Most people are unfavorably surprised to find that in the afterlife, God and his entire celestial bureaucracy speak only Latin, which greatly adds to the general confusion of waking up dead. On Earth, the assumption has always been that God would have mitigated the language problem, or would at least have better technology to deal with it. Even more frustrating, celestial bureaucracy is no more friendly or helpful than Earthly bureaucracy; speak Latin or step out of the line.
Under such unexpected circumstances, the newly dead often slip into denial and bitterness simultaneously. With so many Earth people claiming to speak with God, why did not one of them mention this essential language requirement? Not once, not ever. Most wonder now why they never cultivated friends who spoke Latin, and why even in Earth academic circles, Latin was considered a dead language. The irony of this point is not lost on most newly dead people, but in their denial and bitterness phase, they find irony unbecoming in a God. There is a growing realization that unless they understand Latin, they cannot clearly decipher where exactly they have ended up in the afterlife.
When denial and bitterness have played out, most people advance to phase II; take action. Though widely spread out, there is a huge crowd of people milling about, and the idea arises that one could find others who speak a familiar language and possibly also speak Latin, or know someone who does. With a mixture of enthusiasm and panic, people rush about connecting and questioning complete strangers. Everyone will eventually find others who speak their language, but will not find anyone who speaks Latin. Consequently, misinformation is freely traded exactly as it was on Earth. Predictably, some will be dismissive of other beings who do not speak their own language; others will develop a deep empathy for all fellow beings who are sharing this unsettling experience.
Under such unexpected circumstances, the newly dead often slip into denial and bitterness simultaneously. With so many Earth people claiming to speak with God, why did not one of them mention this essential language requirement? Not once, not ever. Most wonder now why they never cultivated friends who spoke Latin, and why even in Earth academic circles, Latin was considered a dead language. The irony of this point is not lost on most newly dead people, but in their denial and bitterness phase, they find irony unbecoming in a God. There is a growing realization that unless they understand Latin, they cannot clearly decipher where exactly they have ended up in the afterlife.
When denial and bitterness have played out, most people advance to phase II; take action. Though widely spread out, there is a huge crowd of people milling about, and the idea arises that one could find others who speak a familiar language and possibly also speak Latin, or know someone who does. With a mixture of enthusiasm and panic, people rush about connecting and questioning complete strangers. Everyone will eventually find others who speak their language, but will not find anyone who speaks Latin. Consequently, misinformation is freely traded exactly as it was on Earth. Predictably, some will be dismissive of other beings who do not speak their own language; others will develop a deep empathy for all fellow beings who are sharing this unsettling experience.
The action phase will also play out, and instead, people talk less and begin to pay closer attention to their surroundings. They notice that Latin grammar books, complete with multilingual glossaries, are lying conspicuously about in the vastness of the afterlife. The action phase gives way to resignation; everyone will have to learn Latin or be left behind. Predictably, some people focus on the unfairness of it all, refuse to learn anything, and thereby become totally isolated.
Those who do choose to learn Latin discover that long time afterlife residents are intermixed with newcomers in the huge milling crowd, and that long time residents, of course, do speak Latin and could have acted as translators. The entire exercise was designed as an ice-breaker for the newly dead; the long time residents do not wish to spoil the game. In this spirit, fluent speakers of Latin enter the afterlife through a separate expedited checkpoint, though it was generally acknowledged by long time residents that in any case, fluent speakers are disinclined to assist the non-Latin speaking rabble. Fluent speakers of Latin are, after all, on a career path into the celestial bureaucracy.
My personal riff on a book by David Eagleman, Sum: Forty Tales from the Afterlives.
Cum mortuis in lingua mortua <with the dead in a dead language>
