The Left Behind Collection: All 12 Books (44 page)

“I want to take the extra time this morning because I feel an urgency greater even than the last few weeks. I don’t want you to worry about me. I haven’t become a wild-eyed madman, a cultist, or anything other than what I have been since I realized I had missed the Rapture.

“I have told my closest advisers that God has weighed heavily upon me this week, and they are praying with me that I will be wise and discerning, that I will not go off half-cocked and shooting at some new and strange doctrine. I have read more, prayed more, and studied more this week than ever, and I am eager to tell you what God has told me.

“Does God speak to me audibly? No. I wish he would. I wish he had. If he had, I probably would not be here today. But he wanted me to accept him by faith, not by his proving himself in some more dramatic way than simply sending his Son to die for me. He has left us his Word, and it gives us all we need to know.”

Buck felt a lump in his throat as he watched his new friend beg and plead and cajole his listeners to hear, to understand, to make themselves available to God for the instruction God wanted them to have. Bruce told his own story yet again, how he had lived a phony life of pietism and churchianity for years, and how when God came to call, he had been found wanting and had been left behind, without his wife and precious children. Buck had heard the story more than once, yet it never failed to move him. Some sobbed aloud. Those hearing it for the first time got Bruce’s abbreviated version. “I never want to stop telling what Christ has done for me,” he said. “Tell your stories. People can identify with your grief and your loss and your loneliness. I will never again be ashamed of the gospel of Christ. The Bible says that the Cross offends. If you are offended, I am doing my job. If you are attracted to Christ, the Spirit is doing his work.

“We’ve already missed the Rapture, and now we live in what will soon become the most perilous period of history. Evangelists used to warn parishioners that they could be struck by a car or die in a fire and thus they should not put off coming to Christ. I’m telling you that should you be struck by a car or caught in a fire, it may be the most merciful way you can die. Be ready this time. Be ready. I will tell you how to get ready.

“My sermon title today is ‘The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse,’ and I want to concentrate on the first, the rider of the white horse. If you’ve always thought the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse was a Notre Dame football backfield, God has a lesson for you today.”

Buck had never seen Bruce so earnest, so inspired. As he spoke he referred to his notes, to the reference books, to the Bible. He began to perspire and often wiped sweat from his brow with his pocket handkerchief, which he took time to admit he knew was a faux pas. It seemed to Buck that the congregants, as one, merely chuckled with him as encouragement to keep on. Most were taking notes. Nearly everyone followed along in a Bible, their own or one provided in the pews.

Bruce explained that the book of Revelation, John’s account of what God had revealed to him about the last days, spoke of what was to come after Christ had raptured his church. “Does anyone here doubt we’re in the last days right now?” he thundered. “Millions disappear, and then what? Then what?”

Bruce explained that the Bible predicts first a treaty between a world leader and Israel. “Some believe the seven-year tribulation period has already begun and that it began with the Rapture. We feel the trials and tribulations already from the disappearance of millions, including our friends and loved ones, don’t we? But that is nothing compared to the tribulation to come.

“During these seven years, God will pour out three consecutive sets of judgments—seven seals in a scroll, which we call the Seal Judgments; seven trumpets; and seven bowls. These judgments, I believe, are handed down for the purposes of shaking us loose from whatever shred of security we might have left. If the Rapture didn’t get your attention, the judgments will. And if the judgments don’t, you’re going to die apart from God. Horrible as these judgments will be, I urge you to see them as final warnings from a loving God who is not willing that any should perish.

“As the scroll is opened and the seals are broken, revealing the judgments, the first four are represented by horsemen—the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. If you have ever been exposed to such imagery and language before, you probably considered it only symbolic, as I did. Is there anyone here who still considers the prophetic teaching of Scripture mere symbolism?”

Bruce waited a dramatic moment. “I thought not. Heed this teaching. The Seal Judgments will take us about twenty-one months from the signing of the treaty with Israel. In the coming weeks I will teach about the fourteen remaining judgments that will carry us through the end of the seven-year period, but for now, let’s concentrate on the first four of the seven seals.”

