Thursday, September 24, 2015

Dog v. God

The sign on the churchyard fence reads, "We're in this struggle TOGETHER," over a picture of the current pope (Francis, for our readers coming from the far reaches of time and/or the internet) embracing a brown-skinned woman. It's a pretty basic sentiment, but it touches me, nonetheless.

And the building behind the wrought-iron fence, a solid church of the white stone Brooklyn variety, early 20th century, simultaneously unassuming and slightly ostentatious, suddenly seems very important too, and I can feel the weight of all that stone and all that time and history in the carvings of angels, in the tall stained-glass windows, in the steeples crowned with crosses.

The dog walks by, completely unconcerned, sniffs a corner where other dogs have almost certainly peed, and then looks up at me curiously where I stand, transfixed by something like an epiphany that has no meaning attached, and waits for us to move on.

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