You Can Take It With You

A little less than two years ago the grandson of a college friend of mine died. Fredⁱ was a real “whiz.” Like his father who excelled in scientific development, he outdistanced all his peers.ⁱⁱ He was top of his class at Stanford from which he got an MBA, not too long after finishing in the highest five percent of graduates at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, where he had majored in computer science while taking several courses in aeronautical engineering as well. He was ready to take on the world when it happened. Whatever it was. That was never quite clear, but, after collapsing at work and being taken by ambulance to the hospital, he was pronounced dead by a doctor at New York–Presbyterian, only to be revived using CPR by a medical student who walked by a moment later and saw him twitch. (A similar event had occurred with his father but he had never talked about it.) The whole incident raises a lot of questions which I'll ignore for now, because it also initiated a situation which is far more interesting.

Let me tell you first a little about Fred. I gave you some of the highlights of his academic background earlier, but I didn't mention enough about the fact that he was a real go-getter. He was determined to be rich,ⁱⁱⁱ and he had decided that the entrepreneurial path was the one for him. His first effort involved aeronautics. He developed computer software that could analyze aircraft function and diagnose and repair potential problems during flight, before they could manifest themselves and threaten the situation. He was in the middle of beta testing when he died, but his program had already attracted a lot of attention in the industry and he appeared to be on the way to achieve his goal of self-earned riches.^iv This was primarily as the result of a single incident in which the software, although it didn't actually fix it, located a problem on a plane in flight that would have been unrecoverable and would have resulted in loss of one of the engines if it hadn't been discovered as early as it was, allowing the pilots to land the airplane safely, if prematurely.

And he “died” prematurely. His apparent demise occurred during the testing phase of the device, but since he didn't actually succumb, it didn't die with him. “A Wing And A Prayer,” the name of the product he was creating, may have been delayed but it made a soft landing. His interest in it, however, seemed somewhat muted after he returned from the hospital and others took it over, though he continued as consultant and advisor on the project. No one else could solve the technical problems as elegantly as he. All he would say when questioned about what seemed to be a loss of interest was “I have other things on my mind.”

Most people attributed his new attitude to a very uncharacteristic obsession with “the meaning of life.” His interests had been very concrete and what they considered the switch from science to philosophy was unexpected. But, after all, he had gone through an experience which is rare – one that no one among his acquaintances could imagine, so none of them challenged what seemed to be a change in personality and a change in focus. The loss to the company of his drive and brilliance was of greater concern to stockholders than to friends. His friends – at least those whom he had not solicited as investors in the aeronautics project – were more worried about his mental and physical health than about computer software.

But they were wrong. Fred felt well – better than he had ever felt – though his mind was on a new project. Those who spoke with him assured me that he was completely “with it.”

Well, that could be debated.

Some of his friends pressed him to talk about his feelings – to tell them what had been going through his mind. They wanted to know what accounted for the change in him. Perhaps they had been reading too much pop-psychology, but talking and hugging seemed to be the answer to all problems. Fred refused the hugging, but he was willing to talk a little. One of them (our mutual friend Carl) related what he had experienced.

“It all results from my conversation with Bernie.”

That's what Fred told him.

“Bernie who?”

A little more questioning from our friend.

“The angel Bernie.^v And his ideas about the OWWW.”

“I don't understand. And it all sounds weird. Tell me more about Bernie.”

Fred was happy to continue.

“He's an angel like all the others. Robe, wings, and all that sort of stuff.”

That was where the discussion ended. Carl was too befuddled to continue.

It sounded weird to me too when I heard about it, so I pushed Fred a little harder when I spoke with him. Carl had backed off and “humored” him. So he never got the whole story.

Fred was “dead” for only a few minutes. At least that was the way it seemed in our terms. But when I asked him about the experience, he had an entirely different perception.

“It was just like the way everyone describes it – that is, not really everyone, but the ones who have been through it like me. There was a tunnel and a very bright light at the end. A hand took me and brought me into the light. It was wonderful, but I can't describe it more specifically than that. I know that I was in whatever place it was for a long time, but I'm sure of that only because so much happened. There was no feeling of time passing, so I can't judge it that way.”

I don't pretend that he convinced me. You read stories of “near-death experiences” all the time. They seem to be simply expressions of what people want to believe. They're afraid of death and the “dream” they had during their coma (or whatever it is) serves to provide them with something to believe so that when they awaken they're immunized against that fear for ever after. And that's the way I understood Fred's story. Until he started going into particulars.

“The place was filled with ethereal figures, but it wasn't crowded. The whole thing didn't seem to make much sense. It was,” and he paused for a moment, “kind of like a dream.”

That was what I had assumed. It wasn't real – only repression, regression, or one of those psychological defense mechanisms. Dismissing what he said was easy. At least at the beginning.

