Afterlife

A Woody Allen line: "It's not that I'm afraid to die. I just don't want to be there when it happens." He also supposedly said: 'We know there is an afterlife. The question is what times is it open and is it close to Midtown?'

Now, are comedians our best authorities for the afterlife? Probably not even though they can make light of it which eases consciences which of course is delusional. There are better places to find out about life after death, near-death experiences, and even death itself. Even scientists are exploring it more than ever. That said, many still avoid the subject and hope for the best.

Of course we can only know about life after death that is revealed, not experienced or scientifically researched. The Bible is the best place I know for learning about an afterlife.

Let me simply talk now about some logical reasons to consider an afterlife.
First, a viable late term abortion. That these lives will never live to be able to experience an afterlife seems so illogical. Then, there are those whose lives have been diminished or abbreviated by ruthless, cunning, savage avengers. No afterlife for them? Or war casualties? Or corrupt scammers?

If a ponzi operator can defraud millions from innocents (and some perhaps less than innocent), and escape making amends, no afterlife makes no sense because there is no justice for those who seeming get by in this life. For misguided people of the cloth who deny life after death is also less than reassuring.

To make the afterlife an experience only for religious believers (of whatever faith) underestimates the meaning of an afterlife which must include all souls to ultimately become accountable, not to man but to God.

We sing, perhaps at times glibly, "Tell mother I'll be there, in answer to her prayer" which is more than poetic. Ironically, mother may be there but in quite a different setting than a wayward son on his unrepentant deathbed would discover. The ancient biblical story of Lazarus the beggar who entered the afterlife only to discover an uncrossable chasm between himself and the rich man who had ignored his plight for so long. Being on the other side makes it quite clear that not all who enter will end in the same place.

It was not possible for Lazarus as requested to go back to warn the loved ones of those who ended on the other side. And no, it probably isn't any where near Motown, either. This could be a sobering senior moment for those who haven't given it much thought in advance.

The Luck of Roaring Camp

Well over one hundred years ago, Bret Harte told this story. Here is a condensed version of The Luck of Roaring Camp.

There was commotion in Roaring Camp summoning all the miners in front of a crude cabin. "You go in there, Stumpy," said Kentuck, "go in there and see what you can do. You've had experience in these things." The door closed on the extempore midwife and Roaring Camp sat down, about 100 assorted fugitives, criminals. All were reckless.

Bets were made: three to five that Sal would make it; even, that the child would make it. In the midst of the hush rose a sharp, querulous cry unlike anything heard before in the camp. The Pines stopped moaning, the river seemingly ceased to rush. Cherokee Sal was sinking fast. Within an hour she had climbed, as it were, that rugged road that led to the stars as she passed out of Roaring Camp, its sins and shames forever.

"Gentlemen," said Stumpy later, please pass in at the front door, 'round the table, and out at the back door. Them who wishes to contribute anything toward this orphan will find a hat handy," There was a silver tobacco box, a navy revolver, a beautifully embroidered lady's handkerchief, a Bible and about $200 in loose gold and silver.

This little child, affectionately named Tommy Luck, transformed the mining camp. Cherokee Sal was given a decent burial. A resolution was passed to adopt the child to keep him at Roaring Camp rather than entrust him to Red Dog. "Them fellows at Red Dog would swap it." The introduction of a female nurse was met with objection because no decent woman could be persuaded to make Roaring Camp her home until the speaker said, "We don't want anymore of that other kind."

Strange to say, the child survived. The men had to bathe and put on a clean shirt when visiting. One miner suggested a satirical christening but Stumpy put the brakes on and Tommy Luck was christened, probably the first time the Deity had been uttered other than profanely.

The cabin assigned to Tommy was improved and kept scrupulously clean. Tommy thrived as the camp was dramatically transformed. With its increasing prosperity, the Roaring Camp made plans for a hotel and to invite one or two decent families to reside there for the sake of Tommy Luck. Good job, Bret and Stumpy.

Dare we doubt the power of an infant? Stumpy didn't. When the Messiah entered the world, he could have come charging out of the sky with 10,000 angels with a lot of fanfare. But he didn't. He came as a babe in a manger because was no room in the inn. What would Christmas really be like today without the Christchild tugging on our hearts?

For unto us is born this day in the city of David a Savior who is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you. You shall find the babe, wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.