Santa Monica – 3

Posted on September 26, 2002 in Photos

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We have in our home a small plastic votive object. A stylized anorexic depiction of the Virgin Mary stands behind two panels. When the doors are closed, the venerable image resembles an appliance commonly purchased in adult-oriented stores along Hollywood Boulevard. We call it “Mary of the Missile”.

Some have suggested that the statue of St. Monica similarly evokes a carnal device or a certain fleshy bit. The patron saint of unhappy mothers (her son was St. Augustine who prayed “Oh lord help me to be chaste and continent, but not yet.) faces the terminus of Wilshire Boulevard in an attitude suggesting she is praying for the difficult children who roll down from MacArthur Park and points east. Her backside presents a different view, I dare say, as if she were a solitary finger giving the Sign to any who would invade our shores from the West.

At her base, supplicants have left offerings of flowers ripped from the municipal garden, inscribed cups from the local Starbucks (one dated 9/20/2002 invoked St. Patrick), and a votive statue of St. Martin de. Porres (who my readers know as a favorite of mine). Gingerly I lifted the cups for inspection and put them back. I may laugh at the silly things people may make based on the saints or other godlings, but I am not one to vandalize them.

Not a few of my friends sweat when I start talking about saints or the fact that I have visited a few monasteries. It’s hard to explain a free-thinking agnostic’s love and respect for the sacred. I’m not certain whether or not there is a God, but I eschew the denial of respect and admiration for objects and lives forged in the love of the deity, even if possibly mistaken and over-optimistic. These things can comfort.