Predicting the End of the World is Nothing New

by Bill Lazarus

The cornerstone of any messianic movement contains a belief that the world will be brought to an end.  The messiah will herald that event.  The concept of a final Armageddon is so overwhelming that it needs a divine being, a messiah, to bring it about.  Eventually, he was expected to bring about a Kingdom of God.  As the kingdom took on more fantastic aspects, so did the individual who would rule it.  Designated by God, in time, he became divine in his own right.

The concepts began as separate theories, but were merged around the time of Jesus.  The Essenes, waiting for God to act, relied on the story of the Flood to explain what would happen when Yahweh tired of human iniquity.  Only those who followed God’s law, as explained in the holy texts, would survive.  Christian dogma then linked this horrific scene to Jesus.  Those that believed in him would be saved; those who did not would suffer eternal punishment.

Initially, such a claim would not have garnered much enthusiasm.  However, the destruction of the Temple in 70 CE, an event absolutely cataclysmic in the Jewish world and seemingly predicted by Jesus, seemed to presage the end of the world.  The event galvanized Christian missionaries who hurried through the Empire, trying to “save” as many people as possible before the end arrived.

The end-of-the-world concept has been part of Western civilization ever since.

Prophets of doom did not have to search for the end of the world idea; it had long been a popular motif in the culture of many cultures, including Jewish, even though it runs contrary to biblical teachings.  In the story of Noah (Gen. 6-9), God destroys the earth's inhabitants with a massive flood.  When the waters abate, God offers a rainbow as proof that such an event would never happen again: "Neither will I smite any more every living thing as I have done." (Gen. 9:12-16)

Nevertheless, Jews joined with other peoples to accept the idea of an ending to the world.  Persians, for example, predicted a battle between the "sons of light" and the "sons of darkness," a theme that foreshadows Christianity. (Shaw, pg. 4)  The Hindu view of cyclical creations may have been merged with the Persian concept to generate the basic doomsday theme in Judaism and, later, Christianity.

Floods provided the main method of destruction: In Greece, Zeus creates the high tide in which only the Titan Prometheus and his son, Deucalion, survived; in Burmese, Indian and other legends, there's always one survivor who sails to safety in some kind of vessel.

In the Gilgamesh, the oldest known epic containing this kind of apocalyptic disaster, a great hero of that name seeks out Utnapishtim, the survivor of the great flood that destroyed humanity.  In an account written more than 4,000 years ago, Gilgamesh hopes to learn the secret of immortality; he gets that along with a detailed account of a massive flood.  Utnapishtim tells of being forewarned, building a great boat and sailing for days until reaching safety while explaining how he achieved immortality.  That story is believed by some historians to be the model for the Noah account because of similarities in the description of the boat, use of birds to discover dry land and related aspects.  Jews would have heard the tale, which was well known throughout the Middle East and especially in Babylon, site of the Jewish exile after 586 B.C.

Emannuel Velikovsky, the late Russian physicist turned historian, once suggested in his controversial book, Worlds in Collision, that all the flood accounts were connected to a single event about 3,500 years ago when a comet created watery chaos. 

No evidence of such a world-wide flood has ever been found, although residue from a large flood in the Tigris-Euphrates valley uncovered by archaeologists this century is thought to be the source of the proto-Noah accounts.  Archaeological evidence, however, has demonstrated that settlements above and below the flood are identical.  Moreover, evidence of various floods are separated by centuries, indicating there was no one flood of immense portions as described in the Bible.

Fortunately for those who support the concept of total destruction, water has never been the only medium for disaster. The Romans and Greeks believed in a succession of ages, each containing men made of gold, silver, bronze or flesh.  In early Greek thinking, the end of the world was a topic for philosophical discussion, not religious debate.  Stoicism taught that the end would come with fire and would be reborn in a series of cycles.  Famed Greek philosophers Plato and Aristotle thought a series of natural events would initiate a destruction-rebirth cycle.  Plato said that there were three ages; the third and present one was perfect and eternal.  Both men were idolized in the Middle Ages, so it's not surprising Joachim of Fiore, a celebrated monk asked by the Pope to create an apocalyptic calendar, picked up on that cyclical theme.  In the late 1100s, he labeled each age thought to have elapsed since Jesus with a different religious theme.  He felt the final age, Armageddon, would occur in the mid-1200s.

The Romans, who absorbed a welter of ideas from various cultures, also accepted the concept of a recycled world, with destruction and then the periodic return of the same people and the same world.  The poet Virgil, for example, predicted a second voyage of Jason and the Argonauts, a second Trojan War and a second Achilles.  Other Romans also imagined a return to the golden age when Saturn supposedly ruled.

