Unveiling

There is something apocalyptic about this campus in the nighttime.

We are located near a chemical plant and a heavy-machinery factory, so we get plenty of light pollution. On a cloudy night like this one, the southern horizon glows a dull red -- especially when the plant lights its flare.

We also hear strange, inhuman noises. We often hear a sound like a far-off giant's front door slamming. I suspect it comes from the factory. Closer at hand, young men drive through our neighborhood with their car stereos at full power, rattling windows. Sometimes these cars backfire ... but sometimes the sounds we hear come from weapons.

I rarely notice the eeriness of all this during the work week. On a Saturday night, however, a trip outside becomes an adventure. Every faceless human shape that passes, inspires a sense of loneliness. Every locked building suggests wasted potential.

Then I return home and start reading. Tonight, Locke and Rousseau.

Tomorrow, I will go to church. The front wall of the sanctuary at St. Mike's is all glass; the congregation gets a splendid view of deep green pine trees. The altar is covered in white cloth. We recite the creed and pray together, thanking Christ for the morning.

| Posted by Wilson at 22:13 Central | TrackBack
| Report submitted to the Life Desk