Selenelion
On December 10, 2011, shortly after six in the morning, a rich and
famous man named Cecil stood on the walkway of the Golden Gate Bridge. He peered
out at the sunrise to the east. Behind him, on the horizon, the earth’s shadow
nearly covered the eclipsing moon – an impossible event known to astronomers as
a selenelion eclipse. However, Cecil was about to experience his own impossible
event – a miracle.
He thought about his wife. The divorce. His two children – a boy and a
girl. She took them. He was able to keep his two houses. She got to keep the
other four houses including the one in Sicily. His mind raced when he thought
about his exotic sports cars and the classics; and his mind soared when he
thought about his three jets. But not one modern invention could take him away
from the darkness of the depths of the bay which reflected his mind. He thought
about his friends – most of them were so accommodating in their advice
throughout the months of the divorce. But there was no depth. Yet, he was in
control of most of his life – even throughout the divorce. Ironically, nothing
mattered. He thought there was nothing left. He would control when he died.
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| Public Domain (Modified) |
He faced the endless horizon of the ocean. As he leaped from the railing he was deaf to the screams behind
him. Just as his body was parallel to the railing, with arms and legs in a bold
spread-eagle, he froze mid-flight. Not that he froze his thoughts in regret for
the finality of his decision. No. He actually froze midair. In disbelief, he
could see the bay waters below him. Within a fraction of a second, he faded out
of consciousness.
Suddenly awake, although
shaken, he realized he was standing on top of Mount Diablo across the bay into
the next valley. There were hundreds of people scattered about the summit to
the lower parking lot as well as the last steep grade to the upper parking lot.
He attempted to speak to a nearby woman; she did not answer. Various telescopes
and scientific equipment were utilized by a group of people. He approached them
but the conversation proved unsuccessful.
A janitor from the California
State Park approached him. He didn’t know whether to make another attempt at
communication or get out the man’s way. “Good morning Cecil,” the janitor
greeted him with a kind smile.
After silent disbelief, he
responded. “How do you know my name? And no one calls me that.”
“It is the name I gave you.”
“Who in the hell?” his eyes
sent darts of indifference into the janitor’s eyes.
“Why did you want to die?”
“What?” Cecil exclaimed. “How in
God’s name?”
“Come with me,” the janitor
reached out his hand as if giving him an invitation – like it was a “bucket
list” invitation, but more.
He preferred to sling a
colorful metaphor at him, yet without knowing why or how, he touched his hand and
the others vanished. They were alone. “Where? What?” Cecil’s grew more
perplexed and tightened muscles strained his forehead.
“You need as little
distraction as possible right now,” he saw Cecil’s curiosity regarding the
whereabouts of the others. “They are all fine,” the janitor smiled with
confidence. He paused to allow Cecil a moment to calm. As calm as anyone in his
position could be. “Do you know who I am?” the janitor asked.
“I think so. But if I say it,
it will mean I believe in you. I’ve never believed in –” he couldn’t bring
himself to say it.
“Emmanuel. With you. But you
may wish to call me Jesus.”
Cecil darted across the
overlook toward the stairs and stopped. “I’m hallucinating!” He shouted at the
janitor as he grabbed his temple with both hands. “Even if you are real. If you
do exist. Why are you a janitor?”
“Come,” Jesus smiled and sat
on the edge of the half wall.
Cecil approached but remained
standing. “I still don’t believe in you. I had too much to drink last night,” he
lied. He never cared for it. He preferred to remain in control of his faculties.
“I want to show you something,”
Jesus gazed toward the west and pointed at the lunar eclipse which seemed
motionless. “Isn’t it beautiful?” Cecil ignored him.
“I read it’s impossible,” he
stopped and looked at the janitor. “This whole thing is impossible!”
“All things are possible
through me.”
“Are you saying you made this
happen? This?” he pointed to the eclipse. “And this?” he motioned his arms in a
circular fashion to include the two of them.
“I created and have controlled
the science for this beauty,” he paused, and reached his hand out to him, but
Cecil backed up a step and turned away.
He looked back at Jesus and
sighed.
“If you are real, then why did
you bring me here?”
“Perspective. You need
perspective at this time.”
“I can see just fine,” he
shivered, but not from the morning cold.
“Then why do you want to die?”
Cecil hesitated. The silence
was broken by an abrupt wind. In a heighten level of frustration he mocked. “Control!”
he waited for a response, but Jesus just listened. “Look man. I don’t have time
for this!”
Jesus smiled. “Time?”
Cecil thought for a moment and
realized this fantastic experience and for a moment his facial expression
betrayed his beliefs as he acknowledged the person in front of him.
“I have two choices for you,”
Jesus seemed to pierce right through him.
