Four years ago, I saw a bumper sticker that stated, “When the Rapture happens, can I have your car?” I found it blasphemous at the time. Of course, back then, I was a God-fearing, church-going hypocrite like many who profess themselves to be “people of faith.”
Now, just a little under twelve hours before what many crazed people claim to be the End of Days, when the righteous, chosen 3% of the world’s population will supposedly be lifted up to heaven while those left behind are said to then face seven years of extreme trials and tribulations– including eventually dealing with the so-called Antichrist– I can’t help but find the humor in all of it.
Even further back in the day, I became obsessed with a literary series called “Left Behind”, an epic tale about the people who weren’t lucky enough to have been Raptured, and the situations they had to endure before the final days. There were sixteen or seventeen books altogether that it almost read like another bible. I was at once fascinated and terrified as I immersed myself in the authors’ fantastical work, and, convinced I will be among the unlucky who will indeed be left behind, began concocting survival schemes in my head when The Rapture comes to be.
Fast forward to today, when what many Christians would immediately label me as “wayward,” someone who has “lost his faith,” I laugh at reading about all these people who are rejoicing about and preparing for the Rapture that’s predicted to happen today, May 21st, 2011, at 6pm local time. “For reals” this time. Like the past predictions of the our demise– at one point to happen in 1999, and let’s not forget about December 2012– were clearly erroneous, and that we should really be ready for this one.
And I wonder: How many churches will be filled to the hilt tonight? How many “lost souls” will suddenly “find faith?” There are already reports of people stocking up as if for a nuclear fallout. It’s just nuts.
Tonight, at 7pm, I’m attending a “Rapture Party,” surrounded by like-minded realists who find the ridiculousness in all this. We’ll be reveling in each other’s company while not having the slightest worry.
But, I’m not going to kid myself. Before then, I know I’ll still have 6pm on my mind, and will be on the lookout for people to magically disappear around me, leaving all but piles of their clothes behind. And I’m going to sit back and watch the world go to shit.
I would hate to be wrong about this whole Rapture thing, but in the unlikely event that it does come to pass, at least it would be a great reason to drink again. This self-imposed sobriety has cramped my style.