What a question that is. I’m granted a day to visit somewhere that obviously doesn’t exist to look for somebody I used to know and I have to look for someone in particular. Who would it be?
Having wandered through the Pearly Gates and managed to blag my way past St Peter (there was no truck stop, as suggested by REM), I’d have 24 hours to look for someone. Where would I begin?
I’ve done some extensive research (Googled stuff) on the subject and it turns out that over 100 billion people have died since human beings turned up. At this point, we need to make some rather big assumptions. Were all of them ‘good’ people? It’s probably fair to say that some of them weren’t particularly good people. Good old St Peter will have had to have made some big decisions so, for the sake of argument, let’s assume he refused entry to 10 billion bad people (Hitler, Peter Sutcliffe, Jimmy Saville, Margaret Thatcher and a few more?) and 90 billion made the cut. That’s a lot of people.
I’ve decided I’ll take a day trip to seek out my mum and dad. How will it work? Presumably, God will have laid on several million tour guides so I’ll rely on them. They will be take me to my loved ones, easy as that. But how? Are there streets, towns, cities and countries? Will God have kept a register? If so, how does he do it? Does he simply remember everything or does he have a celestial laptop? Or will I simply be left to it? No tour guides, just 24 hours in the company of 90 billion people who have survived their own deaths for no obvious reason?
The truth is I’ve taken it far too seriously. A day trip to heaven – and I’m entitled to a reduced fare on account of my seniors railcard – is probably not going to happen. It’s a nice little thought, a dream to meet some people you love very much, but are now dead. And we’re all entitled to nice thoughts and dreams.
This is how I see religion and the belief in a God. We’d like to live forever and when our life on earth ends, we’d like to be transported to another world where we would be happy ever after with those we loved when they were alive.
I wouldn’t, actually, because I don’t want to see my frail old mum, living a life of pain, or my stepfather full of Parkinson’s and dementia. And I’d hate the idea of being under 24 hour surveillance by a celestial dictator.
Who would I look for in heaven? It depends on whether you believe in it. If you do, you will never be disappointed because you’ll never know after you die because, in all probability you’ll stay dead. I don’t expect to ever meet someone who’s dead and when I’m dead people can meet me, but I won’t know because I’ll be dead.
24 hours in heaven? Tulsa would be better. At least we know it actually exists.
