Rapture

Many of us go to extraordinary lengths to avoid learning the endings of films we haven't watched or books we haven't read. We get upset with friends who slip up and spill the surprise ending.

But a study from two researchers at the University of California, San Diego suggests that spoilers don't spoil stories. Instead, contrary to popular wisdom, they might even enhance our enjoyment of a story. The study ran experiments based on 12 short stories. The researchers found that the study participants preferred the "spoiled" versions of suspenseful stories. For example, in one case, participants were told before reading the story that a condemned man's daring escape is all just a fantasy before the noose snaps around his neck. That spoiler alert helped them enjoy the story even more.

Researchers have identified several reasons some of us like to find out what happens in a story before they’ve finished.

In an article for The Washington Post Olga Mecking says some people are happier knowing how the story ends. “After I became a mother, I developed a much lower tolerance for stress and tension. One way I deal with this is to embrace spoilers. If the action on the page or screen is too suspenseful, I go online to look up what happens next and release some of that tension.”

Researchers also explored tension in the 2011 study “Story Spoilers Don’t Spoil Stories.” When study participants were told the outcome of the short story they were about to read, they reported being more satisfied with the overall experience compared with when they read a story unspoiled.

When so much in the world feels uncertain, knowing how a film or a book will end can give audiences a sense of peace and a feeling of control. We don't know what will happen in real life, but at least we can find out what happens in this story.

Possible Preaching Angles:

As followers of Christ, the Bible has many "spoiler alerts" about how the story of our lives or the world will end. Does this diminish our enjoyment of the story? No, the Bible's spoiler alerts can help us "focus on a deeper understanding of the story" and give us peace inside of worry.

It took Noah Lyles 9.79 seconds to run 100 meters on August 4, 2024. It took 29.47 seconds for him to find out that he actually won. Once the closest, tensest men’s 100-meter final in modern Olympic history was over, the real drama was only beginning.

The race was so tight that the man who crossed the line first suspected that he’d finished second. Lyles put a hand on the shoulder of Jamaica’s Kishane Thompson to congratulate him. Thompson stared at the Stade de France scoreboard, willing the photo finish to go his way. “Come on, man!” he shouted.

Some 70,000 spectators held their breath. In the time it took to crown the winner, Lyles and Thompson could have run 100 meters three more times. That was when one of the most advanced scoring systems in any sport on the planet got to work.

To determine that Lyles had won by a margin of five thousandths of a second, it took three judges, three high-speed cameras—and a willingness to make the fastest men alive stand around and wait.

During those agonizing moments, the runners’ fates were in the hands of a team from Omega Timing, which has been responsible for tracking every fraction of a second at the Olympics for nearly a century.

Possible Preaching Angles:

1) Rapture; Second Coming of Christ – This incredibly small amount of time illustrates that important events can happen very quickly, such as: “a moment, in the twinkling of an eye” (1 Cor. 15:52); 2) Perseverance - Lyles' journey to Olympic gold demonstrates the importance of perseverance in the face of challenges. This reflects the biblical teaching to "run with perseverance the race marked out for us" (Heb. 12:1); 3) Humility - Lyles initially thought he had lost and congratulated Thompson, showing humility in what he believed was defeat (Phil. 2:3-5); 4) Patience - The 29.47-second wait for the results exemplifies the need for patience, echoing the biblical wisdom that "patience is better than pride" (Eccl. 7:8, Jam. 5:7-11); 5) Unity - The camaraderie between Lyles and Thompson, even in the midst of intense competition, reflects the biblical principle of loving one's neighbor (Mark 12:31).

In a recent segment on NPR’s Morning Edition, Rev. Cameron Partridge shared about an idea he developed during his years as a college chaplain. "You know, you've got the end of the semester. You've got finals. Preparation to leave for home. So, Advent barely got to be observed."

Traditionally, the season of Advent is observed in the Christian liturgical calendar during the four weeks preceding Christmas. But Partridge decided to start it a few weeks sooner, in order to draw attention to the necessary, urgent themes of the season. He says the shift gave students "an opportunity to actually really be present together and to observe it together, which could be grounding in a time of great intensity."

And this seems of upmost importance these days, especially given the current extended conflict in the Holy Land. "We can't pretend that everything is fine," he says. "There is tumult in the world, and it is real and it is hard and it is deeply affecting people."

The current move to begin marking the season earlier began in 2005, when the Rev. William Petersen got together a group of clergy, professors, and church musicians who formed something that came to be called the Advent Project.

