Z-Point II

Awaiting their sentencing trial at the terminus of the vale of the Unclimables, all lost souls soon found they were nothing more than “has beens.” Whenever they were thrown into mutual contact, their conversation started out invariably in this way: “I was—“ Hoping to find someone who knew them, someone who cared, they were almost always disappointed, for in that place no one cared for “has beens.” “I was—“ “I was—“ “I was—“ It was endless, pathetic testimonies to what had been and would never be of consequence again. For who could care if this one had been a general to Trajan, or this one had swept the cathedral of Rheims for twenty years, or this other one had been an aide to Prince Zan in the Ming period in China? Who could care if yet another had been a Ford mechanic at a Cleveland Ford dealership for thirty nine years six months and twenty seven days, or this other had been a stockbroker until he threw himself out a window on the thirty-second floor of National Brokerage House of Manhattan in the crash of ’29? Each soul cared only about its past identity and role in life and what could possibly be its destiny; not one cared about the other “has beens.” It could not be different since selfishness ruled them—selfishness driven by tremendous fear for their personal safety.

Hetty Green inherited ten million from her aunt, and living as simply (making her office in an abandoned carriage, and using the foyers of banks where she deposited her millions to conduct business meetings, not to mention using wasteful people's thrown-away newspapers for underwear), and exercizing an inborn sense for making money work night and day for her, she had parleyed her nest egg into 100,000,000 before her death in 1916, making her the world's richest women. That had been a notable achievement for a woman in her time, but now it was worth nothing--nobody seemed to care she had died the world's richest woman, without having spent more than a dollar or two in her lifetime on undergarments!

Once great personages, with no longer the slightest control over their destinies or even the company they kept, mingled with the insignificant, each asking the only question that mattered to them after introducing himself or herself with “I was—“ What did they ask? Usually, when they couldn’t get any satisfactory response to announcing who they were, they asked, “What’s this place? What are they going to do with me? I demand to know!” The great ones always demanded, the small ones begged and pleaded and wheedled—that was the chief difference between the two classes. Yet great or small, they were alike in their disappointment, shock, dismay, and despair—followed by sheer terror. They soon found that no one in authority had any attention in addressing their concerns. Rather, it was the business of the trials which dictated what would happen to the condemned souls. Nothing else mattered to those in charge.

Growing increasingly frightened concerning the possible intent of the proceedings, which seemed to be essentially judicial to even the most distracted and self-obsessed, some souls broke into tears and even screams for help, when all protests and equivocations utterly failed. No one paid these souls any attention. They were moved on by the soldier-angels just as easily as those who moved forward in the lines with stoney eyes and hard expressions. Some desperate souls tried to get the soldier-angels to help, appealing to them to respond out of human pity. But this too was futile. Their wardens refused to do anything for them, for there was nothing that could be done (though, in truth, they pitied them greatly).

It was odd how even philosophers, who had many years of renown in their past lives, begged for clemency rather than face the Judge upon the Great White Throne. Classic Greek or Roman period Cynics, Epicureans, Pythagoreans, Medieval Scholastics and dark-robed, scholarly Thomas Aquinas’ followers, Victorian Age skeptics such as Huxley and modern atheists, atomists such as Bertrand Russell, followed by post-modern clerics and secularists and New Age ministers of unified religions and environmentalism, whatever they called themselves, they threw aside all dignity and pleaded with their captors to take them away from that awful place. Strangely, the worst sort, such as career mobsters and veteran criminals, mass murderers, professional pornographers or immoralists, child molesters, violent people adept in all sorts of perversity, these dregs had no difficulty accepting their guilt and stood ready to be sentenced.

But not only philosophers failed in their courage. Clergymen and religious charlatans of every stripe abounded in the trials—and these shamelessly tried every imaginable way to elude sentencing. “I will repay everything I stole from my church,” pastors cried to whomever they thought might listen. “Please help me, I will give every penny of it back!” How? They had no money with them, money was meaningless where they were now--and always would be! And who wanted it, even if they could have gotten some to repay their victims all they had stolen from them?

Most of the religious and moral, respectable people did so much good for society they had no idea why they were being put with “bad people.” Others were of the right class, wore the right clothes, displayed the right manners, attended the right social functions, had the right number of children, sent them to the right schools, and even attended the right churches (until the right minister delivered the right eulogy over their flower-heaped caskets), and so they too were scandalized by being lumped with all manner if disreputable persons.

Billions had been sentenced as the cases against them were read out, detailing their every crime, every evil thought and deed, from birth to death, while billions more awaited their sentences in turn. All this took time, but their eternal Judge had all the time of the world in one hand and eternity in the other, so there was no need of haste. Every thought, word, deed of each and every human being had been recorded—and the accounts providing the indisputable proof were brought out for each case and the contents reviewed in detail.

One sin, whether in thought or word or deed, was sufficient to condemn a soul to eternal punishment, so it was not necessary to review the whole life of a person, yet it was done anyway, so that no one could charge the Judge with unfair dealing. Millions, indeed, the vast bulk of the condemned, came to the judgement seat presuming that their good would outweigh the bad, when only one sin was sufficient to outweigh all possible good they had done. Could sin be so despicable and bad?

A soul had only to lift his eyes to the Throne and try to look upon the stupendous, stupifyingly shining Holiness enthroned there to realized exactly how enormously evil even one sin might be regarded by such a One.

Holiness swept away all misconceptions regarding sin, though all the condemned had was their misconceptions with which to defend themselves. That being the case, it was not surprising that few of the condemned souls looked at the Holy One inhabiting Eternity.

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