Anticipation

If you're the kind of person who is inclined to visit websites like this, then I probably don't need to tell you that over the last few years there has been a tremendous increase in speculation about the Rapture and its timing. To say it has reached fever pitch is almost an understatement, and the time frames being put forth by various watchmen who are being obedient to the Holy Spirit and study such things are getting increasingly compressed.

You may also be aware that such watchmen get no small amount of flack from those in what could politely be referred to as mainstream Christianity, from those in denominations both inside and outside the Evangelical fold. At the first whiff of speculation concerning the timing of the Rapture (assuming they even acknowledge the existence of this event), they will wag their bony fingers in the offender's face and quote the scriptural mantra:

"No man knoweth the day or the hour...so put a sock in it!"

(This being about as polite as it gets.) Ironically, many of those same people often don't make much of an effort to study Scripture in regard to end-time prophecy, and so may have only fuzzy ideas about what the Bible actually teaches about the end-time scenario, including the pre-trib Rapture.

Speaking of The Big Lie: There are also those disturbed souls for whom the pre-trib Rapture is an unbiblical escapist fantasy contrived in the early nineteenth century by a scalawag named John Nelson Darby, who based it on the lunatic ramblings of a teenaged Scottish girl named Margaret MacDonald. They insist that Satan has foisted it upon the Church in order to lull weak, unsuspecting believers into being caught flatfooted by the Tribulation and falling victim to his lies and those of his man the Antichrist, to whom they will flock with open arms after they realize their pwecious pwe-twib Wapture was The Big Lie—and as soon as they get their first hangnail during the Tribulation they were so cocksure they would be miraculously rescued from.

For them, speculation about the timing of the pre-trib Rapture is akin to trying to calculate precisely what time Santa's sleigh will touch down on your rooftop on Christmas Eve. Frankly, I'm not inclined to spend an inordinate amount of time dealing with such people. I figure they've made their eschatological beds and will slumber cozily in them until they are rudely awakened by the sound of a trumpet. Which they will. And soon.

I admit, however, that in years past I had a tendency to keep Rapture-date speculation at arm's length, and I have struggled over the years to make my private peace with it. In my humble opinion, it comes down to this:

As long as you (a) do your level best to make sure your speculation meshes with or at least doesn't explicitly or implicitly contradict Scripture, (b) openly and positively affirm that none of us will ever know the exact date of the Rapture with absolute certainty, and (c) routinely remind people that the doctrine of imminence hasn't been repealed and so they should continue to obey the Lord's command to wait in active anticipation for Him to take us home at any time, you're basically OK.

Confession time: I actually used to feel a little bit guilty about speculating in regard to the timing of the Rapture, as if I were doing something naughty or violating some command of Scripture that I had failed to interpret properly. Part of me felt as if I and others like me deserved our reputation as wack jobs sporting tin hats and drool cups, cut from the same cloth as the likes of the infamous Harold Camping. After all, certainly attempts by Christians to peg the timing of the pre-trib Rapture is the first time God's people have ever gotten caught up in such wild-eyed speculation, right?

If you said yes, I might have agreed with you—that is, until I wrote this article. I recently learned something fascinating about the first-century Jews, and you might say it shifted my whole perspective on this issue. It made me realize something that I never would have guessed in seven millennia:

When Christians speculate about the timing
of the Rapture, we're not doing anything new:
We're taking a page out of Israel's playbook.

First-century speculation

Although the messianic hopes of the Jewish people fluctuated from one period to another, it is true that several decades prior to the First Advent they began to eagerly anticipate the arrival of the Messiah. There is historical evidence that indicates a sudden wave of messianic expectation began to grow and intensify around the beginning of the first century, and by the time Jesus came on the scene around AD 25–30, it was about ready to boil over.

Most people (this writer included up until recently) normally ascribe this intensifying wave of messianic anticipation that was sweeping over Israel in the early first century as being primarily due to their subjugation by the Romans, which became a fait accompli in AD 6–7.

