My first job had nothing to do with fast food or newspapers. It involved dressing up like a werewolf. It was not a paid job, but I had many responsibilities. I was hired to yell, growl, moan, and snarl. Tall teens were especially desirable for my particular job. I was a live “prop” inside a haunted house. Well, to my knowledge, it was not actually haunted. It was an old vacant house transformed every year into a spooky haunt. Customers would pay hard-earned money to navigate their way through it. The proceeds went to charity. So I worked to scare people for a nonprofit endeavor.
The 30 of us who worked in this haunted house would put on our makeup during the one hour prior to “show time.” In my case, teased hair (I had a lot of locks in 1975), gallons of hairspray, base coat facial cream, and cool glow-in-the-dark fangs were the on the menu. Just before the doors were opened to let people into the eerie mansion, we would scatter and hide throughout the house. I was tasked with knowing every nook and cranny of the place so that I could roam anywhere I wanted and pounce on unwitting prey.
To me, scaring the wits out of people is one of the simple pleasures in life, which is why I did not care about making any money from that job. I enjoyed volunteering my time to startle grown men and women. Jolting juveniles was also addicting. I am not sure why it is so fun, but I still enjoy scaring my kids today.
Speaking of the reflex action of fear, some of the people visiting the haunted house were so frightened that they would just fall down on the floor with the rapidity of a tire iron sinking to the bottom of a swimming pool. But not all the petrified patrons were so entertaining. Some spit on my face, and others tried to sock my cosmetic-laden face with a right jab. A couple of those fists ended up connecting.
Many such haunted houses boast of the fact that all who enter will have nightmares after they exit. In some cases I have seen these houses promoted as “Hell Houses.” But I have never liked seeing Halloween haunts associated with hell, which is real. No matter how frightening a spooky house might be, it is still a joy ride compared to the real and eternal horrors hell. Words cannot express the gulf of difference there is between the two.
Why This Chapter?
Interestingly, more unbelievers acknowledge an actual hell than they concede Jesus as the only Savior. What explains such prevalent belief in an eternal judgment? It is because the justice of God is imprinted on every human heart on account of the fact men and women are image bearers of God Himself? Every person born has an internal desire for wrongs to be made right. No one enjoys seeing a murderer walk free without paying his or her debt to society. But here is the rub: The unbeliever’s notion of hell is nothing like the biblical definition of eternal punishment. The unbeliever’s version of hell is more akin to a Halloween house. If you read any survey, from Barna to Gallup, about Americans’ belief in hell, you will notice that a majority of them believe in hell. But that number of “believers” would turn into a miniscule minority if the people polled actually understood what the Bible teaches about hell. . .
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