Judgment: The Moments Of Eternity

(I realize that this is but a poor description of hell. It is not meant to be representative of reality but is, rather, meant to make you think. No words can adequately describe the torture that awaits those who make it there. Those who have spurned God–who heard the Word and yet rejected it–who spent their lives willingly engaging in sin–will spend eternity in hell, wishing that they hadn’t refused to come to Him in obedience. Unfortunately there are many in the church who believe that they are saved who aren’t. And, there are those who know they aren’t saved who simply don’t care or who don’t believe in the reality of hell: church to them is more of a convenience–a connection to the “right” people. A social club, if you will. Hell was not created for mankind but for the devil and his demons. We only go to hell if we choose to go to hell by engaging in sin. Today it is unpopular to speak of hell even in our churches. This shouldn’t be. Sinners need to know that they are sinners and the righteous need to know that there are standards. Those who think they are sheep who are actually goats are going to have a horrible realization one second too late one day. It’s a kindness to rescue someone from a burning building. It’s even more a kindness to rescue someone from the eternal fires of hell. The next time your preacher starts talking about hell, stop and listen. If he doesn’t ever talk about it perhaps you could suggest that he do so. Remember it is from our loving and gentle, meek and mild Jesus that we get most of our information on hell. Remember eternity is eternal. It will never, ever end.)

Handcuffed and guarded on either side, I am brought into the courtroom. I am on trial for crimes that I have committed and it is time for me to hear my sentence. Leading me to the defendant’s seat, one deputy removes my handcuffs and joins the other in standing directly behind me. I cannot stop shaking.

The Judge enters and everyone rises. Seating Himself, He motions for everyone else to follow suit. Except for me. Indicating that I am to remain standing, He calls my name and says that the verdict has been reached. Swallowing hard, I try to steady my hands in front of me as I raise my eyes to His. Staring through me He simply says, “You are guilty and you must die.”

It’s over almost before it began and the deputies waste no time in handcuffing me. As they lead me from the courtroom, I try to break free and run. I’d known I was guilty, of course, long before my trial had ever begun. I’d committed the crimes that I had been accused of–every single one of them. Some I’d committed without realizing it but the others? Though some crimes had been imitated by other people, I’d willingly participated; and some I had planned myself fully knowing that I was breaking the law. Now I had been caught and sentenced and it only remained for me to wait to die.

As the deputies led me along, I thought that they were taking me back to my cell: a lonely, dark place devoid of all comfort and joy but, for the last few weeks, home. That wasn’t to be. By-passing the hall that lead to my cell, the deputies determinedly turned me another way. “Where are we going? My cell is back there.” They only shook their heads slightly and tightened their grip on my arms. The click of their shoes on the floor contrasted with the flop of my slip-on’s. Click, flop, click, flop played in my head as we walked. I wondered again where we were going but then, suddenly, without warning we were there.

A large, imposing door loomed in front of us. “Too late” was painted in bold letters over the top of it. I could hear voices coming from the other side. “Why? Why are we here? What is this place? What are you doing?” Though I asked these questions, they still didn’t answer. Silently one man opened the door as the other one firmly but gently, almost sadly, pushed me forward. The room was stark with few furnishings. A small grouping of wooden nondescript chairs stood at one end; at the other sat something that I had lived my life hoping never to see: a very large, very ugly chair with clamps, wires and needles attached to it. It wasn’t quite an electric chair but it wasn’t quite not, either. My heart raced faster as I began to struggle. “What are you doing? There must be some mistake. I get to make an appeal. I need to see my lawyer!” My voice became shrill and I began to stammer. It made no difference. No one was listening to me.

One guard held me tightly while a man who had been waiting in the room approached us. Using a knife, he ripped my clothes from my body and gave me a thin paper covering in place of them. Swiftly he placed it around me and then stuffing a cloth in my mouth, he taped it shut. Though the men spoke quietly among themselves, my heart was pounding so hard I could hear only it. Forcing me back into the chair, one man placed needles in my veins while another placed straps around my forearms, body and legs. Wires were attached to my head and clamps were placed around my wrists and ankles. At the other end of the room someone unveiled a large screen. Scenes from my life flashed on it. Things that I had done that no one else could have seen or known were now shown for everyone to see. The chair was turned on and pain began to course through my body.

I heard new voices. The room had filled and I hadn’t realized it. My mother and father were there as well as childhood friends, co-workers, and other family members. In fact, it seemed as if everyone that I had ever known had crowded into that little room. They laughed, they cried, they pronounced me guilty. My mind began to spin from the pain. I couldn’t take much more but it seemed that I must. The scenes now showing were from my teen years. There were so many, many more to go. No one seemed to care that I was in agony. At some points, for some crimes, the punishment was cranked up and I would nearly faint.

Finally, the film ground to a halt. It ended with my sentencing. I was amazed that I was still alive. The people in the room gathered around me. “Liar!” “Thief!” “Murderer!” They began to slap and kick me. Bound in the chair, I was helpless to do anything but look at them. Spit landed in my face over and over again. I couldn’t wipe it off.

“Enough.” Someone else had entered the room. I recognized the voice as that of the Judge. I had a brief hope that He had come to release me but I was wrong. “Let it proceed,” he said. Everyone was ushered back to the rickety chairs at the other end of the room. Amazingly the thousands of people fit into chairs for 20. Again, I heard the Judge’s voice. “You have been sentenced to death. Let it begin. There will be no mercy.”

I began crying. Tears that had built up as I had endured the previous torture now spilled down my face. The chair that I was strapped to began to move. Pain rushed up my arms and down my legs as electric volts, multiplied from their former wattage, shot through me. Vomit rose in my throat but I couldn’t spit it out. I gagged as I tried to swallow it. My body jerked and then convulsed. I expected to pass out at any moment. My brain crazed mind now noticed something that I had missed before: a clock on the wall at the end of the room. “The moments of eternity” was etched on a plaque over it. I watched in horror as the hands went round and round. Minutes turned into hours and hours into days. Didn’t anyone need to sleep? There was no sleep, no reprieve of any kind from the torture or from the endless self-condemnation: I had known that I was wrong so many, many times and yet I hadn’t cared. I cared now…oh, how I cared! And, yet…it’s too late.

Finally, I died but death was not an ending but a beginning. I felt myself rise through the air and yet I could feel the torture that my body was still receiving. I watched in horror as my body burst into flames. Each spark sent pain exploding inside of me. I couldn’t understand it: I had a body that I could feel and see but yet I couldn’t. It made no sense. All that made sense anymore was the voices and the darkness that had now descended on me. It was darkness unlike any that I had ever experienced before and yet through it I could see my body engulfed now in flames, still undergoing endless torture by those around me. Torture that wound up inside of me where I was–somewhere floating in…nothingness. It went on and on. People laughing, cursing me, torturing me. My own thoughts…my memories…torturing me. The darkness, the fire, the pain, the voices. The darkness, the fire, the pain, the voices. On the wall, the hands of the clock of “the moments of eternity” continued their endless cycle. The judgment would go on forever.

The darkness….