From my office on the 23rd floor, I look east to Brooklyn. Through the Wall Street canyon I can see a sliver of the East River. In between the river and me is Trinity—or at least the top third of its sandstone spire—and there are tall office buildings in front of the church and beside the church.
The perspective is shared by many. I am aware of this especially in winter, when evening falls early and the lights of the office buildings shine on the people working inside. I like this view. It tells me that the church’s presence is up here, even at this altitude.
For many, Trinity’s calm and ancient presence is part of life, even if it is simply the spire and cross beside you as you go about your work. I wouldn’t diminish this. There are sacred texts and songs that, while we don’t draw on them every day, accompany us. The words are recalled effortlessly, as though they were on watch for when we needed them. Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Amazing grace, how sweet the sound. Let all mortal flesh keep silence.
In Lower Manhattan, Trinity is psalm and song. And yet I think a key to understanding this church (perhaps any church) is how faith in stillness is married to faith in action. People have asked me, “isn’t Trinity more like a museum than a church?” Well, we do offer the world quiet, beauty, and historical tours, but there’s so much more to it than that.
Trinity’s work emanates from its congregation. As an example, for nearly six months now, members have gathered during coffee hour to prepare a lunch of nonperishable food for distribution during the week. The lunches are placed in bags that are handed out from the north portico, where Wall Street meets Broadway. So far, we’ve passed a Biblical standard, giving away more than 5,000 bags.
Our expectation for such endeavors is, as Christians who acknowledge the role of grace in our lives, typically optimistic. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard people around the church of late saying about a new program, “Well, we don’t know what to expect, but we are going to try.”
This is a helpful attitude as we try a number of new endeavors. It’s this spirit that draws people like the Rev. Deacon Bob Zito to Trinity. Bob is a lawyer who works from an office that has a similar view as mine, though looking at the spire from the east. Bob has just begun volunteering ten hours of his busy work week to Trinity as our parish deacon. His ministry is the latest expression of our pastoral commitment to a community under economic and vocational stress.
Will Bob’s Bible Study class be well attended and change people’s lives? Will we feed 10,000 from the north portico by springtime? Will the wider community continue to help make Trinity a vital center of Lower Manhattan life?
Trinity, in still presence and faithful action, stands for the people of this neighborhood up high and down low, in good times and bad, now and in the future.
We don’t know what to expect, but we are going to try.
Blessings,
The Rev. Canon Anne Mallonee
Vicar, Trinity Wall Street
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