Petersen believes that Advent for Christians is as much about hope for the Second Coming of Jesus—sometimes called the Second Advent—that will usher in the reign of God as much as it is about commemorating the first coming of God in the person of Jesus in first-century Palestine.

Petersen says that tension is where we all reside, which is why Advent is what we need. "In its dwelling in the already and the not-yet, Advent can ground and strengthen us in all of that uncertainty and help give us an ability to connect."

Possible Preaching Angle:

The good news is not just that God came to the earth as a baby, but that by doing so, he signaled hope for his Second Advent in which the heartache, injustice, and death of our fallen world will be overcome by goodness, truth, and life.

Nearly four-in-ten Americans say we're “living in the end times,” says a poll taken against a stark backdrop of climate change, the pandemic, nuclear brinkmanship, and doomsday cults.

A Pew Research Center survey of more than 10,000 adults, conducted in April of 2022, found that 39 percent called these the “end times,” while 58 percent were assured that humanity was not careening towards catastrophe.

Researchers linked the high number of doomsayers to the COVID-19 pandemic, which has claimed 6.65 million lives globally, and fears about living on a warming planet with fiercer hurricanes and wildfires. They could also add the threat of a war using nuclear weapons and greater political division and unrest.

Researchers added: “Periods of catastrophe and anxiety, such as the coronavirus pandemic, have historically led some people to anticipate that the destruction of the world as we know it — the 'end times' — is near.” Those fears relate to present-day realities as well as looking back to “sacred scripture” and the expectation among Christians that “Jesus will return to Earth after or amid a time of great turmoil.”

While nearly half of Christians say Judgement Day is closing in, there are big differences within the faith—63 percent of evangelicals call these the end times, but only 27 percent of Catholics agree.

There's also a political tilt—45 percent of Republicans see doomsday coming, against just 33 percent of Democrats. College graduates were more skeptical of the looming apocalypse than were those with only high school certificates.

On August 27, 1883, the Earth let out a noise louder than any it has made since. It was 10:02 a.m. when the sound emerged from the island of Krakatoa, which sits between Java and Sumatra in Indonesia. It was heard 2,000 miles away in Western Australia and even 3,000 miles away in the Indian Ocean Island of Rodrigues. In all, it was heard in over 50 different geographical locations.

Think just how crazy this is. It’s like being in Boston and clearly hearing a noise coming from Dublin, Ireland. Travelling at the speed of sound it takes a noise about four hours to cover that distance. This is the most distant sound that has ever been heard in recorded history.

So, what could possibly create such an earth-shatteringly loud bang? A volcano on Krakatoa had just erupted with a force that tore the island apart, emitting a plume of smoke that reached 17 miles high. This explosion created a deadly tsunami with waves over a hundred feet in height. One hundred sixty-five coastal villages were entirely destroyed. In all, it is estimated the death toll was between 36,000 and 120,000 people.

The British ship Norham Castle was 40 miles from Krakatoa at the time of the explosion. The ship’s captain wrote in his log, “So violent are the explosions that the eardrums of over half my crew have been shattered. My last thoughts are with my dear wife. I am convinced that the Day of Judgement has come.”

A barometer at the Batavia gasworks (100 miles away from Krakatoa) registered 172 decibels of sound pressure, an unimaginably loud noise. A jackhammer emits about 100 decibels while standing near a jet engine the level is 150 decibels. The human threshold for pain is near 130 decibels. The Krakatoa explosion registered 172 decibels at 100 miles from the source.

Amazingly, for as many as five days after the explosion, weather stations around the globe observed this unprecedented spike in pressure recurring approximately every 34 hours. That is roughly how long it takes sound to travel around the entire planet. In all, the pressure waves from Krakatoa circled the globe three to four times in each direction.

Possible Preaching Angle:

When the Lord returns, the trumpet sound will be heard around the world. Everyone who has ever lived, both alive and dead, will hear and respond to the sound.

Rabbis in Israel have spent many years searching for a qualified red heifer. Finally in September of 2022, a Texas man has delivered five red heifers to four Israeli rabbis so the young cows can be slaughtered and burned to produce the ash necessary for a ritual purification prescribed in Numbers 19:2–3.

Some Jews believe the ritual is a step toward the reconstruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. Some Christians believe that “third temple” will set the stage for the Antichrist.

Editor’s Note: The red heifers must be monitored for defects by the rabbis until they are three-years-old. At that time, if unblemished, they would be suitable for use as sacrifices in the red heifer ritual. The Mishnah, which is a written embodiment of Jewish oral tradition, teaches that only nine red heifers were sacrificed from the time of Tabernacle worship until the Second Temple was destroyed in 70 AD.