Let's back up for a moment for a bit of context. Roughly a millennium and a half earlier, Moses—the Jews' most venerated prophet—had led them out of bondage in Egypt. But just before they finally entered the Promised Land, Moses prophesied about the coming Messiah:

Well, it was Moses who led the people of Israel out of bondage in Egypt, so many assume this colored their expectations of the Prophet that God would send them in the future. The Jews understood this Prophet as being the promised Messiah, and many people automatically assume this gave the Jews an ingrained sense that the Messiah would come during a time when they were being subjugated by another people group. In other words:

Many people assume the Jews believed the Messiah had to be someone who would deliver Israel from bondage in a manner similar to Moses.

Thus, many assume the primary reason for this spike in messianic anticipation in the early first century was obviously due to the fact that they had fallen under the control of the Roman Empire. The Jews were once again under the thumb of a foreign power, so they assume this prompted them to begin speculating about the arrival of the Messiah. Makes sense, right?

There's just one small problem with this line of thinking, however. There is an ample amount of clear historical evidence that establishes the fact that it simply wasn't like that. In fact, the writings of numerous rabbis and Jewish sages make it completely clear:

Israel's keen anticipation of their
Messiah in the early first century
had little to do with the Romans.

Note that this somewhat surprising fact jives with history, because the Jews had also been under the thumbs of the Medo-Persians and the Greeks, with no clear or observable spikes in messianic expectations among the population during those respective time periods.

"C'mon, Bible Dude...it had to be the Romans. Everybody knows the Jews were looking for a second Moses, so they must have figured He'd come when they were being oppressed by another nation. If this first-century spike in messianic anticipation wasn't because of the Romans, then pray tell, what on earth was it due to?!"

Now, the fact that they happened to come under Roman control in the early first century went hand in hand with their messianic expectations, and certainly fit into the picture in a natural way. But that doesn't change the fact that the real impetus behind their intense messianic speculation during that particular time frame wasn't their occupation by the Romans.

The Romans fed into their speculation,
but they didn't ignite that speculation.

Just to flesh this picture out a bit, note that when Jesus rode into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey on the first Palm Sunday, He fulfilled the words of the prophet Zechariah:

Don't miss this (because the Jewish religious leaders sure didn't). Jesus was broadcasting to the Jews one highly significant truth:

Jesus was telling everyone in
Jerusalem in no uncertain terms
that He was the King of Israel.

And even the smallest child among them knew one thing:

Kings rule.

It's also interesting to note that the first thing this new King did was head straight to His "palace":

The temple.

Sadly, however, many of the people who hailed Him as King that day with shouts of "Hosanna!" did not recognize Him as their Savior—the one who would liberate them from their bondage to sin.

They only recognized Him as the one who would liberate them from their bondage to the Romans.

So again, even though the intense wave of messianic speculation in the early first century wasn't actually sparked by the Roman occupation, once Jesus actually appeared on the scene and presented Himself as their Messiah and their King, people naturally began thinking of Him in terms of someone who would throw off the yoke of their Roman oppressors, in addition to whatever other Messiah-like activities He had planned.

But just a few days later, when it became clear that Jesus had no intention of meeting their political expectations, the deal went south:

All those enraptured shouts of
"Hosanna!" quickly morphed into
enraged shrieks of "Crucify Him!"

Of course, the stark contrast between a majestic ruler in royal robes parading in on a magnificent steed in order to reign vs. a lowly servant in humble garments tottering in on the back of a donkey in order to suffer is fitting indeed. Jesus came the first time to seek and to save that which was lost—to give His life as a ransom for many, and to reign in the hearts and lives of those who would believe in faith.

The other will come in due time.

But absent the Roman occupation, why did the Jews begin to anticipate the arrival of their Messiah so fervently, starting around the beginning of the first century? Again, if it wasn't the Romans, then what was it?

