A matter of faith

A month ago, while still in Ashland, I woke up at 3 a.m., dragged my laptop into bed, and googled Unity chuches on California's central coast. No dream, no nothing. Just seemed like a good idea to google churches in the middle of the night. There was one in Santa Barbara that caught my attention.

I sent The Rev. Linda Spencer an email saying I'd written a little story about peace and wondered if she'd like me to read it at her church when I was in the area on a book tour. I then turned off the computer and went back to sleep.

That same day I received a response. "Something in me tells me that something in you is doing remarkable work," she wrote, "and it will be an honor to support you in this way."

"Something in me tells me..." was Missed Clue #1 of wonderment at work. Well, wonderment may not be the right word. Providence maybe. Divine Providence. Bolt-from-the-blue-knock-'em-flatout-silly Extreme Divine Providence.

The night before I arrived in Santa Barbara, I got an email from Linda saying they hadn't been able to get copies of the Grandmother book to sell after the service. She hoped I had some. No problem. I had 12 copies of my own, which I was sure would be plenty. And I had a hundred copies that Viking donated for me to give to peace groups. In a pinch, I could always sell one or two of those and replace them later.

Linda had arranged for me to stay at the home of her board president who would be out of town for the weekend. Staying with me would be the church's music director and her partner. Missed Clue #2.

I don't know what your image of a church music director is, but bet it's not a young, exotic-looking Greek woman named Stefana who sort of hip-hops hymns while dancing with a tambourine -- and who, when she's not directing music or recording CDs, is art therapist at an institution for the severely, criminally mentally ill.

And I'll bet your image of the partner of an exotic Greek tamourine-playing church music director is not a serene black woman who teaches substance-abuse issues to inmates at a jail for women in Watts.

I was enthralled. We went to dinner at a restaurant called Epiphany. Of course!!! We talked for the several hours it took to get our food and the check (Bill Mahar was performing at a theater next door and the restaurant was full of show-goers.)

It was then I found out that the minister had not read the Grandmother book, had not even seen the book, didn't know anything about it at all, or anything about me. She was letting a stranger read godknowswhat at two services because "Something tells me..." I was astounded. And frightened for her. And for me! What if she hated the story?!?

The only thing I could think to do was read the book to Stefana and Barbara and hope they'd warn Linda (and me!) if it seemed not a good fit for the church.

Instead, at 7:30 the next morning, Stefana phoned Linda and said something else. I'm still not clear what. And Linda decided to throw away her sermon and devote the entire lesson time at both services to the story. And the story behind the story.

It was utterly and unbelievably courageous! She cried through the reading at the first service, and the whole on-stage dialogue afterwards. An assistant finally had to bring her a box of Kleenex. There were standing ovations! I swear!!! Like six of them.

When it was over there was this stampede to the book table to buy my 12 books. Bedlam and mayhem ensued. Barbara (Stefana's partner) was handling book sales. "We need more books," she said, the second I got to the table. "Now. Get more books." Remember, she works at a women's jail.

I ran to the car and got 24 of the Viking books. Five minutes later I ran back and got 24 more. Checks were flying and I was signing as fast as I could.

The second service was much like the first. We went through another 50 books and I bet we could have sold twice that. (I now have no books and eight appearances scheduled in the next two weeks!) But what do you bet it all works out?

By the way, remember when I started on this pilgrimage I said I wanted to read the book in schools and churches and libraries and senior centers and on reservations and in prisons? I have so far read in everywhere but prisons. Barbara is in charge of bringing in speakers at the women's jail in Watts. She invited me to read there. Thank you God.