Death would be an extremely bad thing like most of us paint it, if being dead were painful.
When I die, I wonder what will happen to me. Is there some place like heaven, and will I be able to meet you there someday? I don’t know. There’s no way to know. No one knows what comes after death. But at the very least, we won’t be able to talk until then.
There’s a wide, deep and fast running river between the living and the dead. Once you cross that river, no matter what happens, you’re never coming back. It’s a one way trip.
What is needed is not that a religion be true, meaning that what it claims exist beyond the ink it is written with in a holy book. That is hard to prove. What is important is that a religion be a good system to help us mere mortal deal with our short and troubled life in the universe. Whether what we hope for in the afterlife materializes or not is not important, what is important is that we believe it will materialize and that gives us hope.
And I don’t believe you dead. How can you be dead if I still feel you? Maybe, like God, you changed into something different that I’ll have to speak to in a different way, but you not dead to me Nettie. And never will you be.
Father never went into depth about what happened if I woke up, unable to remember how I’d died, but most definitely in the hands of those not selected to have s’mores and sleepovers for all of eternity.
There are no signs of religion at all; no priest to hear my sins, no God to push open the pearly gates, nor a devil to welcome me with a pitchfork. All of this seems so meaningless.
It is through your experience you find out who you really are and who you are is from finding your own experience who really defines you.
That’s what heaven is. You get to make sense of your yesterdays
Faith is throwing yourself into the arms of the unknown and trusting that you will be safe in the hands of that monster
In a world where people are too languid to make something of themselves out of effort, I sell them hope. What they do with it is up to them. Invariably they drink it and then hurl it down a gutter, but that’s their choice and their freedom. I won’t judge them.