In blazing colors and bold type, they clamor for the attention of any passerby, ever poised to bewitch with transcendent power. Having sacrificed body and soul, they live to fight with nothing to lose and nothing to fear.
And what of those passersby?
Paralyzed with the fear of symbolic armageddon, they throw away their bodies, their very souls, and unite with symbols upon whose arguments they can rely to guarantee eventual victory. There are no more persons in this world. Just flag-bearers. Pick a side and arm yourself with the spoils of "free thinking."
And yet, beneath the bold vociferation I hear earthy sounds and feel earthy rhythms. I look around and I see faces. FACES. More than collections of organs and flesh, these faces unwittingly challenge me, demand me to be for them, to see beyond their flags and slogans. And I, being human--how can I refuse? Is this not the work of God?