Imagine that the problem of evil were solved ala DS9's episode Move Along Home. Imagine that the universe, in all its horror and despair, ends. You die. But then you realize you're in a movie theater of cosmic proportions, and you and everyone you love is watching the movie with you. The narrative experience ended, you feel thoroughly traumatized. The movie was not only in bad taste, but unnecessarily heartbreaking and violent.
But then you have the comforting thought that at least you're here and not in that movie. The movie's over, and upon leaving the theater, you have a perfect life waiting for you:
A beautiful home with people who love you, friends and family, a luxurious standard of living, the peace of never having to worry about things like wondering whether or not you'll be able to pay for both this month's rent and the medicine. The burden of debt and the cry of the poor are no more, for there is no debt and there are no poor. You remember that the earth is alive and well, all animals are respected, and that there is plenty for all to flourish in peace. Everyone is free to love whoever they like without fear of judgement. All human religions are reconciled and worship together, and those who abstain from worship are in no way less reconciled or less beloved than their worshipping neighbors. Education is free and everyone is hard at work on whatever projects most inspire their deepest passions, now satisfied in labor. All the unpleasant work that no one enjoys is automated and there is no class division. The laws of Physis and Nomos are adopted, and all the while humanity is exploring the stars and maturing into a cosmic presence.
Your life was never in danger, no matter how real that awful movie felt, or how long it took to end. Your life is waiting for you, unaffected by the dark emotions stirred in you. There needs to be a conversation about why such a movie should never have been made, but for the moment, the sheer beauty of the universe embraces you, driving away the pain and beckoning you to experience a life better than anything you could have ever hoped for.
These same circumstances apply to each and every man, woman (or any in between) and child. Everyone gets the same deal. You don't simply believe that this is true, but you feel it. Where there was once the weight of anxiety over whether or not everything could ever be ok, there is now peace. No one will ever have to bear that weight again.
Heaven? A mass hallucination? The space beyond Nirvana? Who knows, though the wise all agree that the names we attribute to it are not important. What is important is that nothing we experienced at the movie theater can ever diminish this life we share.
The opportunity finally presents itself and you take it. The conversation comes at long last, and you ask the question you've wanted to ask: Why? Why did you make me watch this movie? What could ever justify its content? Why did we get shown this? (as an aside, that awful experience could just as well have been a video game, a play, a virtual reality simulation; pick whatever metaphor you like to stand in for "movie"). You ask, why did you make me suffer through that experience?
And then the answer comes in the form of a memory. There is no justifying the suffering you endured, but you recall that at all times during the viewing, someone was there with you. You were never alone. There was always someone nearby, and there was always a voice quietly whispering "It's going to be alright." Then you remember the fact that nothing can escape the compassionate embrace of a universe in which we all belong.
