Shelter From the Storm
This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.

Christmas in our town can appear daunting from a distance – frenzied shoppers and frantic cabdrivers, a snapshot of a stressed-out, elbow-throwing, money-driven New York. But the spirit of the season is strong in our city, even if it has to be searched out.
It can sometimes be found in small acts of kindness between strangers, but more dependably in the hundreds of historic churches that offer sanctuary throughout the five boroughs. Many of these structures defined our city’s skyline long before the Empire State Building or the Chrysler Building were even imagined. One of the oldest is the Marble Collegiate Church.
Their ministry has been a mainstay of New York’s faithful since 1628,and this year marked the 150th anniversary of the construction of their current church on 29th Street and Fifth Avenue. When it was opened in 1854, it stood beside a dirt road six blocks beyond the city limits. The cast-iron fence surrounding the structure was built to keep out cows from a neighboring dairy farm. In the intervening decades, the city sprouted up around it. The church gained national renown in the 1950s as the home parish of Norman Vincent Peale and his best-selling book “The Power of Positive Thinking.”
Today this vision of an inclusive, psychologically empowering faith continues under the stewardship of the Reverend Arthur Caliandro. His sermons are nationally broadcast and widely reprinted, in part because they are the opposite of fire and brimstone, offering instead a reasoned, humble, and heartening approach to faith.
Whereas many congregations appear segregated on Sundays, the Marble congregation has been racially diverse for decades. At a time when pulpits led the drive to pass bans on gay marriage in 11 states, Marble Collegiate offers fellowship groups for gays and lesbians in the simple belief that they are children of God as much as the rest of us. Marble’s response to the attacks of September 11 was equally indicative of the congregation’s character: They conducted a “trialogue” sermon between Rev. Caliandro, Imam Al-Hajj Talib ‘Abdur-Rashid of the mosque of Islamic Brotherhood in Harlem, and Rabbi Ronald Sobel of Temple Emanu-El, beginning a tradition that continues in the church service after every Thanksgiving. Marble’s inclusive ethic is combined with a unique accessibility. It does not ignore contemporary culture, but engages it in order to transcend it. References to Alexander Solzhenitsyn, Nelson Mandela, and Vincent Lombardi are almost as likely in sermons as mention of Saint Peter.
I sat down with Rev. Caliandro as the holiday season was getting under way to discuss the sometimes hidden but still strong current of spirituality that runs through New York, and his vision of Christmas in such a diverse and commercial city.
“I think the season is good for everybody, whether you’re Christian or not, religious or not,” he said. “Because for a couple of weeks there is a spirit of generosity – people actually spend time and money buying gifts to make someone else happy. And then, for two or three days right around Christmas, there is something in the air which is magical. New York does it very well. There is a more positive, upbeat spirit. The music is positive, the decorations are colorful. It is affirming. What it symbolizes is what every one of us wants: tenderness and love.”
The compassionate common sense of this message takes on increased meaning at a time when activists on both sides are catching Christmas in the crossfire as they try to score points in the culture wars. What is remarkable about the attitudes of both the secular absolutists who want to ban all mention of Christmas from the public square, and the pundits who delight in disproportionately publicizing the influence of this vocal minority, is that the subject of kindness never seems to come up as they debate Christmas. Instead, it is all suspicion and vitriol. What we should refocus on is the wisdom that Rev. Caliandro calls “the bottom line of Jesus’s message: Love your neighbor as you love yourself.”
Loving your neighbor as yourself in a city of 8 million people can be a challenge even in the best of times. But when a cold wind is combined with the high expectations and overscheduling of the holidays, it can be tempting to look at every unknown person as an obstacle. This attitude toward “strangers,” in turn, transforms our city into a strange land, with all hard edges and bright lights. To see the soul and good cheer beneath the tinsel, take the time to have a deeper look.
Recognize yourself in others and then the layers of history that exists on every street corner. Remember that across the country and around the world, families will be gathering to read “The Night Before Christmas” – a poem written by a New Yorker named Clement C. Moore for his children in what is now the heart of Chelsea, circa 1822.That Christmas spirit of kindness has always been here, offering shelter from the storm. As Rev. Caliandro reminds us, “Christmas Eve in this town, all over America, and around the world is a very special night – whether you’re Christian or not…There is something that transcends at Christmastime.” And so in that spirit, without irony or fear of exclusivity, I’d like to add my voice to the chorus, and wish a Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.