Reply #2: I've seen a lot of death

[Warpy]

and, generally speaking, the ones who profess to love god the most are the ones who least want to meet up with him.

I think it's the whole idea of being judged by some nasty naked malevolent Santa Claus sitting on a cloud in a green eyeshade, going through a list of all your sins, one by one, with everybody watching. What a horrible idea of an afterlife! People really seem to believe that one, too.

My dad told me just before he died that he'd finally rejected "all that Sunday school stuff" about what it was going to be like. I told him that I'd been close once, and that the feeling of letting go of everything was a wonderful one. He seemed to take comfort from that, and his passing was fairly easy when it came.

The only thing we all know is that we don't know. It's hard not to feel sorry for fundies when their time comes, and for their fundy families. Whether we go on to an afterlife, a rebirth, or just float into nonexistence on a tide of happy hormones, it seems horribly cruel to ruin it with scary stories of brutal judgment.

I do know if all I find when I die is that mean old white man on a cloud, I am going to be very disappointed in the cosmos.