St. Peter’s Naughty List

by | Oct 10, 2024 | Mission Blog

I’m not at liberty to tell you exactly how this information came into my hands, but I will say that not all ministering angels lack a sense of humor. For anonymity sake, I’ll call mine Stanley, for that is, in fact, his name.
I’ve long maintained that angels minister to mortals here on earth, not unlike the infamous Clarence, who helped poor George Bailey in my favorite movie, It’s a Wonderful Life. And, like Clarence, these angels have a personality. My angel Stanley also happens to have a wonderful sense of humor that I usually enjoy. At least until our last encounter. Let me explain.
This was one of those rare circumstances I’ve had with an angel, since I don’t imbibe or use drugs to create imaginary ones. No, Stanley was very real indeed. It happened just last week.
It has been long and discouraging missionary week, I am taking an evening walk along the shoreline of Rainy River nearby, which forms the international border between the United States and Canada.
At first I think Stanley might be an eagle sitting on a log as I approach. But as I get closer, what I thought was an eagle grows into the silhouette of a man. He’s wearing chest waders, a plaid flannel shirt, and a fish-hook-festooned floppy old hat. As I approach, I see light coming up from his waders and peeping through his shirt as if his skin is glowing. This is no ordinary fisherman.
“Well it’s about time,” Stanley says as my steps slow to a halt. “You’re late. I’ve been waiting forever for you to come by.”
“Sorry,” I say, trying to find my voice at the shock of communicating with a real angel. “Are you here for a purpose? Do you have a special message, or are you calling me home already? We have so much yet to do on our mission, and how will my wife deal with her loss?”
“Actually, I have something to show you,” Stanley says with a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He reaches into the bib pocket of his chest waders and pulls out a rather soggy lump of folded papers. His smile broadens as he says with a wink and a whisper, “From St. Peter’s manifest files.”
“You must be kidding,” says I. “Does St. Peter really guard the gate to Heaven? I thought that was only a myth.”
“Of course he does,” says Stanley. “After all, he’s still the chief Apostle. But that’s not what’s important. Take a look.” And with this, my visitor carefully unfolds the dripping lump of pages which instantly dry into a small booklet of perfectly smooth pages.
“Over the ages, St. Peter has recorded each interview with every soul that approached the Heavenly Gate,” Stanley says. “After all, very careful records are kept in Heaven, as you can imagine. It would be Hell not to.” And with that he laughs at his own joke.
“Okay, so what’s this?” I ask, pointing to the papers in his hand. “And incidentally, do you have permission to have it?”
“This is a list of the 100 lamest excuses for keeping souls out of heaven,” Stanley says with a grin. “And you won’t believe how hilarious this stuff is. I really shouldn’t have it, but when I saw it laying there on Peter’s podium while he was interviewing some soul, I just had to snag a copy to share with you.”
“You were thinking of me before you even came down here?” I ask.
“Hey, there are millions of angels who help you mortals all the time. We not only think of you, but sometimes, like now, we get to actually intervene to lend you a hand.”
“But why me, and why now?” I ask.
“Because you and your wife are having a pretty rough time of it right now. This is a tough place to serve and many good people have fallen asleep. We are aware of that, so I came to cheer you up.”
I nod, thinking of how many good people both in and out of the Church refuse to return or inquire about the Gospel of happiness.
“So I snagged this just for you,” Stanley repeats. “Here’s how it works.”
“When a person dies, their spirit either rises towards St. Peter’s Gate, or they descend toward Hades. If they were generally a good person, they can approach the Gate for a short interview with St. Peter himself. If they pass, they are ushered through the Gate to await the resurrection in peaceful joy. But if their answers are weak or even silly, they are banished to a lower, rather miserable place.”
“Just look at these pathetic excuses,” Stanley says. “I know judgement is not a joke, but these answers are real knee slappers!” He hands me the booklet and I look at the cover:

