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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…
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