Garden of Hope for the U.N.

Located on 47^th street between 1^st and 2^nd avenue, almost secluded from the hustle of the big city is Saint Mary’s Garden of Holy Family Roman Catholic Church. Appearing protected by the great walls of the church, this breath-taking garden offers peace and tranquility to anyone seeking a moment. Walking through the gates of this garden almost feels as if you’re passing through to another realm, offering the wonderful architecture of the bridge along with two pools of water on each side. This bridge leads to the focal point of the garden, a statue of the Saint Mary almost hovering above anyone who walks up to it. The aluminum statue provides a sense of hope for those who enter the garden.

The church as well as the garden was built on a stable and was dedicated in 1965 to the needs of the United Nations community and Turtle bay Parish. The statue of the Virgin Mary was cast in Italy. Although this garden is unique because of its urban setting, Mary Gardens are very common throughout the world. Often starting as Parishes planting symbolic flowers eventually growing into gorgeous gardens. There is no particular guideline to adhere to when creating a Mary garden, but all serve the same purpose, create a place for peace and tranquility for one to pray.  

While researching information on Mary garden I could help but feel the creation of these gardens related to Henry Beecher, author of “Religion and the Beautiful”. Beecher spoke on how people were afraid to spend money on beautiful things because they were afraid spending on non-necessity was sinful. These gardens are not a necessity, but provide a beauty that shows God in the garden itself because these gardens are symbolic for life and life is within God. 

After spending some time in the garden of Mary you really do leave feeling a sense of hope and at peace. I am not the most religious individual, but I can see how these places, as uncomplicated as they are provide hope. Perhaps what I like the most about the garden is it does not exclude people from it because its entrance is located on the street. I feel as though the garden welcomes anyone to take part in the peace, which reflects on the church as a whole. Overall I found this adventure through New York to find a religious piece to be a personal experience because I had to select one that stood out to me.

Columbia

In the United States, there is no other city besides New York that offers such a wide variety of monuments, statues, and landmarks that embody American Exceptionalism. From the Empire State Building to the Statue of Liberty, American Exceptionalism is strongly embodied in New York’s skyline and architecture. One statue and monument that is not usually recognized as one of New York’s significant landmarks, is the statue of Columbia on top of the USS Maine National Monument, located near Columbus Circle. Columbia was once a widely known figure in the United States who was essentially the female personification of America. Since the early 20^th Century however, Columbia has been replaced by the Statue of Liberty as the United States’ most well-known female personification. Despite this, Columbia is still an important symbol for American Exceptionalism.

            Atop a colossal pylon, a bronze gilded statue of Columbia and three hippocampi—legendary creatures which are half horse and half fish—keep watch over Columbus Circle and all who enter Central Park. Historically, this monument was created in honor of those who died aboard the USS Maine in 1898 after the ship’s sinking in Havana, Cuba. However, the statue of Columbia in this monument, is entirely capable of holding a different meaning. Personally, I connect this statue of Columbia with Henry Ward Beecher’s writings on beauty and religion. Beecher wrote that God created beauty for a reason, and that reason is so that we, as humans, can relish in the beauty of the world. Columbia appears as a goddess in this statue and sunlight glares off her golden armor. It is a bright and shining statue and is a strong contrast to the grey buildings and green trees that surround it. In terms of American Exceptionalism, this can be explained in terms of Beecher’s view by seeing Columbia’s beauty as divinely given to us and placed in the United States, a country full of natural beauty, such as the trees in Central Park, as well as manmade beauty like the architectural wonders of New York City.

            Although Columbia may be a somewhat forgotten American icon, she still represents values that are essential to the American narrative such as freedom, liberty, and justice. These values are essential to the idea of American Exceptionalism but they can also be seen as values which are essential to American religion and religious freedom. In his book Peace of Mind, Rabbi Joshua Liebman writes that the United States could potentially become a nation composed of religious freedom and acceptance if it were to follow a harmonial tradition of religion. By this, he means a tradition of healthy minded and spiritually healthy people. The spirit of Columbia offers this to the United States through her representations of freedom, liberty, and justice. These ideals of an American icon of the past are not forgotten and continue to shine as bright today as they did when this statue of Columbia was first erected. 

The Calling Chimes of Community

The day after I moved to New York, two years ago, I was instantly overwhelmed by the buildings, the compact, concrete jungle, and the massive amounts of people. Coming from a small town in Idaho, I had never encountered anything like the Big Apple, let alone dreamed of a world that was as fast paced and demanding as that of Manhattan. Taken aback by the overbearing presence of the city, I began looking for places, objects, and even smells that could remind me of home. While venturing along 2nd avenue, for at that time I lived on the East side, I came across the Roosevelt Island tram. Curiosity then set in. What was Roosevelt Island? How come I had never heard of it? Was it another borough? One thing led to another, and I found myself sandwiched between thirty other people in a bright, shiny, red cable car that was taking me across the East River. Five minutes later, I was standing on the edge of Roosevelt Island looking across the water at the enormous city that I would call my new home for the next four years.

