Archangel of Sedona by Tony Peluso Page A

and I had been walking for two miles from Chicken Point when we made the parking lot of the chapel. The lot was not as crowded as two days earlier, but scores of tourists meandered all over the property. In the old days, the chapel was renowned, but not so popular. You could find peace and solitude there.
    Gretchen loved the chapel. She thought it struck the right balance of architectural beauty, compatibility with the stunning environment, and responsible use of fragile resources.
    “The view is spectacular,” she said as we stood in the northern courtyard and sipped on our water. “This is where you saw the aliens, right?”
    “Gretch, I never said the lights were aliens. I don’t know what they were.”
    “Right, Tony. Nothing in this world operates like that.”
    “Then you believe that I saw something.”
    “Sweetie, I’ve lived with you for thirty years. You’re a handful, but you’ve never been delusional. You believe that you saw something. If it wasn’t aliens, what could it be?”
    “Gretch, I don’t know what those lights were. You could get similar performance from modern jet-propelled drones. The humans operating them wouldn’t experience the crushing G forces that those right-angle turns generate. The pilots would be safe in some Air Force computer center playing with their joysticks while hammering back shots of Jeremiah Weed. Honey, I’m not here about lights,” I said. “I’m here about the Christus.”
    “I think the two are connected somehow,” Gretchen said.
    “Until the McMannes’ article, I never saw a correlation. After the original incident, I experienced the Christus here twice, once in 1968 and once in 1971, with no unexplained phenomena during either of those trips.”
    “You don’t like this place anymore, do you?” My wife asked.
    “I still think it’s impressive. It’s not as spiritual.”
    “You’re upset because it’s different. They want to attract a broader base of people who can appreciate this beauty.”
    “You said, ‘they want to attract.’ Who is the they?”
    “The Catholic Church, smart ass,” Gretchen shot back.
    “The Catholic Church stopped having religious services here. They opened an emporium. They do a brisk business. A unique spiritual symbol is now a sophisticated scenic overlook with a religious theme and a lucrative gift shop.”
    “Speaking of the gift shop, I told Mom that I’d get her something. Let’s go down and look around.”
    When we went down to the shop in the old priest’s quarters, Gretchen set out to examine the various religious items that could pass for jewelry. Linda, the pretty sales clerk, spotted me right away and came over to talk.
    “Tony, we hoped that you’d come back. Jim told me that if you wandered back in the shop that I should ask you wait. He has something to tell you about the Christus.”
    “Super. Where is he?
    “Jim’s in the back,” Linda said, looking over her shoulder toward the rear of the shop. “There he is now.” She waved until he noticed, then motioned him over.
    “Hey Tony,” Jim said, as he gave me a cheerful greeting.
    “Hey, you know something about the Christus?”
    “Yeah. I hoped you’d come back. Your inquiry a couple of days ago caused a little stir. You went over to the parish and spoke with Father O’Malley, right?”
    “Yes, I did. I didn’t offend anyone, did I?”
    “No. Father O’Malley is an inquisitive Irishman. You got him excited. He called Father Ted. Father O’Malley told me that, according to the pastor, the Christus was controversial.”
    “That’s right. Saw that myself. That’s what the bishop said in the article.”
    “Tony, I read that article last night. It’s wild that the Christus disappeared.”
    “It’s suspicious,” I said.
    “I agree,” Jim said. “Father Ted thinks that Father Hansen knows about the Christus.”
    “Where can I find this Catholic priest?” I asked.
    “Is that Don Hansen?” Linda chimed in. “He’s the famous