But how do you know pastor?

#52essays2017
Week 3

At the young age of 9 I had my first religious skeptic experience. As far as I can remember, this is when the questioning began.

Church was right in the corner, across our apartment building. If I stuck my head out the window and looked to the left the “holy” place was visible. ‘Blessing’ me 24/7. It was a big brick house, turned Evangelical Baptist church. The congregation wasn’t as large as catholic churches’ congregations. I knew because we stopped going to a catholic church 2 years before. My mother passed by the church once, decided to go in and loved the way the pastor preached. “It’s as if he’s having a conversation with you. He talks about life. Not like the catholic church we go to.” That’s all it took for us to go from one Christian denomination to another.

I dreaded leaving my dog-brother Wolfy every Sunday morning. Leaving him on weekdays for school, was dreadful enough. But skipping church was not an option. Every Sunday morning my brother and I arrived at church 1 hour before my parents for bible classes. It was in the second floor of the church, and the teacher was a loyal church goer. I didn’t dislike nor did I like the classes. I listened, nodded, made some friends, and went downstairs an hour later to meet my parents and listen to the 2-hour sermon. It was my Sunday morning church routine.

This particular Sunday was different. It was the inception of my questioning. The sermon went on and on about the terrible things us mortals can do to forbid our entrance to heaven. And then he went too far. The pastor hit straight home.

“Animals do not go to heaven” He must have said this about three times. Every time he repeated this, as if it were a known fact, it punctured my eardrums, travelled to my limbs and heart and made them tremble. Tremble in anger.

Right there, behind his podium, in front of approximately 100 followers, all nodding in synchrony, all nodding in agreement, always accepting what he said without question, he continued “Animals don’t go to heaven because they have no souls. If there is no soul, there is no place in heaven for it”.

Have you died pastor? Have you been to heaven to know who or what inhabits it? How do you even know there is a heaven? Has a deceased family member of yours walked down from cloud-made stairs, talked to you and showed you pictures?

All these enraged questions went through my head. I was convinced he was the one that had no place in heaven.

Angry 9-year-old you may think. In that moment, yes. But Wolfy was my brother. Wolfy gave me peace like no one in my family did. He loved me unconditionally. He understood me and brought me joy. He saw me cry, and stayed by my side during all my moments of anxiety and sadness. He played a role in my alternate “life”, unlike my human family members, where every now and then I decided whether or not they could be in a scene. Wolfy was a part of it without question. He never judged. He never had any malicious thoughts or actions, unlike us humans do. He had a soul. By far a more pristine and pure one than the pastor’s.

There was no way I was accepting not seeing Wolfy in heaven, if there was one and we were to go there after death. There was no way I was accepting a comment like that without questioning it further. After the sermon was over, many walked up to the podium to personally say hi to him and his family. My mother was always one of them. As we approached him, he hugged my mother and me, and asked us how we were doing.

 “Hi pastor, how do you know animals don’t go to heaven?” Straight to the point, no beating around the bush. My mother pinched me, but I didn’t care.

 “Because it says so in the bible” he said it while shaking his head and chuckling, as if thinking, ‘what a cute kid’

Ahhh! The bible. How didn’t I think of that.

 “Where exactly in the bible is it?”

 “I’m not sure now, but it’s there” he smiled

 “But where?”

More chuckles.

“Because, from what you’ve said, and from what I’m learning in bible class, God created earth. He created paradise before he even created humans. The paradise he created was nature, oceans, forests, desserts…. there is no nature without animals. And if heaven is paradise, like what he created before us, animals will be there”

With his eyes wide open and taps on the shoulder he replied “when I find the passage, I’ll let you know”

And that was it. I never received an answer. I did get scolded at home. But I was proud to have defended Wolfy’s reserved spot in heaven. Maybe there was a straightforward passage. Maybe there was something vague that he interpreted that way. But even if I had been gifted a bible with a bookmark on the page with said passage highlighted, all I would’ve had to do was look at Wolfy’s eyes to know he had a soul. And if there was anything or anyone more deserving of a heaven, it was him.

I had my dog-brother Wolfy for 13 ½ years of my life. He’s been gone for almost 6 years now. And if he isn’t in heaven waiting for me, I rather go where he is.