For Jews, the Noah story failed to provide a system of revenge against those who oppressed them.  Jewish prophets still envisioned a time when they would again be a holy people following God's laws and when sinners would be eliminated.  The prophet Joel noted that on that day, the unrighteous and the gentiles would be annihilated: "... let all the inhabitants of the Land tremble: for the day of the Lord cometh, for it is nigh at hand." (Joel: 2:1)

Ezekiel, whose writings date from the time of Babylonian Exile, said that after the world was destroyed, a prince of the House of David would humble the gentiles and redeem Israel. (Ez:. 34:23)

The author of Daniel, writing hundreds of years later, decided that God delayed inaugurating his kingdom because the Jewish sins had not abated yet.  The writer then reinterpreted the prophetic writings: the 70 years promised by Jeremiah for the return to the holy state of Israel after the Babylonian conquest really meant 70 weeks of years (Dan 9:2, 24).  That works out to 490 years — or about 100 years after the lifetime of the author dating from the setting of the book in the Babylonian conquest.

The book also introduced a theory of resurrection (12:2) — possibly also mentioned by Isaiah in a late apocalyptic addition to an earlier book (26:19) — and the only mention of the word "messiah" in the Old Testament.  Angels, too, make an appearance, possibly borrowed from the Persians.

Resurrection was important psychologically because of the circumstances.  Antiochus IV, the Syrian leader, attempted to wipe out Judaism with a series of persecutions, including the deaths of prominent, pious Jews.  Mothers who permitted circumcision were hanged with their babies dangling from their necks.  Those who refused to renounce Judaism were butchered, exiled or sold into slavery. 

Angels seemed an ideal way for God to manifest himself. After all, in the book of Exodus, an angel of death had passed over the houses of the children of Israel during the 10th plague.  Daniel supplies names for the important angels (e.g. Michael,12:1), replacing the anonymous "messengers" who in Genesis walked slowly up and down Jacob's ladder (Gen. 28:12) or visited Abraham. (Gen: 18:2)  Michael has been understood as "the one like a son of man" (Dan 7), taking the place of Baal in the Canaanite myth of a supernatural being who overcomes the beasts of the sea.

Daniel did far more than simply suggest a new date; the author supplied a name to the being who would inaugurate it — the messiah.  For the first time ever, Jews had someone to focus on, an image of a person who would quickly be incarnated.

The widespread circulation of Daniel led to a belief that the end was near.  "The whole area, from Lake of Genasseret (Sea of Galilee) down to the Dead Sea itself was alive with holy eccentrics," said historian Paul Johnson.

To augment scripture, Jewish writers also developed separate predictions.  Forged Sibylline oracles — the Sibyl supposedly foresaw the history of Rome and was consulted by Roman authorities in times of trouble — claimed that a great man would rise from the East as the world disintegrated.

Romans were aware of the predictions.  Roman historian Seutonius wrote, "There had been spread all over the Orient an old and established belief, that it was fated at that for men coming from Judea to rule the world."  The Jewish historian Josephus, writing for Roman readers, said a man from Judea would soon "become monarch of the whole world." When Augustus became Pontifex Maximus, he ordered many of the fake oracles destroyed.  Tiberius, his successor, also purified the Sybilline collection because of a popular prediction that "the end of the empire was at hand."

Those predictions, and related prophecies, were widespread.  Tacitus (55-c.117) wrote a history of Rome that included a section on the Jewish-Roman war of 66 to 70 A.D.  He said, "The majority (of Jews) were convinced that the ancient scriptures of their priests alluded to the present as the very time when the Orient would triumph and from Judea would go forth men destined to rule the world."  Tacitus was not impressed, saying that Vespasian and his son Titus were the actually prophesied individuals, "but the common people, true to the selfish ambitions of mankind, thought this exalted destiny was reserved for them, and not even their calamities opened their eyes to the truth." (The Histories: book 5, pg. 13.)

Jews believed the predictions, because a host of writers assured them the ancient prophets were right.  For example, the Psalms of Solomon, cited in Chapter 1, foresaw the coming Kingdom of God.

Ezra IV, written late in the first century A.D., asked the basic question: "If the world has been created for us, why don't we possess it as an inheritance now?"  Many other works duplicated this query and emphasized the growing sense of Jewish frustration at the long-delayed “Last Times.”

The idea was not monolithic: some writers built the End of Time around a concept of a Davidic leader who would restore the old kingdom; others preferred a "new and perfect world" that would arise after the destruction of the "present, evil world," the Anchor Bible Dictionary reported (Vol. 11, pg. 597)

The belief in the coming Kingdom of God was also widespread throughout the Roman Empire, carried by Jews and their supporters.  An estimated 10 percent of the population was Jewish or God-fearers — individuals who, as noted earlier, liked everything about Judaism, supported synagogues and holidays, but declined to be circumcised.  Other people followed Jewish rules without accepting Judaism.  Caught up in the religious enthusiasm of the era, Jewish missionaries were busy proselytizing.  Their efforts paid off.  Even emperors knew Jewish concepts.  For example, Augustus wrote his adopted son and eventual successor, "There is no Jew, my dear Tiberius, who keeps his fast on the Sabbath as I kept it today." (Seutonius, Augustus, pg. 76)

Other factors were also at work, building the momentum for a messiah to herald the end of days.

