New York City is home to the largest gothic cathedral in the world, at least if your definition of "gothic" is capacious enough to include late 19th and 20th century constructions. (Before you say anything, recall that many of the most famous gothic spires in Europe - notably those in Köln, Ulm, Prague and Vienna - are works of 19th century nationalism, not medieval piety.) The granite and limestone Cathedral Church of Saint John the Divine is a massive edifice, and feels like a medieval cathedral in several (unintended) ways. Its originally 
Romanesque design was revised by a gothicist part way through, for one thing. For another, it's far from being completed, and it's anybody's guess what spires (if any) someday rise from it; the vast structure depicted on the overeager postcard above ain't happening. Even the spires of the west facade are unfinished. If the Episcopal Diocese of New 
York had been willing, to use modern materials like cast iron, as the Catholics were with St. Pat's, we might have that peculiar cone as one of our city landmarks. Instead, we have a semi- fossilized 
work in progress which feels genuinely ancient.I went to the cathedral today because T, a Lang student I know well, has a summer internship there, and it seemed a good way to learn something about the place. It'd been a while since I last went, and much has been renovated since then. New also were the shifty Chartrian carvings on the central west portal (top picture in this post - note the postures, and the medieval polychrome figures above). Most striking were the scenes beneath the feet of the prophets; T explained that the horror of the destruction of Jerusalem was supposed to be made more palpable
through these scenes of cataclysm destroying the Brooklyn Bridge, and nuclear attack leveling Manhattan - pre 9/11, incidentally) were new. I also learned about the cathedral's odd status as a place intended for all New Yorkers, not just Episcopalians or even just Christians. By the high altar are big menorahs as well as two vases donated by the Japanese 
Emperor in the 1920s - a plucky combination even without the unassertive cross, since the God of Israel might be expected to be jealous of the gifts of another god (in the 20s the Tenno was still a god)! As a guide, T can speak of the cathedral as a work of architecture, of history, of art, even of geometry, and he can speak ecumenically of religion - but why go out of your way to emphasize that the cathedral is a house of Christian worship?