February 4: Speaking Comfort, Weary Journeys, New Cartoon

"Jacob," he said, imploringly.  "Old Jacob Marley, tell me more.  Speak comfort to me, Jacob."

"I have none to give," the Ghost replied.  "It comes from other regions, Ebenezer Scrooge, and is conveyed by other ministers, to other kinds of men.  Nor can I tell you what I would.  A very little more, is all permitted to me.  I cannot rest, I cannot stay, I cannot linger anywhere.  My spirit never walked beyond our counting-house--mark me!--in life my spirit never roved beyond the narrow limits of our money-changing hole; and weary journeys lie before me!"

Marley paints a pretty dreary picture of the afterlife in this passage.  Endless wandering.  Weary journeys.  No comfort.  It's an eternal fate nobody would want.  It certainly shakes Scrooge, considering the fact that Marley intimates Scrooge's punishment will be much worse.

No one likes to think of death or what comes after death.  It's not a pleasant way to spend an afternoon.  When I was young, I once saw my mother reading a book about Purgatory.  If I remember correctly, the book consisted of visions of Purgatory that various Catholic saints and holy people had described.  It was pretty horrific.  Lakes of fire.  Molten lead being poured into mouths.  Dante didn't have anything on these visions.

I guess not too many people like to think of an afterlife that includes any kind of punishment.  It doesn't go along with the idea of a loving and forgiving Supreme Being.  I will admit that I don't care much for the thought of swimming through lava or eating cotton balls (I hate the way they squeak against my teeth!).  However, the images and stories of punishment in the afterlife have persisted throughout history.

Maybe the reason for Purgatory and Hell, eternal punishment, is to frighten human beings into being better people.  It seems to work for Scrooge.  Whether you subscribe to these beliefs or not,  you have to admit that the situation Jacob Marley's ghost describes is pretty terrifying.  It's enough to scare the shit out of me.  I know I'm not sticking to the narrow limits of my money-changing hole, or any of my holes, for that matter.  Chains and weary journeys are not for me.

Saint Marty's not speaking of comfort today.  He's speaking of avoiding lava and chains and cotton balls.

Confessions of Saint Marty