Transferring beyond
The quiet of pastoral pastures
-expected hughes of green
Taking up residence in sound
-Sights never before seen
Joining one’s life with rhythm
Encircled among dreams.
Bidding sanitized sidewalks
Farewell, boarding the grime
Of the bustling rail
Immersed in humanity’s sea
There is something intensified about living amidst so much of humanity. The sorrow and joy, ambition and fear just seem to sound like thunder- louder than lives behind acre and hedge. Perhaps my soul has deafened to the point of needing the volume of the human condition dialed up in order to feel alive.
My mind is continually both fascinated and perplexed by the multitude of contrasts that exist so close together. The attorney at the top of his game approaches Grand Central Market’s falafel counter and takes a seat next to the vagrant on the bottom of society’s proverbial rung. The migrant hot dog seller grills up lunch from his sidewalk cart for the fashion district’s latest vogue designer. UCLA’s prized history scholar sidesteps the raving mentally ill woman blocking the ascent up his classroom’s steps. The playing field is level when we share city streets.
I wonder what the significance is of the way Genesis opens upon an endless, perfect garden, and Revelation closes unveiling an untouched, dazzling city. Was it divine intent that the highest forms of creation emerge from sin’s alienation to converge together in forming complete community?
Babel’s tower demonstrates the potential for divine confusion when people unite with a purpose that exalts only themselves. A recent issue of The Economist illustrates how people have become so enamored with the diversity of cultures that they forget the God who imagined cultures (May 5-May 11 2007, pg. 15) Living among people who do not acknowledge their need for God has dangerous consequences, for God seems to hold whole communities responsible for the sin of individual members (Joshua 7). There also seems to be mercy and blessing for entire cities because of the righteous people who live there (Gen 18:16-33, Prov 11:11).
And yet, there is something in me that rebels against anything that differs from individual responsibility. Why should I rub shoulders so closely with people whose burdens do not resemble my own? Close contact is unavoidable in urban living quarters. Sharing the elevator on the way down to work conversations force themselves upon you- everything from the neighbor’s crazy party last night that kept you awake to the consternation of the presidential election- is fair game interaction. Perhaps it is this interchange that combines to form the attraction that explains why after this year a majority of people will live in cities (The Economist May 5- May 11, 2007, pg 15). Our souls venture towards the human exchange and yet we fear the vulnerability this venture requires. We travel towards the apex of human influence, hesitantly yet also with the divine sanction of humility.