Many Jerusalem residents believe not only that the Messiah will return, but that his arrival is imminent--so imminent they have taken legal precautions to ensure they can return to Jerusalem immediately upon his return.

In apartment contracts around the city, there are clauses stipulating what will happen to the apartment if or when the Jewish Messiah comes. Using something called a “Messiah Clause,” the contracts stipulate that, in the event of the coming of the Moshiach, or Jewish redeemer, the lease “may be immediately terminated at the will of the landlord.” The owners, generally religious Jews living abroad, are concerned that he will arrive, build a third temple, and turn Israel into paradise--and they will be stuck waiting for their apartment tenants' contracts to run out before they can move back.

It is prophesied in the Jewish scriptures that there will be no more war, murder, or theft, the Jerusalem Temple will be rebuilt, and all the Jews will return to the land of Israel upon his arrival.

There is no count of how many leases in Jerusalem contain such a clause. But although not standard, the Messiah clause is requested enough that every Jerusalem property manager and real estate lawyer contacted by reporters had heard of it, and all except one had dealt with it firsthand.

The fact is, with only biblical prophecy and the conjecture of religious leaders upon which to rely for sketches of the next world, the level of zeal surrounding the associated legal and spiritual preparations is astonishing. Perhaps it’s all a safety net, just in case the scriptural forecast ends up being correct, but what a statement of faith, nonetheless.

The opinion among the property managers and real estate lawyers was unanimous that their clients would know the Messiah when they saw him. Sarah Eiferman, a real estate agent said, “When he comes, we’ll know. It’s in the Old Testament.”

On a balmy January Saturday morning, an alert warning of nuclear doom was erroneously sent to millions of people across the state of Hawaii.

"BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND TO HAWAII. SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL." Those were the words that flashed on cell phones and televisions screens across the state, the result of a gaffe by an employee of the Hawaii Emergency Management Agency who selected the wrong option in a text-based dropdown menu.

Though the agency eventually issued a correction, residents and tourists, as well as Hawaiian natives tracking the impending disaster on the mainland, in real-time on social media, criticized the government for taking 38 minutes to issue the retraction.

"If it was a mistake and someone pushed a button they shouldn't have pushed, then why the 38 minute delay?" asked Rep. Colleen Hanabusa, D-Hawaii, in an interview with Fox News. "The next question is, why don't we have a better fail-safe?"

The employee who made the mistake has expressed profound regret for the mistake, but the blunder has since been overshadowed by the obvious, ominous hypothetical: what if the threat had been real?

In July of 2017, news reports confirmed Hawaii as the first U.S. state with an attack-warning system designed to detect nuclear threats. This latest development seems to have shaken the public's trust in its effectiveness.

Potential Preaching Angles: The end can come at any time; will you be ready? What would you do if you had just a few moments left? In times of calamity, to whom can we run?

This one was just too perfect to pass up. Due to a severe drought in Mexico, the remains of a 450 year-old church emerged from the receding waters of a reservoir. Architect Carlos Navarete, an expert on the structure, estimates that the building was likely constructed around 1564, then was abandoned because of the "big plagues of 1773-1776."

The church remained visible, however, until 1966 when a dam was constructed and the reservoir created. Plus, the church has even emerged from the depths once before, in 2002. That time, the waters receded so much that people could actually walk around the inside of the remains.

Possible Preaching Angle:

Either way, the image of whitewashed walls emerging wearily from the depths seems appropriate in an age in which many wonder about the role of the church in the modern world. A centuries-old, shell of a church building may not exactly be a sign from above, but it does serve as a reminder that God's Word is eternal, and that he has promised to return for his Bride.

Author Doug Mendenhall shares a brief parable that should cause all of us to pause and reflect:

Jesus called the other day to say he was passing through and [wondered if] he could spend a day or two with us.

I said, "Sure. Love to see you. When will you hit town?"

I mean, it's Jesus, you know, and it's not every day you get the chance to visit with him. It's not like it's your in-laws and you have to stop and decide whether the advantages outweigh your having to move to the sleeper sofa.

That's when Jesus told me he was actually at a convenience store out by the interstate.

I must have gotten that Bambi-in-headlights look, because my wife hissed, "What is it? What's wrong? Who is that?"