“What the –” he stopped
himself. “I already made mine!” he yelled. He huffed. He looked at the deep
unwavering sincerity on Jesus’ face like a spring of water deep behind his eyes.
“Okay. What?” he conceded.
“I can show you the effect of
your life after today’s tragic event of your death; or its impact should you
choose to live,” Jesus gazed at his eyes. Silence filled the air as the windy
mountaintop eased into a gentle breeze.
Cecil thought for a moment.
Conflicted. He rarely second guessed himself. One of the reasons for his earthly
success. “If you are who you say you are, you already know what I will choose,”
Cecil slung a question back in frustration. “What would you choose?”
Jesus smiled again. “I choose
you.”
He cursed him, but he maintained
control of his circumstances. In defiance he demanded. “Take me back to the
bridge!”
Tears fell from the face of
Jesus, “Are you certain?”
Cecil stared, more like glared
at Jesus. He breathed furiously like a bull about to charge. So heavily, he
hunched over a nearby railing to catch his breath. After he regained his composure,
mostly at any rate, he surrendered and said, “Alright.”
Immediately, they were no
longer on top of Mt. Diablo. Instead, they stood outside a house in Aptos which
overlooked a beach and crashing waves. Jesus held out his arms as an
invitation. “Come with me.”
Cecil took a few steps
forward. He soon realized they both were walking up to the front door of one of
the beach houses. “Who lives here?” Cecil stopped at the door, but Jesus kept
walking. He passed through the door and left Cecil on the doormat. Jesus peeked
back outside.
“Coming?” he reached out for
his hand. Cecil’s face went pale but followed along like a kid cutting in line
at Disneyland. He grabbed the hand of Jesus and they both passed through the
door. Inside, Cecil heard the laughter of children.
“We can’t be here!” he urged
in a whisper. “We’ll be arrested.”
“We are unseen,” Jesus assured
him.
“Whose house is this?” At that
moment, he saw his ex-wife, but she was – old and grey, and astonishingly to
Cecil her eyes were filled with happiness.
Jesus was pleased to say. “It
is one of the many houses I gave you. At this point, it is your only house.”
Cecil’s state of confusion
grew. “You gave?” he stopped himself. “Never mind,” he didn’t want to engage in
battle over that one. They stood in the entry, about to venture into the rest
of the house. It was like a ride he didn’t want to get off.
They stood on the landing as his
ex-wife passed by them on her way to join the laughter of children. “Alina,”
Cecil exclaimed. After seeing his two grown children and who he deduced were
spouses of their own – and two, three, five, no seven children romping about –
he had an unnerving revelation. But he didn’t want to admit it to himself.
“These are yours,” Jesus
smiled at the children.
“Mine?” he gazed about the
room.
Jesus looked upon Cecil with
compassion. “The view is spectacular.”
“Yes it is. Alina and I had
been looking at this house just before –” he stopped. He didn’t want to remind
himself of the divorce.
“No. Your family,” just as
Jesus said it, an old man shuffled down the adjacent hallway. He grabbed the
wooden railing carefully as he traversed the two steps to the lower level and
joined the others. A Christmas tree adorned the dominant corner of the room –
center stage to a plethora of decorations.
“It’s not the same date,” Cecil
remarked under his breath upon discovering a nearby Advent calendar.
The old man leaned down toward
Alina and kissed her before sitting. The youngest of the children were on the
floor playing games, while the others sat talking and laughing about their
afternoon on the beach.
“Is that?” Cecil asked as he pointed
at the old man.
“It is you,” Jesus smiled. The
older Cecil reached for a book nearby and leaned back into the sofa. The smile
of Jesus grew ever more.
“How is this possible?” Cecil
exclaimed.
“You and Alina reconciled and
remarried. She never left you. She loved you – loves you,” Jesus paused.
Cecil noticed the joy in the face
of his older self. His attention was stolen by someone who he surmised could
easily be his adult son with hot beverages in hand – he handed them to two
other ladies similar in age, one he kissed. Cecil was mesmerized like a deer in
headlights.
“Do you see?” Jesus grabbed
his attention as he pointed at the older Cecil.
Cecil stood. He took a few
steps closer to focus down to the lower level. “That’s impossible!” The older
Cecil turned a page of the Bible. The middle-aged Cecil glared back at Jesus
and back again at his older self. “He would, I would never read that book!” He
turned and darted back up the steps and ran out the front door. This time he
turned the knob and opened the door.
He chugged up the hill toward
the abandoned RR tracks swearing and cursing. He marched back down the hill and
slammed the front door behind him. A moot point since no one could hear him. “I
have a brother!” he yelled at Jesus. “You paint such a too-good-to-be-true
picture.” he huffed. “It’s Christmas time! Where’s that bible-thumping baby
brother of mine? Why isn’t he part of this picturesque scene?”
