Two Sundays ago, as Joe and I walked through our neighborhood, we heard the sounds of a marching band several blocks away. It’s not a surprise to hear drums and trumpets in the East Village but this was different. The melodies were somber, the cadence slow and heavy. Incense drifted toward us. As we rounded the corner, we saw a 12-foot-tall silver statue of the Virgin Mary rocking like a boat down the tree-lined street. It was lifted on the shoulders of a dozen or so men in purple robes who pressed their bodies close to share the burden. As one column of men shifted the weight of the float to the other side, they took the slightest step in unison. Their effort looked both beautiful and taxing. The look on their faces seemed to say, “I will suffer and I will suffer with pleasure.”
It reminded me of how, in college, during my brief stint on the rowing team, we practiced for hours dipping our oars in the water at the same time. It was excruciating, but when we got it right, the boat would glide across the surface of the water.
As I raised my camera to photograph, I realized that I have spent decades seeking to capture moments when one’s body is engaged in the material world while the spirit travels out beyond space and time. I have documented in obvious places — religious festivals and pilgrimage sites— and also backstage at boxing tournaments, at weddings and funerals, parades, protests and dance floors, in erotic spaces and between intimates. The energy of devotion is palpable. Poets and mystics have attempted to describe it since the beginning of language. It inspires awe in others. It’s why I weep at the NYC Marathon every year. It’s why a crowd had gathered around the parade on 9th street photographing and walking alongside the devotees in quiet reverence. It took the better part of the day to traverse the length of the block.
It got me thinking about both the pleasure and potential of devotion. Is it possible that the world we want to live in demands nothing short of complete devotion? It would require a transcendence of self and a departure from the rugged individualism that has been the foundation of our country. On the flip side, those transcendent states can be highly addictive and devotion to the wrong thing/cause/person (or any person, for that matter) can lead one astray. As with any powerful fuel, devotion needs to be handled with care. History is littered with misguided devotion from Hitler to the authoritarianism that we are witnessing around the world.
Such a powerful force deserves some conversation. Here are eight thoughts to get the party started.
Devotion demands a sacrificial lamb, something valuable, which, in today’s currency is not just money but time and attention. In return, it offers transcendence, a release from the complications of this human existence.
Devotion flouts the efficiency and outcome we seek for the rest of our lives. It is the practice for the practice itself.
It demands that we take some challenging action: rising early, staying up late, and pushing ourselves past some physical or emotional limit. It straddles the line between reasonable and ridiculous.
Devotion can elevate almost any task from the ordinary to the sublime from dishes to driving, gardening to cooking. A friend told me how she realized she hadn’t changed her child’s sheets in weeks. Instead of rushing through the task, she brought her full attention to how she tucked in the corners of fresh sheets and smoothed the blankets. Then she sprayed rose water on the clean pillowcases as she wished him well.
Devotion requires well-defined boundaries and self-care. Cemeteries are filled with tributes to devoted husbands and wives, mothers and fathers, which is beautiful and also makes me wonder how often it is a way of praising someone for being self-sacrificing.
When we are in the transcendent state of devotion we are extremely vulnerable.
Devotion to a single individual can turn a missionary into a mercenary, a movement into a conspiracy, and a community into a cult.
Devotion comes from the Latin vovēre, the act of taking a vow. It is the state of being ardently dedicated and loyal. It’s got both power and directionality and can change our equilibrium, which m… corrupted, capitalized and weaponized for political gain.
Your turn. What have you got on devotion? Do you have a devotional practice? What are you learning from it? What are you witnessing around you? Is devotion the only path to our salvation — and what does that even mean?
As always, thank you for reading, thinking with me, and supporting my writing. I am so grateful you are here with me.