When Jesus started preaching, amid the cry of other prophets that the final days were upon the inhabitants, the people of his era, unlike any before this, were ready to greet a messiah.

Jews may not have accepted Jesus as the messiah, but the concept of earthly destruction never faded from Jewish thinking.  In Jewish legend, the antichrist was named Armilus and was to be countered by the messiah.  Ideas about Armageddon varied as did the years when it would occur.  In early Jewish thinking, 1096 was one of the years when the end might come, based on a numerological interpretation of Leviticus 25:24, "Ye shall grant a redemption for the land."

That year passed; eyes -- and hopes -- turned to alternatives.  Various interpreters suggested the line in Job 38:7, "when the morning stars sang together," pointed to 1492.  That year, however, Jews were expelled from Spain.  Reportedly, about one-third left in exile; one-third converted; and one-third, the ones derisively labeled marranos ("pigs"), hid their Jewish status under a Catholic cover.  Several sailed with Columbus.  Jewish settlements in the United States eventually result from the Spanish expulsion, but no messiah appeared to chastise Christians who caused it.

Also in 1492, Duke Abravanel, the leader of the Spanish Jewish community, predicted the coming of the messiah and the resulting punishment of gentiles.  He picked the early 1500s as his target date.  Abravanel had been a minister in King Ferdinand's court and claimed descent through the exilarchs of Babylon to the House of David.  Author of commentaries on the biblical books of Joshua, Judges and Chronicles, he did his own calculations to arrive at the magical date.  He hoped publishing his research would encourage disheartened Spanish Jews.  It may have.  It also helped foster the strong belief in a messiah that aided the spread of Sevi's movement.

The Last Days hope lingered on despite repeated failures. The dejected, mistreated Jews, longing for evidence that they had returned to God's good graces, never gave up the idea that one day God would redeem his people.  In one instance, Polish scholar Nathan Shapira in the early 1600s described the final scene this way: on the day the messiah comes, "the dead in Palestine will arise and the walls of fire will depart Jerusalem."

Quoting Psalm 90:15, medieval rabbis argued that the messianic era should be of equal length as the period of suffering and exile.

As earlier forecasts of a coming Armageddon faded after the 1492 expulsion from Spain, key years for the predicted end of the world grew sharper into focus: 1575, 1648 and 1666.

Under the circumstances, the old idea of two separate messiahs revived: the messiah of the House of Joseph would die battling the infidels at the gates of Jerusalem, while the messiah of the House of David would initiate the expected utopia.

Jewish speculation were based on numerological and spiritualistic interpretations of the Bible.  The Kabala, a collection of mystical ideas that existed in a Jewish undercurrent beginning in the Middle Ages, served as a guide. 

The Zohar, one of two core Kabala books, pointed to the 1300s as the time when the messiah would come.  When the century passed with the hope unfulfilled, the idea hung on until the 1500s when the basic kabalistic system, reformulated by Jewish scholar Isaac Luria in the mid-1550s, assumed that the final stage had arrived and that salvation was very close, as noted earlier in this book.  To achieve speed, the current generation had to be righteous: that matched a Talmudic saying that the son of David would appear only in a generation which was "wholly sinful or wholly righteous."

Luria aimed for the Day of the Lord in the year 1575.  His disciples claimed their master was the messiah from the House of Joseph.  Luria's unexpected death in 1572 indicated to them that the world was not "worthy" yet. They settled down to wait for the necessary purity to be achieved.

At the same time, the antichrist — who in Jewish and Christian speculation would precede the messiah — was reported on his way.  "In the year 1599, a rumor circulated with prodigious rapidity through Europe that the antichrist had been born in Babylon, and that already the Jews of that part were hurrying to receive and recognize him as their messiah,” an historian noted.

A year later, people were talking about an antichrist supposedly born near Paris to a Jewess named Blanchefleure ("white flower") and conceived by Satan.  The child was baptized.  A "witch" who was tortured to learn the truth, confessed that she had rocked the infant antichrist on her knee and that he had "claws on his feet, wore no shoes, and spoke all languages."

When the world continued unaffected by such claims, conversation about the antichrist naturally grew muted.

In 1623, the tales started again.  This time, brothers of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem, residing on Malta, claimed that their spies in Babylon had seen the infant antichrist born there on May 1.  The birth was marked by an eclipse of the sun, swarms of flying serpents and a shower of precious stones.

