Sorry, Virginia, there isn’t going to be a Rapture. Ever.
Family Radio will still take your donation on Monday, in case you were wondering.
It is very easy to laugh at the people who were waiting for the world to end at 6pm central time yesterday, except, of course, for those poor bastards in Iceland who crapped themselves when they saw this on the horizon. The locals in the story seem unfazed as it isn’t that uncommon an event, but the potential for hilarious misunderstandings was certainly there. When I was younger I thought the 1994 prediction was a laugh riot; there isn’t anything amusing about this time around to me. Some of these people are simply delusional, such as the man in this article who suspects he may be the messiah, but that doesn’t make their suffering any less real. I can’t laugh at him. (I can, however, laugh at this man who suspects that he may be the messiah. Compare them and experience moral relativism in action!)
The theology that underlies the ‘Left Behind’ delusion is the result of a worldview that is stunted from a lack of imagination and compassion, to say nothing of an extreme irony deficiency. It is based on the idea that God is an invisible angry giant who lives in the sky and hates the world and is just slavering to wipe it out but is held back by the mystic bonds of Biblical numerology; it requires the entire universe to be nothing but backdrop for a 7,000 year long morality play with a very predictable ending and a plot as contrived as one of the ‘National Treasure’ movies. To embrace this worldview is to reject thought, wonder, and hope.
Jesus is not going to come back riding a dragon in the sky or water skiing behind the kraken. To say so is not a rejection of His teaching or His love; it is, however, a rejection of the nonsense peddled by those who are trying to seduce you into your own private Hell of confusion and delusion. We all want our lives to be more important than they are, and what could be more important than being present for the End of All Things? As I write this it is a beautiful Sunday morning in Chicago, 72 degrees and a perfect blue sky. Children are playing outside and the Beatles are playing in my living room. One does not have to be at the center of a cosmic event to find meaning and peace; there is another way of looking at the world that allows you to perceive the transcendental all of existence without being a drama queen about it.