Ben gave us armchair theologians a call-to-arms on this Rod Dreher piece on premillennial eschatology.
In 1980, I was 13 years old, and someone had given me a copy of Hal Lindsey's mega-selling The Late Great Planet Earth to read. The Soviets were in Afghanistan, the American hostages were in Tehran, I had become fixated on the fear of nuclear war and — suddenly, thanks to Late Great, the chaos all made sense. There was no need to be afraid. This was all part of God's plan. Accept Jesus as your personal savior, and you wouldn't have to suffer through the worst of what was to come, for you would be spirited away in the Rapture. And if you didn't — well, too bad for you when the Antichrist comes knocking.
In 1980, I was 18 years old, and my college roommate had a copy. I didn't come to the Lord at that time, but knew that I'd have my nose in the Bible taking it seriously if the Rapure did occur.
The premillenial Rapture is the belief, held by many Protestant Christians, that believers will, "in the twinkling of an eye," be taken body and soul into heaven to meet Jesus Christ — this, just as the world is on the brink of seven years of unprecedented suffering and strife, preceding the Second Coming and the end of history. If you think the end of the world is upon us, it's easy to see why believing you won't have to suffer the worst of it would be calming. On the other hand, you might exchange one set of fears for another. When I was in Late Great's grip, I would wake up every morning in a mild state of panic, wondering if the Rapture had happened while you were sleeping, and I'd been … left behind!
Let's do a quick review. Many scriptures point towards a thousand-year era of church rule on the planet; postmillennialists think that that rule will evolve from a complete evangelization of the earth and that mortals will be in charge for that period; Jesus' return will come at the end of the period. Premillennialists point to passages that argue for Jesus' coming and establishing his kingdom and being in charge for that millennial period. You will also see people who don't buy either argument; they are typically called amillennialists, a subset of that is the preterist school of though that many of the verses that both millennialist camps look at have already occurred in history.
A common premillennialist theme will have a seven-year tribulation period, where the world will go to hell in a hand basket led by a one-world government of the Antichrist. At the end of the seven-years, Jesus will come to kick butt and take names and establish His kingdom. Somewhere in that tribulation period, the true believers will be raptured, or physically raised, to Heaven and return when Jesus comes back to reign. Typically this rapture will occur at the beginning of the tribulation (pre-trib) period, although some premillennialists will hold to a mid-trib rapture. Both The Late Great Planet Earth and the Left Behind series have a pre-millennial, pre-trib eschatology.
I don't believe in the premillennial Rapture anymore, but it's easy to see why so many people want to. For Christians and others whose religious beliefs predict an apocalyptic final act (even Islam and the New Age have their own versions), these days are unusually anxious. It isn't difficult to find in today's headlines — wars, rumors of wars, natural disasters, plagues, religious strife and technology run amok — evidence for the belief that history is quickening toward some sort of climax.
I still lean towards a premillennial Rapture, although I'm a bit of a mugwump on the details. However, knowing that God's in control of this mess allows people to be less anxious than otherwise.
No wonder, then, that the same sensational theological teachings that excited believers in the 1970s and earlier are more popular than ever. The Left Behind fiction series, whose title refers to those who weren't raptured before the Apocalypse, may well be the best-selling Christian books of all time, not counting the Bible.
I'd think that
Pilgrim's Progress would nudge out
Left Behind, but the new kid's moving hard on the outside. I'm going to have to take him to task for some factual liberties here
Given the amount of popular publicity given to the Rapture and its attendant doctrines, it may surprise (and disappoint) many Christians to learn that this set of beliefs, generally called "dispensationalism," is not explicitly taught by the Bible, nor has ever been widely held by Christians.
I'll agree with him that it's not explicitly taught in the Bible, for if it were, it would have a greater following among evangelicals and others who take the Bible at face value. However, you can play a lot of games with "widely held." Dispensational thought has a large following in Baptist and other evangelical circles in the last century-plus; it is a cornerstone of most capital-f Fundamentalist (before the term got hijacked to mean anyone who took their faith too seriously) theology. I'd guess that about 15-20% of churches are dispensationalist to varying degrees and make up something of a plurality of evangelical thought.
