More than 6 million visitors walk through the front doors of St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City each year, making the church one of the most important tourist sights in the city.
Since 1879, when the church opened, people have entered via a “drab and dark” space, as Cardinal Timothy Dolan described it at a press conference on Thursday.
But that changed this week with the unveiling of the largest permanent artwork St. Patrick’s has ever commissioned: a massive mural now framing the entryway. Now there's a new reason to visit St. Patrick’s Cathedral.
"Immigrants are children of God"
Though it wasn’t originally planned as a statement-making piece, the artwork has an important message for this moment because its theme is immigration—the Lord works in mysterious ways indeed.
“The current hyped-up controversy about immigration—that postdates our dream about this [mural]," said Cardinal Dolan. "But it makes it a little more relevant, doesn’t it?”
He went on to say, “Some have asked me: Are you trying to make a statement about immigration? Well, sure we are. Namely that immigrants are children of God. And the people of Israel in the Old Testament, and the people formed by Jesus Christ, have been challenged to always be warm and embracing of the immigrant.”
Enrique Salvo, rector of St. Patrick's, went further, discussing his own journey as an immigrant from Ecuador to become a leader of the most famous church in the United States, saying he moved here "to do good. Like most immigrants to this country want to do."
Here’s a look at the epic mural, the figures in it, and the artist behind it.
Titled “What’s So Funny About Peace, Love and Understanding”, the mural comprises 12 panels that take up 1,200 linear feet. Some 5,225 individual sheets of gold leaf were affixed by hand by artisans overseen by the artist.
Brooklyn-based artist Adam Cvijanovic was chosen for the work through a vetting process by St. Patrick’s board. Raised in the Greek Orthodox church, Cvijanovic told me that the use of gold in those churches likely influenced his mural.
He spent 2 years working on it. Cvijanovic is probably best known for his murals in the Bean Federal Center in Indianapolis, and for that, he created 164 individual murals covering more than 7,000 square feet in order to represent American battlefields from the colonial period through today.
What's In St. Patrick's New Mural
The initial impulse to create the mural at St. Patrick's came from Cardinal Dolan 15 years ago, when the church was being renovated and staff members were talking about what to do with the dingy entryway.
Dolan, who is of Irish descent (and “biased,” as he said during the press event) originally wanted the entire space covered with a depiction of the Apparition at Knock, an event in County Mayo when 15 people reported seeing the Virgin Mary, St. Joseph, St. John the Evangelist, angels, and the Lamb of God.
Since that apparition was in 1879, the same year St. Patrick’s opened, many Irish members of the congregation have long connected the cathedral and the sightings—as has Cardinal Dolan.
The first panel shows the apparition (at the top of the painting), but instead of placing the witnesses in Ireland, they are shown as immigrants on board a boat heading to the United States.
“The Irish people have always been instrumental in this archdiocese,” Dolan said. “[The mural] also became an ode to those who followed them, and found in this city, this country, and, yes, in Holy Mother Church, an embrace of welcome.”
Look closely at the passengers on the boat: The woman wrapped in a plaid shawl and looking out at the viewer is Cardinal Dolan’s mother.
The next panel to the left pays tribute to New York City’s First responders.
“The different departments asked me not to paint individual firefighters, police officers, or EMTs for a very good reason,” Cvijanovic told me. “They didn’t want it to look like [the church] thought one member of these forces was more worthy than another.”
That doesn’t mean these aren’t real people, though. “Everybody in this painting is an actual person," Cvijanovic said at the press conference. "They’re all portraits, including the angels."
Cvijanovic asked his wife’s extended family and their friends to sit for the work. The "Lamb of God" was running around on a farm in New Jersey as he painted her.
This next panel shows (left to right, behind Cardinal Dolan in the picture above) Archbishop John Joseph Hughes (1797–1864), who began construction on St. Patrick's Cathedral; the first Native American saint, Kateri Tekakwitha (1656-1680); Alfred E. Smith (1873–1944), the first Catholic major-party nominee for U.S. President (1928) and four-term governor of New York; journalist and activist Dorothy Day (1897–1980), who co-founded the Catholic Worker Movement; and Venerable Pierre Toussaint (ca. 1766–1853) who started life enslaved in Haiti and became a philanthropist and key Catholic benefactor.
I found the final panel the most moving, as it shows modern immigrants and the sometimes-difficult road that’s involved with coming to the United States (see above, and the detail from the mural at the top of this post).
Cvijanovic told me that panel was the trickiest one to paint because he wanted to show a large group yet pay homage to individual humanity without the composition feeling too crowded—not easy as the panel is only 8 feet wide. I think he succeeded.
Sitting and standing among the recent immigrants are St. Frances Xavier Cabrini (1850–1917), the first U.S. citizen to be canonized as a saint; and Venerable Félix Varela y Morales, a Cuban-born abolitionist and priest.
Eventually there will be QR codes next to the panels with information on every identifiable individual who is portrayed.
A welcome addition for tourists
I’m always happy to find a new reason to revisit a classic New York City site, and this mural fits the bill. Not only does it brighten up a part of the church that was once an eyesore, but it also brings to the fore a message that used to be uncontroversial: Immigrants have always been what makes America great.
In the faces of the strivers and saints in these paintings—people of every age, background, and ethnicity (with important diversity)—I see wary hope and a plea to be welcomed. I'm not Christian, and I'm well aware of the myriad ways that the Catholic Church has betrayed its mission and its parishioners over the years. But it has done some real good in bringing this work of art to life in one of Manhattan's most beloved tourist attractions.