Tuesday, February 08, 2005


'I'm Ready to Die'
Fundamentalist Christianity Instills in Millions of American Followers a Depressing-and Dangerous-Nihilism

...He cut her off: "Look, the end is coming. I know that and you know that. You've seen the signs. I just don't care about this guy, I don't care what he says. The end is coming very soon. None of this is going to matter." For the first time showing emotion, he added angrily, "I'm ready to die-I'm ready to go today, right now!"

I immediately recognized this as rapture talk. This young man does have an incurable disease, but it's spiritual, not physical: It's called fundamentalism (aka "millennialism"), the kind of Christianity to which Bush and his "conservative" advisers ascribe.

Early last year, I overheard another conversation that made me tremble for this nation under Bush and his Dobsonian advisers. This one, however, brought back tragicomic memories of a childhood spent in fundamentalist churches.

No longer hearing that depressing conversation, images of a scary old barn flooded my mind. I was 14, and was riding with our youth group to a dark field out in the middle of nowhere. It was summer but dark, so it must have been 8:30 p.m. or later.

As we got out of our cars, we were taken to a huge barn--to this day I don't know what kind of barn, because it had no farm equipment in it--and seated in folding chairs facing a large pull-down screen. We giggled as usual, flirting and complaining about missing our favorite TV shows as the adults fiddled with the film projector. But we knew the score: when the film started, we were to be absolutely quiet and "reverent".

After a few words of prayer and a reading from Revelations, the youth director started the film. I remember vividly the opening scene: a boy of about 13 ("the age of accountability") is walking home from school. As he enters the house, he finds it empty.

"Mom? Mom!", the boy calls, but she doesn't answer. He shrugs and goes to the kitchen to get his own snack, looking annoyed. Then the music shifts to an ominous minor key, horror-movie style, and he begins to search the house. Holding a sandwich, he races through the house calling desperately, "Mom! Mom! Where are you?!"

Then the narrator explains--Mom has been raptured up into the heavens to be with God, leaving the boy bereft to regret his sinful ways, then burn in hell for all eternity. ...

...For a child raised in fundamentalist "conservative" churches, there is no safe haven. Everyone is a potential threat, not just of contamination of oneself--to burn for all eternity--but of causing the child to suffer the more tangible threat of losing his or her parents, siblings, and grandparents.

The rapture film and others like it strike at the very core of normal childhood needs for security and parental love. Those who succumbed to the rapture threats grew up to be legalistic Christians, paranoid and ever on the watch for sinful people. Contamination by Christians of other denominations was to be avoided at all costs. Imagine, then, how much greater the fear of Catholics (considered "a cult", not "Christian" by many fundamentalists), Jews, Muslims, and other "sinful" citizens. In Purity We Trust.

Google "purity" with names of Bush's conservative advisers and "think tank" writers: Notice how they promote this fearsome concept. Hitler knew the power of "purity", and so do today's fundamentalists: Avoid contamination by whatever means necessary.

To make a pure nation you have to break a few heads. Sure, people will die: the enemy, "our troops", maybe you, too. But it will have been worth it if even one soul is saved. Anyway, your choice is stark: Die today (be sure to repent first) or burn for all eternity. Be "ready to die" at every moment-because the end is coming. As Freddy Mercury sang so sadly, "nothing really matters anymore".

In our brave new fundamentalist nation, it really doesn't matter anymore how many people you kill, or how much of the earth's environment you destroy. What matters is this and only this: If you don't want to come home one day to an empty house and suffer in the lake of fire for all eternity, you'd better hate all the right people, bomb all the right countries, and back your rapture-ready president in whatever hare-brained scheme he comes up with next.

Life itself is a snare, a temptation of the flesh. Your safest bet is to repent and then die young, before you're Left Behind.