This story begins with a joke, and probably one that you've heard before. After the end of the joke, though, it takes things a bit further and tries to use the situation that the joke set up to explain how I view the possibilities of the afterlife.

A pagan person lives a long, full life, during which they do a little more good than harm, and then dies. After a little while they find themself walking down a dirt road, feeling better than they have felt in years. The sky is blue, the sun is shining, the grass is green, and they are feeling pretty happy. Just about then they notice another person waiting for them a little ways down the road. No god or angel does this persona appear to be, simply an ordinary being much like any other.

"Hello," she says. "Welcome to the afterlife."

Now our pagan friend had figured that something like this was happening, so this declaration doesn't shock them any.

"Hello. Is this what it's really like here? For everyone?" they ask.

"This is only the entrance-way. The actual resorts are just over that hill ahead."

The two move off down the road, crest the hill, and before too long they see other roads branching off of the one they've been traveling. Not far down each of the roads is a collection of structures or fields—each one the very popular-culture picture of what one group thought paradise would be like.

"Which one of these will I be going to?" asks the recently deceased.

"Oh, it's not a matter of choosing one and spending the rest of eternity there," they are told. "You can go ahead and pick one to visit first, and then keep on going from place to place. Information can tell you where friends or family are at any given time. If and when you get tired of paradises you can choose to be reincarnated—or you can go ahead and do that right away."

"Wow. I hadn't expected anything like this," came the startled answer. "Can you show me around a little?"

"Certainly. Come this way."

The two walk along, the guide pointing out various of the locales to the new resident. They walk by an oasis of palm trees and white-walled palaces which echo with laughter and music. They walk by a gigantic wood and stone structure with a high wall, from within which comes the clangor of sword striking shield. From their experiences on Earth the pagan person recognizes these and many others, as well as thousands more they cannot fathom. Finally, just about as they were going to turn around and head back they pass by one final residence.

High granite walls topped with what looks like Mother-Of-Pearl tiles surrounds this place and from within comes the sound of organ music and hymns.

"Try to be quiet when you come round here," says the guide.

"Why? What is this place."

"This is the heaven of the Christians," they are told. "We try not to disturb them because they think they're the only ones here."

That's the end of the joke and the punch-line, but I'm going to use its format to communicate my feelings for just a little while longer. Let's get back to their conversation.

"But I don't understand," says the new person, "why do we have to be quiet? How can they think that they're the only ones here? Didn't they get the same tour as I just did?"

"Of course they did," says the guide. "Our policy here is that everyone gets to see all of the choices available to them. Otherwise it just wouldn't be fair. But when we brought them through they just weren't ready to see it, or didn't want to. Until we got here they didn't see anything that they wanted."

"But can't they leave and visit the other places just like everyone else?"

"They can do that anytime they want to, and sometimes some do, but for the most part they never wonder what's outside of their walls, and they lock the gate from the inside. There are people like that in every one of the other paradises, too. People who couldn't stand seeing the other places on their way in and never try to come out of the one place they've chosen."

"I've got friends and families in some of those places. Can I ever see them again?"

"Of course. You're welcome to enter any and all of the realms here whenever you please. I'll warn you, though, that when they see you they're more likely to assume that you've just been in a different part of their heaven, rather than listening to what you have to say. People have to make that leap of faith for themselves. At any rate, have you chosen where you'd like to start out?"

After a moment of thought the pagan chooses the Elysium Fields, saying that they could use a rest. With that they walk back up the road towards those green meadows.

The end

All contents copyright © 2000-2004 Reverend Gwynarion Elessacar aka Aaron G. Peabody

No materials contained herein may be duplicated or used in any way without the express permission of Aaron G. Peabody or his legal representatives. All of the text, unless otherwise cited, is the original work of Aaron G. Peabody and is protected under Title 17 of the United States Code — 'Copyright Law of the United States of America and Related Laws'. Any parties making illegal use of these materials are subject to prosecution under the laws of the United States of America and are subject to retribution under the code of the Warrior. We know who you are, we know where you live, no you can't hide there, and we will be over shortly.

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