The Great Divorce – The Lost Chapter
Suddenly I looked and saw in the distance a man that appeared somewhat familiar. He was certainly a Ghost, and I knew I had seen him before, but I couldn’t wrap my mind around who he was. I started to make my way towards him but kept my distance, so as not to grab his attention. I kept on walking amidst the bright light, noticing however that the light was getting dimmer and dimmer the closer I got to him. As I got closer I noticed a Solid Man standing with him, deep in conversation. I moved in close so I could hear them clearly and neatly planted myself behind a bush, watching carefully to keep myself hidden so as not to disrupt their conversation.
When I took a good look at him I noticed he was not like some of the other ghosts. He was an older man, I’d say probably in his mid 40s on earth when he came to be, and was very well dressed and groomed quite nicely. He was somewhat of a stalky figure, about 5’ 10” tall, a bit overweight but not obese.
I looked a bit more closely and noticed he was dressed in a fine suit and tie, Giorgio Armani or Ralph Lauren it must have been, and custom tailored to his own preferences for I had never seen a suit cut quite like his. Clasped around his wrist was what appeared to be a genuine gold Rolex watch, though it didn’t keep time of course, for there is no use for a time peace when time does not exist. His feet were graced with authentic Louis Vuitton loafers, which would probably be worth quite a shilling on earth. His outfit was certainly of a different class than what most people could have afforded on earth. This ghost was certainly a rich man when he was alive.
I sat there in a rather puzzled state, still trying to think of who he was. I knew that I knew him from somewhere, but where? Tilting my head closer I leaned in to hear the conversation between the ghost and the Solid Creature.
“Why! Why! Why! Why am I not with you?” exclaimed the Well Dressed Ghost. “Why was I sent Down There? It doesn’t make any sense! Why, I thought I’d certainly be one of the ones up here with you! I, I just don’t get it.”
His voice was deep and rather soothing despite his frustration, like the sound a calmly flowing stream or tall grass waving in the wind in a meadow. His voice seemed so familiar, but still I couldn’t place him in my earth-filled memory, if such a thing even “exists.”
The Solid Man soon responded. “The more you question yourself, the more you will never see the answer. If you could take one good look in a mirror I’d think you’d see.”
“What! Was it true? Was I really to rich to enter heaven?” the ghost sharply responded, now with an even more puzzled look on his face.
“It is not your possessions that kept you so far away. In fact, with all the wealth you did acquire, you could’ve done so much more and you would have come so much closer. It was not what you had, but what you did that kept you stuck.”
What I did! What I did! How can you say that! All I did was my job, weekly, and I spoke with him quite frequently as well. Why, I did such great things, you see. What about all those amazing stories? It was you who was behind all those, wasn’t it? How can you say it’s what I did when all I did was what you told me to do?!” The ghost was still greatly perplexed; his eyes were bright with confusion as he seemed to scratch his head. His tear ducts were swollen with anxiety as he did not understand what the Solid Man was saying.
“Well, I will say that it was certainly us who declared some of those wonderful things, and I am not going to say that good did not come out of it.” Replied the solid man
“Well then why am I stuck down there? Oh please, just give me the answer! All this bantering is not worth the hassle. I just want to know! Why won’t you tell me? I can tell you story after story. What about that lady who was bound to a wheel-chair? She couldn’t walk. She was in so much pain, and was crying in anguish! I asked with boldness for her healing and proclaimed his words over her! And she walked! She stood up out of her old-rickety wheel chair and walked! Are you telling me that it was the devil that did that? Are you really saying that to me?”
Finally, it hit me who this man was! He was once a preacher, and a rather famous one at that! His name was Timothy Jones, a pastor from the Grace Church in Atlanta, Georgia! This greatly puzzled me, because the last person you’d expect to see in hell was a pastor! Every Sunday his church broadcasted services on public broadcast television in London! His church seemed to do such great things for Christianity. Always healing and saving people, at least I thought so. Granted I shall say that I did not agree with all of their theology. I felt like they stressed a form of faith that pretty much said all Christians should be healthy, rich, wonderful people. Anything that went wrong was not our fault but the Devil, trying to destroy us. They never seemed to talk about what Christians called sin and they always focused on what they could be doing wit their money.
The ghost continued:
“What about that healing center? That prayer hall? What about the satellite dish that broadcasted services? All those things, you say weren’t about God? Are you telling me that wasn’t God at all but Satan?” the Ghost persisted. He was extremely puzzled at what the Solid Man was saying.
The solid man spoke again “Mr. Jones, it never is the things you do that get you into heaven?” “And I believed that, and taught it” The ghost interjected.
“You say you believed it, but did you really? You gave yourself such a gigantic salary and spent it in such frivolous ways, that you never were able to focus on who you really were! You never taught your people about repentance, about sin, or about judgment. All you gave them was what they wanted to hear. I watched you for many years and year after year, I began to notice that you didn’t ever teach anything more that what made everyone feel good. I knew that you yourself didn’t believe it either.”
“Didn’t I do all those things in His name? Didn’t I attribute all those miracles to God?” the ghost interjected again.
“Mr. Jones, in your conversion experience, you claimed that God appeared to you in a dream and that from then on you were called to ministry. Didn’t you ever stop to think that maybe the devil could have been behind those things? You never really repented of your sins; you believed that it was all just wiped clean! You thought you were all-in free. Worse off, how many of those healings actually happened? You used gullible Christians to make money for yourself by showing off faked miracle-healings and forced people to believe that if they gave you money, they’d be rich and be blessed. All that money went back into your pocket Mr. Jones. Don’t you see? It was about you! It was always about you and never about God! God was your little pawn which you used to your own selfish-advantage. I am not saying that your wealth is bad thing in and of itself, but remember that to whom much is given, much is required. You had money, power, and fame and you never shared it with anyone!”
“Never shared! Never shared! What about that orphanage, that hospital we built, what about all those starving kids in Africa we saved?” Mr. Jones again proceeded to plead with the Solid Man, still trying to legitimize himself.
“Did that money really go towards all those things? Furthermore, did you really want to send that money away out of love, or was it out of a sort of spiritual obligation. Mr. Jones, you took and took and took but never gave back! You performed miracles, but never knew who He was. You never really loved, did you? All this time He had His arms stretched out towards you, but you never received Him. His grace was given, but resisted!”
At this point I noticed that Mr. Jones had what appeared to be a bible in his hands, except it seemed to be quite heavy, for he seemed to be struggling to carry it. A look closer revealed that the Bible was not only heavy, but the pages were blank; it was as if Mr. Jones had his own bible in which he wrote in himself, as if he was determining what the bible said.
I noticed too that extending out from the apparent bible were chains, which seemed to morph slowing into Mr. Jones suit, almost as if they became one. Then I noticed what it was! The bible was heavy on Mr. Jones heart, but his heart was so selfish that he could not open up the bible, no matter how hard he tried. His heart was hard. Mr. Jones soon turned away from the Solid Man, again raging on and on “Why me? Why me? I’m a pastor and I’m supposed to be in Heaven!” His ghostly figure soon faded away and soon he was no more to be seen. He seemed to wander off into his own world, as if he preferred to be by himself.
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