Heaven Is My Hell

I’m sorry God, but I don’t want to go to heaven. I think it’s going to be a terrible place for me because you’re apparently filling it with Christian people that have treated me badly. There’s no reason I would wish to spend eternity with those people.

When people die it’s pretty common to hear they’ve gone to be with their loved ones in a better place. Church sermons are frequently talking of the promises of heaven. Heaven is extolled as being the most perfect place where the righteous spend all eternity in the presence of God.

In my opinion, the concept of heaven is largely subjective. We project our grief, wishes, and spiritual fantasies upon the afterlife. It’s not an unusual thing to do, I guess. After all, very few of us are comfortable with losing consciousness upon our death. It’s probably not just our consciousness or sentience we’re afraid of losing, but our sapience.

I experienced, and embraced for a long time, a Christian upbringing. I’ve been surrounded by Baptist ministers in the family: my maternal grandfather; my maternal uncle; and my own father. I’ve been taught all the evangelical messages of Christianity and been repeatedly assured that our family members have been blessed with eternal life in heaven. “Born again” is the terminology. We all prayed that little prayer to make Jesus our lord and saviour and grant us forgiveness for all our sins.

So why would a person not want to go to a spiritual utopia called heaven? It’s a time to spend eternity with the almighty creator. It’s a time to find all our lost companion souls. It’s a time for all time.

The last people I wish to spend eternity with are those Christian family members who’ve hurt me so badly. The people claiming access to heaven are the family members that have chosen to remain friends with the men who sexually assaulted me for a week. The people claiming access to an eternity in heaven are the church ministers who didn’t act upon the sexual assaults despite knowing they occurred. The people claiming access to heaven are those who allowed the church minister to avoid accountability. The people claiming eternity in heaven did not advocate for me when I needed it. The people claiming access to heaven are my extended family who I must avoid here on earth to preserve my sanity and stability because of the damage from their lies, ambivalence, and indifference.

When I project my subjective view of heaven upon the afterlife, I am not filled with happiness or comfort. Heaven now represents my personal hell. An eternity with the relatives that I feel have failed me? That sounds like a monumental disaster! Catching up with the lost souls of loved ones? No way! The last souls I wish to see are those of my maternal grandparents; I couldn’t disguise the untold emotional pain inflicted upon me by their descendants. It’d kind of ruin heaven for them to find out their children and grandchildren had experienced a split unresolved by mediation.

I’m sure to be ok with the loss of consciousness when I draw my last breath. (I am hoping it’s still a while from now, though.) I don’t need the promise of an afterlife to make me feel comfortable with facing death. I certainly won’t wish for heaven. An eternal, thoughtless slumber sounds like a breeze compared to spending eternity with many of my Christian relatives.

If I end up in heaven, then I’ll know I’ve been punished by being sent to hell.