Heaven and Hell (27 page)

“I can see any point in my life by just turning the pages of my book,” explained Jennifer. “That way I can relive all of the happy moments from my youth, laugh at my antics all over again.”

Again the scene changed. Chris witnessed his parents getting married. He saw his grandfather giving away the bride in a little country church. His father and mother looked so young. He had seen photographs of that happy day, but this was a special treat. It was almost like being there. It made him smile to witness his own parent’s wedding; an event that occurred two years before he was born.

“I look forward to the day when I will see my parents again,” said Jennifer. “I’ve missed them so much these past years.”

Again Jennifer flipped the pages. Chris witnessed his own childhood through his mother’s eyes, felt a mother’s love and pride in her only son. He smiled.

The page turned. Chris became a witness of his own mother’s day of judgment. Jesus stood at her side; spoke on her behalf before the Father. Now more than ever before, Chris realized the full magnitude of the love and sacrifice of their Savior. Surely He must have acted as the advocate of everyone who had placed their faith in Him over the ages.

Chris watched as his mother stepped into the mansion for the first time. She was welcomed home by her paternal grandparents, her uncle, and others; who had preceded her on the road of life. They did their best to make her feel at ease in her new surroundings. Apparently, the books even covered that part of life that existed beyond judgment.

The vision faded as Jennifer closed the book and returned it to the shelf from which she had retrieved it. “That’s all there is to it,” she explained, “very easy to use. You just open the book and turn the pages like any ordinary book. When you are finished, you close it and the vision ends. You can even use it to look in on your friends and family back on Earth. The records are always up-to-date. Just turn to the last page and you see all that they have done today.”

“Did you ever use it to look in on Dad and me?” asked Chris, hoping that the question wasn’t too personal.

“Many times,” admitted Jennifer, turning toward her son, “but not for years. The last time I looked through your book, was to watch you graduate from high school.”

“Why did you stop?”

Jennifer paused, considering how best to explain it. “Well, it was nice looking in on you from time to time, and I know a few people here who do this a lot, but I couldn’t. There were times when I would see something in your life that was absolutely heartbreaking. Do you remember when you broke your leg playing football?”

Yes,” replied Chris. “That was during my senior year, about two years after you…well, came here. I remember that I became quite ill a day or so later and had to be readmitted to the hospital.”

“One night, when you were really sick, you were calling for me in your sleep, remember?”

“Yes,” Chris said, “I remember.”

“You can’t imagine what it was like not to be with you at that time, to know that there was nothing I could do to ease your pain. I felt so helpless. It wasn’t long after that when I stopped looking in. Can you understand that? It wasn’t that I didn’t care; it was that I cared too much. After that, I simply asked God to look after you.” Tears welled up in Jennifer’s eyes.

Chris hugged her. “It’s OK, Mom, I understand.”

“And there is another danger. Sometimes you can discover things about your life that later you wish you didn’t know.”

“I’d still like to know,” Chris said.

Are you so sure?” asked Jennifer. “You find out about forgotten friends you will never see again because they are in Hell, or at least headed in that direction, and there is nothing you can do about it. You feel helpless.” Jennifer hesitated. “It was a mistake to bring you here. What was I thinking of?”

“No, its fine,” said Chris, “I think its all pretty cool, really.”

Again Jennifer paused. “Chris, tell me about your Uncle Bill. What do you remember about him?”

Chris looked at his mother incredulously. “Nothing. I don’t have an Uncle Bill.”

“Yes you do, or at least you did. He was my older brother. He used to take you out fishing when you were a kid, remember? You always had such a great time with him. Sometimes you came back with such outlandish fish stories.”

Again Chris shook his head. He stepped back. “Mom, you’re kidding, right? You don’t have an older brother.”

“I assure you, dear, I do. He died the year before I did. You went to his funeral. You cried a lot, remember?”

Again Chris shook his head.

“It’s OK, I didn’t remember him either, not until I opened your book. Only then did I learn of his existence. I looked through my own book to discover still more. I learned plenty, yet it still didn’t stir any memories. I guess I should say that I now know about him, not remember him. He was good to you, and me, but he was a real partier and a womanizer. I searched out his book in the library. It had a black cover. I didn’t open it. I couldn’t bear to. Now, I have to live with the knowledge that my brother is in Hell. When I opened my book for you a moment ago, I carefully selected the parts of my life I showed you, made sure that they were things that wouldn’t hurt you. I don’t want you to look into your own book, not yet. You’re not ready.”

Chris could see how hurt, and, yes, afraid, his mother was. Still, he really wanted to explore his book. “OK, Mom, I’ll hold off, I promise.” He hugged her again and tried to comfort her.

It was several minutes before they were finally ready to depart. They retraced their steps down the long corridor of books.

“I’m sorry, Chris,” said Jennifer, managing a slight smile. “I didn’t want to make a scene in front of you.”

“No, that’s all right, really. I understand.”

Mao Yeng was gone by the time they reached the place where she had stood in such deep contemplation. Chris would have liked very much to have had a few sympathetic words with her. Perhaps it was best that he didn’t. He considered the black book she held in her hands. Had she been mourning the fate of a loved one? He didn’t have the answer for that one, but it was a most disturbing thought. To spend eternity here, only to know that someone you cared deeply for was suffering in the pit of Hell was an unimaginable concept. His own mother carried such a burden.

For a moment, he considered the souls in Hell, souls without hope. What was it like? He paused, glanced at a nearby black book. It would be easy enough to find out, wouldn’t it? No, it was too horrible, too lurid. He felt ashamed to have even pondered such a thing. He moved on.

