Holy Ground

And it came to pass, as thou drewest near unto the place of thy departure, that thou camest upon a barrier, and a long line of people, and beyond them an arch that stood alone, and officers upon either hand in the livery of the place; and there was a voice.

And the voice called unto thee, saying, Come forward. And thou camest. And it said, Draw not nigh in the manner thou art; put off thy shoes from off thy feet. And thou didst put off thy shoes, there in the sight of all, and set them in a grey tray.

And it said further, Put off also thy belt, wherewith thou art girded; and thy coat from thy shoulders; and empty thou thy pockets of every coin and key and small thing; and take the watch from off thy wrist, and lay down that which is in thy hands. And thou stoodest at the last stripped of all that was upon thee, in thy stocking feet upon the cold floor, holding nothing; and thy shoes and thy belt and thy every possession were borne away from thee upon the belt, into the mouth of the machine, to be looked through by strangers.

And thou passedst through the arch alone, with thy hands lifted up and empty, and it searched thee; and if so much as a coin remained hidden upon thee, it cried out, and thou wast drawn aside, and hands passed over thy body, and thou didst prove thyself harmless before thou couldest go on.

For at the burning bush the ground was holy, and Moses put off his shoes because the Presence was there, and the place was charged, and no man could stand shod before it. And here also thou puttest off thy shoes, and emptiest thyself of all thou carriest, and passest trembling through the threshold with thy hands raised — but not for holiness. Here it is not reverence that strips thee, but suspicion; not a Presence that halteth thee, but the fear that thou thyself art the danger; and the ground is not holy, but only the floor of a great hall, where every traveller alike is made to stand barefoot and empty and afraid, and to prove by his nakedness that there is no harm in him.

The same posture, exactly. The shoes put off. The self laid bare. The trembling passage through the arch. At the bush it meant: thou art in the presence of something greater than thou; be reverent. Here it meant: thou art suspected; be compliant. And so we take off our shoes before the machine as Moses took them off before God, and feel, dimly, far down, the old solemnity of the act — the stripping, the barefoot standing, the going through — turned now toward no holiness whatsoever, only the grey trays, and the arch, and the officers, and the flat voice that saith again, to the next, and the next: Come forward. Remove your shoes.

It may be so. It may not.