The Dome

copyright 2007 by Stefan Bolz

I stand inside a high dome. The surface of its walls are smooth, black, with tiny little lights covering them. Like the night sky with millions of stars, blinking, shimmering against the dark ceiling and illuminating every inch of the dome in soft light. I stand with my back against the wall. On the other side of the dome, about 300 feet across, stands a figure. I cannot make out who it is as I look at it. My arms are stretched out sideways and pinned against the wall as if held by a magnetic force of some kind. It is impossible for me to move them. From a distance, I must look either as if I am crucified or as if I am welcoming whoever comes to me with open arms.

The figure starts walking toward me - not fast, just steadily. I can feel waves of love emanating from it. It is actually not a feeling at all. It is an experience so all encompassing that everything else, my past, my present and future, my identity, my self as I know it, has lost its meaning, without leaving a vacancy. The boundaries of "me" and "I" are no longer in existence. Tears rise up within me, push themselves into my eyes and run down my cheeks. Steadily the figure comes closer. I become aware, suddenly, that I am trying to move my arms. I’m trying to get them off the wall. With every step, my attempts become more intensified. Now I see that the figure is Jesus. He is half way across the large dome and the closer he comes, the more I try to get… my arms… to MOVE!!!

Suddenly they are free and I wrap them around myself in an embrace as if to protect myself. As I do this, the very moment my arms loose contact with the wall, all the lights in the dome, the thousands and thousands of little stars, go out. Complete darkness engulfs me. I stand, my arms wrapped around my own body in complete blackness. There is no sound. I can’t see him or hear him any longer. Pitch black.

It feels oddly comforting. Cold, suspended somehow, but strangely comfortable. But I can’t stay like this. I’m not even here. Where is here? Too long have I lingered in the dark, too long have I hoped for the light to come.

Slowly, carefully, as if not to disturb the air around me, I open my arms. It is as if I am opening my self to the darkness around me. As I reach the point where my arms are almost stretched out, the magnetic force pulls them back toward the wall. The pull is firm and controlled. It does not hurt at all. The moment my arms touch the surface of the wall, the lights come back on, all at once. There is no loud noise. No flash of lightning. The lights just come back on and everything is illuminated.

The light itself is soft. Kind. Gentle. Almost nurturing. But make no mistake. For within its reach, there is absolutely no place for me to hide. So, I stand there, arms open, looking at Jesus who slowly starts walking toward me again. Waves of love. I am sobbing, at times seeing only an outline of color and light and not him. As he comes closer, I turn my head away. As if sitting in a dentist chair and just before the hand holding the high speed drill reaches my mouth, I turn my head, trying to avoid the unavoidable.

“Please. Don’t come closer.” I beg him. “Stay where you are.” The waves of love are overwhelming. Vast. Incomprehensible. And utterly unmanageable. He stops, stands still. “Go back, ”I say. I so much want to pull my arms from the wall again but somehow I don’t. “Just stay there. Don’t move!!!”

I look at him 30 feet away, tears streaming down my face. I can hear myself whispering, “No, please, no, I’m not ready. Not at all ready for you or for what you represent. I’m not ready, I’m not ready, I’M NOT READY!!!”

And with that, and cutting through the intense love, pushing it away, forcing it to stand down, there is suddenly sadness, so complete, leaving no space for anything else, and piercing me like a thousand knifes.

And so I stand, under the stars, my back against the wall, sadness clenching my chest, unable to let him in, let love be what it is, accept it, become it.

How long I will stand here, I do not know.

How long is one moment in eternity?