# A Better Place



## Winston (Aug 4, 2014)

I hate genteel, euphemistic speech.  I have nothing against decorum and tact, but I loath weasely attempts at self-indulgent "kindness" that serve to only weaken our language.
   	 Take death, for example.  "Passed On" sounds like the dead person caught a train to the next town.  "Expired" is what happens to food past it's time (more accurate, but a distasteful and crass metaphor).   So,  some socially inept acquaintance tries to comfort you, the living, with, "Well, he's in a better place now..."  What?
	If all your eggs are in the Judeo-Christian basket, such a though is plausible. It's a bit presumptuous, however, for anyone in this realm to speak with authority on the disposition of your eternal soul.  Let's just assume your well meaning friend is correct.  For most in the Western world, that "better place" is usually referred to as Heaven.  

Based on the general conventions and descriptions, I'm not sure Heaven is a better place.  First off, it's an exclusive club that allows some in, and not others.  The process is as simple as it is Byzantine.  An omnipotent deity (God)  gives you free-will to choose or not choose the path to heaven.  If He is our Father, that is as non-senseical as a parent giving a five year old a set of knives.  If the child lives to adulthood, he'll be a great butcher, right?  This whole free will / determinism conflict is bunk.  I mean, the thought of an all-powerful God that lets billions spend an eternity in Hell, Purgatory or some other steerage class accommodations is absurd.   As a parent, I just don't get it.  
	Secondly, if you get your hall pass, is Heaven really worth it?  I mean, the living forever thing is an easy sell.  No sickness, war, yada yada yada...  But there is a catch (there always is).  In Heaven, you're not the same.  God hates sin, so you can never sin again.  Now I don't go around dropping F bombs and drinking whiskey by the gallon, but The Big Guy has ZERO tolerance.  I'm no hedonist, but I kinda like who I am.  I don't like the idea of living forever as someone else.  Now, I love the concept of eternal peace, but the price of admission is a bit high.   
	So, do you want to spend eternity in a place that admits some, and not others?  That makes you change who you are on Earth, then changes you again after you get there?  Then there's The Boss.  If God is Love, it's a VERY strange love.  I've never tossed anything that I loved into an eternal pit of fire and brimstone because it wasn't perfect.  As a matter of fact, I've loved some things more intensely because of their faults.  It seems to me that the most powerful being in the Universe, and I, are at odds on who our friends are.  I don't want to be surrounded by "yes men".  I'd rather be in the company of those that are good because they chose to be.  Not because they had to be.  If we were made in His image, I'm not seeing the resemblance.

Milton quoted Lucifer, "It is better to rule in Hell, than serve in Heaven".  Irony is, God made Lucifer as well.  So the veracity of that statement passes initial scrutiny in my book.

The reason for this convoluted introspection was the recent death of my father.  He was a Christian, but had a bad experience with a cult called Jehovah's Witnesses.  Since his "disfellowship"  by them, my father stopped practicing.  He wasn't anti-religion, and bore no ill-will toward anyone of faith.  Or anyone, period.  He was a good natured man.  He just no longer saw the point.  The omnipotent God either left his life, or let him leave.  Based on the most popular dogma(s), since my father died without a "love of God", he will spend an eternity separated from Him.
	Now, it seems to me that I am forced to make a choice.  Since God sent my father away, I can spend eternity with either my father or God.  There doesn't seem to be much middle ground.  Either / Or.
	Based on what I know of the two, I'd rather hang with my dear old dad.  He had his faults, but he always welcomed and supported the ones he loved.  Dad was not only slow to anger, but forgave quickly.  Dad's love was unconditional, and, quite frankly, you always knew where you stood with him.  Not so much with the Heavenly Father.

Don't misconstrue what I've written as some form of anti-religious dogma.  I, personally, just can't get past that fatal logical fallacy.  "Faith" dictates that we suspend certain beliefs in order that we conform.  I cannot.  I don't judge.  That job's been taken.
	God made my father who he was.  I loved my father.  I will not accept that I will never see him again if I am a faithful believer, and he was not.  Milton's quote not withstanding, I don't want to "rule" anything.  I just want to go where the love is.  Where love is, is the Better Place.


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## Pandora (Aug 6, 2014)

Winston, I feel you, losing a parent brings so much out in us. So much to make sense of as we find our way. I feel God did not send your father away, people did. He left that religion, that was right for him, yes?  I found my God, it found me. It is good, I am better for it. Sincere kindness is grand it bonds open hearts. I like the term "left this world", I awoke from a dream saying those words. 'Why do they call it dying when it is leaving this world?' A profound dream, one that changed my life, my path. Faith means God is with me, that's all. I follow no religion but love and the feeling, overwhelming feeling of never being alone again. Some people need that some don't, choices are ours. Live your life true to your heart that is open and yes love is the better place, here and there.


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## gokedik (Aug 21, 2014)

I see, you want proof. I have faith, but it's only in myself. I believe you have to, like I've heard if you don't have it no one else will. To thine own self be true.I think it goes.


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## qwertyportne (Aug 24, 2014)

Yeah, euphemisms are frequently a detour around the truth. Jake, the janitor at my high school, would have objected strongly to being called a sanitation engineer. Jake knew who he was and what he did to keep beans on the table and a roof over his head. Or so it seemed to me. The language he used was always down where the rubber met the road, and I don't mean he cussed and cursed. Jake always told it the way it was.

Your rapid transition from euphemistic speech to a "convoluted introspection" of religion surprised me. I'm not complaining. Just caught me by surprise. But I was able to follow your argument and appreciate its emotional and rational qualities. My reply to the topic of your thread is that the death of a loved one can weaken, strengthen, create or destroy faith in self, god and a host of other things we previously had confidence in. I've seen all four occur. My own "convoluted introspections" always end up in the same place: it's easier to believe there are no gods or many gods, not just one.


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