Friday, February 17, 2006

Searching for Meaning: Heaven and Hell vs. Santa Claus

***Do not read this.***

Now that I've weeded out the easily manipulative, let's continue.

***Also do not read this if you are religious.***

Now that I have weeded out the easily offended, let's continue...

Or perhaps not if you're already angry and still reading, but I digress.


It occurred to me yesterday that belief in Heaven or Hell parallels the childhood notion of Santa Claus. Think about it. Children believe that there is a fat man in a red and white suit living at the North Pole. He has also apparently enslaved an army of little people, green suits and shoes with bells on them, a sign of their servitude. Under the direction of Santa, an old man who lets little children sit on his lap and photograph it for a fee, directs the creation of toys for all the good little boys and girls of the world, that he will on Christmas Day deliver to every child in the world (all three billion of them) while they sleep that night. Well, maybe not all of them, just the Christians and those who go along for the ride.

Of course, as we grow up, we realize that this is utterly impossible, despite the efforts of every Christmas movie in existence, some good, most not, that Santa Claus is not real. His sole non-religious purpose is to reward children for being good. Of course, you'll get presents anyways and any year where you don't get what you want, you suffer from some suedo-guilt trip wondering what you did to disappoint Santa in the past year. Regardless, the point is that we grow out of it.

However when it comes to the idea of Heaven and Hell, we continue to believe it for our whole lives. I know why too. It's a way to feel a part of something, to feel like no one is alone, in essence this is the whole reason for God, to feel loved. One cannot see Heaven or Hell while alive, and those who supposedly do get there, don't come back. So, my question is: How do we know what either is supposedly like? Or if either even exists?

Lots of children will argue with you as to whether or not Santa exists. They are so sure that he does, because it gives them a warm, accepted feeling. The same goes for Heaven and Hell. It just makes sense to create such places for dual reasons: One, it instructs people to be good. (Which is a nice thing, I suppose, though a litte arcane. Do we still have to brandish a whip to get people to be good?) And, two, people are social creatures by design and need to feel like they have a purpose, that their existence makes some sort of difference in the grand design. (Why there would be a grand design when the universe tends towards simplicity is beyond me.)

Personally, I'd rather die thinking that there was nothing after it and then be pleasantly surprised. Once someone is dead, their only shred left of existence is the impact crater that they left on the living. I would find it a final insult to my memory if my final beliefs (that there was something beyond life) did not actually come true. In this way, all that is left of me will be tarnished by what I was in life as it was concluded postmortem.

If there is an afterlife, then I'd still exist on some level and not care about the impact crater that I left behind, as I will still exist on a more tangible level. In this way, if my imprint was tarnished by a falsehood, I will still have my spirit, so my imprint will not be my final, only the end of a chapter of my existence.

The way I see it, Heaven and Hell are just like Santa Claus. They are falsehoods set before you in your childhood, in the case of Santa your literal childhood and in the case of Heaven and Hell your metaphorical childhood (your naivete of the afterlife). And, if I am to live beyond the celestial plane, then I'd rather it come as a surprise, than to have my final imprint tarnished forever with a lie spearheaded by the Church in an effort to maintain a control over the minds and hearts of man, to remain in power (they are a government after all). Maybe I am wrong. Maybe there is a Heaven and Hell. I'll wait to find out. And, when I do, I'd rather be surprised than indifferent. But until that day, I will assert that I do not need others support and I do not need to feel included. I am not petty.

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