I have not done the work required to justify this story, and I have no way of knowing for sure what heaven is like, but the Bible verse at the end makes me think there might be some truth in it.
A rich man died.
After a long walk through the valley of the shadow of death, he found himself at the gates of heaven.
He was surprised to find at the gates not Saint Peter or Jesus or an old man with a beard, but the Black woman who used to be the gatekeeper at the parking garage he had parked in every day for the past twenty years. She didn’t look tired anymore.
“Who vouches for you?” she asked.
“Jesus?” He had been in church almost every Sunday of his life, and he had donated a large sum of money to the building project a few years ago, so he figured Jesus would recognize him.
“Jesus is busy,” she said. He thought about asking if maybe she could get Jesus on the phone, but she didn’t seem to be in the mood. “Got anybody else?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Who’s here?”
“Lots of people.”
He thought for a moment.
“You knew me, right?”
“I recognize your face, but I can’t say I know you.”
“Well,” he said, “maybe I’ll just wait for Jesus to not be busy.”
“Up to you,” she said. “I hear there’s a war down on earth and he’s awful busy.”
So he sat down on the bench beside the gate.
All day long, Jesus never came. A whole bunch of other people came by, though. People who had been hurt by war and famine and disease were ushered right in. A few others were told to wait until somebody could vouch for them. It seemed that the lower one’s station in life, the quicker one got in.
One day, the ragamuffin who had begged on the street corner approached the attendant. She checked her clipboard and let him in. “Your place is waiting.”
“Wait a minute!” said the rich man. “I know the person you just let in.”
“Hold on, kid,” she said. “Can you vouch for this guy?”
The ragamuffin looked him up and down. “I think I saw him once in a suit maybe, but he never gave me anything.” The rich man was not allowed in.
More time passed.
A few weeks later, an old homeless man walked up to the gates. The attendant recognized checked her clipboard. “Jacob. Welcome home. Your place is waiting.” But the homeless man just stood there looking at the rich man, who by now had begun to despair of ever getting in.
“Is something wrong?” asked the attendant.
“I know this guy!” said the homeless man. “He used to be my friend before I dropped out of college. One time he paid to get my car fixed when I just didn’t have the money.”
“Are you vouching for him?” she asked. “That means he lives with you.”
“Of course,” said the homeless man. “If he don’t deserve to get in, nobody does.”
The woman swung the gate open wide and they walked in together.
And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes.
-Luke 16:9, NRSV.