Heaven Can Wait (A Few Weeks)

Contrary to what I have been led to believe all these years, Jews do believe in heaven and hell. Good news in and of itself, as it is reassuring to know there are goals far more lofty (and, no doubt, far more attainable) than making Jewish mothers proud.

The news of a belief in the afterlife was alarming at first. Though my Talmudic knowledge is admittedly fuzzy, I do recall learning that we Jews justify our greedy partaking of the pleasures of life because we do not believe in heaven and hell, and, put simply, there's just no time like the present. We live without fear of Satanic punishment or the promise of heavenly reward, which pretty much gives us license to party. WWJD, meet WTF! We enjoy life with wild abandon, as long as we go to medical school or law school and try not to incur the wrath -- or, worse still, the disappointment -- of mom. Daunting, yes, but nowhere near as terrifying as the prospect of being condemned to eternal supernatural pain. Damn close, sometimes, but still, no contest.

As it turns out, there is no cause for alarm and, in fact, there is every reason to rejoice, even though there's a good chance I, for one, will be doing some time in hell. Apparently, we Jews take advantage of the pleasures of life not because there are no consequences but because God commands us to, because asceticism in any form is a sin. Woohoo! Thou shalt be hedonistic. Though we have few specific details about heaven, and I can only hope it's not the brightly lit (oy, how unflattering) community in the clouds (oy, the humidity) filled with cherubic angels buzzing overhead (oy, what do they feed those kids?) and presided over by some old and frail saint (give me a good deadbolt and a suburban police force trained to keep outsiders out any time). All I know is it is likely a wonderful place where good folks are rewarded for their good works on Earth, or at least their good intentions. I'm guessing there's a Bloomingdale's on every block (where every day is "friends and family" day), a beach where I look great in a bikini, and no matrimonial attorneys anywhere in sight.

But wait, the news gets even better. Hell, for us, is not a fire filled place with no windows. There is no Satan, and nobody -- not even the Jews -- has horns. There is no Dante-esque sign on the door saying "Abandon hope, all ye who enter here." A God who commands hedonism would never be so hypocritical. Hell, for Jews, while certainly not paradise, is no worse than a no-frills spa. It's a place where our imperfect souls can go to get purified, a place where, at worst, we may have to forego fancy facials and mud wraps and settle for a bit of tasteless food and an amateur massage on a shaky table in an unairconditioned room (oy, so hot, but it's not like we'll get burned). And Jews, notoriously liberal, have a like minded God, who has handed down quite lenient sentencing guidelines. No matter how impure we have been, the maximum sentence is a year, and most of us get sprung much earlier. Some of us can even be tweaked in twenty-four hours -- kind of a no-frills day spa. There's probably an occasional Groupon deal for the borderline cases, the ones who just miss the non-stop flight to heaven.

I've always been skeptical about the non-existence of an afterlife, and I have tried to comfort myself with the notion that Hell is where all the other fun people are. True enough, but we'd probably not be allowed to play with each other, and there's nothing fun about that. I suddenly feel as if I've been given a new lease on life -- and death. A few years in my double wide will prepare me well for a year or less in a place without eucalyptus scented towels and fancy French wine with dinner.

As the Bible says, "thank God I was born a Jew." Well, it doesn't exactly say that, but I'm starting to believe it's a pretty good deal.