Bell / Griffiths Hope for Everyone

A Fresh Vision of the Afterlife
1. Auflage 2024
ISBN: 978-1-80381-973-0
Verlag: Grosvenor House Publishing
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 295 Seiten

Have you ever imagined what the afterlife might be like? It is something that people throughout history have often pondered. Where, why and how might we live again? Who would we be with? What would we do? What about God, Heaven and Hell? The prospect of the afterlife raises so many questions. Hope for Everyone is a story that seeks to address these questions. It follows the afterlives of four main characters and explores a process of reconciliation that is both plausible and in line with the logic of love that has been given to humanity through the ages. How can a soldier who dies in battle be reconciled with those on the other side? How can a gangster live in harmony with the woman he has killed? How can a former slave girl walk side by side with her abuser? How can a proud religious housewife learn to let go of her prejudices? By imagining a possible future that leads to abundant life for all, this book aims to bring hope to everyone. Some readers have compared it to the Shack. Though this world can seem bleak, this tale offers a challenging and thrilling possibility that eventually everyone will love everyone.

David Bell spent much of his childhood helping on the family farm. After graduating he earned his living in various IT positions and has now been retired for over fifteen years. He has devoted much of his retirement to an investigation of how the afterlife has been envisioned and theodicy (the problem of evil). He was raised in a Christian family and has attended churches of many denominations. He no longer attends a church but enjoys the company of others in local clubs and societies. David's second wife died of pancreatic cancer. He has three children, two step-children and, so far, five grandchildren.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Bell, David

Griffiths, Dave

Leseproben

Resurrections

Johan sensed light around him, like waking from a deep sleep to morning sunshine. Opening his eyes, he remained motionless. Slowly he began to feel his body. He touched his legs with his palms and turned his head from side to side. Was it a dream or had he really been travelling toward a light in a vast black space? The last thing he remembered with any certainty was blowing out a lantern in the dank dugout he shared with Wilhelm and two new recruits.

Looking around he saw that he was in a living room very similar to the one he had known in his childhood. It was light and airy with large windows overlooking a landscape of rolling hills. The sofa on which he was lying was so comfortable that he felt as though he was floating. Somehow, this place felt just like home, although he was sure he had never been there before.

To his right were folded clothes. Dry, soft clothes were a distant memory. He felt like a child getting into cosy pyjamas as he put them on.

Johan wondered if he had been injured. Was he in some sort of hospital? As he tried hard to remember anything about what had happened since snuffing out the lantern, he heard footsteps, and a door to his left opened. A face peered around the door.

“Johan,” said the face, olive-skinned with thick dark wavy hair and a short beard. It was like an old friend greeting him with affection.

Johan smiled back, but with some puzzlement. The friendly face continued with a warm smile, “I know, it’s confusing. Come with me, and all will become clear. All is well.”

Johan followed the man through a short entrance hall into a kitchen.

This side of the house glowed with a welcoming hue that reminded Johan of firelight. Sitting at a wooden table was a figure that shimmered like a rainbow. Johan could clearly make out the being’s shape and form but other features were hard to define.

The dark-haired man pulled out a chair from under the table and signalled Johan to take a seat.

“This is Ruach,” he said.

The being’s eyes seemed to take in the totality of Johan, both inside and out. Far from feeling self-conscious, Johan felt seen, welcomed and understood. The man placed a steaming mug on the table in front of him.

“Black coffee, no sugar.”

Johan looked at the mug and then back at the man.

“That’s how I like it,” he said, bewildered.

“You’re probably wondering where you are?”

Johan took a sip of the coffee. It was hot but didn’t burn his mouth. He looked at the man and nodded, still trying to remember what had happened.

“My name is Jesus.”

Johan nearly spat out the coffee he was savouring. Jesus and Ruach chuckled, and Johan laughed nervously with them as he composed himself.

“This is our home, and you are our guest,” Jesus continued.

“Wh… why am I here?” stuttered Johan.

“Your time in the Previous Age has ended. In other words, you died.”

“Dead?” Johan’s eyes opened wide.

“It was very quick. You had no time to realise,” Ruach reassured him.

“How?” asked Johan, trying to grasp what was happening.

“A shell hit your dugout. It killed you and three others,” replied Ruach.

“What? I had no idea. So, wait, is this … is this it? Am I in Heaven?”

“Don’t worry, all will become clear,” said Jesus.

“This is our time to look at your existence so far – your experiences during the Previous Age, what you have learned and where we go from here,” continued Ruach.

Johan took a deeper breath. “I see,” he said. “So, if I died with the other three, why aren’t they here too? Where’s Wilhelm?”

“Everyone gets their own time with us,” Jesus replied. “Every person has their own unique journey.”

“So this is like an appraisal of my life? Wait! Isn’t that what’s called Judgement Day?”

