but folks really conspiring to find god.

Readings, singing, prayers, incense, and Eucharist (the Greek noun eukharistia (εὐχαριστία) derives from eu- "well" + kharis "favor, grace". Eukharisteo (εὐχαριστῶ) is the usual verb for "to thank" in the Septuagint and New Testament, see Wikipedia for more}. Charlotte cried. When she prays, she let's it all out.

The sermon was great. About how everything changes with god. change in the world. obama. materialism and being tired of it. Psalms 62:10.

As for me, I didn't cry. I was kind of tense actually. I get tense in new situations. And conspiring to find god, to let god in, to feel well, in favor and with grace, to participate in worship with actual people, these are new situations of a very heightened sort for me.

But I was glad to be there. Glad to be there with Charlotte. Glad to receive communion from Pastor Nadia.

Glad god was still there after all these years, letting me in.

Namaste.

BS Tonight

Just back from BYOB Bible Study at St. Mark's Coffeehouse here in Denver. It tickles me to think about me going to bible study. I get a silly grin on my face.

We read from Jonah 3:1-10 and also from Mark 1:14-19. Much discussion of free will and what a drama queen Jonah was: "...please take my life from me, for it is better for me to die than live." Because God forgave the citizens of Nineveh after Jonah warned them of their impending doom and ... they changed their ways. Turned on a dime and God said, cool, not going to grind you to dust after all. Which obviously, though not very rationally, pissed Jonah off.

What I love about bible study is that it is filled with love, humor and inquisitiveness. With great belief comes with great doubt. And both are allowed to co-exist and co-create in BYOB. A wonder.

Perhaps a picture next week...

And Nadia said a nice prayer for Cassie (aka "creeking girl")and all people who serve people around the world.

Namaste.

Today I Am ... Freaked Out

I noted yesterday that I am now uncool. Today, I am uncooler if that is possible.

Yesterday I went to BIBLE STUDY called BYOB (Bring Your Own Brain)which claims to take the bible seriously but not literally. It is run by Pastor Nadia with the following description from the church website: "House for All Sinners and Saints' is a group of folks figuring out how to be a liturgical, Christo-centric, social justice oriented, queer inclusive, incarnational, contemplative, irreverent, ancient - future church with a progressive but deeply rooted theological imagination."

Nice that.

But its still bible study... I've never studied the bible. I've pooh-poohed it. I've ignored it. I've ridiculed it. I've heard it read in church. Suddenly I feel compelled to read it, study it and, good lord, talk about it with other people. Christo-centric people! We did not talk about religion, Christ, God, let alone our "theological imagination" in the home I grew up in. We did not speak God's name. That was for the priests' to do. On Sunday. Our job was to shut up and listen. On Sunday.

Now I'm listening for god because I want to after forty years, give or take, of searching everywhere but under my bed as I mentioned in my last post.

Taking a deep breath, I went to bible study which is held at St. Mark's coffee house, next door to the Thin Man Bar, carrying my bible as if it were explosives. I'm early. I drink two huge cups of coffee because my hands aren't already shaking enough. Finally, its 7 PM and time for class or group or whatever it is and we go downstairs to the performance area. Stage. Christmas lights strung around. An interesting (as we would say in MN) space.

We proceed to discuss the bible. I mostly listened on the premise that I was already uncool, so no need to be perceived as an idiot to boot. I had to use my table of contents to find the book we are discussing, everyone else just flips it open because they apparently know what order the books of the bible are in. Show-offs.

In particular, we discuss 1 Samuels 3:1 - 10. This is the story where Samuel, as a boy, is helping Eli at the temple and the Lord drops in and calls out to Samuel. I especially like the line here "The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread." Which pretty much sums up my involvement with Christian thought up to that point. Then we read John 1:43 where Jesus calls Phillip and Nathanael. This is the verse that reads: "He found Phillip and said to him, "Follow me."

Follow me?

My first bible study and the verses are about being called by God and being told to follow him.

As I say, I'm freaking out!

Namaste.