Life everlasting

By Jeannette Timmerman

As a young child I remember dwelling on the horrors of life everlasting in hell. How could a person be in eternal fire and not burn up? How much pain would there be? I imagined the horrible shrieking, sobbing and abject despair.

But I couldn’t imagine the concept of eternity at all.

Then came the worry. Was I behaving well enough to avoid the fate of everlasting hell?

Somehow, from sermons and readings at church, I focused on the God who was demanding and judgmental. A God who exacted penance. Of course, I also heard about the loving nature of God, but somehow for a number of years the terrible God won out in my mind. Heaven seemed a dream.

The saving grace for me became the confessional. At that time confession was a weekly affair. I remember one occasion, after the drive from the farm to church, standing in a long line for confession. When it was my turn, I burst into tears of dread. But oh the relief when the task of telling was done.

The priest was a kindly man, concerned about his parishioners, young or old. Afterward, when he saw my mother he asked about me. My mother, not knowing of my dread of hell at that period in my childhood, had no idea what had upset me so much.

Looking back, I can’t imagine that my transgressions were of any great significance except in my young, fearful-of-hell mind. In fact, I likely was suffering from scrupulousness, a term I only heard in mid-life as it is applied to Catholicism.

Childhood memories of my views on heaven and hell have recently surfaced more than 60 years later because my husband and I seem to have entered a period of time when friends, colleagues and acquaintances are dying. We’ve been to a number of funerals and memorials over the past months.

Two recent ones stand out in my mind. A friend died suddenly. At the funeral mass the priest talked about heaven and the friend’s place there. At another, the United Church minister mentioned that the deceased was now “home” with God.

My belief in life everlasting with God is strong. When I thought about these two services, my husband’s disbelief gnawed at me, so I questioned him. Naturally he knows about the Catholic Church’s teachings on life after death. I asked him if he, as an agnostic, ever thought about the possibility that death was not an absolute ending.

His answer to my question was very sure. Once he was dead, that was it. No chance of anything after that point. Was he concerned? Not at all.
He lives his life to the fullest each day. He is kind, considerate and loving. He helps out wherever he sees a need. He ponders about some sorrowful situations. He laughs and enjoys others. He says sorry when there is a need.

Out of friendship and to be supportive of those grieving he attends funerals and memorial services regardless of the place these occasions are held.

But everlasting life for him is not a consideration. At times I am saddened by his viewpoint. In the end, I wonder if he’ll be surprised?

I leave it in God’s hands.

Timmerman is a freelance writer from Winnipeg.