Continued from Part I, The Story of Grace.
By the time we got to Grace Cathedral we were electrified with excitement. This was the place Kathleen McGowan had talked about in her book The Source of Miracles. This is the place I had been led to in my wanderings in San Francisco, during the Attitudinal Healing International conference, based on the channelled teachings of Christ in A Course in Miracles.
And I was ready for more miracles…
Grace Cathedral, San Francisco, California.
We entered the Cathedral and experienced the requisite hush of authentically divine places. I could see the labyrinth on the stone floor clearly, just as I had expected, with a small altar in the centre where a female directress with red hair was standing lighting a candle and preparing the offering table for communion.
Labyrinths were known for their mystical and meditative properties, as an ancient tool to walk the path to God or enlightenment (the rose centre, based on the labyrinth at Chartres Cathedral in France). We stood alongside the edge and waited patiently as she spoke in warm, resonate tones to welcome us.
Angelic music filled the air as Paul nudged me “there is an angel behind us.” I turned and noticed a young woman seated at a grand piano singing while violinists accompanied her with bows gently strumming in sacred harmonies. We took our seats at the front of the church, and listened to a sermon given by the new minister, Justin, who had arrived just weeks ago from England.
The sermon, ironically but not, was the story of Grace (Mathew 20:1-16), about the workers in the vineyard who were hired to work for a day’s wages; some who came first were paid the same amount as those who arrived last, and complained to the master. But the master’s decision to be generous was not about the worker’s judgement, but his.
The lesson was that God as the master gives fairly and abundantly to all those who seek him. We do not have to suffer and toil to earn his grace. Not to be confused with material compensation, it is receiving more than you thought you were due, which could be the strength or motivation to go on, a friend calling when you least expected it, an unexpected opportunity or blessing bestowed. For me, it was this moment, the signs I was looking for to teach me I was on the right path.
Then I suddenly remembered… The word came into my consciousness and I nudged Linda and Paul and whispered urgently:
“Do you remember the baby at the conference?…. (they nodded). Grace… And Scott who sang the songs? (Yes…) Scott Grace.” Then Linda looked puzzled and reminded me of her Aunt who died and visited her in spirit: “Grace! And now here we are at this magnificent Cathedral known as… Grace.”
We all looked at each other in amazement.
After the service and communion we stood at the labyrinth and waited to enter. The directress then approached me and extended her hand and said, “Don’t I know you?”
I could not think how I could know her, but she reminded me of Kathleen’s book, The Source of Miracles and her Book of Love featuring Mary Magdalene, and the line of holy women with red hair. I smiled and said with a hint of possibility, “Maybe…”
Then I told her about our story of Grace, and how we came to be there. She shook her head in awe and asked us more about what we do and why we came. When we were finished talking, she invited us to walk the labyrinth, and hoped to see us again.
It was getting late and we were the last to walk the labyrinth. The caretaker was growing anxious as we winded the ancient pathways to the centre of the rose. I stood at the rose and prayed. Each pedal a different line of the Lord’s Prayer. Paul extended his arms like wings as we found his way out and back to the beginning. I did not quite finish my walk and was asked to continue outside at the outdoor labyrinth. Not bothered, we left and thanked him with kindness and left a token of our appreciation.
The outdoor labyrinth and a view of the street, cars still rushing by, and a great hotel. I closed my eyes and enjoyed my last moments of the walk and thanked God for everything I had received. For moments of Grace, and hope for the future.
Paul asked, “Well, what could possibly top this?!”
Then we spotted the tall elegant InterContinental Mark Hopkins hotel Paul had entered earlier that day, the highest point in San Francisco. We decided, as we stood gleaming at each other, holding hands, to take the next step on our adventure and go, as Paul pronounced:
“To the Top of the Mark!”
I had no idea what other unexplained miracles of healing and joy would await us there and when I would arrive home, as we continue our journey in the conclusion of: