|
|
 |
|
Silence and Belief |
|
written
by joelnish / 10.24.2005 |
|
|
|
|
|
| Silence and Belief |
1 of 1 |
|
| |
Assignment |
| |
“You paid the twenty five-cents?”
“Of course,” replied Christina. She picked up the small prayer candle and lit it by dipping the wick into the flame of other prayers. “Jeese Kenji what do you take me for?”
“Do you do this at other churches?”
“At most.” They both paused to survey the small little chapel filled with the regular trappings of a Roman church, mismatched pillars, elaborate tile floors with ornate and somewhat boring frescoed ceilings.
“I didn’t know you were so pious.” Kenji then turned to Christina and with what was perhaps an overly serious tone and a raised brow. “I didn’t even know that you were Christian.”
“I’m not.” Turning her head away Christina left to survey other parts of the church at her leisure and Kenji after taking a quick photograph followed in her wake, mostly curious but a little confused. “Look, I know it’s kind of a fad these days to say this but it’s really like how I’ve always felt. I’m spiritual but not religious. Does that make sense?” Without giving Kenji a chance to reply she continued, “In fact I don’t understand how community ever really became involved with it. To me community seems a little beside the point.”
“So does that make you atheist or agnostic?”
“I hate the way those words sound, and I’m neither. Maybe that’s just how you would take it.” And after a look from Kenji Christina expanded, “you know, as such a devoted Christian and stuff.”
Kenji shrugged—only half understanding and they met back up with tour guide.
The last stop was a small church Santi Quattro Coronati, a small quaint church that had more feel than ceremony. Wandering off from the rest of the tour Kenji found this particularly delicate door that was ever so slightly ajar, crept his way through, clutched his camera and closed the door behind him. Stretched out before him was a series of delicate pillars that protected a luscious green garden gently lit by the sun. And despite its stillness the garden seemed to explode with life. Letting the camera fall back to his side Kenji found himself surprised by the sound of his own breathing. It was soft and well paced, seemingly alien in a city like Rome. And the rich greenness of the garden also seemed so unlike the vast canvas of grey and confused urban colors that the piazzas where built with. He began circling the garden, watching a bush turn through the broken line of columns. Stepping into the hushed light of the garden Kenji walked through it with a reverence for the silence. Filled with some forgotten childish energy he played with the idea of making as little sound as he could while he walked. Placing each step with conscious determination he found a glee in the path’s stubborn insistence on noise. Next he tried playing a statue, lying motionless. He tried to be a melancholy girl leaning against the columns, then a pensive thinker. Yet slowly he grew tired of this and simply sat and leaned against the walls of the small garden and let the garden take over resting his camera beside him where he would later forget it.
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
|
|
