Waiting for Doomsday

It just so happens that during this historic election week I have been reading a new novel entitled “I Think We‘ve Been Here Before” by Suzy Krause. It is the story of some people in a Saskatchewan prairie town, who are awaiting an extinction level event. A cosmic blast of gamma rays is heading toward our solar system. In less than three months it will destroy all life on our planet.  The book is about how people deal differently with the impending apocalypse.  

The plot seems like an apt metaphor for the 2024 presidential election and waiting for Inauguration Day. I don’t think this Canadian author had the US political scene in mind when she wrote the book, but it certainly feels relevant to how a lot of Americans are feeling these days.  

For years, political and military leaders have been warning us about the dangers of a second Trump presidency. Apparently most Americans didn’t believe them, or they wanted this type of presidency. In either case the American people have decided to give 45 a second chance as 47. One banner in my daughter’s neighborhood read “Trump, the Sequel.”  

For many people the election results feel like a death sentence for American values. It is like receiving bad biopsy results. It feels like a close family member has been diagnosed with cancer and given less than three months to live. We are dreading what the next few years might mean for our country and our hard-won freedoms. 

In Krause’s novel the characters had different attitudes toward the approaching end of the world. Some were in denial. They thought it was government disinformation or a conspiracy theory. Others became depressed and withdrawn. Some acted out. Still others became very religious.

Two of the main characters got married. One man decided to use the time he had left to do as much good for others as he could. Families traveled far distances in order to be with those they love during the final days, which happened to coincide with Advent and Christmas. (Lots of symbolism there!)  

I have heard a lot of my family and friends voice different attitudes toward our upcoming American apocalypse. Many are still in a state of shock. They are exhibiting classic stages of grief. Some are determined to keep fighting for human rights and freedoms.  Others are going about business as usual, as if this were just another election. As a preacher I habitually look for biblical parallels in current events.  

I remember the pattern in the historical books of the Hebrew scriptures. God’s people repeatedly chose a human leader over God. Israel preferred to follow a king rather than the Lord. “And the Lord said to the prophet Samuel, ‘Heed the voice of the people in all that they say to you; for they have not rejected you, but they have rejected Me, that I should not reign over them.’” I see a large segment of the American church repeating this sin in our time.  

Another powerful biblical parallel is the Babylonian exile. That was a catastrophic event in the history of the people of Israel – the destruction of Jerusalem and the Jewish temple, and the exile of its people to a foreign land. Somehow the Jewish people and faith survived. Exilic prophets like Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Daniel and Deutero-Isaiah have insights to help those who feel like strangers in a strange land after this election.  

The First Letter of Peter uses this exilic theme saying that Christians are “resident aliens living in exile.” The Letter to the Hebrews says of biblical people of faith, “they acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland.” 

Following in the footsteps of the prophets, Jesus predicted an apocalypse happening in his country within the lifetimes of his hearers. He prophesied the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple a second time, this time by the Romans. His words came to pass in 70 AD. Early Christianity was formed in the shadow of this apocalypse.  

So we should not be surprised that such an apocalyptic event is happening in our time and in our nation. It is the way of history, and history tends to repeat itself. Or at least it rhymes, as Mark Twain famously quipped. As the title of the novel says, “I Think We‘ve Been Here Before.” 

So I am not surprised or shocked by what is happening in our country. I joke that it proves the Calvinist doctrine of the “total depravity” of humans. G.K. Chesterton once said that the doctrine of original sin is the only Christian doctrine that can be empirically proven. This election has confirmed that assessment.  

If evangelicals voted in this election according to the same pattern that they voted in the previous two elections, then they have once again demonstrated that Christians are just as morally and spiritually lost as the non-Christian populace. As if the sex abuse and financial scandals of the Church had not already made that abundantly obvious to Americans! 

So I wait for doomsday, but I am not distressed. This is the way of the world. Every nation has moments of crisis. Every generation has its trials and tribulations. Every generation of Christians has its “Bonhoeffer moments” where faithful believers are required to stand up to tyrants and an apostate church. This is our moment. It will undoubtedly be hard. But did we really think that the Kingdom of God comes without a price? 

Unlike other Christians, I do not feel like a stranger and exile on the earth or in my own country. I am not seeking a homeland. I am already home. I am at home in the Kingdom of God. As the apostle said in the city that gave birth to democracy. “In Him we live and move and have our being.” I abide in Christ and Christ in me. “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.”  

Doomsdays happen. They always have. They always will. That is what Jesus said in his Olivet Discourse, also known as his “little apocalypse,” concerning the doomsday looming over his generation. He said, “You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come.”  

Max Ehrmann said in his Desiderata, “And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.” We’ve been here before. We will get through this. 

The Burning Bush in my Backyard

Moses saw a burning bush. So do I. I have a burning bush in my backyard.  Its botanical name is Euonymus alatus, but it is commonly called a Burning Bush or a Winged Spindle. It is distinctive because of its square-looking branches and its bright red leaves in the autumn. When all other leaves in my yard are either brown or down, this bush is burning bright.

That brightness is what caught my attention recently. After strong winds and a powerful leaf blower removed all the leaves from my other trees and plants, this bush clung to most of hers. In my imagination it exhibited the characteristic of perseverance. It symbolizes for me an eternal flame.  

Moses’ burning bush was on the slope of the mountain of God, a peak holy to the religion of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian. At the time Moses was tending his father-in-law's sheep. He had a borrowed flock and a borrowed religion. On that day he took a moment to lean upon his staff for short break. After all, he was eighty years old. He deserved a short rest. 

That is when he noticed a fire that did not go out. Who knows how many years that bush had been burning with the fire of God? Had it been burning ever since he fled from Egypt to escape the executioner? Had it been calling Moses’ name for forty years, but only now Moses had the ears to hear and the eyes to see? 

On this particular day Moses went beyond the boundaries of his daily routine. He stepped off the beaten path and took the road less traveled to “the far side of the wilderness.” That is where he noticed it. That is why he noticed it. He called it an angel of the Lord, but the word angel simply means messenger. Messengers come in all shapes and sizes. That day the message of God came in the form of a bush. 

The burning bush represents the theophanies in our lives. Like Moses we only see them when we step outside the confines of our normal lives. We go beyond the thinking of traditional society and religion. We get to the “end of our rope,” and we let go. We come to the edge of the known world, and then we take one more step ... and arrive at “the far side of the wilderness.”  

That is where God dwells. Call this divine revelation whatever you want. Moses wanted to know this deity’s name, but the Messenger of the bush would not provide one. The Divine would not be labeled. The voice from the bush simply responded, “I am that I am.” From that enigmatic statement the Jews have come to revere the unnamable name of the Tetragrammaton, made up of four Hebrew consonants.    

The burning bush is one of the holiest stories of Scripture. But it is not just an experience of an ancient biblical patriarch. It can be the story of our lives. The burning bush may be experienced at some sacred site, or it may be in our own backyard. As Browning so eloquently wrote: “Earth's crammed with heaven, / And every common bush afire with God, / But only he who sees takes off his shoes; / The rest sit round and pluck blackberries.” 

It is long past blackberry picking season here in New Hampshire. It is even past the fall foliage season. The lowland leaf-peepers have all gone home, awaiting the first snow and open ski slopes. At this time of year – and life - it takes a careful eye to see the fire of God in the landscape of our lives. Sometimes – like it was with Moses - it is only in the autumn of life that we are able to spot our burning bush.  When we glimpse it, may we have the wisdom to take off our shoes, for this is holy ground.