As Bruce plunged ahead, Buck was struck that the last speaker he had heard who was so captivating was Nicolae Carpathia. But Carpathia’s impression had been choreographed, manipulated. Bruce wasn’t trying to impress anyone with anything but the truth of the Word of God. Would he tell this body that he believed he knew who the Antichrist was? In a way Buck hoped he would. But that might be considered slander, to publicly finger someone as the archenemy of almighty God.

Or would Bruce simply tell what the Bible said and let the people come to their own conclusions? The news was already full of rumors about some impending agreement between Carpathia—or at least the Carpathia-led U.N.—and Israel. If Bruce predicted a pact that was borne out over the next few days, who could doubt him?

Rayford was more than fascinated. He was stunned. In many ways, Bruce was reading his mind. Not long ago he would have scoffed at such teaching, at such a literal take on so clearly a poetic and metaphoric passage. But what Bruce said made sense. The young man hadn’t been preaching more than a few weeks. That had not been his calling or his training. But this wasn’t preaching as much as teaching, and Bruce’s passion, the immersion of his soul into the subject, made it all the more compelling.

“I don’t have time to get into the second and third and fourth horsemen this morning,” Bruce said, “except to say that the rider on the red horse signifies war, the black horse famine, and the pale horse death. Just a little something to look forward to,” he added wryly, and some chuckled nervously. “But I warned you this is not for the faint of heart.”

He sped toward his point and his conclusion by reading from Revelation 6:1-2: “Now I saw when the Lamb opened one of the seals; and I heard one of the four living creatures saying with a voice like thunder, ‘Come and see.’ And I looked, and behold, a white horse. He who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering and to conquer.”

Bruce dramatically moved back a step and began clearing off the small lectern. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’m not finished.” To Rayford’s surprise, people began to applaud. Bruce said, “Are you clapping because you want me to finish, or because you want me to go on all afternoon?”

And the people clapped all the more. Rayford wondered what was happening. He applauded too, and Chloe and Buck were doing the same. They were drinking this in, and they wanted more and more. Clearly Bruce had been in tune with what God was showing him. He had said over and over that this was not new truth, that the commentaries he cited were decades old, and that the doctrine of the end times was much, much older than that. But those who had relegated this kind of teaching to the literalists, the fundamentalists, the closed-minded evangelicals, had been left behind. All of a sudden it was all right to take Scripture at its word! If nothing else convinced people, losing so many to the Rapture finally reached them.

Bruce stood before the bare lectern now with only his Bible in his hand. “I want to tell you now what I believe the Bible is saying about the rider of the white horse, the first horseman of the Apocalypse. I will not give my opinion. I will not draw any conclusion. I will simply leave it to God to help you draw any parallels that need to be drawn. I will tell you only this in advance: This millenniums-old account reads as fresh to me as tomorrow’s newspaper.”

Buck sat in the pew behind Rayford and Chloe Steele and glanced at his watch. More than an hour had flown by since he had last checked. His stomach told him he was hungry, or at least that he could eat. His mind told him he could sit there all day, listening to Bruce Barnes explain from the Bible what was happening today and what would happen tomorrow. His heart told him he was on a precipice. He knew where Bruce was going with this teaching, with this imagery from the book of Revelation. Not only did he know who the rider of the white horse was, Buck knew the rider personally. He had experienced the power of the Antichrist.

Buck had spent enough time with Bruce and the Steeles, poring over the passages, to know beyond doubt that Nicolae Carpathia embodied the enemy of God. And yet he could not jump to his feet and corroborate Bruce’s message with his own account. Neither could Bruce reveal that he knew precisely who the Antichrist was, or that someone in this very church had met him.

For years Buck had been an inveterate name-dropper. He had run in high circles for so long that it was not uncommon for him to be able to say, “Met him,” “Interviewed her,” “Know him,” “Was with her in Paris,” “Stayed in their home.”

But that self-centeredness had been swept away by the disappearances and his experiences on the front lines of supernatural events. The old Buck Williams would have welcomed the prospect of letting on that he was a personal acquaintance of not only the leading personality in the world, but also the very Antichrist foretold in Scripture. Now he simply sat riveted as his friend preached on.