While all this was happening, economic and social conditions were causing increasing concern.  Jews had been prosperous in some communities, but the major had descended into abject poverty, particularly in Poland, where a large percentage of the Jewish population lived.  The kabalistic teachings, newly revived, took on added meaning among Jews, increasingly tense while struggling amidst a hostile Christian society. 

Luria's philosophical ruminations, which were predicated on a coming messiah, were first printed in 1636, some 64 years after his death.  By 1650, all of the kabalistic ideas had spread through the diaspora.  Several renowned scholars were thought of as the messiah of the House of Joseph — Samson ben Oesha of Ostropol, Poland, for one.

That selection process eventually focused specifically on one year — 1648 because the end of days is called “this,” whose numerical value is 408. The number 408 in Hebrew corresponds to 1648.  In addition, the numerical value of the Hebrew words for "the messianic woes" equals 408.  As a result, that specific year became the focus of the "most enthusiastic hopes for redemption."

Religious leaders did not hesitate to broadcast the good news.  The Bible was scoured to support that belief.  Rabbi Yehiel Michel of Nemirov (Poland), for example, said the massacres planned by Haman (in the canonical book of Esther) had been postponed to the year 1648.

Not only did Jews focus their messianic hopes on the middle of the 1600s, so did Christians.  Paul believed firmly that Jesus presaged the coming end of the world.  His epistles are filled with such claims of an immediate end.

Pauline thinking dominated early Christianity.  The Revelation of St. John, attempted to explain why there had been a delay in the Parousia and to offer a view of the Kingdom due to arrive shortly.  The text has served as a guide to the coming Kingdom of God since its writing somewhere late in the first century A.D. Several times on the verge of being left out of the New Testament, it finally won the support of bishops when the canon was codified in the fourth century A.D.  In the book, the Parousia became a final battle between the risen Christ and his heavenly hosts against Satan, who would be leading both earthly and supernatural foes.

The continued delay of the Parousia naturally heightened speculation.  Since Revelation mentioned a 1,000-year reign (20:5), chiliasts (from the Greek for "one-thousand") thought the end of the first millennium would initiate the end.

The only other year to attract widespread support was 1666.

In part of the lengthy, often confusing text, John says the mark of this demonic antichrist is 666.  "Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is six hundred threescore and six." (Rev. 13:18)

As mentioned earlier, the numbers actually refer to deposed Emperor Nero, whose name numerologically works out to 666.  While Nero had committed suicide in 68 A.D., he was rumored to be alive and to return, a non-messianic belief that survived well into the Middle Ages.  However, later readers, left in the dark about that explanation, decided it referred to the year 666 or 1666. 

The chiliastic movement, condemned by the Church in 431 A.D., continued to survive despite the official denunciations.  By the 1500s, a sect of Christians who decried baptism, called Anabaptists, seized control of Munster, Germany and declared the arrival of a new kingdom of Zion.  The residents endured a three-year siege by Papal forces before the town was captured.  The debacle, and the accompanying failure of a messiah to appear, led to a dampening of the chiliastic spirit until the 1600s.

In that century, it enjoyed a rebirth of interest beginning in England.  Quakerism, for example, owns its beginning to chiliastic thought In 1656, a peasant named James Nyler rode into Bristol, welcomed by the same cries that Luke described as greeting Jesus upon his entry into Jerusalem. 

The failure of the world to end in 1666 hardly deterred believers.  The claims of an apocalyptic event have continued into modern times. 

I’ll include a second posting later with information on more-recent claims.

Bill Lazarus is a religious historian whose books on the subject include Dummies Guide to Comparative Religion.  His books are available on line via Amazon.com, Kindle and via his website www.williamplazarus.com.  This information is excerpted from his book The Messiah.

Tebow and God

CNN recently posed a question on its daily poll: Is Tim Tebow’s success attributable to God?  That requires a long explanation and a far better answer than the two available options of yes or no.  

For those who do not know, Tebow is the quarterback of the Denver Broncos of the National Football League.  He is in his second year there after an unprecedented career at the University of Florida where he won two national championships and the Heisman Trophy as the country’s best collegiate football player.

A big, powerful man, however, he is not rated as a good professional quarterback.  He winds up to throw the ball, wasting precious seconds, and has shown limited accuracy.  His footwork is poor as well.  As a result, he didn’t play his first year.  However, this year, after the starting quarterback, Jay Cutler, faltered, fans pushed the coach to use Tebow.  He responded with six victories in his first seven games.

Many of the wins were seemingly miraculous, coming late in the game or overtime.  Things just worked out perfectly for Tebow: opponents lost their starting quarterbacks before playing the Broncos; opposing players slipped or made mistakes.  For example, in a game against the Chicago Bears, the opposing running back inexplicably failed to stay inbounds and keep the game clock running, giving Tebow the necessary extra seconds to mount a final, successful drive.

