Houston Re-visited

No matter what others may say, Houston has become a mighty romantic place to hang out, if you like art and ethnic food.
Check in and stay for a long romantic weekend at the Hotel ZaZa, smack dab in the center of the Museum District and only a few blocks from all things medical in Houston. Newly renovated, I recommend shopping online for one of the ZaZa’s spacious suites overlooking their sparkling Mediterranean-inspired swimming pool. Check for deals on any ZaSpa packages.
Besides the obvious, like Houston’s Museum of Fine Arts directly across the street from the ZaZa, this international city also has an often-overlooked sampling of art created and collected with a spiritual perspective.
For instance, there’s the Byzantine Fresco Chapel, which was created to rescue a set of stolen and ransomed frescoes. By 1992, the city of Houston and the Menil Foundation had teamed up to become the stewards of the frescoes, which forever belong to the Church of Cyprus. The church is reclaiming them, so they will be going home soon.
Don’t miss the Rothko Chapel, an internationally known draw, with its focus on human rights. If you are traveling with traditionalists, prepare them for the minimalist flavor of the chapel, so they can experience quiet with a meditative heart.
“It has become a pilgrimage for thousands of visitors who are drawn by its importance both as an artistic masterpiece and as a gathering place for people of all religious beliefs,” according to Rothko literature.
I recommend a visit to the Annunciation Greek Orthodox Cathedral, only a few blocks from Hotel ZaZa and the Rothko Chapel. If you are there on a Sunday, visitors are welcome to join worship. On other days of the week, priests are gracious and hospitable about informing respectful visitors about the significance of icons in Greek Orthodox tradition.
If you are a bibliophile, stop by the book store while you are at the church for a thorough selection of all things related to icons and icon painting, along with great choices in Greek heritage and the history of Greek immigration to America.
As long as Greek is on the art tour, why not take in cultural cuisine, too?
Choosing one or two items off the extensive menu at Byzantio Café and Bar is impossible. So, meet friends and order a huge spread to try it all.
Every bite is delicious, from the lamb souvlaki to the hummus to the gyros, and especially the tzatziki sauce.
With neighbors and regulars laughing and greeting each other across the restaurant, Byzantio feels like a great big Greek American family reunion.
And since you are having an art holiday, don’t miss the photography on the walls. Personal and expressive, we especially enjoyed the depictions of the local belly dancers who perform at the restaurant every Thursday night.
Belly dancing; a perfect excuse to start a romantic weekend in Houston early.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Son of Man

Why didn’t he refer to himself as the Son of God?
Others called him Son of God, of course, but he called himself the Son of Man.
Why not claim the more impressive title? He deserved it after all.
Everywhere he went, Life sprang out of his words, his touch, his compassion. Just to touch the hem of his garment meant health. Health and Life and Power trailed after him like the followers who recognized and affirmed his Life-giving Nature with their curiosity or their adoration and awe.
Fruitless trees withered under the clarity of his Divine Purpose and Nature.
It makes sense that he would claim the unpretentious title, of course. He would leave room for humans to draw their own conclusions; to exercise their free will to decide who he is.
As I traveled along in my faith, I realized that the real miracle of the scriptures is summarized in the words, “God with us.”
This theme is repeated often by the New Testament writers, people who knew him personally and observed his Nature firsthand. Those guys who were trusted with the “Word of God” and received the gift of speaking in foreign languages instantaneously at Pentacost, recognized that he was the translation of God to humans
Recognizing the Creator’s astonishing Force, meant recognizing the difficulty that humans would have understanding One whose very Nature is Good and All-powerful.
Along the way, I grew to understand that God sought out humans to be his spiritual companions; this One, this Creator; this Force of Nature. His love transcended the limits of the creature who could not comprehend such a limitless Being. He sought us out in our limited perspective, inviting us to experience him in terms we could understand.
When the writers describe Jesus as the one in whom all things exist and have their being, they mean it. They got the message. They watched the “translation” and understood exactly Who they were dealing with. Peter stated “You are the Son of God.”
There it is again. That unclaimed title.
Most recently, I begin to believe that for Jesus, the real miracle was the miracle of existing in the flesh.
For him, to exist as the Creator was his very nature.
On the other hand, to limit that Creative Force, by translating himself into the form of a man and then to live within the confines that are inherent in his created, physical universe, that was the miracle; the true demonstration of his power.
The power of his love, actually.
For him, the real accomplishment, the real miracle, was to be the Son of Man.
No wonder Son of Man was the title he claimed.
Son of Man is also the title that honors the Creator’s Love for us.
The Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http:/checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.

The Gift of Silence

Sunlight poured through the windows of the third floor room in the monastery where twenty novice artists bent over icons, working carefully to apply the paint-like substance made by a master iconographer from red clay, water, and egg yolk. Filling the air were the ancient chants harmonized for centuries by monks in monasteries throughout Europe and the near East.
Silently, prayerfully meditating on God’s own nature, the artists carefully prepared the surface for gold leaf to enliven the halo, designating the central figure as a heavenly-inspired personage.
Purposefully, the artists endeavored to make all of the icons identical so that the message would be preserved accurately.
In fact, the artists left each finished icon unsigned simply because a signature might be a distraction from the symbolism intended to draw the viewers’ attention to, in this case, the mighty warrior-angel who expelled Satan from heaven, Archangel Michael.
The artists worked on hand-crafted wooden boards which were prepared with twenty coats of plaster, sanded smooth between each coat by the nuns of a similar sisterhood.
For hours on end, icon students learned the centuries-old technique as an instrument of devotion; as in the Middle Ages when monks devoted their lives to keeping the gospel message alive by spreading the message via icons and illuminated texts to civilizations that were most often illiterate.
Today, students can gather in a scattering of places around the US for instruction by masters who have been trained by one lone man who brought the process to the US and developed a school in New York after leaving the USSR when that government was committed to destroying all Russian icons. At that time, those who understood the ancient technique, because of their association with the Greek Orthodox Church, were often persecuted.
Now, once a year, the Jesuit Spirituality Center in Grand Coteau, Louisiana, hosts an iconography workshop. For one week, students gather from all over the US to be trained in the ancient art.
The Center is a peaceful place because the Jesuit priests who live there adhere to the principles of St. Ignatius’s spiritual exercises that are best experienced with quantities of silent contemplation.
Jesuit priests prayerfully provide quiet hospitality throughout the year to folks who come for silent retreats. Bells interrupt the silence at regular intervals, announcing meals and daily Mass.
It is impossible to describe my feelings as I began to inscribe the pure white board with the black lines of the icon’s pattern, symbolizing sin’s pattern on the beauty and purity of God’s creation. Amid the silence, each stroke of my brush reminded me again of how grateful I am to belong to Him.
Meditation is a lost art in our culture.
There is something purifying and healing about silence. Awe-inspiring.
This holiday, amid the clatter of the season and as the New Year begins, why not take a few hours to give your soul the gift of silence?
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.