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Heaven As A Cruise Ship

I think heaven is rather like a cruise ship.

I think when we die, we may well find ourselves in a long line. We ask those around us where we are, where they are from, and so forth, and we realize, after a bit when none of us can give a good account of how we got here, that we are, indeed, in the afterlife. We speculate as to where the line ahead of us is going. We wonder if we are headed toward Heaven or Hell, for we cannot see where the line ends up. But we take some small comfort in the fact that we are with other people and in the minutes we wait, we begin to form a kind of community -- asking each other about our lives, families, loved ones. We amuse each other with our tales and stories, we learn a little about each other. The line ahead of us shrinks, the line behinds us grows. We share with newcomers what we know. Eventually we reach the front of the line and are handed our boarding cards.

We step through a small door and onto the gangway of a very large, very beautiful ship. At the top of the gangway a guide looks at our cards and gives us directions to our cabins. He tells us there is a reception at 5:00 where all our questions will be answered, though doubtless we have figured out much while standing in line, for it surely occurred to us early on that there is no spirit of community in Hell. We go to our rooms. Some of us have grand suites on upper decks, overlooking the ocean. Some of us have more modest accommodations, interior staterooms on lower decks. But we check in, and find our rooms are very beautiful indeed. We see a number of small gifts greeting us; a bottle of wine or flowers, with cards.

I imagine if I should ever arrive at such a moment, I'd read the cards and they would say, "You are here as a guest of Saint ____________, who cared enough to intercede on your behalf with the Lord our God. You may thank Saint _________ at the reception," or "You are here because your grandmother could not imagine heaven without you, and your grandmother is very dear to the Lord, indeed," or, quite simply, "He remembered you at Gethsemane, and His Father heard."

We would need some time to prepare for the reception, for I think we'd all need time to reflect on the fact that none of our staterooms are without these little gifts with cards attached.

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This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on July 4, 2008 1:56 PM.

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