So I covered the receiver and told her Jesus was going to arrive in eight minutes, and she ran out of the room and started giving guidance to the kids—in that effective way that Marine drill instructors give guidance to recruits. …

My mind was already racing with what needed to be done in the next eight—no seven—minutes so Jesus wouldn't think we were reprobate loser slobs.

I turned off the TV in the den, which was blaring some weird scary movie I'd been half watching. But I could still hear screams from our bedroom, so I turned off the reality show it was tuned to. Plus, I turned off the kids' set out on the sun porch, because I didn't want to have to explain Jon & Kate Plus Eight to Jesus, either, six minutes from now.

My wife had already thinned out the magazines that had been accumulating on the coffee table. She put Christianity Today on top for a good first impression. Five minutes to go.

I looked out the front window, but the yard actually looked great thanks to my long, hard work, so I let it go. What could I improve in four minutes anyway?

I did notice the mail had come, so I ran out to grab it. Mostly it was Netflix envelopes and a bunch of catalogs tied into recent purchases, so I stuffed it back in the box. Jesus doesn't need to get the wrong idea—three minutes from now—about how much on-line shopping we do.

I ran back in and picked up a bunch of shoes left by the door. Tried to stuff them in the front closet, but it was overflowing with heavy coats and work coats and snow coats and pretty coats and raincoats and extra coats. We live in the South; why'd we buy so many coats? I squeezed the shoes in with two minutes to go.

I plumped up sofa pillows, my wife tossed dishes into the sink, I scolded the kids, and she shooed the dog. With one minute left I realized something important: Getting ready for a visit from Jesus is not an eight-minute job.

Then the doorbell rang.

Used with permission from author.

In many ways the Pixar's animated film Wall•E is a story about coming home. It tells the story of a lonely robot who for 700 years has been cleaning up the trash left behind by humans on an abandoned planet. Wall•E stands for "Waste Allocation Load Lifter–Earth class." While we are never told so, it is likely that Wall•E is the last operating robot on the planet. All of the human beings now live on a giant spaceship called The Axiom, situated in the outer reaches of the galaxy. The ship initially set out on a "five-year cruise," while robots like Wall-E made the planet acceptable for human life once again. When the robots' efforts failed, it was decided that The Axiom would become humanity's new home.

In this scene the ship's on-board computer has been trying to tell the captain of The Axiom that a probe (referred to as "Eve") has brought a living plant sample back from Earth. (The ship that carried the plant also brought Wall•E to The Axiom.) This would mean that the planet can once again support life. At first the captain doesn't notice the computer's efforts at giving him the good news. He's stuck in his daily routine of morning announcements.

"Well, good morning everybody," he says, "and welcome to day 255,642 aboard The Axiom. As always, the weather is a balmy 72 degrees and sunny. Hey! I see the ship's log is showing that this is our 700th anniversary of our 5-year cruise. Well, I'm sure our forefathers would be proud to know that, 700 years later, we'd be doing the exact same thing they were doing."

As the captain talks, we see the ship's passengers—all shockingly out-of-shape—lounging in front of a pool, watching robots play tennis, and hitting virtual golf balls into outer space with a flick of their wrists.

"So," the captain continues, "be sure next mealtime to ask for your free septuacentennial cupcake in a cup! Well, look at that. Also, today we have—."

A green button begins flashing on the front of the captain's console. The captain turns to the ship's autopilot and asks, "Hey—what's that flashing button?"

"Captain," Auto responds, "Probe 1 has returned positive." The autopilot begins pressing buttons on the probe, releasing the probe from a hibernating state.

"Positive?" the captain asks. "But, no probe's ever come back positive before." The captain presses the green button, and alarms begin sounding as the cabin becomes secured to the outside.

A screen pops up in front of the captain, containing a message from the humans who originally built The Axiom and left Earth. A man says, "Greetings and congratulations, Captain! If you are seeing this, that means your Extraterrestrial Vegetation Evaluator, or E.V.E. probe, has returned from Earth with a confirmed specimen of ongoing photosynthesis. That's right, it means it's time to go back home."

"Home?" the captain asks, looking very surprised. "We're going back?"

The man on the video continues: "Now that Earth has been restored to a life-sustaining status, by golly, we can begin Operation Recolonize!" An Operation Manual flies out of a console and lands in Wall•E's hands. He quickly hands it to the captain. "Simply follow this manual's instructions to place the plant in your ship's holo-detector, and The Axiom will immediately navigate your return to Earth. It's that easy!

