| Like many, I watched the rapture antics and the buildup leading to May 21. I was actually one of the few not to hear the news until two weeks before, so it took me by surprise when heralds began popping up left and right. I confess to being a little uneasy, feeling as if a lot of people were in the know and I was odd man out.
Then I learned the movement was more Astroturf than grass roots.
Still, instead of contempt I experienced a sort of respect for Camping and his followers. These people knew what they believed in and they had staked their reputations, their property, in some cases even their lives on their conclusion. This was not some unknown future date or heavenly plane of existence. The results would be imminent.
This deserved serious consideration.
I’ll admit, I even weakened for a moment. Could so many people be so sure and so wrong about something?* I mean, there’s been a lot of tsunamis, quakes and dead birds, could it really all be coincidental?**
Then I found myself thinking: well what if I took Pascal’s Wager and got myself saved, just in case?
Of course, a moment’s critical thought quickly disabused me of any such possibility. I couldn’t ‘just get saved’ or ‘just believe’. There’s no ‘just’ about it. To believe in a savior means to believe in the necessity of salvation. This means believing in original sin, a literal Adam and Eve, the Flood, etc, etc . In short, one must accept the narrative and physical and historical worldview in its entirety. I simply couldn’t do that on faith, and by the time incontrovertible evidence was presented, it would be too late.
And the truly amazing part of it was, for a few brief moments I was so paralyzed with fear that neither the insanity nor the injustice of it mattered.
Their book says that fear of God is the beginning of wisdom. It’s certainly the beginning of something, but I wouldn’t call it ‘wisdom.’
Ah but I almost forgot, when I finally accepted that if Camping was right, I was utterly wrong and so consigned to eternal torment without rest, then my mind then turned to my loved ones. I know almost for a fact that none of them are properly saved and so Heaven is practically impossible.
Oddly enough, I simply cannot see any justice in this. If God wants to collect up His saved, fine, but why destroy the world and consign the rest of us to hell? For that matter, when He committed omnicide in Noah’s time, why kill all those animals too? Why not just will everyone but Noah and his kin to keel over dead?
It certainly brought the amorality and nihilism of religion front and center.
Thank you Mr. Camping, for utterly destroying any possibility that I might ever love your supernatural tyrant.
But there’s more: Camping and Co also unintentionally served as a sort of sounding board for the religious mind. A canary down the well if you will, or a few lone landmines prematurely exploding and thus making you more aware of the minefield just under the surface.
You notice how when Christians objected to the Camping movement, it’s always based on the ‘no one can know’ line and no other aspect of it. It puts me in the mind of ‘moderate’ Muslims who, when confronted with the fact that their faith mandates sharia law as the supreme law of the land, don’t so much deny as demur: well, say they, there’s different{i} interpretations{/i} of sharia law.
They can’t deny their faith demands supernaturally-imposed law rather than democratic law. Just as Christians can’t deny that this is indeed their view of reality.
Thank you Mr. Camping, for shining a spotlight in this dark corner of the Christian mind, so rarely acknowledged.
But as I said, their commitment was deserving of my respect and serious consideration, so I stuck with their premise. During the week leading up to May 21 I did exactly what Jesus warned against: I went to work and threw myself into my job, so that the things of this world would seem real. All the while I envisioned the fabric of the world breaking apart, meteors falling from the sky, fire erupting from the ground, etc.
I spent the day itself quietly, with loved ones, and you know what? It really gave me a sense of the value of life due to its very fragility. Seriously contemplating the end of everything made the problems I normally face seem not very insurmountable at all.
Thank you Mr. Camping, for reminding me of the value of life.
Finally, as I checked news on the Net for word of the Rapture non-event, I also scanned the headlines immediately beneath. They made for some sobering reading. Wars, bombings, political uncertainty, economic woes, disease and death.
The world is a scary place. I began to feel more sympathy for people who accept Camping’s view of reality. A deterministic, authoritarian worldview can be comforting when it means you only have one choice to make – to believe – and that choice not only matters, but has cosmic significance.
Please look at my earlier post ‘It’s all part of the plan’ for further thoughts on that aspect of religious psychology and human psychology in general.
A lot of Camping’s followers emerged from this business ruined emotionally and financially. One woman even attempted to slit her own children’s throats to spare them***, but personally I found the experience held some value. It tested my convictions, caused me to analyze my beliefs, and reminded me to appreciate life and I hope it will spur me to make the best of my time in this world.
So thank you, Mr. Camping, you’ve earned my gratitude.
But if you utter one word about tornadoes in the Midwest, then I hope someone punches you in the face.
*Answer: Yes. They can. It happens all the time.
**See above asterisk.
***But ultimately this behavior is still more beneficial than that of groups like the Family, who amass money and power in this world and believe they are destined to rule until its undetermined end. I would prefer those guys take the Camping route. |
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