The world week

According to numerous rabbis and Jewish sages, there was another far more significant and deeply entrenched reason the Jews were 99.9 percent certain the Messiah would come during the early first century—with their speculation focused on the period from AD 25–30.

The ancient Jews were heavily into biblical patterns, and one such pattern they had long believed, sometimes referred to as the "world week," translated the seven days of Creation into a corresponding "week" of seven millennia of earthly time. It was based on the fact that God created the heavens and the earth in six days and rested on the seventh, and they interpreted this to mean that human civilization would continue for 6,000 years and then be followed by the 1,000-year kingdom God had promised them. During this final 1,000-year kingdom, God alone would be glorified on earth.

Many Christians believe essentially the same thing, with many referring to this idea as the Millennial day theory. There are two verses that suggest this fundamental idea—one in the Old Testament and one in the New:

An Old Testament prophecy that actually puts this notion to work, however, is found in the book of Hosea:

Many believe Hosea is referring to the fact that 2,000 years ago, Israel fell under God's judgment for rejecting His Son (that's the "torn" and the "smitten" part). Two thousand years later ("after two days," which would translate to modern times) He will "bind up" and "revive" Israel, or bring them back into their land, re-establish them as a nation, re-introduce Himself to them at the climax of Gog-Magog, and spur them to re-establish their covenant relationship with Him. Then, following their final purging in the Great Tribulation, they will "live in His sight" during the Millennial Kingdom (the "third day"). Personally, I fully agree with this interpretation, since it fits the overall prophetic structure of the end-time scenario quite nicely.

Many Jews further surmised that this period of 6,000 years would be broken up into three periods of 2,000 years each:

(a) The first 2,000 years (the 1st and 2nd millennia): without the law.
(b) The next 2,000 years (the 3rd and 4th millennia): under the law.
(c) The next 2,000 years (the 5th and 6th millennia): the messianic era.

Here is one of several similar statements from the Babylonian Talmud:

Note that the division between (a) and (b) above seems a bit rough. According to most Old Testament timelines, Moses had given them the law roughly 1,400 to 1,500 years earlier, not two full millennia. Note also that these millennial periods are laid out slightly differently by a few other Jewish writers.

Be that as it may, however, working from Scripture and possibly their own records, Jewish scholars had calculated that the fourth millennium was set to end sometime around the year AD 30 (in other words, they hit the bullseye). Thus the fifth millennium—which they believed would be under the direct auspices of the Messiah—would be launched around the same time, and so they fully anticipated that this was about when the Messiah had to show up.

This coming change of millennium became a chronological marker for the Jews, and this is what they were anxiously looking forward to and what generated their messianic anticipation as the first century got underway—and it just happened to occur in conjunction with the rising specter of the rapidly expanding Roman Empire.

In his 1927 book on Israel's messianic speculation, Rabbi Abba Hillel Silver gives us some insight into the mindset of first-century Jews:

As we enter the fateful first century, it was primarily this looming chronological marker representing the end of the fourth/beginning of the fifth millennium that made the Jews go gaga with speculation over the imminent arrival of the Messiah. The Romans were incidental to their messianic speculation aimed at the early first century, although after AD 6–7 the Jews must have thought it apropos that the time of the Messiah's arrival was apparently slated to coincide with their subjugation by a foreign power.

Right on schedule: And whaddya know...in the target period of AD 25–30, a young drifter from Nazareth began traveling around the region, performing miracles, spouting parables about the kingdom of God, and calling a motley crew of misfits to follow Him.

Oh, and publicly putting the self-righteous Jewish religious leaders to humiliating silence at every opportunity.

And multitudes of common people began hailing Him as the Messiah.

What about those 70 weeks?

Any believer today who studies end-time prophecy must certainly be familiar with the Prophecy of the 70 Weeks, found in Daniel 9:24–27. This passage has been aptly referred to as the Rosetta Stone of Bible prophecy, as it provides the overarching structure upon which end-time prophecy is based. We also know that it pinpoints exactly when the Messiah would come the first time, two thousand years ago:

It is widely acknowledged by many Bible commentators that the starting point of the 70 weeks was a decree given by Artaxerxes in 444–445 BC, and the 69th week ended in around AD 30–32. And I'm not going to bother trying to push my own personal opinions about the precise dates on you, because all that does is start pointless arguments that no one ever wins.

