On Being Left Behind

First United Methodist Church
Birmingham, Michigan
Scriptures: Mark 13:1-8, 32-37 and I Thessalonians 4:13-18
April 17, 2005

When I was a kid (which some days feels like yesterday, but other days is beyond my ability to recall), I learned a version of a still-popular spiritual, the chorus of which went like this:

Good news, the chariot’s coming,

Good news, the chariot’s coming,

Good news, the chariot’s coming,

And I don’t want to be left behind.

In between multiple renditions of the chorus, I sang verses describing the delights of heaven….there being a “long white robe in heaven I know” and “a starry crown in heaven I know.” But each verse always returned to the phrase: “And I don’t want to be left behind.”

I didn’t think much about those words then. And, truth be told, I don’t think much about those words now. But some do. More to the point, many do. Most Christians assume there is more to life than we see here….more to life than we know here….more to life than we experience here….and that, when we die, we shall go to a “there” which is not here. Although there is great division among us about the nature of “there” (not to mention the “where” of “there”), along with endless disagreements about the population of “there,” the numerical census of “there,” and the eternal permanency of “there.”

Heaven versus hell. Saved versus damned. Included verses rejected. Everybody versus considerably less than everybody. Christians can start arguments about all of the above. And often do.

Generally, however, there has been common agreement about the fact that such issues will be settled after we die. But what if some of us go “there” before we die (without having died)….because we are taken there suddenly, dramatically, happily (one presumes), by a God who wants to reward us for fidelity and spare us from calamity? Calamity being just around the corner. Which true believers would just as soon avoid if at all possible. Thus explaining the line: “And I don’t want to be left behind.”

We are in the last days, some tell us. This is the time for the Bible’s prophecies to be fulfilled. This is the time when words like “eschatology” (Greek for “last things”) ought to resonate from churches’ pulpits. This is the time when the “Apocalypse” (a word which literally means “uncovering”) ought to be prepared for, rather than pondered. This is the time to take sides, the better to be taken up….lest, in the tumult that is to follow, we be taken out or taken down. But I get ahead of myself. Better I should back up and set the stage for you. All of this end-time thinking has roots that predate Christianity, but has become popular in this country little more than a century ago. Let’s see if I can summarize it for you.

We’re talking “dispensational theology” here, which teaches that history is divided into seven dispensations (or stages), during each of which God deals with (relates to) the world in a sharply different way. People who hold this view believe that we are in the seventh (and final) dispensation. They also believe that the millennium (more on that in a moment) is about to begin.

Popular novels based on end-time images are, however, relatively new. Go back to 1913-16 when a British writer named Sydney Watson published a trio of end-time novels entitled:

Scarlet and Purple

The Mark of the Beast

In the Twinkling of an Eye

Which were filled with plots, subplots and counterplots. And in which the Church of England was depicted as the “heavy.”

But while none of these titles is familiar to you, you may have seen copies of The Late, Great Planet Earth, published in 1969 by Hal Lindsey. The title was a take-off on a non-religious, pseudo-scientific thriller entitled The Last Days of the Late, Great State of California, which predicted that the state some call “golden” would soon slide into the waters of the Pacific Ocean. Lindsey’s book, which is still out there, sold over 34 million copies and was translated into 54 languages. Borrowing heavily from dispensational theology….and slicing and dicing biblical passages from Isaiah, Ezekiel and Revelation….Lindsey gave us what many now accept as the schedule (or sequence) of end-time events.

First, the Jews will return to their homeland and establish a Jewish state with Jerusalem as its capitol. Next, the Temple will be rebuilt on the Temple Mount (atop which I can take you, but only after we pass through a checkpoint staffed by Jordanians, since the only buildings on the Temple Mount presently are a pair of mosques, including the famous one with the dome of gold). After the Temple is rebuilt, the Jewish priesthood will be reconstituted and animal sacrifices….which have not been offered since the Temple was destroyed in 70 A.D. (and which only minimally occurred after 400 B.C.)….will be reinstituted.

