I’ve said before (to the point of being sick of it) that the night my father died, he appeared in my room. He mainly had one of two expressions - some of the time he was looking over my head with an expression of awe on his face, and at other times he was hiding his face behind his hands as though he could not bear to watch what he was seeing. At those times he seemed desperately ashamed, as though he wanted to hide.
At the very end he gave this terrific scream and just disappeared. But just before that he looked completely desolate.
My interpretation of this is that I think he was awe struck by the divine judgement seat (and I saw nothing except him), and at other times he was seeing his more sinful actions, and couldn’t bear it in the light of absolute truth and grace.
When he looked completely desolate, I think he’d just been rejected. Then the screaming started, and it was obvious something came for him from his right, or my left. If he’ really had been looking over my head at the judgement seat, then one could literally say that whatever it was that was coming for him was coming from the left of the judgement seat (the sheep will go to the right, the goats to the left…).
The whole thing, including our conversation, only lasted a couple of minutes. So I think it’s pretty quick. It won’t be like the drawn out expensive trials in our own court system. There’ll be no appeal, as we’ll know to the core of our being that the judgement is just.
I expect my own judgement will be much the same. I may be forgiven, but I’ll still have to sit through a mixture of being awestruck on the one hand, and being appalled at some of my own actions on the other.
I’ll become much more aware of those things I didn’t do, and should have done, just as much as those things I did do, good and bad. There will be things that I didn’t think important, but were, and things that I thought important, but which will turn out to be of little account.
Of one thing I’m fairly certain, although I find it hard to bring it home to my emotions - my “career” path, or more accurately, the lack of it, won’t even be important. What will be important will be how I treated other people, particularly the “least of these my brothers”.
The world thinks our social status and career paths are important, but I don’t think God has the same opinion. The Pharisees had all the status symbols of their day - John the Baptist ate locusts and wild honey.
Then I’ll go one way or the other, just like him.
And because of this experience the night my father died, I’m a bit jaundiced about all those near death testimonies, where all they have to report were angelic choirs and nothing but bliss.