Tread lightly: I will be the first to warn you that dealing with long counts of many thousands of days extending back many centuries BC can be notoriously tricky business. Ironically, online date calculators often make matters worse because they all too often yield conflicting dates and day-of-the-week information—and it's not necessarily because they are wrong, but because they are often programmed with different calendar-related assumptions. So, unless they possess genuine expertise in this field, no one has any business being dogmatic about precisely when an extended historical period of time began or ended, or what day of the week a certain date in ancient times might have fallen on. 'Nuff said.

But I would be remiss if I didn't share with you one of the classic efforts. Many people believe that Sir Robert Anderson nails it in his 1894 book The Coming Prince. Using Scripture and a lot of date-related information verified by the British Royal Observatory, Anderson determined that Daniel's first 69 weeks began on March 14, 445 BC. To obtain the total number of days that make up the 69 weeks, we have

69 x 7 = 483 years.

Using standard 360-day prophetic years, we have

483 x 360 = 173,880 days.

Taking into account 116 days for leap years, Anderson calculated that counting forward exactly 173,880 days from March 14, 445 BC brings us to April 6, AD 32, which he determined to be the exact day Jesus entered Jerusalem on the the first Palm Sunday. (FWIW, click here to see that at least TimeandDate.com agrees that April 6, AD 32 was a Sunday.)

Is he right? Are his calculations correct? Do many online date calculators confirm his work? I don't know. But I do know two things for absolute certain: (a) Robert Anderson knew a whole lot more about this subject than I and the vast majority of people who dabble in it ever will, and (b) there are others who disagree and have differing opinions. That's fine—so be it.

Well, that's all fine and dandy for Church Age believers who have the luxury of looking back at established historical events, but the first and most obvious question in relation to the topic at hand is this:

Q. What did the ancient Jews do with Daniel's prophecy? Did they see it as a way to calculate precisely when the Messiah would come, as we do in historical retrospect? Did it play into their messianic speculation that pointed to the early first century, or what?

Things admittedly get a bit fuzzy here, because after Christ came and was crucified and especially after the Second Temple was destroyed in AD 70, Judaism changed radically. Thousands of rabbis and Jewish sages did everything in their power to dismiss, downplay, and distance themselves from anything that could potentially point to Christ as the Messiah (after all, they did conspire to have Him executed like a common criminal). They got busy reinterpreting any Scripture and obfuscating any dates or chronologies that could be interpreted to suggest that Jesus really was their Messiah. They proceeded to pick up the pieces and reinvent Judaism, and this revamped version of the Jewish religion was based on two primary directives:

 RULE #1: JESUS CANNOT BE THE MESSIAH! 
 RULE #2: IN CASE OF DOUBT, SEE RULE #1. 

It can't be that impostor from Nazareth—no way, no how. End of conversation. And any shred of evidence that points in that direction must be denied, dismissed, denigrated, or reinterpreted to mean something entirely different—and for the last 2,000 years the Jews have done a whale of a job.

But there is clear and convincing historical evidence that there were rabbis and Jewish sages in ancient times who did in fact regard Daniel's prophecy as a predictive marker for the arrival of the Messiah. As one example, we have this observation from the Babylonian Talmud:

But in spite of the fact that there were Jews who believed Daniel's prophecy pinpointed the arrival of the Messiah, it's not clear that these were the views of the mainstream Jewish religious leadership (although they may have been to at least some extent). At first blush, it appears that most Jewish religious leaders were more keyed up over the coming change of millennium that we discussed earlier than they were in regard to Daniel's Prophecy of the 70 Weeks, which was interpreted in other ways by some.