“He is with me,” Jesus
answered with pleasure.
“I don’t see him!”
“In glory,” Jesus smiled.
“With my Father in Heaven.”
“‘In heaven’. Oh – that – means
– he’s – dead.” Cecil responded one slow word after another. “That doesn’t mean
I believe in an afterlife or heaven, or whatever you want to call it,” he
gathered his thoughts, his composure. “How did he die?”
At that moment, an older woman
walked through the front door with an even older woman in arm, and bellowed,
“Hello? The door is open.”
Alina greeted her with similar
enthusiasm. “Come on in Cherie! Kids. It’s your Aunt Cherie – and look who she
brought with her, your Aunt Clara,” she gave them both a hug like a child with
a favorite Christmas present in her arms.
One of the grand-daughters
piped in, “It’s Aunt Claire!” as she added to the hug, “And where’s my favorite
uncle?” the little girl added.
“Your uncle is parking the car
down the street,” Aunt Claire chuckled as she smiled into her grand-daughter’s
eyes and stroked her long blonde hair.
Aunt Cherie helped her older
sister to the living room who refused the assistant like swatting a fly. The
warmth of the scene drew a slight smile on Cecil’s face.
“We’re just enjoying a little
snack and chatting about old times,” she smiled, “Care for a glass of wine?”
Cecil was surprised, “Clara.
She was always the sound one. Probably because she was the oldest,” he turned
his attention to his other sister, “Cherie. I haven’t seen –” he stopped. “— my
sister in ages,” he gulped at air. “She moved to New York with some scumbag who
never treated her right – had her strung out most of the time,” he studied her
for a moment. “If anyone was going to – you know – the family was always afraid
for her,” he looked at Jesus. “She looks good. She even looks happy.”
“You were instrumental in
bringing her back to the family. She turned from her destructive path.”
“I don’t understand.” Cecil eyes widened at this line of conversation, but so the ride continued.
“You introduced her to me,”
Jesus smiled.
“Will you stop –” Cecil lifted
his arms to the sky and pointed at Jesus’ face. “— smiling!” he huffed again. Resigned
momentarily. “What to do you mean?”
“You also introduced all your
grandchildren to me.”
“How? – Oh, never mind!” he
wanted to dart out again. He turned away from Jesus. Turned back. He lifted both
hands to the sides of his head. “And if I had completed my jump – I suppose she
never meets you. I can’t believe I’m saying that!” He released his hands from
his temples as if to open a floodgate of anguish.
Jesus just smiled.
“Whatever—” Cecil paused and
cursed the floor on which Jesus stood. “Whatever it is you think you know, just
say it!”
“You will introduce her to me.
And she will respond to my free gift.”
“Your free gift?” He
volleyed back to Jesus sarcastically. “Oh right!” He looked out to his family.
They seemed happy. He saw his older self gently close his Bible with tears in
his eyes.”
“Gramps! What’s the matter?”
Asked one of his grandchildren, the youngest of girls.
“I was thinking of your Uncle
Carl,” he wiped his tears. “He died years before you were born.”
The little girl hugged the
legs of her Gramps.
Cecil commanded Jesus. “I’ve
seen enough.”
“Perfect love casts out all
fear, my friend,” Jesus softly stated.
“I’m not afraid!” Cecil denied.
“I’m leaving,” Cecil stomped out the front door. Jesus pursued him. Cecil
continued to brood and turned his stomp into a sand-kicking march by the time
he reached the beach. Jesus followed but did not join him. They walked separately
along the shoreline where the waves repeatedly greeted the sand, until they
reached the pier. Cecil turned around to walk back and was greeted by another
welcoming smile from Jesus. Cecil pondered the waves. “I want to know how I can
prevent my brother from dying?”
“There is a greater question
you need to answer.”
Cecil abruptly responded. “I
don’t know!” he started to run but quickly put on the brakes and turned to face
Jesus. “You said ‘all things are possible’ for you.”
“Yes. But in my love I have a
plan. Like your brother, you are a part of my plan.”
“Plan? I have my own plans
thank you very much!”
“Control,” Jesus reminded him.
“What?” he thought. “Yes,
that.”
“Ever since you were a boy.
That’s when you seized control,” the face of Jesus was filled with patience.
“What of it?” his resolve
turned to resistance.
Jesus knew he was just
stubborn. “You controlled your life. Friends. Education. Occupation. Wealth.
Fame. But what good is it to gain the whole world yet forfeit your soul?”
Cecil did not respond aside
from a grimace.
“What frightens you my
friend?” Jesus admired the waves.
Cecil countered the gaze of
Jesus with a grimace, “As much as my brother and I disagreed, I’m afraid of
losing him.”
Jesus said nothing. He waited
and looked Cecil square in the eyes and asked him. “Do you think you are afraid
of losing control?”