In fact, neither Roman Catholicism nor Eastern Orthodoxy, which together include most of the world's Christians who live now and who have ever lived, profess dispensationalist eschatology (which means the study of the End Times). The Rapture is also alien to the historical Protestant confessions (as this story from a Baptist newspaper makes clear). Martin Luther had never heard of such a thing, nor had John Calvin, Ulrich Zwingli, or any other Protestant divine until a pair of 19th-century British small-sect pastors developed the notion apparently independent of each other. One of the men, John Nelson Darby, traveled widely in North America between 1859 and 1874, where his dispensationalist teachings spread like wildfire. (For a more detailed explanation of this theology from a dispensationalist viewpoint, go here and here)
Dreher rightly points out that the early church thinkers tended to be either amillennial or post-millennial and that contemporary premillennial thought is a creature of the last 200 years; premillennialism tends to have a bigger home in the newer evangelical denominations than it does in the traditional European-born mainline denominations. Most mainline Protestant and Catholic churches do not address eschatology (end-times-ology) and thus create a de facto amillennial worldview. However, he continues (as he did
in this piece in April) to lump all premillennialists as dispensationalists. While dispensationalists (different verses are relevant only for certain eras of history) are generally premillennialists, not all premillennialists buy into dispensationalist theory. As I mentioned back in April, I've been in a lot of evangelical churches of various stripes who are premillennialist without being dispensationalist. Please note that I am
not a dispensationalist, but have a healthy respect for those who are.
This paragraph shows some anti-evangelical biases
Given world events, particularly in the Middle East and Europe, the dispensationalist fire continues to roar among Christians, who understandably want to know if today's headlines can be explained and tomorrow's headlines can be predicted from ancient Scripture. Unfortunately, many Christians are under the impression that dispensationalist teaching — on Christianity's theological fringe, historically speaking — is the first and last word on the matter. Most Catholic priests, as well as their mainline Protestant counterparts, downplay or ignore their congregations' natural — and sociologically predictable — interest in the End Times, leaving lay believers open to instruction by those who, however misguided, take it seriously. That's why Paul Thigpen, a Yale-trained religious historian and Catholic convert, wrote The Rapture Trap.
It is a minority position to be sure, but calling it the
theological fringe sounds a lot like liberals bashing the "religious right." Dreher's use of Pentecostal-turned-Catholic Paul Thigpen as his spokesman has some built-in biases, such as the tendency to look at any new denomination as something of a cult
"I began to see so many Catholics taken in by this Left Behind stuff, because they've had no religious instruction in eschatology," Thigpen tells NRO. "In so many parishes the homilies are like, 'Love your neighbor, be nice.' If priests never get around to talking about who Jesus is, there's no way they're ever going to get around to talking about the Second Coming."
Though he writes from a Catholic perspective, Thigpen, an ex-Pentecostal and former editor of Charisma magazine [a major monthly for Pentecostals /Charismatics-my dad subscribes to it-MB], takes care to demonstrate in the book how none of the leaders of the Reformation believed in the Rapture. He says the "historical myopia" of American culture leaves people vulnerable to those who can exploit ignorance of the past with convincing presentations of vivid theologies. Besides, America has always been fertile ground for apocalyptic religion.
"In the early days, the Puritans thought the Kingdom of God would start in North America, in their colony," Thigpen says. "We have several large denominations in America, such as the Jehovah's Witnesses, who owe their existence to millennial fervor."
The Puritans, if I recall correctly, were postmillennial in that they were trying to establish that city on a hill for the world to emulate. There were plenty of millennial groups looking for the imminent return of the Lord in the 1800's, such as the Jehovah's Witnesses, who have a century-long track record of false predictions of the Second Coming to add to their other heresies. This seems more guilt by association than a serious assessment of what is wrong with premillennial eschatology.
Eschatalogically-focused expressions of faith have swelled in popularity during times of social distress and dislocation, such as after the Civil War, and during the period of rapid industrialization and immigration. There was another great surge of it following World War II, says Thigpen, and again in the 1970s, as a reaction to countercultural upheaval. The dispensationalist apologetic The Late Great Planet Earth was the best-selling nonfiction book of the decade, and though he has never apologized for his erroneous predictions in that book, author Hal Lindsey continues to be considered by many an authority on Biblical prophecy. Being a dispensationalist evangelist means never having to say you're sorry.
One thing that prompted a surge in premillennial thinking post-WWII was the birth of Israel; prior to this, the eschatological scriptures referring to Israel were just theory, now they could come true at any time. The success of Israel in the wars of 1967 and 1973 might have aided to the premillennialist arsenal as the world was headed to hell-in-a-hand-basket with the amorality of the 60s and 70s.
I don't take Lindsey's details seriously, nor do most modern premillennialists. Much of his chronology has been overtaken by events. However, his book did popularize the premillennialist cause among the general public; my roommate during the summer of 1980 wasn't a dispensationalist; he was a Dungeons & Dragons loving secularist who had frequent sleepovers with his girlfriend.
Why should any of this matter? As I wrote this past summer, apocalyptic beliefs dictate the behavior of many true believers. American dispensationalists were early non-Jewish supporters of Zionism, believing that the ingathering of diaspora Jews to their Biblical homeland was a necessary precursor for the return of Christ. Though many Evangelicals and other Christians support Israel today for other reasons, no small number of them do so because their end-times belief mandates it. Thigpen is not so much worried that Rapture-expecting Christians will blow up Jerusalem's Dome of the Rock to hasten Armageddon as he is concerned about the spiritual harm that may result from acceptance of dispensationalist beliefs.
