Farming is, and has been for centuries, one of the most perilous ways to earn a living. The farmer is subject to the vagaries of weather (and climate), to tangles of weeds, to infestations of insects and larger pests. It's financially precarious, as well. Not long ago, the 25th annual Farm Aid concert was held to drum up money for family farms, a sign that the rate of foreclosure on small farms is as high as ever. Beyond outright loss of the land, farmers must contend with market prices always in flux from events half a world away. Finally, should they survive the natural impediments and fiscal obstacles, farming itself is one of the most dangerous jobs in the nation. It may not be quite so telegenic as fishing the Bering Sea, but farmers die on the job at a rate more than twice that of policemen, over four times that of firefighters.
With so many obstacles, and so many of them outside the control of the farmer, perhaps it's not surprising that some farmers tend to be intensely religious. In several nations "back to the farm" movements have been directly tied to scriptural inspiration, and those clinging desperately to heritage farms may feel compelled as much by religious edict as desire to stick with what is by any measure a very difficult job. For farmers struggling through a long winter, the ancient verses of Ezekiel or Isiah may seem as good a way to determine the events of the upcoming season as the pages of the almanac.
Farmer William Miller spent years in quiet study on his farm in upstate New York before he produced the theories that created a movement in the first half of the 1800s. In South Africa today, farmer turned religious leader Angus Buchan is pulling in thousands with his "Mighty Men" campaign -- a movement that builds not just off the frustration of farmers, but (dangerously) off the anger generated by how the position of white men has changed in that nation over the last few decades.
Nebraska rancher Clyde Lott was not out to inspire the kind of violence that Buchan generates. He just wanted to bring on the end of the world.
Like William Miller, Lott had scoured the Old Testament looking for answers, and like Miller he found what he was looking for in rituals related to the building of the Temple. In Miller's case, he dated the end of the world from the foundation of the "Second Temple" -- the one that was built when Jewish exiles returned from their captivity in Babylon around 516 BC (the "First Temple," the temple the scriptures say was constructed by Solomon, had been destroyed seven decades earlier when the Babylonians sacked Jerusalem). But Clyde was more concerned with the "Third Temple," a temple that doesn't exist. Yet.
Beginning in the 40th chapter, the Book of Ezekiel records a vision in which the author of that book is taken to see a temple and commanded to write down what he is shown. This vision is highly detailed and full of measurements.
I saw a wall completely surrounding the temple area. The length of the measuring rod in the man's hand was six long cubits, each of which was a cubit and a handbreadth. He measured the wall; it was one measuring rod thick and one rod high. Then he went to the gate facing east. He climbed its steps and measured the threshold of the gate; it was one rod deep. The alcoves for the guards were one rod long and one rod wide, and the projecting walls between the alcoves were five cubits thick. And the threshold of the gate next to the portico facing the temple was one rod deep. -- Ezekiel 40: 5-6
This kind of detail continues through the entire chapter, describing the gates, porticos, rooms for preparing sacrifices, and housing for the priests. Following chapters describe both the courtyards around the temple, the elements of the most sacred areas, and minutia of decoration. At the time the book was written the Jews were still in exile and the second temple had not yet been constructed. When the second temple was built, it seems that Ezekiel's vision was ignored, and that the new temple was built to an entirely different plan.
Both Jewish and Christian scholars have noted this discrepancy. Some have looked at these later chapters of Ezekiel for some kind of message coded into the long list of numbers or for instructions on how to decipher hidden meanings stored elsewhere in scripture. Others have taken the account to be a description of a heavenly temple -- after all, this is a vision. But in both conservative Judaism and in evangelical Christian tradition as it developed in the 19th and 20th centuries, a new view of this passage gained general acceptance. Rather than describing any ethereal temple, or giving disregarded plans for the second temple, Ezekiel was recounting his visit to a third temple, a temple that would be built in Jerusalem at some time in the future.
Among conservative Jews, the building of this third temple is associated with the appearance of the messiah. Throughout the late Middle Ages, Jerusalem was all but abandoned, but Jews living elsewhere wrote of their desire to see both the city and temple restored. Conservative prayer books include prayers for the restoration of the temple. Some factions have advocated for the construction of this temple want to move Jewish practice back toward the temple faith that existed before Rome destroyed the Jerusalem temple in 70 AD, leaving behind the textural-focus that rabbinical Judaism has taken on over the last two millennia. The struggle over the right to build on the Temple Mount has been a source of violence and division since Israel captured the area in 1967.
For many evangelical Christians, the third temple has a different meaning. Though early Christians (including Paul) seemed to discard the notion that a physical temple was needed to complete God's instructions, others see the rebuilding as a critical act to completing the necessary steps before the return of Jesus and the end of the world.
Clyde Lott was of the later view. Taking the idea that the rebuilding of the temple was one of the first and most visible to-do items before the second coming could begin, Lott went through the Bible searching for what was needed to accomplish this step. He quickly ran upon an issue.
Tell the Israelites to bring you a red heifer without defect or blemish and that has never been under a yoke. Give it to Eleazar the priest; it is to be taken outside the camp and slaughtered in his presence. Then Eleazar the priest is to take some of its blood on his finger and sprinkle it seven times toward the front of the Tent of Meeting. While he watches, the heifer is to be burned—its hide, flesh, blood and offal. -- Numbers 19
The ashes of this red heifer were to be gathered up and stored. They could then be used in a seven-day ritual to purify anyone who had become ceremonially unclean (the ritual also includes taking a bath and washing your clothes, which probably accomplished a lot more actual cleansing than being sprinkled with water containing ashes of an incinerated cow).