Tebow is a very religious man and credits God with his success.  That’s what prompted the CNN question.  The last time I looked, 71 percent of responders said No that God was not involved in Tebow’s success; the rest said Yes, God was helping Tebow win.

His pastor naturally went with the affirmative.  Pastor Wayne Hanson told reporters: "It's not luck. Luck isn't winning six games in a row. It's favor. God's favor.”  Another minister, Pastor Andre Butler, senior pastor of Word of Faith International Christian Center, in Southfield, Michigan, went online to agree, insisting that “God IS in the business of causing those that truly live their lives for him to have success in WHATEVER they put their hand to.” (The capitals are in the original.)

That’s ridiculous.

First, Tebow is hardly the first football player (or sports figure) to have late-game heroics.  George Blanda, for example, was a 43-year old quarterback for the Oakland Raiders in 1970 when he won five straight games in seemingly miraculous fashion: throwing touchdown passes or kicking last-second field goals.  No one suggested God was on his side.  Or when Albert Pujols, then starring for the St. Louis Cardinals baseball team, won back-to-back games with homeruns in the team’s last at-bat in 2011.

The list could be endless, but no one credited God, because those athletes were not as religious as Tebow.  They certainly didn’t kneel in prayer during games as Tebow does.  They may thank God for any success – Pujols always points to the sky – but they don’t believe God did the work.

Second, Tebow didn’t win all his games.  In one, the Detroit Lions smothered the Broncos 45-10.   Tebow was tackled seven times in the backfield and twice turned the ball over to the Lions.  Was God on vacation?  Did He decide that, this one afternoon, Tebow would have to succeed by himself?

Third, there are religious players on teams that the Bronco defeated.  Did God reject them for Tebow?  What did they do wrong to lose God’s blessing?

Fourth, God must be new at this game.  While Tebow had a great college career -- arguably the best by any college football player – he was not a complete success.  He won a Heisman Trophy, but was favored two other times.  Another player, Archie Griffin, won the coveted award twice without God’s apparent help.  Moreover, Tebow was a backup player when Florida won its 2006 national championship, but in his first year as a starter, the team lost four games and finished ranked 13^th.

After winning the national championship in 2008, Tebow decided to return to school for his senior year rather than enter the NFL draft.  In his last collegiate season, the Gators were crushed by eventual national champion Alabama and ended up ranked fifth nationally.

While that’s an excellent record, it’s hardly perfect and shows no divine intervention.

Fifth, God may be a football fan, but that’s just a game – and it’s not the biggest game in the world.  Soccer is.  Tebow is virtually unknown outside of this country.  While Americans like to think we have God’s blessing, every other country feels the same way.  

Sixth, what happens when Tebow starts losing?  He may have led his team into the playoffs, but only after dropping the last two games of the season with pathetic performances.  Does that mean God deserted him?

Finally, contrary to the pastors, there’s not a shred of evidence that God supports those who believe in Him or does not.  True believers do not have fewer problems or have happier lives.  No research has ever come to that conclusion.  Events happen at random, hitting the faithful and the atheist without deference.

That’s that same for Tim Tebow.

God may or may not be taking an interest in the Bronco’s quarterback, but winning a few games hardly constitutes proof of anything.

Bill Lazarus regularly writes about religion and religious history.  He also speaks at various religious organizations throughout Florida.  You can reach him at www.williamplazarus.com.  His books are available on Amazon.com, Kindle, bookstores and via various publishers. 

A Revelation

Long ago, in the very beginning, the entire universe was compressed into a small ball that could fit into a person’s palm, but no one existed to hold it.  It was heavy and dark, alone in the vastness of emptiness, in the silence of loneliness.

Then, it exploded in a fiery burst that still echoes in the far corners of the universe.  Its great eruption of life and death began the process that brought us to this day, this time.

In that explosive moment, time began.  It was not measurable, as we measure it now.  It was endless, but there was beginning.  So shall there be an end.

The bits of matter once compressed into a ball flew out in arcs.  There was nothing to stop it, except other pieces generated by that massive explosion.  The force spewed rocks across the expanse of space.  It forced tiny atoms to merge, creating gases.  It launched other particles that still rove the galaxies in search of a resting space.

Where did the ball come from?  God created it.  Where did God come from?  Man created Him in his own image.

Man came late to this explosive universe.  First came the Sun to send life-giving forces to the cooling rocks and swirls of gasses.  The Moon was plucked from its eternal journey, possibly wrenched from Earth, and made to circle this planet as a silent witness to the miracle of life.

Who did life come from?  God created it. Where did God come from?  Man created Him in his own image.

Life began slowly.  Water derived from the gasses gathered in oceans upon the earth.  In time, for all things need time, life started in the depth of water where darkness reigned.  It began only because the Sun was far enough away to heat the water a little and yet not so close as to sear the fledgling cells as they emerged.  

