If you have read any of my other posts you will probably not be surprised to find out that I am a big fan of Tim Minchin. If by any chance you aren’t familiar with his stuff check out some videos from his website here and here is a link to White Wine in the Sun, the song that prompted this particular blog post. This song always, but always, makes me cry. People who know me won’t be too surprised by this, I am a bit of a blubber, the end of ET always works too.
But there is a slightly odd reason why this song by Tim gets me going. Not only does it plug into my love of Christmas and family it is also a pretty good description of my idea of heaven. Bear with me on this. . . . .
The lyrics talk about going home for Christmas where “I’ll be seeing my dad
My brother and sisters, my gran and my mum”. He also talks about showing off his daughter and how, when she grows up she can always come home to “Your brothers and sisters and me and your Mum”. Of course, being Australian, Christmas for Tim means “Drinking white wine in the sun” which, in a British December, sounds pretty good doesn’t it.
When we went to visit my mum and dad we would occasionally see them on the high street or sitting outside the Royal Oak before we got to the house. We would park up the car, get a beer and maybe a sandwich, and sit and chew the fat, us bringing them up to date about what we, and the kids, had been up to and them telling us how the last bowling match had gone and the village gossip. Then we would go back to the house. The kids would go off to climb the tree on the green and we would carry on gossiping. After tea we would usually have a political argument of some kind and sort out all the problems of the world. then we would pack the kids off to bed, open the wine & whisky, get the cards out and play bridge till about 2am.
When we visited the in-laws the kids would always hold their breath as we used to drive under the canal on the way. Then when we got there we would chew the fat about what we had been up to and where they were planning on taking the boat next, while the kids pretended to fish off the back of the boat at the bottom of the garden. Then me and my father-in-law would often have a political argument and sort out the worlds problems, along with a drink or two. (You may be noticing a theme here).
Both sets of parents/grandparents have been dead for several years now and I still miss them all very much.
After they died, whenever something happened I would think how much they would enjoy hearing about it when we visited next. Like most people, when their parents die, I thought about life and death and heaven and hell. I was, and am, an atheist, I know it is all fantasy, but I started thinking what my idea of heaven would be. Then, years later, I hear “White Wine in the Sun” and think – yeah, that’s it.
The thing is, my idea of the perfect afterlife is a kind of cross between visiting mum and dad and Tim Minchin’s Christmas. I imagine dying, doing the tunnel of light and all that and then, Dad would meet me at heaven’s gate and say “Bit of a rollercoaster isn’t it son? Come on, I’ll buy you a beer, then me and your mum will show you around”
And then later, much later, much much later, when one of my kids died, I would meet them – with exactly the same line.
Heaven would just be spending some more time with the family and some very close friends. The kind you you are completely relaxed with even if you haven’t seen them for ages. There would be a few improvements of course . . .
- Beer and wine free – gets you tiddly but not falling down drunk – with no hangovers.
- Nobody ever suffers, or gets ill, or dies. Unless they’ve had enough and they want to.
- You are, physically, whatever age you want to be.
- With eternity available you can learn to play the piano, or fly a plane, or anything.
- Weather is such that you can have both a “White Christmas” and “White wine in the sun”.
OK so that’s heaven sorted, what about hell? There won’t be one.
Eternal torture is not a proportional response to anything.
So Hitler, Stalin, and the rest would just die. No punishment – just an end, and no going to heaven with the rest of us.
If there was a religion that had this kind of afterlife maybe I wouldn’t be an atheist – no that’s rubbish – of course I would. But if I can dream up a heaven like this how come religion makes such a hash of it?
Be honest, wouldn’t you choose my version of heaven?, rather than spending eternity endlessly worshiping the God that dreamed up Hell?
May you have family, friends, white wine, sun, snow, and a very . . . .