St. John the Unfinished

NEW YORK JOURNAL

FROM the choir stalls, the central aisle of the nave of New York’s Cathedral of St. John the Divine stretches out in an endless line, through the throngs of dignitaries and worshippers and past the bays commemorating, among other things, Education, Medicine, and Anglican History. At the nave’s west end stands the great Christmas tree, its tip pointing toward the lesser rose window. From there my eyes come to rest on the great rose window, on Christ in His Majesty. The organ pipes swell with the Invitatory, and voices fill the air with song as the procession of bishop, priests, lay ministers, and choir makes its way through the haze of sweet smoke that fills the vast space of the nave as the thurible swings and the incense burns.

DK

About the Author

Daniel A. Kaufman

NEW YORK JOURNAL

FROM the choir stalls, the central aisle of the nave of New York’s Cathedral of St. John the Divine stretches out in an endless line, through the throngs of dignitaries and worshippers and past the bays commemorating, among other things, Education, Medicine, and Anglican History. At the nave’s west end stands the great Christmas tree, its tip pointing toward the lesser rose window. From there my eyes come to rest on the great rose window, on Christ in His Majesty. The organ pipes swell with the Invitatory, and voices fill the air with song as the procession of bishop, priests, lay ministers, and choir makes its way through the haze of sweet smoke that fills the vast space of the nave as the thurible swings and the incense burns.