There was something about Roosevelt Island that intrigued me. Maybe it was the fact that hardly any people were there, or maybe it was because I was not haunted by the sounds of sirens or honking car horns. The thing that I loved the most was the fact that I could see the sky. The fact that I could look ahead and see trees, animals, and land that was not obstructed by daunting skyscrapers granted me a sense of calmness and tranquility. I had found my place of refuge. From that day forward, whenever life got bogged down by high expectations or social obligations, work, or school, I could temporarily escape the confinement of New York City, and retreat to a place that would allow me to unwind, relax, and give me the chance to take a breathe of fresh air. To this day, Roosevelt Island has remained my favorite place in New York.

After two years of exploring the small community of Roosevelt Island, I have become familiar with the buildings, the businesses, and even the people. However, it wasn't until recently that I became educated with the town's history. It is this history that makes Roosevelt Island what it is today. The history unites old and new traditions, tying together treasures from the past to the progressions of today. This history can be represented by an object that sits within the middle of the island. It is an object that I have passed by many times without taking a second glance at. This object, this representation of community, this religious artifact is the old, bronze bell that once sat high in the tower of The Chapel of the Good Shepherd.

This bell holds a lot of history, depicting the lives of those who once lived on the island, as well as the lives of those who currently reside there. The build, the placement, and its purpose provides a religious presence that encapsulates past and present times of acceptance, community, and refuge.
It was cast in 1888 by the Meneely Bell Foundry in Troy, New York. The birthplace and the composition of this particular bell holds substantial significance for its placement and use. Being made of bronze, the sound it produced was heard from anywhere on the island. When it chimed, people were called together to unite and worship. The bronze also symbolizes not only the strength of the bell, but also the strength of the community. Even after a century of being exposed to the changing times and the outdoor elements, the bell still remains strong without any cracks. The same can be said for the community, especially the religious community, of Roosevelt Island. The fact that it was made in New York can also symbolize the importance of local community.

In 1889, when the bell was placed in the tower at The Chapel of The Good Shepherd, the island was used as a holding place for those considered "undesirable" or extremely sick. It was home of the insane asylum, the prison, and a hospital. The mentally disabled, the criminals, those inflicted with small pox, and the extremely poor found themselves relocated to Roosevelt Island. Although they were segregated from the city, these people found solidarity and purpose within the halls of the chapel. While many could not physically go to Sunday worship, they all could hear the chiming of the bell when it rang. That chiming called together the community. It brought people from all walks of life together with one common purpose. Unity. This island, originally a place for outcasts, became a residential refuge where people could take a breathe, relax, and focus on getting the help they needed. The bell created a tune that symbolized hope, acceptance, and potential for all those who heard it's chime.

Nowadays, the bell sits on a solid block of concrete within the church's outdoor plaza. Although the bell tower no longer exists, and the chiming has stopped, people still walk past its bronze shell and are reminded of the solidarity among diverse people that it represents. It sits in the middle of the island, outside the chapel, strong and sturdy, bringing together people of all faiths to come and be united in one place. The Chapel of the Good Shepherd is now used by Catholic, Episcopalian, and other nondenominational religions to hold services to unite the community. The bronze bell, stationary and stoic, serves as a religious artifact that brings people from all different backgrounds together. What it once did so many years ago, it is still doing today. The sound and sight of the bell represents refuge and acceptance, and with my experience on Roosevelt Island I can vouch for those. When I escape to the island, I am not an outsider, but rather a friend that has come back for a visit to be accepted in a place where differences, ailments, and conditions are not looked down upon, but instead, encouraged and embraced with open arms.

The Object of Sentiments

I’ve seen them before, but never bothered to investigate their presence. Honestly, it didn’t even cross my mind they could be religious. On many doorways into homes, a very small container (sometimes placed vertically, sometimes tilted towards the door) is affixed to the frame at shoulder height. Generally nondescript, I had honestly assumed it was a doorbell without taking a second glance. That is, until I saw it at an office, outside of its usual context. My roommate works in the Textile Building on 5th Avenue, and at my last visit I noticed this ‘doorbell’ where there shouldn’t have been one. As it turns out, it’s actually a Jewish Mezuzah. According to my Jewish friend, it’s quite common, even for the most casual practitioner of Judaism, to adhere to this mitzvah, or holy commandment, of Mezuzah.

This particular mezuzah is colored to match the wall it is placed on. I imagine in the workplace it’s less accepted to be blatantly affiliated with one religion or another (with exception to companies that build it into their business), so it makes sense that one would avoid a more decorative ornament. In fact, its simplicity is calming and its construction appears sturdy. These traits, stability and tranquility, are traits often sought in a religion. While minimal, the mezuzah is located about at eye level, and is plainly visible to anyone passing through the doors. This serves as a constant reminder of God’s presence and protection for Jews in this workspace, as well as a declaration of faith to the outside world and those with alternative views. This duality of both commitment and declaration is present in many religious objects, such as the hijab for Islamic women, or the clerical collar for Christian priests.

