And I realized that there was no need for people that had disabilities on earth to be restored to full functionality here—their physical forms were but an inconsequential aspect of who “they” were; there was no need to reconstitute such a form. You didn’t need arms, or eyes, or legs; there was nothing here that you could not do—there were no barriers, no restraints, and no physical sights or sounds. There was only your awareness, your memory, and your perception.
“In my own case,” I understood from Rick, “Having been singularly unprepared at the end of my earthly existence for this environment here”—and I perceived the usual gentle, self-deprecating humor in his thought—”I am perhaps more than usually understanding of the need to orient and adjust oneself to being here, upon first arriving. So that is why I made sure that I would greet you. My function now is only to help you transition into life here. That is just something that happens to suit my essence; not everyone does this, which is why there was no gigantic reception party waiting for you, as people sometimes imagine. Because of the affection we had for each other while on Earth, it seems appropriate for me to take a hand in getting you acclimated here.”
My thoughts started to formulate the question, “Are there…others here?” but I didn’t need to finish the question, for I already knew the answer: All of the ‘others’ were here—my parents, friends, cousins, coworkers, and former enemies— no one had been lost, or overlooked. While they were not immediately in my awareness right now, as Rick was, I knew that if there were a reason for them to appear, it would take place. There was no rush, no anxiety, no need to “catch up on things”—we all knew the truth, now, so there was no need for chitchat. What would be the point of standard conversation now, anyway? “So, Bob: what’s been happening with you since I last saw you in high school? Oh, really? Three kids, house with a second mortgage, and season tickets for the Kings? Well, it was good seeing you again, buddy; take care.” The idea was absurd; there was no need to share items of “news,” or for recapitulating the mundane events of our lives. Those things didn’t matter, any more.
Yet I suddenly had a flash of awareness of a question dawning that had formerly seemed of critical importance to me. “Is this…Heaven? Purgatory? Or even…Hell?”
I could sense Rick’s warm sympathy, and gentle amusement at my inquiry. “This is simply ‘where you go when you die.’ This is the afterlife, the final reality, but it’s nothing that really corresponds to your earthly theological notions of ‘Heaven,’ ‘Hell,’ or ‘Purgatory.’ Those notions were all invented by people who had never been here, even though they may have had some vague and imprecise intuitions of its existence.”
But for the first time since arriving here, I experienced a sense of tremendous anxiety. Sophia; Sophia; Sophia! What if I had entered “eternity,” but was in a different place from where she was…?
But then, Rick’s presence reassured me. I remembered again that all of the ‘others’ were here—no one had been lost, or overlooked. I was aware of him communicating the thought, “I know that you have waited so long; but I’m going to ask you to wait still longer.”
And my awareness was presented with a choice: Should I attempt to “insist” on seeing Sophia immediately? After all, I had been waiting to be reunited with her for so long…and if she was here…
But then I realized, “How long was that, really?” And I realized how childish it was to think that any interval measured in terms of earthly years was “long”; Eternity is the only time scale that matters. So I chose not to try and actualize my own selfish desires; everything would happen in the appropriate time, and everything was under control.
I knew that my reaching this decision was correct, and I felt Rick’s endorsement and confirmation of it. I felt the warmth and acceptance of his presence, and my anxieties vanished.
“I know you’ve waited a long time, Jobey; and I’m going to ask you to wait just a little bit longer. But please don’t be anxious—Sophia is here, and you will certainly see her as soon as the time is right. But don’t worry: you are both here now, and no one can ever again ‘take’ anything from you, without your consent.”
I sensed him communicating, “I only seek to make sure that you are prepared to meet her, when the time is right.”
—B—
RETROSPECTION AND INTROSPECTION
I would never have imagined that not having any of the usual recurring events we use to mark time (such as our beating heartbeat, the rising and setting of the sun, and so on) gave a “timeless” quality to life here. Time had an entirely different character here, than on earth. Although “time” still existed—in the sense that events still took place “before” and “after” each other—events had a dual nature to them: On the one hand, they were absolutely free from the frantic quality which beset so much of earthly life, because suddenly time was completely open-ended. You didn’t need to try and hurry up to finish something, because there was abundant time for everything. You had no need to seek happiness or pleasure in a few fleeting moments, because you realized how brief and inconsequential such moments were. You had all of eternity, after all.
But although earthly events in one sense lost their importance, you also viewed all events with a much greater degree of seriousness, since you viewed everything in the light of eternity. There were no “insignificant” actions, there were no unworthy attitudes of yours that “didn’t really matter”—everything mattered, because everything affected who you were, and who you were constituted everything. Your social position, your family name, your wealth, your earthly talents: all of that was beneath insignificance here; even your intellect and personality were only of secondary importance. Your earthly accomplishments counted only insofar as they had partially resulted in the creation of who you were now. What difference did it make if you had built huge charitable foundations while you were on Earth, if in your inmost being you were selfish and corrupt?
