by Tim LaHaye
“I believe the Bible teaches that the Rapture of the church ushers in a seven-year period of trial and tribulation, during which terrible things will happen. If you have not received Christ as your Savior, your soul is in jeopardy. And because of the cataclysmic events that will take place during this period, your very life is in danger. If you turn to Christ, you may still have to die as a martyr.”
Rayford paused the DVD. He had been prepared for the salvation stuff. But tribulation and trial? Losing his loved ones, facing the pride and self-centeredness that had kept him out of heaven—wasn’t that enough? There would be more?
And what of this “great deceiver” the pastor had talked about? Maybe he had taken this prophecy business too far. But this was no snake-oil salesman. This was a sincere, honest, trustworthy man—a man of God. If what the pastor said about the disappearances was true—and Rayford knew in his heart that it was—then the man deserved his attention, his respect.
It was time to move beyond being a critic, an analyst never satisfied with the evidence. The proof was before him: the empty chairs, the lonely bed, the hole in his heart. There was only one course of action. He punched the play button.
“It doesn’t make any difference, at this point, why you’re still on earth. You may have been too selfish or prideful or busy, or perhaps you simply didn’t take the time to examine the claims of Christ for yourself. The point now is, you have another chance. Don’t miss it.
“The disappearance of the saints and children, the chaos left behind, and the despairing of the heartbroken are evidence that what I’m saying is true. Pray that God will help you. Receive his salvation gift right now. And resist the lies and efforts of the Antichrist, who is sure to rise up soon. Remember, he will deceive many. Don’t be counted among them.
“Nearly eight hundred years before Jesus came to earth the first time, Isaiah in the Old Testament prophesied that the kingdoms of nations will be in great conflict and their faces shall be as flames. To me, this portends World War III, a thermonuclear war that will wipe out millions.
“Bible prophecy is history written in advance. I urge you to find books on this subject or find people who may have been experts in this area but who for some reason did not receive Christ before and were left behind. Study so you’ll know what is coming and you can be prepared.
“You’ll find that government and religion will change, war and inflation will erupt, there will be widespread death and destruction, martyrdom of saints, and even a devastating earthquake. Be prepared.
“God wants to forgive you your sins and assure you of heaven. Listen to Ezekiel 33:11: ‘I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live.’
“If you accept God’s message of salvation, his Holy Spirit will come in unto you and make you spiritually born anew. You don’t need to understand all this theologically. You can become a child of God by praying to him right now as I lead you—”
Rayford paused the DVD again and saw the concern on the pastor’s face, the compassion in his eyes. He knew friends and acquaintances would think him crazy, perhaps even his own daughter would. But this rang true with him. Rayford didn’t understand about the seven years of tribulation and this new leader, the liar who was supposed to emerge. But he knew he needed Christ in his life. He needed forgiveness of sin and the assurance that one day he would join his wife and son in heaven.
Rayford sat with his head in his hands, his heart pounding. There was no sound from upstairs where Chloe rested. He was alone with his thoughts, alone with God, and he felt God’s presence. Rayford slid to his knees on the carpet. He had never knelt in worship before, but he sensed the seriousness and the reverence of the moment. He pushed the play button and tossed the remote control aside. He set his hands palms down before him and rested his forehead on them, his face on the floor. The pastor said, “Pray after me,” and Rayford did. “Dear God, I admit that I’m a sinner. I am sorry for my sins. Please forgive me and save me. I ask this in the name of Jesus, who died for me. I trust in him right now. I believe that the sinless blood of Jesus is sufficient to pay the price for my salvation. Thank you for hearing me and receiving me. Thank you for saving my soul.”
As the pastor continued with words of assurance, quoting verses that promised that whoever called upon the name of the Lord would be saved and that God would not cast out anyone who sought him, Rayford stayed where he was. As the DVD finished, the pastor said, “If you were genuine, you are saved, born again, a child of God.” Rayford wanted to talk to God more. He wanted to be specific about his sin. He knew he was forgiven, but in a childlike way, he wanted God to know that he knew what kind of a person he had been.
He confessed his pride. Pride in his intelligence. Pride in his looks. Pride in his abilities. He confessed his lusts, how he had neglected his wife, how he had sought his own pleasure. How he had worshiped money and things. When he was through, he felt clean. The recording had scared him, all that talk about the tough times ahead, but he knew he would rather face them as a true believer than in the state he had been.
His first prayer following that was for Chloe. He would worry about her and pray for her constantly until he was sure she had joined him in this new life.
Buck arrived at JFK and immediately called Steve Plank. “Stay right where you are, Buck, you renegade. Do you know who wants to talk with you?”
“I couldn’t guess.”
“Nicolae Carpathia himself.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious. He’s here and he’s got your old friend Chaim Rosenzweig with him. Apparently Chaim sang your praises, and with all the media after him, he’s asking for you. So I’ll come get you, you’ll tell me what in the world you’ve gotten yourself into, we’ll get you undead, and you can have that great interview you’ve been looking for.”
