Oops. He missed it again---the date for the rapture, that is. But that’s okay, miscalculating the date for the end times is nothing new for Harold Camping.
In 1992 he published his book, “1994?” in which he predicted September 6, 1994 as the beginning of the end. Undeterred by that non-happening, Camping did some re-calculating and published another book in 2008, “We Are Almost There!” He conveniently forgot to mention his 1994 prediction’s failure to launch.
Then, last summer, Camping and his followers made another effort to spread the word: “The rapture is nigh!” Specifically, May 21, 2011. At exactly 6 p.m.
Now that it didn’t happen, Camping simply revised his date…again. He apologized, sort of, for not having the dates “worked out as accurately as I could have.” May 21 was a “spiritual judgment.” The world won’t really come to an end until October 21, 2011.
Aren’t you glad he clarified that?
Camping was preceded in his revision by one of his own followers, Robert Fitzpatrick--- who plunked his entire life savings of $140,000 into advertising the rapture.
Give it some time, and we can anticipate more of the same from rapture rousers.
That’s because there is something comforting in being assured that you will escape the worst of times by being whisked into the heavenlies. And the harder the times, the more urgent becomes the call for the apocalypse.
People are curious; they want to know: when will it happen?
Those who claim to know created a rapture racket that has reaped big financial dividends.
According to Family Radio’s IRS filings, contributions and grants to Camping’s organization topped $18 million last year. Warning the doomed of their fate in the predicted apocalypse wasn’t cheap. Family Radio spent as much as $1 million on the billboard campaign alone. But, what’s a mere $1 million when your radio network’s net worth is about $122 million?
So, when 6 p.m. May 21, 2011 came and passed uneventfully, Harold Camping may have been hurt, but not financially. He still sat on a personal net worth estimated at $72 million.
That’s right, $72 million.
“$72 million,” I whimsically thought to myself at approximately 6:01 p.m. Saturday as I scanned the horizon for any paranormal activity. Later, I repeated the figure aloud to myself, sitting in my lawn chair on our back patio, picturing how many hungry and homeless people could be fed and housed with just half of $72 million, and fantasizing what I would do with just a fraction of the revenue gleaned from the rapture racket.
Camping is not the only one who has profited from the prediction of the world’s end. Bart Centre, an atheist, sells insurance policies to those who might be worried about what will happen to their pets in the event that the raptured believers will leave their dearly beloved behind.
Then there is Mark Herrod, who according to the Wall Street Journal is a 52-year-old Evangelical Christian who created a business for believers who want emails sent to friends and relatives in the event of the rapture. He has over 100 clients who pay $14.95 a month for the service.
And then there are those who hawked T-Shirts and assorted paraphernalia. There was the "I Survived Judgment Day! and All I Got Is This Lousy T-Shirt" shirt for $25, the "2011 Rapture Survivor" mug ($15), the "Darn, I Slept Through Judgment Day" baby onesie ($15), and the truism, "If you can read this, we're both sinners--- 5-21-11," available in shirt, mug or thong ($15-25).
And I’m on the patio, warmed by the glow of the setting sun even as I’m plagued by thoughts of the homeless, hungry and hurting, and yes, rising expenses in my own house.
Then, I recall that Jesus never promised it would be easy this side of eternity, even though ultimate victory is promised to the believer. The trouble is, we just don’t know what the date is for that final triumph, for Jesus himself put a damper on rapture predicting when he said, “No one knows the day or hour when these things will happen, not even the angels in heaven or the Son himself” (Matthew 24:36).
And Jesus had stern words for those who focus on the irrelevant as they grab more and more while ignoring the needs of people in front of them: “When you refused to help the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were refusing to help me” (Matthew 25:45).
Now, that’s the message I’d like to see on a T-shirt or billboard---somewhere, anywhere. The only problem is---this side of the apocalypse, who on earth will buy it?
David B. Whitlock, Ph.D. is Pastor of Lebanon Baptist Church in Lebanon, Ky. and an adjunct instructor at Campbellsville University in Campbellsville, Ky. You can contact David at drdavid@davidbwhitlock.com.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Pornography: Unplug the Drug
Why did the news that the Osama bin Laden’s residence contained a sizable amount of pornography grab our attention? After all, our culture is saturated with pornography; it’s everywhere; it’s even an accepted part of life for much of society.
