He is taken somewhere – he thinks of course he is going to paradise – and he is left before a huge door. He tries to see where it ends but it doesn’t seem to end anywhere; it is so huge in all dimensions. Neither can he see the left side nor the right side, nor can he see above; and he feels so tiny that not even a small ant knocking on your door will feel so bad as he felt, because he was even smaller in comparison to the door. And knocking on that door – you can understand his misery.
He was fully aware…who is going to hear? If the door is so big, what about the palace? And what about the throne? And what about God the father? The bishop feels he has no hope, but there is nothing else to do so he goes on knocking. He can hear his own knocks, that’s all; and there is silence, no answer. The same thing his whole life he has been praying…. Now he becomes a little angry. His whole life he has been praying, but no answer….
“One can understand that everything will happen after death. Now death has happened, and I am faced with this closed door. There is not even anybody here I can inquire from to get any information. At least there must be an inquiry office. People must be coming here and knocking on this door.
“I can perfectly conceive that millions must have died – knocking on this door – died again, and died again”…because you cannot really die, you are eternal. So you will have to die again and knock, and die and knock…. He cannot believe how much time has passed and he has been knocking and knocking and knocking. He starts feeling that he is becoming again old and death is coming, and he is still knocking.
“Is this not a deception, what Jesus said: ‘You will be welcomed with bands and angels singing Alleluia’? No angels, no bands – but at least somebody should open the door and let me in.” At that time, a small window – I am saying it is small in comparison to the door; it was still so vast that he could not see its proportions – a small window opened. And now he had become accustomed to the size of “small” things there. A small head he could not see the whole face, just parts and pieces, but he could figure out that somebody was looking at him. And he felt really crushed, humiliated; he had never been insulted like that. But what to do?
The bishop says, “Are you God?”
The head says, “No” – and his voice is so loud that the bishop feels almost as if his ears are going to burst.
He says, “Can’t you say it a little softer? Just whisper; that will be enough for me to tolerate. Don’t speak, just whisper. If you are not God, then who are you?”
The head says, “I am only the guardsman. God I have never seen, because my duty is on the gate, and God lives far, far away – we have only heard through holy scriptures – in an immense palace. I don’t know the way. I don’t have the courage…and moreover my duty is here, I cannot go anywhere else. But who are you? – because I cannot see you.”
The man has such big eyes, how can he see such a small ant? And the bishop says, “I am Bishop So-and-So.”