Irenic Thoughts

Irenic. The word means peaceful. This web log (or blog) exists to create an ongoing, and hopefully peaceful, series of comments on the life of King of Peace Episcopal Church. This is not a closed community. You are highly encouraged to comment on any post or to send your own posts.


You can take it with you

Once there was an old rich man who was afraid of dying and leaving all his wealth behind on earth. So, he took up the matter with God. He pleaded day and night to be able to take all his earthly possessions with him.

Finally, God conceded. He said the man could take as much as he could fit in one suitcase. The old man immediately went out, bought a huge suitcase, sold all he owned and filled the suitcase with gold bars.

Shortly after that, the old man died. Awkwardly dragging the big, heavy suitcase, he approached St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. St. Peter stopped him, asked him to open his luggage, and then told him he couldn't bring his gold bars into Heaven. The man was irate. "You don't understand," he said. "I got permission directly from God himself for this. He told me whatever I could fit into one suitcase, I could bring with me."

St. Peter, shrugged his shoulders and simply said, "Fine with me. But we've already got plenty of pavement here."



  • At 5/26/2009 8:30 AM, Anonymous kenny said…

    Now I'll be humming "City of Gold" all day. :) I'm sure Debbie knows it and can get the choir working on it.

  • At 5/26/2009 9:12 PM, Blogger Peter Carey said…


    ...I will be using this story (with attribution) in a sermon I am a terrible packrat...



  • At 5/27/2009 7:31 AM, Blogger anything but typical said…

    Kenny would be right. Here are the words

    VERSE 1
    There's a city that looks over the valley of death
    And it's glory has never been told
    Where the lamb is the light in the midst of the night
    In that beautiful city of gold

    Where the sun never sets
    And the leaves never fade
    And the righteous forever will shine like the stars
    In that beautiful city of gold

    VERSE 2
    There will be no more sorrow, pain, sickness, or death
    And the saints, they will never grow old
    How I long for that city where there never comes a night
    In that beautiful city of gold


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