Monday, May 23, 2011

A Sermon I Might Have Never Preached

Once in a while circumstances demand a departure from a sermon series.  Certainly the end of the world is one of those occasions.  Frankly, I hadn't planned to talk about Harold Camping's predictions of the End on May 21 but some members asked me what I thought.  So, I decided there might be an interest and put together this sermon, using some materials I had presented in a class on American church history.    I would never predict when the Lord will return but I will predict a sermon like this will needed again--sometime.   Having said that, see my next post, "I Predicted This."
2 Peter 3:3-4
The scoffers Peter talks about were mistaken but so too are those who mark their calendars with the assurance of Christ's Return on their schedules. Things are seldom the same after such a debacle.
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When I first saw the billboard on Morse Road, I thought its message “Judgment Day May 21, 2011” was some kind of advertisement.   But I couldn’t really imagine just what it would be promoting.  Maybe some major event in the world of professional wrestling?  In time, I realized it was talking about “Judgment Day,” the one in the Bible.  I was teaching a church history class at the time and drew a comparison to events in early nineteenth century America, especially the story of William Miller.
As the nineteenth century began, Americans had a flirtation with the skepticism that was part of the European culture, especially in France.  Some Americans began to claim the church had lost its appeal, that the gospel had nothing to offer.  In Kentucky, some communities began with no intention of ever having a church.
Then, about 1801, a spiritual awakening began throughout the land.  Thousands were converted and the spiritual live of the nation was revived.  It was during this revival that the camp meeting became a feature of Christianity on the frontier.  Camp meetings drew together men and women from miles around.  They experienced powerful emotions that were manifested in unusual behavior—shouting, barking, something called “the jerks.”  In time, these excesses subsided but some at the camp meetings engaged in speculation about the future.
Peter Cartwright (1785-1872) was converted at the famous Cane Ridge camp meeting, August 1801, and became a Methodist evangelist.  He spent years as an itinerant evangelist at camp meetings and became something of an authority some of the strangest behaviors at the meetings.  His later years were spent as a presiding elder in Kentucky and Illinois.  He served in the state legislature in Illinois and was defeated in a bid for the US Congress by another transplanted Kentuckian, Abraham Lincoln.
The following excerpt is from Cartwright’s autobiography where he talks about some of the most disturbing things he noticed:
From these wild exercises, another great evil arose from the heated and wild imaginations of some. They professed to fall into trances and see visions… and, under the pretense of Divine inspiration, predict the time of the end of the world, and the ushering in of the great millennium.
This was the most troublesome delusion of all; it made such an appeal to the ignorance, superstition, and credulity of the people, even saint as well as sinner. I watched this matter with a vigilant eye. If I opposed it, I would have to meet the clamor of the multitude; and if anyone opposed it, these very visionists would single him out, and denounce the dreadful judgments' of God against him. They would even set the very day that God was to burn the world, like the self-deceived modern Millerites. They would prophesy, that if anyone did oppose them, God would send fire down from heaven and consume him. Such a state of things I never saw before, and I hope in God I shall never see again.
Some American Christians were already fascinated with the future when William Miller came on the scene.
After his conversion from Deism in the mid-1820s, Miller became a Baptist lay preacher in his native New England.  In 1828, Miller began studying Biblical prophecy.  A few years later, he began promoting March 21, 1844, as the time of Christ’s Second Coming.  When Christ did not come—even after the date had been revised—Miller defended himself by claiming the biblical texts had been improperly transmitted or that God was testing them.  His followers (30,000 to 100,000) had staked their future on his claims. Though they never wore ascension robes and sat on hillsides to greet Christ, some sold their businesses and gave away their money.   Many were disheartened by “the great disappointment” but others continued to follow Miller.   It seems incredible but some of his followers continued to await Christ’s coming which they believed was only weeks or months away.   Though Miller stopped making predictions, one of his followers named October 22, 1844, as the date of Christ’s Return.  When that didn’t work out, more of Miller’s followers left but some remained.  (I suspect Harold Camping will still have followers even after this weekend.)