This red calf became associated with Jesus in the oral tradition of the early Christian church and the 4th century Epistle of Barnabas makes this connection in print. The red calf also gained an association with the end times, both because of the connection to the messiah and because of verses in Daniel that stated that in the "last days" many would be purified (which would require the purifying red heifer ashes). The red heifer even make a guest appearance in the Quran.
And remember Moses said to his people: "Allah commands that you sacrifice a heifer. ... A fawn-colored heifer, pure and rich in tone, admired by everyone that sees it. ... A heifer not trained to till the soil or water the fields; sound and without blemish." -- Surah 2, 67-71
Lott realized that without the red heifer, it wasn't possible to give people the ceremonial cleansing they'd need to properly build the third temple. When he checked, it appeared that no red heifers were available in Israel. No heifer, no ritual cleansing. No ritual cleansing, no third temple. No third temple, no end of the world.
Some people, having identified an impediment to the end of all things, might have felt relief. Lott's reaction was a bit different. He set out immediately to make contact with conservative rabbis and to form an organization that would make red cows available. He started writing letters in 1990, and within a year he had developed a partnership with an orthodox rabbi. A year after that, they were raising funds to send red cattle to Israel.
In Israel, the rabbis were not exactly ignorant of the need for a red calf in making people ceremonially clean. In fact, the idea that everyone was by definition ceremonially unclean was one device that had been used to stall those seeking to charge up Temple Mount and begin construction of a new temple. Lott's insistence that he could generate cattle of the required pure red color caught the attention of many in Israel. A cow born on Lott's farm in 1997 became a feature story in the Jerusalem Post, leading some to speculate that the temple building might begin as early as 1999 with the first (or second) appearance of the messiah to come shortly thereafter.
But the biggest question posed by this story might be "why." Not why did Lott believe in the sequence of events that would lead to the end times. The views he expressed had become the commonly held interpretation among a large faction of evangelicals. Instead, the question is why was Lott so eager to bring on the end of the world? His take on the end times was very similar to that put forward by Tim LaHaye and others of the "Left Behind" strain, complete with tribulation and torturous death for millions, even billions. Who would want to be a part of that?
At first glance, Clyde Lott's eagerness to throw the switch leading to death, destruction, and the end of history (for real this time) might seem both selfish and cruel. But reading through interviews with Lott reveals something else, something that goes to the heart of the whole end times phenomenon.
Unlike LaHaye and a few others who seem eager to watch those sinners roast, Lott doesn't seem to be motivated out of any sort of vengeance. He just wants to have a hand in. To play a part. Rancher (now Reverend) Lott may not be the richest man in the world. He may not have a Nobel Prize on the mantle or a vaccine up his sleeve. But, with humble study and diligent work, he could play a role in the greatest events that ever have or ever will unfold.
Despite the way they are often described by evangelical leaders, the most often cited versions of the Christian Second Coming are not "literal" interpretations of a straightforward text. They are stitched together narratives created by taking a verse here, a chapter there, and applying not at all obvious connections between characters and locations. Even the most generally accepted portions of the story may have very little basis in scripture (for example, the Anti-Christ, a character who is entirely absent from the Revelation settings he is usually given, and who doesn't exist at all in scripture as the singular character now generally posited.) In fact, a literal interpretation of the work is not feasible, since much of what makes up the broken narrative is set in dreams, visions, or "secret knowledge" passed along in cryptic statements. Sections of the story come from scripture that was intended to be historical rather than prophetic, but which has been recast by people more interested in stealing a peek ahead than looking at details of the past. As a result, the structure of the end times narrative changes with the political and social climate. It has varied greatly over the centuries, and will likely change again, with new verses being appended to the amalgam and older themes deemphasized
A strong belief in these narratives, or even seeking to play a role in their events, comes of simply wanting to feel as if we are at the center of things. Astronomy has removed us from the physical center of the universe. Geology has distanced us from the origins of the world. Biology tells us we are only one of millions of species that have come and gone on a world that is just one speck among many.
But if we are in the end times, if we are singled out for the critical moment of divine involvement, then we really are at the center of the biggest events imaginable. In fantasy novels, it's always the poor, overlooked child who turns out to be heir to kingdom. In end times thinking, just because your life may appear to be normal doesn't mean you don't have a role in the turn of history.
In the simplest terms, there is nothing in the Bible to suggest that these times are any more or less perfect for the "end of days" than previous years or centuries. There are no more "wars or rumors of wars" now than in the past. No more natural disasters (despite how having worldwide TV networks makes it seem). Events in the Middle East are no more aligned with biblical prophesy now than they were when Millerites called for the end in 1844, or when millennialists sweated out the year 1000.
The biggest effect that end times philosophy has on our nation is that too much attention focused in this area increases our tendency toward short-term thinking. In that sense only, there really is a threat.
Update [2010-10-31 10:1:58 by Mark Sumner]: One little quote that I should have slipped in there...
"We live in hard times, not end times." -- Jon Stewart