Quirk said the idea of small group communities was fashioned out of the words of the apostle Paul in Corinthians 1, in which he says everyone who comes to the table brings something: a hymn, a dance, a word, a story, a prayer.

"We do them all!" she said, adding that sharing of one's talent is nice, but not mandatory: "Showing up is 90 percent of it."

"It's a mix of nuts and chocolate," said Smith, who attends Central Union Church. "It seemed like the perfect analogy."

Starting with some sacred movement and dance —ÊQuirk is a lifetime member of the Sacred Dance Guild of Hawai'i — last Wednesday's prayer cluster moved on to silent mediation, written words set to multimedia and later, more song and spoken prayers.

Now in its 10th week of meeting with six regulars and some visitors, the new type of gathering showed plenty of sweetness.

"Pulelehua even brought some candy the first few weeks, but realized (she and I) were the only ones eating it," Smith said.

While the small group was smaller last Wednesday (their regular Sufi dancer/song leader was out and Quirk was in Chicago for a conference), the size is supposed to be intimate, though they do open their arms for new members, no matter what denomination — or even faith.

"We pray in the name of Jesus, but if that doesn't bother them ... anyone's welcome," Smith said.

The Rev. Tim Mason leads a prayer cluster at Calvary-by-the-Sea. He became senior pastor in November.

A what?

From the outside, it looks as if they're just talking regularly, on the phone or in person. But don't think they're just shooting the breeze or reciting Bible verses to each other. There's praying going on.

"It's an awful lot of laughter," said Smith, but she added there's another dimension, too: "When you have the creator of the universe listening, you find you are very honest."

Quirk agreed. "For me, (it's) the grounding in my life," she said. "I'm one of those fast movers. I do a million things, but those are the moments where I take a deep breath and get grounded, the sigh I take in my day."

While the Rev. Tim Mason just "came out of the box" and into his job as new senior pastor at Calvary in November, he's settled in nicely with the group. Before the gathering started, Mason said he enjoys the weekly meeting of good folks, some from within and outside the congregation.

"When we do this, it gives me life, prancing and dancing out in front of the ocean," Mason said with a laugh.

Pastor Tim Mason, right, moves in a circle with Ruth Quirk, front, Margie Smith and Tracy Jashinski during their "sacred dance."

Last week, Quirk's mother, Ruth, put a little more "oomph" into her dance than others. Though she uses a cane, she's obviously the most dance-inclined.

"She's been dancing since she was about 5," her daughter said. "She's broken her hip twice ... I thought she was going to be chair dancing."

After the dancing comes 12 minutes of silent prayer and mediation, which a few members spent outside in the ocean breeze. Two surfers passed by, to commune with the elements in their own way.

After that, there was a screening of Smith's story, "Honu's Heart," an original work set to music and presented in multimedia format — "Macintosh as vessel," jokes Mason.

They discussed the message, "Listening is hard, but hearing is so important. / Being heard, really heard, helps us to speak. / And speaking what's in our heart keeps us from drowning in unspoken words."

At the end, the group joined hands under the cross that hangs from the beams of the cathedral-style ceiling. Here, they engage in spontaneous prayer. Pulelehua calls it "popcorn prayer" — "You pray as the spirit moves you. As the heat comes through. (Like popcorn,) the kernels pop when it's their time to pop."

When the last kernel has popped, Mason instructs the group to take all their worries and toss them into an invisible basket in the center of the circle, which they then hoist to the air. The assembled group can go on with their day, revived and spiritually refreshed.

"It's part of my oasis of the week," Smith said.