gong for god.

All the churches in New York City look lost to me. It's probably because I'm just a small town girl, but I don't expect to turn a busy street corner and find myself starring at a gothic cathedral. I wonder where this church meant to be, and how it got so lost that it just sat down here between a Hungarian bakery and a cobbler's shop.

We stumbled upon this massive Episcopalian church, The Cathedral Church of Saint John the Divine. Going inside a place like this, all marble and domed ceilings and stained glass, I do start to think that if I were God, I'd hang out in the expensive churches. It's really a lucky thing that I'm not God, for a lot of other unrelated reasons.

Anyway, behind the pulpit in this cathedral, there was something hanging from the ceiling. It was huge. I took a poor quality picture of it, and I post that picture here, not because it is a good picture, but because it is fascinating.


It's a gong. A giant, probably six feet high, gong. In a church. I have no idea why, except that if I were God, I would be pleased.