I was five when I first learned about Heaven. Or maybe I was younger, I’m not really sure. I tried to take notes, but I was writing with crayons and my penmanship wasn’t the greatest. All I know is, by the time I turned ten I had completely wrecked the concept.
Most of my hard information about the afterlife and an eternal reward came from the nuns and priests at our Catholic school. They told us that in Heaven, we would be happy. Constantly happy. And we would have everything we wanted. They also informed us, with a tinge of regret it seemed, that animals did not have souls and therefore did not go to Heaven. I was immediately confused. I thought we could have everything we wanted. How did a No Pets policy fit in with that?
This was an important point, at least to me. My first encounter with death involved one of our tropical fish at home. We had a large tank in the living room, and I loved those fish. They seemed so purposeful, as if every movement and change in direction had a good reason behind it, even if I’d never know what it was. I especially loved how they looked me in the eye. How did they know to do that, to connect with my eyes?
One day after school I sat in front of the tank and watched a fish as it struggled to swim to the surface. Then, exhausted from the effort, it would sink slowly back to the bottom. After a minute or two, it would again force itself to the top, then down again. Each time it swam up, it would stop sooner and sooner, until it was just hanging in the water, looking pitiful. I left eventually, to eat or do homework. When I returned, the fish was lying on its side in the colorful gravel at the bottom of the tank.
In school, having been told that animals didn’t have souls and didn’t go to Heaven, I immediately thought of our dead fish — an angel fish, by the way — and our cats. It made no sense. How could I be happy knowing I’d never see my pets again? I didn’t know who it was who’d decided that animals didn’t have souls, but I was sure it must have been someone who never had a cat look them in the eye, or a fish.
As upsetting as the pet question was, the parent issue was devastating. I’d sit alone in church on Sunday mornings and listen to our short, gray-haired priest bellowing about the fires of hell. He’d look out over the congregation and notice the number of children who had walked to Mass without their parents. And he’d tell us that we could get to Heaven if we steered clear of evil. But missing Mass was a mortal sin and without the sacraments there was no recovering from it. Our mothers and fathers, he’d say, were doomed to spend the rest of infinite time suffering the agonies of Hell if they continued to ignore their obligation to be in Church. And I’d sit there, the flat wooden seat pressing hard into my back and tears sliding down my face, trying to decide if I’d rather go to Heaven by myself or burn in Hell with my parents. For a young boy who grieved even for small fish, it was an impossible choice.
The eternity part also troubled me. I tried to imagine what forever meant. Rolling through months and years in my mind and never getting any closer to the end, the idea sounded like a trap, and made me want to run screaming from the room.
I don’t know if I was the only one who felt uneasy about this prospect of endless happiness. It was a risky thing just to be thinking this way. But I was cursed with a mind that was constantly asking the wrong questions. For example, one of the incentives for going to Heaven was that we’d be reunited with loved ones who had died. What about my godmother, the woman who sold Avon products and was always hugging me? She seemed to be perpetually coated in a thick layer of perfume and powder; worse, she had once made me a bowl of split pea soup for lunch. Would she be there, waiting for me? Talk about getting eternal bliss off on the wrong foot.
Another reward was the promise that when we got to Heaven, we’d finally understand all of the things that had made no sense to us on earth. God would reveal the answers to his mysteries. This made me uncomfortable, too. What if I didn’t understand the explanations? I had one of those brains that had to hear things three or four times before I got it. My mind wandered a little. Would God take that into consideration?
I feared there would be some unclear role for me in Heaven, as there had been in the Mass. As an altar boy, I had never really learned what I was supposed to do. I still don’t know why that is. Surely I had received explicit instructions, but I guess I wasn’t paying attention. (I’d joined the altar boys only because someone had told me they got to go to Yankee Stadium. As it turned out, we went to an amusement park instead — one of those ancient places where half the rides are shut down for repairs.) So I missed most of the information. Then I’d find myself in a situation, such as serving an actual Mass, where there were gaps in my knowledge. This was one of the reasons I was always volunteering to serve the Masses at five in the morning. The congregation at that time of the day usually consisted of a half dozen elderly women in shawls. Most of them seemed to be asleep the whole time, so my mistakes tended to go unnoticed. Later, when the service was over, I relished the sense of relief I felt when no one yelled at me for being a jerk. There was a certain euphoria connected with having slipped through another one unscathed, a feeling I still get sometimes, especially right after tax season.But what if Heaven were less forgiving? It sounds ridiculous, but maybe the forgiving part all had to do with getting to Heaven in the first place, and once you were there you really had to shape up and be in top form and know what you were supposed to do. Forever. There was some pressure there. Really, sometimes the thought of howling in the depths of Hell with my parents and our flesh on fire and falling from our charred bones didn’t seem all that bad. At least there were no expectations.
