By The Rev. Ted Thornton The force fueling what we know as rapture theology was persecution, real and imagined. Paul’s little church in Thessalonika in northern Macedonia in 51 AD was undergoing real persecution by its religious opponents. Paul wrote his first letter in an attempt to counsel perseverance and hope. The key text is 4:17 (NIV). There we read, “After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever.” This text gained the nickname “rapture text” because St. Jerome in his Latin translation of the Bible used the Latin verb rapio - meaning to snatch away - to translate Paul’s original Greek. More about this in a minute. But, here’s the quiding question for today: Is rapture the right way to think about leaving this world? Well, I was once a member of a small group invited to be raptured up to heaven. Had I accepted, I might not be here with you today to tell the story. Nearly fifty years ago, I was a student in a seminar at Harvard Divinity School with theologian Harvey Cox titled “Contemporary Theological Movements.” Harvey is now ninety-five years young. He’s the most influential theologian of our times. He published his first best seller, The Secular City, in 1965, and he’s still at it: in 2022, at the age of 93, he published his latest title - A New Heaven. One day, as I and my dozen or so classmates entered Harvey’s seminar room, we noticed a pair of strangers already sitting at the conference table. They’d been invited by one of our classmates who introduced them as representatives of the “UFO religion.” UFO Religion” is an umbrella nickname that covers many groups. Their starting point is the belief that messengers from heaven like themselves will come down to rescue the faithful from this evil world and “rapture” them, or “snatch them up” to heaven, as Paul puts it. Our visitors claimed they were no longer living mortal, physical lives. They’d been raptured up to heaven, and then sent back down to earth to rapture new converts into the hereafter. After about half an hour, Harvey Cox, who’d remained silent up to that point, had heard enough. He slammed his Bible down on the conference table and said, “Okay, time to show me where in the Bible the word ‘rapture’ appears. I dare you to find it.” Well, they couldn’t do it because the word rapture cannot be found anywhere in the Bible. Harvey then rose to his feet and stamped out saying he was heading home to seek some “rapture” of his own (he lived just down the street from the “Div” School). And so, our professor deserted us. We continued the discussion with these two guys on our own, and - no - we did not accept their invitation to join the ranks of the raptured. Harvey Cox was right: the English noun “rapture” cannot be found anywhere in the Bible. The closest you can come to it is in St. Jerome’s translation of the Bible from Greek to Latin, known as the “Vulgate Bible” (Vulgate meaning “common tongue”), which he completed in the late fourth century A.D. Jerome translated First Thessalonians 4:17 using a form of the Latin verb rapio which means "to snatch up"). Our violent English word “rape” comes from this word. Jerome used a form of this word altogether twenty times in his Latin translation. Before we go any further let’s clarify some terms. Rapture theology is a way some Christians understand eschatology. Eschatology comes from a Greek word meaning “last things,” and refers to descriptions of what will happen when the world comes to its end, or its “eschaton.” The literary form by which descriptions of the eschaton are transmitted is called “apocalyptic,” coming from a Greek word that means “revealing.” That’s how the final book of the Bible, bearing the Greek title, Apocalypse of John, came to be called in general English usage The Book of Revelation. The actual event at which the end occurs is often called informally “the apocalypse,” but in formal theology (“God-talk”) it’s called the eschaton. Finally, another word associated with eschatological events is Armageddon, the place where some believe a final cosmic battle will begin between the forces of good and the forces of evil. This word appears only once in the Bible, yet it’s one of the most familiar words in Christian discussions of the eschaton. The single occurrence is in Revelation 16, verse 16 (“And he gathered them together into a place called in the Hebrew tongue Armageddon.”). Now, Armageddon was not just the stuff of eschatological nightmares; it was a real geographical place in ancient Israel (so by the way was hell, but that’s a story for another day). Armageddon was a city in ancient northern Israel named Megiddo, in Hebrew, Har Megiddo: “Megiddo Hill.” You can visit its archaeological remains. At its height during the reign of Solomon in the 900s B.C.E., Megiddo lay astride one of the busiest trade routes between Egypt and regions to the northeast, and as such was the scene of many battles as people competed with one another. It’s this history that led to the myth that at the eschaton, the final great battle between the forces of good and evil will occur there. Relatively speaking, no one paid much attention to biblical passages predicting the rapture until the nineteenth century in some parts of Europe and our own United States. Then, thanks to ministers like John Nelson Darby and Cyrus Scofield there was a surge of interest in Christian eschatological thinking, including rapture theology: the conviction that Christ will suddenly snatch “his bride,” the Church, and carry her off to heaven before the eschaton begins. Darby and Scofield were what we in the trade call “premillennial dispensationalists”: that’s a mouthful for people who believe Christ will return to the world at a particular place and time to prepare it for its final thousand years before it ends. The problem with this idea is that there isn’t a shred of support for it in scripture. The passage most often cited to tell us how it will really happen is Matthew 24, verse 36, where Jesus says, “But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father (NIV).” The Trinitarian Congregational Church in Northfield, where I served as a Supply minister for three months during Covid, called Cyrus Scofield as its pastor in 1895. Unfortunately, he is remembered as a disagreeable bully who, apparently not busy enough with pastoring, strove to control what was being taught in D. L. Moody’s Northfield school just up the street. Those who knew John Nelson Darby remember him likewise as an ill-tempered, controlling, and scornful curmudgeon. In Massachusetts during this period, William Miller persuaded tens of thousands of his followers that the world would end on October 22,1844. Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882) was asked if he was prepared. He replied, “The end of the world does not affect me; I can get along without it.” A new surge of interest in the rapture and in eschatology began in the early 1980s, even reaching the White House. President Reagan once told a pro-Israeli lobbyist in 1983, 'You know, I turn back to your ancient prophets in the Old Testament and the signs foretelling Armageddon, and I find myself wondering if we're the generation that's going to see that come about.” Reagan’s interest in Armageddon prompted one writer to investigate the activities of Pantex, one of the nation’s nuclear bomb assembly and storage sites, located in Amarillo, Texas. Amarillo plays host to a number of evangelical sects who believe fervently in Armageddon, and some of them believe that Armageddon and the rapture of the faithful at the eschaton will come to pass by way of a nuclear holocaust. Such are the beliefs of some who divide the world between absolute good and absolute evil, between the followers of the Lord and the followers of Satan. For them, nuclear war is the Armageddon that the Book of Revelation predicts and Rapture is the vehicle by which they will be saved while all others are destroyed and damned eternally. Rapture theology reached its height in popularity with Hal Lindsey’s book, The Late Great Planet Earth, which was published in 1970, and which the New York Times called the best selling non-fiction book of the decade. A few decades later came the “Left Behind” series, sixteen novels authored by Jerry B. Jenkins and Tim LaHaye that began appearing in 1995. So far, sixty million copies of the Left Behind books have been sold worldwide. The thesis of these books is that just before the Second Coming of Christ all genuine Christian believers in Jesus will be raptured: they will go straight to heaven into God’s presence without first passing through death, like the two gentlemen who came to my seminar. Those who don’t believe in Jesus will be “left behind” on earth to suffer and perish at Armageddon. They made a movie based on these books: a kind of Christian “Home Alone” film. In the end, what’s most disturbing about rapture theology and what’s missing is any vision of spiritual community, any vision of shared humanity in which all God's children put their hopes in a peaceful and just coexistence. And, this is the point that so many miss about biblical apocalyptic expressions of the eschaton: they are not predictions of the destruction of this world but allegorical cries of hope for release from tyranny in this world and the restoration of peace and justice in the here and now. The Book of Revelation was written by a man named John, almost certainly not the author of the Gospel, but another John who was sent into exile on the Aegean island of Patmos during the persecutions of the Roman Emperor Domitian at the end of the first century A.D. John’s book is an allegorical cry, not for the eschaton, but for release from the rule of Rome and restoration of the rule of God in what the Book of Revelation calls a “new Jerusalem (3:12 and 21:2).” Likewise, the apocalyptic Book of Daniel in the Hebrew Bible stands as a Jewish protest against the extreme Hellenism of the Greek ruler Antiochus IV, who in 167 BCE profaned the temple in Jerusalem by setting up an altar to Zeus there and sacrificing a pig on it. This event is referred to in Daniel 11:31 as “the abomination that makes desolate,” a phrase repeated by Jesus in his prediction of the destruction of the temple in Mark 13:14 and Matthew 24:15. Jesus thought the temple priesthood had been taken over by men whose principal loyalty was to Rome, not to God. And finally, Paul’s aim in his First Letter to the Thessalonians was to encourage his little church there to persevere in the face of persecution from far more numerous rival religious groups. But, let’s return to our guiding question: is rapture the right way to be thinking about leaving this world? As bad as things are in our world, you and I have not lived as members of a persecuted religious minority. The holy spirit speaks to us in different voices than it did in the first centuries of Christianity. I take that to mean that we should not read some parts of the Bible so literally. The rabbinical approach to the Jewish Torah has long been as follows: read a portion every day, pray about what you read, then behave according to the principle Jews call in Hebrew, chesed: doing “acts of loving kindness.” That’s very different from reading scripture with your hands tied behind your back. All of us want a future. Will it be an inclusive or an exclusive future? Will it be a future where some are damned and “left behind?” Does that vision make any sense to people who say they believe that God is love? Will it be a “meeting in the air,” as the old gospel tune has it, or a meeting here on the ground of God's creation, the good earth, where we can together - all of us - work to establish a healthy, sustainable present and future for all? It’s a choice between fatalism and hope. Which will we choose? Never give up on this beautiful world God created for you and me. Repent of the harm we do to it daily and to one another. Take a lesson from Harvey Cox. Look to the here and now for your rapture. Look for it in a gorgeous sunset. Look for it in beautiful music. Look for it in the faces of your friends and loved ones. Don’t let people like Tim LaHaye and those who are building nuclear weapons in Texas have the final say on rapture. Amen.
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