JESUS ON THE CLOUDS

Thinking about the state of current human affairs, Jesus takes a walk on a heavenly cloud. Some souls join him there and he asks them what happiness means to them. The story contains life stories.

THE PHOTO HERE TO THE RIGHT IS OF HERBERT EYRE MOULTON (1927 - 2005) AND HIS WIFE GUN KRONZELL (1930 - 2011) AND THEIR IRISH SHEEPDOG FREDDIE (1960 - 1973), IN A STUDIO PHOTO TAKEN IN 1971 DURING THE CLIMAX OF THEIR FAME AS THE SINGING COUPLE (Herb and Gun are mentioned in the following story.) Jesus walked the clouds that day. He had seen so many of the incarnated souls walk the beaches of the worlds feeling as philosophical as he felt right now. They had been inspired by him and his difficult times toward the end of his Earthly existance. So, accordingly, Jesus walked the clouds and hoped to inspire some joy in people’s hearts. It wasn’t unhappiness he felt, though. He was thinking. Earth seemed to have problems with its population, especially those who were found bickering. Warfare, struggles. Many of them violent. The Middle East, Syria, Ukraine, terrorism that really wasn’t terrorism, corruption, selfish financial interests. People lying to each other. That was a big problem. Attacking large buildings and saying it was the terrorists, when it was the own government. Internet communication forums that officially were designed to help people communicate, but in fact were inofficial human cartographies of the New World Order. Banks. Money. Oil. Greed. Love could heal. Love would heal. Love should heal. Arrogance seemed to be a problem. That and the fact that people believed that religions couldn’t work together. In fact, he had been so tolerant during his life on Earth that it must have been obvious to everyone that he wanted to be open to everyone and everything. Apparantly not. The religion founded on his name and the name of his father had many really good representatives. However, many bad ones, as well. He had even heard comments like: “The Christian God is a jealous God. He doesn’t like Buddha.” Nothing could be further from the truth. God has inspired Buddha to found his religion. The concentration on the human soul itself was the reason why God had inspired Buddha to find eternity. God knew that everyone was different, so he created different ways for the people to pray to him. Many people still misunderstood him. Love was the answer. And so, Jesus walked the clouds that day, hoping to inspire people to love each other more. The hope came from souls in heaven. They breathed some joy into human hearts, it seemed. Happiness. Jesus was happy that there was someone that actually felt strong enough to inspire love and create something new. Inspiration. Enthusiasm. Respect. Words of love. Happiness. Jesus sat down on the cloud, looking down on that planet. Its beauty radiant, its seas still blue, its fish still not extinct. Happiness. Maybe the solution lay in happiness. Mutual happiness. Happiness that could be shared, happiness that actually spread like rings on the water. Normal happiness. Happiness sharing creativity and love. Not happiness that was based on pushing other people down. If they tried to make more people happy, inspire joy, so to speak, then maybe the humans would not make war so often. As he sat there, another soul came flying over, its aura a bright shining red and blue. The soul sat down on the cloud next to Jesus, joining Jesus in his quest to work on a solution for the blue planet. Jesus looked over at the soul that had come to join him. “Hello there,” Jesus sang. “You are ...” “Herbie,” the soul said. “Born on July 15th, 1927. Herbert Eyre Moulton. That was my name in my last life. I used to be an actor, a singer, an author, a teacher. I spent my life reading and writing and singing. Oh, yes. I loved history and astronomy, too.” “A Renaissance Man.” “Yes.” Jesus patted the soul on his aura’s shoulder. “That sounds good. My kind of guy,” Jesus answered, looking down again, sinking deep into thought for a moment, looking down at the seas and the countries and the mountains and the deserts. “Maybe you can help me with this one, Herbie.” “I’d be glad to,” Herbie answered. Jesus pointed down toward the planet that swayed and swirled there, so peaceful and tranquil. “That planet needs help and I think I know where to find it.” Jesus looked over at Herbie. “When were you happiest in your life, Herbie?” Jesus asked, his gaze almost penetrating his soul. “I mean, when was your happiness so great that you felt that you could share it with the entire world?” Herbie looked down at the blue planet, a planet where his son still lived and worked, nourishing his family, making a living, creating art, perfecting his craft. “Whenever I could spend good quality time with my family,” Herbie said. “Christmas parties, the trips to Denmark with my son Charlie, singing