Clearly, Dispensationalists were delighted when Israel was established in 1948….not because they identified with the Jews and their longing for a homeland, and not out of empathy for all that the Jews suffered in the Holocaust….but because the end-time countdown couldn’t go forward until the Jews came back. Today, dispensationalist Christians are eager for the Temple to be rebuilt, which is why they so strongly support hard-line politicians in Israel. Because it is only hard-liners who talk about dominating the political landscape and reclaiming the Temple Mount. Moderate leaders in Israel are more willing to negotiate with Palestinians and carve up the landscape in the name of peaceful coexistence. But, in the eyes of the Dispensationalists, peaceful coexistence works against God’s timetable and unnecessarily delays the inevitable.

So what is “the inevitable”? As already mentioned, the Temple will be rebuilt and the Jewish priesthood will be restored. Today, one can find Orthodox Jews hard at work preparing priestly garments for the period following the restoration. Animal sacrifices will then be reinstituted. And all of the above will be followed by wars, earthquakes and the multiplication of ominous signs. Which will then culminate in a massive attack on the newly-reconstituted Jewish state by a godless coalition led by the Antichrist.

The Antichrist (the Beast of Revelation 13:18) will utterly desecrate and destroy the Temple and slaughter the greater majority of Jerusalem’s Jews. Then will follow the great battle known as Armageddon (a word which has origins that are more geographic than theological). Megiddo is a town in Israel that may once have stood at the intersection of well-traveled trade routes, but is (today) one step removed from “Nowheresville.” The word “har” means “hill” or “small mountain.” Hence, “har-megiddo” (or the “hill of Megiddo”) translates into “Armageddon.”

In this mother of all battles, the forces of the Antichrist will appear to be winning. But as the clock is about to strike midnight, Jesus Christ will intervene. He will not intervene as teacher, healer or humble carpenter, but as warrior. The Beast will fall. His forces will fall with him. A grateful (albeit smallish) Jewish remnant will finally recognize their true messiah. Whereupon a thousand years of Christ’s reigning on earth (the millennium) will follow. Then the final judgment will cap things off and wrap things up.

This is dispensational theology. And while different groups may disagree with different aspects of the script….or exactly where we are in the script….there is no disagreement that there is a clock attached to the script. And the clock is ticking.

What is relatively new to the script is a renewed interest in the notion that sometime before the end (no one is sure exactly when), all true Christian believers will be snatched away from the trouble….or the Tribulation….into the Savior’s arms. Where, according to certain passages in Revelation, they will not only get to avoid it, but will be able to watch it (safely removed from it). This is called “the Rapture,” a word that appears nowhere in scripture, but was popularized by a 19th century preacher, John Darby, who (if not the founder of dispensational theology, is certainly its present-day father). The Rapture, at least in theory, bears some resemblance to the Catholic doctrine of the Assumption of Mary….who, as a reward for having been the mother of our Lord, was taken up into heaven without first having to die.

But nobody has popularized the Rapture as much as Jerry Jenkins and Tim LaHaye have popularized the Rapture. Thirteen volumes and forty-five million copies of adult fiction (carefully note the word “fiction”) and twenty-four volumes of children’s fiction entitled Left Behind: The Kids, have entertained, instructed, informed, and (in some cases) frightened millions upon millions of readers. The Rapture occurs in book one of the series as people are lifted off….or lifted up….from wherever they are. If they are sleeping, their pajamas are left in a heap among the bedclothes. If they are driving, their cars crash all over the road, given that they are now driverless. If they are heating something on the stove, houses burn down and fires break out all over the neighborhood because nobody is left to turn off the burners. Nurses vanish from maternity rooms as the mothers are about to give birth. A groom disappears as he is putting his bride’s ring on her finger. Pallbearers vanish while carrying a casket, which (upon falling) breaks open, revealing that the corpse has vanished, too. Those not raptured are “left behind” to get it (before it’s too late)….to get others (before it’s too late)….or get caught up in the Great Tribulation (in the event it is already too late).

