(church info last updated 04/07/2016)Address: 32 James St. (Rectory at 23 Oliver St.)
Phone: 212.233.0161
Constructed: 1835-1837
Links:
About the Organ
Sacrilege at St. James in NYC
St. James
St. Joseph (Sister Church)
EASTER SUNDAYFrom nycago.org...
"In 1835, Father Varela purchased property for a new church on James Street, and the name was changed to St. James Church. Built from 1835-37 and dedicated by Bishop Dubois in 1836, St. James Church has the distinction of having the second oldest Roman Catholic church building extant in Manhattan. No one is certain who designed the noble Greek Revival edifice, although its pedimented facade is similar to designs published by architect Minard Lafever. As originally built, the fieldstone building had a domed cupola above the roof, and the facade included the inscription "D.O.M. S. JACOBO DEO OPTIMO MAXIMO" (To God, the Best and Greatest). In 1966, the church was designated by the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission.
Since its founding, the church has been home to many notables, including Alfred E. Smith, who served as an altar boy before becoming Governor of New York State and the first Roman Catholic candidate for the presidency. In the 1880s, Smith described the church as the "leading Catholic parish in New York, not excepting the cathedral itself."
The Ancient Order of Hibernians, an Irish fraternal organization, is also associated with St. James Church, as their first chapter in the United States was established in 1836 at this church. The Hibernians organized in response to the burning of St. Mary's Church on Grand Street, and other acts of violence against Irish clergy and property. In 1983, the Hibernians financed the restoration of St. James Church after city officials ordered it closed when the roof was in danger of collapsing."
I was told a few weeks ago by Tali, the organist of St. James, that I should make sure to include this church on my journey. Of course, it was always on my list, but she intrigued me further by saying, St. James is "the oldest surviving Catholic structure in the city and state of New York in original condition (Old St. Patrick's and St. Joseph on 6th Ave that had disastrous fires that gutted them, being officially older.)"
Something else that recently interests me about St. James is a pilgrimage I have followed via the website, BustedHalo.com. It is the journey of the Camino, or "Way of St. James," that follows a path through Northern Spain to the Cathedral de Santiago de Compostello, where St. James the Apostle is apparently buried. Even though www.catholic.org states "Legends have sprung up that James evangelized Spain before he died but these stories have no basis in historical fact," the Camino has captured my attention and imagination, and I think, realizing that my pilgrimage (because, that is in fact, what it is) of New York Churches is at an end, someday I'd very much like to do something like this. Perhaps the last 60 kilometers that many thousands of pilgrims travel each year, or even, if I'm feeling exceptionally ambitious, the 480 kilometers from France.
Due to a miscommunication between the staff at St. James and their parish, nearly all the parishioners of St. James attended the 10:30am Easter Sunday Spanish Mass today or the vigil at St. Joseph last night, and almost no one was present for the 12pm service.
But I was there, and almost as soon as I entered the place and started snapping pictures an older guy named George pulled me aside and asked me if I liked the place. Sure, I said, hesitating a bit. Good, he responded, then I'll show you around. Before I knew it he was leading me in and out of doorways, through the stairwells and balcony and showing me this church. It's a very old place that requires a lot of renovating and George is the one in charge of most of the work.
Slowly, day by day, bit by bit, molding by molding, George and staff are working to replace glass that is broken, repaint fading walls, fix leaks and continue to make this church more and more beautiful. Not that it's not already a site and pretty to begin with, but George showed me all the work to be done. He's very devoted and intent on his work, but most of all, he loves his church.
Everyone I talked to here at St. James was so friendly and welcoming: George, the priest, I think I even met Tali, the organist. (By the way, the music sounded great, the organ was terrific and the cantor had a strong elegant voice - really great church song that brought the Liturgy alive for me.)
Because there were so few of us in attendance, the priest delivered a more intimate sermon than (what I assume) is usual. He interjected thoughts and reflections during the readings, tied in the words of Paul with today's social justice issues and immigration, and really brought the Good News.I'd definitely consider coming here regularly if it wasn't so far away.
Later in the day, I celebrated Easter with friends: the brightness of the day and the newness of life.
Meanwhile, things with my girlfriend are not all right. We are both hard people to be with. I think I'm terrible at this. Maybe always have been, maybe always will be. It's anyone's guess whether we'll be together in the end. Or if we should be. But she knows how much this church journey has meant to me, knows what I have been doing and she handed me a card today, an Easter card, congratulating me on completing this journey. It meant a lot, more than can be imagined. As does she.
"Why does she sing
Her sad songs for me? I'm not the one
To tenderly bring
Her soft sympathy. I've just begun
To see my way clear and it's plain if I stop I will fall.
I can lay down a tear for her pain, just a tear and that's all.
What does she want me to do?
She says that she knows that moments are rare.
I suppose
That it's true.
Then on she goes to say I don't care and she knows
That I do.
Maybe she just has to sing for the sake of the song.
Who do I think that I am to decide that she's wrong?
She'd like to think that I'm cruel
But she knows that's a lie for I would be
No more than a tool
If I allowed her to cry all over me.
My sorrow is real even though I can't change my plans.
If she could see how I feel then I know that she'd understand.
Does she actually think I'm to blame?
Does she really believe
That some word of mine
Could relieve
All her pain?
Can't she see that she grieves just because she's been blindly deceived
By her shame?
Maybe she just has to sing for the sake of the song.
Who do I think that I am to decide that she's wrong?
Nothin's what it seems.
Maybe she'll start someday to realize
If she abandons her dreams,
Then all the words she can say are only lies.
When will she see that to gain
Is only to lose?
All that she offers me are her chains,
And I've got to refuse.
It's only to herself that she's lied.
She likes to pretend
there's something that she should defend
With her pride.
I don't intend to stand here and be the friend
From whom she must hide.
Maybe she just has to sing for the sake of the song.
Who do I think that I am to decide that she's wrong?
Maybe she just has to sing for the sake of the song."
(Townes Van Zandt)