with my wife Gun, planning a project, evenings with games and pop-corn with my dear ones. Those were the times when I felt like a really mattered.” Herbie laughed, feeling the soft cloud under his aura tickle his spiritual ebonies and ivories, his soul as musical as a piano. “I remember how my son and I sat watching a movie, eating pop-corn and crying, just because the movie was so touching. Togetherness. Love. Telling each other that we loved each other. Not being afraid to be sentimental.” Jesus nodded, understanding what Herbie meant. “Do you think that humanity could benefit from more happiness? That if we gave everyone a good partner, with whom he or she could spend time with, then we could at least reduce the plague of war? Turn Earth into an even nicer place.” Herbie shrugged. “It’s worth a try.” Another soul emerged, its yellow and blue light a mirror of the Swedish origin of its latest life. “Gun,” Herbie mused, embracing the soul, Herbie with his red and blue aura embracing Gun with her yellow and blue one. “This is my wife, Jesus. Gun Kronzell-Moulton. We spent almost forty years down on Earth together. We met in Hannover, Germany in 1966 and then spent years and years singing together. Our son is still down there.” “Hi,” Jesus said, stretching forward his hand and shaking Gun’s hand. “We are just discussing happiness and how that could change the fate of the world. Maybe we should give everyone someone to love, or at least enough love. Maybe that will limit the events they call wars to a minimum. Maybe we should make it clear to everyone that love is unconditional and that it doesn’t really matter where love comes from, only that it is honest.” Gun nodded. “That seems like a good idea.” “When were you happiest during your latest life, Gun?” “When I told my son good night stories. When I sang with my husband and son in the Swedish Church on Christmas Eve masses. When I directed plays. When I improvised a theatrical scene with my son in Vienna, creating nice characters like the crazy Lord Batterbaum or the shy farmer Erik Karlsson from Slätafly. My son became such a good actor through those theatrical improvisations. It was cool to see him grow as a person and as an actor simultaneously. Going to my home town Kalmar to visit my mother. Laughing with my friends and relatives and spending my evenings talking about old times with friends, looking at friends and drinking a sparkling glass of white wine. Sitting by the piano with old friends and singing old tunes. Spending evenings with my Swedish relatives, eating good food, laughing until the sun went down. That was me. Singing Brünhilde in Wagner’s The Ring was fun, too.” Jesus smiled, his face now beaming with joy. A third soul came flying over toward that cloud, a cloud that now seemed to radiate joy. The joy received a very bright yellow tinge, a strong light that surrounded and penetrated it. The soul sat down on the cloud next to Herbert Moulton, Gun Kronzell and Jesus. “Hello there,” Jesus mused. “We’re just sitting here, talking about happiness. Any ideas?” The soul laughed, picking up his trumpet and playing a few bars of a song that everyone new. When the first bars had echoed out into the plains of heaven, Gun and Herb joined in, Jesus started singing, as well. Soon, an entire chorus of angels joined in. Eden was positively swinging. When the soul had finished playing his song, he stretched forward his hand and introduced himself. “My name is Bengt-Åke Kronzell, Gun’s brother.” He gestured toward his sister. “My sis’ here could never speak my name correctly, so she called me Båkke. That’s pronounced Bohkke. So, that became my nickname after that. I loved that. Somy grandson became Little Bohkke. I was Big Bohkke. When the Saints Go Marching In was always one of our favorite songs. We used to play it with our big band Resårbandet.” “That song became famous through Satchmo’s work,” Jesus said. “Written by James Milton Black and Katherine Purvis in 1896, right?” Båkke nodded. “Yeah. You know, I worked as a teacher. But I kept on playing my trumpet all the way toward the end of my last life. It really gave me great happiness. That and telling people about a song that was written during a thunder storm in my home town of Mönsterås in 1885. The guy that wrote it was a 26-year-old preacher named Carl Boberg.” Inspired by these words of joy, the soul that had been Carl Boberg himself arrived with Louis “Satchmo” Armstrong by his side. The two souls embraced, singing his song, laughing and joking. Satchmo picked up his heavenly trumpet and began. That brought on the chorus. Soon enough, heaven was back in swing, bringing Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, Sammy Davis and Ella Fitzgerald in to jazz the whole hullaballoo up. Finally, the entire crowd bounced down on the cloud, a beautiful white cloud