While living on Earth and imagining what life might be like in the hereafter, I had always thought that my first desire (after trying to find Sophia, of course) would be to try and contact persons that were still on Earth—to let them know that I was OK, that I was here safely in eternity—but I was wrong. I had no desire to try and find out if it were even possible to contact my family,friends, coworkers, or neighbors. The person on earth who would have been most saddened by my death would surely have been my sister, yet I realize now that such “unhappiness” is not really of consequence; for all the pain they cause us during our life, such events as deaths were of no ultimate consequence in eternity. To me now, our “pain” at death seemed like no more than the whining of a child whose favorite swing at the park is being used by another child; or the anxiety of a teenager who feels that life is over because he or she has a prominent pimple on the night of Senior Prom. None of that matters, after all—you’ll understand that, later on; but until then, nothing that I might tell you would persuade you. Even the pain I had experienced after Sophia’s death seemed like a matter of insignificance to me now. I thought of all the childish ramblings in my Journal, and how passionately I had once felt about them. But ultimately, what difference do a few earthly years of loneliness make? What I was experiencing on Earth was not “reality”—this is. The sooner your years of life on earth are finished, the better it is for you, in a very real sense.
Yet I realized that there would be no point to trying to communicate these truths to earthly people, who were still totally immersed in their temporal struggles and concerns. Suppose that I were to try and tell them that “the life they were living in such quiet desperation really wasn’t the end—there is a life beyond it, and the life beyond is the only one that matters”? I knew now that communicating such information to a person on earth might actually be counter-productive; what would an earthly person do with such information? It might cause them to completely abandon earthly pursuits, and sit alone in a monastery, slowly starving t
hemselves to death. It was doubtful if any of the accomplishments of humanity—such as they were—would have been achieved if humans were certain, rather than merely hopeful, of life after death. And yet their deeds on earth were significant, in that they determined who you were when you entered this realm, as well as your ability to make progress. Not surprisingly, after I reflected fully about it, the current arrangement— whereby earthly people were wholly occupied with earthly concerns, and had no communication from this realm—was obviously the proper nature of things, and there was no reason to question or interfere with it.
And I sensed that even if it were possible for me to communicate with someone on Earth (and I had experienced nothing so far to make me think that such communication was even possible; there appeared to be an absolute, unbridgeable disjunction between the earthly realm and this realm), the earthly person would-n’t necessarily be persuaded by my words. Suppose that someone had appeared to me during the midst of my torment over Sophia’s death, or during my “quest” to be reunited with her, and told me that “Your sufferings are basically unimportant, in the light of eternity”—what would have been my reaction? Absolute disbelief, of course; how could I possibly believe someone who told me that my sorrow for Sophia was insignificant, when it was so clear to me that it was all-encompassingly important? What was it that the gospel of Luke (16: 31) had said, “If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead.”
In addition to not seeking to contact anyone on earth, I found that I had no burning desire to encounter again here most persons that I had known in earthly life, such as Ted Thornock, and others—because I knew that they were here, and they were all right, that nothing could really harm them; the condition they were in right now was far better than any other condition they were in while on earth. I had a sense of complete assurance that removed all sense of anxiety about everyone. There was no need to talk with my old First Grade teacher, or my best friend in junior high school. If there was a legitimate reason for me to experience someone I knew from the past—as was the case with my Uncle Rick—I knew that it would indeed take place, in its own good time.
I found that most of what I had imagined would be my overpowering strong desires to see famous people from the past that I admired while on earth— Gandhi, Einstein, Martin Luther King Jr., and others—had disappeared. Their wisdom and knowledge, that I used to so admire while I was on earth, were completely overshadowed by the realities I was currently experiencing; the most brilliant person on Earth knew almost nothing in comparison to what there truly was in the universe to know.
Really, in the final analysis, life here wasn’t communicable in words; it was an experience, and could only be described in experiential terms, to one who had shared the experience. Even if an earthly person should be inclined to believe my “otherworldly” insights, I realized that the overpowering effect of human experience would quickly overwhelm any such “vision” that someone on Earth had, anyway. Many of us have had brief glimpses of transcendence during our earthly lives—and while it may have a profound effect on us temporarily, and we may even remember the experience for the rest of our lives—it ultimately has but little effect on the daily course of our lives.
And too often, the vision of transcendence fades, leaving behind only a dim afterglow, of too little power to carry any lasting influence on our behavior.
* * *
What does one “do” in eternity? I could almost smile as I remembered pictures in the literature of groups such as the Jehovah’s Witnesses of people seemingly engaged in a perpetual midday picnic; or Pentecostals who thought that we would be singing “Contemporary Christian” gospel songs in a never-ending worship service after our deaths. In reality, you had neither the time nor the inclination for such activities, because you were constantly engaged in a relentless process of self-examination.
