Barring a bizarre death scenario, I'll be here post-Rapture a week from Sunday. I'll either wake to the news of a massive, worldwide disappearance of annoying fundamentalists (how is that a bad thing?) and a few Chrisitians I actually like, or I'll wake to Harold Camping's explanation of why the Rapture did not occur on May 21, 2011, as he's predicted. Or, perhaps he won't. When the Second Coming failed to materialize for Jehovah Witnesses in 1914 and 1915, they began a series of explanations that finally ended when it didn't happen again in 1975. They didn't even bother to explain that one. The nature of the faithful is that they will believe whatever is necessary to maintain their belief, especially in the face of evidence to the contrary. For many faith groups, it's considered a "test" of their faith, especially among the LDS who go so far as to insist that reality is simply a trick of the devil—think maya, the Hindu "illusion," with a 19th century American twist.
Many of you already know I grew up Pentecostal. I had the great misfortune of entering my oversexed teen years in conjunction with some horrifying books on end times prophecy hitting bestseller lists: Late Great Planet Earth by Hal Lindsey and The Vision by David Wilkerson, he of The Cross and the Switchblade fame. (In Wilkerson's defense, he actually predicted nudity on television, although he didn't predict pay television. Lindsey got nothing right.) Nothing contributes to teen angst about burning in hell for poontang quite like the promise of Jesus' imminent return. I spent the years from 12-16, when I abruptly left the faith for about ten years, anguishing over the threat of enduring the Tribulation for the sake of one more shot at Melanie's vajayjay. Surely beheading at the hands of the forces of Antichrist was worth one more shot at a natural redhead?
Like most (all) Pentecostal kids, I survived the 70s unRaptured, and the 80s, 90s, and 00s. I no longer know what "Jesus is coming soon," actually means, unless we're talking Latina porn. I barely escaped the 80s, at least according to the now deceased Edgar C. Whisenant. His pamphlet, 88 reasons Why The Rapture Will Be in 1988: The Feast of Trumpets (Rosh Hash-Ana) September, 11-12-13, now strangely out of print, caused a shitstorm in Pentecostal/Charismatic churches. Seriously. People selling their houses, quitting jobs, fucking that secretary they'd always...never mind. (I suspect Jesus was just pissed about the long-ass subtitle and was like, "Suck it, Edgar.") Anyway, survive the past 46 years I have, and I no longer worry about the Rapture. My last ten or so years as a Christian, a period which ended in 2006 if you're doing the Biblical numerology thing (always important when Rapture watching), I no longer believed in the Rapture. It was a position that caused some consternation at Southwestern Christian University, a school I was invited to leave my junior year. Apparently, according to one professor, "If Horton will compromise on the truth of the Rapture, what won't he compromise on?" Exactly. Disbelieve the Rapture, have sex with children. Ah, fundamentalism. How I don't miss you. An otherwise intelligent man who went to Harvard reduced to trite stupidity by the doctrine of a Jesus party a half mile off the ground.
I stopped believing in the Rapture because it's silly, even by metaphysical standards. It is, quite frankly, heretical. It does illustrate, though, that heresy is most often defined by what the majority will or won't accept, not by a test of exegesis. When John Nelson Darby first introduced this idea in the 18th century, no one had ever heard of such a thing. Had it not been popularized in Scofield's shitty annotations/references, it would have died a quick death on the moors of England. Alas. It's based on one verse. One. Nothing new to fundamentalism, mind you. They're convinced marriage is about one man and one woman, in the presence of hundreds of permissions for polygamy. Paul is writing to the Thessalonians. He uses a Greek word. The English transliteration ended up being Rapture. Now, here's the fun part. Grab verses from all over the Bible about judgment or last things or war or blood or Russia (yes, these guys used to believe the end times had to involve Russia), add them to that one verse, construct any end-times scenario you wish, blend, enjoy.
If the Rapture happens next weekend, I'll give every reader $100 dollars. However, what you must realize is that if it does happen, I just have to avoid you for about 3.5 years, and then Antichrist will be revealed and the smiting begins. At that point, I'll join the forces of Antichrist, and if you demand your money, I'll have you beheaded, because according to the Revelation, Antichrist cuts people's heads off. Apparently, when Lucifer returns to earth, he's utterly fucking befuddled by bullets and bombs and technology.
