They tell how you turned to God from idols to serve the living and true God, and to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead—Jesus, who rescues us from the coming wrath.
I Thesslonians 1:9-10Tennis shoes.
A pair of jeans.
A set of empty clothes laid dramatically on the sidewalk as I was driving out of the neighborhood on my way to dance recital yesterday.
It took me a minute.
Took me a minute to process why someone had left a full set of clothes on the sidewalk.
And then I got it.
Funny. Very funny.
One of my clever neighbors had left a Rapture Wardrobe staged on the sidewalk in honor of the group that was claiming yesterday was the day the world would end and the Lord would return and those of us belonging to Him would be raptured to eternity.
It was a funny sight, given the week's headlines surrounding the claims of the well-intentioned but inaccurate Pastor Camping.
Funny. And profound.
Because, one way or another, there will be a day that each of us will leave this existence. And exchange it for another. And what has been our clothing and our shelter and our legacy will be left.
Like empty clothes discarded on a sidewalk.
And I suppose that's how all of these predictions and Mayan calendars and Nostradamus quatrains strike me...somewhat comical, somewhat mysterious, always thought-provoking.
It seems that, no matter how the world may be giggling today about Mr. Camping's prediction, it did spur on some fantastic discussion. Introspection.
And, unfortunately, another opportunity for the world to lump everyone who calls their theology 'Christian' into the same label, as if everyone who knows Christ as savior was buying into the Urim and Thummim of Camping's group.
But at the end of the day, a whisper carries on the wind to us all, whether we proclaim a pre-tribulation, post-tribulation, mid-tribulation theology. Or no theology at all. Or one that calls 'Ollie Ollie in come free!'
That whisper is this:
One day for everyone alive in this moment, there will come a moment where this life will end.
And what do we believe happens when that moment occurs? Because it is a central question. A central question that guides each of our lives, whether we actively think and act on it or not.
A pair of jeans.
Empty of their previous owner.
Such is the way of all flesh.