Judgement

A light snow was falling when Walter came out of the church. Big fat flakes slowly swirled out of the dark into the golden light cast through the stained glass. Choir practice was always one of Walter's favorite activities. He loved hearing his deep baritone voice bring richness to the sacred words of the hymns. Walter was a very religious man. No one in the congregation had a better record for attending church and Bible study. On Sundays, Walter could always be found somewhere around the church from early morning until late in the evening. He attended Bible study with a group on Tuesday nights, and spent Thursday evenings discussing the Gospels with the minister, whose day job was greeting customers at the local WalMart. Walter skipped lunch on Fridays to lead a Bible study group in the company lunchroom. In fact, Walter's whole life revolved around his efforts to spread the Good News to everyone he came in contact with.

Walter waved goodnight to his fellows, and carefully followed the walkway to his car in the parking lot. He scraped the snow and ice from the windows, and climbed into the driver's seat to wait car to warm up. As he sat there, he began a long prayer begging his God to show mercy on the unbelievers, to show them the Light and salvation of the Lamb's Blood. Walter prayed in a similar manner probably a dozen times each day, whenever he found himself unoccupied a prayer was on his lips. Walter didn't just pray; he sincerely tried to live according to the precepts in the Bible, as he understood them. He not only had no other Gods before the Almighty, he hated the very notion of idolatry. He honored his father and mother, though both were almost certainly damned to hell. He kept his marriage vows, and considered it his duty to have children so that more souls could find the righteous path to God. He paid not a ten percent tithe on his net salary, but 15% of the gross. Walter never considered that a sacrifice, but rather as a privilege. He also supported two missionaries who smuggled Bibles into China, and an orphan's home in Africa dedicated to saving souls. Walter was a very devoted man indeed.

As Walter drove toward his little home in the suburbs, he soundlessly whistled the old hymn "Jesus Loves Me". In fact, he was just about to burst forth into song when the wheels hit an icy patch. The car began to slew around, and Walter had to fight for control as the car slid into the intersection. Unfortunately, the intersection wasn't completely empty at the time. His neighbor George Winthrop was also fighting the elements, but was singing a different sort of tune altogether. George never attended church, if the local tavern was open, and tonight he had at least one too many. He saw Walter's care in the glare of his headlights, but his reaction time was slow. The snow muffled the sound of the collision. The whole thing might have passed un-noticed if a gas tank hadn't exploded instantly killing both Walter and George.

Walter stood shaking in darkness trying to remember what had happened. Slowly a golden light replaced the darkness as if the light of the rising sun was filtered through stained glass. The snow was gone, replaced by dewy grass and masses of blooming flowers. Walter shook his head in wonder, as the memory of the accident returned. "I'm dead", he thought, "Hallelujah". He had not even a moment's fear because his conscience was clear. He had loved Jesus and God all of his life, had done his best to bring the world to their loving worship, and now expected only his reward. He never had felt better. No aches, no pains, only a lightness of heart and being that made him want to run and jump into the arms of Jesus.

Walter took a step, and it was if he was in a different world. Now he was walking along a broad path in the midst of a great crowd. Everyone was slowly walking in the same direction, and it seemed to Walter that the path was leading ever upward. He strained his eyes to see path's ending, to catch the first glimpse of the heavenly kingdom where he would spend eternity. He saw nothing but the long lines of people shuffling along what appeared to be an endless path. Walter reconciled himself to waiting his turn, though he was just a little peeved that God hadn't been immediately present to welcome him into the kingdom. As Walter shuffled along he resumed quietly singing, this time "The Old Rugged Cross" seemed appropriate.

"Hey! Walter. I'm sorry about crashing into you back there".
Walter was surprised to find his neighbor George walking along beside him. He hadn't known who was in the other car. "I suppose you were drunk again". George chuckled, "yeah, and hanging out with sinners. Where do you suppose we are anyway"?

"Why, you fool, we're dead because of your bumbling and on our way to Judgment. I imagine now you're sorry that you didn't accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior long ago. Now with the fires of hell looking you in the face, you should be trembling."

"Nah. I guess I'll just have to take my chances. Besides, it's too late now to weasel out of how I lived my life. It wasn't such a bad life, anyway. I paid for a taxi to take old Hutch home just the other night when he was too far gone to drive, that might count for something."
Walter shook his head in disgust, and tried to walk a little faster to put some distance between himself and the condemned. It didn't do any good George was still in step beside him, so Walter stopped. George stopped as well. "George, you know it probably isn't too late, even now, to repent and ask for God's forgiveness and mercy. All you have to do is say you're sorry, and accept Christ." George replied, "come on, we getting behind", and so they resumed their walk in silence.

