Will There Be Rollercoasters In Heaven?

Live like there is no light at the end of the tunnel.

“If you don’t go to Sunday school,” mom threatened, “you’re not getting into heaven.”

Those were mom’s big guns when I was growing up. Heaven, she described, was a million times better than the best birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese, with unlimited tokens, bottomless pizza pies, and present — lots of presents.

So I went, and when the Sunday school teacher made it to the part about Heaven, I listened.

“You’ll worship all day and fellowship all night,” teacher explained. She was squatty, bird’s nest hair the color of rust, and always smiling. She claimed Heaven was in the clouds.

I hate worship, my nine-year-old brain thought. And I hate people who use the word fellowship. Where were the parties, the golden roads, the no bedtime and waterslides, and hoverboards mom promised?

“Will there be rollercoasters in heaven?,” I asked. “And will even us short kids get to ride them?”

“Oh no, no, no,” she said. “Heaven doesn’t need all that. It’s Heaven.”

I remember sitting there in my red, indestructible plastic chair and holding back tears. I like rollercoasters, I thought. At least the few I was tall enough to ride. And I’d always dreamed of being like the big kids and riding them all.

“Heaven should have rollercoasters,” I whispered, crushed.

We learned about Hell the following week and how to avoid it. And that’s when I got really confused.

“Do what your parents tell you,” she said, “and you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

She made Heaven seem like Harvard and Hell, well, Hell was more like a third world country where all the poor people lived.

As the years passed, I learned just how wrong my knee-high Sunday school teacher was. She had no clue what Heaven was like. No one does. And that’s just fine.

However, placing all your hopes and dreams on some distant dreamland you won’t see until you die isn’t helpful. Not in this life, anyway. In fact, it’s dangerous. It assumes there’s no reward in this life, so why try?

Nietzsche didn’t like this idea either. He thought there was plenty of suffering in this life to keep us busy. It would be in our best interest, Nietzsche contended, if we would focus on eliminating as much suffering in the here and now as possible.

It doesn’t mean Heaven doesn’t exist and that it’s not the best eternal birthday party there is; it means we’re not there yet. And the best way to make us worthy of a blissful afterlife is to live like there isn’t one.

Live today for today’s sake.

Live like there is no light at the end of the tunnel.

Live like the reward is the tunnel itself. Today, this day, the only day that matters.

Imagine if we all aimed at ending the suffering of others because it’s the right thing to do. No rewards. No applause. No cosmic compensation. Can you picture it? Heaven on earth.