CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: The Light
John sat at the waterfront.
It was late. Many of the crowd had left. Some had stayed on – and set up tents, on the grassland. A few, John noticed, were still trying to text their friends or family – struggling with the unreliable network.
John looked out across the sea. Rangitoto, the volcanic cone, was a dark shadow now. Stars, and moon, lit up the dark sky.
What had happened, that day? Something remarkable; something historic. Joshua had spoken, and the people had listened. They had heard him. They had seen him. They were following him.
The water had receded, from the base of the grassy hill. A little sand was exposed, now. John sat on the edge of the grass, looking down at the sand – seeing a few tiny crabs scamper away. Then he noticed someone sit beside him.
It was Joshua.
John looked at his face. He was tired. It was late. John smiled at him.
“Quite a day,” he said.
“Yes,” Joshua replied. “That’s for real.”
“They really listened to you!” John said, and Joshua smiled sadly.
“They listened, but they don’t really understand,” he said. “Not yet.”
John searched him – the brown eyes, full of hidden meaning.
“The metaphors,” John said. “A tsunami. A war.”
“Big things are ahead.”
“I get that, but…but what did you mean by the great ‘Ally’?” Now John trembled. “What did you mean by the ‘ultimate weapon’?”
Joshua’s face deepened in sadness. “Anyone who wants to find the truth will find it, John.”
“What truth?” John asked.
The brown eyes were on him. “Do you really want to know?”
John swallowed. He glanced again across to the dark shape of Rangitoto. The volcano was dormant now, as all the forty plus cones on which Auckland was built. Dormant, now – but explosive only five hundred years ago. They were due for another eruption…
Do you really want to know?
Fleetingly John closed his eyes. Then he opened them again.
“I’m afraid,” he said.
“I know,” Joshua gently replied. “But you don’t need to be afraid. Not if you stay with me.”
And now Joshua took John’s hand.
Discomfort filled John, at the physical touch with another man – but John knew Joshua meant nothing sexual in the act. It was something else Joshua sought: an entirely different kind of intimacy.
Something flooded over him, like a rushing tide: like wind, which passed right through him. And then, suddenly, in a haze, John saw a massive white sun rising behind Rangitoto. Light filled the sky, and the land – light that passed over and through everything in its path. Joshua’s hand gripped him tightly – John shook hard, as the light passed through his own body: through his own soul. He cried out, as he felt his body being changed: as he felt his soul being changed.
“What is it?” he cried. All of his hearing was somehow filled by the light. All of his smell, and taste, and touch, was consumed by it. The Light wholly owned him – the Light was wholly joined to him.
“Not what,” Joshua said. “Who.”
And now Joshua let go of his hand.
Agony took him. Darkness rose up in his heart: darkness that could not exist in the light. Hatred, selfishness, murderous rage – where did it come from? Why? It was a purging! A purging, from the depths of his soul! It arose, and it was too strong, and he couldn’t control it: couldn’t overcome it. He couldn’t hide it: it was totally exposed, in the Light – it was fatal, in the Light.
Confused, dismayed, he groped around for Joshua. He was dying! He was dying. Joshua’s hand returned – and now John saw, in a haze, the darkness, creeping, as a disease, from John to Joshua: infecting Joshua.
“No,” John gasped, desperately trying to pull back his arm. “No!”
But Joshua’s grip was stronger on him than his own retreat. The darkness spread to him, and John found himself relieved. Bewildered, he saw that his body, his own soul, was lit.
Joshua’s face, in the haze, contorted. He looked ready to vomit. He turned his face into the Light, stretched out his arms, breathed deeply – his hand still grasped John – and then the darkness was gone.
All that was left was Light. John reached his right hand out to touch it, even as he still gripped onto Joshua with his left. The Light felt tangible – physical energy: warm, sweet, fragrant, musical; all the colours of the rainbow combined…And, beyond this, more…
Trembling, John reached further into the Light. Who…? Who…?
“Atua,” Joshua said. “God.”
“God…?” John gasped. God? No! It couldn’t be…
And then the vision disappeared.
Darkness surrounded him. It was night-time. The water was still, in starlight. Rangitoto was silent.
John pulled his knees up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them. He was a child, now! Only a child.
Joshua was next to him. John felt himself beginning to cry – overwhelmed. Joshua’s hand was on his shoulder – only a human hand.
“It’s all right,” Joshua murmured. “You’re safe.”
“Safe…?” John whispered. “What does that even mean?”
“I am the Bridge,” Joshua murmured gently. “I am the Way into the Light.”
“The Ark,” John muttered, trembling. “The Ark, for the Flood.”
“Children trust,” Joshua murmured, “and so do the most adult of adults.”
“You said you would teach us to swim.”
“Faith is the swimming, John,” Joshua said. “Trust is the way for all of humanity to survive.”