So why are we surprised? Bin Laden--- mass murderer that he was--- nonetheless exuded an image of religiosity. Professor Akbar Ahmed, Ibn Khaldun Chair of Islamic Studies at the American University in Washington DC, observed in an interview on ABC news that “it is surprising that pornography was found because he (bin Laden) was known to be a rather austere man, a rather religious man, a man who…gave up the world.”
Even if he turned his back on the world, pornography followed bin Laden---at least into his compound. ABC news correspondent Martha Raddatz reported that although we can’t know for certain that bin Laden actually viewed the pornography, it was found right there in his bedroom, and according to Reuters news, it was a fairly extensive amount of pornography at that.
It is the suspicion of hypocrisy that attracts our attention. Bin Laden was unequivocal in his denunciation of what he believed was the US exploitation of women. In a 2002 letter to the American people, he railed, ''Your nation exploits women like consumer products or advertising tools, calling upon customers to purchase them,'' he wrote. ''You plaster your naked daughters across billboards in order to sell a product without any shame. You have brainwashed your daughters into believing they are liberated by wearing revealing clothes, yet in reality all they have liberated is your sexual desire.''
That’s a fairly accurate description of a pornographic industry that is worldwide today, an industry that may have seduced an otherwise religious and austere Osama bin Laden.
That’s why pornography is usually a private affair: secrecy conceals shame and shuns embarrassment. But hidden habits lend themselves to hypocrisy. And we flinch at hypocrisy, especially when we sense it in a person who wears a religious image.
It’s difficult to keep something as potentially powerful as pornography under the bed forever. Like a drug, pornography can be addictive. Scientists surmise that dopamine and oxytocin are released in the male brain during intimacy. According to behavior therapist, Andrea Kuszewski, it’s a “biochemical love potion.” But, these same neurotransmitters fire when watching porn. “You’re bonding with it,” says Kuszewski, “and those chemicals make you want to keep coming back to have that feeling.” Men, in effect, can develop a neurological attachment to porn.
Of course, the negative downside of that sensual high is that pornography replaces real relationships. In her article, “The Porn Myth,” feminist Naomi Wolf argues that the internet has “pornographized,”our culture. The effect is that instead of amplifying men’s sexual activity with their actual partners, it renders men less sexually responsive to real women. That’s because erotic images replace real people.
The result: some men prefer porn over real life partners. The recently released movie, No Strings Attached, has Alvin (Kevin Kline) complaining to his roommate, Adam (Ashton Kutcher), “I can’t focus on my porn with all this real sex going on.”
With porn on the brain, meaningful intimacy is a challenge. As a 43 year old composer put it an interview with New York Magazine: “I’ve got to resort to playing scenes in my head that I’ve seen while viewing porn. Something is lost there. I’m no longer with my wife; I’m inside my own head.”
No doubt, porn messes with the mind. But it’s a matter of the heart as well, as Proverbs 4:23 would remind us: “Above all else guard your heart for it determines the direction of your life.” And Jesus of Nazareth took dead aim at those who pretend that as long as it’s a secret, it’s not really a sin: “Anyone who even looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Matthew 5:28).
Maybe bin Laden would have agreed with Jesus, since his own holy book, the Qur’an states, “Tell the believing men to lower their gaze and protect their private parts. That is purer for them. Verily, Allah is all-aware of what they do...” (24.30-31)
But apparently it was difficult for bin Laden to unplug the drug of pornography, especially since it was in the privacy of his bedroom, where certainly no one would ever intrude without an invitation.
David B. Whitlock, Ph.D. is Pastor of Lebanon Baptist Church in Lebanon, Ky. He is also an adjunct instructor in the School of Theology at Campbellsville University in Campbellsville, Ky. You can email David at drdavid@davidbwhitlock.com or visit his website www.davidbwhitlock.com
So why are we surprised? Bin Laden--- mass murderer that he was--- nonetheless exuded an image of religiosity. Professor Akbar Ahmed, Ibn Khaldun Chair of Islamic Studies at the American University in Washington DC, observed in an interview on ABC news that “it is surprising that pornography was found because he (bin Laden) was known to be a rather austere man, a rather religious man, a man who…gave up the world.”
