(Ok, disclaimer, I wrote this a while ago,in June, it's taken me this long to put it up...)
This past week something unexpected and incredible happened to me (which I guess unexpected is probably one of the prerequisites for something being incredible). But anyway, so something wonderful happened to me – I fell in love…with New York City.
I’ve heard a variety of things about NYC. I’ve heard about its hustle and bustle, and its excitement and the seemingly endless venues for art and culture. I’ve heard about how the city is dirty and overcrowded and unsafe to be alone in at night. In the excitement of preparing for my trip there I had that little voice of reason in the back of my head that was fretting over whether or not my excitement would be fulfilled or if my anticipation would be slightly disappointed.
Well it turns out my anticipation was more than fulfilled. I loved every part of my trip. I loved the clash of cultures that you find in the Big Apple. To sit in the park and hear one accent after another as people chat, laugh, yell, and peddle, seemed to be the perfect living description of what America is all about. Lady Liberty stands to welcome anyone to come into her harbor to make a new life and here they are, in central park, in the subway station on their way to work, in the deli, living, loving, struggling, to forge a life in the land of freedom.
I loved walking down one street to see Chinese markets and grab a dinner of real Chinese food, though I passed up the ducks hanging in the front window, and then moving on a couple of blocks to get some Canoli in Little Italy. I loved to see the little Chinese women carrying their babies on their backs, and then having Italian men, calling out to passersby to entice them into their cafes for a meal from the Old Country.
I walk a few blocks more and I am surrounded by trendy shops, artful buildings sprinkled with an old church here and there. The wonderful mix of old brick and new metal and glass buildings delight my architectural eye. In those worlds of concrete and structure there is frequently an interruption of green and trees and flowers where children can play and adults sit reading on benches. No one is hiding behind backyard walls, everyone is out together, interacting in this great scene of New York Life.
The Street vendors are frequent with their foods with their delicious scents- hot dogs, roasted nuts, kababs; no street is without a salesman. Each salesman seems bored until you start making a purchase and it seems his countenance gets brighter with each step of transaction. They wish you well as you walk away delighted with your purchase.
I loved seeing parts of my nation’s history- part of my history. It was like I was discovering part of what allows me to be who I am. The great statue stands to tell the world that we are free and open and full of opportunity. Ellis Island was full of stories of the hardships people endured to make a new way for themselves and their families- of sacrifices, dreams, disappointments, and legacies.
I saw the gaping hole of 9/11. I recalled the image seared into my mind of that morning, watching on my television with disbelief and horror what others were simultaneously experiencing when the towers collapsed. Now I saw how the city was moving on, how the land would be healed, the people are healing, and how God has restored so many. I felt anger towards those who would make war against our people- those people I saw in the parks and cafes and on the streets, who believe in freedom and hard work and independence. I felt sorrow for those who’d lost so much when the buildings fell, and I felt pride for those who’d sacrificed so much to help their fellow Americans- to clean up, to rebuild, to replant, to move on and yet to remember.
I experienced the doleful attitudes of those confined to work in booths of all sorts, and the eager helpfulness of strangers on the subways and on the streets. I met people proud of their city and eager to help others experience all it has to offer.
I experienced the vibrant worship of the Brooklyn Tabernacle. The choir rejoiced and the people along with it. The pastor challenged us to give our whole selves to God, not withholding anything, even our most prized possessions or ideas.
New York City is a beautiful place.I hope I will one day return to that great city and continue to explore. But with all it has to offer it is not void of problems- one only has to watch the news or read the paper to learn that. It has its warts and stains and troubles like any other place. Yet at the same time it is like nothing else I've experienced, a great mosaic of color and sound and motion. It is a melding of history with modernity. It is filled with the people of the world that God loves. I pray that New Yorkers would see past their giant city and its charms, surely it has many, and see that there is another city, whose foundations are not man-made; whose splendors will never need refurbishing, whose delights will never disappoint, and more than satisfy for life. I pray that they would know that their laughing, crying, living, and dying takes place under the watch of a Great God who loves them.
