... in skyscrapers
On my way to and from work the motorway flyover provides a panoramic view of the outskirts of the city.
Each day I am struck anew and gladdened by the the site of a clutch of church spires scattered amongst the mass of rooftops. Sadly, nearing the city centre any intricately carved and beautiful spire pointing heavenwards becomes dwarfed by the city’s many-storied buildings.
This evening as I listened to Richard Strauss’s Oboe Concerto I imagined the myriad of clear notes rising up into the cathedral’s vaulted roof, through the painted stucco, up into the graceful stone spire and upwards to God. And I knew that no matter how tall our commercial city buildings grow God’s houses will ever be conduits for prayer and praise.