#book be unearthing feels i'd forgotten i had lmao

[queenlua]

@irandrura said: Wait, isn’t the premise of the Left Behind series, the first thing that happens at the start of the first book, that the Rapture happened? So shouldn’t “THE RAPTURE HAPPENED” be exhibit A in your attempt to convert someone?

irandrura said: Disclaimer: The Rapture is some weird American thing, as a Christian I take no responsibilities for what weird heresies Americans are into.

YEAH, ABOUT THAT.

You’d certainly think that “millions of people miraculously disappear” would be a “I guess the [Evangelicals] were right” moment.  In such a scenario, atheism becomes obviously irrational; anyone with half a brain would be looking into what people wrote about the Rapture or whatever.

Of course, this is a fictional book, so I knew that most people would still reject God, because the book’s whole premise is “small band of persecuted Christians vs the world.”

But I thought that, at least, people would reject God for reasons like: “I think it’s fucked-up that God disappeared so many people I love, and I don’t want to worship a God like that.”  Or: “I get that people disappeared, so that means it’s too late for us; may as well party it up while we can.”  Or: “So many people who thought they were saved didn’t get raptured; it seems like there’s no guarantee this pans out even if I do convert.”  You know, plausible reasons based on even an ounce of understanding human psychology.

(under a cut because long)

Instead, like... Rayford (the dad) visits his local church, and Chloe (the daughter) doesn’t because “I’m just not ready yet.”  When Rayford points out WOW A RAPTURE SURE JUST HAPPENED, she’s like, “Well, I think something weird happened, but this religion stuff is kind of out there, you know?”

What???  Millions of people just disappeared!!!  I do not believe anyone would call religion “out there” after such an event happened, oh my god, what is this author’s theory of mind even.

And all of the reasons for Chloe’s reluctance remind me of—well, of the absolute caricature portraits of unbelief that I was given in my fundie church, growing up.  We needed to badger our friends into coming to church, and not take “I’m just not feeling it” as an answer, because that just meant they were too proud to humble themselves and come to see God’s truth.  Atheists didn’t just have a very different set of priors and way of reasoning about the world; it was their pride and arrogance in their own intelligence that kept them bound to their sinful ways.  That sort of shit.

And these portraits just aren’t... true.  They’re so untrue as to be insulting.

And yet, reading them is honestly a bit fascinating because—I remember what that worldview felt like?

I mean, it never set entirely well with me, which is why I ended up leaving.  But I remember scheming ways to try and get more converts, and being so convinced this was how you saved lives.  I remember thinking, if someone rejects Jesus, that must be ignorance or arrogance, because the church tells me so; there’s never anything like a good or understandable reason to be wary.  (Cringe.)

In this awful, narrow, tedious, solipsistic worldview, I guess it makes sense that an author could write a character who veers away from faith for tepid, vague, weasel-word-y reasons, because if you’ve started with the prior “there’s no comprehensible reason to reject Jesus,” then you probably just can’t imagine various principled reasons someone may say no, even at the end of the world.

This all makes me sound more bitter than I am.  I got out of my fundie church with relatively minimal damage; I appreciated the opportunity to wrestle with faith; it wasn’t all awful.

But it’s sort of horrifying to see what the author believes about people, and morality, vis-á-vis these books, because like: this narrative tells us Rayford is a decent person because he loves his family.  He loves his family so much he straight-up ignores other people who have died in this catastrophe; he doesn’t spare a second thought for the victims of a plane crash or his copilot who died of suicide; at no point does he reach out to anyone else who could be grieving or suffering.

And the narrative tells us Rayford is a decent person because he repeatedly badgers his daughter into converting, and we are told by the narrator that he’s doing this just because he loves her so much, not out of any selfish motivation to see her in heaven.

It’s the Christianity of so many pompous middle-aged southern Baptists in my hometown, and it’s honestly eerie to me.  I remember being so confused, why I got so much stink-eye in my church when I asked why didn’t we spend more time helping people, why were we wasting money on ski trips and glorified vacations to Scotland that were thinly disguised as “mission trips,” that wasn’t what the Bible told us to do at all—and, well, now I’m not confused at all.  I was supposed to just shut up and “love” my family and then enjoy God’s blessings.  Sigh.