Today is Ash Wednesday. Perhaps you've begun to notice passerby's with what seems to be black markings above their brow. I would imagine in this modern day, most would quickly recognize the pattern and the source. In New York, there was a slight delay funny enough. The morning was like any other. People hustling by, filling the coffee shops and trains. As the morning turned into afternoon, I found more and more proudly displaying their signs of faith. The courage of the first to receive ashes, instilling confidence within the flock. The hours passed and the number grew exponentially. Religion for many, I suppose, can carry a shameful stigma and awkward fear of being misinterpreted. At least in this Metropolitan city. How often is religion used to divide and define us? Stereotypes of extremists used to represent the whole, inevitably misconstruing the message. As a result, sadly our world grows more and more politically correct, taking "God" out of our vernacular. I've grown to be in favor of possibly offending, than take the risk of 'hiding' my beliefs.
Although even for someone like myself, so rooted in own sense of religion, I've struggled with finding my faith between the grid of concrete these past two years. Perhaps it is the energy of city, the relentless pace that challenges ones serenity. Quiet moments rarely come, if at all. There's a constant flow of foot traffic, honking of cabs enforcing their right of way, cell phone interruptions and the general determination to survive another day in this pressure cooker. It is in those brief times, when I remember to look up, that I take in the clouds, the heavens, God. Peeking through the slivers of blue sky amongst the concrete giants, I feel the hand reaching. There is forever a tendency toward disconnect, that is so easy to fall prey to here. The summer brings leisurely days in Central Park, which finely tunes that chord between here and above. However the winter, I'm afraid, reminds me just how easily it can be severed if you aren't paying attention.
It was reaffirming to watch the comings and goings of my neighborhood church. Amongst a sea of people, you forget just how many share in your faith. In a time of hardships and economic despair, it is comforting to see so many believers lifting their eyes. Most days, I would never know, until speaking with them about God. And how often does that happen? In a city of millions there is an unfortunate byproduct of feeling oddly alone. As I sat in church, praying for those in my life, I felt the power of people uniting. I felt the calling of their hearts, whether old or new believers. I felt their needs, as much as my own.
No matter how grounded each of us may be, to our beliefs of that which exists above, I think it's a beautiful thing that so many boldly proclaim their love of God today. I am a Christian through and through. While I am taught that only through Jesus are we saved, I truly believe in my heart that God speaks to each of us in our own language. He loves us completely and will lead us, if we are open to follow. I believe with all my heart in Jesus, his teachings, his suffering and from that, our forgiveness of sins. It is the path I was led to, many many years ago. I also believe that only in death, perhaps, will we ever know the answers to all the questions we may have in this world.
In this life we are given our challenges, our joys, our humility, our intellect, our yearning for knowledge, our curiosity and our inner spirit that will forever open our eyes if we allow it.
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