This was Written in February 2022, after reflecting on the Apostles Creed, “He descended into hell”, and Christ gathering the souls in the bosom of Abraham.
This came up late in the Liturgical Living Happy Hour hosted by
. I remembered this and am republishing it here. I am still on the call and neglecting these good people to post this.It is the one thousand four hundred twenty third day of night. Or something like that. There are no stars, there are no lamps. Just eternal night. I stand in a crowd, shoulder to shoulder, with innumerable others. Some weep, some wail. Some speak–they attempt to reason with those around them, declare that there has been some mistake. I once saw a well dressed man, wealthy by all appearances, who spoke only of his brother. For my part, I know why I am here. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to arrive here at all, I didn’t think there would be anything after. But, here I am.
Sometimes, if the crowd arrays itself just right, I can see a glow, like a twilight, on the horizon. The glow seems to calm people–everyone in the crowd is arrayed facing the glow. We naturally long for light, and the darkness is unnerving. If I am feeling bold, sometimes I look straight up, into the blackness, and feel a cold chill. I remember the stars–they at least distracted me from the thought of nothingness. I don’t feel bold very often. Mostly I just face the glow, and occasionally try to press towards it, take a step here and there, so I can get a better look. The crowd is an immense, jostling mass.
Once I met a new arrival, he had lots of questions. They don’t always have questions, some of them figure it out pretty quickly. This one didn’t, and wouldn’t shut up. No one would talk to him, so it fell to me.
He asked me, “What is this place?”
I said, “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Why am I here?”
“You would know that better than me.”
“Where is He?”
“You wouldn’t ask that if you knew where you were.”
We went around in circles for a long time. Eventually he got it. I left him sobbing and wailing on the street. I could hear his shrieks for what felt like days–some people have a harder time accepting things than others.
I’m shuffling in this crowd, jostling my way towards the glow on the horizon, when the darkness is pierced by this radiant light–like the sun, almost forgotten. It appeared suddenly, out of the sky, breaking up the blackness. I can’t look directly at it, it is so bright, and my eyes have long adjusted to the eternal night. I noticed our shadows–the shadows of the crowd–were moving. The light was falling, descending towards us, or towards the glow on the horizon. Sure enough, it was falling. The light got closer (and brighter) to the horizon. Eventually it fell below the horizon, all we can see now is an even stronger glow on the horizon, like the sun is just about to rise. The chatter increased from the moment the light appeared–what is happening? What is going on? The glow persists for what feels like days.
I wonder what a light like that is doing in a place of eternal night like this. Eventually we can see the light moving again. It crests the horizon, and rises back up into the black. It is followed by a constellation of little stars–too numerous to count. The following stars are of descending brightness, the last little star, dim against the bright and radiant light of the original, follows slowly and disappears into the bright light. Then the light flashes, and disappears.
The whole event was captivating. I take a moment to rub my eyes, as they adjust to the blackness again. I look to the horizon–I can’t see it. The glow is gone. The crowd realizes this quickly, as they don’t know how to orient themselves, since before they had oriented to the glowing horizon. A nervous energy passes through the crowd like an electric current. It doesn’t take long for a different glow to start–a dull, red glow. It starts out dim but gets brighter, and more numerous. The crowd is agitated, waiting for something. The glow gets closer–I realize why it feels familiar. I start trying to move away from the glow, but there’s more behind me, it’s all around me. To my horror, I realize that whoever started it can’t contain it. The flames reach up and grow taller as they get closer, an inferno engulfing the crowd, who were so desperate for a light of any kind. I realize it’s too late: I can feel the heat of the flames.
Thank you so much for reading!
And Hell was locked forever. Having just finished Paradise Lost a few days ago, this was easy to visualize. Looks like you had a good time working on this yourself. Nice read.
(As another aside, I recommend Paradise Lost on audiobook instead of reading it.)
I was thinking about Dante's Inferno as I was reading this piece. I read Dante about 4 years as a freshman in college, and I've been meaning to return to it again.
The ominous ending is not quite what I'd expected! I'd thought it might end on a happier note, so when I got to the end, I was like, "holy cow, wait, what?" I think I'm still trying to wrestle with its meaning. Super intriguing though!