Not quite. 2 Tim 4:1. He is the One with Whom you have to do. Now or later, He's all you got.
In his right hand he's holding not a knife or a pair of scales - those damned
instruments are meant for butchers and grocers - no, he's holding a large sponge full
of water, like a rain-cloud. On his right is Paradise, on his left Hell. Here comes a soul;
the poor little thing's quite naked, because it's lost its cloak - it's body, I mean - and it's
shivering. God looks at it, laughing up his sleeve, but he plays the bogy man: "Come
here," he roars, "come here, you miserable wretch!"
"And he begins his questioning. The naked soul throws itself at God's feet. "Mercy!" it
cries. "I have sinned." And away it goes reciting its sins. It recites a whole rigmarole
and there's no end to it. God thinks this is too much of a good thing. He yawns. "For
heaven's sake stop!" he shouts. "I've heard enough of all that!" Flap! Slap! a wipe of
the sponge, and he washes out all the sins, "Away with you, clear out, run off to
Paradise!" he says to the soul. "Peterkin, let this poor little creature in, too!"
'Because God, you know, is a great lord, and that's what being a lord means: to
forgive!'
Zorba the Greek