Whenever I’m in mid-town Manhattan, I stop in Saint Patrick’s Cathedral. I start on the far left aisle and work my way to the front altar. In the alcoves are saints, if you’re Catholic- and even if you’re not, you know that saints work on behalf of us here on earth. Each saint represents a particular profession or spiritual need and stands at the ready in the next life to help us. Each alcove holds an altar, upon which the saint is featured. There is a prayer if you need it- to appeal to the saint, and you are welcome to light a candle (Saint Patrick’s still has wax candles lit with a match the old-fashioned way.) I have been lighting candles since I was a girl, and often, more than one. I don’t know why, but the simple act of lighting a candle and kneeling to pray centers the weary spirit.
I was having a particularly rough time of it when I stopped in the cathedral. Tourists were moving in silent lines up and down the aisles, looking up at the stained-glass windows. A line moved slowly behind the main altar to emerge on the right aisle (where there are more saints in alcoves.) As I moved up the left aisle, I came upon a family at the side altar. There was an old priest and he began the words of the rite of baptism. The beautiful family, dressed in their Sunday best, were gathered before the baptismal font. I was compelled to join them, so I took a seat in the pews with the family.
My closest friends know that I crash viewings. If I see a sign outside a funeral home, I go in and get on the line to pay my respects to the stranger who has passed. It helps me deal with grief to observe other families deal with it. Sometimes there’s a little humor involved when I’m asked how I know the deceased. I usually say, she or he was a special person and leave it at that.
However, I had never crashed a baptism. This was a first. I took photos because I didn’t want to forget the half circle the family formed at the altar. It was a work of art- and also, shored up my weary spirit to see a family with a common purpose. It went beyond the religious- it was spiritual in its purest form. Belief is not always obvious- and faith can be obscured, but a family with a plan, united and cohesive, is a sacrament in itself. You don’t have to be Catholic to embrace that, you just have to be part of a family and know its’ everlasting value.
