Marilyn’s View of St Mary’s

By Marilyn Dickson (Magnus Academy)

The moment I walk in. It feels light. The air I breathe smells of dust, and I have no choice but to allow it to enter. I’m slightly lightheaded. Above me, the ceiling is raised high, I feel less, is this why I feel like this? Most likely. 

A two legged mammal, under a tall roof, it feels unusual, the mammal, as if it's unimportant. As if it has no meaning, no purpose. It hates the thought, so it stays silent, walking around. It notices things. A man. Pale skinned, with a beard, he looks soft, gentle and comforting. Then a woman, with a child. A mother. 

The mammal continues its journey, looking around the place, it finds a symbol frequently used, a cross. Then, the man on the cross, hanging. This is the mammals saviour, it remembers the stories its friends had told it. Jesus Christ. The man who died for the sins of our cruelty. He is the cross, he died on it, his blood was on it, he had his final breath on that cross. So, now it's a symbol of faith.

It wanders more. An eagle. A prideful and confident creature. It represents a freedom of choice. A choice laid in front of the poor mammal, and it feels even smaller now that it has only two paths. Follow the faith, or be forgotten by its saviour and suffer. Surrender to the eagles rules, or be dropped from the sky, broken, and unforgiven by the path it chooses. The eagle has placed fear on either path. Surrender: it is confined to what the eagle says, what it orders or be forever scarred anew every minute, every second from the other path.

It pauses its walk. The mammal sits down where it deems comfortable, and so, it takes all its seen. The place, or rather church, shows a mother with her child that child rising to be Christ. Christ is everywhere, either as a child, as a man or as the cross. He is watching the small mammal, and every other mammal like it. Its smallness is better when it knows its Christ is looking out for it. It is nice. The church is nice.