Fear Relieved
I have lived in the Union Square area for over twenty years, and even a casual estimate would have me passing by Grace Church thousands of times in that span. Today, ambling up Broadway with time to kill, I stepped inside for the very first time. It was beautiful in the way most old churches are beautiful, but somehow made even more special by the peeling paint and general sense of studied WASPy insouciance which certain Episcopal houses of worship manage better than anyplace else. I looked at the ceiling and the windows and the walls and before I even understood what I was doing I slipped into one of the pews and knelt down and the choir that was rehearsing up at the altar immediately began to sing "Amazing Grace." If it had been a movie this would have been the scene where I broke down and cried and willingly let the Lord in to heal the rent and ruptured part of my heart where there is always sadness. The tears would have streamed down my face and as I sat and sobbed, if only for a moment, I would have felt as if I were no longer alone, as if there were something larger there with me that would take me up into its arms and whisper "It's all right" over and over until I finally found peace and everything suddenly made sense. As it happened, someone fucked up a line at the end of the "bright shining as the sun" verse and the choirmaster stopped the whole thing short and I realized I could probably get up and go home now. Laughing at myself for even thinking these thoughts I inched out of the pew and walked back into the aisle up to the entryway and pushed open the heavy door to the outside, where I was promptly greeted by a crack of thunder and then the deluge, leaving me soaked, disgruntled and newly cognizant of the fact that other people’s religious experiences are much like other people’s dreams: Even when nothing actually happens it doesn’t stop them from telling you about them. Anyway, here’s Bryan Ferry. Thank you for your attention.