One of my biggest worries was the idea that I wouldn’t know where to go, that Heaven would be a lot of hustle and bustle and nobody there to tell a little soul whose mind wandered exactly where he was supposed to be and what he should do when he got there. This is another feeling I’ve never been able to shake, the fear that there’s a complex process going on, and that I have nothing of much value to add, I might just be in the way, and that if I simply left, things would go on better without me.
I don’t know if there’s a Heaven. I doubt it, but would love to be pleasantly surprised. If there is a Heaven, I hope the entrance requirements aren’t as strict as I’d been taught all those years ago. My parents didn’t go to church, but they were good people and I’d want them to be there. I could even put up with my godmother and her powdered hugs. But there’d have to be animals. At least cats and fish. And maybe a few dogs.
A weekend pass would be nice once in a while, too. A chance to get away. Eternity is an awfully long time, even for bliss.
Margaret Reyes Dempsey
February 1, 2011
The captions on the “priest and nuns” graphic had me howling. I can just picture you as a kid going through the motions of altar server.
I grew up in the “Vatican II” Church. Not much “fire and brimstone” preaching. We even had the guitar mass. It was kind of like “The Girls from The Magic Garden Go Catholic.”
“See ya, see ya, hope you had a good good time…” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=28x8OcGDmI4&feature=related
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bronxboy55
February 1, 2011
When I joined the altar boys, the Mass was in Latin. As soon as we finished learning the Latin, they changed it to English. Man was I mad, but where do you take a complaint like that?
I just watched the Magic Garden video and I remember when the Catholic services became Folk Masses; it did sound a lot like that. I guess that was progress. I guess.
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notesfromrumbleycottage
February 1, 2011
Oh, the worries of heaven and how to get there. I wonder if my sins have been forgiven, I wonder if God counts future sins or sins you only thought about but never committed. I pray and I try to read scripture more. But heaven would be a lonely place without my pets.
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bronxboy55
February 1, 2011
We were taught that we had to avoid sinning in “thought, word, and deed.” The thought part was especially tough, because trying not to think about something caused me to think about it even more. I think the ban on pets has been lifted.
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arborfamiliae
February 1, 2011
These are some great ruminations about heaven. I have a different perspective on how to get there and what expectations will be when I’m there, but that’s probably because I grew up Presbyterian, not Catholic.
Your reflection on whether it would be better to be in hell with people you love rather than in heaven alone made me think of Billy Joel: “I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints.” When I was attending Notre Dame, I heard Billy Joel had been banned from playing concerts there, but I’m not sure whether it was that line or the one about Catholic girls starting much too late. It seemed pointless to me anyway, because when I was there Def Leppard gave a concert at ND and I’m pretty sure they sing some lyrics that are less than wholesome.
On the question of pets in heaven, I’m with you and the previous commenter: I sure hope they’re there. I have several dogs I’d like to see again, dogs who listened to me when I was teenager and didn’t feel like any human being understood me. I love dogs and can’t imagine eternity without them. There are several interesting books about the question of pets in heaven. One I’ve found helpful is Will I See My Dog in Heaven? by Jack Wintz. And he’s a Catholic, no less.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts and your experiences. The sentence about you sitting in mass, tears running down your face while you contemplated your parents’ fate was touching and very well crafted.
I look forward to a day (and an eternity!) when we’ll all know these things more clearly, when there will be no reason to doubt ourselves or feel inadequate, when we will be able to love and be loved more perfectly than we can imagine.
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bronxboy55
February 1, 2011
Thanks for the thoughtful comments, Kevin. I’m sure we could have a very long discussion on this topic, and many others. I had no idea there were entire books on the question of animals going to Heaven. Is it talked about anywhere in the Bible?