Following the destruction of the Second Temple in AD 70, the primary messianic view of Jewish religious leaders morphed into the view that although the Messiah was supposed to come in the early first century, He didn't. Thus, the soul-searching question of paramount importance became:

Why didn't He come?

Most rabbis presumed it was due to Israel's sins, and taught that the Messiah might come when the Jews cleaned up their act to a sufficient degree:

Also, after the destruction of the temple, they began to become more attuned to the idea that if the Messiah had come when they had expected Him, He certainly would have overthrown their Roman oppressors. That change of millennium thing was all well and good; but if the Messiah really had come, those Romans would have been toast, by golly. And the reason is simple:

This gave the Jews yet another
contrived excuse to permanently
scratch Jesus off the Messiah list.

"Oh, did your Jesus free Israel from the Romans? No? Hmph...well, that proves He was less qualified to be the Messiah than Spider Man."

I've said it before and I'll say it again:

They knew: I am convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that most of the Jewish religious leaders knew down deep that Jesus really was the Messiah, but their hearts were so filled with seething hatred (and after the Resurrection, fear) that they couldn't bring themselves to acknowledge it. Besides the damning fact that in Matthew 28:11–15 we read that the chief priests bribed the Roman guards who were at Jesus' tomb with large amounts of silver and promises they would be "protected" to lie and say the disciples stole His body while they slept (an offense for which these Roman soldiers would have normally been executed), we see additional support for this in the words of Nicodemus if we're paying attention:

And maybe it's just me, but I believe that if it had become public knowledge back in those days that the Pharisees knew Jesus was the Messiah and had Him crucified anyway, they would have been dragged from their homes by angry mobs and stoned. And don't sit there and tell me these august Jewish religious leaders weren't keenly aware of that.

Many rabbis went so far as to discourage future generations of Jews from speculating about the possible time of the Messiah's arrival (hence the reinterpretation of every First Advent verse they could get their hands on and the deliberate jumbling and obfuscation of dates and chronologies). After all, they felt they had known with virtual certainty when the Messiah was supposed to come, but He simply hadn't come.

Notice the Jews never even entertained the notion that the Messiah had come when they expected, but that they had failed to recognize Him. No no no—anything but that. No way. They were absolutely convinced they had the timing right, but that the Messiah had chosen not to reveal Himself for some mysterious, unknown reason.

In other words, they considered
every possibility except the truth.

After the catastrophic first century, in the minds of many rabbis speculation about the timing of the Messiah's arrival came to be viewed as a fool's errand—an exercise in futility that was to be avoided.

"Repent! Do good deeds! Study the Torah! The Messiah will come when we're ready...or when He's ready. Or maybe both...who knows?"

It breaks my heart to see the spiritual condition of the Jewish people today, because even if they do look forward to the Messiah, they tend to think He will only come when they repent enough. Or do enough good deeds. Or study the Torah enough, ad infinitum, ad iustitia. That is, when they manage to become sufficiently righteous. They're just not quite righteous enough, you know? If they could just become a little more righteous...that's the ticket. Then the Messiah might come.

Righteousness through the law/works:
After thousands of years, that's one thing
about the Jews that has never changed.

But it will soon enough, glory to His holy name!

Some final thoughts

So, as we have seen, Israel was certainly involved in a great deal of speculation in the early part of the first century concerning the timing of the Messiah's first arrival, and that speculation was based on their interpretation of certain scriptural principles.

One question that might arise in the minds of some is this:

Q. Were the Jews doing anything wrong by speculating about the timing of the Messiah's first coming?

It's an honest, legitimate question, because to listen to some people, you'd think born-again believers today who speculate about the Messiah's next coming in the form of the Rapture are among the wack jobs I mentioned earlier in the article, complete with tin hats and drool cups. Such people see those who engage in any species of speculation about the timing of the Rapture as a bunch of screwballs who are wantonly violating their mantra that "no man knoweth the day or the hour" and that should just shut their traps.

