During the Christmas holidays I had two interesting experiences in Manhattan. The first happened during a visit to St. Patrick’s Cathedral, the second during a trip to the new Whitney Museum.
As readers may know, the cathedral recently underwent a thorough renovation, both inside and out, which took about two years. The job was well done. The cathedral is more beautiful than ever.
Classic Renovation
The day I visited, the cathedral was mobbed. My guess is that a few thousand people were there. Some were lighting candles, some were pausing and perhaps praying at some of the side altars, some were visiting the chapel at which the Blessed Sacrament is kept. I have no idea how many of the people were believers and how many were merely curious to see how the renovation went. Of course, there is no way that I can know but my suspicion is that most were believers. Many comported themselves as though a visit to the cathedral was a religious act.
When I knelt before the Blessed Sacrament next to a close friend who had days before asked me to pray for someone experiencing a terrible temptation, without speaking to one another, I knew we were praying for the same person. The atmosphere in the cathedral and the proximity of my friend seemed to make the prayer special. Though it was an easy prayer to say, I was aware of its importance.
Viewing the candles, the many crucifixes, the altars, each honoring a different saint and the crowds of people, a scene from an Ernest Hemingway novel came to mind. The novel was “The Sun Also Rises.” My recollection of the scene is that the main character, Jake Barnes, who I don’t think was a Catholic, visits a church in Spain and is impressed by all the religious symbols and signs of peoples’ faith. He thinks to himself: “What a great religion!”
That was how I felt at the cathedral. Everything in the cathedral that I observed that day, including the people who were at St. Pat’s, spoke to me of faith. I said to my companions, “This experience should make us feel glad that we are Catholics.”
Modern Art
About 20 minutes across town, the new Whitney Museum is at 99 Gansevoort Street, Lower Manhattan. The first floor that my friends and I visited was the top floor, the eighth. There was an exhibit titled “Archibald Motley: Jazz Age Modernist,” which ran through mid-January. I had never heard of Motley but I was impressed by his work. No art connoisseur, I usually rely on tours or audio guides when I visit a museum. This visit I had neither, but I thought Motley’s works were exceptionally good. The following is from the museum guide:
“This is the first full-scale survey in two decades of the paintings of Archibald Motley, one of the most important Harlem Renaissance figures, who is best known as both a master colorist and radical interpreter of urban culture. The exhibition examines Motley’s dynamic depictions of modern life in his hometown, Chicago, as well as in Paris and Mexico, highlighting the artist’s unique use of both expressionism and social realism.”
Several of Motley’s paintings were so good that I wondered why I had never seen any of his works in other museums in the city. What especially appealed to me about Motley’s work was how he used art to oppose racial prejudice, to underline the equality of all races.
The other floors of the museum that I visited had modern art which is a mystery to me. However, I knew that in much of the work the artists were trying to say something about what it means to be human and what the meaning of contemporary life is.
At one point, my friends and I stepped out on a balcony and experienced this wonderful view of the city. I had a feeling analogous to the feeling I had at St. Patrick’s. Thinking of all the cultural experiences that are available in Manhattan, I said to my friends, “What a great city!”
Timeless Connection
Later, reflecting on the two experiences, the feeling at the Cathedral and the feeling at the museum, I think I saw in a new way how God has tied us all together. We are radically dependent on God and on one another. This seems so obvious to me as I think about all the artists trying to make some significant statement about human life, and everything the cathedral represents and the people praying there and especially praying next to my friend. I have absolutely no doubt that all those prayers will be answered.
Hemingway’s character was right when he thought Catholicism is a great religion, and James Joyce was right when he wrote that Catholicism means “here comes everybody!”
Father Robert Lauder is a philosophy professor at St. John’s University, Jamaica, and author of “Pope Francis’ Spirituality and Our Story” (Resurrection Press).