Buck hung up and clapped. This is too good to be true, he thought. If there’s one guy who’s above these international terrorists and bullies and even the dirt at the London Exchange and Scotland Yard, it will be this Carpathia. If Rosenzweig likes him, he’s got to be all right.
Rayford couldn’t wait to go to New Hope the next morning. He began reading the New Testament, and he scrounged around the house for any books or study guides Irene had collected. Though much of it was still difficult to understand, he found himself so hungry and thirsty for the story of the life of Christ that he read through all four Gospels until it was late and he fell asleep.
All Rayford could think of throughout the reading was that he was now part of this family that included his wife and son. Though he was scared of what the pastor had predicted on the DVD about all the bad things that would happen in the world now that the church had been raptured, he was also excited about his new faith. He knew he would one day be with God and Christ, and he wanted that for Chloe more than ever.
Rayford kept himself from bugging her. He determined not to tell her what he had done unless she asked. She didn’t ask before he left for church in the morning, but she apologized for not going with him. “I will go with you sometime,” she said. “I promise. I’m not being antagonistic. I’m just not ready.”
Rayford fought the urge to warn her not to wait too long. He also wanted to plead with her to watch the DVD, but she knew he had watched it and she asked him nothing about it. He had rewound it and left it in the VCR, hoping and praying she would watch it while he was gone.
Rayford got to the church just before ten o’clock and was shocked to have to park nearly three blocks away. The place was packed. Few were carrying Bibles, and hardly anyone was dressed up. These were scared, desperate people who filled every pew, including in the balcony. Rayford wound up standing in the back with nowhere to sit.
Right at ten o’clock, Bruce began, but he asked Loretta to stand by the door and make sure any latecomers were welcomed. Despite the crowd, he did not use the platform spotlights, nor did he stand in the pulpit. He had placed a single microphone stand in front o
f the first pew, and he simply talked to the people.
Bruce introduced himself and said, “I’m not in the pulpit because that is a place for people who are trained and called to it. I am in a place of leadership and teaching today by default. Normally we at this church would be thrilled to see a crowd like this,” he said. “But I’m not about to tell you how great it is to see you here. I know you’re here seeking to know what happened to your children and loved ones, and I believe I have the answer. Obviously, I didn’t have it before, or I too would be gone. We’ll not be singing or making any announcements, except to tell you we have a Bible study scheduled for Wednesday night at seven. We will not be taking any offering, though we will have to start doing that next week to meet our expenses. The church has some money in the bank, but we do have a mortgage and I have living expenses.”
Bruce then told the same story he had told Rayford and Chloe the day before, and his voice was the only sound in the place. Many wept. He showed the DVD, and more than a hundred people prayed along with the pastor at the end. Bruce urged them to begin coming to New Hope.
He added, “I know many of you may still be skeptical. You may believe what happened was of God, but you still don’t like it and you resent him for it. If you would like to come back and vent and ask questions this evening, I will be here. But I choose not to offer that opportunity this morning because so many here are brand-new in their faith and I don’t want to confuse the issue. Rest assured we will be open to any honest question.
“I do want to open the floor to anyone who received Christ this morning and would like to confess it before us. The Bible tells us to do that, to make known our decision and our stand. Feel free to come to the microphone.”
Rayford was the first to move, but as he came down the aisle he sensed many falling in behind him. Dozens waited to tell their stories, to say where they’d been on their spiritual journey. Most were just like he was, having been on the edges of the truth through a loved one or friend, but never fully accepting the truth about Christ.
Their stories were moving and hardly anyone left, even when the clock swept past noon and forty or fifty more still stood in line. All seemed to need to tell of the ones who had left them. At two o’clock, when everyone was hungry and tired, Bruce said, “I’m going to have to bring this to a close. One thing I wasn’t going to do today was anything traditionally churchy, including singing. But I feel we need to praise the Lord for what has happened here today. Let me teach you a simple chorus of adoration.”
Bruce sang a brief song from Scripture, honoring God the Father, Jesus his Son, and the Holy Spirit. When the people joined in, quietly and reverently and heartfelt, Rayford was too choked up to sing. One by one people stopped singing and mouthed the words or hummed, they were so overcome. Rayford believed it was the most moving moment of his life. How he longed to share it with Irene and Raymie and Chloe.
People seemed reluctant to leave, even after Bruce closed in prayer. Many stayed to get acquainted, and it became obvious a new congregation had begun. The name of the church was more appropriate than ever. New Hope. Bruce shook hands with people as they left, and no one ducked him or hurried past. When Rayford shook his hand, Bruce asked, “Are you busy this afternoon? Would you be able to join me for a bite?”
“I’d want to call my daughter first, but sure.”
Rayford let Chloe know where he’d be. She didn’t ask about the church meeting, except to say, “It went long, huh? Lot of people there?” And he simply told her yes on both counts. He was committed to not saying more unless she asked. He hoped and prayed her curiosity would get the best of her, and if he then could do justice to what had happened that day, maybe she would wish she’d been in on it. At the very least, she would have to recognize how it had affected him.
