The Nature of Heaven and Hell

I’ve been pondering the afterlife, motivated by a nightly prayer routine that includes the hope that my deceased family members are in Heaven. As a lifelong Catholic and the son of a woman quite literally raised by nuns, praying that loved ones are in Heaven is a thing. The question is: What is Heaven, and by contrast, what is hell?

My suspicions about the afterlife have evolved since the days of daily religion class at St, Cecilia’s Catholic School. No doubt, Sisters Maria, Patricia, and Virginia are giving me the hairy eyeball at the moment. Still, the notion of places above and below doesn’t necessarily track for me—an opinion I share with Bart Ehrman. But we’ll get to him momentarily. The idea of the afterlife seems to make less sense as a schism between good and bad people, and more of a community of souls—perhaps the analogy of a river or ocean of entities swirling together for the most intimate of relationships. Hold on, you say, because the Bible tells us about Heaven and Hell. Besides, there must be a reward for the good and punishment for those unkind, “evil” ones who sided against God. Okay, let’s look at that.

The afterlife started off in the Old Testament as a pretty bleak outcome. I believe the name of the place where the dead went was called Sheol. Jacob in Genesis 37:36 first mentions it when he is told of his son Joseph's death. "I shall go down to my son a mourner unto Sheol. [Note that in the Catholic Bible, it comes up under Genisis 37:35 and Sheol is substituted with “nether world.”] For the most part, Sheol was a place of nothingness—simply the ultimate eternal destination of those who passed. The assumption of the ancient Jews was that you die and into the “pit” you go. It’s neither Heaven nor Hell, it is just where the dead go—oblivion, really. Even later in Psalms, it’s just the grave or pit rather than a place of an afterlife.

Ultimately, though, the Bible reveals that there would eventually be a resurrection of the dead, the faithful having earned what the Book of Daniel (12:2-3, 12:13) mentions as “live forever” while the naughty would suffer in “everlasting horror.” Those are your first signs of Heaven and Hell, reward and punishment, in the Old Testament—that I know of, anyway.

Somewhere between Daniel and the coming of Jesus Christ, the notion of an afterlife evolved. Now, some of that is surely influenced by the nature of the Gentiles, of which many were Greek or heavily influenced by Greece. Consequently, there’d be some assimilation of Greek philosophy into the DNA of the New Testament. Indeed, it’s crucial to the New Testament because Paul was raised a Greek-speaking Jew. And as time wore on, some of that Greek influence—particularly the concept of Hades—worked its way into his thinking. This where we bring back Bart Erhman.

Ehrman examines the question of Heaven and Hell quite a bit and spoke about it on a recent NPR broadcast. He is a distinguished professor of religious studies at The University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. Here’s the rub, however: Although a former altar boy in the Episcopal Church and later a born-again fundamentalist evangelical Christian, Ehrman is now an agnostic atheist.  He says he doesn’t really know if there is a superior being in the universe, but he doesn’t believe there is. Ehrman admits he knows nothing, really, nor does he believe in anything.  Nevertheless, he is incredibly well versed in scripture and, to be honest, brings a solid foundation of history to the discussion. His only weakness is his lack of faith, or, perhaps, disillusionment.

Nevertheless, Ehrman concurs with my statement that our assumptions about Heaven and Hell come not from the Old Testament; although he takes it a step further and says not even the actual teachings of Jesus Christ. According to Ehrman, Heaven and Hell is an afterthought by the Gospel authors and tempered heavily with an impatience with the Lord’s time frame for bringing the Kingdom of God.

Say what?

First, you have to understand that authors, be they of fiction, nonfiction, or scriptures bring their own viewpoints to the subject matter. No matter how detached one might pretend to be, a little editorial or artistic license works its way in. It’s human nature. And that’s where a little Greek mythos comes into our New Testament picture of the afterlife.

Having been raised in Turkey among a heavy Greek influence (yes, many Greeks lived in Turkey—probably much of the reason for mutual Greco-Turkish consternation), must have introduced Paul to the concept of Hades, that moment where the spirit, the soul, is separated from the body and transported or transmuted to the underworld. It’s in this afterplace where good and bad people split. But hold onto that.

Back to Ehrman who makes two important historical points: One is that there was a brand of Jews he calls the apocalypticists, to which he assigns both Paul and Jesus. Apocalypticists evolved the opinion that suffering in the world is because people sin against God, for which the sinner is punished. Essentially, evil, usually personified in the devil or as Satan, along with his followers, is aligned against God and thereby spawns global misery. This viewpoint began, according to Ehrman, 200 years before Jesus. They believed that God would soon destroy forces of evil, enabling the world to resume its utopia and for those people who were on the side of God—be they alive or dead, with the righteous dead being resurrected. God’s new kingdom would be here on Earth. However, as time went on, it was clear that the end times were, well, not on time. Or, at least, the end times weren’t on the early Christian timeline.  

