Amen - part three: superstition


Those who don't accuse me of blasphemy or stupidity over what I've said about heaven and hell might still, if only out of superstition, call me reckless: if the afterlife existed, and hell weren't the revelry inn you're so keen on, don't you think they could make you burn there for exactly what you wrote?

The answer is simple, even if it's not intuitive. I've actually read the New Testament, the letters of Paul of Tarsus to the early Christian communities in particular. When Big Paul the persecutor converted and got appointed head of the apostolic delegation for the Gentile territory, he changed sides, but not his stickler habit: the requirements he set for getting into heaven are as bizarre as they are strict. I take great care not to meet them, so if that parallel reality really existed, I'd end up roasting straight away at "Churrascaria chez Satan."

That would be the fate of someone with my lifestyle, my values, and my convictions. It would still be, even if from here to my last day I took to writing hypocritical ass-kisses to the whole ecclesiastical establishment.
Precisely for that reason, since hell would be waiting for me anyway, it would pay to make friends with the owners of the joint. Maybe they'd reserve me a less scorching corner, where I'd keep singing the praises of the host.

Who knows? I might even become the official court propagandist. Not bad for someone who, to avoid the heavenly drag, is ready to risk ending up skewered on a rotisserie spit for all eternity. Right?


You can read the whole "Amen" saga by following this link.

Drafted from Italian with Blog Translator, then revised by me.

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