“We think that sounds a little severe,” said Jesus.

“I heard that God’s judgement was supposed to be severe.”

“Sometimes it can appear so,” replied Ruach. “However, this is more like a discussion. Everything we do is because we love each person with unfailing agape love.”

Johan thought for a moment. Questioning Jesus and Ruach seemed at once both strange and absolutely necessary. Desiring to know as much as possible, he continued.

“What does unfailing agape love mean?”

Jesus smiled and looked Johan in the eye. It was unnerving, yet somehow thrilling.

“It means the highest, purest type of love. Our love for people will not fail to seek the best for them. It comes in many forms to restore and reconcile creation.”

This sounded rather idealistic to Johan, who had seen too much violence in his short existence to comprehend quite what Jesus meant.

“Ok, so if you love everyone, does everyone just go to Heaven?”

Jesus pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. “What do you mean by Heaven?”

“A place where good people go to be with God after they die,” replied Johan.

“Well, that would not be our definition,” said Jesus with a smile.

“What about Hell?” asked Johan nervously.

“Well, we don’t have any lakes of fire, if that is what you are worried about.”

That was actually what Johan was worried about, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Which brings us to you, Johan,” said Ruach.

“Me?” whispered Johan. He bowed his head, suddenly feeling emotional. “I know what I am. I am a soldier – a man of war.”

“That is not what defines you,” said Jesus firmly. “You could not help where and when you were born. What matters is your heart.”

Ruach nodded, “The circumstances you found yourself in were ugly, but your heart is beautiful. I saw you giving the last of your water to captive soldiers. I saw you hold your dying captain until he was gone, even though he belittled you every day.”

Johan began to well up.

“But, but didn’t you see all the times I failed? I couldn’t save my captain, and I know our army did horrific things. I did things I am ashamed of.”

“I saw,” said Ruach tenderly. “But I know your heart hated that which was evil.”

“But I swore an oath to the Fuhrer.”

“You will get a chance to make new commitments.” Jesus said, reaching across the table and placing a hand on Johan’s wrist. Johan looked up, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“How can I live a better life? What must I learn to do?” he asked.

Ruach leaned in towards him, her presence somehow calming.

“We have a place for you. You will get to explore our agape love without the constraints of the Previous Age. How would you like to help care for some of our children?”

“Children? There are children here?”

“Yes, children who die in the Previous Age still get to grow up. They are placed with relatives who have been raised into this age.”

“My sister!” gasped Johan.

Jesus and Ruach beamed as Johan realised that he was about to be reunited with his little sister, Gertrude, who had died when she was seven years old.

*

Yuri opened his eyes and immediately jumped up. It wasn’t unusual for Yuri to find himself in an alien environment. He must have blacked out, or been drugged and kidnapped. As soon as he had cast his eyes over the room, there was a knock at the door to his left. Yuri spun around, fists balled.

“Christ!” he yelled with surprise, alarmed that he might be joined by a stranger.

“That’s right,” chuckled Jesus.

“Huh?” replied Yuri, confused and coiled like a spring.

“Why don’t you put your clothes on?” offered Jesus from behind the door.

Yuri didn’t say anything, but his fists relaxed a little. To Yuri’s right was a rail with some familiar-looking clothes hanging on it. He grabbed the first things that came to hand and pulled them on roughly.

Striding over to the door, he jerked it open and saw a man leaning up against the wall just outside.

“Do you like your clothes?” Jesus asked.

Yuri stayed silent, feeling awkward. His eyes looked the man up and down and he wondered what this stranger wanted.

“Come through?” beckoned Jesus with an open arm, pointing across a hall to the kitchen.

“Where’s the boss?” said Yuri curtly. “I want to see your boss.”

“I don’t have a boss,” Jesus answered gently. “You can meet my friend though. She’ll be along shortly.”

“What do you want with me?” Yuri felt increasingly aware of how little he knew. If there was one thing he hated, it was not being in control.

“Come on through,” repeated Jesus.

“You first,” demanded Yuri.

Jesus nodded and held the door open.

Tentatively, Yuri stepped into the kitchen. His eyes furtively searched the room for anything he could use as a weapon, but there were no knives – not even a rolling pin.

Jesus gestured toward a seat that was pulled out from the wooden kitchen table. It was the kind of table Yuri had spent hours at, hunched over a deck of cards, chain-smoking Marlboro Reds and knocking back vodka.

“I’ll stand,” insisted Yuri. “Where is this friend of yours?”

“She’ll be along in a minute,” said Jesus, hardly able to contain an excited smile.

Jesus turned around and poured out a short drink. He slid the glass along the worktop towards Yuri.

“Here.”

Yuri looked at the glass and, not wanting to give away any sign of weakness, slung the shot back and slammed the...