One day I was walking down a deserted alley in a very poor neighborhood. There was a large trash heap along the narrow path, and as I was about to pass it I saw something stirring in the trash, something about the size of a large dog, but I knew that there could be no dogs about in such a poor neighborhood. whatever it was sprang forth all at once right into my path. It moved like an immense spider, with the head of a man but no limbs save stumps where the legs and arms should have been, grinning strangely at me. I was stricken with fright at this horrible sight and turned immediately around to flee. But as I retreated I heard a human voice behind me, an indescribably beautiful voice, singing a hymn of praised to the Lord Shiva, celebrating the beauty of existence. Awestruck in the presence of this hierophany, I turned and saw the spider-man singing, a divine voice emerging from the midst of utter wretchedness. I knew then that in my heart I had just denied the humanity of a living person, and that this was my lesson. Ashamed of my fear and repulsion, I pledged never again to allow them to overcome me or to deny the humanity of a person again. I was connected to the spider-man.
Heinz Pagels (1939-1988) in Chapter Fourteen, The Dreams of Reason, 1988, Simon and Schuster