Chris walked past the stairway and to the end of the corridor. The clear crystal windows offered a panoramic vista of the city. He figured that he was well over 100 feet above the street. His attention was drawn toward an open plaza about half a mile away. It was a vast expanse of shimmering gold, circular in shape, stretching on for untold miles, and filled with people, perhaps tens of millions. At what appeared to be its center, several miles away, was a great glow, a luminance that Chris had come to associate with the presence of God. Even from this distance, he could hear the sound of song and praise rising from the place.

“The most holy place in Zion,” said Jennifer standing by her son’s side and placing her arm around him. “That’s where we’re going. It is the place where the people come to worship God in person, to sing His praises. I often go there. You can feel such unity, such belonging. Many times I’ve gotten lost in His spirit and His love there, losing all track of time. I wanted you to see it, to experience it.” Jennifer’s excitement and anticipation was very obvious.

“OK, let’s go,” Chris said.

A few minutes later Chris and Jennifer were stepping back out into the busy street. Absentmindedly, Chris glanced up at the sun.

There was a region of brightness high in the sky, but it didn’t look exactly like the sun. According to Jennifer, it was always daylight in Zion, a city that basked in the light of the eternal love of the Father.

They walked toward the great gathering. As they did, the sound of singing grew louder and the street more crowded.

Chris looked ahead into the swelling crowds, “It sounds like people sing to God as much as they talk to Him.”

“Yes, dear, in part,” confirmed Jennifer. “You see, when lucifer fell, he took a third of the angels with him. Most of that third were angels under his command. He was a sort of praise leader, Heaven’s choir director, and the angels under his direction were the members of his choir. Their very purpose was to sing to God. With them gone, there was little or no song in Heaven—until humans came.”

“Oh come on, Mom, how do you figure that?”

“Well, I’ve been here for a few years longer than you have, but think about it. How many times does the Bible speak of angels singing?”

Chris paused. Right now he wished he knew his Bible as well as his mother did. “I’m not sure. Didn’t the angels sing glory to God in the highest and on Earth, peace, good will when Jesus was born?”

“No, they proclaimed it,” said Jennifer, her tone definitive. “It’s humanity who sings the praises of God. But it is more than praise and song that awaits us. It is worship, communion with God. Like I told you, it is not a monologue, but a dialog when you are speaking with God and He is speaking to you.”

Chris gave his mother a look of astonishment. “But there must be millions of people, all worshiping God at the same time. Are you saying that He is holding a conversation with each and every one of them?”

“Exactly,” Jennifer said. “He talks personally to every one of them. God heard all of our prayers on Earth, so what makes you think that He can’t talk to all of us individually here?”

Chris didn’t reply. He’d never been the prayer warrior his mother was. Actually, he had not taken as much time to speak to God as he probably should have. He’d sometimes wondered if God had heard him at all. What did that say about his faith?

“I like to get as close as I can to the throne of God,” said Jennifer, “but it takes time and patience. There are just so many people gathered for miles around to be close to God. You have to slowly work your way through the crowd, moving forward when possible.”

Jennifer had piqued her son’s curiosity. “How close to God have you gotten?”

“You mean, other than at my judgment? Well, not all that close, maybe a hundred yards or so. There are people who spend years in this place, just to be in the presence of God. It took me days to get that close. To get really close might take years.

“There’s a lot to see if you can get that close—like the twenty-four elders who are constantly gathered around the Creator, and the four living beings, not human, that surround Him. I actually saw them when I got close that one time. I really don’t know how to describe them…they’re like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I’ll just put it that way. But at our Creator’s right hand is Jesus, right where the Bible said He would be. It’s all so wonderful. But understand, you don’t have to get that close to speak to Him, to be with Him. You’ll see.”

It was a few minutes before Chris and Jennifer stepped into the great plaza and worked their way through the crowd. Some of the people were singing, others talking among themselves, others were praising the Lord, their arms outstretched. Here and there, people had gathered with musical instruments, leading songs of all sorts to God. Some played to a country or rock beat, while others led those around them in familiar old hymns. The sheer variety of the music was as vast as the crowd.

Most of the crowd, though, was sitting on the translucent golden surface of the plaza, speaking quietly, perhaps in prayer. They would speak for a time, and then grow silent and attentive. Occasionally some jumped and shouted, praising their Creator. There were even a few who were dancing before the Lord as King David had done.

Chris could see the warm glow in the distance, the place where the Lord of Hosts sat in the midst of His people, but he figured that he was still well over a mile away. Never had he seen a gathering such as this. Jennifer found a place where the two of them could sit and motioned to Chris.

“This will be fine,” she said, as her son sat down at her side. “Now just relax.” Jennifer paused for a moment before speaking again, but when she did, it was not to her son. “Father, I’m so glad to be here with you again. Oh, I thank you for your mercy in bringing my son to me. I missed him so much. I brought him with me today.”

“Welcome, Chris,” said a powerful yet kind voice that emanated from everywhere. “I am pleased that you have come into My presence this day.”

Despite the fact that his mother had told him about this aspect of his communion with God, Chris was not quite prepared for the reality. “Thank you, Lord, I’m very happy to be here.” Chris felt very awkward about his response, and a little bit fearful. He also felt foolish for doubting that this level of communication with God was possible. Just how should he conduct himself in a conversation with the Creator of the entire universe?

“Chris, you need not be afraid,” the reassuring voice said. “You are my son, and I love you dearly.”

“I love you too,” replied Chris, who felt more at ease now.

“I know you do,” replied God, “and it makes me very happy.” There was a pause before God continued. “Your mother has awaited your coming for a long time. Many times we have spoken of you. We both rejoice now that you are home.”