A man was born Jewish and converted to Christianity in is twenties. He stayed a devout Christian until his fiftieth birthday. After an ugly divorce he decided to find peace and He became Buddhist into his dotage. At sixty six he died.

After he then passed away, he, “awoke,” finding himself in a strange bar. The bar was all glass – extremely stylish and well lit from behind. He gazed around his new-found environment, noticing a handsome bartender, in his thirties, tending the end of the bar. He felt intensely thirsty, after all he had completed the ultimate journey – death – and boy, did he need a stiff drink.

He gestured to the bartender who approached him in an impeccable manner. “Hello, Mr. Smith ( he even knew his name? ) what would you like to drink? On the glass-lit shelf behind the handsome bartender just four bottles stood. He was surprised they were all the same – simple glass bottles with simple labels – each label standing out.

On the first; a Star of David. This bottle was filled to the brim with what looked like water. The second bottle had a Christian Cross on it; perfect and black. It too was filled with the same liquid; it too full. And the third bottle? It had a small, fat smiling Buddha on its’ label; it too, the same, full of clear, watery liquid.

The fourth bottle was nearly empty with a brief, measure of the most adamantine, aquamarine and shimmering liquid he had ever seen. The liquid in this one was unbelievably beautiful like a deep shiny ocean yet contained in a mere centimeter. He was struck dumb.

“Mr. Smith!” He heard the bartender press him back to reality, “Mr. Smith, what would you like to drink?” The uncannily sensual smile disturbed his shock at being here.

“Oh, oh…I’ll have some from that first bottle, please Son.” he stuttered; his intense thirst augmenting his desire to drink.

The young man poured him a drink from the first bottle. He grabbed the glass, so thirsty was he, and greedily gulping the liquid from the now empty bottle in an attempt to slake his thirst.

“Why, why…it’s completely tasteless.” He looked at the bartender, “Please, another glass, from the bottle with the Cross on it – that second bottle.”

The wryly smiling barman refilled his glass. Mr. Smith, still thirsty, drank down the next drink, a little more controlled this time. He said, “Lad, it’s nothing, I’m still thirsty. Please, let me try that bottle, the third one, with the Buddha on it, please.”

The suave attendant, still smiling to himself, refilled Mr. Smith’s glass with the full, odorless and clear liquid pouring Smith’s glass to the brim.

Mr. Smith, once again thirstily finished the drink. “It’s completely and utterly without form or taste! Help me! He was angry; exasperated at the amount of tasteless, formless liquid he was forced to drink in this glass bar in, “Heaven.”

“That fourth bottle, let me drink that please.” Remember the forth bottle had no label with just one last drop of liquid in it. When the tender poured it into his glass it moved like something magical, swirling around in his glass and transfixing his gaze. His thirst was now at its’ peak; unsatisfied. “If this doesn’t work, what will I do, I’ll die of thirst?!”

He slammed down the bright liquid, totally unconcerned at it’s nature, so thirsty was he. Instantaneously his thirst was slaked. He felt alive – his being filled with an amazing sense of peace, joy and strength.

He turned to the young man behind the bar and asked, “What was that drink, Son? I’m completely quenched.”

The handsome youth replied smiling, “The first bottle was you first religion – Judaism. You were born into that Faith and you threw yourself into that – but you followed only it’s words, never it’s deed.” The bartender leaned forward cloth in hand. He continued fixing the man with his incredible gaze. “The second beverage was your change to Christianity. Oh yes, you were rebellious, you admired Bob Dylan’s conversion and look, you drank only plain water.”

Mr. Smith watched him intently. “And the third,” the robust young blade raising his voice, “the third was your Buddhism after your wife left you. Once again, you followed the creed – never the deed.”

Now rendered innocent Mr. Smith asked the boy, “What was the fourth?” His voice wavering with awe and terribly afraid.

“The fourth was simply your life, the most thirst quenching creed of them all. That bottle would have been full if you had paid attention to it at all.”