At a small restaurant in nearby Arlington Heights, Bruce looked exhausted but happy. He told Rayford he felt such a mix of emotions he hardly knew what to make of them. “My grief over the loss of my family is still so raw I can hardly function. I still feel shame over my phoniness. And yet since I repented of my sins and truly received Christ, in just a few days he has blessed me beyond anything I could have imagined. My house is lonely and cold and carries painful memories. And yet look what happened today. I’ve been given this new flock to shepherd, a reason for living.”
Rayford merely nodded. He sensed Bruce simply needed someone to talk to.
“Ray,” Bruce said, “churches are usually built by seminary-trained pastors and elders who have been Christians most of their lives. We don’t have that luxury. I don’t know what kind of leadership model we’re going to have. It doesn’t make sense to have elders when the interim pastor, which is all I can call myself, is himself a brand-new Christian and so is everybody else. But we’re going to need a core of people who care about each other and are committed to the body. Loretta and a few of the people I met with the night of the Rapture are already part of that team, along with a couple of older men who were in the church for years but somehow missed the point as well.
“I know this is very new to you, but I feel as if I should ask you to join our little core group. We will be at the church for the Sunday morning meeting, the occasional Sunday evening meeting, the Wednesday night Bible study, and we will meet at my home one other evening every week. That’s where we will pray for each other, keep each other accountable, and study a little deeper to stay ahead of the new congregation. Are you willing?”
Rayford sat back. “Wow,” he said. “I don’t know. I’m so new at this.”
“We all are.”
“Yeah, but you were raised in it, Bruce. You know this stuff.”
“I only missed the most important point.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what appeals to me about it. I’m hungry for knowledge of the Bible. And I need a friend.”
“So do I,” Bruce said. “That’s the risk. We could wind up grating on each other.”
“I’m willing to take the risk if you are,” Rayford said. “As long as I’m not expected to take any leadership role.”
“Deal,” Barnes said, thrusting out his hand. Rayford shook it. Neither smiled. Rayford had the feeling this was the beginning of a relationship born of tragedy and need. He just hoped it worked out. When Rayford finally arrived home, Chloe was eager to hear all about it. She was amazed at what her father told her and said she was embarrassed to say she had not watched the DVD yet. “But I will now, Dad, before we go to Atlanta. You’re really into this, aren’t you? It sounds like something I want to check out, even if I don’t do anything about it.”
Rayford had been home about twenty minutes and had changed into his pajamas and robe to relax for the rest of the evening when Chloe called out to him. “Dad, almost forgot. A Hattie Durham called for you several times. She sounded pretty agitated. Said she works with you.”
“Yeah,” Rayford said. “She wanted to be assigned to my next flight and I ducked her. She probably found out and wants to know why.”
“Why did you duck her?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you sometime.”
Rayford was reaching for the phone when it rang. It was Bruce. “I forgot to confirm,” he said. “If you’ve agreed to be part of the core team, the first responsibility is tonight’s meeting with the disenchanted and the skeptics.”
“You are going to be a tough taskmaster, aren’t you?”
“I’ll understand if you weren’t planning on it.”
“Bruce,” Rayford said, “except for heaven, there’s no place I’d rather be. I wouldn’t miss it. I might even be able to get Chloe to come to this one.”
“What one?” Chloe asked when he hung up.
“In a minute,” he said. “Let me call Hattie and calm the waters.”
Rayford was surprised that Hattie said nothing about their flight assignments. “I just got some disconcerting news,” she said. “You remember that writer from Global Weekly who was on our flight, the one who had his computer hooked up t
o the in-flight sat phone?”
“Vaguely.”
“His name was Cameron Williams, and I talked to him by phone a couple of times since the flight. I tried calling him from the airport in New York last night but couldn’t get through.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I just heard on the news that he was killed in England in a car bombing.”
“You’re kidding!”
“I’m not. Isn’t that too bizarre? Rayford, sometimes I don’t know how much of this I can take. I hardly knew this guy, but I was so shocked I just broke down when I heard. I’m sorry to bother you with it, but I thought you might remember him.”
“No, that’s all right, Hattie. And I know how overwhelming this is for you because it has been for me, too. I’ve got a lot to talk to you about, actually.”
“You do?”
“Could we get together sometime soon?”
“I’ve put in to work one of your flights,” she said. “Maybe if that works out.”
“Maybe,” he said. “And if it doesn’t, maybe you could come over for dinner with Chloe and me.”
“I’d like that, Rayford. I really would.”
CHAPTER 13
Buck Williams sat near an exit at JFK Airport reading his own obituary. “Magazine Writer Assumed Dead,” the headline read.
Cameron Williams, 30, the youngest senior writer on the staff of any weekly newsmagazine, is feared dead after a mysterious car bombing outside a London pub Saturday night that took the life of a Scotland Yard investigator.
Williams, a five-year employee of Global Weekly, had won a Pulitzer as a reporter for the Boston Globe before joining the magazine as a staff reporter at 25. He quickly rose to the position of senior writer and has since written more than three dozen cover stories, four times assigned the Weekly’s Newsmaker of the Year story.