In the Left Behind series, the most prominent Jewish character is an Israeli rabbi who accepts Jesus as messiah, watches in horror as unconverted Jews murder his family, ends up in a survivalist shelter in Chicago, and becomes an internet preacher of end-time Christianity. Meanwhile, the Antichrist (in the book series) is identified as Nicolae Jerry Carpathia, the former president of Romania….who becomes Secretary General of the United Nations and potentate of the enemy coalition known as “Global Community.” Dispensationalists fear anything that even hints at world cooperation, world government or world economy. Everything from the United Nations to the European Common Market is suspect. In the book series, Carpathia is assassinated in Jerusalem, but resurrected in a rebuilt city called New Babylon.

Historically, each generation has identified “the Beast” (or the Antichrist) with the villain most feared in its time. Hal Lindsey noted that the villain was to come from the north and, observing that Moscow is due north of Jerusalem, identified the Beast with Russia (or Stalin). In an earlier era, others said Hitler. Several people once played with the number 666 and decoded it to read “Henry Kissinger.” Today, the greater majority of Dispensationalists identify the Beast as Islam. Interestingly, in the Left Behind novels, Carpathia’s chief of security is Suhail Akbar (an Islamic name, if ever there was one).

* * * * *

As for me, none of this computes. This is not how I read history. This is not how I read theology. This is not how I read the Bible. And this is not how I read Jesus.

Curiously, end-time theology has little to do with Jesus. For Dispensationalists, Jesus belongs to the previous dispensation….the one culminating in his crucifixion. His moment will not reoccur until his return as warrior. Presently, neither his life nor his teachings are particularly relevant to this scenario. The primary motivation for getting on the Jesus bandwagon….or getting with the Jesus program….has to do with getting out while the getting is good. The die is cast. The deck is stacked. The game is fixed. The clock is ticking. Ministries of peacemaking, bridge-building, interfaith fence-mending and (especially) global partnering are so much whistling in the wind. In short, pretty much everything Jesus taught us to do….except disciple making….is secondary (if not outright oppositional) to what has already been decreed and decided.

Which is why, in Dispensationalist churches, you seldom hear sermons on the parables or lessons crafted on the Sermon on the Mount. Nor do you hear texts where, concerning the end-time, Jesus says: “I don’t know.” Think about that for a minute. Can you think of any other question Jesus answers by saying: “I don’t know”? Then, to his answer, he adds: “And you shouldn’t waste your time trying to guess.”

There are, of course, apocalyptic suggestions in the Gospel where Jesus talks about the suddenness with which something might happen to some people (see especially Luke 17:34-35). But most biblical scholars agree that a first century Jew or Gentile would have viewed a sudden call-up, not as a call to bliss (“Ah, the Rapture”), but as a call to accountability (“Oh, the Judgment”).

What do I believe? I believe that in creation God made a major investment in the world. I believe that in Jesus Christ, God upped the ante on that investment, coming to save rather than condemn the world (John 3:16-17….and where is that guy with the placard in the end zone when we need him?). Which means that the predicted destruction of the world….in whole or in part….carries the implication that God will have failed in what he set out to do in creation, and in what he set out to do in Christ.

I believe that, when it comes to Jesus, what you see is what you get….and everything you will ever get. Meaning that for me, for Jesus to return as a warrior is biblically incomprehensible. The same Jesus who said “No” to the idea of kicking Roman tail once, will say “No” to the idea of kicking Russian tail, Romanian tail, Jewish or Moslem tail now (or at some time in the future).

And I believe that the Kingdom….however out there in the future it may be….is also already here, planted in our midst, just like Jesus said it was when he talked about

  • seeds growing secretly,

  • seeds growing among weeds,

  • treasures buried in fields,

  • sheep dwelling among wolves (and)

  • yeast buried in dough.

