Came across a rather different take on christianity heaven and hell in a forum thread at Internet Infidels. Eudaimonist's post reproduced wholly here.

Excerpt :
Your First Six Days in the Afterlife

The trip starts at your death. You feel yourself elevate to a place of darkness and clouds. Is this Hell? you wonder. But, no... you hear singing coming from the direction of a sparkling fortress-city at the edge of your sight. You float closer for a better view. Its massive walls are square in shape, and it sparkles ostentatiously as if encrusted with many gaudy gemstones. The city is lighted by a giant flickering lamb-shaped streetlamp. ["The city had no need of sun or moon, for the glory of God gave it light, and its lamp was the Lamb." -Revelations] That's rather tacky, you think, but who am I to question God's taste in decorations? It takes you a whole day to float to one of the gates. Now begins Day Two.

You are greeted at the gate by what must be a male angel, who wears flowing white robes and carries a flaming sword. He asks you: Have you sworn total obedience and servitude in your heart to Yeshua as your Lord and Savior? Who the flying f...flip is Yeshua? Oh! Right... that's the original name of Jesus. Whew! You almost thought you chose the wrong religion. You breathe a sigh of relief.

Yes, you respond, not wanting to blow this, I accepted Pascal's Wager. I figured that being a Christian would be my most pragmatic course of action. That didn't come out right. Why did I say that? But it was the truth.

Right you are. In you go. The angel steps to one side, nearly singing a feathery wing with the flaming sword.

Well, that was easy, you think, and you enter the city. You briefly recall your mother telling you: If it looks too good to be true, it probably is, but you shut the thought out of your mind. You wonder if your atheist relatives and friends are around, but you don't see them anywhere. Where is everyone, anyway? You follow the sounds of singing. This takes you a whole day. It is now Day Three.

You enter a giant courtyard in which thousands, maybe millions -- physics doesn't seem to apply here in the usual way -- of people are prostrate before an entity that seems to flow from one form to another. Sometimes the entity is an old man on a throne, sometimes a dove, or a lamb, or any number of things. Must be the Big Guy. Yeah, must be. A chorus sings His praises, and the rest bow and scrape before Him. You look for people you know, but you feel a strong compulsion to prostrate yourself and abase yourself before this mighty being.

Eventually you spot your sister, a believer, and you crawl over next to her. She died several years ago, so she must know what is going on here.

Hi, Sis. Is this Heaven? you mumble.

Yes, and that's a good thing. A very good thing. she whispers back, giving you an urgent and meaningful glance. Strange, she doesn't seem joyous. She seems to be warning me of something.

Who else is here? Any atheists we know?

She shakes her head. They are down there. She points down through the translucent gold floor. Far, far below is a flaming pit. A chill runs through your soul. You can't make out what is going on down there, but it doesn't look good.

The Chorus sings their joy that those who refused the servitude of God are now suffering by the lack of His presence. You try to be joyful too, but you are choked by a sorrow you can't contain. You try to hide this from He who sits on the throne. Thus begins Day Four.

You bow and scrape, and bow and scrape, and bow and scrape. You try singing praises under your breath to improve your spirits, but it doesn't cheer you up. You feel guilty that you aren't blissfully happy. You try to imagine an eternity of servitude... and you can't fit your mind around the thought. You don't want to anyway. Best not to think about it. Best to have faith, not thought. Thought is dangerous. I am nothing.

You attempt a few more quiet words with your sister. Is this all that happens in Heaven? We just serve and worship? I always imagined that we could do all the things we wanted to do when we were alive.

She glanced at me sharply to be quiet. Don't question this, she said very quietly. Do you want to end up down there? Free will still exists in Heaven. You can still end up in Hell.

Your eyes open wide with fear and you tremble.

We are here to Serve and Obey. Nothing more. God doesn't like selfishness. We are nothing, God is everything.

You gulp. This isn't what I bargained for when I accepted Pascal's Wager. Why ever did I do that? Why did God want pragmatic people like me anyway? Here begins Day Five.

You sneak peeks at God. Why does this being want such abject submission? Why all the praises? Why the songs of joy over the torments of the non-believers? Why is thought so dangerous here?

You bow and scrape and bow and scrape, and finally you cannot take it any longer. An eternity of this? Worshipping this monster?

You stand up and scream, No more! No more! This is wrong!

Your sister tries to quiet you and pull you back to the floor, but you resist. It's a good thing that you are here, she says. A very good thing! Please have mercy, oh Lord!

However, God is unmoved by any request for mercy for the rebellious. You feel yourself descend through the floor towards the flaming pit. Your sister sheds a tear, but quickly starts to sing songs of joy that you are now suffering in Hell...

Day Six. You are in Hell. Nearby you see Socrates having a spirited discussion with Ayn Rand. Gandhi strolls by, gives you a pleasant glance and a nod, and strikes up a discussion with one of the Buddhas. Several people dance nearby. You realize that these people never accepted Pascal's Wager, and never would.

My poor sister, you think. My poor sister. Will she ever join me?

[ February 18, 2002: Message edited by: Eudaimonia ]