Rapture: The End-Times Error That Leaves the Bible Behind (52 page)

Now that we have analyzed the thematic summary that God gives us of the Lamb’s Bride, let us go back to the future for just a moment. With the descent of the New Jerusalem (which occurs at the final eschaton), God declares, “It is done!” (21:6). During creation, God repeatedly found that His work deserved the label, “It is good” (Gen. 1). But now that we are at the end of time, and eternity has begun, God states, “It is done.” All of time—in fact, the very purpose of time’s creation—was necessary for the epitome of God’s plan to be done. The Church has entered eternity!

Just what is God referring to as being “done”? Since we are at the summit of the entire book, I believe God is referring to the complete thrust of these visions. The mystery of the Kingdom has been revealed, the final battle between the Woman’s offspring and the dragon has been completed, the final judgment has occurred, and the New Jerusalem has come down from Heaven. The final and complete victory of Christ on earth causes the Church Triumphant to descend in glory. This is what is “done”: God’s plan for His Church, God’s plan for the world, the mystery of the gospel.

This culmination of God’s plan for His Kingdom is something for which we pray every day. When we pray the Our Father, we say,

Our Father, who art in Heaven,

Hallowed be Thy name.

Thy kingdom come.

Thy will be done,

On earth as it is in Heaven.…

The Apocalypse makes it clear that Christ’s Kingdom is already here on earth. If that is true, why do we still pray for its coming?

Notice what Jesus actually taught us to pray. We pray that God’s “will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven.” God’s will is already imperfectly accomplished here on earth, and we pray that it may be done perfectly here on earth, just as it is presently done perfectly in Heaven. In a similar way, God’s Kingdom has already incompletely come here on earth. We pray for it to come in its fullness “on earth as it is in Heaven.” We desire the New Jerusalem in all its glory, just as she is in Heaven already. The prayer that the Lord taught His disciples fits in perfectly with the Church’s understanding of the present, limited reality of the Kingdom of God.

Here in this vision at the end of time, we witness the answer to our prayers. “It is done!” God’s Kingdom has finally come here on earth as it already is in Heaven. The New Jerusalem has descended in all its fullness. This New Jerusalem is “the Bride, the wife of the Lamb” (21:9).

Notice how we ask God to accomplish His will here on earth via the same means He uses in Heaven. Think about this for a moment. All through this book, God’s will has been done through the obedience of a Son. The willingness of the Son to live the Truth of the gospel, to put love for God and others before His own physical welfare, enabled the strategy of the Lamb to be victorious. That is how God wants to accomplish His will on earth as well: through the obedience of His children, through our endurance and faith.

The Apocalypse concludes with a note of encouragement. We have seen that, in the end, the goodness of God overcomes the evil of Satan and his forces. Jesus concludes by telling us, “Surely I am coming soon” (22:20).

This statement primarily refers to His coming in 70 A.D. Since this vision was recorded in 68 A.D., He did come soon in His judgment of Jerusalem. He had predicted this judgment before His Passion forty years ahead of time, and He came as promised.

Yet this statement has an application for us in the twenty-first century as well (GR3). Christ is coming for you and me in our generation. It may be at the final eschaton. It may not. It may be at our own death. Surely, though, one way or another, we will experience the coming of Christ as Judge in our generation: at our own final moment. That final moment will be no later than when we die.

Christ can be trusted to keep His promises. The events of 70 A.D. stand as a promissory note that assures us that Christ is capable of coming again as promised. He will come as Judge at our death and at the final eschaton as well. Christ speaks Truth.

We must now ask ourselves two straightforward questions.

First,
Where in the Bible is there a passage that teaches a two-stage coming, including both a secret rapture and then a glorious second coming?
We have examined all the relevant passages, and the answer remains the same.
There is no passage anywhere that teaches both a rapture and a second advent
.

This seems to be the least that rapturists should provide. But the passage does not exist, and they know it, which is why they are forced to pick and shuffle passages between these two events, in an attempt to shoehorn their theology into Scripture. In so doing, they leave the true meaning of the Bible behind. For a movement that vocally espouses
sola Scriptura
, this is a fatal flaw.

The second question has two parts:
Is there anything in these twenty-two chapters of The Apocalypse that necessitates a secret rapture before a future seven-year Great Tribulation? Is there anything in The Apocalypse that clearly predicts a future physical reign of Christ, centered in the Middle East for a thousand years?

I have spent a great deal of time with you in The Apocalypse. Some might say I have been too thorough. But I wanted to be thorough enough to answer this second question.

The answer should be obvious. No, there is not. There is nothing anywhere in The Apocalypse that demands a rapture or a seven-year Great Tribulation or an earthly Millennium in the future. There is not even a shred of justification for these teachings. Some of the misinterpretation fails to take into account the apocalyptic nature of the book. Much of it ignores precedents within the Old and New Testaments. A fair share is a result of sleeping through ancient-history class and developing Winkle Warp.

Even more disturbing, rapturist teaching turns The Apocalypse into a virtual maze of symbols and events that confuse Christians to the point of exasperation. The average Christian decides that this book is not understandable and so decides not to study it. In so doing, he misses out on a blessing: “Blessed is he who keeps the words of the prophecy of this book” (22:7). How can Christians hope to adhere to this book’s prophetic message when they quail at even opening it? In the process, they lose the opportunity to hear St. John’s vision of the Church’s message, nature, and mission.

