A man died and went to the hereafter.
“Oh.” says the man, as they continue walking down the street.
Next they approach a large grassy area with a modest red brick building that has a tall white steeple at the top. There are huge tables all over the lawn covered with dishes of salad, fried chicken wings, and every casserole imaginable. People are eating to their heart’s content and laughing, talking and socializing as their children run around playing in the grass.
“St. Peter, who are all those people?” the man asks.
“Oh those people? Those are the Methodists. They’re having another one of their picnics or something.” The man nods in understanding.
They then hear unaccompanied psalm singing coming from a plain-looking, no frills building
“Ah, the Wee Frees,” says the man and Peter nods his head in agreement.
A school next – no children but the raucous noise of drums, guitars and keyboards and cries of “Hallujah! Praise the Lord! Amen!”
Peter explains that this is an Pentecostal group who hire this building for worship.
They then look through the door of an ordinary looking church building with pealing paint, crumbling stonework, a leaking roof, no heating and half a dozen old ladies (some of whom have dozed off) – yes, The Church of Scotland!
Soon St. Peter and the man start walking into and area with lots of trees. It looks like their nearing the woods. As they walk deeper into the trees, the man notices a clearing into the distance. There’s a small village of stone buildings, streams of white smoke puffing from the chimney tops, and beautiful flower and vegetable gardens around the homes. People are quietly milling around and talking.
“St. Peter, who are those people?” the man asks.
“Shhh!” shushes St. Peter with his finger to his mouth. “Those are the Jehovah’s Witnesses. They think they’re the only ones up here.”
- Cartoon: Mrs Thatcher at the Pearly Gates (englishblog.com)