Monday, March 10, 2008
The Presence of God
The Tower of Babel still stood, invisible to the mortal eye but nevertheless stretching all the way to the vault of Heaven from its foundations in the fiery pits of Hell. It had taken ten million souls almost a thousand years to build and now Lucifer trudged up to his creator. It was not the chains and tortures of Abaddon that made his existence a torment but this annual three-day trip knowing, when he arrived at the top, that he would feel the loss of his separation from God as keenly as he had on the first morning after the Fall. The Vault of Heaven was as bright and featureless as forever, the choirs of angels circling overhead singing their hallelujahs over and over as he approached the insane creature still drooling over the files and papers of last year’s report. “I’m sorry,” he said to the spinning moral compass chained by seven seals to the centre of creation, “but however lonely your heart I cannot grant your freedom.” He dropped the report with the others and, wiping the tears from his eyes, left the presence of God.