It was only a matter of days ago that we emerged from a tunnel. It was a rather dank and caliginous place and we were glad when we walked out into the sunlight. Now, it seems that we have stepped into another tunnel; but this time we are hardly the only wayfarers trekking through.
The first tunnel that we found ourselves traveling through was cylindrical in shape with an abandoned asphalt roadway that we used as a walkway. Each of the three of us entered separately - a few days apart - but we quickly found each other and began wayfaring as a team. The ceiling of this underground passageway was approximately 20 feet above the walkway. The tunnel's ceiling was equipped with light fixtures - none of which were functioning - and yet there was a small amount of natural light seeping in from somewhere. The width of this channel was likewise around 20 feet. The walls and the ceiling were gray concrete and both exhibited varying levels of disrepair, with rivulets of runoff water leaking through in a few spots.
We couldn't help but notice that in ten or so locations along the sides of the tunnel were piles covered with brown canvas tarps. The piles were malodorous and judging by the shapes and sizes we were certain that dead human adults - between 1 and 3 per pile - were beneath these aforementioned canvas coverings. But, as it were, none of us felt particularly inspired to lift the tarps for a peek. It is only now that I am beginning to wonder why these bodies were covered over and left.
After the passage of 16 days we emerged tired and with minor abrasions but otherwise unscathed. Not one of the three of us remembers consuming any food or water and yet we were sustained. For most of the 16 days, we pursued a light in the distance that we knew was the exit point. At times we lost sight of the exit point, but invariably it was always re-targeted and alas we surfaced.
After a number days that we have lost count of, we find ourselves tunnel-bound again. The previous tunnel experience has prepared us for where we are now; albeit in a different type of underpass. This time it is a subway tunnel that we are traversing through and we are hardly alone.
There are hundreds of others with us. Some are dressed in business attire while others are barely dressed at all. These are people of various sizes, shapes, races, styles, and economic strata. We can't help but think that we are somewhere in Manhattan. We quickly realize that the trains are not running - even though we aren't there to catch one. A single train is parked at a platform and it is devoid of passengers and crew; and it goes without saying that the doors to the cars are closed and no one can board. While there is some frustration amongst those who are here with us in the subway tunnel, people are generally well-behaved and resigned to the fact that they won't be riding a train today. Many have begun walking away en masse, heading away from the front of the train in a direction that we are not sure of; although it feels like north. What is peculiar is that no one appears to be heading back up the stairs to the street level. The vast majority are walking away from the train, seemingly with a destination in mind. The three of us begin to walk with the flow.
I don't know what has brought us here but I do believe that is prophetic. While we are here, whatever has happened has not happened yet. We are with hundreds of others merely walking away. Again, while there is a level of frustration as individuals expected to go to work and to other destinations, there is order and even some good natured laughter. There are police officers scattered about and they seem to only watch as we walk by. While I cannot say for sure what has taken place, we are not afraid - but it is something and it is at street level. The Holy Spirit surrounds the three of us and we praise Jesus with our walks and with our words.
In Christ's Service,
Jim
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