by Dan Edmund
Chapter 5 - The Dawning of A New Day
I began to stir as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains. Lazily, I stretched my limbs and opened my eyes after a long, deep and wonderful sleep. Unconsciously, I muttered Jenny's name, then realized I had died and was now in another life in seemingly another world. However, the thought of being without Jenny now no longer saddened me. There was something about this world, an ambience that was like a drug in which prolonged sadness seemed impossible. Besides, she will soon be here anyway, I reminded myself. I thus sprang out of bed and opened the curtains and felt the euphoria rise even higher. Straddled underneath a clear blue sky was a pristine, almost mystical beauty that I had never seen before my death. I stared in awe towards the distance, beyond the other side of the village, to that majestic peak of Anastasis onto which I had only yesterday awoken from death. For a moment or two, I just stared in wonder.
"Good morning, dear." I spun round and saw my mother's welcoming smile. Then, with outstretched arms, she rushed towards me, embracing me and tenderly kissing my cheek. "How do you feel this morning?"
"I feel great, like living in some fantastic but wonderful dream."
Mum chuckled. "Of course, it's only natural. But as you can see, it's not a dream, is it?"
I shook my head. "No, I now know that it's not." I then pointed to the lofty peak in the background. "Yet, on that mountain back there, as I had told you yesterday, there was a time when I wasn't sure whether I was dreaming or not."
"Well, never mind now, we're so glad to have you again."
"Yes, and it's sure great to see you and Dad also!" I then laughed and added, "And Cory!"
She giggled. "Yes, we mustn't forget Cory!"
"So where is he now?"
"Cory? Oh, he's probably roaming about somewhere. He often does, especially in the mornings." She held my arm. "But let's talk whilst having breakfast. Your father has just prepared some of his delicious apple pie."
Over breakfast, my parents explained what had happened since my death way back in 1999. Armageddon, that long awaited event so many Christians throughout the centuries had awaited, had indeed finally come in 2055, just as a global Ebola pandemic was sweeping the world. By the 2040's, the world had already suffered several considerable catastrophes. Global warming, on a scale far more devastating than had been predicted, had caused chaos with the Earth's weather pattern, resulting not only in unprecedented violent hurricanes and flooding, but global famines as well. This in turn, triggered either wars or anarchy throughout the world.
Upon hearing of all these disasters, my appetite for apple pie suddenly waned. I naturally enough feared for Jenny, and I wandered whether she had died during those horrific global disasters.
"It was a dying world, son," Dad added solemnly, "and had it not been for Divine intervention, it seems everybody would have died!" I then recalled the words from the Gospel of Matthew: 'For there shall be then great tribulation, such as was not from the beginning of the world till now, no, nor may be. And if those days were not shortened, no flesh would have been saved.'
Mum, noticing my troubled look, held my hand reassuringly. "But it's over now. Nobody suffers anymore, not since the last thirty years. It's as if the world has been given another chance."
I nodded. "Is that how long Paradise has existed? Thirty years?" They both nodded. I did some quick mental calculations. "So if Armageddon happened in 2055, we're now in the year 2085. That means I've been dead for 86 years!" I heaved a deep breath, then sighed. "That seems weird because to me it seems I only died yesterday!"
"Yeah, it felt the same way to me. I've only been here these last three years," my father replied. "But your ma has been here about ten. Many in the village have been here for more than twenty. A few, although they're mostly in different parts of Paradise, are even Armageddon survivors, and thus have been here since the beginning."
"Carlos has been here almost that long," my mother added. "He was resurrected at the very beginning of Paradise."
"Carlos?" I asked.
"Yes, our village spiritual mentor that I mentioned yesterday. But you also met him last night. He's the one who introduced you and gave the public prayer within the Divine Light." My mother paused and her eyes lit up. "Actually, this would also interest you. Carlos used to be, and actually still is, a musical instrument maker. He also plays the guitar, and sings beautifully, doesn't he, Paul?"
"Yeah, he sure does! And from what your ma told me, you must be one heck of a guitarist yourself. Anyway, Carlos often brings his guitar with him where he goes, and he may even have it with him at the building program this morning."
