Heaven Is A Deal by Michael Gerber

3: WHEN IN DOUBT, TAKE ’EM TO McDONALD’S

At 2:00 sharp, I was sitting in front of Griselda’s school, as excited as a guy on his first date. Meeting Jesus! And John the Baptist! Not to mention the apostles, and prophets, and everybody. What I wouldn’t have given to switch places with that lucky preschooler. What Griselda and I were going to do wasn’t a crime—it was really a once-in-a-lifetime learning experience. Not only would the kid’s parents not be mad, they’d probably thank us. Rich liberals spend hundreds of thousands of dollars to send their children to Harvard and Yale, but here we were going to give this child a chance to meet Jesus—the Son of God—for absolutely free! The question wasn’t, should we do this, but should we ask to be paid? I briefly considered it, then concluded that the proceeds from the book, movie, theme park, coffee mugs, et cetera would be more than enough.

It was all really for Jesus, anyway. We were just His servants, and if He saw fit to make us rich, all we could do was try to be worthy of it. What does the Bible say about wealth? “It’s easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter Heaven.” That’s why we were going to get a 4-year-old to do it for us.

At 2:08, Griselda’s head bobbed into view. Before the heavy metal door was even all the way open, a little boy with black curly hair came bursting out ahead of her, holding a green and yellow plastic dinosaur. I got out of the car and walked around to open the door for him.

“Hi!” he said.

“Hi,” I said, squatting down to be at his level. I didn’t know the child’s name, but remembered him from pre-preschool graduation. “My name is Anthony,” he said, reading my mind.

“My name is Mitchell,” I said, hefting him into the car seat. “I’m Mrs. Creepo’s husband.”

“Where are we going, Mr. Hubband?”

“Someplace fun, you’ll see.”

Griselda slipped into the passenger seat, her face flushed with excitement. I was excited, too—not for the first time, I wondered: what do atheists do for fun? “How did you spring him?” I asked as we pulled away.

“This morning during clay time, I made up a bunch of notes.” She pulled one out of her purse. “To whom it may concern,” it read. “I’ve been Raptured. See you in Heaven!”