Cecil jerked away from Jesus.
But for the first time he listened, not just heard, the words. Jesus began to
saunter down the beach. Cecil followed him. “But I had to rely on the only
person I could trust. Me.” He argued.
“It hurt me to watch your
father leave you – and your family.”
“Everyone leaves,” his voice
cracked.
“I will never leave you. I
will never fail you,” Jesus affirmed.
Cecil stopped. He turned to
his left and sat on the beach. Jesus stopped. He sat next to Cecil. They stared
at the waves. They sat for what seemed like hours. The weight of Cecil’s world
crashed upon him as he sat on the shore. Unlike the ocean, he was shallow –
empty.
Jesus prayed silently. Father
in heaven. He who has eyes, let him see.
The truth sank in further – from
Cecil’s so-called friendships to his fame, and all that he owned. He had been fighting the waves most of his life. “Stop the fight,” he whispered. “Stop
the fight!” he yelled. And yelled it again.
Jesus said. “If I am for you,
who can be against you?”
“What must I do?”
“Surrender,” the voice of
Jesus sounded like an invitation.
Cecil took his eyes off the
waves and saw for the first time the waves of love from Jesus. Jesus stood.
Cecil imitated. Jesus walked toward the water. Cecil followed. He didn’t think
about his expensive suit or shoes as they both entered the water. Jesus in his
janitor uniform smiled at him.
Cecil accepted the smile this
time and nodded in agreement as tears fell from his face.
“A new creation is born,” at
that moment Jesus plunged Cecil into the water. Cecil closed his eyes and
instantly was released from the curse he had allowed to control his life. He
smiled under the water. The love of Jesus fill his heart. As Jesus pulled him
back out of the water Cecil laughed uncontrollably. His heart filled with joy
as he continued to laugh. And laugh.
~
On December 10, 2011, shortly after six in the morning, a rich and
famous man named Cecil stood on the walkway of the Golden Gate Bridge. He
peered out at the sunrise to the east. Behind him, on the horizon, the
eclipsing moon was nearly covered by the earth’s shadow – an impossible event. He
looked down at the waters below and laughed – uncontrollably. People around him
looked at him strangely, but he didn’t care. He enjoyed the miracle around him.
The beauty of the cliffs to the north. The ocean and the eclipse to the west.
The miracle in his heart.
He left behind the destruction he was about to inflict upon himself. He
looked to the north at Vista Point where his Bugatti was parked. Immediately, he
turned and walked south toward San Francisco. He pulled his phone from his coat
pocket and hit a speed-dial. “Sell it all!” he shouted. He waited for the
reaction and ignored the financial advice. “We’re going to do some good in this
world for a change.” He paused but didn’t allow for a complete response. To
make the decision final he hung up the phone and dialed another number. Moments
later he heard the voice of his ex-wife, “Hello Alina,” he smiled. After a
brief pause he asked, “will you meet me where we first met?” he smiled again at
her response.
~
Decades later, Cecil sat with Alina
on Christmas Eve. Among the many red and green decorations and the many lights
which decorated their home in Aptos, his sisters, his daughter, his son and
daughter-in-law, and all his grand-children outmatched the many gifts under the
tree. Cecil closed his Bible with tears in his eyes.
“Gramps! What’s the matter?” asked
one of his youngest granddaughters.
“I was thinking of your Uncle
Carl,” he wiped his tears and smiled at her. “He died many years before you
were born,” the little girl hugged the legs of her Gramps. He gazed at the
miracle of his family.
Aunt Cherie added with
empathy. “Jesus took him home.”
“Yes,” Cecil’s smile grew with
remembrance, “he fulfilled the plan Jesus had for him.”
Aunt Claire smiled with a
satisfaction like savoring the last bite of her favorite dessert – her
husband’s hand in hers.
Alina moved to sit by her
husband and held his hand. “What were you reading?”
Cecil smiled. A quiet peace
overcame the room as he asked for his grandchildren to sit beside him. Another
miracle he thought, as all his energetic grandchildren gathered. He paused to
soak in the moment. “Many years ago –” He looked into his wife’s eyes. “—just
before we remarried, I experienced an impossible event.”
“You’ve told us about the
selenelion eclipse,” his 12-year old grandson struggled to pronounce. “We also learned
about it in school.”
“Yes,” Cecil smiled at him as
he invited him closer. “But – there was a second impossible event which
occurred that morning,” he reached for his Bible and began to read:
“Jesus looked at him and said,
‘How hard is it for the rich to enter the kingdom of God! Indeed it is easier
for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to
enter the kingdom of God.’
“Those who heard this asked,
‘Who then can be saved?’”
“Jesus replied –” His heart
overflowed with joy. ‘What is impossible with man is possible with God.’”