In the eyes of most non-Christians, all Christians were seen as foolish.  Historian Ernest Sandeen wrote, “The failure of [Miller’s] predictions disillusioned most of his followers and marked the whole millenarian cause, rightly or wrongly, with the stigma of fanaticism and quackery.”
J. Edwin Orr, a student of spiritual awakenings, suggests that Miller’s folly was one of the three major reasons for the decline in American Christianity in the mid-1800s.
Interestingly, in the late 1840s American mental health specialists—yes, there were some back then—began to admit patients to asylums with conditions related what they called “Millerism.”
Christians may have stopped talking about the future for a while, but eventually it became a topic of conversation again.  The most responsible leaders did their best to prevent even the hint of date setting. 
Still, some would make the wildest predictions and once again bring embarrassment to the churches.  That should surprise no one.  It had happened before Miller and it was hardly surprising that it happened again.
There are scriptural warnings against such date-setting but ignoring scriptural warnings is hardly unprecedented.  And, of course, it is always possible to tweak the Scripture if we need to.  Take, for example, Jesus’ words, “It is not for you to know times or seasons which the Father has put in His own authority.”  That might seem to put an end to date-setting but it doesn’t.   All someone claiming to know the date has to say is, “Of course, Jesus was talking about that time and those people.  He didn’t say that later Bible students wouldn’t have clearer insights or receive special revelations.”  There have always been those willing to claim such insights or revelations.  Just as important, there have always been those willing to believe them.
The question is, why are they willing to believe such fantastic claims?  I’ll begin to answer that by pointing to some generalities.  Certainly, we have to mention ignorance of the Bible.  Some Christians have never grasped the great themes of the Bible so they can spot someone misusing the text or presenting an imbalanced perspective.  They’ve never learned even the most basic principles for interpreting the Bible.  Then, too, people are susceptible to being misled if they aren’t part of a Christian community that offers a corrective balance.    We all need to be in a place where a Christian brother or sister will hear us out and then say, “I wonder if that is true.”
With these in mind, let me offer a few more reasons why some would follow a teacher like Harold Camping.
1.        Some are tired and are yearning to escape what they perceive to be a difficult place to live.
Look at the news.  There is war in the Middle East, a seemingly endless war.  There is an uncertain economic future.  Parents are murdering children.  Children are murdering parents.  When you were a child you played out of sight of your parents until your mother called you home for the meal she had spent the day cooking.  Today, you panic if your child is out of your sight for only a moment.  It is a frightening, unforgiving world.  No wonder some people long to leave. 
Not only does the Rapture promise escape for the faithful, it promises judgment for the wrongdoers.  Injustice will be righted.  The tables will be turned.
2.  Some relish having an edge, to claim insight the rest of us don’t possess.
Remember the taunting voice of the snotty little kid you grew up with saying, “I know something you don’t know.”  If knowledge is power, special knowledge is special power.  It sets us apart, it suggests privilege, and it marks someone as being a favorite.
The false teachers we’ve been looking at in Colossae used that appeal.  They claimed special knowledge.  It’s a situation that feeds off pride.
3.  Some people want to be on the winning side.
The desire to be on the winning side is so strong that evidence saying we are wrong is ignored, denied, or explained away.  Psychologists call this “cognitive dissonance,” a symptom Marvin Pate discusses in his book Doomsday Delusions.  Some were disappointed by yesterday but will almost certainly continue to listen to Harold Camping, continue to send him support, stand willing to mark their calendars with the next date he offers.  Their hearts and minds cannot let them accept the fact they were wrong.
After being part of a group claiming to be at the forefront of prophetic insight, it would be hard to return to a sedate, ordinary church
Then, too, it might be hard to return to a church where the pastor and almost everyone else chose not to accept your take on the End, wouldn’t even adorn their cars with May 21 bumper stickers.  Even if they did not mock you, their kindness would be hard to take.
Like many of Miller’s followers, you might simply drop out of church or join some cult.