"Now, due to the effects of micro-gravity, you and your passengers may have suffered some slight bone loss." (Indeed, the captain and the rest of the passengers are very overweight—moving about the ship only through the use of hover-chairs.) "But, I'm sure a few laps around the ship's jogging track will get you back in shape in no time. If you have any further questions, just consult your Operation Manual. See you back home real soon!"

Stunned, the captain asks, "We have a jogging track?"

While we chuckle at the people aboard The Axiom, they really aren't all that far removed from many of us today—unaware of our true home and unprepared to go there when the time finally comes.

Content: Rated G

Elapsed Time: DVD scene 10; 00:46:01 – 00:49:01

As we look at Christ's first coming this Christmas season, here's a story from CT editor Kevin Miller to help us keep in mind Christ's Second Coming:

In April of 2008, I had to drive to Fort Wayne, Indiana, for work, so I went to Enterprise to rent a car. They gave me a big, brand-new, comfy Chrysler 300 to drive—and I loved it! In fact, I enjoyed feeling large and in charge so much that I blew right past the first tollbooth. You see, I'm not used to stopping for tollbooths, because I have an I-PASS in my own car—a little device that signals I've already prepaid my tolls.

After passing the first tollbooth, I thought about it: Oh! This car doesn't have an I-PASS! But just as I started to worry about it, I thought, This car belongs to the rental-car company—not me. So they're probably responsible for any tolls. That must be what your rental money goes toward covering.

When I got on 294, I drove past another toll, thinking, Even if I am responsible for the tolls, there's only a few tolls between here and Indiana—maybe $4 round trip. I'm sure there's some threshold where they don't even bother sending you a bill for the tolls. I mean, it wouldn't be worth their time to send me a bill for only $4. Nothing's going to happen!

After I returned home from my business trip, a month or two went by. Nothing happened—and I knew nothing ever would. But then, in October, I received a piece of mail that read: "Notice of Toll Violation."

I was right, to a degree. The Tollway Authority wouldn't bother sending me a bill for my measly $3.90 in tolls. But when you add in a $20 fine for every one of the 5 tollbooths I drove past, they did bother sending me a bill for $103.90!

I about had a heart attack. They had me dead to rights. They had a photo of my rental-car's license plate. They even knew the exact lane number I was in. The fact that months had gone by and nothing had happened didn't mean that nothing was ever going to happen.

In a passage concerning the return of Christ, Peter says: Get a clue, people! Just because the Lord hasn't come back yet, don't think for a minute that he won't! The Lord isn't being slow about his promise, as some people think. No—he is being patient for your sake. He does not want anyone to be destroyed, but wants everyone to repent."

How the news media would announce the end of the world:

Sports Illustrated: "Game's Over!"

Ladies' Home Journal: "Lose 10 Pounds by Judgment Day with Our New Armageddon Diet!"

Inc. Magazine: "Ten Ways You Can Profit from the Apocalypse."

CNN: "World Ends; Women and Children Most Affected."

Robby Robins was an Air Force pilot during the first Iraq war. After his 300th mission, he was surprised to be given permission to immediately pull his crew together and fly his plane home. They flew across the ocean to Massachusetts and then had a long drive to western Pennsylvania. They drove all night, and when his buddies dropped him off at his driveway just after sun-up, there was a big banner across the garage—"Welcome Home Dad!"

How did they know? No one had called, and the crew themselves hadn't expected to leave so quickly. Robins relates, "When I walked into the house, the kids, about half dressed for school, screamed, 'Daddy!' Susan came running down the hall—she looked terrific—hair fixed, make-up on, and a crisp yellow dress. 'How did you know?' I asked.

'I didn't,' she answered through tears of joy. 'Once we knew the war was over, we knew you'd be home one of these days. We knew you'd try to surprise us, so we were ready every day.'"

It is said that Satan once called to him the emissaries of hell and said he wanted to send one of them to earth to aid women and men in the ruination of their souls. He asked which one would want to go. One creature came forward and said, "I will go." Satan said, "If I send you, what will you tell the children of men?" He said, "I will tell the children of men that there is no heaven." Satan said, "They will not believe you, for there is a bit of heaven in every human heart. In the end everyone knows that right and good must have the victory. You may not go."

Then another came forward, darker and fouler than the first. Satan said, "If I send you, what will you tell the children of men?" He said, "I will tell them there is no hell." Satan looked at him and said, "Oh, no; they will not believe you, for in every human heart there's a thing called conscience, an inner voice which testifies to the truth that not only will good be triumphant, but that evil will be defeated. You may not go."