Walter couldn't contain himself long, and began again to preach the Word to his companion. "Surely, you don't want to spend eternity in darkness, surrounded by the damned and tortured for all the sins you've committed. You've had a thousand chances to be baptized in the Blood of Christ man, not like some heathen. They might never have had a chance at salvation, and went to their deaths with all their sins upon them. Imagine the suffering that Satan will inflict on those who sacrificed animals on alters dedicated to heathen gods! To burn in hell forever apart from God; wouldn't you rather live in a mansion with angels to wait on you?"

George just shook his head, "I never believed in that stuff. If I get into heaven that'll be fine, but I'm not going to beg. You know I could sure use a stiff drink about now"

Though it seemed that George and Walter hadn't been walking that long, it appeared that they were approaching some sort of intersection. The crowd they walked among slowed, and then stopped. Walter could see that they were before a narrow gate, and that a smaller rocky path lead away downward into gloom. "We're here! At last, oh sweet Jesus welcome me home"! Walter turned to George and said how sorry he was that George had denied God, but that God was Just. In his heart, Walter couldn't help feeling just a little smug that things had turned out just as he always believed they should. If George spent eternities in pain and torment that was God's will, and Walter fully supported the justice of it. He noticed that the rocky path leading away from the gate was still pretty crowded. There seemed to be a large number of bearded men in robes. Must be those Jews and Muslims on their way to Hades, Walter thought.
Suddenly there wasn't anyone between Walter and the gate. He stepped through and found a rickety card table behind which sat an old man with a long white beard wearing a flowing robe. Beyond, Walter could see, endless fields of flowers that made the air heavy with perfume. He could hear the feint sound of stringed music, and distant laughter.

"O.K. Sonny step on up. Let's get on with this." The old man seemed kindly, but Walter thought it curious that St. Peter would speak so crudely.

"Look kid, I'm not St. Peter. I'm God and I talk anyway I please. Now first, let me ask you if you've been sacrificing a perfect goat to me four times a year, and paid proper reverence to those statues of me?
Walter was shocked. "No, Lord. I'm a Christian who has accepted Jesus as my Savior. I've worked hard to spread the Gospels, and avoided all idolatry. Why I'd never even think of making sacrifices like some heathen damned to hell. Don't you recognize me? I've been your devoted servant for over 50 years, surely you have a record."

"Record? I don' need no stinkin' record", God laughed at his little joke. "I always liked that movie. Let Bogart in just for the Dobbs character alone."

"But, you're God! You promised that Christians would live happily with you forever if we only had faith, only believed and obeyed your commands as written in the Bible! I've studied every bit of the Bible, read every word many times. I've attended church and preached your gospel at every opportunity. I made the City Council pass ordinances against pornography, and doing business on Sundays. Our church ran every whore and queer out of town, rather than have their presence corrupt the children. Why, I even tried to have the saloons shut down, but the City Council just wouldn't go that far. In our house, we don't celebrate pagan holidays like Christmas. My children only watch Godly programs on the television, and my teenaged daughter is forbidden to use cosmetics. We pray before every meal, no matter where it is taken, or how the heathens around us stare. I've lived up to every commandment in your Book, and never even taken your name in vain; not once". Walter was on the point of tears.

God just smiled and shook his head. "Shucks, you don't even know my name. Then in a voice of rolling thunder, "I AM GOSHAMTHALLA! I AM, THAT I AM". God paused, chuckled and muttered softly, "and I always eats me spinach". I know you think you've done what was required; I'm giving you some credit for that. Not much, but some. Actually, you've broken more of my laws than you can count, and you've gotten almost nothing right. I put the laws that govern the Universe in place to give you a clue, but you just wouldn't pay attention. I don't care what form you choose to worship me in; I just like to be remembered once in awhile. A bit of roasted goat isn't much if it's given with love, and why can't I be pictured as having six eyes, a dozen arms and a blue nose; sort of droll really. Why couldn't you just get along with one another? I gave you a bit of suffering to keep you occupied, and you turn it into an excuse to up the ante."

Walter was appalled. "Do you mean that anyone can get into heaven? Even those who turn away from the commandments in your Holy Bible?"

"Yep, sometimes. This place is full up with Hindus, Buddhists and bandits. I've got a whole section with nothing but folks who worshiped the Greek and Roman Gods; why I've even got a few who thought I was Nero. You need to learn to chill out dude. I just let in a fellow named George Winthrop because he had a good one about a parrot who thought a glass of whiskey was the sacrament."

"George Winthrop! That man drinks, gambles and curses. He's mocked the church and believers everyday of his life, and you let him in here?"

"Yep, and ole George asked me if I couldn't let you in to. I can't imagine why. Generally folks like yourself are bound for the Pit, but maybe I can let you in if you promise not to cause as much trouble up here as you did when you were living. What do you say? You might actually find the Other Place more to your liking, but if George would vouch for you, you can't be all bad".