Wednesday, February 14, 2007

JOHN 3:16

We here on earth got the best deal when The Big Guy decided to send his Son to save our sorry butts. It's all a mystery to me why He had to send His son, and just couldn't do it Himself, being all-powerful and stuff. But who am I to question.
I guess that is where faith comes in.
So check out the scripture reference above, and hug a loved one on St. Val's Day. If in the event no one is there for you to hug, draw comfort that He Who Is sure does love you.

I am posting my latest column from the Suburban Journals......
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MOVIN' ON UP (HOPEFULLY!)

If you are like a lot of us, you may have had a thought or two on what happens to you when you die. Not in the physical sense, of course, which is pretty much covered by my father-in-law Jack’s favorite poem:
“The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out,
In your ear and out your mouth.
So never laugh when a hearse goes by,
For you may be the next to die.”
Cute, huh?
What I’m talking about is crossing over the River Jordan, passing on to the other side.
The after-life.
From a purely pragmatic view, believing in the hereafter is a little like believing in the existence of God. If you don’t, and there is one…big problems, bunky. If you do and there isn’t one, then it just didn’t matter, did it? But if you do believe and there is a heaven and a God, at least you’ve got a fighting chance
So a faith in God and in an after-life is the best career decision, eternally speaking, that is.
Frankly, without something beyond this, the day-to-day rollout makes little sense, even in the best of times. I mean, without the possibility of meeting the Big Guy, then what’s the point?
Let’s talk a little bit about final destinations. If you’re a believer, you aspire to take that last walk up to the Pearly Gates. The romanticized version is one of clouds and angels and harp music, with St. Pete guarding the door. Over there is Jesus and the saints, smiling, blessing, shaking hands. Everyone is peaceful and happy. You are bathed in a glow from the Lord on High. It’s, well, heavenly.
Or is it more metaphysical, more a “being” than a feeling. A time without time, that has nothing to do with corporeal pleasures, like having all the potato chips you can eat with no worries about transfats.
Some say we may meet our ancestors, those who have “moved on up” before us. They have been waiting for us, even watching over our lives from above. Now that hits me as more than just a little bit creepy, considering some of the stupid stuff I have done in my day. And think how uncomfortable would it be to have to say “Hey, Aunt Mary…uh, where’s Uncle Larry?” So I just don’t know about that view. I’d hate to think that after a lifetime of worrying about your kids, that you get to heaven only to be still wondering why the heck they made this or that dumb move. My idea of eternal peace is not looking through the heavenly blinds at 1 A.M, hoping that next set of headlights is your daughter’s car rolling in.
No one knows for sure, since we only have the ballplayers from “Field of Dreams” to give us their version of what it is really like. (What’s that you say….that wasn’t a true story?)
Maybe the after-life is none of this. Our small human mind is limited by experience and imagination. I find it hard to imagine never-ending joy. But I believe it is possible.
All of this is assuming a great deal, by the way, as far as my own personal destination goes. I believe in a gentle and forgiving God, one that knows I am weak. After all, He made me, right?
I just hope He keeps this all in mind when my number’s called.
I really don’t do well in the heat.

1 comment:

A Secular Franciscan said...

Ah yes, the heat. I'm not big on that either.

Of course, Sartre suggested it might just be a room with a couch and two people you can't stand to be with - for all eternity!