Your memory was absolutely flawless, even about details of events that you had long ago forgotten during your earthly life. You could “observe” the events of your life, witnessing your inner dialogue, your thoughts and feelings, as if you were simply an impartial observer, rather than a participant. The pain of comparing your outward actions with your inward awareness was intense: The deceit, the insincerity, the outright lies told with a perfectly straight face, the hidden motivations, were all horrifying to recall. Events of which you had thought yourself justifiably proud were in fact virtual monuments to self-interest and hypocrisy.
And yet, when recalling some events, you realized that they still raised within you a semblance of the same old passions, and you had to remind yourself of where you were, and force yourself to perceive the matter accordingly, in the light of eternity. Quietly, you would remind yourself that an event that seemed like such a great injustice at the time was in fact of no lasting import. You could review, and re-review each event, trying to discover the inward source of your feelings and attitudes toward it, and try to learn from them. Such rigorous self-examination was an unbelievably arduous process, and had to be taken at its own pace. However, there was no “outside” force that was compelling you to proceed at a certain rate; compulsion was a thing of the past. If you chose not to move forward, then you simply remained where you were.
However, there were certainly other diversions of less difficulty. For example, I discovered that although we could appear physically in any form we chose (I thought with amusement that those persons on Earth who were so concerned with their personal appearance—who would get face lifts, tummy tucks, or nose jobs; wear wigs or dye their hair; get tattooed, branded, or pierced; wear expensive jewelry, etc.—would have been dismayed, since one tended not to care about such things as outward physical appearance any more. We might appear in a physical form such as we manifested on Earth, or—more frequently—we didn’t appear in any physical form at all. There was no need: we just know in whose presence we are, and there is thus no need to see them visually; the essential element in communication was taking place within ourselves, so there was no need for us to be staring at each other.
Nor were the usual earthly motivations for physical presence here: there was there any need to be searching each other’s eyes for evidence about the truth or dishonesty of what they were saying. Although you realized that it was possible to lie, or tell an untruth, it would have been foolish to do so. There is also no need for anyone to lie here; there is no deception that will not be immediately apparent, and there is no one you would be able to “fool.” Because truly it had been said, “There is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed; and hid, that shall not be known.” (Mt 10:26)
* * *
I had been pondering these matters for seemingly a long time, trying to come to grips with my newfound knowledge; there were still so many questions that I had that were troubling me.
And I was aware of the presence of my Uncle Rick again.
My mind asked, “Is this where God is?”
I sensed his answer: “Of course. However, it will be some time before you are really able to grasp that reality.”
I asked: “What is the purpose of earthly life, then? If this is our ultimate goal, why bother with the earthly prelude? Why aren’t we simply born here, since it is our ultimate destiny?”
I again sensed his answers: “Our life on earth is where we become individuals; where we develop into identifiable persons. If we had all existed only on this level of existence, we would not have developed into who we are; being from identical circumstances, we would be like unchanging, homogeneous angels, with nothing to distinguish one from another. It is living under the challenges and limitations of earthly life that makes us develop into distinctive individuals. For instance, suppose that one is born into a life of poverty; people will react to this challenge in different ways—some will fall into despondency, and allow their circumstances to gain mastery over them; others may be stimulated to action by the challenge
, and will use it as motivation to overcome their environment and upbringing; still others will use their poverty as an excuse to fall into immoral or criminal behavior. But it is our very reactions to the differences in our environments that create the opportunities, or the pitfalls; if we had all come into being in this ‘perfect’ environment, with exactly equivalent original endowments, we would have been no more than robots, turning out exactly the same.”
I wanted to know, “What about the fact that these differences in opportunity make some people respond in ways that are, well, unfortunate? People from poor or abusive environments may grow up as criminals, or as psychologically damaged persons. How do such persons react when they arrive here?”
My uncle appeared in a physical form temporarily, so that I could once again see his wry smile, which produced an emotion corresponding to a smile on my part. He made it known to me that, “You must realize, Jobey, that once our earthly lives are over, we are all in a very real sense ‘starting over,’ and many of the persons that during our earthly lives we would have thought would be virtually beyond redemption turn around instantly once they arrive here. And this should not be surprising: you should consider the very great degree to which our conflicts while on Earth were simply due to the situations we were in, which are no longer a factor here. You might have conflicts with your spouse because he or she didn’t write down a check in your checkbook, but what difference do such matters make here? You might have conflicts with your coworkers because you feel they are making you do an unfair share of the work, but what difference does that make here? You have conflicts with your neighbors over who needs to sweep up the leaves from a tree that overlaps both your yards, but what meaning do such disputes have here? None whatsoever. Wealth, breeding, social position, whether one was a ‘master’ or a ‘servant’ are here irrelevant. So in practice, the mere removal of the concerns of earthly life eliminates about 99% of the potential cause for disagreement among us. Simply removing the perceived need to acquire possessions in order to ‘get ahead’ by itself removes a tremendous source of tension and unhappiness.”
Beyond Heaven and Earth Page 89