that grew bigger and more beautiful by the minute, with the people on it laughing and singing. The citizens of Earth noticed the cloud now. A very bright one that didn’t seem to block the sun, but give it more power to shine. Funny, how such a thing was possible. The cloud, in fact, allowed the sun to peek through, the rays shining down past it onto the surface. A few new souls arrived, making the cloud now beam with golden joy. Herbert’s mother Nellie Brennan Eyre-Moulton, great-granddaughter of the royal Barons of Eyre Court, lover of opera music and award winning inventor of Nellie’s famous macaroni pudding, the acclaimed writer of Moultonian anecdotes and columns in the daily newspaper of Glen Ellyn, Illinois. She claimed that her happiness had been complete when her friends and family all joined in her house during seasonal festivities, music playing and her son already a working professional. Her complete joy came from everyone’s happiness. Her husband Herbert Lewis Moulton, an American veteran from the First World War in France and hardware store salesman, pretty much agreed with his wife. He added, though, that there was a lot to be said for remaining calm, really. That and believing in family values and remaining unique. Maintaining your individuality. His son, Herbert Eyre, remembered how he had asked his dad not to sneeze. Father Herbert Lewis had then answered that he liked to sneeze. Jesus smiled, hearing this kind and calm soul speak of how joy could soar within a spirit. Jesus had to look twice, sort of double-taking his way through the fascinating images coming his way through this being. “You were a decendant of Betsy Ross, right?” Herbert Lewis Moulton nodded. “The woman who sewed the first American flag for George Washington.” “Did that bring you happiness?” Herbert Lewis nodded. “Pride.” “You wanted to share that with other people without putting them down?” “Of course,” the kind soul nodded. “Always. You never put anyone down, just because you feel proud about something.” Jesus shrugged. “Some do. We have to work on that.” Herbert Lewis’ father Grandpa Moulton came to the cloud and sat down, telling a story how he had taken the bus, back home from the old people’s home, at 96 years of age. He told his family that he didn’t want to stay there, because there were just a bunch of old peopl there. So, he came home and spent his last years there. Souls kept on coming to that cloud, many souls. They all gathered around Jesus. They all had something to say. Lennart Dourén, Gun Kronzell’s cousin, had died of bone cancer sometime in the end of the 2oth century. The wit that had signified his entire persona all of his life kept on thriving in heaven. That made him happy. The gleam and glitter of his eye and the twinkle in his spirit kept on going even in heaven. He playacted innocent clownesque sadness, quickly emerging into a bellowing laugh, then switched to imitating an American accent and soon he had everyone laughing their heads off. Even Marlene Dietrich took Greta Garbo by the hand and walked over to Lennart, asking for his autograph. Well, when Anna Julia Sofia Kronzell arrived, everyone listened to her stories of happiness and joy. “ I lived on Earth 96 years as Anna Julia Sofia Kronzell,” she began. “I remember seeing a phonograph grammophone, one of these record playing machines with a big opening, for the first time. A girlfriend from school showed it to me. I wondered where the man was sitting, whose voice came out of the speaker. If you think what they have on Earth nowadays. I was the first female driver in my home town of Kalmar, Sweden in 1923. I had to pay five Swedish crowns back then for the license and get a certificate from the police that I was sober and orderly. But the driving school forgot that I had to learn how to drive in reverse. So, we went onto a forest road and they showed me how to do that. My great-granddaughter Mara Sophie Moulton now has that driver’s license in her hanbag, She is almost 8 years old. They called me “Anna, the fastest woman in Kalmar,” because I drove down the street in no less than 40 km/h. My car was a German car, a Fafner, with the gears on the outside and the car-horn on the outside, a real old corny Hollywood-type, Laurel & Hardy-thing. When I met my husband in 1925, he jumped up on the sideboard of that car and flirted with me like crazy. We were engaged pretty soon and that next year Båkke was born. Four years later, Gun was born.” Knut Kronzell, Anna’s husband, flew down onto the cloud. He had been conversing with the Archangel Gabriel about a new trumpet that he had created. Mozart wanted to create a symphony for the Heavenly Symphony Orchestra with that trumpet as an instrument and that gave the three spirits enough to talk about. Now, Anna’s story had attracted Knut. Jesus lay in the middle of the cloud, all