Death and Taxes

As a fully declared atheist, I don’t subscribe to the idea of absolutes. I don’t claim perfect knowledge or final certainty about much of anything. The universe is too large, too strange, and too indifferent for that kind of confidence.

Someone might say, “Well, you absolutely know the sun will rise tomorrow.”
And yes—practically speaking—that’s true. But even that certainty comes with an asterisk. Given the scale of the universe, rogue comets, gravitational shifts, or events we can’t even imagine, it’s not technically absolute. The odds are overwhelming—but absolutes are another matter.

That said, there are two things that loom over every human life everywhere.

Death and taxes.

This essay isn’t about taxes. We all know how that works, and for now they’re unavoidable—at least until some future utopian society emerges where humans don’t work, everything is automated, and governments are run by benevolent AI. I suppose it’s possible taxes won’t always be an absolute. Future notwithstanding.

Death, on the other hand, is unavoidable. Until science figures out how to stop aging—or something better than us takes over—we’re all going to die. Accidents happen. Illness happens. We just get old. The list is endless.

And as unsettling as death is on its own, religion tends to amplify the anxiety by insisting it’s not the end—but a gateway to judgment, reward, or punishment.

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The Worldview I Grew Up With

When I was growing up—and well into adulthood—I had a deeply warped relationship with life and death. That wasn’t accidental. It was taught.

The Worldwide Church of God (WCG) leaned heavily into what many scholars now recognize as an early Christian view of death and resurrection. Central to this belief was the idea of three future resurrections, tied to Jesus’ return and the establishment of the Kingdom of God.

Unlike mainstream Christianity, WCG rejected the idea of an immortal soul. Consciousness ended at death. The “self”—memory, identity, essence—was said to be preserved by God in some unknown state. Sometimes it was described as “sleep.” Sometimes as storage. Sometimes as being held in a spiritual vessel. The details were fuzzy and debated endlessly at Ambassador College.

What mattered was this: no one went to heaven or hell at death.
Death wasn’t a transition—it was a pause.

The dead were not judged immediately. Judgment came later, tied to resurrection.

Yes, there’s an obvious catch-22 there—how do you qualify for a resurrection without already being judged? But that tension was usually brushed aside with “God will work it out.”

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The Three Resurrections (According to WCG)

So where did this framework come from?

1. The First Resurrection

(Revelation 20:4–6; 1 Thessalonians 4:16–17)

At Jesus’ second coming, the faithful—both living and dead—would be resurrected or transformed. This included figures from the Old and New Testaments: Abraham, Moses, David, Paul, and all who had lived and died “in the truth.”

These resurrected believers would help establish and rule the Kingdom of God on Earth for a thousand years.

Cue the soundtrack.

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2. The Second Resurrection

(Revelation 20:11–12; Ezekiel 37:1–14)

After the millennium, God would resurrect everyone who had never truly known the truth. These people would be given their first genuine opportunity to understand God’s way of life—without Satan, deception, or chaos.

This resurrection was framed as merciful, fair, and corrective.

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3. The Third Resurrection

(Revelation 20:13–15; Malachi 4:1)

Finally, those who knowingly rejected God—after full knowledge—would be resurrected for final judgment. Those who still refused would be destroyed in the “lake of fire.”

Not tortured forever.
Just… gone.

I always wondered—does that mean memories of them disappear too? Photos? Stories? Love?
I digress.

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Why This Wasn’t Just Theology

In the WCG worldview, death wasn’t the end—but neither was it meaningful in the present. Everything was deferred.

And that had a cost.

The Psychological Fallout
• Life was temporary. What mattered now was only important insofar as it qualified you for a resurrection.
• This world was disposable. Environmental damage, suffering, injustice—temporary problems in a temporary system.
• The “real” life came later. Just obey, endure, and wait.
• Value was deferred, not lived.

As a result, I didn’t fully invest in this life. Why would I? This wasn’t the point. This was a holding pattern.

Get by.
Don’t plan too far ahead.
Just make it to the resurrection—preferably the first one.

There was an unspoken corollary, too—one almost no one admitted out loud:

If this life doesn’t really matter, then neither do the lives of those who won’t be in the first resurrection. If someone dies prematurely, well… at least they’ll get another chance later.

That’s a disturbing conclusion—but it was there. And I know I wasn’t alone in thinking it.

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Early Christianity and the Shift

The Worldwide Church of God didn’t invent this model. It preserved one.

Early Christians—including Paul—fully expected Jesus to return within their lifetime. Resurrection and judgment were imminent. Death was temporary because the end was near.

But Jesus didn’t return.

So theology adapted.

As generations passed and believers continued to die, Christianity began to rethink death—not from scripture alone, but from necessity. Over time, several new frameworks emerged.

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Four Common Christian Views That Followed
1. Immediate Heaven or Hell
The dominant modern view. Souls are judged at death. Strong fear/reward system. Culturally powerful. Scripturally thin.
2. Soul Sleep / Unconscious Waiting
Similar to WCG, minus multiple resurrections. Still held by some groups today.
3. Bodily Resurrection at the End
Closest to early Christianity. Judgment delayed until a future resurrection. Often minimized in modern preaching.
4. Eternal Torment vs. Annihilation
Hell fractures into competing doctrines: endless punishment or complete extinction. Still unresolved.

What do all these versions have in common?

They’re speculative.
They rely on interpretation.
They require assumptions.
And they dramatically shape how believers value life now.

In other words—messy.

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Coming Full Circle

As an atheist, I no longer believe there’s anything waiting for me after death.

This is it.

And strangely enough, that realization didn’t make life darker—it made it sharper.

Once I let go of certainty about what comes next, this life stopped being a waiting room and started being the point.

Death is unavoidable.
Taxes probably are too.

Everything else is interpretation.

And for the first time, that made life feel worth fully living.

(Image work)
Alt Txt: A simple gravestone marked “RIP” with a tax form, pen, and glasses lying on the ground in front of it.
Caption: Death and taxes—the only guarantees, stripped of theology and fear.
Description: A weathered gravestone engraved with “RIP” stands in a quiet cemetery, with a tax form, pen, and glasses resting on the ground below. The image symbolizes the inevitability of death and taxes, reinforcing the essay’s exploration of certainty, mortality, and the fear-based beliefs surrounding the afterlife.