Walking the Circle

I saw a remarkable thing in a remarkable place, Grace Cathedral in San Francisco. Perched on the crest of Nob Hill, the church offers many beautiful sights to admire: ornate doors with biblical scenes played out in bronze relief, murals depicting the history of the city lining the cathedral’s interior walls, replicas of the Chartes labyrinth in a courtyard and in the sanctuary that are walked daily by seekers. But the most outstanding feature of the church may be missed by tourists whose eyes are drawn immediately to the more spectacular sights. This feature is a small chapel in the nave of the church. Its altar bears a triptych designed by the late artist and activist Keith Haring, a stainless steel creation that was completed two weeks before his death in 1990. On this altarpiece—a folding metal screen with three panels—is depicted, in Haring’s unmistakeable style, the life of Christ.

In the back corner of the chapel is a simple, glass-enclosed book. Called the Book of Remembrance, the leather-bound volume contains the names and death-dates of deceased men and women whose loved ones have requested their commemoration. The display case is lit from above by a single, bright light. Curious to read the names, I placed both hands on the transparent case lid and bent forward, pausing and reading each name and date silently. It struck me that many visitors must do the same thing, allowing these people who mattered and matter to others to live on through the simple act of an unspoken roll call. As I finished and turned to leave, moved, I saw the misty outline of my fingers on the glass shimmer and shrink beneath the piercing light, and the message was unmistakeable: life is fleeting.