The creatures that arose were small and could not think.  And, yet, they lived and died in increasing abundance.  Several merged together to create larger beings. Soon, in timelessness that is still time, many creatures of all sizes filled the waters.

They were creative in their forms.  Some grew roots, some had fins, and they changed to meet the dangers of their days, finding ways to reproduce rapidly.  Their bodies decayed slowly on the ocean floor. Plants flourished.  Their breaths changed the atmosphere of the surrounding world.

The most creative beings poked their heads from the water and saw dry land.  They tested it slowly, hesitantly.  They left the water briefly, but some grew roots and stayed.  They found nourishment in the virgin soil.  They grew tall and high.  They arched toward the sky. The Sun greeted them; the Moon flew by and surveyed them.

Where did the animals and plants come from?  God created them. Where did God come from?  Man created Him in his own image.

As in the water, land creatures were creative.  They developed into huge sizes, although smaller than those in the water.  They explored the waters; some even returned to its safe embrace.  They journeyed through the air.  They burrowed below the ground, scampered through rising trees, trotted across its un-muddied surface.  They ate as they could find food.  Some needed meat; others could eat plants. All lived together without asking questions of themselves, their planet or their God.  They communicated through noises and cries, and each found a niche in which survival was possible.

Time had not vanished.  Time became change, so that sometimes plants disappeared, or animals lost their special place and could not endure, or floods, famines or cooling temperatures meant some could survive; some could not.  The most creative altered their lifestyles to meet the new demands of time.

Who decided which creatures lived or died?  God did.  Who decided if God lived or died?  Man did.

In the midst of this ever changing life, man arrived. He was born in what is now Africa.  The first human was not a human, but a kind of animal that was born creative.  It was different from its parents in ways that made it stronger and smarter.  It survived; so did its children.  It inherited skills such as grooming; climbing and thinking from its simian ancestors.  It also developed its hands better for grasping weapons.  It traded claws and talons, eagle eyes and an ability to scent the faintest odor for the skill to communicate and to think.  It had no special talents that differentiated it from other creatures.  It was not faster, bigger, stronger or more combative than its neighbors, but it was more creative.  So it survived.  

The creature that became man began to acknowledge time.  It recognized a beginning and an end.  It buried its dead with artifacts from life.  It painted walls with memories and hopes.  It created an explanation for life, a view of the world beyond death.

It created a God to oversee life and death.

Who created man?  God created man.  Who created God?  Man created Him in his own image.

In the fullness of time, modern man and woman came into being. They bore within them the smallest creature, the first creation.  And they carried within them the next creation, the one that would follow them; the one that would be more creative.

They looked up at the unknown and asked questions.  Their small portion of  earth flooded and they wanted to know why.  The sky was blue, and they wanted to know why.  Children died, and they wanted to know why. All that was good and bad surrounded them in a sea of confusion, and they wanted to know why.  The skies thundered in loud voices that spoke of unseen residents in the rolling clouds.  They gave the noises names.  They saw the miracles of birth, the wonder of death, the marvels of growth and decay.  They assigned deities to each aspect of life and identified a ruler of pantheon.

In them, they were able to find all answers.

Their answer was a pantheon of Gods.

The Gods were good to those who believed.  They came down to earth to wander among their subjects.  They answered prayers, they sustained life, they healed and they made the barren be the mothers of children.  They were seen; they saw.  They fathered their own children on the women of the earth.  They placed the stars in the heaven, named the days of the week.  They rewarded believers and lifted the lowly to the thrones of the world.

There were many Gods by many names.  They were borne, like clothes, on the backs of wanderers.  Those men who lived along the Nile willingly lent their Gods to visitors.  Those men who lived in the Middle East carried their Gods with them to foreign lands.  Names changed as languages bubbled up, so that a God from Egypt might become a God in Greece without anyone realizing the same God thrived in two places.  

In time, men grew tired of their homes and longed for the riches imagined in far off places by those who wandered.  They formed armies and appeared one day at the homes of the neighbors.  Land became a parade ground, and, soon, men were fighting and dying for dirt, as though it were really theirs.  All they possessed in the end was enough to cover their dead bodies, and even then, the land was just loaned until the lowly creatures could finish turning man into more dirt.

One people ruled the land, then another, then many others, until the land was divided into bristling, unclear borders.  A king would call on Gods to support him in a fight with another king, who also called upon the same Gods disguised by different names.

The people of each kingdom identified themselves in the search for distinction:  Egypt, Babylon, Minoa, Lebanon, Hittite, Edom, Elam, Assyria, Persia, Greece and Rome.  Some of these lands faded as time scrubbed at their memories.  Some survived the washing under different names.  Some people lost their lands completely, but retained a sense of unity through their religion or their culture.

