May they never stab me with their knives, may I never fall helpless into their chambers of torture.
-The Egyptian Book of the Dead
An ancient Egyptian heart must balance against a feather after the person has died. I think everyone asks themselves at some point in their life what the afterlife is, or they ignore it altogether. We chant over and over: I am pure, I am pure, I am pure. We want to believe it, though we know in our gut that it’s not true.
There’s a funny thing about love, I think; most love is based on conditions (if you bring me happiness, I’ll bring you happiness). It’s all a mishmash of politics, bringing in allies and fighting battles, using smooth words and making the most convincing speeches.
We do our best to get everything we want out of it, yet we have this instinctive knowledge that there is such a thing as justice and that there is some satisfaction in serving and upholding the cause of widows and orphans. And so we serve others, but we never do it perfectly, and all the while we are chanting: I am pure, I am pure, I am pure, as the lord of darkness steadily nears.
We are terrified of darkness and must memorize a weighty book of rules and knowledge in order to gain a pleasant afterlife. That is, if you’re an ancient Egyptian. If you’re a Christian, it’s different. If you’re a Christian you admit that you are not pure and are sinful from birth—that you need a Savior, and then Jesus comes into your heart and cleanses you.
Jesus’ love is rather unique because it doesn’t have any conditions, it is agape. And once you become a Christian, nothing can separate you from the love of God; He is Almighty. He is Light, and in Him there is no darkness at all. He will walk with us all the days of our lives, be with us through thick and thin, give us hope, and then one day carry us Home to be with Him.
I am not an ancient Egyptian, I am a Christian, and Jesus has saved me. Amen.