"Is Hell real?"

Hunter's questions cast out some personal demons

 Hunter has a lot on his nearly 11-year old mind. He's always been something of an old soul and very much in touch with his emotions and intuitive and sympathetic to the emotions around him. Even knowing this, I was profoundly moved when we visited the pastor of East Orrington Congregational Church, my childhood church home.

We stopped in when I arrived in my hometown. I was moved to visit because of an all too recent tragedy involving the alleged suicide of my hero, The Reverend Bob Carlson. He had been the pastor of the church when I was growing up and I needed to be close to his spirit. I wanted Hunter to see where I had gone to church, although the building I had attended was torn down decades ago to accommodate the growing congregation. My experience was the little church on the hill. Current parishioners are attending a much larger church.

Pastor Carl was warm and welcoming as he answered the door. The secretary had to take the day off, leaving Pastor Carl to answer the bell. Immediately we felt at home. Pastor Carl's gift was clear as Hunter opened up quickly and began asking him questions about the Bible, about the vestry, and about life.

Suddenly, Hunter looked a bit sheepish as he looked at me and then turned to Pastor Carl and said, "I don't know if I should ask this in a church, but is Hell real?"

I must have been visibly surprised, although I did my best to stay even-keeled as Pastor Carl prepared his response. He looked to me before he began and I gave a nod of consent to answer. 

"Hell is here right now," responded Pastor Carl.

I wasn't prepared for that answer, but I appreciated his candor and his ability to make an intangible concept understood by my son. Hunter was fascinated as Pastor Carl continued.

"We create our own Hell." He went on to share a story that I won't relate here, but it drove home the message that we are often the very ones responsible for our own torment . And the secret to escaping from Hell on Earth is to forgive the transgressor who put us there. Often, that transgressor lives inside us.

I find it fascinating that Hell was on Hunter's mind, since it was on mine too. Bob's death was far too fresh and the things he was being publicly accused of were terrible things. Things that when I read about them in other contexts, in other towns, I found myself quick to say, "There's a special place in Hell for them." My own harsh judgement was on trial suddenly, and I felt ashamed for being so self-righteous. My heart was aching and still does for the man that I knew to be kind and generous and loving. I realized I was in my own Hell, and had to trust that what my spirit told me was true. Bob was with God and being well cared for and cherished. Once I leaned into that belief, I found peace, and left my self-imposed Hell.

I am so blessed to have had  that humbling experience. Adding to it that my son was the one who helped lead me out of a Hell I hadn't even recognized before that moment, made the experience that much more precious.