Since Israel is a player in the end times, premillennialists (whether they are dispensationalists or not) err on the side of aiding Israel. However, I think Thigpen's off base on the spiritual harm issue; let's look at the next paragraph
When times look tough and threatening, perhaps people find a comfort in believing in the Rapture, that God will help them escape events before they become too bad," Thigpen says. "Ideas have consequences. One, the Rapture doctrine ignores the redemptive power of suffering, which is a powerful Christian theme. Two, the Bible also shows that God chastises His people as well as their enemies; believers share in suffering as well. Three, if people wrongly believe Christians won't be around for the persecution that Scripture tells us will precede the Second Coming, they won't prepare themselves spiritually or otherwise."
If you look at the classic pre-trib Rapture, then the western Church is less likely to get the persecution that many Christians around the world face, but the first two critiques are more true of the Prosperity Gospel folks than of the garden-variety premillennialist. "Take up your cross and follow me" is a verse that is frequently heard in premillennialist churches, albeit less so in the Charisma magazine crowd that Thigpen once dwelt, which has a large minority of Prosperity Gospel folks.
As for the third point, I'm going to have to disagree in general. People who go to premillennial churches are more spiritually prepared, for they don't just have the fear of an accidental death in front of them to prompt a immediate decision for Christ, but they have the fear of the Rapture happening without them and having be left to face the tribulation without their church brethren to help them. The pending Rapture also give evangelism an added push, wanting to add as many names to the Book of Life as they can before Jesus' return. It can lead to a certain optimism in financial planning, for they might plan not to be around for any really bad times and be underprepared for a serious financial downturn. However, there are plenty of non-premillenialists who are overly fearful of a serious economic collapse where financial assets are worthless and only real assets like guns, canned food and water and sustainable technology would last. Those people might have a lot of assets tied up in survivalist gear and be more out-of-touch than the premillennialist.
Just because Catholicism doesn't teach the Rapture or focus on end-times prophecy doesn't mean the Catholic world has escaped popular apocalypticism. The particularly Catholic version comes as a mania for apocalypse-centered apparitions and private revelations claimed by contemporary visionaries. The Rapture Trap writes of the spiritual danger of uncritically accepting such claims, and offers discernment guidelines drawn from Catholicism's conservative tradition.
"What we're dealing with are people who are scared and confused by what's going on in the world today, and who aren't getting the information they need to separate what's real from what's vain and even harmful speculation," Thigpen says. "As Christians, we believe Jesus is coming back, and we have to be ready for that to happen at any moment. But this game of 'plug the headline into the Scripture verse,' or into the latest message from a supposed apparition, is a losing proposition."
There is a cottage industry in evangelical circle of writers and TV shows who plug the headlines into a premillennial world view. We don't know the hour or the day, and focusing on the details of His return can get in the way of expanding His kingdom today.
Many international trends towards globalization are feared by premillennialists, for they can be used to make the Antichrist's world government possible. However, if it will happen someday, people who fight globalization or computerization of things on the grounds that such innovations will make the Antichrist's job easier are missing the point. If the Antichrist is going to come, your efforts to stop him will be in vain. I think that a spiritual Ludditism could derail positive technologies or economic integration that could be use to aid a one-world government; that is more of a threat than financial shortsightedness or a lack of respect of suffering.
The premillennialists pro-Israel view will alter public policy; however that pressure seems to be on the side of the angels, since backing the Arab side of the argument is backing an undemocratic and despotic world-view compared to the largely democratic and egalitarian Israeli system. Liberals (small l, that includes most modern American conservatives) will back Israel because it is a democracy in an area of the world where functioning democracies are in short supply. Humanitarians will want to help Israel because the Jews have been crapped on for so long and the Gentile world owes then good treatment. Premillennialists want to help since Israel will be a big player in the End Times. I think all three motivations are correct and worthy of respect.
Premillennial thought is a part of most of evangelical thought. Faithful Catholics and evangelicals are two key constituents of the modern conservative political movement. There's an element of condescension in this piece in that premillennialist evangelicals are the equivalent of immature teenagers who are mindlessly rebelling against old-school church authority. That attitude crops up from time to time at the Catholic-centric National Review and irks many evangelicals when it happens.
Premillennialists are reading the Bible and drawing a different set of conclusions than either traditional Catholics or the early Protestant reformers did. One of the differences between evangelical and Catholic thought is that the evangelical doesn't have as great a respect for church tradition and willing to scrap traditional thought if it seems to run counter to Biblical teaching. However, such difference of interpretations typically have little application to modern politics. Premillennialists might be a bit too pro-Israel for their tastes, but they’re good fellow conservatives, so cool down the rhetoric a bit, please.
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