“One of the first people – no angels – I met was Bernie.”

I nodded and smiled.

“I know this sounds bizarre, but this is exactly what happened.”

Right.

“Anyway, Bernie introduced me to some of the others, but he was the one whom I found most interesting. He had died a few hundred years earlier. Told me his whole story. Before his heart attack he had been a banker in Germany. Even though I don't know German I understood him completely. No accent. And he understood me too. As a matter of fact everyone understood everyone else. It didn't seem to matter where you came from, or when. In fact he introduced me to some old Egyptian Pharaoh and we had no trouble communicating. He told me all about all the things buried with him and how much he enjoyed them. There were lots of others there too. And they all seemed to be happy.

“I wondered how they kept busy and was fascinated when Bernie told me that most of them were entrepreneurs. He got my attention. The time at Stanford was great, but it hadn't prepared me for this. When I pressed him a little on the subject he said that his work was actually something that I might know a little about. He had long ago perfected 'cloud' technology and 'virtual reality,' and could use the latter to inform earthbound techies about the latter – or anything else for that matter. When the time was right he'd simply 'invade' every computer. He had me.”

Now I was starting to get bizarre ideas.

“The next day ...”

“You were only unconscious for a couple of minutes.”

He ignored me and just continued.

“I found the Pharaoh and asked him a few more questions. I got most of my information from him, but he underlying idea was also based on what I learned from Bernie. And it's Bernie who's implementing it.”

Besides the underlying doubts, I really didn't understand what he was saying. It was clear that he had a well-formed picture of what he was describing, but it was a little difficult for me to swallow in undigested form.

“Sorry. It's all so vivid for me. Anyway, I was struck by the fact that the Pharaoh had possessions but no one else did. But the reason turned out to be obvious, if not intuitive. He was better prepared. All the things he thought he'd need were buried with him. So he had them. Of course he learned quickly that nothing he had was of any value, but he had all of it. Even the servants that were buried with him were of no use to him. They were now his equals. Everyone was equal wherever it is that we were.”

“Men and women?”

“There were no men. There were no women. There were only souls – souls that were pure, and there was no difference in their nature. And they weren't at all corporeal. There were no bodies. So there were no physical defects. None was young or old.

He continued.

“Well, that's not completely accurate. There was kind of a hierarchy and it was based on a couple of things. The Pharaoh did have an advantage over many of the others because he had been rich and highly positioned in life. (You don't specifically get recognition for that but it's a better starting point than poverty.) And there was an advantage to having been religiously observant. It doesn't matter what the religion was. The Pharaoh earned credit for his belief, even though it was misplaced. There everyone is brought around to the one true religion. And when they reach that level they seem to be completely happy; completely at peace. That takes longer for some than others – for those who were distant from their heritages – especially atheists – it may take centuries. But eventually they're happy.

“And sooner or later so are the wicked, although it takes a lot more time if you flouted the rules of the society in which you lived – especially if you oppressed others. The basic premise is that those who were evil chose not to fight the unworthy instincts with which we were all born. Their happiness was delayed not because they were evil – we all have that potential – but because they accepted that condition without an adequate fight.”

It made a lot of sense to me. And I certainly wanted to believe it. I'm reasonably well-off, and if not that much of a community leader, at least I'm relatively honest and respectful of all around me. It's reassuring to know that at least there's a possibility that I'll enjoy an afterlife in which I'll be happy. But I didn't know where Fred was leading. All that he had said seemed to be the preamble to something, even though it wasn't clear what the upshot was.

So I pressed him.

“Where is this all leading?”

He went on. I'm not even sure that he heard me. I had the feeling that he was simply continuing his story.

“Later that day – or was it the next day? – ”

This time I didn't bother to make any attempt to bring him back to reality, yet I was impressed, or maybe amused, by the amount that he claimed to have experienced. And he seemed to believe it.

“I spoke to Bernie again. Told him all about my conversation with the Pharaoh. He smiled and told me that Tut was getting there, but he had a long time to go – at least a millennium or two – and that the scenario he related was only part of the story. It's good for now, but sooner or later the Messiah will come. That's no myth. Of course we don't know when that will be. Interestingly, Bernie didn't know, although he didn't seem to lack any other information.

“'Yes. Someday the Messiah will come.' I had always considered that a good thing, but Bernie disabused me of that idea.

“'In many ways it will be a continuation of this life, but there will also be differences.' I asked him to tell me what he meant and he told me that the good life we'd been enjoying would continue in 'Heaven' (that was his word) and all those on then earth would come and join us. But they could bring their money and purchase all the temptations that they'd learned to love during their time on earth. Anything they desired would be available on the OWWW and we'd get an eternal supply for the initial price. Only those already in Heaven would lose out since they'd have no money to spend."

He had never clarified “OWWW” and I had no idea what it was. So I interrupted and asked. This time he heard me.

