The Reverend Dr. Cynthia Campbell is
President of McCormick Theological Seminary in Chicago.
Scripture: Matthew 24: 36-44
(36) "But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven,
nor the Son, but only the Father. (37) For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming
of the Son of Man. (38) For as in those days before the flood they were eating and
drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, (39) and
they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming
of the Son of Man. (40) Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be
left. (41) Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be
left. (42) Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. (43)
But understand this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the
thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken
into. (44) Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected
hour.
-- Matthew 24:36-44
They call it "beach reading:" books that entertain more than they enlighten;
books that can be comprehended despite frequent interruptions for naps; books that you
don't mind if you get a little water or sand or your favorite food or drink on them. In
other seasons, "beach reading," especially fiction, might be called "trash
novels." I do not mean by either label to indicate my disdain or disapproval for all
of this sort of writing. No one who spends as much time traveling as I do can reasonably
dismiss entertainment reading. My personal taste leans in the direction of mysteries,
detective stories, and lawyer stories than romance or science fiction, but the genre
covers them all.
Sometime earlier this year I succumbed to one of these best-sellers. It is an
intriguing spin off of action fiction, what promos call a "page turner." I think
the series is now in its eighth volume. They claim to have sold in the tens of millions in
the series. So, I bought and have read most of Left Behind, the first book in the Left
Behind series.
The premise of this book is that the "rapture" has taken place, and the
entire world is on the brink of chaos. The idea of the rapture emerged in Christian
thinking late in the 19th century. It is based on a few very isolated biblical texts
which, woven together and read literally, produce a scenario describing the end of the
world.
According to this theory, when the right time comes, all the true Christians will
disappear. Jesus will rescue them: literally take them directly up to heaven. There they
will wait out the "tribulation," a time of warfare between the forces of God and
the forces of the Antichrist. This will climax in the battle of Armageddon. After that
battle, the millennium of peace and joy will come.
This idea of the rapture reappears from time to time in American religious life. When I
was a pastor in Dallas in the mid-1970's, there was a crusade that made much of
"getting ready" for this event. One Presbyterian church retaliated by having
bumper stickers printed up that read: "In case of the rapture, this car will still be
occupied by a Presbyterian."
In Left Behind, this "rapture" is described in very dramatic terms. At one
moment, all around the world, some adults and all children simply vanish, leaving only
their clothing behind. There are massive traffic jams as cars suddenly become driverless.
Airplanes plummet to the ground. In my favorite vignette, the not-really-saved assistant
pastor of a fundamentalist church is reading late at night in bed and nods off. He awakens
and senses that his wife is no longer beside him. He turns over, pulls back the covers and
discovers only her nightgown and hair curlers. This "rapture experience" is
based on a literal reading of our gospel text: two women will be grinding at the mill; one
will be taken, the other left ... Left behind.
Left behind. The very words are designed to raise anxiety, to instill fear, to make the
reader worry. Will I be left behind? Am I really saved? Is everything ok? What's next?
Anxiety about the future is something we all have from time to time. Whether it is our
health or employment; retirement income or what will happen to our children, we wonder and
worry about the future.
In addition to our personal lives, there are all sorts of things to be anxious about:
global warming and the degradation of the environment; drug-resistant infections;
terrorism; the economy. Theology such as this appeals to all of those fears. It says: if
you are saved, you won't have to face all of these trials. You will be lifted up and out
of all of this mess. Before it goes from bad to worse, God will rescue you - maybe not
your friends or even your family members - but God will come for you!
It is fascinating to me that this version of Christian faith, first developed over a
century ago, made such a strong re-appearance as the 20th century came to an end. It is
intriguing that this new anxiety about the future began on the heels of the most
materially prosperous time in American history. It betrays, I think, a deep-seated anxiety
beneath our apparent success and security - an anxiety that is like to get worse as times
become even more precarious.
Anxiety about the future is understandable, but this particular response, in my
opinion, does serious damage to the good news of the gospel. It makes some assumptions and
claims that I think are fundamentally at odds with the basic thrust of Christian faith.
First of all, the theology of the rapture suggests that the earth is not our home. This
view is not new; it has surfaced a number of times in Christian history. We are pilgrims;
we are bound for glory; we are headed HOME to God ... this earth is not our home. The
problem with this is that it implies that creation was good only at the beginning but
isn't really good any longer. It means believing that we really don't belong here - we
belong with God, and God isn't here. It also means believing that things are so bad that
God can only bring the new creation by destroying the present creation.