John stared down at the sand at his feet. Faith? Not only an empty faith – not only trust for the sake of trusting. A specific faith – a specific trust. Trust in the one worthy of trust.
“Father,” he whispered – a child, trembling, in Joshua’s midst. Joshua’s arm came around his shoulders now.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I am gentle, you see? I am gentle, and you can rest here with me.”
John closed his eyes. The vision had been massive to him – overwhelming all of his senses: overwhelming his body, and his heart. What was that Light? Who was the Light?
“I am the way,” Joshua murmured to him. “Rest, John: it’s late. Rest.”
And his hand came to John’s head – then Joshua rose up and wandered away, and John missed him, and was alone.
The moon reflected in the ocean water: a pale reflection of what John had just seen. He gazed at it – for a long time just stared at it. Then he was joined by another.
“Are you okay?” It was Rachel.
John glanced up at her pretty face – straight brown hair, and blue eyes. How could he possibly, possibly begin to explain what had just happened to him?
“I…” He gazed at her face, gave up on the effort, and looked away again to the ocean.
Rachel sat down next to him. She was silent – he appreciated her sensitivity. He began to appreciate her presence, too. Then he spoke.
“Joshua,” he whispered. “He…he just showed me something.”
“What?” Rachel naturally asked.
“I…I find it hard to describe.”
Her pretty face broke into a gentle smile. “I’m not surprised,” she said. “He’s quite an enigma.”
He smiled at her. “Yes,” he said, “but he’s so much more again.”
“What?” she asked again. “Try to find the words.”
“Why?” John asked, lightly joking. “So you can write them down? Part of your research?”
“Maybe,” she said, a little playfully – looking strangely the child alongside him.
“Quite the scientist.”
“Reality brings me joy.”
“Yes…” John murmured, looking again across the ocean. “I think we might have that in common.”
He was holding her hand. How had that happened? He started, and looke
d at her face, and began to stutter an apology – but she shook her head, and slipped her fingers between his.
This touch was very different from that of Joshua.
Flushing, he looked at her. He felt like a school boy – he had never been involved with a woman. She withdrew her fingers, grasped his hand, and then turned, shoulder to shoulder, with him, looking out across the ocean.
“Tell me,” she said, “what did you see?”
And suddenly his words began to flow. “I saw light,” he whispered, “rising up, as the sun, over the horizon. Powerful light; personal light. The source of life; the threat of death. I was consumed, and then…”
“Yes?”
“Joshua saved me.”
He looked at her, now – grasping her hand strongly, now fully adult. Her eyes looked perplexed: the eyes of a scientist.
“What do you say to that?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she replied.
“Does science have a place here?” he asked, “in the realm of the unknown? In a realm beyond what we ourselves can see? Does science have a role to play?”
“I do have a role to play,” she whispered, “as a partner in the quest for truth.”
John’s heart pounded, at the words – he saw her: suddenly wanted her.
“Yes,” he said. “Yes.”
Desire filled him – but not only desire. Impulsively, he pulled her to himself – kissing her, embracing her. Her arms were around him, now! Her kiss was for him!
He pulled back, suddenly embarrassed, looking around them – but no-one had noticed, in the dark. Only one was watching. It was Joshua himself – smiling knowingly.
Science, and…and what? He looked again across the ocean.
“What was the Light?” Rachel asked, and John struggled again.
“I…find it hard to say.”
“Energy?”
“Yes, but more.”
“More?”
He swallowed, now, and then spoke. “Spirit,” he said. “I think it was spirit.”
“Spirit…” her face looked thoughtful. “Spirit, and science. Together? Why not? If spirit, is energy – if spirit is light.”
“More than energy,” John said. “More than light.”
“More?”
“I…” He struggled, painfully, to confess what was rising up within him. “God,” he finally said. “I think it was God.”
Rachel’s eyes were on him. “God?” she said, and he began to writhe.
“I’ve never believed in God!” he said. “Not since childhood! I’ve never seen him! But now! Now…”
He felt himself surrendering his final defences – surrendering in the fight.
“I saw him” he whispered to Rachel. “I saw him, with my own eyes.”
“Evidence…” Rachel murmured thoughtfully. “Empirical evidence.”
“I can’t explain it, but I saw him, and felt him, with all of my senses. It was overwhelming, and…Joshua was the only way to stay.”
Rachel was silent, alongside him. Then she pulled out a notebook, and a pen.
“Are you serious?” John asked, nudging her. “I was joking when I mentioned your research before.”
“You saw him,” Rachel said.
“I know, but it was a vision, you know? Not my physical eyeballs?”
She shrugged silently. “I’ll take down the information as it happened,” she said. “The reader can decide what to do with it.”
“A true scientist,” John muttered. “The facts, pure and simple. The devil is in the interpretation.”
Rachel smiled wryly, looking down into her notes – and John described for her, now, point by point what he had seen.