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Mommarge
February 1, 2011
Your thoughts brought back my childhood (which was in the 1950s) where I, too, went to Catholic School, attended mass alone and would always come home with the sad feeling that my family was going to hell. I would even try to explain all this to them because I worried so much about it. However, when I grew up and “fire and brimstone” was thrown aside for more upbeat preaching, I seemed to forget about all of that. Thanks for reminding me of that sadness I felt then – and in such a humorous way. I really enjoyed it.
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bronxboy55
February 1, 2011
If I’m remembering it accurately, there were many kids at those Masses without their parents. I’ve always wondered what the thought process was that caused people to force their children to go to church while they stayed home. Did they not really believe the teachings and were just trying to get the kids out of the house? Or were they unsure and sending the kids, just in case?
Anyway, to completely free yourself of any lingering sadness, I would recommend a bike tour of Sicily. Or maybe Cuba.
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cooperstownersincanada
February 1, 2011
A very interesting piece. I love the way you can take a deep topic – like heaven – and make me think and laugh at the same time. I suppose I’m an agnostic now; I really don’t know what I believe. But I hope there’s something good waiting for me at the end. Plus, I would love to see my neighbor’s dog, Muffy, again. I loved that cocker spaniel with all my heart when I was a kid.
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bronxboy55
February 2, 2011
I consider myself an agnostic, too, Kevin. I just don’t feel capable of being sure about these things. We’ll see what happens. I hope you see Muffy again!
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Allan Douglas
February 1, 2011
I’ve wrestled with that No Pets Allowed deal myself. Having always had at least one dog, in fact my first babysitter was a dog, I can’t imagine life being perfectly happy without one.
But then what I’ve learned about heaven from studying the entrance exam manual tells me that it won’t be anything like this life, so I just try not to over think the whole “what is heaven” thing. Which you, Charles, were obviously doing! Reading this I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or pray for you… so I did both. What the hey, God’s got a sense of humor – have you ever seen a platypus?
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bronxboy55
February 2, 2011
According to arborfamiliae, there have been entire books written on the subject of pets in Heaven, so I must not be the only one over-thinking it. Maybe I’ll get my hands on one of those books and try to find out if platypuses go to Heaven. (I know you’re wondering, too. I’ll let you know.)
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Westchester Square
February 1, 2011
When I look into the deep brown adoring eyes of my labrador retriever, I know perfectly well there is a soul in there. Chances are, she’ll get to heaven before I do. She’ll be waiting for me, just like she waits by my back door now. No doubt in my mind.
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bronxboy55
February 2, 2011
It seems that most pet owners feel that way. I don’t know what a soul is or how to define it, but if souls exist, then animals — at least certain animals — should have them.
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Snoring Dog Studio
February 1, 2011
Well, I’m not going if all my dogs aren’t there. And I fully expect to see the two hamsters that suffered an untimely demise. That’s all there is to it. I’m always a bit uncomfortable when I read about the heaven thing – I suppose, like you, I’m awfully sad if I have to contemplate going to a place that might be boring or, worse yet, absent the people and pets I love. But, I say it for all to see here: I do believe in heaven. I won’t be spending time proving that it exists. I’m fine without seeing the mathematical formula or the science that proves it. I always read through your entire posts, Charles. You take us on a journey that is so heartfelt, personal and human. I can picture the scenes through your words.
By the way, do you draw and write those cartoons? Because, they’re fantastic! And they ought to be part of a book you should be writing …
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bronxboy55
February 2, 2011
I like your flat declaration: “Well, I’m not going if all my dogs aren’t there.” I’d never really thought about whether we’d have the option of not going, but now that you mention it, being dragged off to paradise against your will would be something of a contradiction, wouldn’t it?
Thank you, SDS. I always appreciate your encouraging words. And no, I don’t draw the cartoons. They’re from an online clip-art subscription service. I do manipulate the images and add captions and dialogue, but the original drawings were all done by anonymous artists. I wish I could acknowledge them by name.
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Snoring Dog Studio
February 2, 2011
Well, the captions are hilarious. And the cartoons add so much to your posts! So, don’t stop!
