High Places

High Places

I love this city because it is filled with splendid white monuments to what can be, what could be, what should be. I loathe it because I feel an almost physical sensation on my skin of the greed and lust for power, of the pettiness that divides us, of the ambition that may yet destroy us, of the ignorance that mocks the splendid white monuments. They are, as Christ described, "like whitewashed tombs which indeed appear beautiful outwardly, but inside are full of dead men's bones and all uncleanness". It is Camelot inhabited by Barbarians. You may think I contrive for affect but I mean it quite literally, often, most often, when I am out and about in this glorious shining monument of a city, there is a phrase, a single poignant phrase that invades my thoughts, or perhaps is whispered in my ear, I cannot say which, but it echoes in my mind: "spiritual wickedness in high places". That's all. I have no further commentary, except to say, please do not misunderstand me. It is neither left nor right, conservative or liberal, Democrat or Republican, or even Tea Party. It is this blessed, cursed city that rises so high and falls so short. Like Abraham, I seek a city whose builder and maker is God.

© 2015 Joseph E. Fountain