Imagine heaven—where happiness is the law of the land—that eternal bliss that is all void of sin—with no more yang to counter the yin—no more descending to disrupt ascending—all tears are preempted no sadness therein.
It would quickly digress to the color of grey—an atrophic undefined purposeless way, pure numbing apathy of colorless color, all black or no white, oddly no contrast of what wrong or what’s right. Heaven can’t happen and stay heaven—without hell, so saddle up long for an infinite spell. Opposition is the only that makes being, worth being.
The way to even recognize joy is to have anxieties with which to compare and the opposite’s true too. So quite possibly in heaven we will need to peek through our fingers at an occasional Wild-West hanging or inquisition? Where heavenites gather around mesmerized in *hathos, a morbid curiosity for their burning brothers (out of necessity of course) to gather around just so often to keep themselves grounded to the doldrums of trial free living—how sweet it is at the foot of a gentle tyrant—it could be worse, right? With no opposite to give joy any perspective, death would be the unlimited bore—if the Christian heaven were real.
And only look at those miserable wretches—but don’t touch. Even compassion is stifled in the demands of this heavenly bliss. Rigid, rote, and care-less or else—unable to even water the tongue of the sinner, “because between he and thee is a great gulf affixed“—Luke 16:22 you will look, but only because you will have to remain happy, or else.
*Hathos—A pleasurable sense of loathing, or a loathing sense of pleasure, aroused by a certain necessity to watch.