St. Peter's Naughty List

The World’s 100 Lamest Excuses that keep people from Heaven

1. I lost my keys

2. I slept in

3. I didn’t have a tie

4. I felt unworthy

5. I didn’t feel like going

6. It was opening weekend for the hunt

7. The fish were biting

8. I was sick of hypocrites

9. Someone said something mean behind my back

10. I felt judged

11. My socks didn’t match

12. I thought it would be boring

13. The high council guy was speaking

14. I had a headache

15. It was raining

16. I thought it might rain

17. It was too hot

18. My car wouldn’t start

19. It was too far

20. It was too nice to be indoors

21. I could get closer to God out in nature

22. Company came from out of town

23. Our children stopped attending and we wanted to be with them

24. I smoked

25. There was a war overseas

26. I didn’t have anything to wear

27. I had to mow my lawn

28. My socks didn’t match

29. The game was on

30. The game would soon be on

31. The game highlights were on

32. There was a storm brewing somewhere out west

33. There were reels to watch

34. I was following my followers

35. I saw a mouse

36. I had the sniffles

37. I hadn’t studied the Sunday school lesson

38. My friend was sad

39. My hair didn’t go right

40. I decided to go maybe next time

41. A church leader offended me

42. My neighbor offended me

43. I was too fat

44. It was the day before my new job

45. I got fired

46. I was born again and needed nothing more

47. I was afraid someone would ask me to pray

48. I hate crowds

49. I hate goodie-goodie people

50. I had a tattoo

51. I had to shovel snow

52. My goldfish died

53. I had to wash my hair

54. I had to water my plants

55. My cat had hemorrhoids

56. I didn’t know it was Sunday

57. I wanted to avoid that one woman who sings too loud

58. My phone died

59. There was a sale downtown

60. I had to vacuum my car

61. I couldn’t find the remote

62. Daylight savings time messed me up

63. I was just too tired

64. I pulled a muscle

65. There was no milk in the fridge

66. The pews were too hard

67. I hated to feel guilt

68. I didn’t like shaking hands

69. My horoscope said to avoid large crowds

70. My dog was lonely

71. I got hungry

72. I stayed home to read my Bible but fell asleep instead

73. I didn’t need someone telling me to repent

74. I repented but messed up again

75. The Church was too cold

76. I had to repaint my fence

77. The neighbor’s dog kept me awake all night

78. My shirt was wrinkled

79. I ran out of excuses, so I stayed home to think of one

80. I thought my friends wouldn’t be there

81. Because no one remembered my birthday

82. My lucky socks were in the laundry

83. I already knew all this stuff

84. Religion just got too hard for me

85. I lost track of time and then it was too late

86. I figured God loves everybody so no need for church

87. No one said hello last time I went

88. I had a nasty hangnail

89. I was up too late the night before

90. My gerbil and I had a fight

91. I had a nosebleed

92. I couldn’t find my scriptures

93. I had to prepare dinner for the family

94. I just needed a break, again

95. I was just there last Easter

96. I had a zit

97. I thought organized religion was so last year

98. There were too many whites in the congregation

99. There were too many blacks in the congregation

100. There wasn’t enough diversity in the congregation

As I finish reading the list, I’m very quiet. Tears flood my cheeks and blur my vision.
“Dude!” Stanley says. “I thought this would cheer your up, man. What’s the problem? These excuses are hilarious. Don’t you agree?”
I wipe my eyes on my sleeve and Stanley hands me a clean, dry handkerchief he pulls out of nowhere. I blow my dripping nose and sit silently in the darkness.
“I’ve heard so many of these excuses in one way or another over the past several years,” I explain. “And yes, there are times I have to laugh inside at how ludicrous they are. But the people just keep coming up with them week after week, year after year, as if they refuse to find peace and happiness. It’s the ultimate self-defeating behavior. They just want a good time and to be left alone. And it breaks my heart.”
Stanley sits quietly for a moment as I continue to weep and blow.
“I suppose it’s been too long since I was here as a mortal,” he says. “When I saw this list I thought it would cheer you up. But now I see it has done the opposite. Sorry, dude.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “At least I know we’re not alone in our disappointments. But when we have such a clear picture of what lies ahead for true disciples of Jesus Christ, we can’t help but sorrow for these admittedly ludicrous excuses. After all, lame excuses can keep a person from the Heaven they can have here on earth as well as the Great Beyond.”
“Maybe you ought to just tell ’em, man,” Stanley says. “If they won’t accept a gentle nudge, maybe you should whack ’em with pure truth.”
I dry my eyes and think about that for another minute or so as Stanley sits quietly in the dark.
After looking across the beautiful Rainy River, I turn toward Stanley and find instead a full size bald eagle sitting at the other end of the log. Seeing my movement, the bird bounds into the air and extends it’s massive wings, gliding over the smooth river into the darkness. Stanley has made his departure in true angel-like fashion.
“Nice touch,” says I. I stand and make my way along the shoreline and start up the boat ramp back to our apartment, thinking of Stanley’s last suggestion.
Back at the apartment, I place the booklet on our table and share my angelic encounter with my wife. We once more consider what we can do to help God’s work move forward.
__________
Three weeks after my visit with Stanley, my wife and I are sitting in the home of Becky Lou, another church member gone stale, who continues to delay any effort to return to activity. I’ve just extended another invitation for Becky to join us for church on Sunday.
“No one said hello to me last time…” Becky begins, and I instantly think of lame excuse number 87.
“ARE YOU CRAZY?” I shout. “You’ve got to be kidding us, right? I mean, you’ve come up with excuse after stinking lame excuse for the past three months, Becky. Is there no end to your denial?”
Becky Lou shuts her mouth in a solid line of shock as her green eyes blink in disbelief. So I continue.
“I’VE SEEN THE LIST, BECKY!” I’m shouting again. “I know all the lame excuses and I’ve heard some doozies from you! Do you realize what you’re missing by not coming back to church? Do you realize what will happen to you when you finally meet St. Peter at the Heavenly Gate? You can’t afford this! It is far too great a price for you to miss one more opportunity. THINK, WOMAN!”
My wife is looking at me in shocked mouth-agape disbelief and Becky Lou begins to cry. But for me, this feels really, really good. I’ve finally said what’s often on my mind without stepping lightly. The time for gentle nudges is over, at least for Becky Lou.
“But…” Becky attempts.
“No buts, Becky. We want you back and the Lord wants you back. The Church needs you and you need the Church. It’s time to stop playing games and rediscover the happiness and peace that is waiting for you. NO BUTS! So will you come Sunday morning no matter the weather, the time of day, what else is or is not happening in your life? Will you come?”
“Yes, I will,” Becky Lou says meekly. And for the first time I can see in her eyes that Becky Lou actually means it.
Hmmm, thinks I. Maybe I should start using this technique with all our friends who will not respond to a gentler approach. I look above Becky Lou’s fireplace mantle at a painting of a bald eagle in flight over Rainy River. And just for an instant, I swear I see the eagle wink.