August 28, 2024

Am I Going to Hell?

This past Monday, I told a lie . . . and then embellished it. Before you render judgement, hear me out.

It all began last Friday when I returned home from a liquor store run thinking that I had purchased my semi-annual 3L bottle of Taylor Tawny Port. Yes, I sometimes like a small glass before dinner; it embodies, after all, a subtle array of flavors like caramel, peanut brittle, dried fruits (apricots, dates, raisins, prunes), nutmeg, chocolate and walnuts. However, hours later when I looked at my receipt, I noticed the words, “DRY SHERRY.” Sure enough, I had mistakenly taken the Taylor Dry Sherry from a large display of 3L Taylor aperitifs that had also included Taylor Tawny Port and Taylor Port. UGGHHH!!! I knew that I would never drink it.

So on Monday, receipt in hand, I drove back to the liquor store with the Taylor Dry Sherry to make an even exchange for the Taylor Tawny Port. However, after explaining what happened to the manager:

“Ma’am, you can’t return liquor.”

“But it’s not opened,” I replied, pointing to the top. “Here’s the receipt. It looked like all the other bottles in your sales display. I saw Tawny Port on top and just grabbed the bottle beneath it.”

“Yes, but in this state you can’t return liquor, even if it’s not opened,” said the manager.

What was I going to do with 3L of booze I would never drink? I was desperate . . . and creative.

“But it’s for communion,” I stammered. “Uh, er, this port is my church’s communion wine.” Yes. I. Said. It.

Jesus guarding the communion port.

The manager looked a bit stricken. “You need the Tawny for communion? I don’t want to upset folks in your church. They don’t drink sherry?”

I just kept going. “We have an older congregation and our members prefer sweeter communion wine. Besides, Jesus didn’t turn water into sherry, right?”

“Right,” said the manager as he left to exchange the bottles. We met at the cash register and made the exchange.

“Jesus must have been the life of the party,” he said.

“And the afterlife of the party,” I quipped while thinking, “Lying is the native tongue of the devil. You just destroyed your soul.”

So. I may be going to hell, but for what really? Of the following, which is the most grievous lie?

  1. That the Tawny Port was communion wine.
  2. That it was for my church.
  3. That I attend church.
  4. That Jesus was the afterlife of the party.
  5. That I actually like Taylor Tawny Port

Feel free to render judgement.

17 Comments

  • In my defense, here is the actual law in my County in Maryland regarding exchanging unopened liquor:

    “Product must be unopened and in new condition to be eligible for return or exchange. Original paper receipts dated within 30 days of purchase are required for the return of any item. It will be noted on the receipt what items were returned.”

  • Also in my defense, this Taylor Tawny Port wine is IN FACT used as communion wine 3 to 4 times a year when my pastor friend, Carol, and I celebrate the Eucharist over the phone. I know she reads this blog, and I hope our eucharistic tradition continues. That being stipulated, will all of our upcoming Eucharists “not count,” so to speak, because the wine has been tainted with the devil’s tongue?

  • One last thing in my defense: this post was inspired while I was working on an assignment from my writing coach: “For what purpose do I tell my story?”

    Seriously.

    In the past, it may be the case that the reason I wanted to tell my story was to explain in some way why my childhood wasn’t my fault; that I needed to assign blame. This purpose is exhausting. As you learned from the last post I published, “You Are A Light,” my writing coach and I determined that perhaps I ought to tap into my “source energies” of “light and love” as I live and breathe . . . and write. How would those energies influence the purpose for telling my story?

    Well, this post could reflect one outcome. And, hand on heart (and tentatively on the Bible), I was not under the influence of Tawny Port when I wrote it.

    • I knew Adrienne, as is her habit (somebody has to do it), would put me in my port place. HOWEVER, the following is from the actual Taylor wine website under, “When to Serve Port”:

      Port wine is very versatile and can be paired with many different kinds of food. It is most commonly served at the end of the meal with a selection of fine cheeses, dried fruits and walnuts. It can, however, be served chilled as a delicious aperitif such as Taylor Fladgate’s Chip Dry and Tonic.

      I am assuming that Taylor Fladgate is its premium port. Because I have the taste buds of an 8-year-old, I prefer Tawny Port before dinner with a selection of fine cheeses, walnuts and gummy bears.

  • No way are you going to hell (if there was one) because no way could God stand to be separated from you. She’s like the rest of us.

    • Good heavens, Neola, I didn’t expect that I would get teary-eyed reading comments to this post. Thank you for the affirmation, dear one. I love you and will immediately raise a glass of port to your indomitable spirit. xoxo

      • Oh, please! I do not see you at “the jumping-off point to hell”! I sigh with a smile (and think God is smiling too!), simply in acknowledging our differences and at the same time delighting in who you are and in the friendship we share!

        • Thank you for the clarification, Carol. Yes, we are very different in many respects, but that we continue to pray and share the Eucharist together says volumes about the power of love . . . and God!🙏❤️

  • #5 isn’t a lie, but may be the most grievous! Is this how it all started for the guy who swears he won the election in 2020? We KNOW where he is going.

  • Something is wrong with the clerk’s interpretation of the law–not your return. Seriously, hell because of a wine return!! I hope you wrote the post for laughs because I am laughing.

    • As always, I appreciate your support, Charlotte, and yes, I wrote it for laughs which may hold a clue to the influence of light and love energies. But I digress. I lied that the Tawny Port was for communion at my church. None of this is true. I prevaricated about something sacred. At the same time, if I had told the manager that I simply didn’t like dry sherry, I doubt he would have made the exchange. So, like a lazy Republican, I justified my actions vis a vis the Bible, the Church, my exaggerated piety. Seems like there’s some corner in hell for that. Or there should be. I don’t particularly want to find out. 🫤

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