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Jessica Sieghart
February 2, 2011
Your cartoon captions are top notch today, my friend! I didn’t go to Catholic schools, but we did go to church and CCD classes. From a young age on, just like you, it seemed like just about everything we learned only left me with more questions that nobody ever seemed to be able to answer. I remember learning about the “No Pets Allowed” in heaven. We were told that it’s because animals have a material soul that just ends when they die. Humans have a spiritual soul that exists after death and of course, goes to heaven if you attend mass every week, donate 10% of your salary to the church and follow whatever other rules they come up with. We were told that heaven would have everything we needed, not wanted, for eternal happiness. I guess no one “needs” pets, although personally, I’ve liked my pets much more than some of the people I’ve met in my life. I have no idea what the official Bible stance on the subject is because, as my sister always jokes, “Catholics don’t really read the Bible.” I always wondered why God would have created so many different animals if he didn’t want them around. It still doesn’t really make any sense to me.
I remember once being told by a nun in 2nd grade CCD class that my mother was going to hell for some reason I can’t remember now. I remember wondering at the time if my parents just sent me to church and CCD just to scare the hell out of me. I never found anything comforting there and anytime I asked “Why?” to anything, nobody seemed to have an answer. Still, I went (out of fear and guilt) and I started my own kids in CCD, too (although they call it Religious Education now). I found myself more irritated than not at a lot of the things they were being told and when 9/11 happened and my daughter was told in class that if “Osama’s mother had done her job and raised him to be Catholic, this wouldn’t have happened” along with a whole bunch of other anti-Muslim propaganda. I thought it was really wrong and when I talked to the RE Director about it, she told me that she didn’t think I was “Catholic enough”. What? Why? Because I’m not out spewing hate and ridiculous comments about another religion? I pulled my kids out of CCD and have not stepped foot in church since. The amazing thing about it is that I don’t feel guilty about it at all and I don’t even think we’re all going to hell. The sad thing to me is that I rarely even think about it anymore. There was always something in me that wanted to take what they were saying at face value and just believe it. I wanted to enjoy going to church and have that faith that a lot of other people have. It just never happened for me.
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bronxboy55
February 2, 2011
Jessica, I’ve had this discussion many times with many different people (most of them family members). It doesn’t seem that we have control over what we believe, any more than we have control over what kinds of food tastes good to us, or what kinds of music we like. The problem with religion is that it takes the biggest mysteries in life and tries to give specific answers and explanations. Invariably, those answers and explanations make very little sense, because they were made up by human beings.
The idea that crazy people do crazy things because of their religion is backward logic. Every criminal in the United States probably attended the first grade, but that doesn’t mean their first-grade teachers turned them into criminals. I think if everyone would stop screaming for five minutes, they’d realize that we’re all in the same state of confusion and we’re all just trying to find our way.
Maybe we should start a new religion. It could be based entirely on feelings of bewilderment and compassion. And all of the holidays would have to include cheesecake. What do you think?
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Jessica Sieghart
February 2, 2011
As long as there’s chocolate sauce, I’m in!
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bronxboy55
February 3, 2011
Trying to start your own sect already I see. I know what’s next. The chocolate sauce group will split into two camps: dark and milk. And then someone will say that only strawberries belong on cheesecake. And then we’ll have the orthodox, who insist that cheesecake was intended to be eaten plain, with no goopy stuff on top. This church is already in an uproar and we haven’t even printed our first newsletter yet.
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Jessica Sieghart
February 3, 2011
Ok, you’re on to me. I’m much more of a leader than a follower. We’ll have to forego the cheesecake rule. Too many variables and we’d be discriminating against the lactose intolerant. Just take that part out and start the presses.
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Priya
February 2, 2011
Do they also throw light on why animals are not meant to go to heaven? Are they welcome in hell? What must be their reason in wanting to make people believe this? Do people generally believe this? Are my questions bothersome? This is a terrific concept! I did not know about it. I should think I would have run away from these educational sessions. Do many people run away?
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bronxboy55
February 2, 2011
I never heard an explanation, but Jessica (above) did. She was told animals have material souls that, I guess, decompose at death. (Or maybe they’re eaten by vultures.) I would think that without souls, animals wouldn’t go to hell either, although I just did an image search and it seems there are some dragons down there, and snakes. I got bit by a dog once when I was 23, and if there’s any justice at all, he’s there too. Now I’m wondering about insects. There wouldn’t be mosquitoes in heaven, would there? They do seem to be everywhere. I don’t know if people generally believe any of this, or if they even think about it. And actually, there did seem to be some kind of limit on how much we were allowed to ask. Questions were not encouraged, so I’d say running away would be preferable, although it may be too late for you now. I’m hoping if I do end up in hell, there’s a special room for people whose major sin was asking too many questions. There would be tables and chairs and a lot of books. And air conditioning. Do you want me to save you a seat?
