During my days without faith when caught in the grip of sin I used to say, "God curse me, let me burn in hell." As an agnostic living in the slipstream of a contemporary reinterpretation of heaven and hell such a remark was so easily said. It was as if to say two things: I cannot help my sinfulness and hell could not be all that bad really. Indeed, many Christians today no longer think of hell in the traditional terms of centuries past. There is ample evidence of this in Christian literature: we find that hell is often described merely as a feeling of alienation from God. As a result, the whole notion of judgement appears somewhat sketchy: "I could never myself believe in God, if it were not for the Cross," said a prominent Anglican evangelist some years back. Only a God who had suffered as mankind suffers, the argument goes, could have any right to judge them.

For Muslims, belief in the Day of Judgement, Paradise and Hell is a crucial aspect of life. Each of these elements is very real. In the Islamic worldview, the life we are living now is preparation for the Day of Judgement. It is only necessary to consider the suffering which many have endured to see that Muslims do not share the unorthodox reservations of some Christians. One of the first individuals to embrace Islam during the life of Muhammad was an Abyssinian slave named Bilal. In order to demonstrate his opposition to Islam the chief of one of the Meccan clans would take him into the desert each day where he would beat him severely and torture him, repeatedly demanding that he renounce Islam and declare that he believed in the handcrafted idols. Bilal, however, would only repeat that God is One. Later in the early years of Islam, the Meccan tribes placed a boycott on the Muslims, forcing them into starvation. The Muslims, however, continued to affirm that God is One, believing that they would face the Day of Recompense. In fact, Muslims believe that striving through affliction is a means of expiating sins.

Today I would not dream of uttering those words which once so easily slipped from my tongue. When despairing at my sinful soul, today I can only plead, "O my Lord, forgive me, turn me from my sins and save me from the Fire." The Day of Judgement is something to truly fear, for every deed we put forth in this life will be recalled. Although Protestants differ on this, Roman Catholics believe that faith in Jesus must be accompanied by works. Presumably one who believes that faith in Jesus alone leads to salvation does not need to think very much about the Hour. It is, however, very much in the mind of the practising Muslim.

When preparing for a journey we always spend some time thinking about what we should take with us: this is the likeness of the Muslim preparing for the Day of Judgement. He or she is not thinking much about this life, for it is only a temporary realm. "Be in this world as a stranger or a traveller," the Prophet told one of his companions. God granted mankind this life in order that we might prepare for our return to Him.

It was in despair at my propensity to slip that I used to utter those hideous words, but I was not alone. Others philosophise about the hereafter: some demand a suffering judge, some want a hell wherein man experiences only alienation from God. A Christian colleague at work, arguing with a passionate atheist who insisted on deriding the beliefs of religious folk as the legends of peoples past, recently defended her belief in Heaven courageously; but, she said, she was not sure that she believed in Hell. Nowadays, Christians often afford themselves the luxury of believing whatever they like so long as it is not a "salvation issue". Muslims however believe that there is a reality, one which is defined by God. They believe in the Day of Judgement, in Paradise and Hell, and the sincere act with this is mind.