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I recently was called upon to deliver a eulogy for a deceased member of our family. In the eulogy I referred to the fact that if we are lucky, some of us find a slice of paradise here on earth. For the deceased, his slice of paradise was simply fishing off a pier in Wildwood, N.J. with his faithful dog beside him. After the service, the good priest mentioned that what I was describing is actually heaven, which posed some complex metaphysical questions for me.
I went fishing once and found the sport much closer to my concept of hell than heaven. The closest that fish play a part in my personal heaven is when they are filleted tableside and accompanied by a good chardonnay. I described my wife’s and my own idea of paradise on earth, the island of Bermuda (Aug. 22), except for the hotel restaurant that charges $15 for a bagel with cream cheese (I am not sure whether that includes toasting the bagel). Heaven it seems, is a relative thing.
For those who believe in an afterlife, the question of whether you can find anything comparable to heaven here on earth is akin to blasphemy. I tend to hedge on whether there is an afterlife. Let’s face it — all of us have been promised good things before that haven’t panned out (like most of my investments). However, I don’t want to foreclose the idea of heaven because that might disqualify me from getting there. In my view, whether it be Bermuda or fishing off a pier in Wildwood, hopefully it is like a movie trailer — a preview of what heaven will be like.
When I was a public school kid attending Catholic instructions, being from public school automatically disqualified you from going straight to heaven when you died. The best you could hope for was purgatory. There was a time when the church taught that the only difference between purgatory and hell was your length of stay. In either place, you roasted in fire like a marshmallow, but in purgatory you got out just in time to turn into a s’more. As I understand it, purgatory no longer involves roasting in fire.
As it is currently described, purgatory is a way station where you spend time until your soul is cleansed. It’s sort of like a cosmic car wash where you don’t have to tip the guy at the end of the line. You can get out more quickly if your survivors pray for you frequently whereas praying for souls in hell will do them no good at all. Those pseudo-Nazis can just stop praying for Hitler right now because he’s not going any place higher up than the discount basement of Dante’s Inferno. There is a problem, it seems to me, with this concept of getting “paroled” out of purgatory through the prayers of the living. Some people have bigger families and more friends than me. Isn’t this a little unfair to introverts and folks who can’t reproduce?
Back to my Catholic instruction days for a moment. At that time, heaven was described as being lucky enough to serve the Lord. I wondered about that because it seemed more like a waiter’s job, without tips. You can see why I was never at the top of my instructions class.
I think the concept of purgatory is brilliant. Really. Few of us figure that we are good enough to go straight to heaven with, for instance, someone who tended to a leper colony. It is a known fact, that most of us tend to shy away from lepers. Leper colonies do not attract many tourists, even those that charge less than $15 for a bagel and cream cheese. We can’t possibly view ourselves as being worthy enough to be on a non-stop flight to heaven with Mother Theresa. No, it seems likely that our lot in the afterlife is to fly coach where there is a long layover at O’Hare before ever getting to heaven. Please note that on the flight to purgatory there is a $100 charge for each piece of luggage and only one restroom. Don’t expect any meal or in-flight movies either. In heaven, all of the seats are first class and lobster is served. The rest of us are on Jet Blue heading to purgatory. If you are going to hell, you fly China Air.
I mean no disrespect but now that we have modernized our idea of purgatory, I think we have to rethink what hell is really like. I think the whole fire thing is highly overrated. I worked with some women who always turned off the air conditioning in our office. It was never warm enough for them, so I don’t think a little eternal fire is going to scare them into leading a good life. Just as everyone’s idea of heaven is a relative thing, I think the same goes for hell. My own idea of hell is having to watch TV with just one channel — QVC. I don’t need hellfire as punishment, just 24 hours of “In the Kitchen with David.”
There is a special circle of hell for a governor who drastically cuts funds for education and gives tax breaks to the fracking industry. Imagine Tom Corbett in purgatory with angry parents and teachers. Call it retribution. SPR
Contact the South Philly Review at editor@southphillyreview.com.
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