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Priya
February 3, 2011
Mosquitoes in Canada? Wow. Really? Or are you just interested in stealing the thunder from India? If they are really everywhere, they should get an entry into Heaven as well. Just so. And Hell, too.
About saving a seat in the air-conditioned room with a lot of books and tables and chairs – As long as there’s lemonade, I am game. Or perhaps not. Do the dragons singe? Or bite? What about their breath? Does it smell of fire? Or singed flesh?*
* I know I have branded my position in Hell already. Too many questions.
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bronxboy55
February 3, 2011
You may just get your very own room.
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Val Erde
February 2, 2011
The thing that strikes me about the ‘animals have no soul’ versus ‘people have’ thing is how the religious authorities don’t regard people as being animals, which of course we are. Just because our brains are (apparently) different from other animals shouldn’t be an issue spiritually.
I was never threatened with hell as Jews don’t have the same concept of heaven and hell as the various denominations of Christianity/Catholicism have. There is something, but like you I’ve never quite understood what.
I don’t actually believe in Heaven (or hell, though the latter sometimes worries me!)… I mean, if it exists, where is it and if you don’t like it there, can you get a ticket out?
Thoughtful and funny post as ever, Charles. Sometimes I don’t know where the humour leaves off and the sadness begins (and vice versa) but I don’t think it matters. You’re writing about your fears as a child and later, and it needs writing about as it’s still with you.
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bronxboy55
February 2, 2011
I find it easier to believe in heaven than in hell. But if hell does exist, I doubt there’s any way to get a ticket out. (I can’t begin to imagine what you’d have to do in order to qualify for one of those tickets.)
Judaism occasionally talks about the Kingdom of God or something, but it’s very vague, isn’t it? Almost like they’re trying not to commit themselves.
Thank you for the kind words, Val. I always appreciate hearing from you.
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Amy @ Soul Dipper
February 2, 2011
Boy oh boy! Did we ever share similar thoughts and fears! I had this built in device that shut off my brain whenever an adult said, “I need you do something for me. Go over by that cupboard…” When the instructions started, I heard the first concept, but I’d be stuck there wondering if I had the right cupboard. When I tuned in again to step #4, I’d be so full of panic that I would miss the next two steps. I learned that rather than be wrong, I’d rather be bold and ask a million questions until I got it. I don’t know which was more humiliating.
About the animals…two bits of data helped me work that one out! First, I discovered that, after we die, who or what we believe we’ll encounter, we’ll encounter. Second, someone said that only “God Conscious” beings go on to higher planes. So I went to work. I have talked to all my pets about God. I’ve reminded them of all the things for which they could be grateful. All my pets were/are God Conscious.
So when I go on to the next level of existence, free of this body and my clay feet that never have danced well, I will be amongst all those purrs, licks, and animal love that can only come from creatures with souls.
Loved this post. Again. I, too, roared over the scene with the priests and nuns. Fabulous.
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bronxboy55
February 3, 2011
I think your first paragraph describes exactly what happened to me. And I have a feeling it’s part of the reason so many students struggle in school, especially when questions are discouraged. I wonder if there’s a name for it.
Thank you for the nice comment, Amy. And I hope you’re right about the pets.
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Melinda
February 3, 2011
Growing up Baptist, I don’t remember being told animals don’t go to heaven. Interesting. I must not have taken any crayon notes (lol I loved that). Your captions are hysterical as always. I do remember being little and wondering/worrying about: if I died, would my stuffed animals go with me? That was of great concern.
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bronxboy55
February 3, 2011
We may move on past the stuffed animals, but we don’t get very far, do we? It’s the one question we all want answered, and it’s the one nobody can answer. That’s annoying.