Many wrote great books of their accomplishments.  Most were lost as time continued to smooth the features of human life.  Some were carved into stone or written on leather parchment, papyrus or vellum and survived.  A few were collected in an Assyrian library that was destroyed.  But, stone does not burn.  Some were stored in the searing heat of Egypt and endured centuries.  Others were sealed in jars, portrayed in vivid color on temple walls or on tombs of once mighty kings otherwise forgotten.

The scribes and sculptures wrote about their Gods and their wondrous deeds.  They talked of the miracles that accompanied their arrivals and departures.  Some of these Gods died and were reborn. Some shared limbs with animals.  All were very human.

And the people were happy because they saw that all the Gods were good.  

Who created the great empires, the books to record their deeds, the talents of artists who memorialized their activities in monuments and statues?  God did. Who created God?  Man did.     

In the western portion of the world, the empires finally coalesced into once called Rome.  Ruled by a single individual in a single city, it was big enough to touch many countries and powerful enough to hold them enthralled by its greatness.

People brought together in Rome’s embrace began to see how many of the Gods were the same, but with different names.  They began to worship them under combined names.  There were fewer Gods in the Pantheon that governed the world, but each was just as strong and important.  Some now spoke of morality and piety, such as Dionysus. Some demanded strong allegiance and secrecy.  When all their followers finally died, the secret of their cults died, too.  Death came to Gods and man alike.  

Some saw the sadness of the world and envisioned a path to serenity.  They said less was more, and that the reward would be the nothingness of peace eternal.   Others foresaw a heaven where true believers could rejoice because they were right, while nonbelievers would gnash their teeth in the darkness outside.

All were right.  All were wrong.  No one knew what happened after death, so they answered the question before it was asked.  There were great trials to be faced, said the Egyptians.  There was nothing but a massive field with gray shades of the dead, said the Greeks.  There was nothing at all, said the Jews. There was new life, said the Hindus and the Buddhists. There were angels and plenty, said the Persians.

Who ruled life after death? God did. Who created God? Man did.

There were gods of afterlife like Hades and Osiris. Living Men could enter and leave. Perseus did. Hercules did. Persephone stayed part of her year.

The answers made people feel good. They now know everything.

Some people did not agree with the many answers. They started with many Gods, but finally settled on One. They said He was given them as his portion, and He would be their guide forever. Jews, the remnants of the ancient country of Judea, held onto this one God despite His failures to rescue them. They lost their king and their country, but not their God. Instead, they combined many of the stories of their neighbors into a single book, and changed the stories to meet their God’s and their own needs. Weak and insignificant as a people, they envisioned their God as all powerful. Someday this god, Yahweh, would lift them above the haughty men who defeated and oppressed them. They thought of the magnificent leader who would accomplish that great feat on behalf of their God, and they knew they would be rewarded for their steadfast faith. They would conquer all.

Who would send the great leader? God would. Who sent God? Man did.

The great leader did not come. Instead, some people decided they could wait no longer. They concluded God would not send a mighty warrior to defeat the Romans. Instead, he would send a poor, unrecognized man would lead his followers to victory through piety on the only battlefield the Romans could not contest. This leader would be meaningless on Earth and great in heaven.

They accepted the glorious heaven imagined by some, and put their new leader in a throne room there. They created a pantheon of humans to serve him and decreed that all mankind would be judged for failing to recognize their great leader. Those who believed would be allowed to enjoy the good life of this envisioned heaven; those who declined would be tormented until they repented their obstinacy.

They built a hell with endless arrays of torturous instruments for nonbelievers. Death was not enough for those who denied their special vision.

They did not hesitate to borrow ideas from other beliefs. Their views spread rapidly with such vigor until almost everyone accepted this amalgamated religion. Heaven was built, hell erected; believers became saints; nonbelievers were transformed into sinners. As before, the writers described great deeds when God walked on earth. They spoke of miracles and wonders, signs and portents.

Nothing had changed, but names. In the fullness of time, names always change, but not reality.

Who created the names? God did. Who created God? Man did.

What did man want of his god? Justice for those who believed but were downtrodden; reward for those who believed but were not acknowledged; peace so that believers may enjoy their rewards; love so that believers may be acknowledged for their steadfast behavior; eternity so that believers could bask in their reward for recognizing the truth while those who scorned them could suffer for an equal amount of time.

Yet, in the beginnings, the real truths were evident. They are not justice, because time knows how to smooth away defects, not dispense virtue. They are not reward, because time eclipses all prizes and enlightens even Ozymandias. Nor are they peace, because time knows not peace or war. All are the same moments on an eternal clock. Nor are they eternity, because the greatest among us becomes nothing as time soldiers on.

