I sat before the gates, waiting. I looked around me. Evidently one of the religions had it right. I was dead, but here I was, my mind alive.

Then He came up to me.

He was very, very tall, and stately, with long silver hair and a silver beard. He looked quite a bit like my father, only older and more dignified. "So you are here, my child," He said, with a voice like thunder.

I nodded. "Umif it's not too rude to askwho are you?" I asked.

"I am the God whom the Christians know."

I nodded. "Whathappens now?" I asked. If he really was God

"Now you make a choice," He told me.

"A choice?"

"Do you accept My son as your savior?"

I stared at him. I knew what the correct answer was. But I couldn't give it. "No. I can't."

I expected to find myself in Hell the next instant. I didn't. He merely stared at me, and asked, "Why?"

"Because I don't believe in scapegoats."

He was still looking at me. I had a feeling that he wanted me to keep talking. "What I did, I did," I said firmly. "Not Him. I'm not a child anymore, to have my parents pick up my messes for me. I am a sinner, and I know it. But I have to pay for it. Maybe your son loves me enough to die for me; but, if I'm to be worth anything, I have to be big enough that I can clean up after myself. So punish me for what I've done. Don't give me the option of unloading my sins onto someone else."

"You are a sinner," He said. "You have sinned against Me enough that you should by rights be damned for all eternity. I offer you a chance at salvation, though you don't deserve it. Why do you refuse Me?"

It was then that I got angry.

"I refuse your oh-so-merciful offer because you shouldn't have to make it in the first place! You made the rules, and You made us. I know You think that we are so far below You that all of us, even newborn babies, are so sinful that we deserve damnation. Perhaps You're right; but if we're so low, it's because You made us that way. You didn't have to; You made Your angels holy. Why couldn't You have done the same to us?"

"You would not truly be human if you were not sinful."

"Would that be so bad?" I asked. I turned away and stared at my feet for a minute. "It didn't have to be this way, did it?" I asked quietly. I turned back to Him and stared Him in the face.

"Who made the rules, God? Aren't You the Almighty? Are you not all-powerful?"


"I am."

"Well, then, You decide what sins merit eternal damnation. If You want to forgive us, and let us into Heaven, why didn't You just do it?" I raised my voice. "No. No. If You truly are that unfair-if You truly would damn us, for being what You made us, I can never serve You. If the punishment You have ordained for being born human is eternity in Hell-and You were willing to murder Your son so you could change your mind without having to admit that you were wrong, or that we aren't inherently sinful-then damn me to Hell, now, because I will not let Your son bring me into Heaven by propagating such a ridiculous system as that!"

"You do not understand," He said. "I offer you again-will you let My son bathe you of your sins, and enter into My kingdom?"

"No. I am what I am. If you accept me, accept me as a sinner. Don't try to make my life, sins and all, untrue."

"Adrienne, please accept," said a voice behind me.

I turned. There was no mistaking this newcomer, either.

"I died so that you would be forgiven," he said. "Please don't make that sacrifice be in vain."

"It shouldn't have been necessary," I said. "I may be an idealist, but it shouldn't have been necessary. You shouldn't have had to die so that He would forgive us for being what He made us. Jesus, don't ask this of me. Don't ask me to play the system. Don't ask me to serve a being who demands things like that."

He took my face between his hands. "I love you, Adrienne," he said.

I closed my eyes. "Send me away from here," I demanded.

There was a wind around me. I opened my eyes.