In the world of long ladders and staircases, one stands out in my memory: The seemingly endless escalator that begins, buried fifteen stories underground, by the Cuatro Caminos subway platform and that finally emerges to the sights of Madrid’s blue sky and dusty buildings. I can still picture myself as a child, standing at the bottom of the staircase, peering upwards but unable to see the top. There was something disconcerting about it: its steps emerging as if by magic out of the metal grid on the flood, its size and scope, and eerie green light that would glow up from between the cracks as you took your first step onto the moving stairway.
In my mind, the image of Jacob’s ladder has always been some version of this metro escalator. The description of angels going up and down fits right into a busy commuter subway. I can picture Jacob standing at the bottom between the two escalators while the rush hour masses flow past him in each direction. If standing by a subway escalator, surrounded by a stream of humanity, used to make me feel small, how much smaller must have Jacob felt standing in that cosmic gateway?
And yet, I’ve always found the image of Jacob's ladder comforting. It pleasing to think of those heavenly commuters. I like how quotidian and commonplace the scene seems. In my mind, these angelic travelers are very businesslike: places to go, souls to see, things to do. The civil servants of “the Kingdom.” So, even if the image of Jacob’s vast escalator makes one feel small, I cannot say that it makes me feel forgotten. The stairway proves that. Heaven is solidly connected to the small space-soaring rock that we live on. It is an overwhelming honor to have that kind of connection to the spiritual world. It is a grace that makes the commonplace holy somehow. There is a holiness to our very existence that is so easily forgotten.
If I could keep my eyes away from straining to see the top of the ladder and took a look at where I am standing... who knows what I would see? Perhaps I would notice that one of those divine workers has peeled off from the stream of travelers and has decided to wait with me. Who knows? Maybe I would notice that the ladder seems to be everywhere I look, connecting every step I take with the divine. Perhaps I, like Jacob, would finally learn to exclaim: "How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God; this is the gate of heaven."
In my mind, the image of Jacob’s ladder has always been some version of this metro escalator. The description of angels going up and down fits right into a busy commuter subway. I can picture Jacob standing at the bottom between the two escalators while the rush hour masses flow past him in each direction. If standing by a subway escalator, surrounded by a stream of humanity, used to make me feel small, how much smaller must have Jacob felt standing in that cosmic gateway?
And yet, I’ve always found the image of Jacob's ladder comforting. It pleasing to think of those heavenly commuters. I like how quotidian and commonplace the scene seems. In my mind, these angelic travelers are very businesslike: places to go, souls to see, things to do. The civil servants of “the Kingdom.” So, even if the image of Jacob’s vast escalator makes one feel small, I cannot say that it makes me feel forgotten. The stairway proves that. Heaven is solidly connected to the small space-soaring rock that we live on. It is an overwhelming honor to have that kind of connection to the spiritual world. It is a grace that makes the commonplace holy somehow. There is a holiness to our very existence that is so easily forgotten.
If I could keep my eyes away from straining to see the top of the ladder and took a look at where I am standing... who knows what I would see? Perhaps I would notice that one of those divine workers has peeled off from the stream of travelers and has decided to wait with me. Who knows? Maybe I would notice that the ladder seems to be everywhere I look, connecting every step I take with the divine. Perhaps I, like Jacob, would finally learn to exclaim: "How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God; this is the gate of heaven."
2 comments:
I've never imagined Jacob's ladder as an escalator with commuters on their way somewhere. After this post, every time I get on a long escalator I'll think about it. Thanks.
It's interesting to compare this vision of the way the divine communicates and interacts with humanity with the idea that humans had to communicate and interact with God in Gen 11 (the tower of Babel). God's plans for us are so much greater than our plans for him.
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