If there are great truths, they are these:

Be creative. Life was born in creativity. It continues only through the creative efforts of a few. Creativity made small creatures poke their heads from warm waters and wonder about the lure of dry land. It makes an artist envision a different reality, a dreamer gaze upon the stars and see a future.

Be patient. Time moves on at a steady pace. It cares not for pleas nor prayers, gifts nor incense. There is no fate, no destiny, but for each life there is opportunity for creativity. It is that opportunity, however brief, to be more that makes life the wonder of the mind and not just a mere moment in history.

Be accepting. Of the ideas of mankind, there are some that may be right; others may be wrong. Time awards wisdom to many and accords glimpses of a larger reality to only a few. Those who determine right or wrong and so live their lives shunt aside their opportunity for creativity. Do not judge. Knowledge and understanding open creative doors. Certainty is a doorstop and a rock to pain blind feet.

Be studious. Time provides opportunity for creativity. Knowledge is owned by none and available to all. The more knowledge is accumulated, the more creativity abounds.  

Be forgiving. Time erases. Time forgets. Time has no interest in non-creative ventures nor misdirected thoughts. Instead, it moves on creative paths which spread in all directions. Some lead to new doors; other to walls. Without trying, no one would know which path to follow.

Be helpful. Creativity may come in the smallest child or the oldest adult. It may creep into a nursery or a hospital bed. It may be a part of the inner being of the meanest creature. Those who help keep the creative spark alive and give it a chance to flare. Do not smother; do not preach. Simply encourage creativity.

Be giving. Time provides more opportunities to some and few to others. There is no equality. Time knows nothing of fair play. Those that have more need to aid those with less, so that creativity may flourish even in the worst of circumstances.

Creativity conceived of the reality of time and measured it. It recognized the amazement of distance between here and anywhere. It understood the depths of despair and the heights of love. Creativity wrote the great philosophies that underpin our lives. It envisioned the future towards which we trudge.

Who gave mankind creativity? God did. Who created God? Creativity did

Atheist Billboards Can’t Overcome Mythology

In yet another effort to convince the American public that God does not exist, American Atheists are putting up billboards again this year during the holiday season.

Good luck with that.

 

The billboards are arresting.  They contain images of Santa, Jesus, Poseidon and the devil next to such messages as: "37 Million Americans know MYTHS when they see them."  That’s stronger than last year’s version which included: "You Know It's A Myth. This Season, Celebrate Reason."

You’ll have to live in Ohio, New Jersey and Florida to see the new signs, but they are bound to generate some controversy all over the country.  American Atheists Communications Director Blair Scott expects that: "When you question someone's long-held beliefs and doctrine they are going to be immediately offended and be on the defensive: it's a known psychological phenomenon," he told an online publication.

The signs may spur anger, but they just won’t have any effect on belief. 

As a friend who read several of my religious history books – which explain the clearly less-than-divine origins of our beliefs and sacred artifacts -- noted, “We need our myths.”

He’s right.  We do: atheists, agnostics and believers alike.  Myths provide a framework for our lives.  They give us a reason to live, a sense of purpose to counter the wrenching realization that there is no reason for life except life itself.

That’s why myths gather around significant people.  Our heroes provide a glimpse of something better, something beyond mundane existence.

Reality never vanishes, even in the most religious mind. Mother Teresa, the Albanian nun who spent her life helping India’s poorest residents of Calcutta, made that clear.  In her writings, she expressed her doubts about God and her Catholic faith, but continued to sacrifice for others.

She was hardly alone. Catholic priests who have attended my Stetson University religious history class have admitted they did not believe in Jesus in any role, but continued in their positions in order to provide service to their parishioners.  I have had rabbis tell me the same thing.

They all realize that religion is a myth, but that myth serves as such a powerful motivating force – hopefully, for the good.  Unfortunately, religion-based wars tell us the direction isn’t always pleasant, but nothing else can produce the self-sacrificing saints like Mother Teresa who dot human history.

Besides, no one really knows whether there’s a god or not.  Religion is based on mythology.  Our images of God are equally flawed, but that doesn’t completely discount the existence of a being (or beings) that affect our lives.

Maybe we cannot communicate with that higher power, assuming it exists.  Maybe that higher power can’t communicate with us.  Maybe the higher power only cares about afterlife.  Who knows?  

 

Atheists suffer from the same flaw as true believers: both believe they are completely right and leave no room for alternative ideas.  Unfortunately, we don’t have enough information.  Everyone can’t be right, but they all can be wrong.

As a result, as polls continue to show, more than 90 percent of Americans believe in God.  That’s not likely to change anytime soon.

After all, mythology is mightier than the sign.  It’s mightier than most anything, including logic.

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Bill Lazarus regularly writes about religion and religious history.  He also speaks at various religious organizations throughout Florida.  You can reach him at www.williamplazarus.com.  His books are available on Amazon.com, Kindle, bookstores and via various publishers.