Meaning that my job, as a Christian and as a preacher, is not so much to look for the Kingdom where it isn’t, but to work for the Kingdom where it is.

My friends, I love my God. I love my Jesus. And, more than you will ever know, I want to go to heaven when I die. But given the joy I find in this world, and the Kingdom potential I still see in this world, I’d just as soon wait and take the latest possible bus.


Note: In my weekly Steeple Notes column (mailed to all First Church members and constituents), I introduced this sermon with these observations.

From people predicting (or bemoaning) the imminent collapse of Michigan’s economy to conversations with young marrieds about their fears of conceiving and rearing children, I encounter more anxiety about the future than in any other period of my ministry. Which is what led me to underline the following passage in Harvey Cox’s essay, “The Armageddon Syndrome.”

Throughout its history as a book, some people have insisted on scrutinizing the Bible for Delphic predictions and secret coded messages. Jesus explicitly dismissed any claim to be clairvoyant. But his reticence is not something everyone emulates today. The world is awash with future scenarios, from Francis Fukuyama’s sunny assurance that (with the global triumph of capitalism) nothing of interest will happen until the Milky Way cools, to the dire warnings of certain meteorologists that our planet will be ten degrees warmer by the end of the century, rekindling plagues we had thought were banished forever. Meanwhile, radical Jihadists envision a world purged and purified by blood and flame, even as Walt Disney invites visitors to Orlando to sample the vinyl bliss of a technological Tomorrow Land ruled by benevolent corporations.

But the vision of the future that has captured America’s attention more than any other is the one that permeates an immensely popular sequence of novels called the Left Behind series. Would you believe, 45 million copies and climbing? The series is not significant for its literary merits, but because of its theological assumption that we are living out the final pages of history. The sheer enormity of its sales demands that we take it seriously.

I am deeply indebted to Cox’s essay for his observations on dispensational theology. While teaching at Harvard for the last forty years, Cox has surveyed the theological landscape as well as anybody and better than almost everybody. Interested readers will take special note of the implications of the Left Behind series for Jews.

An essay by John Dart in The Christian Century (September 25-October 8, 2002) is the source of my comment concerning modern biblical scholarship and the degree to which a first-century Jew or Gentile would have perceived “a sudden call-up” as having more to do with accountability than bliss. In reaching this conclusion, Dart draws heavily on the work of New Testament scholar Ben Witherington of Asbury Seminary.

In the week just prior to preaching this sermon, a pair of interesting things happened. First, the Detroit Free Press highlighted the introduction of a television series, Revelations, featuring the tantalizing sentence: “Revelations blends spiritual themes and supernatural thrills as a maverick nun and a skeptical scientist explore the end of days.” Look for it in Mike Duffy’s column in “The Way We Live” section of Wednesday, April 13. The same day, I received a Dispensationalist e-mail (I get them often) from a group connecting passages from the prophet Ezekiel with the inevitable slaughter of Saudi Arabia (with sidebar issues about the futures of Jordan and Syria).

Finally, I would recommend Bruce Metzger’s book, Breaking the Code: Understanding the Book of Revelation, as a trustworthy guide to the rich symbolism of this biblical  book. As concerns 666 (the number of the Beast mentioned at the end of chapter 13), Metzger writes:

Who is this satanic beast, symbolized by the number 666? Over the centuries a very great deal of ingenuity has been expended in attempting to answer this question. A further complication arises from the fact that some ancient manuscripts of the book of Revelation give the number as 616 instead of 666.

Among the names and titles that have been proposed to solve the cryptogram, the most probable candidate is the Emperor Nero. If we add the numerical values in the Hebrew spelling of the name Neron Caesar we obtain 666; on the other hand, since his name can equally well be spelled without the last N, if we omit the final N, the total will be 616. There does not appear to be any other name, or a name with a title, that satisfies both 666 and 616.

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