But Jesus said...

Christ taught us that the Kingdom of God is coming. We tend to read that as the end of all time, Judgement Day, the Heavenly Kingdom. Ehrman makes a compelling case that Jesus didn’t so much believe in Heaven as an apocalypticist Jew, not in the separation of soul and body. God will destroy the forces of evil, raise the dead, and those who have been on God's side, especially those who follow Jesus' teachings, will enter the new kingdom here on Earth.

Ehrman says, “They'll be physical. They'll be in bodies. And they will live here on Earth—where the paradise will be. So Jesus taught that the kingdom of God, this new physical place, was coming soon, and those who did not get into the kingdom were going to be annihilated.”

“Please hold.”

When this didn’t happen when everyone, as in early Christians, thought, well, it must be that Jesus was talking a longer calendar. Consequently, Jesus must have meant that the coming of the Kingdom of God is in the afterlife. Thus, Paul concepted that the good would have residence with Christ in Heaven until the end of creation. This launches our idea of Heaven and Hell—continued existence without physical remains. If you’re good—you live in Heaven; if not so good, Hell. Gentiles bought into it because so many were converts were from Greek influences. These were people already accepting of life after death.

What about Revelations? My personal view is that Revelations is an allegory of the battle been early Christianity and the Roman Empire. Although, Revelations tracks with the apocalypticst viewpoint while being wholly counter to a forgiving God. Still, Ehrman makes a compelling point that screwing up for 70 years earning you an eternity or even trillions of years in agony seems pretty extreme.

Then, if Heaven and Hell as we’ve come to know them are seemingly constructs, then what is the afterlife and how does it relate to Heaven and Hell?

Here’s my thinking: If we are indeed imbued with an inherent spirit, intelligence, energy—all comprising the soul, then it is not something snuffed out by physical death. A star explodes and yet its remnants give birth to other stars. In other words, energy is infinite. I genuinely believe we exist beyond the body. Of course, Neil DeGrasse Tyson dismisses this because he asks, “Can you remember before you were born?” No, stupid, because I had not been created prior to conception. My soul had not existed prior to my conception. God may have known me before my creation, but that is only because God is infinite and not bound by linear time.

A sidebar, by the way, God is a very small word trying to encompass something way beyond our understanding. Keep that in mind.

River of dreams

Back to the soul and what happens after death. Imagine the afterlife is a community of souls. Earlier I used the analogy of a river or ocean of entities swirling together for the most intimate of relationships. This began from a film I saw as a boy that really resonated with me—to this day. Houseboat starred Cary Grant playing a character whose estranged wife died, and with whom his three children came to live. In a very cool scene where Grant explains the afterlife to his youngest son struggling to understand death and the loss of his mother, they’re sitting on the side of the houseboat floating on a river. Grant holds up a pitcher of water and says it’s like the boy's Mom, the pitcher is her body, and the water her spirit. He pours the water into the river. The pitcher is empty but where did the water go? That’s like death, Grant explains. Her spirit goes into the universe and a great river. She’s not gone.

It makes sense that all we are and know go into that great ocean of the universe—a community of souls. How intimate is it that our consciousness all intertwine and we genuinely experience communion. That’s not to say there isn’t some degree of punishment. After all, that community could know all that you’ve ever done or thought—know your sins. There would be some separation or rejection from those whom you’ve harmed over time, but then there would be infinite wisdom and forgiveness. Imagine that. Both Heaven and Hell as one, and within that—ultimate forgiveness.

The Last Gunfight at the Rice Hotel [Repost]

Editor's note: This article appeared in the Houston Heights Tribune twenty years ago. It was one of the last few articles I wrote for that paper––one that gave me wonderful opportunities to write interesting pieces and explore and develop my skills. Thank you, Sharon and Amy!

I once chanced to hear a tale about a great, great uncle who was killed in a gunfight. I don't remember how or why it came up, but it did. And the story came to me through my aunt, which she heard from her cousin Bernie. So, she had no details other than the duel took place in front of the Rice Hotel sometime in the early 1900s. There were no specific dates or any other forms of substantiation –– but that didn't matter.