of the other souls laying around him. Immediately, Jesus asked Knut what happiness was for him. “Knut Allan Kronzell,” Knut said. ”Born the same year as Anna, 1900, just ten days after her. She was born on October 18th in the year 1900 and I was born on October 28th. I was a sea captain and my daughter kept my captain’s cap for years after my death. I was a very good singer, I loved music, I loved my daughter’s voice, I loved my son’s trumpet playing and I loved going to the opera in Stockholm with my family. My dad founded the Helsingborg Symphony orchestra. In fact, my grandson Charlie sang on the same stage in 2004 where my dad played the trumpet in 1917. Isn’t that nice?” “Indeed it is,” Jesus said. “That made you happy?” “That made me happy,” Knut answered. “That and the fact that I could nourish my family with my job as the head of a steel company. Later, I worked as an accountant for the Swedish church in Kalmar. All in all, a good life. We, the Kronzell family, always did good stuff together: visits to San Remo, Italy, opera trips to Stockholm, Christmas parties with lots of games, cooking together, playing cards on the floor, telling each other jokes.” Jesus thought about what all the people were saying. “Sharing is the ticket, isn’t it?” Everyone agreed with Jesus. “Sharing lives, sharing love, sharing creativity. Generally making sure that one’s own abilities simply benefit others. That is the ticket to true happiness. Using your own abilities to make other people feel good.” Everyone on the cloud agreed. There were now more than a hundred souls on the cloud. It had become a regular “joy feast for the soul.” Another soul came flying down, landing on the cloud, happily bouncing. He was pretty new in heaven and his fresh innocense in the ways of paradise brought a smile to every aura’s proverbial lips. Bosse Kronzell had lived in southern Sweden claimed that happiness actually lay in trusting your happiness, no matter what. Believing in the power of the positive spirit, whatever might happen. His wife and daughter had been so happy that he made sure they were happy, the entire community of Råå had been happy that his cultural iniative brought everyone strength and togetherness. Bosse changed his working schedule just to accomodate to his family’s needs. His happiness came from sharing his time with his family and friends. Olle Nillson, Anna’s little brother, came flying down upon the cloud, his large aura filling up the entire space of the cloud. He had been a farmer, had lived in Karamåla, loved laughing, loved his family, his hands as big as dinner plates and his love as big as his heart. His wife Lilly admitted that she had been his strength and she had been so proud of how wonderful a man he was. They had shared a life on the farm, actually growing together to become a really happy couple. Lilly had loved smiling, she had loved cooking and she had loved being close to her children. Toward the finishing line of this wonderful conversation, Jesus looked down on Earth and saw that more people on Earth were looking up toward the cloud now. More people were sharing their happiness with others. More weddings were being planned. More music was being played. More happy children were being made. More people were thinking of the environment. More art was being created. More people from different religious faiths were communicating. The souls on the cloud realized that their conversation actually had created something good. That gave them all a reason to celebrate. The entire assembly flew up to the higher spheres of heaven, where Mozart already rehearsed his Heavenly Symphony. Jesus told the Maestro that he would love to sing the tenor part in the symphony. Mozart agreed to this, knowing how wonderful a tenor voice Jesus had. During the rehearsing of that symphony, a little boy walked the Earth, looking up at the sky at the cloud. He saw how the cloud glittered and shone and smiled. That made him turn around and look at another girl, who had joined him, inspired by his gaze toward the heavens. She was a pretty girl, who smiled at him and giggled. “Can I invite you for an ice-cream?” the boy asked. The girl nodded. Jesus whistled, the tune merry, entailing a bouncy sort of charm. And so, the boy and the girl walked to the nearest ice-cream parlour, falling in love and eventually creating beautiful children. Meanwhile, Herbert Moulton, Gun Kronzell and their good friend Etelka Kovacs, a pianist with a Bachelor’s Degree in the Creative Arts, joined Jesus and Mozart in creating a fabulous symphony of heavenly tones. The cloud turn into light, the light turned into hope, the hope turned into a dream, the dream turned into a soulful plan and the plan turned into reality. Meanwhile, Jesus sang up a rainbow, his beautiful tenor voice giving the world a new kind of life worth living.