My Good and Faithful Servant
“Where am I?”
George Patterson woke up on the side of a street, head pounding and body feeling like he had been hit by a truck. He sat up shaking his head, hoping his memory would come back. As he became more aware of his surroundings he saw a the aftermath of a car wreck behind him. An old Chevy pick-up had the passenger side smashed in with the engine on fire. A diesel truck was near by with its front end equally smashed in and the driver was stumbling out of the door.
“Sir! Are you okay!?” George yelled as he ran toward the accident. The truck driver gave no response. As George approached the smashed Chevy he recognized the sun bleached hood, the cross hanging from the rear-view mirror. Then he saw the body of the driver, himself.
George stood there watching the driver of the diesel dragging his own body out of the Chevy while calling for help. He stood there watching as the ambulance came and the paramedics announced him dead.
If spirits could vomit George would have been, as the realization that he was actually dead hit him and his heart splashed into his stomach.
“George Patterson?” A man called from behind.
“George Patterson, age: 65, occupation: Priest. That is you, correct?”
George turned and saw a man dressed in a black suit and cane in hand.
“Yes that is me. Can I ask who you are?”
“They always ask that” the man said to himself.
“You don’t need to know my name. But I am your reaper. I am here to guide you to paradise”.
“Paradise?”
“Come now George. You of all people should know what I mean. Paradise, the land of milk and honey. Heaven, George. I am here to lead you to Heaven.” As the reaper said this however, there was tinge of sorrow in his voice.
George was still trying to cope with his own death now he was being lead through a veil to Heaven. He did not feel the joy that he preached in sermons about. He felt no relief knowing that his sins did not out weigh his good works and that a life of service to God had allowed him to meet Him. Rather the doubt that had been growing in his chest only grew some more. All he felt was confusion.
“Please enter George.” The reaper was standing at the entrance of a glass box that resembled an elevator.
“Aren’t you going to join me? Answer questions that I have?”
“Things have changed George. You will see. Enjoy the ride.”
The doors shut and the box began to rise in the air. George was able to see the world shrink as he looked through the glass. His home town became his home state, which became the planet as he entered the heavens.
“There is no way this is real. I must just be unconscious, not actually dead.
What did he mean that things have changed. How could God change?”
This internal battle continued as the door opened, and George saw the gates. However there were no angels to greet him and pearly gates welcoming him. They were broken, hanging by their hinges and the walls that connected them were falling apart. Next to the entrance there was an open book, a ledger of names, and times of death with either a check mark or an ‘X’ next to it.
“Where is St Peter? What happened here?”
George’s frustration grew at the stack of questions and lack of answers. He walked through the gates and noticed that it wasn’t only the gates that were in ruin. Palaces and castles looked like ruins, with walls crumbled and vines growing up the sides taking over.
“Where are the Angels?”
“Where is God!?” This last question was yelled as George collapsed to the ground. His personal world was beginning to look like what he was told was paradise. A life time of service and faith to a god who seemed to abandon him. Countless hours of advice to members of his congregation and strangers alike, in prayer and in scripture. How could his faith be stronger than the walls of what he had faith in?
George kept walking, wrestling with these questions and eventually he saw a group of angels. They were gathered together, some of them seemed to be lighting candles and placing flowers at a casket.
“Excuse me. May I ask what is going on?”
“He died.” said the nearest angel.“We never thought this could happen. Many of our brothers and sisters are deciding who will take over or if anybody should.”
“Excuse me who is ‘He’?” demanded George. By this point he was close to exploding.
The angel turned to face him. His face was lined with tears, eyes sunken as they recognized George as someone new.
“I’m sorry, nobody new has come here in quite some time. Didn’t the reaper explain it all to you?”
“No! He just said things had changed and left me. Now tell me who died? I thought that angels couldn’t die. This is paradise, the final stop, home for the lord’s faithful.”
The angel face turned and more tears streamed down as George finished his sentence. “You should go and see the casket I think, it should answer some questions”
George looked into the casket and saw an man. His hair was white as was his beard. He was dressed in the same blinding white suit as the angels. Immediately George felt a heavy sorrow and loss. The last stone of his world just toppled over as his heart told him who this was.
God was dead.

