A week ago, some of us were waiting with bated breath to find out if Harold Camping had crunched the numbers correctly! Had the world ended during the night?
Even though the LDS church uses other phrases instead of the Rapture, a term embraced by other brands of Christianity, a deep interest in the events of Jesus Christ’s foretold return runs through Mormon theology and culture. A fascination with the arrival of the Son of God is as old as the story of Jesus himself. We are not the first society to believe ourselves the last. From the earliest days of Christianity, followers of Jesus, both before and after his crucifixion, expected his return during their lifetimes. Prophesies and hopes about apocalyptic events buoyed up many believers over the millennia. Some even radically changed the shapes of their lives – the famously celibate Shakers come to mind. At least one reason that these members of The United Society of Believers in Christ’s Second Appearing did not marry or reproduce was because they were trying to live the higher law a triumphant Jesus would usher in.
Other leaders of religious sects, whether from The Church of Christ, Scientist or The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, have guessed about the date of the end times kick-off, some more specifically than others. Many believers have derived comfort from thoughts of such events, perhaps because of the implied justice of the wicked burning. Others likely have hoped that Jesus will initiate the kind of enlightened world we humans seem incapable of creating or maintaining. Certainly, many believers see the tumult and confusion of life on earth and yearn for explanations.
After the devastating tsunamis that hit Japan earlier this year, I heard more than one church member posit that the earthquakes, flooding and storms were signs of the last times. In the incomprehensibility of this natural disaster, they sought meaning in the scriptures. And if a person believes that wars and rumors of wars and earthquakes in diverse places are part of a greater plan, clues in a kind of cosmic end game, then perhaps it is easier to fathom the loss of life and destruction of property. I understand how hope of a world where lambs and lions can lay down together brings peace.
And yet …
Far be it from me to imply any kind of expertise about what will or will not happen. I have none. Sure, I read the newspaper, I worry about the future, and my heart sinks when I see pictures of the place that used to be Joplin, Missouri. I agonize about the rate we’re gobbling up fossil fuels and razing trees, about the rapid desertification of places like the Sahel in central Africa. I wonder if my children will live to raise children, if there will be enough money left in Medicare after the Baby Boomers fill all their prescriptions. And I figure that any time I worry about some kind of second coming, I’m in good company. This is what many humans do, right? We stare into the Heavens and wonder. We’ve been doing this forever, though the holy books and designated signs and weather phenomena may change.
But living under the shadow of the second coming seems like a kind of narcissism as well. And any time we spend living in the future is time we subtract from the present. If we put all of our faith in a better world that will be ushered in by someone else, we are probably missing an opportunity to improve our own communities.
Last Saturday night, as I lay in bed and listened to a thunderstorm and thought about Camping and his soon-to-be bewildered followers, I skimmed Luke chapter 17. In it, Jesus has been asked by the Pharisees “when the kingdom of God should come,” and he tells them, “The kingdom of God cometh not with observation: Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you.” In this chapter, Jesus also tells his followers that yes, such a day is coming when people will be taken up – that “in that night there shall be two men in one bed; the one shall be taken, and the other shall be left. Two women shall be grinding together; the one shall be taken, and the other left. Two men shall be in the field; the one shall be taken, and the other left.”
And we’ve heard those phrases bandied about this year, haven’t we?
But I kept reading with increasing interest. Jesus also told these disciples that the return of the Son of Man would be as it was in the days of Old Testament-era destruction: “And as it was in the days of Noe, so shall it be also in the days of the Son of man. They did eat, they drank, they married wives, they were given in marriage, until the day that Noe entered into the ark, and the flood came, and destroyed them all. Likewise also as it was in the days of Lot; they did eat, they drank, they bought, they sold, they planted, they builded.”
Sure, Jesus warns them that when the brimstone starts to fall, people will “not return back.” He even cautions them to “Remember Lot’s wife.” But I found the most comfort in the phrase “they planted, they builded.” Life goes on. Instead of fretting and stockpiling, I need to plant trees and teach my children; instead of waiting for social justice and the righting of wrongs, I need to start building a better world today. Instead of waiting for calamity, I can live what Jesus taught now.
So speaking of the second coming … what worries you? What gives you hope? And do you dig Prince’s “Sign ‘O the Times” as much as I do?
Yes. I really do. :D
Lovely thought. This reminds me of something I was reading this morning about integrating spiritual practice into every aspect of your life:
I agree that it’s odd for any generation, upon reflection, to think that they are THE ONES who will be alive for the big event. So many have gone before us – with wars and rumors of wars, natural disasters and all more dramatic than ours. I think this is a demonstration of the depth of exceptionalism that informs so much of LDS (and religious?) thought. Believers believe, more than anything else, that they’re different from ‘the world’ – that no matter what may seem to be from the outside, they are special, and they will be rewarded for special belief and behaviour.
Actually, this is one of the biggest turn-offs of belief, for me. I don’t want to be ‘raptured’ up, leaving other human beings to burn. That’s just awful.
This is great – spot on, Erin!
You have a way with words. The day after Camping’s Big Rapture That Didn’t Happen, I had a little rapture of my own. I was driving north on Gilbert Road between Houston Street and Baseline Road when it suddenly dawned on me I didn’t feel very heavenly. In fact, I felt lousy. I realized there was no use in being dishonest about the fact I was feeling lousy, so I told myself, “I feel lousy. I feel really lousy! I guess I can accept that.” Somehow in the middle of that stream of thoughts I was taken up again into heaven, and all around me there was a new heaven and a new earth. I glanced west, and the landscaping of the office complex at the side of the road was glorious! Everything was glorious!
It dawned on me that the Camping’s Big Rapture had just occurred to me, albeit a day late. That’s my story, and I am sticking to it.
‘instead of waiting for social justice and the righting of wrongs, I need to start building a better world today.’
This is major. I had this realization a few years ago teaching my Gospel Doctrine class. The Second Coming happens anytime we are kind, anytime we right a wrong. We can’t anticipate those opportunities, but anytime we accept one, we are creating the Kingdom.