The minute the words left her lips, the images and sounds began forming in my mind. The first thing I heard was the "ching" of spurs striking the cobblestone on Texas Avenue to announce each man's footsteps. Coming into imaginary focus was the mental movie of two men squaring-off, the theme from "The Good, The Bad, And the Ugly" steadily playing in my mind. The hands of a nearby clock approach high noon while the men's palms quiver above their holstered pistols. When the music climaxes on the hour-strike of a clock chime, one of the two men flinch. At that moment a deadly race is on to see who draws faster. Only a 100th of a second separates victor and victim.

In the wink of an eye, both barrels clear leather and let loose clouds of smoke and booms of thunder. When the smoke lifts and the echoes fade, one man falls to the street as scarlet billows over the stones and into the spaces between.

My imagination stampeded with this one, which was exactly what my aunt feared. Not that I wished a violent demise on anyone, but if the story were true, wow! What was it that lured this uncle to his fate? All the usual cliches came to mind––gambling, a woman, or simply stupid bravado.

The next morning I was on fire. I needed to know the who, what, when, where, and how. For years, my older brother and I (mostly my brother) had researched family history. But that was primarily on my father's side and, certainly, nothing as exciting as a gunfight had ever surfaced. So my pursuit of this truth began with scant information and the name of a relative with whom I've never spoken.

I found Cousin Bernie listed in the phone book—yes phone book. I dialed the number and waited with anticipation. After a few rings cousin Bernie answered. I introduced myself and explained that I was kin and how we were related.

The Rice Hotel in 1910.

A minute or two into the call I mentioned the story and asked if he knew much more about it. He perked up and explained that his Aunt Maude had only briefly mentioned it to him. What's more, it seemed to Cousin Bernie that it was something she was reluctant to talk about in detail. But, according to Maude, her brother died in the last gunfight at the Rice Hotel around 1905 or 1906. He went on to say that his uncle's name was Jack and that he was buried at the Holy Cross Catholic Cemetery in Dickinson. That seemed to fit because my grandfather was Catholic.

Cousin Bernie and I chatted a bit longer, then he asked me to let him know if I found more. I said I would. My next call was to the cemetery where a nice woman named Lucille answered the phone. Since I had a name and about when he died, Lucille said she should be able to confirm if Uncle Jack was there. She took my phone number and said she would call when she had something.

An hour or so later, Lucille called. She located Uncle Jack within a family plot near the entrance of the cemetery. Along with a map pinpointing the gravesite, she faxed a copy of a ledger showing the precise date of death for Uncle Jack was 2/19/1906.

Here were the first critical pieces of evidence. I had a name, a grave, and an exact date of death. But all they told me was when Uncle Jack died, not how. The Holy Cross file had no death certificate. But Lucille did say Earthman's had prepared other family members for interment. Perhaps they might have done so for Uncle Jack and, if so, they might have a death certificate citing a cause of death.

On the other end of the phone at Earthman Funeral Directors was Peggy. She said it was possible such an old file still existed and that it might contain a copy of the death certificate. However, I’d have to submit a written request for such information. So, I did. I sent a similar request to the state bureau of Vital Statistics as back-up. In either case, it could be weeks before I get results.

With the phone-work done, the next logical step was the library. Surely a gunfight would make the local papers. At the turn of the 20th century, Houston was an exploding metropolis where two newspapers battled for circulation. Somewhere in their pages had to be the story of Uncle Jack and the gunfight at the Rice Hotel.

The first microfiche reel contained the editions I needed for the then Houston Chronicle and Herald. I immediately scanned to February 19th to find an obituary. There it was on page 5—Uncle Jack, or JD as the paper referred to him, was aged 22. He died in the early morning hours at his family residence on Main Street. Services were held that afternoon at 3:00 at Sacred Heart church. It also mentioned interment to be made at the Holy Cross Cemetery. Parents, as well as several brothers and sisters, survived him—one was Aunt Maude.

Now I was really curious. What could have cut short the life of such a young man? With no answer as to cause, I figured if Uncle Jack had been shot, it must have taken place pretty close to February 19th. So, I reviewed all the previous week’s issues.

An editorial on February 17th caught my attention. It called for increasing the punishment for unlawfully carrying weapons, especially pistols. What prompted the argument? Was it a rash of events or a single, isolated incident of gunplay in front of a fine Houston hotel? A detailed search revealed the reporting of only one shooting during the week before February 19. Uncle Jack was not involved. The Chronicle was now a dead end.

The Houston Daily Post was the morning edition, so Uncle Jack's obituary appeared on February 20th. It was nearly identical to the Chronicle's text. It, too, lacked any clue as to cause of death. Still, I decided to scan the previous week's editions.

