Finding Religion at the Corner Bodega

The corner bodega: it holds a different meaning for all of us. The only delivery place where you know the phone number by heart. The one place that always has your favorite candy bar in stock. Where you grab an apple on the way to class and a package of toilet paper when your roommate forgets to buy their share of it (again). Nonetheless, it is seldom a place where you would expect to stumble upon a symbol of religion amongst its tattered exterior; yet, one might say that you visit the bodega “religiously”. The decrepit board that constitutes the westernmost wall of my closest bodega at 74th and Amsterdam is indicative of several paint-jobs, as varying shades of green mask the brown-colored core of the wall, potentially a sign of graffitied symbols of day’s past. However, on October 28th, 2017, the work that covered this wall was far from stereotypical graffiti, as the wall was emblazoned with a bright, juvenile-like painting of a flowering heart.

At first sight, what struck me the most about this work is the viewership that it had, and would continue to, experience. When standing and absorbing the environment that this painting had been placed within, there was a couple fighting behind me, parents pushing their children in strollers, and New Yorkers passing at the stereotypical New Yorker rate. How many of them stopped to actually understand or comprehend the painting? From my observations, none of them. The juxtaposition of this heartwarming, consoling painting with stark advertisements for new clothing stores and albums that typically cover these kinds of walls is intriguing: is the painter of this flower attempting to advertise religion, or simply share it with the largest target market possible? After Googling the words “HHNY” that mark the corner of the painting, it came to my attention that I had seen work by this artist around the streets of New York City before, as Twitter and Instagram are full of images with sidewalk chalk and similar paintings with uplifting messages and symbols. In a way, HHNY is attempting to share a street-style view of religion, a type of religion that is easily adapted to, no matter if you find yourself sleeping in a multi-million dollar brownstone or on a stoop.

Thus, HHNY’s distinct, slapdash nature of their art grants creates a relatable work of art: we can all be artists of different mediums and adopt different lenses to understand religion through. However, all too often we find ourselves ogling over pieces in the MET or MoMA, wishing that those works of perfection were products of our own craft. HHNY’s work parallels the myriad of ways in which one can both find and engage in religion, for no two people’s methods of understanding religion are identical. From our readings and dialogue throughout the semester, all of the people whose work we read offered something different, but was generally laced with a sense of understanding throughout: an offering to the reader to identify their theological outlook, but to simultaneously find their own version of the religion within the broader lens. The broad, joyous way in which HHNY provides New Yorkers with religion offers a light-hearted, easy way to approach anything from a hard walk to work or questions as to what religion has to offer.

The outdoor bodega selection.

Ergo, this is what HHNY’s flowering heart marked with “Jesus saves” does as well, for it offers the viewer an opportunity to continue walking by without noticing, or to notice the work and potentially go on with their day with a different mindset. Or, perhaps it will provide a student an opportunity to analyze how a single illustration on the side of a bodega proposes an interesting outlook upon how religion can be carved into a city of eight million residents or encourage someone to return to religion after shunning it for multiple years. After much analysis, I’ve realized that this brightly-colored illustration on the side of the 74th Street and Amsterdam bodega perfectly emphasizes the ways in which we, as New Yorkers, religiously operate in lieu of or in addition to the practice of stereotypical religion. The ambiguous nature of religion pushes me to understand and state that I believe our daily practices should be defined as religious. After all, religious practices strive to offer a sense of consistency and comfort in life: whilst one’s place of worship will always offer a sense of belonging, your bodega will always offer your Charmin Ultra Soft and King-Sized Snickers candy bar.