Even if he turned his back on the world, pornography followed bin Laden---at least into his compound. ABC news correspondent Martha Raddatz reported that although we can’t know for certain that bin Laden actually viewed the pornography, it was found right there in his bedroom, and according to Reuters news, it was a fairly extensive amount of pornography at that.
It is the suspicion of hypocrisy that attracts our attention. Bin Laden was unequivocal in his denunciation of what he believed was the US exploitation of women. In a 2002 letter to the American people, he railed, ''Your nation exploits women like consumer products or advertising tools, calling upon customers to purchase them,'' he wrote. ''You plaster your naked daughters across billboards in order to sell a product without any shame. You have brainwashed your daughters into believing they are liberated by wearing revealing clothes, yet in reality all they have liberated is your sexual desire.''
That’s a fairly accurate description of a pornographic industry that is worldwide today, an industry that may have seduced an otherwise religious and austere Osama bin Laden.
That’s why pornography is usually a private affair: secrecy conceals shame and shuns embarrassment. But hidden habits lend themselves to hypocrisy. And we flinch at hypocrisy, especially when we sense it in a person who wears a religious image.
It’s difficult to keep something as potentially powerful as pornography under the bed forever. Like a drug, pornography can be addictive. Scientists surmise that dopamine and oxytocin are released in the male brain during intimacy. According to behavior therapist, Andrea Kuszewski, it’s a “biochemical love potion.” But, these same neurotransmitters fire when watching porn. “You’re bonding with it,” says Kuszewski, “and those chemicals make you want to keep coming back to have that feeling.” Men, in effect, can develop a neurological attachment to porn.
Of course, the negative downside of that sensual high is that pornography replaces real relationships. In her article, “The Porn Myth,” feminist Naomi Wolf argues that the internet has “pornographized,”our culture. The effect is that instead of amplifying men’s sexual activity with their actual partners, it renders men less sexually responsive to real women. That’s because erotic images replace real people.
The result: some men prefer porn over real life partners. The recently released movie, No Strings Attached, has Alvin (Kevin Kline) complaining to his roommate, Adam (Ashton Kutcher), “I can’t focus on my porn with all this real sex going on.”
With porn on the brain, meaningful intimacy is a challenge. As a 43 year old composer put it an interview with New York Magazine: “I’ve got to resort to playing scenes in my head that I’ve seen while viewing porn. Something is lost there. I’m no longer with my wife; I’m inside my own head.”
No doubt, porn messes with the mind. But it’s a matter of the heart as well, as Proverbs 4:23 would remind us: “Above all else guard your heart for it determines the direction of your life.” And Jesus of Nazareth took dead aim at those who pretend that as long as it’s a secret, it’s not really a sin: “Anyone who even looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Matthew 5:28).
Maybe bin Laden would have agreed with Jesus, since his own holy book, the Qur’an states, “Tell the believing men to lower their gaze and protect their private parts. That is purer for them. Verily, Allah is all-aware of what they do...” (24.30-31)
But apparently it was difficult for bin Laden to unplug the drug of pornography, especially since it was in the privacy of his bedroom, where certainly no one would ever intrude without an invitation.
David B. Whitlock, Ph.D. is Pastor of Lebanon Baptist Church in Lebanon, Ky. He is also an adjunct instructor in the School of Theology at Campbellsville University in Campbellsville, Ky. You can email David at drdavid@davidbwhitlock.com or visit his website www.davidbwhitlock.com
Monday, May 16, 2011
Saluting those incredible canine heroes
I could have sworn my dog, Max, quietly napping on my left side, perked up when Diane Sawyer introduced the story about the Navy SEAL dogs on the evening news. Max’s brother, Baylor, with eyes half closed, was perched like a cat on the arm of the couch. But when Diane mentioned those heroic dogs, he snapped to attention, instantly turning his head in the direction of the television.
At least I thought he did.
