Roadtoad
Bufo Caminus Inedibilis
This serves as a painful reminder of a story I heard some time ago.
I guess it was around '84, there was a student at Pacific Coast Bible College who was very worried about what might happen to him in the event of a Rapture. He was almost obsessed with such a thing, and was pestering his dorm mates about it, trying to find answers in the Bible.
A friend of mine who was there at the time told me that he got back to the dorm after a date, only to find clothing in piles here and there in the hallway of the dorm. An electric razor was sitting on a basin, still running. TVs were left on, and throughout the building was evidence that in the blink of an eye, everyone had been taken away! In his mind, the Rapture had occurred, and he was left behind.
Anyway, he wound up calling the Dean of Men in a panic, bordering on a complete breakdown. The Dean came down trying to comfort this poor kid, but according to our (now former) friend, he couldn't be helped. He wound up going home from school, from what I understand, much to the amusement of his classmates.
I have found discussions of the Rapture to be very cruel. It is no longer an emblem of the hope Christians have, but rather, it's a shibboleth, used to weed out the "worthy" from the "unworthy," the BMOCs from the Nerds. It emphasizes the whole point that the Church has become based in Fear, rather than in anything resembling hope.
My son, Jon, (Digital Hoser), has returned to church, but now wonders why. His complaint is that it's become a rock concert on Sundays, the message is lost in a flurry of platitudes, and it's become nothing, save for a waste of time and space. Instead of strengthening his faith, he's questioning it. On the one hand, it's good: he's looking for answers. On the other, I know the disappointment he's feeling, and just how big a let-down he's in for. It's part of the reason Peggy no longer wants to attend a church service, simply because she doesn't fit in with people who want to be pandered to. To her mind, Church should "Comfort the Afflicted, and Afflict the Comfortable."
I think what I find so offensive about discussions of the Rapture is that it has come to center not on a life of service and self-sacrifice, but on just how much sin you can get away with and still pull one over on God. If that's your goal, it seems to me you're no better than an Atheist like me, so what good is your "witness"?
In the end, why waste my time with any of it?
I'm reminded of my uncle, a driver for Greyhound. Mel Ethington was not a Christian; he was instead a devout Mormon. In many ways, I tried to find what it was he had, even as I found I could not accept the vast majority of what the Mormon Church taught was its canon. My uncle had his moments of selfishness, of conceit, of arrogance, but he also admitted his failings, and tried to amend his behavior, even as he made amends to others for them.
He had an unparalleled safety record, and a good nature that, from what people who knew him have told me, made him a genuine treasure to his employer. He and my aunt briefly left Greyhound to run a business of their own, which was quite successful, but ultimately, he returned to driving buses, which he did until his retirement. From what I've heard from other Greyhound employees, he was a credit to the company, and to his church.
I learned the hard way just how rare a man my uncle was, both within the Christian Church, and within the Mormon Church. For that matter, had he chosen to reject his faith, he'd have been a good man as an Atheist, too, simply because he recognized that being a good man crossed all lines. He earned the respect of nearly everyone who met him.
He died in August. I'm still not sure how to respond to that. I'd like to think that a just god would look at his character and welcome him, rather than condemning him for not having recited the right words the right way at the right time. I'd like to think he'd be recognized for treating his fellow man with respect, rather than degrading people because they didn't fit his preconceived notions of what made a person "worthy."
Which, of course, is why I'm so bothered about what happened at Pacific Coast. A young man's faith was mocked, his concerns, which should have been addressed by his fellow students and assuaged, was turned into a wedge, and he was driven from the school. If I had to guess, he was probably also driven from faith in the end, which in one sense, was probably a good thing. I'd hate to have seen him become the kind of pastor his thuggish classmates have likely become.
Just as well; when this next "Rapture" date comes and goes, more will leave a life of Faith in search of a life of Truth and Fact. I call that a gain.
I guess it was around '84, there was a student at Pacific Coast Bible College who was very worried about what might happen to him in the event of a Rapture. He was almost obsessed with such a thing, and was pestering his dorm mates about it, trying to find answers in the Bible.
A friend of mine who was there at the time told me that he got back to the dorm after a date, only to find clothing in piles here and there in the hallway of the dorm. An electric razor was sitting on a basin, still running. TVs were left on, and throughout the building was evidence that in the blink of an eye, everyone had been taken away! In his mind, the Rapture had occurred, and he was left behind.
Anyway, he wound up calling the Dean of Men in a panic, bordering on a complete breakdown. The Dean came down trying to comfort this poor kid, but according to our (now former) friend, he couldn't be helped. He wound up going home from school, from what I understand, much to the amusement of his classmates.
I have found discussions of the Rapture to be very cruel. It is no longer an emblem of the hope Christians have, but rather, it's a shibboleth, used to weed out the "worthy" from the "unworthy," the BMOCs from the Nerds. It emphasizes the whole point that the Church has become based in Fear, rather than in anything resembling hope.
My son, Jon, (Digital Hoser), has returned to church, but now wonders why. His complaint is that it's become a rock concert on Sundays, the message is lost in a flurry of platitudes, and it's become nothing, save for a waste of time and space. Instead of strengthening his faith, he's questioning it. On the one hand, it's good: he's looking for answers. On the other, I know the disappointment he's feeling, and just how big a let-down he's in for. It's part of the reason Peggy no longer wants to attend a church service, simply because she doesn't fit in with people who want to be pandered to. To her mind, Church should "Comfort the Afflicted, and Afflict the Comfortable."
I think what I find so offensive about discussions of the Rapture is that it has come to center not on a life of service and self-sacrifice, but on just how much sin you can get away with and still pull one over on God. If that's your goal, it seems to me you're no better than an Atheist like me, so what good is your "witness"?
In the end, why waste my time with any of it?
I'm reminded of my uncle, a driver for Greyhound. Mel Ethington was not a Christian; he was instead a devout Mormon. In many ways, I tried to find what it was he had, even as I found I could not accept the vast majority of what the Mormon Church taught was its canon. My uncle had his moments of selfishness, of conceit, of arrogance, but he also admitted his failings, and tried to amend his behavior, even as he made amends to others for them.
He had an unparalleled safety record, and a good nature that, from what people who knew him have told me, made him a genuine treasure to his employer. He and my aunt briefly left Greyhound to run a business of their own, which was quite successful, but ultimately, he returned to driving buses, which he did until his retirement. From what I've heard from other Greyhound employees, he was a credit to the company, and to his church.
I learned the hard way just how rare a man my uncle was, both within the Christian Church, and within the Mormon Church. For that matter, had he chosen to reject his faith, he'd have been a good man as an Atheist, too, simply because he recognized that being a good man crossed all lines. He earned the respect of nearly everyone who met him.
He died in August. I'm still not sure how to respond to that. I'd like to think that a just god would look at his character and welcome him, rather than condemning him for not having recited the right words the right way at the right time. I'd like to think he'd be recognized for treating his fellow man with respect, rather than degrading people because they didn't fit his preconceived notions of what made a person "worthy."
Which, of course, is why I'm so bothered about what happened at Pacific Coast. A young man's faith was mocked, his concerns, which should have been addressed by his fellow students and assuaged, was turned into a wedge, and he was driven from the school. If I had to guess, he was probably also driven from faith in the end, which in one sense, was probably a good thing. I'd hate to have seen him become the kind of pastor his thuggish classmates have likely become.
Just as well; when this next "Rapture" date comes and goes, more will leave a life of Faith in search of a life of Truth and Fact. I call that a gain.