We are now ready to answer the original question of this book. Will you, or I, be “left behind” the next time Jesus comes? The only biblical answer is an unequivocal no. Christ
will
come again, but all of us will experience it, believer and unbeliever alike. It will be glorious. It will be final. It will be accompanied by the final judgment. When it happens, some might want to be left behind, but all will be included: some to everlasting life and bliss, and some not.

This is a message of hope for the Church. From our perspective, the first nineteen chapters of The Apocalypse have already been historically fulfilled. This should give us solid assurance that the one chapter still future really will take place. The ninety-five-percent down payment has already been fulfilled as predicted. This should give us confidence in the five-percent promise yet to come.

“Amen. Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus” (22:20).

If you have stuck with our investigation thus far, you may have come to the same conclusion as I have: although the rapturist position here in the United States has many adherents, it has no adequate biblical basis. Why, then, does this position continue to enjoy such wide popularity?

Granted, some people believe in a secret rapture because they have been misled about what the Bible actually teaches. They are committed to something that they have been taught to be true, but have never objectively examined. But I believe there are other reasons that explain some believers’ unshakable adherence to this system of theology. Here are a few that I have observed in my experience.

Three of the factors that makes rapturist theology appealing to Americans are more psychological than theological.

Rapturism allows for “comfortable pessimism”; that is, it gives people a positive response to the evil we witness in the world today. Belief in an imminent rapture is a very simple, comforting filter through which to view life. It lends meaning to current events. For example, when the World Trade Center was destroyed on September 11, 2001, a close rapturist friend informed me that this was a fulfillment of Chapter 18 of The Apocalypse, when Babylon is to be burned in an hour and its destruction mourned by the merchants. Another rapturist pointed to that horrific event and implied that I should take comfort that the end was near.

When anything bad happens, the rapturist can say, “Well, we all know that things will get worse and worse just before Christ raptures us away. It is obvious the end is near, but at least we won’t be here to suffer through it.” The belief system of rapturists allows them to take a certain comfort in the face of evil. For when things really deteriorate into chaos, they expect to be safely tucked away in Heaven.

There is a problem with this approach to life, however. It may comfort the person witnessing suffering, but it does absolutely nothing positive for the person
experiencing
the suffering. This theology is appealing only as long as the pain is someone else’s.

Some observers have linked the attraction of comfortable pessimism to the Great Depression and to the horrors of World War II. These events turned many Americans of that generation into latent pessimists. The idea that they would be the ones to witness the apocalyptic end of this world seemed completely in line, on a cosmic level, with their experience of evil. Many of the institutions that promote rapturist theology today were founded and expanded by this generation.

The system continues to appeal to new generations of Americans because of the despair that is so prevalent in our culture. Rapturism is a natural spiritual home for those who think the world is careening out of control. To a large extent, they can keep their basic outlook of despair, but remain able to cope on a daily basis.

This basic pessimism also helps explain the relative political inactivity of this group of Christians. Darby himself understood that his new theology left no room for political involvement. He claimed that “it is absolutely necessary that we should renounce everything.” He believed that this world and its governmental systems are evil.

Darby taught that this world is irrelevant to the future of committed Christians, because they will be raptured out of its problems. He told his followers, “We do not mix in politics; we are not of the world” (
WRI
, II:44). Early rapturists even refused to vote. Although this has certainly changed, modern rapturist preachers emphasize the imminent judgment of this world by asking, “Why polish the brass on a sinking ship?” They do not believe this world is worth improving. They believe that a Christian’s goal is to hang on until Christ raptures him away, while attempting to take as many with him as possible.

This mindset may explain a peculiar phenomenon that has puzzled some political commentators here in the United States. Fundamentalist Protestants have been unable to keep any political institution viable and active for any extended period. Jerry Falwell’s Moral Majority was a dynamic force on the political scene for a decade, and then it virtually disappeared. Pat Robertson and Ralph Reed were connected with the Christian Coalition, which was a force to be reckoned with for another decade. Yet no Fundamentalist organization has been able to remain a force for much longer, even during the heyday of rapturist theology in the last quarter of the twentieth century. Is it because the theology that lies beneath these organizations cannot sustain political activity? This seems at least possible.

At the same time, the freedom—even the command—to reject political responsibility can be appealing. If you are tired of hearing sermons on social justice or on the Christian community’s responsibility to change the culture for Christ, then a rapturist Church can seem like paradise—although a pessimists’ paradise to be sure.

There is a serious problem underlying all of this, however. While the hope of a rapture allows rapturists to cope with tragedy, it also saddles them with a non-Christian view of the world. Quite simply, the rapturist system contains no Cross. Although some rapturists do not hold to it, by its very nature this theology is closely allied to the “health and wealth” gospel. This is the idea that, since Christ suffered on the Cross for us, Christians need never suffer again. These Christians believe that God wants our lives on earth to be free from any hardship and overflowing with material goods. The presence of these material blessings is evidence of one’s high spiritual estate, and the absence of them is evidence of a lack of faith.

While the appeal of this idea is obvious, it is absolutely antithetical to the teaching of our Savior. Jesus never promised us a rose garden because of His suffering. In fact, He promised us our own Gethsemane. Jesus taught that any follower of His must “deny himself and take up his cross daily” (Luke 9:23). He called us to His Cross, and then showed us how to carry our own crosses for God.