New Mural in NYC’s St. Patrick’s Cathedral Features Dorothy Day and the Stories of Immigrants
On Sept. 21, the International Day of Peace, a new mural was blessed in the cathedral’s narthex, linking the struggles of Irish immigrants of the past with today’s migrants and refugees. Alongside figures like St. Kateri Tekakwitha, Pierre Toussaint, and Mother Cabrini, Dorothy Day is depicted as a witness to mercy and justice. Kevin Ahern was there, and reflects on the significance of the event.
by Kevin Ahern
On Sunday, September 21st — the International Day of Peace — I had the chance to join with my family and other members of the Dorothy Day Guild at St. Patrick’s Cathedral for the blessing of a new mural in the narthex when you first walk in through the main doors of 5th Avenue.
The mural by Adam Cvijanovic, entitled, “What’s So Funny About Peace, Love, and Understanding” connects the cathedral’s foundation with Irish immigrants to the experience of contemporary migrants and refugees.
On one side, a panel features Irish immigrants disembarking into New York under the images of the Marian Apparitions in Knock, Ireland in 1879 (the same year of the dedication of the NY cathedral).
On the other side, a panel featuring more contemporary migrants and refugees connects the historic (white) Irish experience to the contemporary struggles of peoples too often disparaged and dehumanized by new forms of American nativism and nationalism. Among those on the move are people fleeing with plastic shopping bags and parents holding small children with nothing on their backs. These images recall scenes in Mediterranean cities, the US-Mexican Border, and Gaza. In the midst of these peoples are two historic figures, Mother Cabrini, the great champion of migrants and Venerable Félix Varela y Morales, a Cuban-born priest who accompanied immigrants and advocated for the abolition of slavery.
On the wall facing the main church are two panels, each with five figures. One features five New York first responders, a reminder of how immigrants shape the public life of the city. The other highlights five exemplars of Catholicism standing under an angel depicted as a young man of African descent. These include:
- Archbishop John Joseph Hughes, the first Archbishop of New York who confronted violent nativism and racism towards immigrants;
- St. Kateri Tekakwitha, the first Native American saint and member of the Mohawk/Algonquin people
- Alfred E. Smith, a champion of the urban poor and four-term Governor of New York
- Venerable Pierre Toussaint, a former slave who modeled generosity to the poor, and
- Dorothy Day.
The readings for the Mass echoed the legacies of the exemplars featured in the murals, including Amos’ denunciation of those “who trample upon the needy and destroy the poor of the land!” or the Psalmist’s song (Psalm 113) to “Praise the Lord who lifts up the poor.” Unfortunately, the homily by the visiting pastor of the Knock shrine largely missed the opportunity to directly engage the contemporary sins of violent nationalism and xenophobia.
Nevertheless, the images in the murals have the potential to offer a prophetic message that contrasts with the golden letters on the nearby Trump tower and the ICE raids happening in other parts of the city. Like an inscription on the inside of the Old St. Patrick’s that denounce nativism, these images are a counterpoint to the soul sickness of America first nationalism.
Many now entering the cathedral will be reminded of the story of immigrants, the reality of the poor, the experience of the First Peoples and the witness of prophetic figures who dared to stand with them in the face of hate.
And this gives me hope; hope that more people will enact the works of mercy; and hope that the church will realign itself with the poor and excluded as Pope Francis so often dreamed.
Art and beauty, as Dorothy herself knew, has the power to transform and communicate the Gospel. The images of these women and men around the doors of St. Patrick’s means that they are not only present to those entering and leaving the church, but that they can be seen by anyone standing at the Altar. I pray then that they will remind all those who celebrate in this place about the social demands of holiness, and in particular, the Gospel call to show hospitality to migrants and to work to end the violence of racism and xenophobic nationalism that so deeply wounds the country and the church today.




