‘But know this: if the owner of the house had known at what hour the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into. You also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.’ (Luke 12: 39-40)
Do
you remember that old movie A Thief In the Night?
It's considered to be a landmark flick in Christian movie-making.
Combining an almost sci-fi style plot with a rock music score, A
Thief In the Night has been seen
by an estimated 800 million people worldwide since its release in
1972. It's about this chick who wakes up one morning to discover that
her Christian husband and millions of other Christians have suddenly
vanished off the face of the earth, caught up in The Rapture—the
miraculous rescue of Christ's Church predicted to occur before the
time of the Great Tribulation preceding the End of the World and the
Last Judgment.
Now,
speaking as a former SAG member who once acted with Tom Hanks, I
think I'm qualified to critique this film on its artistic merits.
(Okay.
I didn't really act with
Tom Hanks. I sort of acted behind
him—I was an extra in one of his early films. But I still think I'm
a good judge of movies!)
Let
me just say that, as a piece of cinema, A Thief In the
Night is a piece of crap. The
dialogue, direction, acting, and cinematography are of an
embarrassingly amateurish level which makes the film almost
laughable. But, speaking as a theologian, I don't feel the film
should be dismissed until we've looked at its Christian message.
Then we
should dismiss it. The basic premise of this turkey is that believing
in certain doctrines will save you from the Day of God's Wrath. Okay.
Maybe that's true, but I'm not sure that the Bible actually bears
this out.
(By
the way, the entire doctrine of the Rapture is a masterpiece of bad
Biblical study and poor theology. I urge any serious Bible student to
check out Barbara Rossing's wonderful book, The Rapture
Exposed (2004 Westview Press).
Just click on Barbara's name for a review of the book.)
Speaking
as one who has had his home burglarized, I'm pretty glad I wasn't
around when the thief came. Can you imagine what that would be like?
It's 2:00 AM. You and your loved ones are safe in bed—or so you
believe. Suddenly, you are thrashed from a peaceful sleep by the
sound of breaking glass! Your heart thunders in your chest. PANIC!
There is a horrifying sense that you are in danger. You are prepared,
though. You holler to your wife or child to call 911 and lock the
bedroom door. You step out into the corridor and begin switching on
every light in the house. “Whose there??!!” you demand. You
search for some kind of weapon—a knife, a baseball bat, an
umbrella—anything which will protect your family. In the glare of a
streetlight through your broken rear window you catch the silhouette
of the thief fleeing into the night.
You
ask your family, “Are you alright?” They answer, “Yes,” but
all of you are scared and shaken. The police arrive and take your
statement. This takes time. None of you will get back to sleep that
night.
Maybe,
as you lie back down in your bed again, you whisper a prayer of
gratitude that you have been spared. You pray, too, for safety for
those nice police officers who came to your door. And perhaps you
even pray for the soul of the man who violated your home and left
this night scarred by the knowledge of a shadowy malevolence waiting
somewhere in the darkness.
No
amount of “correct” doctrine saves us from the time of
tribulation. We all ride on the roller coaster of daily challenges.
The Bible never claims that we don't. I love that this week's Revised
Common Lectionary readings include the passage from Genesis 15: 1-6
in which God's chosen, Abram, wails in despair that, even though he
has done everything God has demanded, he still has not received the
desire of his heart. God has promised Abram children, but has not
delivered. Abram fears God never will make good.
So
what does God do in the story? He calls Abram outside and asks him to
look up at the stars. Then this good man, so filled with
disappointment and worry, views the power, the majesty, and the
beauty of God. He unfolds his focus from his own fears and opens
himself to the universal and the eternal. And his faith and
relationship with God are restored.
In
the lesson from Luke's gospel, Jesus exhorts his disciples not to
fear for the necessities of life. He urges us to unclench our
grasping fists and be open to the needs of others. After all, you
can't put anything new into a closed hand.
I'm too old now to think of God as some kind of cosmic Santa Clause
who grants protection and blessings to those who obey Him. I know
that the Day of Tribulation—or, I should say the Days of
Tribulation, as there are many in a lifetime—will come unexpectedly
whether I have been pious in my faith or negligent. But the faith
which sustains me is the knowledge that I am God's child, baptized
into God's beauty and majesty, and that God's desire for me is
abundant life.
Tribulation has the power to lead us into despair or deeper faith. It
is always around the bend in life's road, and none of us are ever
100% ready for the danger of being a human being on planet earth. But
we walk forward calmly with our hands open to each other, our eyes
focused on eternity, raptured by the day-to-day hidden goodness of
God.
* * *
Hey!
The 500th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation is
just a little more than three years away. If you're Lutheran or Roman
Catholic don't you think it's time we patched things up?Please sign
my petition asking Pope Francis to approve open communion between our
denominations. It may not help, but it couldn't hurt! Just click
here.
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