Who will judge us, and by what measure?
We closed our eyes upon the living world and awoke to find ourselves standing in the presence of a powerful being, being both jackal and man. We do not fear him, but rather the great set of scales besides which he stands.
In one hand he carries a single feather, plucked from the wings of the goddess of truth.
He places that feather upon the scales, and then reaches out toward us, into us, and though we are not harmed, we see that he carries our heart in his easy grip.
This two he places upon the scales.
A heart weighed down with a lifetime of regrets, and a feather infused with the weight of justice.
The scales tip, one way or the other, and we are judged.
The taste of the coin lingers as the small boat finally comes to ground.
We step eagerly over the shallow rail and onto solid earth, with only a brief glance backward to see that the cloaked ferrymen is rowing away again, into the gloom from whence we came.
There are three paths before us, and three kings, sons of the sky father, the keeper of oaths.
In life, their judgements were fair and true.
In death they will not fail us.
Our story is all told, we need only an ending befitting our tale.
Was our life one of goodness, or evil, or were our deeds unremarkable, our life wasted?
The story goes on, and we are judged.
Our ticket to eternal reward has been purchased in blood.
And now, after a long sleep, we shall rise and collect our due.
All around us they gather, the people we knew and loved and feared and hated.
But we have no eyes for them, nor they for us.
Our attention is arrested by the light which drew us from the grave, a light that touches every part of us, that burns away the shadows so that we are revealed completely to him.
Did we store our treasures in the old world, or in the new?
Eternity yawns before us, and we are judged.
Always we have been judged.
We crave it and we fear it like no other thing.
For as long as we have walked upon this earth, we have given ourselves to the gods for judgement. The names change as we move from tribe to tribe, as do the specific details, but in the end we imagine ourselves laid bare in the eyes of those who will rule, finally, upon the content of our lives.
I have wondered, sometimes, if the gods and the ancestors volunteered for this duty, or if we somehow pressed them into service?
Just lately, I have wondered if their long obligation might be coming to an end.
We have found a new God of Judgement, it seems, better than those we have previously known, more responsive and immediate in both its praise and especially in its condemnation. This new god does not wait until we are dead to pronounce judgement upon us. It watches us with a billion eyes and when we are found wanting, the punishments of this new god are immediate and scathing. No more waiting around for the privacy of the grave, no more scriptures or doctrines to follow and uphold.
Have you guessed it?
We did this.
We reached out and opened the eyes and ears of the world. We gathered them all together in one place, where they could speak in one voice. And before the echoes of our celebration had died away, this shambling titan began to reach out in complete and utter condemnation of everything within reach of its great and dissonant voice.
For once, we’ve given the atheists what they wanted. We’ve swept aside the old gods and shown that we can do things far more efficiently by ourselves. And what a job we’ve done!
But I think I was more comfortable when Anubis was weighing our hearts against the Feather of Ma’at, than I was a few weeks ago, watching a young woman torn apart on Twitter because she didn’t put her hand over her heart when the national anthem played.
I don’t care for this new god. It is hungry and arbitrary in a way that makes the most capricious of the old gods seem tame by comparison.
It is not a god we can fight. There are no temples to burn or idols to smash.
If we would not give ourselves fully to this new god, we must then seek to starve it, to deny it our attentions and concern. We must live our lives freely, without casting arbitrary judgement on others and playing our brief parts for an audience of none.