A Jewish butcher died one day of a heart attack. He knew this day would come, although he felt he lived out his life to the fullest. Even though he ensured other beings did not live their lives to the fullest, it did not bother him, for he was acting in the name of G-d. Helping the animal fulfill its purpose, or so that is what his belief took away from the Torah.
He arrived at Heaven’s Gates and was about to enter when he found he was frozen in place. He looked around frantically and saw others, on the ground who seemed frozen in time, their eyes longing to enter Heaven. He tried to move, but nothing would let him.
“Lord, Lord, benevolent G-d, Who is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abundant in loving kindness and truth. G-d, I have done what you said, I have done everything as you willed it. Please let me in!”
A rumble resounded and a fire appeared before him. His ears were blasted with the might of G-d’s voice.
You believe you did as I commanded? You forget I told you that if you lusted for flesh I would take your life’s blood?
The butcher stood there, shocked. “But I did it in your name, you can’t tell me…”
A boom of thunder cut the man off. What makes you different than anyone else on earth who murders my beings in my name? How many of my beings must suffer from the ones I have chosen to carry my message. How could you forget the main message I wanted you to carry, which is to take care of all of my beings on Earth. Have you forgotten? I have given you every plant yielding seed that is on the surface of the earth, and every tree yielding seed: it shall be food for you; and to every beast of the earth and to every bird of the sky and to everything that moves on the earth that has life, I have given every green plant for food. My original message which was contorted by human greed to say I allowed you to take the lives of my beings. Never did I tell anyone to kill any of my beings in my name.
In awe and fear, the butcher felt G-d’s reply with a force of guilt. “How was I supposed to know?”
You did, every time you looked into the eyes of the animal you were taking a life from, every time they tried to plea with you and pray to me, though they do not speak like humans. Every time you had a choice to do something different.
The Jewish butcher stood there, stunned. He then knew, what he had done. Taking G-d’s name and using it for violence, because other humans had determined it so. For G-d, this was the worst betrayal possible of G-d’s word. He felt that betrayal and kneeled before G-d.
“I am sorry, I thought what I was doing was fair.”
All evil that people choose to do, all of them thought it was fair.
The butcher cried, feeling his own betrayal of G-d’s intentions and wants.
“What can I do?” he cried, asking for mercy in his voice.
Can you bring back to life the souls you took? G-d asked.
“No, that is impossible,” the butcher responded.
That is where your answer lies. G-d left the man at the gates, and the man filled with guilt remained.