"And while you're at it, how about chipping in and helping us infiltrate and take over the pillars of society so Jesus can return someday."

Now, in regard to first-century Israel, consider for a moment what Jesus said as He approached Jerusalem on the back of that donkey:

As Jesus weeps over the fate of Israel, He laments the judgment that awaits God's Chosen People. And the reason for that judgment?

They knew not the time of their visitation.

The word translated "visitation" in verse 44 is a form of the Greek word episkopé, which is formed from epí (on) and skopéō (to look upon intently, examine, inspect). So, episkopé typically refers to some type of oversight or inspection that proceeds to administer whatever remedy that is judged to be appropriate to the condition.

And that certainly describes what Jesus had come to do: You might say He came to "inspect" Israel's spiritual condition and "administer" substitionary atonement—the only "remedy" in existence for the prevailing condition.

Spoiler alert: Incidentally, it's also worth noting that Jesus says these things as He is approaching Jerusalem—that tells us He already knows what's going to happen once He's there...and how it's going to end.

But consider: Was Jesus angry because the Jews had engaged in speculation about when He would come? No, not a bit. Was He upset because they had no idea when He would appear? No, because they did.

The Jews' speculation in regard to the time frame in which the Messiah would arrive was fairly accurate. I mean, they pretty much nailed it. And as you read Luke 19:44, you sorta get the idea that Jesus expected the Jews to know the time He would come. But more importantly, He expected them to recognize Him as their Messiah. The problem was that when Jesus presented Himself to them, as a nation they rejected Him and conspired to have Him executed like a loathsome criminal. In other words:

The Jews actually nailed the time of their visitation.
The problem is they nailed their Visitor to a cross.

And as a result, that "remedy" went out to a lost and dying Gentile world while Israel fell under God's judgment.

Another question that might occur to some is in regard to what Jesus said to His disciples just before He ascended to heaven. In the book of Acts, we see Jesus together with His beloved disciples on the Mount of Olives, and they are wondering if Jesus is about ready to finally establish that kingdom God promised them, or what.

The disciples had no doubt been doing their fair share of speculating among themselves about the Lord's next move, and were clearly anticipating that He was finally about to establish the long-awaited kingdom—and that they would be getting in on the ground floor.

Of course, we have the luxury of hindsight—we know the kingdom was 2,000 years in the future, but obviously they didn't. All they knew was "Messiah equals kingdom," and so they were champing at the bit. And of course, Jesus knew what they were thinking.

But the question is this:

Q. Did Jesus upbraid them for speculating about when He would establish the kingdom? Did He tell them to stop thinking about the timing of the kingdom, or that it was none of their business?

No, not at all. Actually, it was very much their business, because they knew they were going to play a key role in running that kingdom.

All Jesus did was gently remind them that it wasn't for them to know the precise timing of the kingdom and other related events, because the Father had (wisely) set the timing of these things under His own authority.

It doesn't follow: One thing that bugs me is that a lot of people assume that when Jesus said the timing of end-time events wasn't for us to know, this automatically made it a sin to engage in any type of speculation about the timing of the Rapture. I'm sorry, but no, it doesn't—this is a non sequitur that must be read into Scripture. If you keep your speculation in tune with the Word, openly acknowledge that we will never know the date for certain, and encourage people to continue to wait with active anticipation, then assuming the mere fact that we will never know the date of the Rapture for certain automatically makes it wrong to speculate about its timing is completely illogical. And by the way, the exact same argument applies to the mantra of "No man knoweth the day or the hour." Assuming that statement makes it a sin to engage in reasonable speculation about the timing of the Rapture is equally divorced from any species of logic.

Consider this: If the disciples had known that the kingdom was 2,000 years in the future, do you think they would have been as motivated to take the gospel to the world with the same degree of urgent, self-sacrificial commitment? Mmm...maybe not quite so much. They probably assumed that as soon as they accomplished their mission, Jesus would return as promised.