My miniature Schnauzers are about as close to being Navy SEAL dogs as I am to being a Navy SEAL. But we three enjoyed the story anyway.
Those Navy SEAL dogs are really something. When the 79 valiant Navy SEALS made their surprise visit to the Bin Laden residence, they were accompanied by one of their highly trained canine comrades. These dogs are capable of sniffing out explosives, finding enemies and when necessary, chasing them down. They are highly outfitted too. The dogs wear protective body armor, and some are trained to communicate with their handler up to 1,000 yards away by means a speaker attached to a vest. The vests are equipped with infrared and night vision cameras that allow the handlers to see what the dog sees. The canine commandos are capable of parachuting, rappelling, and swimming. And they can pack more than a punch with a bite that has a force of between 400 and 700 pounds.
Navy SEAL dogs are not the only doggie heroes. Dogs can be trained not only to detect bombs but to sniff out cancer as well. According to Japanese research published online by the British Medical Journal, studies have confirmed that a cancer scent exists and may be circulating in the body. Dogs are capable of nosing out cancer in stool and breath samples.
According to a report on ABC news, Dr. Sheryl Gabram-Mendola, a breast surgical oncologist at Winship Cancer Institute of Emory University, maintains that cancer causes the body to release certain organic compounds that dogs can smell but people cannot. She and her team of researchers developed a test that allows dogs to smell the breath for evidence of cancer in the body.
"Dogs smell different things and they understand different things," says Charlene Bayer, a principal research scientist at Georgia Tech Research Institute. “They may not know what’s wrong, but they know there’s something that’s not normal, that you don’t smell the way you normally do,” she told ABC news.
As Diane Sawyer closed the evening news report on the Navy SEAL dogs, I was feeling better and better about my own furry companions’ distant relationship with those doggie heroes. Neither one of my Schnauzers can ferret out terrorists or corner criminals. The only thing Baylor is trained to do is roll over on his back so I can dry his wet paws, and Max, faithful dog that he is, doesn’t even do that, although when I command him to quit digging in the dirt, he obeys almost 50% of the time. But, perhaps like their cancer detecting counterparts who can sense when something’s wrong with us physically, they do curl up to any family member who isn’t feeling well, and they will bark furiously when a stranger, or a bird for that matter, enters our property. And what would my morning be without the dogs begging me for a hug?
As I clicked the channel to another station, both dogs simultaneously raised their noses as if to sniff something. Were they about to detect an explosive in the room? Were they going to smell a terrorist hiding in the house?
Nope. Instead of sniffing, they yawned, closed their eyes, and silently slipped back to sleep.
Email David B.Whitlock, Ph.D. at drdavid@davidbwhitlock.com or visit his website at davidbwhitlock.com.
At least I thought he did.
My miniature Schnauzers are about as close to being Navy SEAL dogs as I am to being a Navy SEAL. But we three enjoyed the story anyway.
Those Navy SEAL dogs are really something. When the 79 valiant Navy SEALS made their surprise visit to the Bin Laden residence, they were accompanied by one of their highly trained canine comrades. These dogs are capable of sniffing out explosives, finding enemies and when necessary, chasing them down. They are highly outfitted too. The dogs wear protective body armor, and some are trained to communicate with their handler up to 1,000 yards away by means a speaker attached to a vest. The vests are equipped with infrared and night vision cameras that allow the handlers to see what the dog sees. The canine commandos are capable of parachuting, rappelling, and swimming. And they can pack more than a punch with a bite that has a force of between 400 and 700 pounds.
Navy SEAL dogs are not the only doggie heroes. Dogs can be trained not only to detect bombs but to sniff out cancer as well. According to Japanese research published online by the British Medical Journal, studies have confirmed that a cancer scent exists and may be circulating in the body. Dogs are capable of nosing out cancer in stool and breath samples.
According to a report on ABC news, Dr. Sheryl Gabram-Mendola, a breast surgical oncologist at Winship Cancer Institute of Emory University, maintains that cancer causes the body to release certain organic compounds that dogs can smell but people cannot. She and her team of researchers developed a test that allows dogs to smell the breath for evidence of cancer in the body.