“It's the 'Other-World Wide Web.' The main use is as part of the program to bring everyone up to speed on the true religion and all the virtuous acts that our residents perform. They can help each other to see the light, though I suspect that I did so without their help when I was in the tunnel. Souls can communicate with each other as well. They can learn from each other, because learning is never finished. And, to a point, they can connect with the WWW, although their address is changed so there is no trail to the OWWW.

And they can't log onto any site that requires money.^vi That makes it impossible to get some of the most recent religious insights. Of course they're not short of divine wisdom in Heaven, but for more than a millennium it's been a human prerogative to determine the meaning of the holy works and they only learn of the advances after the various authors die.^vii Since their books cost money, no one on the OWWW can get them and they only learn the new ideas after the authors die. And, unfortunately, medical progress on earth is resulting in longer life spans, so we have to wait longer. Since time progresses slowly in comparison to what we experience on earth, it can be a while before the new information reaches Heaven. Not that they have any place to go or that they're likely to run out of time, but they're junkies for that stuff. After all, spiritual knowledge is one of the criteria for status in that venue.”

I still wasn't sure where he was going. Fred had a lot to say and he seemed to be unstoppable. And what he said was a little complicated. But I was beginning to take him seriously. Even if I didn't really understand what he was telling me. Even though my own education was in law and, though I knew some science, my knowledge of it wasn't much beyond that of an intelligent layman, I was most struck by concepts of time – that of “Heaven” and ours here on earth. I still believed that the apparent expansion of time in dreams was the best explanation, but I couldn't rid myself of thoughts of Einstein. Suppose Heaven is in motion, and moving close to the speed of light. Time would certainly slow down in comparison to what we experience. Maybe that's what was happening. Or was I just getting sucked in? And why do I have to use rational concepts to explain anything as mystical as he was relating?

So I just listened.

“And then it all started falling in place.”

Finally Fred was getting to the point.

“'Bernie,' I said, 'I think that working together we can solve some of the problems you've described. As I understand it, Heaven isn't so different from earth. The biggest problem is money. And what makes it a problem is distribution. But it doesn't have to be. As long as your OWWW can communicate with the WWW it's possible that some way can be found to transfer money.^viii I could try to convince them to have their money buried with them like the Pharaoh, but that would be up to their heirs, and I suspect it wouldn't happen very often. It's not a feature of modern religions and people are greedy. They'd rather pocket the money than throw it into a hole.' But what I needed personally was some assurance that I hadn't died and I'd get back to the world I knew. I saw a real opportunity, not only to make scientific progress, but money.”

That was the Fred I knew. I also knew that he was very level-headed and I wasn't ready to disregard his views. In fact, I was becoming convinced.

“I explained to him what I was thinking and asked for the assurance. But, of course, he couldn't give it. Life and death were not decisions he made. 'We'll see what happens and work from there.' I have to admit that if I stayed dead it wouldn't have been a calamity. Everyone seemed happy where they were and I was sure I would be, too. The challenge, though, was tempting. It was an entrepreneur's heaven. Here was the chance to link this world with the afterlife and make money doing it. Everything was already in place, all it needed was someone imaginative enough to connect the dots. I can do that, but I'll need your help to make it work.”

As I mentioned earlier, a medical student at Presbyterian played a critical role – though it's hard to deny that he had Divine help. And that set in motion the plan that Fred had worked out.

The first steps were mine. I had to charter a bank. That took much more knowledge than my legal practice provided and I set out on a search for information, but it was available and it wasn't long before I knew the steps involved. It wasn't cheap though. Fortunately I had some “comfortably-0ff” friends who loved life and hated their kids. They were ready to take a chance on eternity while sticking it to their spawn. Fred chose the name “Bank of Heaven.” It set the right tone for the venture. He even opened his own account.

In a sense he was a real humanitarian. For him, at least as far as I could determine from what he told me, everyone was equal – rich and poor alike. And they were alike. Rich and poor were invited to open accounts under the following conditions: You had to deposit a certain percentage of your net worth in the bank and that was set arbitrarily at twenty percent, but you could deposit more if you chose. It didn't matter if that was in dollars, pesos, Euros, rupees, or whatever currency you used, and if you were broke the minimum amount was one dollar or its equivalent. And the money you deposited was not refundable under any circumstances while you were alive. In fact, it was given a status outside of your estate and continued as a separate entity in perpetuity. Undeposited money, of course, was part of your estate and went to your heirs.^ix

Withdrawals could come at either (or both) of two times – in Heaven so you could get new religious writings on the internet, or when the Messiah came and all earthly pleasures were available. You'd be sorely tempted in Heaven because of an overwhelming desire to learn and because it would speed your ascent to perfection. But whatever you withdrew during your time there would mean that much less to spend when you returned in the days of the Messiah – whenever that would come. As for the account size, it was either what you deposited or, for the poor, an unlimited amount in Heaven, and enough to live comfortably in Messianic times. Since that would last forever, those with ample accounts of their own – those who planned for their future – would seem to risk running out, while the poor would always live in comfort. But, as I said, they were alike. At least ultimately. And when someone's own money ran out he (or she) was on the same terms as the poor, perpetual comfort, but not profligacy.

