The End of the World
Today is May 20, 2011. Tomorrow, I’ve been told that the end of the world will come and those deemed holy enough will be miraculously whisked away to heaven, leaving the sinners and the heathens to suffer here on Earth amongst disasters of, well, biblical proportions.
I can only imagine the kind of anxiety this knowledge produces.
As someone who usually identifies as an atheist, I am guaranteed to be among the damned, and not concerned about it in the least. But I have to accept the fact that a number of people (greater than one), who truly honestly believe the Rapture will be here tomorrow.
What do you suppose they’ve spent the last week doing?. Did they go to work? Did they spend the time with their family? Play fetch with the dog one last time? Did they call their children’s school to excuse them for the impending doom of the world? Did they sit down to see the season finale Grey’s Anatomy?
What must it feel like to walk through the world knowing (certain, of course) that you are one of few, and that one day you will be teleported, Star Trek-style, up into heaven to avoid the floods, locusts and giant hole that will open up in the earth to swallow the damned.
How do you reconcile that in your head? Do you silently judge the world around you? Clearly that guy who cut you off on the expressway isn’t getting in, but does that mean you get to picture him dying in an earthquake or from plague?
And what about friends and family? You must know that your uncle Martin isn’t getting in, since he’s been living with his ‘roommate’ Bob for a few too many years. Neither is your best friend’s sister, who had her first child out of wedlock. Are you feeling a smug sense of satisfaction that you lived your life correctly, or are you terrified of losing your loved ones?
I don’t think I could handle that kind of pressure. Please, leave me here on Earth. I know this game, I can play it for a while longer.
Remember kids, hell is other people.