The Post had a story about the same shooting as The Chronicle—no other shootings were reported. But The Post did have something new—a Mortuary Report. Each Sunday the paper listed how many died during the previous week. The list was by name and, and it featured causes of death. I'd found the report in the Sunday edition the week before Uncle Jack's death. So, I quickly rolled forward to February 25th.

Twice I looked through the issue before I found it. The small report was buried deep in the inside column just right of the gutter and near the bottom of the page. But the report was there and so was Uncle Jack. His name, his age, where he lay, and, now, how he died were no longer questions to which I sought answers.

By diving into family lore I’d tasted a bit of history while learning a bit about my heritage. More importantly, I was fortunate to have visited with a family member I'd never met before. I am now convinced of one other thing, the next conversation with my aunt should be very, very interesting.

God's Gift of Humor

 By Ellen Connelly

A few summers ago St. Peter's had a summer film festival where several of us were asked to come on a Wednesday evening and show our favorite film. It seemed to me to be a very simple, straightforward assignment with no strings attached.  A few days before I was scheduled to make my appearance I overheard Fr. Stockton telling someone about it, and was just short of horrified to learn that the presenter would be leading a discussion with the audience about the religious significance of the film they’d chosen. If you’ve seen Waking Ned Devine you undoubtedly appreciate my concern. (If you haven’t seen it, go rent it) This film includes gambling, nudity, profanity, lying, and sex. (It also includes some spectacular scenery.) It’s one of the funniest movies I’ve ever watched, but probably not what I’d have picked had I realized what was expected.

I tend to enjoy movies and books for the story and have never been good at or enjoyed searching for hidden meanings, nor do I need to find significance in everything ... I’m not likely to be the person who will see the Virgin Mary in a pancake. So this was a real challenge. It was only after viewing the DVD several times, and enjoying it every time, that I felt I’d discovered the message: GOD WANTS US TO LAUGH.

That’s not a conclusion you would come to by reading the Bible. It only mentions laughter forty-two times. (I didn’t count. That’s from Wikipedia). Most of the time laughter is mentioned in Holy Writ it is derisive, as in Psalm 37, “ The Lord laughs at the wicked”, or cynical, as in Genesis when Abraham and Sarah both laugh at the notion they could become parents in their nineties. We even read in Ecclesiastes 7:3 that, “Sorrow is better than laughter, for by sadness of face the heart is made glad.” 

The Bible does talk a lot about joy, but not about any hearty belly laughs. (Unless you count Abraham falling flat on his face when he got the message of his impending fatherhood.)

But does that mean that God has no sense of humor? Surely He must have. Why else would He have given the dog a tail? In Psalm 104, a magnificent paean of praise for all He created, we read that he made whales just to play in the sea. The God who turned water into wine at a wedding obviously wanted people to enjoy themselves. Life includes both sorrow and joy, and just as tears may be our answer to sorrow, laughter is our response to joy. Joy and laughter are good for us. In Proverbs, we read, “A cheerful heart is a good medicine, but a downcast spirit dries up the bones.” 

As I continued to search for something that would explain the religious significance of Waking Ned Devine, I came across this prayer by Edward Hays. It says it all.

“ Father and God of Fools, Lord of clowns and smiling saints, I rejoice in this playful prayer that you are a God of laughter and of tears. Blessed are you, for you have rooted within me the gifts of humor, lightheartedness and mirth. With jokes and comedy you cause my heart to sing as laughter is made to flow out of me. I am grateful that your son, Jesus, who was this world’s master wit, daily invites me to be a fool for your sake, to embrace the madness of your prophets, holy people and saints. I delight in that holy madness which becomes the very medicine to heal the chaos of the cosmos since it calls each of us out of the hum-drumness of life into joy, adventure, and, most of all, freedom. I, who am so tempted to barter my freedom for tiny speckles of honor and power, am filled with gratitude that your son’s very life has reminded me to value only love, the communion with other persons and with you, and to balance honor with humor. With circus bands and organ grinders, with fools, clowns, court jesters and comics, with high-spirited angels and saints, I too join the fun and foolishness of life, so that your holy laughter may ring out to the edges of the universe. 

Blessed are you, Lord my God, who invites me to be a holy fool.”

Amen

_________________________

Ellen Connelly is a most faithful Christian and wonderful aunt. She lived many years in Kerrville, Texas but has since moved to a smaller community outside of San Antonio. Each summer we visit and part of the annual ritual is movie night. Aunt Ellen has a knack for picking gems that even young great-nephews will enjoy. It is with her permission that I post this blog entry. (Originally posted 8.27.2012