Maybe the best antidote to these ways of thinking is a balanced Christian world view.  That only comes when we are willing to acknowledge our limits, rely on the word God has given us, and rejoice in his grace that sustains us even when times are tough.
Those in Peter’s day who scoffed at the idea of the Second Coming, needed to have a correct perspective on God’s dealings with the world.  We do too.
We also need to remember that Christians have long differed in their views of the end.  The popularity of the “Left Behind” series has caused some people to believe all Christians believe the same thing about how it all will end.  We only have to go back to the beginning of the 20th century to get a clearer picture.
Christians tended to approach the new century either with optimism or pessimism.  Some Christians argued that things would get better and better.  The church would usher in the Kingdom, an era marked by peace and justice.  This is a view called post-millennialism.  Other Christians, embracing the increasingly popular premillenialism, insisted that things would get worse and worse, only Christ’s return would make a difference.
Consider this hymn by H. Ernest Nicols, one you may have sung at a mission conference:
We’ve a story to tell to the nations,
That shall turn their hearts to the right,
A story of truth and mercy,
A story of peace and light,
A story of peace and light.
Refrain
For the darkness shall turn to dawning,
And the dawning to noonday bright;
And Christ’s great kingdom shall come on earth,
The kingdom of love and light.
Written in 1896, the hymn reflects the postmillennial idea that the preaching of the gospel and the advance of Christian ideals would transform the world to the extent that it would be ready for the arrival of Christ’s Kingdom.  It’s hard for us, still in the early years of the 21st century, not quite a decade after 9/11, to appreciate the optimism with which many Christians greeted the 20th century.  For most, that optimism would not be shaken until 1914 and the beginning of “the Great War,” sometimes called “the war to end all wars.”
Again, perhaps at the same mission conference, you’ve sung this little song.
Work, for the night is coming,
Work through the morning hours;
Work while the dew is sparkling,
Work ’mid springing flowers;
Work when the day grows brighter,
Work in the glowing sun;
Work, for the night is coming,
When man’s work is done.
Written a few years earlier by eighteen-year-old Anna Coghill, this hymn is also about evangelism but it clearly has a different view of the future.  The church had to get busy because the night was coming when the opportunity to win others to Christ would be no more.
One thing both perspectives held in common is the truth that God is in charge.  When the sun rose this morning, I hope those who may have been disappointed yesterday, really remember this.
Conclusion:
A couple months ago, Pat and I were eating at a Chipotle’s at Polaris.  A man walked in wearing a hat and tee-shirt with the “Judgment Day May 21, 2011” statement.  But what really got my attention was the man’s son, who couldn’t have been more than seven.  The little boy was also wearing a “Judgment Day” shirt and hat.
I remember wondering, does this little boy have any idea what his slogans mean.  Today, I am wondering what that father has told his son this morning.  Did he say, “Son, I was wrong?”  Or did he say, “Son, we’ll be getting some new hats soon.” 
I wonder if that little boy is in Sunday school this morning and a church somewhere this morning.  Somehow I doubt it.
Still, I hope that somehow, at some age, that little boy will encounter a church committed to the Bible’s message, not to the message of some guru who claims insights unavailable to us ordinary Christians.
I hope that little boy learns a balanced understanding of the Christian faith.  I’m speaking of an understanding that includes the “last things,” but is not obsessed with the future, an understanding that affirms our certainties and admits the limits of our knowledge. 
I hope that little boy encounters a church that declares the good news of God’s grace.  I want him to learn to marvel at how many will be saved, not take delight in predicting how few will be saved.
I want him to enjoy fellowship with spiritual brothers and sisters who are united by a common commitment to Christ, not by a slavish surrender to some extra Biblical scheme for understanding the future.
I want him to learn that humility about our assertions is not necessarily doubt and that arrogance about our beliefs is not a sign of faith.
I want him to find real peace, real joy, real hope.
For that little boy’s sake, for the world’s sake, I’d like us to be that kind of church.



[1]  Preached 22 May 2011 following Harold Camping’s failed prediction of the end of the world on 21 May.