S: St. Augstine Episcopal Church

A cool little religious home. I visited during the lenten season with Young 'Un and Love of My Life. With Easter approaching much of the service followed high Anglican ritual -- the Bible's procession into the aisles, recitation of common prayers, all that.

Then the Meet and Great, the exchange of Peace. A small combo -- flute, tenor sax, piano -- broke into an African-American spiritual. (This is one of the first racially mixed congregations I have visited in St. Petersburg.) Folks shook hands. Veneers broke down. I felt truly welcomed. We were invited to breakfast.

Young 'Un wasn't hungry so we didn't stay long, but during breakfast, we chatted just a little. An older lady took him outside to see the vegetable garden. She showed us the repairs on the education building, mostly done by the congregants themselves. They didn't have Sunday School this morning. The kids worshiped with everyone else.

On the way out, we asked Young 'Un what he thought of the church. Top of his head was "great"; feet were poor. "To my chin," he said.

I had to agree.

UU of St. Petersburg

In my heart I am a Unitarian. The body of my scholarly work draws from the intellectual traditions of Thomas Jefferson and Thoreau, with a heavy dash of Seneca Falls reform. My partner and I were married in the Unitarian Universalist Church of Philadelphia. The creed suits me.

Visiting any UU congregation always feels like a homecoming -- with the ambivalences of home thereunto. This week it was the UU Church in St. Petersburg, Fl. All the usual hallmarks were there. An elegant, aging sanctuary. Heavy oak timbers and the original plastered festooned with felt tapestry. Bad haircuts. Tolerance and a coffee pot.

Lately my own thoughts on religion have taken a traditional turn.

Let me explain. My spouse and I recently completed adoption of an 8 year old boy. Child came to our house with lots of clothes, toys in various states of repair, and no less than 6 Bibles. Pity must motivate perfect strangers to give orphaned children Bibles. One night, tyke pulled out an illustrated version of Good News and pointed at the pictures, asking me for explanations. He was taken with an illustration of Moses in the bull rushes.

So we have started plowing through Exodus. It all makes perfect spiritual sense. Our child prays to God in Heaven. He holds his palms together, open, in a fundamentalist style. Even if he is guarded about his feelings with us, he does insist that we pray, which for an adoptive parent is terrific. Our prayers amount to indirect communication. An expression of hopes and dreams.

Back to the Unitarian-Universalists. The sermon was the typical stuff: explaining UU beliefs, with the usual emphasis on open-mindedness. Plus a few pot shots on doctrinaire faiths. In short, not what we need at this time.

Invariably I will return to a UU Church. Maybe not in the immediate future, however.