"Building program?" I asked.
"For the Great Resurrection, of course!" my mother eagerly replied. "We've been told that soon not only the 'Millenarian Brethren' are to be resurrected, but millions, perhaps even billions of others throughout the ages."
"Yes, true, son," my father agreed. "That's why we're starting to build so many houses. I usually help out with some of the building. We all do, at least some of the time, even your mother. So, if you like, we can all go there this morning and help out."
I laughed. "But I don't know the first thing about building houses."
Dad gave me a wink and then slapped me playfully on the shoulder. "Well, son, you can always learn. Besides, here in Paradise, it's all made so easy for you, like cooking, getting food and the like. There's nothing to it, as you've already seen. Of course, if folks really wanted to, they could even sleep out under the stars because it never gets cold or rains."
"Never rains?" I queried.
"Yep! Never! It don't need to." He chuckled, then added, "I'm not quite sure why, but I think it has to do with the soil always having moisture. The water actually seems to come from under the ground, as if there's an endless supply. That's why the rivers and lakes always have plenty of water. I think even the air contains lots of water, although you wouldn't know it because it's never humid."
I stared in amazement. "Again different laws of science?"
Dad grinned. "Yep! But what I wanted to say was that even though you could live out in the open, you'd rather live in a house, wouldn't you?"
"Well, yes, of course."
"Well, it's the same with everybody else. Besides, people work around here because it's good for the soul, as the saying goes."
"Is it?" I sniggered. "No, I'm only joking. Sure, I'll help. So what time do we start?"
"Well, any time you want to, son. But after breakfast, I suppose." Dad chuckled. "Besides, don't worry about the time. We don't use clocks anymore."
"I'm mighty glad to hear it," I said.
However, from our ongoing conversation during breakfast, I discovered that at least some routines were still followed, and although not essential, were nonetheless encouraged. Usually, for at least part of the morning, most were engaged in some kind of communal work, from building homes and furniture, to fruit picking and cooking. Yet, afternoons were always looked upon as recreation times in which people devoted themselves to their hobbies and interests, be it painting, music, games, socializing, or simply idling the time away under a shady tree. It simply did not matter, as long as it did not conflict with the moral precepts of a world ruled under the theocracy of a benign, gentle and loving God. However, being a theocracy, worship was also an integral part of life.
"You see, dear," my mother explained, "the Divine Light arrives every month, on the first day of the month, and it's a most wonderful occasion, as you saw for yourself."
"Yes, I did," I agreed. "So is that our only religious service?"
"No," my mother replied. "In the evening of every seventh day, we hold our service in our Hall of Worship, where we have prayers, sing hymns, listen to instructions from our spiritual mentor, as well as readings from the 'Paradise Text.'"
"What's that?" I asked.
"That has become our main sacred text," my mother explained. "It's also been written under inspiration, but here in Paradise. It's like an update on
the original Bible, but directed towards people living in Paradise."
"Then the old Bible is no longer used?" I asked, somewhat surprised.
My mother smiled sympathetically. "No, it's still used, but we use an improved perfect version which does away with all the little variations that existed in the various versions and translations we had in the 'Old World.'"
"Really!"
"But that's only our worship routine," my father said as he finished his last slice of pie. "There's more."
I gave a mock ironic laugh. "It sounds like we're not so free after all!"
Dad chuckled. "No, son, you're wrong. It's nothing like the 'Old World' we'd known. We have far more freedom now. Here, nobody is forced to do anything. We only do things because we want to. That's why life is far happier." He then drained his herbal tea. "But what I was trying to say is that tonight we're having our Love Feast."
"Love Feast? What do you mean?"
"Well, son, although we never had them in our church services before the Paradise, they are mentioned in the Epistle of Jude as an early Christian custom. So, once a week, we get together in our Fellowship Hall, where we enjoy a community meal and fellowship together." He again chuckled. "They'll sure make a big fuss about you tonight, you being the new arrival in Paradise and all that. But anyway, that's tonight. But this morning, as I already said, there's construction work going on." He paused, then added, "Mind you, you don't have to come."
"No, Dad, I want to come. I want to experience everything here in Paradise."