And if they saddled up and got it in gear, the Lord could very well return during their lifetimes!

And that's really the point. There is a very good reason why God has seen fit to keep the exact timing of the Rapture and other end-time events close to the vest, so to speak. The Father knows that if He were to reveal to us the details of the timing of events such as the Rapture, we would lose our minds and fall all over ourselves in our clumsy, misguided efforts to "help" and do nothing but get in the way and louse things up.

If God were stupid enough to reveal the
timing of the Rapture, we as believers would
be so busy making a nuisance of ourselves
He'd scarcely be able to get anything done.

Nor would we.

But on the other hand, He repeatedly told us to watch. Note that the word "watch" has a dual meaning: It can mean to watch our spiritual lives and live circumspectly, and it can mean to watch for the signs of the times so we are aware of how the end-time scenario is progressing. Yes, He told us to watch. Why? Why do you think? Because there are signs to watch for—and He wants us to be able to see that the time is drawing near as we see those signs. And we aren't going to see those signs unless we are watching.

And Scripture-based, sign-sensitive
speculation about the nearness or
approximate timing of the Rapture is
a natural aspect of that watching.

In reality, such end-time speculation is a vital way the Lord keeps us from sliding into the slackadaisical, ho-hum rut of thinking He may return some fine day in the sweet by and by (if ever), so it's business as usual. Never mind all those signs and end-time prophecies that are being fulfilled. Forget all that tinfoil-hat stuff...after all, it's obviously just allegory anyway—and that pre-trib Rapture of yours is nothing but a pie-in-the-sky pipe dream.

Make no mistake—this is exactly how untold millions of people in the Church today have been taught to think.

And it goes a long way toward explaining why they are so misled and uninformed concerning what is barreling toward us at breakneck speed.

And you know what? Now that I think about it...OK, maybe it's a wee bit of an apples-and-oranges thing, but hear me out:

Isn't the idea that God is angry at us for engaging in reasonable, Scripture-based, sign-sensitive speculation about the possible timing or time frame of the Rapture a bit like a father scolding his children for excitedly trying to guess the contents of gifts under the Christmas tree with their names on them? I mean, yeah, it's not for them to know, and they won't know until it's time, and all that. Kids aren't stupid...they know the drill. But c'mon...any father I would admit to knowing takes the most sublime pleasure in that. Do you suppose our Heavenly Father is all that terribly different in regard to His children?

And let me say one other thing before I close this out: It occurs to me that scolding or belittling believers for engaging in reasonable speculation about the possible timing or time frame of the Rapture is a marvelous, highly effective way of discouraging them from even talking about the Rapture...or perhaps even admitting to believing in our blessed hope, maybe?

Now, let's put on our thinking caps:

Q. Who in the world would want to do a thing like that?

A. Rats, where did I put that thinking cap of mine...

As I was working on this article, on a whim I went to YouTube to listen to Carly Simon's 1971 hit "Anticipation" (I remembered how the chorus went, but my usually trustworthy musical memory was letting me down on the verses). Hey, I'm not saying the Holy Spirit led me to listen to Carly Simon, but still...the very first line socked me right between the eyes:

"We can never know about the days to come,
But we think about them anyway."

KA-BOOM! No, we don't know the precise details of the days to come, but God never intended for us to. And there lies the simple essence of how I believe God wants us to view what is rapidly approaching this world that is not our home in these last of the last days:

No, we don't know the details
of the days to come—but we
certainly do think about them,
and God did intend for us to.

No, God never intended for us to know the date of the Rapture with a high degree of certainty, and we never will—you can take that to the bank. But He absolutely wants us to "think about it," and "thinking about it" involves obeying His command to study His prophetic Word and watch for signs He reveals—signs that enable us to cultivate a sense of its nearness and its possible approximate time frame.

This naturally involves some degree of speculation on our part, and it helps lead us to and keep us in the state that God wants us to remain in until we hear the sound of a trumpet:

Anticipation.

Greg Lauer — NOV '22

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