A man died. He was suffering from cancer and was in extreme pain. It became harder, and harder still to breathe until in one instant he couldn't make his chest rise. Panic enveloped him like a blanket when suddenly all was still. The pain was gone, all sensation of heaviness. In fact, the feeling of being bound to the earth disappeared. He didn't breathe but then neither did he have the need to.
Slowly his eyes opened.
The most pure and golden light flooded every inch of his room. It was about and no one in the hospital ward stirred. On the bedside table was his alarm clock with a fiery red display. Over there was his heart monitor, a siren buzzing through cotton. He could see everything but it was all muted somehow. Yet the details were excruciatingly sharp. Like seeing things through a veil.
"James"
"Who's there?", the man answered. Odd that he was able to respond so forcefully. He hadn't spoken since they removed his voice box three months ago. The cancer had spread to his lymph nodes since then.
"James, come here son."
By the door stood someone he knew. James couldn't quite place him but was shocked at how familiar he looked.
"It's time. The test is over."
James rose from the bed without any effort. Indeed, he had barely decided to follow the man when he found himself on his feet.
"Sir, what's happened?"
"Your probation is past. Now you will give an accounting. If you are worthy you will find rest and service until the Great Day."
"If I'm not?"
A look of pure sadness crossed the stranger's face. "We've all chosen our own paths."
Without further talk the pair moved quickly out of the hospital and into a fog bank. When they emerged James was in a very different place. Everywhere he looked there were throngs of people. Some were very happy while others suffered in a depressed, even dejected mood. The odd thing was that all of those cheerful people were either moving toward a door set high on a nearby hill or sitting with the mourners; comforting them. The same pure golden light effused the scene, except off to one side. There some very few people were angrily mocking the entire crowd. There it was dark and James felt a kinship to that place and ashamed.
"James, do you know what to do next?"
"No, no I don't."
Again his companion’s countenance fell.
Slowly his eyes opened.
The most pure and golden light flooded every inch of his room. It was about and no one in the hospital ward stirred. On the bedside table was his alarm clock with a fiery red display. Over there was his heart monitor, a siren buzzing through cotton. He could see everything but it was all muted somehow. Yet the details were excruciatingly sharp. Like seeing things through a veil.
"James"
"Who's there?", the man answered. Odd that he was able to respond so forcefully. He hadn't spoken since they removed his voice box three months ago. The cancer had spread to his lymph nodes since then.
"James, come here son."
By the door stood someone he knew. James couldn't quite place him but was shocked at how familiar he looked.
"It's time. The test is over."
James rose from the bed without any effort. Indeed, he had barely decided to follow the man when he found himself on his feet.
"Sir, what's happened?"
"Your probation is past. Now you will give an accounting. If you are worthy you will find rest and service until the Great Day."
"If I'm not?"
A look of pure sadness crossed the stranger's face. "We've all chosen our own paths."
Without further talk the pair moved quickly out of the hospital and into a fog bank. When they emerged James was in a very different place. Everywhere he looked there were throngs of people. Some were very happy while others suffered in a depressed, even dejected mood. The odd thing was that all of those cheerful people were either moving toward a door set high on a nearby hill or sitting with the mourners; comforting them. The same pure golden light effused the scene, except off to one side. There some very few people were angrily mocking the entire crowd. There it was dark and James felt a kinship to that place and ashamed.
"James, do you know what to do next?"
"No, no I don't."
Again his companion’s countenance fell.
“Then wait here. It may take a while but someone will come to talk to you.”
With that the tall familiar stranger strode away quickly. He had much work to do.
James was alone but felt no dread. This was a pleasant place. Before his eyes opened a wide vale surrounded by low green hills. A stream ran through the middle, singing joyfully. The whole place looked somewhat like a park. There were benches and great swaths of perfectly trimmed grass. A small group was singing in the distance and everywhere a muted buzz of conversation.
“Okay. You’re dead. Now what?”
His family had never been religious but they were good people. Dad made sure that they were honest and hard working. Mom insisted they treat others with respect. In all he had never done anything really bad, but then he had never gone out of his way to help others either.
A sly grin creased his mouth, “I didn’t see any pearly gates but there ain’t no pitchforks here either. I guess they ain’t sure what to do with me.”
James didn’t experience any real sense of time in the way we do. There was no awareness of pending appointments or meal times. He just sort of…was. Once he looked up and saw stars peeking through a slightly darkened sky even though the golden hue never faded. They were spinning wildly, like the earth had sped-up 1000 or 10000 times.
Eventually a pair of very kind looking men approached him.
“Hello James. Do you recognize us?”
Truth be told, he did know one of them. Ever since he had stepped foot into this place, his memory of Life had become perfectly clear. Every word, thought and deed could be recalled without the slightest effort and he was not very proud of what he had been.
“Yes. You,” nodding to the man on the left, “were my third grade teacher. Mr. Gabbitas. I liked you a lot because you were so kind.”
“I was hopeful that you might recognize how kindness could bring love in others.”
The other man’s voice was strong but filled with merciful patience, “I was your Great-Grandfather. I was dying in the same hospital you were born in and lived three days after you joined us on Earth. Only once did I get to hold you, but it was precious to me.”
“You know my family died just a couple years later in an epidemic.”
“Yes. I was allowed to shield you from the virus. You had some good to do in the world yet.”
Mr. Gabbitas gestured toward a nearby path which wound among the foothills. “Let’s walk for a bit James.”
As they moved along the trail, the two men taught James about Life, the purpose and eventuality of it. They opened his eyes to the reality of God. All the lessons he had never heard while mortal, but would have accepted had he been given the chance.
A curious sensation was growing on James, or rather, a curious lack of sensation. There was no physicality here. It was neither hot nor cold, hard nor soft. Certain things he could touch, like the ground and the seats but nothing else. Once he encountered an aunt who had died years before. He rushed to greet her but she shied away, refused to approach him and turned toward that dark and abysmal place he had first noticed. By the way, he no longer felt an interest for that shadow. Now it held disgust and an odd feeling of pity.
Over time (as if that held any meaning here), he began to notice that new arrivals were always escorted by someone they knew or by the same tall familiar man who had accompanied himself. Once, as that guide was leaving a new citizen of the land, James asked what was closest to his heart, “Sir, may I ask, who are you?”
“I am your brother. When you understand what that truly means, you will be ready to move on.”
“Move on where?”
“Through the door. There is some work which must be done for you, when that happens you will learn. Until then, rest, listen and See.”
We will leave James now, for he has yet to pass through the door. Perhaps we might greet him when our turn comes.
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