Apocalypse?

There is one of the dying oak trees that I've been writing about on 365 recently. Having grown up in what might be called an apocalyptic cult, I suppose I am predisposed to see a tree die-off as a portent of imminent apocalypse. I actually spent half my teen-age and young-adult years explaining that Seventh Day Adventists were no more cult-like than, say, Baptists. We just went to church on Saturdays. Then, out of the blue, someone started sending me literature for "recovering SDAs," a rag from a group rabidly and vehemently trying to prove that SDA theology puts it into cult domain. But when I hear or read basic evangelical theology, I frankly don't see a whole lot of differences in the big picture.

In the church of my youth, plenty of exegetic focus was placed on the prophecies, especially Daniel and Revelation. All of human history can be mapped to the images presented. Of course, the 12 century interpreters of the mark of the beast were just as certain of their mappings as this year's interpreters. And the beast that rises from the sea has been identified variously as the Roman empire, Nazi Germany, the U.S.S.R, various middle eastern countries and also as the European Union. Maybe it rises in the future. Maybe it rises in the past. From the great distance afforded to me by adulthood and having assiduously stayed away for years from the mapping of prophecy onto current political reality, the fluidity with which the mappings are made contrasts remarkably with the certainty with which believers espouse them.
And yet, I see clearly that despite all of this intellectual skepticism, I have nevertheless completely internalized statement such as "A third of the earth was burned up, a third of the trees were burned up, and all the green grass was burned up. A third of the living creatures in the sea died," So, when I see ecological devastation, I cannot help but see the end of world, the ushering in of the final age, the preparation of the world for its terrible last gasp before the son of man arrives riding on a cloud no bigger than a man's hand.

So strange that I would start a month of thinking about the sacred by writing about my disenchantment with the doctrines developed using sacred texts. I tend to think of doctrine and spirituality as disjoint, maybe even anathema to each other. But my own thoughts on the subjects are so tangled, with such deep roots in my soul, that maybe it's not so strange.

[katy]

A very thought-provoking narrative! Awesome of you to bear yourself this way! I share your concern about the trees but wonder if it is not just a seasonal phenomenon rather than an annual one. An interesting photo to document whatever the case may be!

[GaryW]

I love reading your narratives. They open my mind to think of my own beliefs and, in fact, help to solidify them.

[Harry J Benson]

Good thought–provoking narrative

[Kathy]

Hmm. I rarely discuss politics or religion, so will continue in the vein. There was a blight on mimosa trees in the town where I live now. I am happy to say that they are growing and thriving again.