But, you know, given the incredible scientific breakthroughs you’ve been having, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if you ended up solving the life-after-death puzzle, too.
http://www.findingthehumor.com/yep-thats-me/sockology/
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mirroredImages
February 3, 2011
My oldest son asked me just yesterday, “Mom, if heaven’s so great, why can’t we just go there now?” And I honestly didn’t know how to answer him; “Just ‘cuz” sounded very unsatisfying to me. I mustered up something about how God wants us to stick around here on Earth long enough to make sure other people find out how great heaven is and get to go there with us. I don’t think he was convinced, and it reminded me anew just how inadequate words are when it comes to expressing things that really, deeply matter.
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bronxboy55
February 4, 2011
I think part of the dilemma is that, for all of our griping and despair, we do love being alive and being physical beings on a physical planet. It’s all we’ve ever known. In a child’s mind, heaven may seem like just another fun trip, like Disney World. (Uh oh. Did I just ruin heaven for you, too?)
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Mitch Mitchell
February 3, 2011
Great stuff, Charles. You know, the thing about parents not going to church but sending you was my issue as well. They wanted me to be a good Christian, but they never went themselves, then castigated themselves years later when I went a different direction and they did start going to church. I’m sure I drove the base chaplain crazy with the questions I asked, many of which included Jesus Christ Superstar & Godspell questions; no, he wasn’t a fan. lol
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bronxboy55
February 4, 2011
My guess is that you would have gone in a different direction anyway, but there’s no way to know for sure. It’s just too bad that religion, a word whose roots mean to bind together, is so often the reason people feel disconnected from each other.
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shoreacres
February 4, 2011
Uh – I’m the laggard here because I’ve felt reluctant to confess the truth. I’ve never worried about hell, or thought about heaven. I figure if they exist, and God is the one to sort out who goes where, there’s nothing to worry about.
It’s kind of like the Last Judgement. I never could figure out why people thought it was so terrible. I mean – it’s the LAST judgement, folks, and God’s in charge there, too. After a lifetime of being judged by teachers, parents, friends, bosses, professors, enemies, neighbors and people on the street who don’t even know a lick about me, the thought of being done with judgment forever sounds pretty good. At least it’s not that awful Mrs. Levinworth down the street who gets to pronounce the final word!
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bronxboy55
February 7, 2011
I never thought about the ongoing series of judgments we all endure. When you list them out like that (and there are plenty more), it seems nearly unbearable.
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Mitchell Allen
February 4, 2011
Charles, this post falls under the category of Bright Ideas. No mostly about this one. No siree! Especially with a line like this:
If that’s not a point ponder, I don’t know what is. Since none of us knows, what if you’re right? That would suck. I left the rat race for a reason.
I guess church must have been like cheap daycare – my mother sent us every Sunday, with about $1.00 in change. My sister always came home with some candy. Once, when my mother asked me where my candy was, I told her I didn’t have any because I’d put all the change in the offering. She looked at me like I was an idiot and told me to save some of it for the candy store.
I never learned much in church, because I could not hear well enough to understand Sunday School teachers, sermons or the words to the hymns. Sounds like hell, to me.
Cheers,
Mitch
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bronxboy55
February 7, 2011
Yes, the eternal rat race. That certainly has a different ring to it.
I’m surprised your sister didn’t call you an idiot; isn’t that what sisters are for?
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Mitchell Allen
February 7, 2011
LOL. I had a nice big sister. Maybe she thought I was being pious.
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Damyanti
February 5, 2011
Any heaven without animals is no heaven at all, I think more of them deserve their spot in heaven than humans.
But then, maybe not. As you point out, any kind of forever, even a blissful one, has got to be boring at the very least and incredibly taxing at the most.
I’m not a Christian, but I call myself a person of (Hindu) faith, I try and believe in a higher entity.
Only once in a while I’m left wondering whether some higher entity indeed created us and looks after us, or whether we have created it because we’re so afraid of being alone and helpless.
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bronxboy55
February 7, 2011
Your last paragraph says it as succinctly as possible. We all have to address the unanswerable questions in the best way we can, in whatever way allows us to survive and be human. That’s what I think, anyway.
Thanks, Damyanti. It’s always good to hear from you.
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eye doctor Memphis
July 26, 2014
Your ability to play all day until your mother call you in is normal.
Wearing contact lenses should always be comfortable and pain-free.
I also add a drop of 98% Aloe Vera gel, since aloe has an antibacterial property and it promotes cell regeneration.
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