Suddenly found myself on my feet. Felt about six years
old as I spoke.
"I don’t want to die…"
"No," said Father John, "neither do I. Life can be very
good. I’m sure Jesus didn’t want to die either. His friends and family,
the natural world, laughter, tears, work — he loved it all I’m sure."
"But heaven—the idea of heaven seems so … I don’t
know…"
"What is your name?" asked the monk.
"Adrian…"
"Adrian, what are you interested in — really
interested in, I mean?"
"Cricket." Didn’t mean to tell the truth. It just
slipped out.
"So," said Father John, "for you, Adrian, God has to
make sure that heaven is at least as exciting and stimulating and
satisfying as scoring a century (100 points) against Australia (cricket
team) at Lords (preeminent cricket field in Great Britain). Is that your
wife sitting next you?"
Anne smiled and nodded.
"If Adrian keels over suddenly, my dear, and he’s on
the point of death, you’ll know what to do now?"
"Yes," laughed Anne, "I’ll buckle a pair of (cricket)
pads on him — quick."
Felt as if someone had opened a window and let air into
a stuffy room.
If Adrian wants heaven to be as exciting and stimulating
and satisfying as a great cricket match, then I want heaven to be as
exciting and stimulating and satisfying as a room full of dogs — all sizes and
breeds.
I strongly suspect it will be.