The City, a Desert

I saw a book in our bookstore at the seminary called "The Desert a City", or something like this. I can't remember if that is the exact title, but it sounds right. I haven't read the book, as you may have guessed, but I have some theories about what the book might concern.

Today, my family took a trip into the city. That is, we took the train into New York City. It was an adventure, I suppose, and I should have enjoyed it, and in a sense I did. Unfortunately, it was difficult for anyone in my direct presence to see that I was enjoying myself as I had a very serious look on my face for most of the trip. This was coupled with the fact that I was not speaking much, except to gruffly address my wife and kids.

I find the city to be enjoyable in the same way that some folks find cave diving or participating in a triathalon to be enjoyable. It is a concerted effort. It is hard. It requires strength and energy. In other words, most people would say that I despise visiting the city. They would say, "Look at yourself! You are angry and tense!" Au contraire, mon frere.

I love the city! Who could remained unmoved by the sheer audacity of the man-made towers of Babel surrounding him everywhere he turns. What sensible person doesn't jump at the chance of being constantly subjected to violations of personal space that the NYC subways provide on a constant basis? And the noise, the rhythm of the city, the unending din of progress and the human spirit! I love the city!

The city is a desert in so many ways. It is a distraction and a turning away from God toward man. It is a crucible where a man is confronted by demons and passions of all sorts. It is the home address and headquarters for the arena and the spiritual battle. The city is like a desert. The kind of desert that St Mary of Egypt knew all about.

But it is a place full of faces, some of which are so beautiful and open and friendly to strangers, willing to chat and show love so quickly and easily that I feel deep shame at the walls I build around myself in order to keep others out. I build these walls to protect myself, to make myself invulnerable to the hecklers and to mistakes, in order to feel less like a 'tourist' and more like a cool-as-a-cucumber native (even though it is more than obvious that I am no native to beautiful NYC). I am a self-lover and wall-builder. I am a coward and a bully. I am a prideful, arrogant fool who decided to shoot first and ask questions later.

And the city taught me this.