No 4: SALVATION
PHOTO BY JOELLE WILLIAMS
JOELLE WILLIAMS
On a Monday afternoon, I find myself in the seventh row of a cathedral. I grew up protestant, although I don't adopt any particular religion. I choose to believe we’re the ‘Gods’ of our own lives; made to embody empathy, love, and forgiveness to those around us - in doing so, developing a Christ-like character. But my personal beliefs on religion aside, for some reason this afternoon I find myself in a Catholic cathedral.
A man is sleeping in the second row. His hair is knotted and his eyes are tired. I wonder what salvation he seeks. Is this a one-time occurrence or does he scour the city of New York for the most comfortable cathedrals to lay in? He feels familiar. I’m not sure if it’s because we’re sharing this holy place together, but I feel connected to him. We will never speak or know anything of each other's pasts that lead us to this moment, though we are here together. He’s acting as a reflection of me - of us all. This feeling is difficult to put into words. The same Holiness I observe on the Chancel I see in his tired eyes. Now and then, I see his hand reach to grab the top of the pew and the stranger bobs his head up. As if to remind himself where he lays.
An older woman reads the Bible in the back of the Church - or what I thought was a Bible. Turns out Miss was on her phone. I’m tempted to tell her to look up, “Experience the sheer divinity around you!” But she probably already has. I imagine she comes here every Sunday with her grandchildren, memorizing each Mosaic tile and angel statue around her. I’m simply a tourist awing at her familiarity.
A toddler babbles as her mother walks her down the aisle. Her tiny voice echoes in this vastness. She fidgets as her mother makes her devotions. I notice her gibberish is not of my tongue. I believe she and her mother speak in Arabic or Armenian, although my assumptions could be false. Maybe that’s what open cathedrals on a Monday afternoon in New York are meant for: anyone from anywhere can pray to whichever God they worship and seek salvation without fear of judgment or persecution. The room is slightly warmer from when I first walked in.
I feel quite different from when I first walked through the Cathedral doors. Like a question I didn't know I had was answered. Sitting in this seventh-row pew has made me remember we’re all a part of a greater whole; each person a piece in the beautiful puzzle of humanity. We differ from one another, but deep down we’re all searching for similar salvation - deliverance from the turmoil of our daily lives, whatever that turmoil may be. The man sleeping, the woman on her phone, the curious toddler, me. All we have is each other to remind ourselves we’re a part of something bigger.
