Just for the sake of argument, let’s say we have eight billion people on earth today.
Let’s say their have been eight billion more people on earth since Day One.
Sixteen billion people. Give or take.
That is an impossible number to deal with, so let’s follow just one person – Adam 341. As his name implies, his great-great-great-grandfather was the first Adam.
Now then, we only know about Adam 341 because someone in 1841 was doing genealogy and tracked down an ancient relative. We will name this researcher Adam 1841.
This relative of Adam 341 wrote down his progenitors name on a piece of paper. Unfortunately, the ink dried, and when Adam 1841 gave that piece of paper to The Record Keeper, the record couldn’t be kept. Adam 341 faded back into obscurity.
Over the years, millions of other pieces of paper were given to the Record Keeper. Millions upon millions of pieces of paper. Eventually, typewritten pages were given to the Record Keeper Then names were entered onto punch cards. Then, microfiche. Then big, old, floppy disks. Then the disks became even more and more sophisticated until portable “thumb drives” were invented.
The Record Keeper had to dig a great big cave to store those millions and millions and millions of names.
Still, he didn’t have billions of names. Just millions.
Now, Adam 341 and Adam 1841 have both been dead for centuries. They have been hanging around in a huge room just the other side of the Next Life. Along with a few billion other people, they are waiting for their names to be called so they can move on to whatever fate awaits them.
People in the Waiting Room don’t take long to separate in to similar groups. Those who love to love start gathering together. People who love to hate gravitate toward each other in a darker corner of the Waiting Room. Whatever group, each individual has to wait for their name to be called before progressing.
Billions of people in the waiting room will wait a very, very, very long time, because their names were never written down by anyone on earth. They have to rely on this guy named John, reading from something called “The Book of Life.”
Like the turnstiles inside a monstrous Grand Central Station, dead people funnel down into smaller and smaller lines as names are slowly called.
The “Great Decider” is off in an enclosed, glass booth just out of sight. Many people know instinctively just which line to get in, but many are confused and wait for a nudge from the Great Decider.
Similar-minded people gather together and receive a similar colored stamp on their wrists.
Unfortunately, written records for Adam 341 and Adam 1841 have either faded or been lost. Just when they think they might be herded into one line or another, a different name is called out. “Adam 430 proceed to Gate 12A. Adam 1414 proceed to Gate 7B.” The names drone on and on and on.
So, the question arises, just exactly how do all sixteen billion people know where to go?
What if there are MORE than sixteen billion people?
Back on earth, some of the living think the dead only have two choices for their final destination. Heaven or Hell. Using that theory, let’s say I sin five times per week on average. That’s 260 sins per year, or an average of 0.7123287671 sins per day. What if the cut-off to qualify for heaven is only 0.7123287670 sins per day? I will miss eternal bliss by 0.000000001 percentage points!
WHACK! I am cut off forever!
But what if the dead are waiting to be called into thousands upon thousands of different destinations? That offers me a sliver of hope.
This sinner prefers those odds.