Collaborative Prayer in East Village's Shrine for Ukraine

Religion creates. It generates both internal emotions and external movements which interweave amongst each other to create collaborative manifestations of faith. It is impossible to find examples of people whose internal faith does not somehow show itself in external collaborative ways. Dorothy Day, whose Catholic Worker movement was driven by her internal discoveries of religious and personal suffering, is a clear example of internal religion and external movements in collaboration both with each other, and with other people working towards the same cause. Kerouac’s Buddhist faith may be difficult to view as collaborative and external because of its focus on finding internal peace. The novel’s most elevated character spends months a time by himself, and the protagonist struggles with finding a balance between such freedom and compassion through human interaction. And yet, Buddhist ideals elevate each person’s acceptance and relation to the universe as a whole. This kind of collaboration with the world, in the novel, is often manifest externally through creation—for Kerouac, this creation occurs through writing and poetic composition. He pours his soul onto sheets of paper, physical objects which he then shares with the world.

When this kind of religious energy is shared between more than one person, it has the potential to generate powerful forces of emotion, compassion, and empathy. The dynamic collaborative process involved in creating this shrine, found in East Village, creates such an energy. I first noticed it last year, when a couple of church candles and flowers were placed under the alcove shortly after the first violent reactions to the protests in Kyiv’s Maidan erupted. This observation, however, is a retrospective one. In that time, it was unclear to what the shrine referred. Over time, and as the conflict progressed, slowly people started to put up informational and propaganda posters, along with Ukrainian images holding emotional and spiritual significance, and images of deceased loved ones. Each of these images represents the inner faith of each person who took the time out of his/her day to contribute to the wall, thus externally projecting his/her faith. There is a specific choice behind every part of this shrine, and a specific driving force behind each choice. The overarching drive behind this shrine is consolation and hope. Each image, each flower, and each candle represents a prayer for a loved one, someone who sacrificed themselves for their country, and for a nation.

This common prayer increases in strength with each new addition to the shrine, and the community feels this. The shrine represents the dynamic collaborative process which religion drives. Every time I pass it, there are fresh flowers in the alcove, and the candles are always lit. This maintenance shows the Ukrainian community’s dedication to this prayer. It is a way to continue coming together as a community in a nation separated from Ukraine, but still showing unity with their home country. This atmosphere of separation and unity has permeated New York’s East Village for decades. Previously called the Ukrainian Village, it was the home to Ukrainian immigrants coming from Western Ukraine. The people from this region were all unified in their religion which emphasized the conception of Ukraine as its own, separate nation. This inner spirituality travelled not only through space, from Ukraine to New York, but also through generations. Now, most of the Ukrainians in East Village are 3^rd or 4^th generation. And yet, they still feel a strong spiritual connection to their culture and nation. This collective, historical faith is physically manifest in this shrine to send not only a powerful message, but also a prayer.