MSI Press Blog

(Easter 2022 at Old Mission San Juan Bautista ) Excerpt from the beginning chapter of Blest Atheist (a repeat and more from Easter 2017 , never loses its significance...) Siberia on Easter Morning  “ Khristos voskres ” (Christ is risen). One person after another greeted me with these words as I climbed the stairs of the little, wooden church in Akademgorodok, a tiny town at the end of the man-made Ob Sea, bejeweling the Siberian steppe 45 minutes south of the city of Novosibirsk. The intertwining snow-covered birch and kedr (Siberian pine) trees created an illusion of a land of fantasy, made more so in the late evenings by the moon reflecting off the naked silver-white birch bark onto the dark red-brown trunks and evergreen branches of the pines. This was not yet the inhospitable taiga ; it was somewhat south for that, but nonetheless the birch and kedr trees stood closely side-by-side like brothers-in-arms against a hostile white and cold universe.             “ V istinu voskres ” (

About the Book People are often at a loss to find the right words to say in prayer. Whether you're a believer but unchurched or are a devout member of a religion, if you wish to expand your home worship, finding the right words to say to God can be a problematic issue. The prayers in Everybody's Little Book of Everyday Prayers are nonsectarian-suited for Protestants, Jews, and Catholics, as well as unaffiliated deists who believe in God but not in organized religion. They cover a raft of occasions on which individuals or families may wish to say a prayer. If prayer is an integral part of your life, or you would like it to be, you'll find the help you want in Everybody's Little Book of Everyday Prayers. Delightfully illustrated by Zhenya Yanovich of Moscow & Siberia (Russia) and Charlottesvile (VA< USA). Book Endorsement "This book is a keeper. It gets to the heart of our communication with God." Rev. Grant A. Houser, M. Th. Review of the Book

“Khristos voskres” (Christ is risen). One person after another greeted me with these words as I climbed the stairs of the little, wooden church in Akademgorodok, a tiny town at the end of the man-made Ob Sea, bejeweling the Siberian steppe 45 minutes south of the city of Novosibirsk . The intertwining snow-covered birch and kedr (Siberian pine) trees created an illusion of a land of fantasy, made more so in the late evenings by the moon reflecting off the naked silver-white birch bark onto the dark red-brown trunks and evergreen branches of the pines. This was not yet the taiga ; it was somewhat south for that, but nonetheless the birch and kedry stood closely side-by-side like brothers-in-arms against a hostile white and cold universe.             “V istinu voskres” (Truly, He is risen). If my words of response rang hollow, there was a reason. They came from the lips of a bona fide atheist, convinced that religious congregations were at least in part delusional. Certain