Charm City pamphlet

In the past week or so, I've been terribly remiss in writing on many fronts. So, with the start of a new week, I'm getting back into the swing of things, making up for some lost time. Last week, I traveled to Charm City for work. In a stunning display of efficiency and competence, the flights there and back landed early. No, really. Seriously. Oh, stop laughing.

I traveled to attend a 2-day meeting. The first day was long - lots of sitting and listening. The data presentations in the afternoon almost did me in. Even the presenters looked and sounded bored. Perhaps if they had presented their findings through interpretive dance. I think I'll suggest that to them.

On the morning of the second day, I checked out of the hotel and walked to the meeting site, looking the part of the modern business professional in my skirt and heels and dragging my suitcase behind me. As I made my way up the hill, I spied a pamphlet on the sidewalk. I momentarily stopped being a business professional and became a crazy person, transforming in a disturbingly short amount of time. I stopped in my tracks, turned around (suitcase still in hand), stooped, and picked up the pamphlet. I knew I was tempting fate, since the last time I was in Charm City, I fell down while simply walking from point A to point B. In my defense, I was wearing heels and walking on an uneven sidewalk. Nothing like finding yourself sitting on the ground, gathering sympathy from homeless people. This time, I didn't fall down. I consider this a minor miracle, since I was in heels, wearing a skirt, on a downward slope, and toting a backpack. I felt like finding the homeless people from my earlier fall and saying, "See, I can be graceful!"

Back to the pamphlet - the title immediately grabbed my attention: "What You MISS By Being a Christian." Well, who wouldn't want to know the answer to that, particularly if you are a Christian? I immediately guessed Hannukah, but I was wrong. According to this publication, HELL! is what you miss if you are a Christian. Given that I lived in the northeastern post-industrial wasteland for five years, I can only conclude that I am not a Christian, because that was most certainly Hell.

The writers assume that their readers won't know what Hell is, so they offer evidence, extracting phrases from Bible verses and presenting them completely out of context. The list includes some predictable descriptions:

A bottomless pit [so, Hell is like the all-you-can-eat offerings at Olive Garden. Sounds about right.]

A lake of fire.
A furnace of fire.
A devouring fire. [So, there's fire. Got it.]

A place of everlasting punishment.
A place where people cry for mercy. [I think I used to work in Hell.]

A place of filthiness. [What, no swiffers in Hell?]

A place of torments.
A place where people wail.
A place of weeping.
A place of sorrow. [Yep, that's my idea of Hell, spending all of eternity with a bunch of cry-babies.]

Then, there are the more poetic descriptions:
A place of blackness and darkness forever. [Which doesn't seem to make sense if there's an unquenchable fire.]

A place where people have no rest. [No, I suppose not, what with all the crying and fire and punishment.]

Finally, we get some descriptions that border on incomprehensible:
A place where people gnaw their tongues. [Like cows?]

A place where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched. [In all my years of regular church attendance, I don't recall ever hearing about a fire-retardant worm.]

Then, there's the most confusing description:
A place where people pray. [Well, clearly no one would want to spend eternity in a place like that.]

The pamphlet then offers suggestions to escape Hell. I thought this might be like escape from Alcatraz, where you'd dig through the walls with a nail file while making a papier mache doll and a boat out of duct tape and rain ponchos. Turns out, it's more like Dorothy escaping from Oz. First, to escape Hell, you should believe you are a sinner. Check. Believe you deserve to go to Hell. Double check, particularly after I told a blind woman that I was suffering more than she was (more on that later). And, there are a few other things on the list, none of which involve any art projects or clicking your heels three times.

At the end of the pamphlet, the publishers ask "If you have decided to trust Jesus Christ as your saviour after reading this pamphlet, please write and let us know." I think I'd only skew their evaluation results if I sent a copy of this blog. I'm also thinking that I'll never travel smoothly again and I'll fall down a lot more.