Slack Slacker Awakens in Purgatory
Imagine this: Heavenly winged beings standing guard at the Gates of Purgatory against eternally damned souls destined for the lake of fire. When Slack resurrected himself after a night of hanging out with his dog Doobie and his evil twin brother Hack, he instinctively knew, once again, he’d been duped into engaging in another night of reckless behaviors. The empty shot glasses and smashed bottles of tequila strewn around his feet were a dead giveaway.
That was the last lucid memory Slack could rely on to validate a modicum of his sanity. He strained his mind to recall the previous coherent experiences of his life, but he was lost in some form of brain fog, which left him mentally drained. At best, through a cloud of pain-filled grogginess, Slack could only hear faint voices saying, I think he's gone, and another saying, "Yeah dude, he's flatlined."
It was then that the blur cleared, and standing beside him was a tall, angelic, winged being with soft, smiling eyes. Not knowing what to think or do, Slack wanted to ask, WTF was this place, and why was he here, but he wasn’t that stupid. Even Slack was smart enough to realize this wasn’t the place or time for using profanity. So, he settled for inquiring as to where Doobie and Hack were. The angelic guardian of the gate said, "Don’t worry about Doobie and Hack; they’re being dealt with elsewhere." This situation is all about you.
His "Wingman", as Slack decided to call the angelic being, went on to tell Slack he was in Purgatory, and he was there because his soul and heart weren't quite ready for heaven. Slack thought to himself, he was about to have an Oh Sh!t experience. So, what now? Slack asked. We'll start at the beginning, his wingman said.
Because Slack was showing early signs of being an unmotivated, perennial procrastinator, his parents were wise enough to enroll him in Catholic school for strict discipline and guidance. Without this level of intervention, they knew Slack was destined for a life of mediocrity at best or, worse, a troublesome carbon copy of his wayward twin brother Hack, a Machiavellian Maniac.
So, that’s the story: Slack spent much of his formative years in parochial school, of the Catholic persuasion. As the memories slowly flooded his senses, he was no longer clueless when he saw a cool-looking winged guy hovering above a mass of desperate souls, hopelessly begging for heaven's leniency. Although Slack was grateful to be inside Purgatory’s gate, he couldn’t help but be disappointed that he didn’t make it up the ladder to the Pearly Gates, where the cool people were chilling.
With the ability to read Slack’s simple, rarely challenged mind, the angelic winged being recommended Slack to Google Purgatory for answers to most of his questions regarding why he was where he was. So he did, and this is precisely what he found.
Google said: In Catholic theology, purgatory is a state of final purification of the soul after death before entering heaven. It's a temporary state where souls are cleansed of venial sins and any remaining attachments to the world. This purification is necessary because, according to Catholic belief, only those who are completely pure can enter God's presence in heaven.
But wait, there's more. Purgatory's primary purpose is to cleanse the soul of any remaining Imperfections and make it worthy to enter the joy of Heaven. Souls in purgatory are those who have died in God's grace and friendship but have not yet fully purified their sins. A purification process is not seen as a punishment like Hell, but rather an unnecessary step in the journey to complete holiness. It's often described as a refining fire that removes any remaining imperfection.
There is no definitive time frame for how long a soul remains in purgatory. The length of time depends on the individual's needs for purification. Theologians emphasize that Purgatory is a state of being rather than a physical location. It's a time of spiritual growth and transformation.
Catholics believe that prayers and sacrifices for the dead, including masses, can help shorten the time souls spend in purgatory.
Well, I’ll be damned, Slack thought aloud. I should’ve paid more attention in mass instead of napping in the back Pews. Be careful what you say and how you say it. We don’t want to extend your stay any longer than necessary, the angelic being said lovingly. He suggested that Slack take some time to reflect on his life and how he’d lived it to speed up the soul purification process. Slack said he’d get right to it, right after lunch. By the way, do goody goodies have KFC or Popeye’s here? No, Slack’s wingman said kindly. We prefer Chick-fil-A. They are smart enough to remain closed on Sundays. You understand, of course.
Slack started his journey down memory lane after munching on a chicken sandwich and some purified spring water from a crystal clear stream because there’s no tequila in Purgatory. And believe it not, Slack’s past began to reveal itself with remarkable clarity, not in a detailed play-by-play presentation, but just the highlights of his ungodly transgressions.
It all started in Mount Saint Michael’s Middle School when Slack began hiding his report cards and intentionally not reminding his parents of the parent-teacher meetings that were being scheduled. If you don’t read the books, you can’t complete the assignments, and if you don’t complete the assignments, you can’t do well on the exams, and if you can’t do well on the exams, you can’t let your parents know. Slack told himself he’d change his ways, but as a perennial procrastinator, he never got around to it. Slack continued this pattern of behavior throughout high school.
By some miracle or the grace of God, Slack was accepted to a four-year college in Midtown Manhattan. He had no intention of becoming a lawyer, a doctor, or an investment banker, as his parents had hoped. It was just an easy commute from where he lived, and he heard the curriculum wasn't that difficult. It's a slacker's dream!
Slack maintained a solid 2.0 GPA, which was good enough to try out for and remain on the basketball squad. Unfortunately, old habits die hard, as he was eventually dismissed from the team for consistently arriving late to practice and failing to contribute when he was there. They had two losing seasons because that’s how Slack rolled. So, as long as the hotties in class liked him, Slack never cared if the team won or lost.
Eventually graduating by the skin of his teeth, Slack’s outlook on life morphed into a lifestyle. A lifestyle that others emulated in the workplace, much to the chagrin of supervisors, managers, and HR departments everywhere, he'd found employment. Slack reasoned that work was a four-letter word, and hard work was two four-letter words never to be uttered together. In Slack’s worldview, the very idea of engaging in hard work was an act of blasphemy.
But wait, there’s more. Slack became a leader when others saw his goldbricking, freeloading, c’est la vie attitude being tolerated. With all his glaring faults, Slack was a charming gaslighting manipulator. Slack used God’s gifts of gab and the ability to tell tall tales on the fly, laced with humor and a straight face, most would give him the benefit of the doubt simply because he was harmless, if you didn’t realize everyone was picking up the slack for Slack’s slacking.
But as Slack continued his journey down memory lane to purify his soul, he began to remember reading about the seven deadly sins, which originated in the 4th century CE with Evagrius Ponticus, a Greek Christian monk. They were lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, and pride. And there it was: Slack had an epiphany. Sloth was Slack’s failing in life, and a failing heaven could not forgive.
It had to be, Sloth Slack concluded. He’d never violated any of the others. He couldn’t recall violating any of the Ten Commandments either. Well, not really, he thought. Where the Hell is the wingman? Slack was frantic. I'm going to let him know my soul is going to be purified. I promise never to slack again, Slack said to his wingman’s assistant. I should be all good now, right? Slack asked. And just then, Slack’s wingman appeared.
Slack, while it's true you’ve come to terms with and admitted your significant shortcomings, Higher Powers require proof of your repentance. Okay, Slack says, I’m all in. What’s the next step? The head wingman told Slack he must return to Earth, get a job, and work hard for ten years before he could be reevaluated for entry into the Pearly Gates. Well, I’ll be damned Slack said!
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