We can still pray for them, even if it's not right
Outside a Long Island church, a stone figure lost its head in the night — and a community gathered for First Communion found, instead, a symbol of their faith broken in the bushes. A 41-year-old woman without a home was arrested days later, charged with criminal mischief, while the Suffolk County Hate Crimes Unit quietly considered what deeper motive, if any, lay beneath the act. What followed from the church itself was not outrage but an invitation to pray for the one who caused the harm — a response that, in its way, embodied the very faith the statue was meant to represent.
- A sacred statue was decapitated under cover of night, its severed head hidden in nearby bushes and discovered only hours later by the church's own pastor.
- The timing struck a particular nerve — families had gathered that same morning to celebrate First Communion, a milestone of faith, only to find a symbol of that faith deliberately destroyed.
- Suffolk County's Hate Crimes Unit opened an investigation, signaling that authorities considered the possibility of bias motivation, though no specific reasoning was made public.
- Deyonna Subert, 41 and undomiciled, was arrested six days after the incident and charged with second-degree criminal mischief, with arraignment scheduled at First District Court.
- Rather than calling for retribution, the parish pastor asked parishioners to pray for the perpetrator and opened a donation effort to restore the statue within days.
On the morning of May 19th, families arriving at St. Mary's Church in East Islip for First Communion celebrations encountered something deeply unsettling: the statue of Jesus outside the church had been decapitated. Father Anthony Iaconis later found the head discarded in nearby bushes. Investigators determined the damage had occurred around 11:15 p.m. on May 15th, and Suffolk County Police's Hate Crimes Unit opened an investigation.
The moment carried a painful irony. First Communion is one of the most joyful occasions in Catholic parish life, and the families who had come to mark it found themselves confronting an act of destruction aimed at the heart of their faith. "This is where the kids come and they take their picture," Iaconis told reporters, describing the collision of celebration and vandalism. Parishioner Regina Vavricka reflected that the affront extended beyond any single denomination — it was, she suggested, an offense against shared human respect for the sacred.
Deyonna Subert, 41, described as undomiciled, was arrested early on May 21st in Bay Shore and charged with second-degree criminal mischief. She was held overnight and scheduled for arraignment at First District Court in Central Islip. Authorities noted, as is standard, that a charge is an accusation and that she is presumed innocent.
The church's response stood in quiet contrast to the violence of the act. Iaconis did not call for anger. He asked his congregation to pray for the person responsible, and the parish began accepting donations to restore the statue — work expected to be completed within days. In choosing forgiveness over grievance, the community offered something the broken statue itself could not: a living expression of the faith it represented.
On the morning of May 19th, parishioners arriving at St. Mary's Church in East Islip for Sunday services and First Communion celebrations found something missing. The statue of Jesus that stood outside the church at 118 East Main Street had been decapitated. The head was nowhere to be seen.
It wasn't until later that Father Anthony Iaconis, the church's pastor, discovered it—discarded in the bushes nearby. The statue, a representation of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, had been deliberately damaged sometime around 11:15 p.m. on May 15th. Suffolk County Police's Hate Crimes Unit opened an investigation.
Deyonna Subert, 41 years old and described by police as undomiciled, was arrested at 6:39 a.m. on May 21st outside an address on West Main Street in Bay Shore. She was charged with second-degree criminal mischief in connection with the damage to the statue. She spent the night at the Fourth Precinct and was scheduled for arraignment Thursday at First District Court in Central Islip.
The discovery came at a moment of celebration for the parish. First Communion is a significant milestone in Catholic life, and families had gathered to mark the occasion. Instead, they encountered an act of destruction directed at a symbol central to their faith. "Across the way into the auditorium, we had first communions and this is where the kids come and they take their picture," Iaconis explained to local media, describing the juxtaposition of the day's intended joy with the vandalism.
Regina Vavricka, a longtime parishioner, spoke to the broader impact. "I think everyone would be upset by it," she said. "Whether you belong to this parish or not, or whether you're Catholic or Jewish, it doesn't really matter." Her comment suggested that the damage transcended denominational lines—it was an affront to shared values of respect for religious property and symbols.
What followed, however, was a response rooted in forgiveness rather than anger. Iaconis did not dwell on the vandalism itself. Instead, he pivoted toward compassion. "I just ask people to pray for the person who did this," he told reporters. "It's not right, but we can still pray for them." The church began accepting donations to repair the statue, which officials expected to restore within days.
The case remains in the early stages of the criminal justice process. Suffolk County Police noted in their statement that "a criminal charge is an accusation" and that "a defendant is presumed innocent until and unless proven guilty." The Hate Crimes Unit's involvement signals that investigators are treating the incident as potentially motivated by bias, though the specific circumstances that led to that determination were not detailed in public statements.
Citações Notáveis
I just ask people to pray for the person who did this. It's not right, but we can still pray for them.— Father Anthony Iaconis, pastor of St. Mary's Church
Whether you belong to this parish or not, or whether you're Catholic or Jewish, it doesn't really matter.— Regina Vavricka, longtime parishioner
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why did the police involve the Hate Crimes Unit for what sounds like simple vandalism?
The targeting of a religious statue—especially one as central to Catholic identity as the Sacred Heart—suggests the damage may have been motivated by animus toward the faith itself rather than just random destruction. That's what elevates it in their eyes.
The pastor's response is striking. Most people would be angry.
Iaconis seems to have made a deliberate choice. He could have condemned the person, demanded justice, used it as a rallying point. Instead he asked for prayer. That's a theological stance—treating the perpetrator as someone in need of grace, not just punishment.
Do we know anything about Subert's circumstances?
Only that she's undomiciled—without stable housing. We don't know what led to this act, whether it was ideological, a mental health crisis, or something else entirely. The arrest is just the beginning of that story.
The timing with First Communion seems almost deliberately hurtful.
It could be. Or it could be coincidence—the statue was damaged Friday night, discovered Sunday morning. But yes, hitting a church on a day of celebration for children adds a layer of violation that wouldn't be there otherwise.
What happens next?
Arraignment, then the legal process unfolds. But the church has already moved past the immediate wound—they're raising money to fix it and asking people to pray. That's their answer to what happened.