So, apparently, The Rapture is scheduled to take place tomorrow, May 21st. Or October 21st. Or, possibly some time in between. I guess that’s why, though he announced a date, Reverend Camping left us guessing as to time.
And, that’s unfortunate.
You see, it’s clean-up day at the high school tomorrow. All football players and their parents are expected to attend. I suppose we could blow it off. I mean, it’s not as though they’ll be taking attendance, right? But there’s this feeling that if you don’t show up, the coach will notice. You’d be passing up an opportunity for face time, a chance to make an impression so indelible as to create a presence he won’t be able to ignore while fine-tuning the starting line-up. Yes, there is the perception that a day like tomorrow could make or break a kid’s high school football career, rapture notwithstanding.
I spoke with my grandson yesterday. He finished the conversation the same way he always does.
“When am I coming to your house, Nonni?
Had Reverend Camping seen fit to settle on a time, I might have planned a short visit. I could have arranged a sort of Bon Voyage party, just in case. I mean, granted, Elijah probably hasn’t been born again, but that could be because it hasn’t been an awfully long time since he was born the first time. Surely the selection committee wouldn’t hold that against him, right?
My son’s birthday is Monday, and he really, really wants to be fourteen. After all, he’s had a whole year to plan. In anticipation of the event, I purchased a pretty fancy guitar. It’d be a shame if he never got to play it, but I could probably get my money back. There are sure to be plenty of guitar players left behind…
And, of course, a pending rapture calls into question the need for cake. To bake, or not to bake? The cake my son has requested is, when complete, three layers of decadent gooey goodness. The ingredients aren’t cheap and preparation takes some time; time possibly better spent on “making arrangements”, if you catch my drift…
On the way to dinner tonight, my son gave a lecture on rapture. His knowledge was impressive considering his formal religious education is spotty, at best.
“The whole thing is bogus, Mom. I mean, anybody who reads the Bible knows that even predicting the rapture is a sin! Nobody’s supposed to know when that’s going to happen!”
This is the point at which I realized my son has been receiving Bible lessons from someone other than me. We’ve discussed God, rehashed stories, investigated traditions, and read many of the Psalms. I love the Psalms. David is among my favorite poets. But we only discussed Rapture once. I remember we were watching VH1….