So budgeting – for those who chose to establish accounts – was a balancing act. How much for the current stay on earth, how much for Heaven, and how much for the initial period of the Messianic times. It was comforting, however, to know that no matter what decisions you made, and no matter how poor you might be now, you would eventually live a comfortable life. Forever.

Anyway, I managed to charter the bank. It wasn't easy. The red tape and regulations were truly prodigious. I somehow suspect that there isn't nearly as much paperwork in Heaven, but I could be wrong. Money turned out to be less of a problem than I had feared. As I said, there were enough rich people who were willing to make the gamble. Of course those who provided the initial funding were promised the addition of their investments, with interest, to their accounts.

That was the next step. Getting people to set up accounts. But that was also easier than I expected. Those in the “middle class” were suspicious of the whole project and very few of them were willing to take the risk. But for the rich, the ones who didn't even know how much they had or how to use it, it was worth the risk. They wouldn't be greatly affected – if they were affected at all – by a twenty percent investment in an eternal future. (The fear of death proved to have much more power than any concerns they may have had about risk.) The poor could usually find a way to get a dollar, and the potential benefit was incalculable.

With each account we set up an internet account (a free one) which those without computers could access at the library. Fred arranged with Bernie for the issuance of OWWW addresses for all participants, and they'd be activated when account-holders died. He had made all the arrangements with his angel friend before he was resuscitated. He did it “just in case” he returned to life, and his work paid off.

And it seems to have paid off as well for some of the account holders. There are now over three million of them. The majority of the solicitation was through newspaper ads and Bernie's invasion of their computers. Most of the depositors are poor, but some of them are very wealthy. And after a few of them died and were in Heaven there were moderately large withdrawals from their accounts. I suspect they were getting books with modern insights.^x It's clear that they were benefiting from their advanced planning. And there's still plenty left for when they come back. Accounts of the poor, and of the living like me, of course, have not been affected. I'll have my chance. And I certainly have less anxiety about that day than I did a few years ago.

In the meantime, Fred's situation has also improved. He gets a small commission on the withdrawals. It's not a large amount,^xi but enough so that he can use the money both to pay off initial investors and cover ongoing expenses, including a small salary for his work, and he does well on it. He has an account himself – not, however, anything compared with some of the billionaires alive and dead who have participated. His account not only assures his future, but he uses it for demonstration to those considering the project.

And I'd be kidding you if I didn't let you know that I'm also going to get some income from the project. I didn't make anything on the chartering (in all honesty I didn't lose anything either) but I'll soon take Fred's position as manager of the enterprise – its CEO. There will be steady income from that and Fred has assured me that he'll review with me all of the detailed knowledge necessary to run the bank. He's beginning a new project soon in Dubai or Bhutan or some place like that,^xii and he'll have to take a leave of absence from the bank to devote his time to that. The longer the better as far as I'm concerned. The income I'm expecting will allow me to be comfortable, although I must admit that responsibility for so many billions is daunting. He'll certainly have to explain to me the mechanics of deposits, withdrawals, and fund management, but he assures me that it won't be a problem. And I'm a quick learner, if I do say so myself.

I should be able to live a good life. But the real reward will come when I die.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

ADDENDUM: Carl died a few days ago following a heart attack. Unlike Fred he could not be resuscitated. He has already removed most of the money from his account, so he must be adapting well to Heaven.

I         I won't identify him further for legal reasons and privacy, as well as the possibility that he'd like to do his own advertising.

 

ii       Actually he had no peers.

 

iii      Rich on his own. Not simply because his father had made a fortune with his own inventions and computer development ideas.

 

iv       In fact he had already picked out a house in the Bahamas.

 

v        Yes. That's what he said. You can't make this stuff up.

 

vi       Actually, they can't log into most sites other than the religious ones. Certainly not pornography and other social media.

 

vii      Remember how slowly time passes up there compared to what we experience. A human lifetime would seem endless in their terms.

 

viii     Fred and Bernie eventually worked out the protocols necessary to do this. Mostly Fred. His education was worth all that his father paid for it.

 

ix       And the money of non-participants similarly would go to heirs and to the government, and would not be available to those who were returned to life in Messianic times.

 

x         Obviously I don't know from personal experience, but I'll get the complete facts after I die.

 

xi       Though it's certainly more than adequate considering the billions that the deceased have withdrawn and that has been transferred to them.

 

xii     He said he'd send me his address as soon as he was settled.