Then one last creature came forward, this one from the darkest place of all. Satan said to him, "And if I send you, what will you say to women and men to aid them in the destruction of their souls?" He said, "I will tell them there is no hurry." Satan said, "Go!"

William Miller seemed an unlikely striker of panic. He tended a farm in Vermont, fought in the War of 1812, and served as a justice of the peace. His religious life, however, had not been so steady.

Early in life, Miller followed Deism, the rationalistic faith of many American intellectuals (and several founding fathers). He converted to Christianity in 1816, then began assiduous study of the Scriptures. He found the prophecies of Daniel especially compelling and used a few key numbers from the text to calculate the date for Christ's return. The formula went something like this:

1. Daniel 8:14 says that after 2,300 days, the sanctuary will be cleansed.

2. Day actually means year, and the cleansing of the sanctuary means the eradication of evil on earth—in other words, the End.

3. According to James Ussher, an influential Anglican bishop with a passion for dating biblical events, Daniel recorded that prophecy in 457 B.C.

4. Add 2,300 years to 457 B.C., and you get 1843.

Miller arrived at this conclusion not long after his conversion, but he didn't tell anyone about it until 1831. Soon invitations to speak began to pour in, and Miller became a local phenomenon. He gained wider audience in 1838 by publishing Evidence from Scripture and History of the Second Coming of Christ, About the Year 1843 and partnering with pastor Joshua V. Himes, who would serve as his publicist. An estimated 50,000 people took the message to heart and prepared to meet their maker, while hundreds of thousands more at least casually turned an eye to the skies.

As the title of Miller's book indicates, he had not pinpointed a date for the apocalypse. Pressed for more specificity, he could only offer the span March 21, 1843 to March 21, 1844—the beginning and end of the Hebrew year. Unfortunately, March 1844 saw no lions lying down with lambs. Miller announced that he must have erred, but one of his followers dipped back into the Scriptures to adjust the calculations. After the "tarrying time" cited in Habakkuk 2:3 and Leviticus 25:9 was factored in, October 22, 1844, got the nod.

Once again, nothing happened.

Theologian Dale Bruner writes:

David Peterson, former pastor at the First Presbyterian Church in Spokane, Washington, told about a time when he was preparing his sermon. His little daughter came in and said, "Daddy, can we play?"

He answered, "I'm awfully sorry, Sweetheart, but I'm right in the middle of preparing this sermon. In about an hour I can play."

She said, "Okay, when you're finished, Daddy, I am going to give you a great big hug."

He said, "Thank you very much." She went to the door and (these are his words) "Then she did a U-turn and came back and gave me a chiropractic, bone-breaking hug." David said to her, "Darling, you said you were going to give me a hug after I finished."

She answered, "Daddy, I just wanted you to know what you have to look forward to!"

One meaning of Christmas is that God wants us to know, through this First Coming, how much we have to look forward to in the great Second Coming.

The story goes that on New Year's Eve 999 a crowd pushed its way into St. Peter's Basilica in Rome to pray at a midnight mass led by Pope Sylvester II. Some trembled, some wept—all were on their knees or prostrate in prayer. The beginning of the end, the great day of wrath, God's judgment, was moments away.

For months reports of meteors and earthquakes seemed to signal the end. All across Europe, people donated lands, homes, and goods to the poor to better their souls for the coming judgment. Sins were confessed, businesses neglected, fields left uncultivated as people waited in dread. On New Year's Eve at St. Peter's, the tension was so thick that, as the clock ticked toward the end of the millennium, one account says, "not a few [died] from fright."

Then the clock struck twelve: "The crowd remained transfixed, barely daring to breathe." And life went on. Bells peeled forth and people cheered. So the story goes.

But it never happened. It is a tale created by some medieval storyteller who thought that Y1K should have been more fearful and exciting. We’ve had plenty of fear-mongering about Y2K, not only about the technological catastrophes that awaited us but also, according to many religious books, the apocalyptic terrors that were going to be released as Christ was about to come in judgment. And nearly all of it has been proven false.

It just goes to show, once again, that Jesus really meant it when he said no one knows the hour or day of his coming. It is not our business to calculate his coming, and certainly not to fear it, but simply to await in hope and in the meantime do what he’s called us to do day by day.

After church, where she had been taught about the Second Coming, a little girl was quizzing her mother.

"Mommy, do you believe Jesus will come back?"

"Yes."

"Could he come this week?"

"Yes."

"Today?"

"Yes."

"Could he come in the next hour?"

"Yes."

"In a few minutes?"

"Yes, dear."

"Mommy, would you comb my hair?"