How do we know the rapture didn’t happen?
It seems a little egotistical to say the Rapture didn’t happen because I’m still here. I could also point out that none of my friends are missing but it’s not like I have a lot of saints on my buddy list.
On top of that, nobody’s looking in the right places. Washington? New York? Paris? London?
Jesus himself said it was easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. So metropolitan Western cities where even the homeless people have 100 times the income of the average Nigerian villager probably weren’t in danger of losing a lot of population.
Rural areas with simple, agrarian citizens, through. People who live close to the land and their families. Palestinian orange growers. Shepherds from Outer Mongolia.
One number being tossed around was 200 million people would be raptured. That’s less than 3 percent of the world’s population. Three people out of every hundred and, lets be honest, the kind of people who could pass the spiritual litmus test of the rapture probably aren’t party animals. They’d be quiet, unassuming, peaceful types who often go unnoticed even when they’re right in front of us.
Maybe all the good people are gone. I know I haven’t run into any of them today. After all, Jesus did say anyone who called his brother a fool would risk the fires of hell. All that finger-pointing and laughing probably cost a few people a seat on the shuttle.
So what if the Rapture happened?
What if there were just far fewer people worthy than expected and they were so meek and mild and gentle and quiet that the rest of us didn’t even note their passing?
Where does that leave us?
I suppose it leaves us in the midst of the Tribulation. Seven more years of living on this earth and our only punishment is the same as it ever was … we are surrounded by our own kind, locked in a prison where the worst punishment is to be with other people who are just like us.
Oddly the Bible offered hope. During those seven years of the tribulation, people would be saved. All they had to do was become better people before it was too late.
Let’s say the rapture happened and that’s where each of us stands today.
You … yes, you … are the best person on earth today. Everyone on earth who was better than you or less of a sinner is gone. You, as miserable and cowardly and hopeless as you are, now know for a fact nobody is better than you.
It’s all on you now. From now on, there are no saints, no heroes, no good, kind caring people to save the world or make it a better place. There’s just you and other weak, broken people like you.
I guess the question would be what are you going to do with the rest of your life? And more importantly, why should it take the end of the world to make you get off your ass and start doing it?