I don't want to give up that easily. I believe that God made us and this world and
called both very good. Of course we are flawed and broken; we have done major damage to
the earth and to one another. But I also believe that this earth is our home and that
God's promise is to redeem both us and this creation; to restore us and the world
according to God's original design. I do believe that the gospel contains profound hope
for future beyond this life, but I also believe that while we are alive this is our home
and God is here with us. I also believe that God is already in the process of transforming
us and this world and that God calls upon us to join in God's work here and now. That's
what Jesus meant, I think, when he said: the kingdom of God is in your midst. But if you
are waiting for the rapture, you don't really care about the here and now; you're focused
on tomorrow!
A second problem I have with the rapture notion is the one vividly expressed in our
gospel: two will be in the field, one will be taken and one will be left. According to the
rapture theory, those who will be taken are the true Christians, those who have sincerely
repented and received Christ (in what these folk would consider just the right way). This
means that God intends to save only some people but not all. Those who believe this cite
Paul, who wrote: "at the right time, Christ died for the godly." Only the chosen
are saved, and God knows who they are. In fact, a number of theologians in the Reformed
tradition have believed this: that the effect of Christ's saving death is limited to those
whom God has chosen to save. But then you must take account of something else Paul wrote:
"God was in Christ reconciling the world [the whole world, the cosmos, the creation]
to himself." Not some of it, all of it.
There is another problem here, namely the way rapture theory reads the "one taken,
one left" scenario. Rapture theory says that the one is taken because of something
that one has done: namely, repent. This means that it finally depends on us. It's up to
you. You have to believe. You have to decide. And if you don't, you will be ... left
behind. You must repent, otherwise God will not forgive you. But this takes us back to
Paul's argument with the Galatians: we are saved by grace through faith, Paul wrote, not
by works lest anyone should boast. The rapture theory has turned faith into a work, into
something we do, a requirement for entrance, rather than a gift of God's grace. Paul's
point was that grace is always first; call precedes response; and even the response of
faith is the gift God has given ... lest anyone should boast!
The third major problem with the rapture theory has to do with what comes afterwards.
Those who are left behind are left to experience the "tribulation" or the
struggle between good and evil; the battle between God and Satan (in the form of the
Antichrist). Underlying this view of the future is the concept of a force of evil that is
almost as powerful as God. It is the force of evil that is to blame for the pain and
suffering of the world (not us!). The only way God will get rid of this evil is by going
to battle. The only way to deal with evil is to wage war, to shed blood, to kill. No
non-violent revolution here! This enemy is not loved or even redeemed, just destroyed.
Is there another way to look at all of this? One way is expressed in The Brief
Statement of Faith, adopted by the Presbyterian Church (USA) in 1991. It puts all of these
questions, questions about the end and the beginning in a much larger context.
The opening and closing lines of the Brief Statement are these: "In life and in
death, we belong to God. And nothing in life or in death will be able to separate us from
the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."
Faith for us is a matter of trust, not fear. It's as simple as that. God does not want
us to spend our waking hours worried about whether we are "really" saved. God
does not want us to concentrate on the end of the world. God wants us to trust God to live
up to God's promises, and so to live as to love and serve God now and here. For us, the
core of that promise for Christians is that nothing ... in all creation will be able to
separate us from God's love.
Several years ago now, I was visiting Barbara Wheeler who is the President of Auburn
Seminary, at her home in Granville, New York. Nearby is a place called "Miller
Rock" the place where, in 1839 a group of Christians gathered to await Christ's
Second Coming, his literal re-appearance on earth to usher in the end of creation. There
was no re-appearance that year (or the year after) but that group of believers eventually
became the Seventh Day Adventist Church. The Adventists loved to sing, and in the 19th
century wrote hundreds of hymns joyfully anticipating Christ's return.
As we drove away from Miller Rock that day, Barbara began singing one of these bouncy
tunes. Between hymns, I said: " Of all the standard doctrines of Christian faith, the
one that has always left me cold is the Second Coming of Christ." Barbara looked at
me in surprise and shock and said, "Then how can you hope! What gives you the energy
to work for change? How can you believe that good will triumph over evil, that God will
prevail, that there will really be an end to suffering and pain and death?"
Barbara has herself reported this exchanged in one of her sermons. She likes it because
I must admit that she is right.
In the prayer at the Lord's Supper, many Christians say or sing: "Christ has died.
Christ is risen. Christ will come again." This isn't just a nice parallelism. It
means that the beginning and the end are in God's hands. It means that there is a larger
plan for this universe than that it simply exists. It means that there is a moral
structure or shape embedded in creation. It means that death, destruction, separation and
suffering are not the last word. God is the last word just as God is the first word.
"In life and in death, we belong to God." That is God's promise. I believe it
is a promise for everyone. Just as the gospel song says: He's got the whole world in his
hands! You and me, the little bitty baby, the wind and the rain, everybody here: the whole
of creation in God's hands. And that is as much of the future as I need to know.
