In early translations of the bible the word for “hell” had one meaning, “out of God’s sight” or, as the Talmud teaches, to “cease to exist.” In later versions of the bible (KJV) hell has been understood to mean a life of torment and I wonder how this mistranslation came to be.
I ponder this as I stand in line in the Guff, or Hall of Souls, for what seems like the 5th time while waiting on a new body.
I turn my gaze from my fidgeting hands and look forward and then turn and look behind me. The space between each soul seems insurmountable in its distance, like pine trees on opposite sides of a vast desert. But, also, oddly, we feel as close as petals on a flower.
Some of the souls look so wise and knowing. Others seem so young, fragile and broken. I wonder about the discrepancy but no answers come. My curiosity turns and, I wonder how they see me, if they see me at all. Am I one of the wise ones or one of the broken?
I know I will never be an angel; I mean, ha! I’m surprised I’m here now but, besides my failings, the roles of "Angel" are mostly already cast and are really only visible in 7th Heaven, a place which is far beyond anything I will ever achieve. Also, I’m a slow learner, I may have to recycle many more times before I can grasp even the basics of how all this works.
I look ahead in the line and I see souls I think I know. Is that the grandfather that killed my dog out of cruelty? What the fuck is that bastard doing here! I’m confused.
Is that my son Patrick? He died when he was 7 months old but look at him now! I feel a longing to hold him kick in. I know I’m not allowed to go ask and if I do, I’ll lose my place in line. As I contemplate my options, I think of that song I’d heard on earth in this last life, Tears in Heaven.
Would you know my name, if I saw you in heaven? Would it be the same, if I saw you in heaven?
I think of all the times I pushed Patrick’s carriage through the park in Frankfurt. I think of the pink nosed shepherd, Königin, that loved him so much. I look at that soul ahead of me and wonder if he’s had other bodies since then? If I cut the line and went to him, would he even know my name?
Like a shot from a gun, I’m kicked in the gut with all those feelings of insecurity that plagued me in my last life. A mother that never wanted me; my always begging for her love. I sigh as I feel the rejection wash over me.
Looking backwards I see the line is equally as long but, I see fewer souls who I think I know and realize this is a good thing. The ones I left behind are still on earth and still finding their path.
Turning back forward, I strain in some vain attempt to see if the front of the line is visible or to determine if I’ve moved up a spot and I realize there are now empty places ahead of me. This surprises me.
Suddenly, a conversation I had with an old guy in a nursing home flashes into my mind. It went something like this: “When do you think we die?” He says “When no one remembers you.” That seemed like an odd answer but, now, I think, I was asking a corporal question and he was giving me a spiritual answer. I chuckle. I really am a slow learner.
I began to focus my attention on those now empty spaces and it gives me a chill. Are they empty because no one remembers them? Was there no one ahead of them that cared to remember them? No one behind? No one left on earth? Did God not remember them? None of the angels?
Time passes. It’s not like there’s a big clock on the wall but one can tell. I feel weaker than I did when I first got here. But the good news is, I can see the front of the line. It should only take… and I stop because I realize that, for as long as I’ve been here, I still don’t know how they measure time here in The Guff. In my mind I use the only point of reference I have, the time from my last physical body on earth. So maybe, in another 50-75 years, I’ll get a new physical body? Or maybe we're only here for 5 minutes?
The next realization I have, the front of the line seems near enough to touch. I’m excited. I’m wondering what body I will get this time. A cricket? A frog? A starving child in Africa? A great king? What memories will they wipe from me and which will they leave behind? What lessons will I get to learn or which lessons did I fail to learn that I will face again? Will I get to see souls I’ve known before? Will my soul connect with yours?
I feel excitement. I feel movement forward.
And then, nothingness.