Sunday Sermonette: Heaven Can Wait
If there's a rock 'n' roll heaven
You know they've got a hell of a band
The Unindicted Co-Conspirator and I watched The Invention of Lying the other night. In this comedy, Ricky Gervais plays the only man with the ability to lie in an absolutely truthful society. One of the funniest scenes is when he steps onto the sidewalk and tells a beautiful blonde who's just given him the brush-off, ”The world’s going to end unless we have sex right now!” Her expression changes from disdain to deep concern and alarm. “Do we have time to get to a motel, or do we need to do it right here?”
Once at the motel, "A Cheap Place to Have Intercourse with a Near Stranger", he regrets the deception and makes up another that NASA has saved the planet and that it's no longer necessary. She wants to sleep with him anyway, but in a scene reminiscent of Svengali's attempted seduction of Trilby, he sadly walks away. He knows it's not real. I heard John Barrymore's deep sorrowful voice from the 1931 movie in my head, "It is only Svengali, talking to himself again."
Later, he tries to ease his dying mother's fear of eternal oblivion by telling her she'll go to a happy place full of love where she'll meet her old friends and family and be young again and it will last forever. Soon everyone wants to hear more, and he finds that he has invented religion.
I must confess that even as a religious person, I had little interest or belief in heaven. It seemed so clear that everyone was making it up from whole cloth as they went along. I wanted to believe that religion had to make sense in the here and now, not in the great by and bye. If I studied long enough and searched hard enough, I'd find the true value of my faith in life, not death. Such thoughts gave me a nice warm feeling, so I didn't actually have to consider the matter more seriously.
Since heaven is where our fondest desires are realized, everyone's heaven is different. Desert-dwelling tribes dream of gardens and flowing streams. Sexually repressed Muslims people those gardens with beautiful dark-eyed virgins and lovely youths. Family-focused Mormons see their marriages continuing on into eternity. African-American slaves yearned for a heaven where the tables were turned and they were the richly-dressed masters.
From my ancestors' Happy Western Isles of Tir-na-nÓg to the great feasting-hall of Odin to the brightly bejeweled New Jerusalem, all cultures and peoples have dreamt of heaven. None of the dreams, however, bear much scrutiny. I’ve yet to encounter a heaven concept that was intelligible and coherent. Most sound like a Dante-esque Chamber of Ironic Punishments. “Like singing? Well now you’ll sing forEVER! MUWHAHAHAHAA!”
A study published in the Journal of the American Medical Association found that the most religious were the least prepared for death, despite their stated belief in a beautiful afterlife.. They were less likely to have executed a healthcare proxy, power of attorney, a living will or a do-not-resuscitate order. At the same time they were more likely to demand heroic measures at the end of life, such as mechanical ventilation, CPR, or hospitalization rather than hospice.
Because this is not Ricky Gervais's world where no one lies even to themselves, I don't know how many people really believe in heaven. Perhaps some have less faith than they claim.Of one fact I can be reasonably certain: they won't be disappointed. No one has ever come back and complained.
You know they've got a hell of a band
The Unindicted Co-Conspirator and I watched The Invention of Lying the other night. In this comedy, Ricky Gervais plays the only man with the ability to lie in an absolutely truthful society. One of the funniest scenes is when he steps onto the sidewalk and tells a beautiful blonde who's just given him the brush-off, ”The world’s going to end unless we have sex right now!” Her expression changes from disdain to deep concern and alarm. “Do we have time to get to a motel, or do we need to do it right here?”
Once at the motel, "A Cheap Place to Have Intercourse with a Near Stranger", he regrets the deception and makes up another that NASA has saved the planet and that it's no longer necessary. She wants to sleep with him anyway, but in a scene reminiscent of Svengali's attempted seduction of Trilby, he sadly walks away. He knows it's not real. I heard John Barrymore's deep sorrowful voice from the 1931 movie in my head, "It is only Svengali, talking to himself again."
Later, he tries to ease his dying mother's fear of eternal oblivion by telling her she'll go to a happy place full of love where she'll meet her old friends and family and be young again and it will last forever. Soon everyone wants to hear more, and he finds that he has invented religion.
I must confess that even as a religious person, I had little interest or belief in heaven. It seemed so clear that everyone was making it up from whole cloth as they went along. I wanted to believe that religion had to make sense in the here and now, not in the great by and bye. If I studied long enough and searched hard enough, I'd find the true value of my faith in life, not death. Such thoughts gave me a nice warm feeling, so I didn't actually have to consider the matter more seriously.
Since heaven is where our fondest desires are realized, everyone's heaven is different. Desert-dwelling tribes dream of gardens and flowing streams. Sexually repressed Muslims people those gardens with beautiful dark-eyed virgins and lovely youths. Family-focused Mormons see their marriages continuing on into eternity. African-American slaves yearned for a heaven where the tables were turned and they were the richly-dressed masters.
From my ancestors' Happy Western Isles of Tir-na-nÓg to the great feasting-hall of Odin to the brightly bejeweled New Jerusalem, all cultures and peoples have dreamt of heaven. None of the dreams, however, bear much scrutiny. I’ve yet to encounter a heaven concept that was intelligible and coherent. Most sound like a Dante-esque Chamber of Ironic Punishments. “Like singing? Well now you’ll sing forEVER! MUWHAHAHAHAA!”
A study published in the Journal of the American Medical Association found that the most religious were the least prepared for death, despite their stated belief in a beautiful afterlife.. They were less likely to have executed a healthcare proxy, power of attorney, a living will or a do-not-resuscitate order. At the same time they were more likely to demand heroic measures at the end of life, such as mechanical ventilation, CPR, or hospitalization rather than hospice.
Because this is not Ricky Gervais's world where no one lies even to themselves, I don't know how many people really believe in heaven. Perhaps some have less faith than they claim.Of one fact I can be reasonably certain: they won't be disappointed. No one has ever come back and complained.