Reinhold Niebuhr highlights a particularly interesting point regarding objects and obligations of faith. He identifies the difficulties in comprehending an abstraction and suggests that a concrete object or representation may be of use in guiding one’s loyalties, particularly to a specific person/deity. In ‘Moral Man and Immoral Society’, he uses the example of a king as representative of a nation as one might use a mezuzah as representative of God and his presence. “The king is a useful symbol for the nation because it is easier for the simple imagination to conceive a sense of loyalty toward him than toward the nation. The nation is an abstraction which cannot be grasped if fitting symbols are not supplied.” (Niebuhr 54)

This kind of representation of direct connection to, and attention from, God, I would argue, is exactly counter to the God of Joshua Liebman, as detailed in ‘Peace of Mind’. Perhaps this is the old idea of God he references. The mezuzah does not seem to include a Power that relies on us to channel good into the world, but rather, it brings about images of the big guy in the sky watching over us. Simply as a portrayal of his presence, it serves as more of a reminder that the power in his hands and renders us entirely dependent.

William James also touches on the topic of religious objects in ‘The Varieties of Religious Experience’, when he attributes ‘religious sentiment’ to the objects these feelings are directed towards. He even goes so far as to suggest that these mental states do not exist at all without an object, “...the moment we are willing to treat the term ‘religious sentiment’ as a collective name for the many sentiments which religious objects may arouse in alternation, we see that it probably contains nothing whatever of a psychologically specific nature...there is no ground for assuming a simple abstract ‘religious emotion’ to exist as a distinct elementary mental affection by itself, present in every religious experience without exception.” (James 27-28) The implication here is that religious objects are key to connection with one’s faith or with a higher power, and this is why the mezuzah becomes important for Jews to integrate into their everyday lives.  

Walking Past the Present.

                      A person could spend a lot of time in their neighborhood and not notice anything really about it. The great thing about growing up in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn is that it is a walking neighborhood. You can walk to the shops on 86st. You can walk to the grocery store, you can walk to the subway or bus stop. But the best part is walking through the residential streets and admiring the beautiful houses from afar. And so, I spent a lifetime of walking the streets of this neighborhoods. Bensonhurst is known as a predominately Italian-American neighborhood, though there are changes to the neighborhood, it is still keeping its pride strong. 

                        As I was walking along 20th avenue one day, I noticed something that I passed probably a thousand times before; this statue of St.Mary enclosed within a little house in the yard of someone. I stopped and looked at it for a while and moved on merry way. As I was walking back to my own home, I noticed something about the houses along my block, One or two had statues of St. Mary, one or two had a statue of a Saint I did not recognize. This was peculiar to me because throughout my childhood, almost every house on the block had a statue of St. Mary or Padre Pio or St.Dominic, or Jesus (excluding the winter time Nativity scenes). Seeing the statue of St. Mary above triggered this childhood memory of walking past each house with my mom and waving hello to these statues, they were always there... and now they are almost gone.  

                       America was founded on the idea of freedom. Freedom of speech, press, and religion. Catholicism was at one point the minority religion, especially in a country whom the majority were of the Protestant faith. Irish and Italian immigrants were also at one point the minority in America, discriminated against for many reasons, one being their catholic faith. Bensonhurst has seen a lot of changes over the years: families have come and gone and with them, the statues. Why did these families place these statues in their yards? The two most obvious answers are to show their faith to the world and/or protection. For generations (possibly forever) people have prayed for protection, a little help over here, a little help over there, so it is logical to pray to the Saints to protect my home, my belonging, and everything and everyone that I hold so dear to me. 

                        However, is it possible to say that the families who don't have a statue of a saint in their homes aren't Catholic?  Are these families more or less religious by having these statues or not having these statues? Should we question how openly people showcase their faith? Does it matter if the way they showcase their faith is aesthetically pleasing? It is so easy to overlook these statues, walk right past them, and not think anything of them. But how did these statues go from a presence everywhere to just one or two on one block? Why do we not criticize theses families who choose to openly showcase their faith in this way?

                      Reading through Engaged Surrender brought a new awareness to me about religion and our preconceptions and our ideas/awareness about religion. The best example is the hijab. It is an open way of showcasing a person's faith, and many times these women who wear their hijab are criticized for wearing it. However, To each individual person, wearing the hijab means something different-- it is a type of freedom that there faith provides the. At one point, probably in the distant past, these new immigrant families (of Bensonhurst) were probably criticized for placing a statue of Saint in front of their homes. It brings to light that at one and at some points, we were all in the same boat, and it is important to keep an open mind about how we see and interact with others in the world. 

                       If you are ever in Bensonhurst, walk down the residential streets. Some of the statues are elegantly protected like the one of St. Mary in the picture. Others show the wear and tear of being exposed to the outside elements, warriors of protection. There's not a lot of them anymore, but every other block or so should surprise you. It's so easy to ignore our past, rush through the present, and race towards the future-- it's good to know one or two statues will stick around for the ride.