"Dogs smell different things and they understand different things," says Charlene Bayer, a principal research scientist at Georgia Tech Research Institute. “They may not know what’s wrong, but they know there’s something that’s not normal, that you don’t smell the way you normally do,” she told ABC news.
As Diane Sawyer closed the evening news report on the Navy SEAL dogs, I was feeling better and better about my own furry companions’ distant relationship with those doggie heroes. Neither one of my Schnauzers can ferret out terrorists or corner criminals. The only thing Baylor is trained to do is roll over on his back so I can dry his wet paws, and Max, faithful dog that he is, doesn’t even do that, although when I command him to quit digging in the dirt, he obeys almost 50% of the time. But, perhaps like their cancer detecting counterparts who can sense when something’s wrong with us physically, they do curl up to any family member who isn’t feeling well, and they will bark furiously when a stranger, or a bird for that matter, enters our property. And what would my morning be without the dogs begging me for a hug?
As I clicked the channel to another station, both dogs simultaneously raised their noses as if to sniff something. Were they about to detect an explosive in the room? Were they going to smell a terrorist hiding in the house?
Nope. Instead of sniffing, they yawned, closed their eyes, and silently slipped back to sleep.
Email David B.Whitlock, Ph.D. at drdavid@davidbwhitlock.com or visit his website at davidbwhitlock.com.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Weather Watchers Watching Over You
I used to wonder why my wife Lori and her family are such avid weather watchers. Whenever we are in a storm warning in Kentucky, my mother-in-law in Oklahoma usually knows about it before I do. Not long ago she called me on my cell phone: “Are you okay?”
I had no clue why she asked. I quickly glanced around my office for vandals, felt my pulse and answered, “I guess so. Why?”
She didn’t call me a doofus, but neither could she hide her surprise at my ignorance, “Don’t you know you are in a tornado warning?!” She was in the process of checking on my wife and kids. (No, I didn’t ask her if I was the last one she dialed.)
Thank God for people who care enough to warn others.
That particular day, I was the only one left in the building. I could have been in real trouble had a tornado actually hit.
My wife, Lori, is like her mother. When a storm awakened us at 2:30 a.m., last week, I only wanted to put the pillow over my head and continue snoring, but Lori turned on the television, watched for the storm path, and proceeded to call any of our children living in the vicinity of the storm.
“Why is she like that?” I asked myself as I rubbed my eyes and gave up on sleeping.
Later the answer came to me when she asked me a question. “Where would we go in case of a tornado?” As I thought of an adequate response (I didn’t have one), I remembered what it was like growing up in southwestern Oklahoma during tornado season. When the sirens went off, warning us of a tornado, we would hustle across the street to the Parkers’ house. They had a storm shelter. The men would then gather at the top of the shelter’s stairs and watch while the women and children would huddle below.
And our source of information in Altus, Ok. was radio station KWHW. Lori’s dad, George Wilburn, was part-owner of the station, and he was the guy we listened to. George was by the necessity of his job, a storm chaser.
He had a few close calls with storms and naturally encountered people in dangerous situations. One time he was reporting on the path of a tornado when he saw a pregnant lady lying in a ditch. She lived in a trailer house and was trying to escape the oncoming tornado. George rushed her to the local hospital. “I thought she might name the child after me, but she didn’t,” he teased.
Chasing storms as a hobby began in the 1950s. One of the pioneers in that field was a man named Roger Jensen. As far back as he could remember, Roger was fascinated with storms. Roger lived near Fargo, North Dakota. The rumbling of distant thunder, the crack of lightning announcing the approaching storm, the swirl of wind in his ears---all this Roger loved, and he became virtually addicted to the thrill of the storm. Roger said he was “born loving storms.”
Some people, like Roger Jensen, are “born loving storms.” But storm chasing can be dangerous. The 1996 film Twister and the television series, Storm Chasers, both depict the risks involved in chasing storms. At one point in Twister, Dusty (played by Philip Seymour Hoffman) spots a tornado and yells to his fellow storm chaser, Bill (actor Bill Paxton), “It’s coming! It’s headed right for us!”
And Bill screams back, “It’s already here!”
Storms are like that. All at once, they are “here.”
