Not the End: Finding Hope in the Midst of Our Own Apocalypse

Growing Up Terrified of the End Times

I used to be quite terrified of passages like the one in Luke 21. Growing up a fundamentalist Baptist, we were taught to read passages like this as some kind of prediction of the future—all the things that were going to happen before Jesus returned.

I grew up with this idea of the rapture. Have you heard of it? The idea was that at some time before Jesus returned or before the end of the world, everyone who belonged to the church and who had genuinely confessed Jesus as their Lord and Savior were going to be sucked out of the world and taken to heaven, and the world would be left with no Christians in it. I lived in constant fear that maybe I hadn't quite genuinely turned to Jesus and that I might be left behind when the rapture happened. It's actually the basis of the Left Behind books and movies.

I remember one night when I must have been about eight years old. There was a terrible storm. We lived in a place called Brandy Hill, and there was a huge crash of lightning. It lit up the whole room, and immediately afterwards there was a huge bang of thunder. I thought, This is it. The rapture's happened. All the Christians have been taken out of the world and I've been left behind.

So I went straight to my brother's room, because I thought if any Christian was going to be taken, it'd be him—he was a very good, genuine Christian. And he wasn't there. My fear sunk deeper into my chest. I went straight to my parents' room to see whether they had been raptured as well. I couldn't see them because their room was dark. So I whispered, "Dad, Dad, are you there?" No answer. I raised my voice a little louder. "Dad, Dad, are you there?" My dad was suffering from industrial deafness. So I yelled out, "Dad! Dad! Are you there?" He sat bolt upright in his bed and said, "Mitchell, you scared me half to death! What's wrong?" I said, "Oh, nothing. It's okay. I was just checking on the rapture."

What Luke 21 Is Really About

We were taught to read these texts as some kind of prediction of the future—of what might happen at the end of the world or when Jesus returns. But if you look very closely at Luke 21, you'll notice there's a whole bunch of clues telling us that this story really isn't talking about the future at all.

When Luke is writing this, he's actually looking back into the past—something that might have happened about ten years earlier. When Jesus was speaking about it, he was looking maybe thirty or forty years into the future. But when Luke is writing, it's actually looking a little bit into the past.

Here's how it starts. Jesus says, "As for these things that you see"—the temple—"the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another, and all will be thrown down." Jesus is being very clear: the temple is about to be taken apart, stone by stone. The disciples ask, "What will be the sign that this is about to take place?" And Jesus answers them very plainly—which is really interesting, because Jesus isn't often plain in his answers, but here he really is.

So let me recap what's happening. Jesus says a time is coming when the temple is going to be destroyed. The disciples ask when. And then Jesus gives them an indicator of when this might happen. It's talking about an event in history that happened in about 70 AD—the destruction of the temple.

Escalating Tensions and False Messiahs

What Jesus describes is escalating tensions between the Jewish people and the Roman people. He says, "Many will come in my name and say, 'I am he.'" I don't think he means that many people are going to come and say, "I am Jesus." Rather, there will be many people who claim to be the Messiah, saying, "Follow me as we take back our land from the colonizers and oppressors—Rome."

We know from history that there were many would-be messiahs in the lead-up to the fall of Jerusalem in 70 AD. They came and said that very thing to the people: "Come and follow me, and we will take back our nation and our land."

Jesus says, "Don't listen to them, because they're leading you to utter destruction." When Rome gets wind of it, when they get sick of it, they're going to send the full might of their army, and that army is not going to discriminate. Men, women, and children will be destroyed.

That's the kind of description Jesus gives. Famine, plague, destruction. He says, "Woe to you who are pregnant, because you won't be able to run away. You won't be able to run to the hills because it's so much harder to move when you are pregnant."

The ancient historian Josephus describes the fall of Jerusalem in terms that are eerily similar. He describes the siege, how people were starving inside the city, the drastic lengths people went to trying to survive, the disease that swept through Jerusalem, and ultimately the destruction when men, women, and children were murdered. Anyone who survived was taken off into enslavement camps or kept as personal slaves.

A Story for Every Generation

As I said, this story isn't one about the end of the world as we know it. It's one about the end of the world for a very particular group of people—these people who were following Jesus—and the destruction of their temple.

So what has that got to teach us? If it's just a story from history about something that happened, what has it got to teach you and me in our world today?

This is where someone like the theologian Origen, from the third and fourth century, can help. Origen says there are many senses to scripture, many meanings. You have the literal meaning—we've covered that already. But he says we also have a deeper meaning, what he calls the spiritual meaning, but what we might call the metaphorical meaning.

If you think about it, the description of the fall of Jerusalem could apply to so many wars and conflicts in our world today and throughout history. Imagine reading a text like this in Gaza, for example, as it speaks of famine and disease, of would-be messiahs coming in saying, "We will lead a revolt," and the utter destruction that comes. "Woe to you who cannot run away and can't find a safe place." You can imagine the people in Gaza thinking that this passage is speaking directly to them.

Words of Comfort in the Midst of Crisis

So what words of comfort does this passage have for those of us who are in the midst of our own little apocalypse and crisis? You have to move forward just a little bit to hear it.

Jesus says, "When all this stuff happens, it's not the end." He says the Son of Man is yet to come. He also says that when you're dragged before kings and rulers and authorities, "you will be my witnesses."

What does that mean? In those little moments, in those little apocalypses where the world is ending, you have a job. Your job is to witness to the goodness and love of God—the universal love and goodness of God and his desire for all people to be free.

It's not the end. One day I'll come back and I'll fix this whole thing. But for now, remind people that I am present—even in their worst and darkest moments.