Who turns out to have just as much clout as his father. In fact, there�s yet another member of the gang and his name is the Holy Spirit. Three of �em! And it seems they all have their respective jobs. Roughly, these are:
The Father: Creator of all
The Son: Savior of all
The HS: Administering the antics of the other two
Next, if you haven�t yet been terrified away, in order to be saved you must be baptized. No matter if you�re the most devout and moral of servants, if you haven�t been dunked or sprinkled then you�re outta� luck. Again, you must choose to do this. If you�re not long out of the womb and can�t make conscious choices, then someone must do it for you. If this doesn�t happen, then you can�t be saved. While it�s hard to imagine an infant capable of committing any sin, much less one horrendous enough to piss of the The Creator of All, just the same if his young flesh is not baptized he goes the way of the Charles Mansons and Richard Specks. The ironies are layered upon each other.
Finally, we should join a congregation of like-minded souls. While we can still be saved without this last step and therefore vetted to go to heaven, it is considered common practice to worship with others. Since this doesn�t have as much import as the first two in terms of our immortal souls, then I�m not gonna give it rift here.
The reason we must do these things to be saved is because of something called sin. Best I can figure it, this consists mostly of unacceptable acts against our fellow humans, against the aforementioned deity, or against ourselves. Now is not the time to parse out each of these areas of transgression. Maybe another time. Suffice it to say that Imminences are not about to tolerate any kind of sin, so we must pass through the filter of the Son in order to be acceptable. Nowadays, this is really nothing more than asking him to visit you and accepting his rules. That�s it, and you�re done!
Sorry, that�s as close as my meager understanding let�s me get to this mystery.
To sum up heaven, then, it�s a place run by a deity who pats his immense foot and waits for you to screw up but who is rendered impotent to punish you if you are hiding behind his son which got you there in the first place, all while you�re flapping around lugging a harp and singing hosannas wondering when your luck is gonna run out.