“Let me clarify,” Bruce was saying, “that I don’t believe it is God’s intent to convey individual personality through the imagery of these horsemen, but rather world conditions. They don’t all refer to specific people, because, for instance, the fourth horseman is called Death.

“Ah, but the first horseman! Notice that it is the Lamb who opens the first seal and reveals that horseman. The Lamb is Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who died for our sins, was resurrected, and recently raptured his church.

“In Scripture the first in a succession is always important—the firstborn, the first day of the week, the first commandment. The first rider, the first of the four horses of the first seven judgments, is important! He sets the tone. He is the key to understanding the rest of the horsemen, the rest of the Seal Judgments, indeed, the rest of all of the judgments.

“Who is this first horseman? Clearly he represents the Antichrist and his kingdom. His purpose is ‘conquering and to conquer.’ He has a bow in his hand, a symbol of aggressive warfare, and yet there is no mention of an arrow. So how will he conquer? Other passages indicate that he is a ‘willful king’ and that he will triumph through diplomacy. He will usher in a false peace, promising world unity. Will he be victorious? Yes! He has a crown.”

In one way, this was all new to Rayford, and he knew it was to Chloe as well. But they had been so immersed in this teaching with Bruce since they had come to faith in Christ that Rayford anticipated every detail. It seemed he was becoming an instant expert, and he could not recall having ever picked up on a subject so quickly. He had always been a good student, especially in science and math. He had been a quick study in aviation. But this was cosmic. This was life. This was the real world. It explained what had happened to his wife and son, what he and his daughter would endure, and what would happen tomorrow and for the next several years.

Rayford admired Bruce. The young man had instantly realized that his phony brand of Christianity had failed him at the most pivotal point in human history. He had immediately repented and dedicated himself to the task of rescuing everyone possible. Bruce Barnes had surrendered himself to the cause.

Under other circumstances, Rayford might have worried about Bruce, fearing he was wearing himself out, stretching himself too thin. But Bruce seemed energized, fulfilled. He would need more sleep, sure, but for now he was brimming with the truth and eager to share it. And if the others were like Rayford, they could think of nothing they would rather do than sit here under that instruction.

“We’ll talk next week and following about the next three horsemen of the Apocalypse,” Bruce was saying, “but let me just leave you with something to watch for. The rider of the white horse is the Antichrist, who comes as a deceiver promising peace and uniting the world. The Old Testament book of Daniel—chapter 9, verses 24 through 27—says he will sign a treaty with Israel.

“He will appear to be their friend and protector, but in the end he will be their conqueror and destroyer. I must close for this week, but we’ll talk more about why this happens and what will come of it. Let me close by telling you how you can be sure
I
am not the Antichrist.”

That got people’s attention, including Rayford’s. There was embarrassed laughter.

“I’m not implying that you suspect me,” Bruce said, to more laughs. “But we may get to the point where every leader is suspect. Remember, however, that you will never hear peace promised from this pulpit. The Bible is clear that we will have perhaps a year and a half of peace following the pact with Israel. But in the long run, I predict the opposite of peace. The other three horsemen are coming, and they bring war, famine, plagues, and death. That is not a popular message, not a warm fuzzy you can cling to this week. Our only hope is in Christ, and even in him we will likely suffer. See you next week.”

Rayford sensed a restlessness in the crowd as Bruce closed in prayer, as if others felt the same way he did. He wanted to hear more, and he had a million questions. Usually the organist began playing near the end of Bruce’s prayer and Bruce immediately headed to the back of the church where he shook hands with people as they left. But today Bruce didn’t get as far as the aisle before he was stopped by people who embraced him, thanked him, and began asking questions.

Rayford and Chloe were in one of the rows closest to the front, and though Rayford was aware that Buck was talking to Chloe, he also heard what people were asking Bruce.

“Are you saying that Nicolae Carpathia is the Antichrist?” one asked.

“Did you hear me say that?” Bruce said.

“No, but it was pretty clear. They’re already talking on the news about his plans and some sort of deal with Israel.”

“Keep reading and studying,” Bruce said.

“But it can’t be Carpathia, can it? Does he strike you as a liar?”

“How does he strike you?” Bruce said.

“As a savior.”