My father-in-law was not a storm chaser by choice. But he warned others. And when he could, he would rescue people in trouble. That quality was transferred to his family.
What I interpreted as a storm obsession was really a concern for people who could be in distress.
So, when that destructive tornado descended on Tuscaloosa, Alabama and unleashed its fury, I didn’t hesitate. I picked up the phone, disregarding the time, and dialed the number of my close friends, Butch and Cindy Larkin in Livingston, Alabama, not far from Tuscaloosa.
“Are you okay?” I hesitatingly inquired.
“We’re fine, David. We’re fine,” Cindy told me.
Then I waited while she paused.
“Thanks for caring,” she said.
Email David B. Whitlock, Ph.D., at drdavid@davidbwhitlock.com or visit his website, davidbwhitlock.com
I had no clue why she asked. I quickly glanced around my office for vandals, felt my pulse and answered, “I guess so. Why?”
She didn’t call me a doofus, but neither could she hide her surprise at my ignorance, “Don’t you know you are in a tornado warning?!” She was in the process of checking on my wife and kids. (No, I didn’t ask her if I was the last one she dialed.)
Thank God for people who care enough to warn others.
That particular day, I was the only one left in the building. I could have been in real trouble had a tornado actually hit.
My wife, Lori, is like her mother. When a storm awakened us at 2:30 a.m., last week, I only wanted to put the pillow over my head and continue snoring, but Lori turned on the television, watched for the storm path, and proceeded to call any of our children living in the vicinity of the storm.
“Why is she like that?” I asked myself as I rubbed my eyes and gave up on sleeping.
Later the answer came to me when she asked me a question. “Where would we go in case of a tornado?” As I thought of an adequate response (I didn’t have one), I remembered what it was like growing up in southwestern Oklahoma during tornado season. When the sirens went off, warning us of a tornado, we would hustle across the street to the Parkers’ house. They had a storm shelter. The men would then gather at the top of the shelter’s stairs and watch while the women and children would huddle below.
And our source of information in Altus, Ok. was radio station KWHW. Lori’s dad, George Wilburn, was part-owner of the station, and he was the guy we listened to. George was by the necessity of his job, a storm chaser.
He had a few close calls with storms and naturally encountered people in dangerous situations. One time he was reporting on the path of a tornado when he saw a pregnant lady lying in a ditch. She lived in a trailer house and was trying to escape the oncoming tornado. George rushed her to the local hospital. “I thought she might name the child after me, but she didn’t,” he teased.
Chasing storms as a hobby began in the 1950s. One of the pioneers in that field was a man named Roger Jensen. As far back as he could remember, Roger was fascinated with storms. Roger lived near Fargo, North Dakota. The rumbling of distant thunder, the crack of lightning announcing the approaching storm, the swirl of wind in his ears---all this Roger loved, and he became virtually addicted to the thrill of the storm. Roger said he was “born loving storms.”
Some people, like Roger Jensen, are “born loving storms.” But storm chasing can be dangerous. The 1996 film Twister and the television series, Storm Chasers, both depict the risks involved in chasing storms. At one point in Twister, Dusty (played by Philip Seymour Hoffman) spots a tornado and yells to his fellow storm chaser, Bill (actor Bill Paxton), “It’s coming! It’s headed right for us!”
And Bill screams back, “It’s already here!”
Storms are like that. All at once, they are “here.”
My father-in-law was not a storm chaser by choice. But he warned others. And when he could, he would rescue people in trouble. That quality was transferred to his family.
What I interpreted as a storm obsession was really a concern for people who could be in distress.
So, when that destructive tornado descended on Tuscaloosa, Alabama and unleashed its fury, I didn’t hesitate. I picked up the phone, disregarding the time, and dialed the number of my close friends, Butch and Cindy Larkin in Livingston, Alabama, not far from Tuscaloosa.
“Are you okay?” I hesitatingly inquired.
“We’re fine, David. We’re fine,” Cindy told me.
Then I waited while she paused.
“Thanks for caring,” she said.
Email David B. Whitlock, Ph.D., at drdavid@davidbwhitlock.com or visit his website, davidbwhitlock.com
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
