Is Hell A Bad Place?

Is Hell a Bad Place?

It was just minutes before an important vote in the Senate, and Senator XYZ was hurrying across the street in front of the Capitol Building in order to be on time for a roll call vote. In his rush, he stepped out in front of tractor-trailer. Mashed flat, the next thing the Senator knew he was standing in front of Saint Peter. Saint Peter greeted him with a warm smile, “It’s an unexpected pleasure to meet you Senator. Let me look for your name in the Lamb’s Book of Life.” Quickly Saint Peter said, “Oh, here it is.” He appeared puzzled as he read. Then he said, “Senator, this is most unusual. Indeed, I have been at this desk for over two-thousand years and have never read this kind of judgment before.” Saint Peter rubbed his chin and said, “Excuse me for a moment; I need to check this out.” The Senator, a bit alarmed, said, “What is it Saint Peter?” Saint Peter said, “This should only take a minute, please be calm.” Peter stepped just out of earshot to a golden phone and made a call. Saint Peter hung up the phone up and returned to his desk. “Well, these most unusual directions in the Book are correct; you get to spend twenty-four hours in hell and then twenty-four hours in heaven. Then you are to return to my desk, and tell me where you want to spend eternity.” With passion, the Senator said, “I’m a leader, I’ll not need to spend twenty-four hours in hell to make my decision, I’ll take heaven!” Saint Peter said, “We have to do what the book tells us.”

Suddenly the Senator found himself falling down, down, down and landing in the middle of a stunningly picturesque golf course. He looked about at the beautiful greens, perfectly cut fairways with golden colored sand in the traps. The sky was crystal clear blue; the temperature perfect, 70 degrees with a light breeze. Out in the distance the Senator saw four golf carts headed his way. As the golf carts got closer, he saw that the carts were full of his old cronies, friends from his time in politics. They pulled up beside him. The hand shaking and the hugging went for several minutes as they welcomed the Senator to hell. His old best friend and former campaign manager said, “Senator XYZ, here are your golf shoes, the very best, and here are a set of the finest clubs. Jump in my cart. We are going to play eighteen holes. When we finish, we are going to host a grand dinner in your honor.”

They were still having the best time swapping old stories as the game ended and they pulled up at the clubhouse for the welcoming banquet. There was the best food and plenty of the most excellent Champaign. They talked and laughed well into the night with the Senator getting a little tipsy. He fell asleep on a pool table. A beautiful scantily clad woman woke him in the morning with a kiss and Bloody Mary. He was just beginning to really come around when he found himself going up, up, up.

Again found himself in front of Saint Peter who said, “Next is your twenty-four hours in heaven.” The Senator rubbing his hands together with a huge smile on his face said, “I cannot wait!” Up, up and up the Senator floating until he was welcomed at the Pearly Gates. There was singing far more beautiful than anything he had ever heard on earth; the streets were paved with gold, and there were indeed many mansions. He had a wonderful warm feeling deep inside. It was so wonderful that time flew by and suddenly Senator XYZ found himself again in front of Saint Peter.

“Well, Senator which shall it be: hell or heaven?” “Saint Peter, I never thought I would say this, heaven is truly wonderful, but all of my old friends are in hell and that’s not a bad place either. I’ll take hell.” “Are you sure?” said Saint Peter. “Yes!” the Senator responded. Suddenly he found himself falling down, down, down. He landed in the middle of a desert. The sky was dark gray and threatening. An appallingly sickening stench filled the boiling hot, sticky humid air. There was this nasty greasy trash scattered all over the desert. In the distance, the Senator saw his old buddies. They were dirty, wearing rags. They were picking up the trash and putting into bags only to see it fall out again and again. The Senator ran up to his old campaign manager and said, “Where is the golf course, that beautiful woman and the Champaign that were here day before yesterday?” His old friend wrapped his arm around the Senator and said, “Senator, you have got to understand, when you were here last time, we were campaigning.”