“Almost like a messiah?” Bruce pressed.

“Yeah!”

“There is only one Savior, one Messiah.”

“I know, spiritually, but politically I mean. Don’t tell me Carpathia’s not what he seems to be.”

“I’ll tell you only what Scripture says,” Bruce said, “and I will urge you to listen carefully to the news. We must be wise as serpents and gentle as doves.”

“That’s how I would have described Carpathia,” a woman said.

“Be careful,” Bruce said, “about ascribing Christlike attributes to anyone who doesn’t align himself with Christ.”

As the service ended, Buck took Chloe’s arm, but she seemed less responsive than he might have hoped. She turned slowly to see what he wanted, and her expression bore no sign of that expectant look she’d had Friday night. Clearly, he had somehow wounded her. “I’m sure you’re wondering what I was calling about,” he began.

“I figured you’d tell me eventually.”

“I just wondered if you wanted to see my new place.” He told her where it was. “Maybe you could drop over late tomorrow morning and see it, and then we could get some lunch.”

“I don’t know,” Chloe said. “I don’t think I can do lunch, but if I’m over that way maybe I’ll stop by.”

“OK.” Buck was deflated. Apparently it wasn’t going to be difficult to let her down gently. It certainly wasn’t going to break her heart.

As Chloe slipped into the crowd, Rayford reached to shake Buck’s hand. “So how are you, my friend?”

“I’m doing all right,” Buck said. “Getting settled in.”

A question gnawed at Rayford. He looked at the ceiling and then back at Buck. In his peripheral vision he saw hundreds of people milling about, wanting their individual moments with Bruce Barnes. “Buck, let me ask you something. Do you ever regret introducing Hattie Durham to Carpathia?”

Buck pressed his lips together and shut his eyes, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. “Every day,” he whispered. “I was just talking to Bruce about that.”

Rayford nodded and knelt on the pew seat, facing Buck. Buck sat. “I wondered,” Rayford said. “I have a lot of regrets about her. We were friends, you know. Coworkers, but friends, too.”

“I gathered,” Buck said.

“We never had a relationship or anything like that,” Rayford assured him. “But I find myself caring about what happens to her.”

“I hear she’s taken a thirty-day leave of absence from Pan-Con.”

“Yeah,” Rayford said, “but that’s just window dressing. You know Carpathia’s going to want to keep her around, and he’ll find the money to pay her more than she’s making with us.”

“No doubt.”

“She’s got to be enamored of the job, not to mention him. And who knows where that relationship might go?”

“Like Bruce says, I don’t think he hired her for her brain,” Buck said.

Rayford nodded. So they agreed. Hattie Durham was going to become one of Carpathia’s diversions. If there had ever been hope for her soul, it would be remote as long as she was in his orbit every day.

“I worry about her,” Rayford continued, “and yet because of our friendship I don’t feel I’m in a position to warn her. She was one of the first people I tried to tell about Christ. She was not receptive. Before that I had implied more of an interest in her than I had a right to have, and naturally she’s not real positive about me just now.”

Buck leaned forward. “Maybe I’ll get a chance to talk to Hattie sometime soon.”

“But what will you say?” Rayford asked. “For all we know they may already be intimate. She’ll tell him everything she knows. If she tells him you’ve become a believer and that you’re trying to rescue her, he’ll know he had no impact on your mind when he was brainwashing everyone else.”

Buck nodded. “I’ve thought about that. But I feel responsible for her being there. I
am
responsible for her being there. We can pray for her, but I’m going to feel pretty useless if I can’t do something concrete to get her out of there. We’ve got to get her back here where she can learn the truth.”

“I wonder if she’s already moved to New York,” Rayford said. “Maybe we’ll find a reason for Chloe to call her apartment in Des Plaines.”

As they separated and made their way out of the church, Rayford began wondering how much he should encourage the relationship between Chloe and Buck. He liked Buck a lot, what little he knew of him. He believed him, trusted him, considered him a brother. He was bright and insightful for a young guy. But the idea that his daughter might date or even fall in love with a man on speaking terms with the Antichrist . . . it was too much to fathom. He would have to be frank with them both about it, if it appeared their relationship was going anywhere.