Week 4 of Lent: Revelationaphobia
As in most years, my current Lenten sacrifices are additive and subtractive. For example, I have added additional Masses and removed popcorn and a few other tasty treats. This is nothing like in my younger days when I gave up solid food, but it is still a sacrifice. One thing I was not aware of in my more penitential Lents was the relief given by Sundays and Solemnities, the “little Easters,” which at my advanced age makes any mortification less mortifying.
There are, however, some sacrifices which are not significantly impacted by the sabbath reprieve. For instance, this year I have promised to rid myself of an aversion to the book of Revelation.
The past few years, I have read one chapter a day from scripture as part of daily devotionals. One day I will read from the Old Testament, and the next from the New, and so on. Currently, I find myself still plodding along with the Israelites on the first go-round through the Tanakh*, having journeyed through the new covenant several times. And each time I glean the Gospels and finally exit through the Epistles, I see John the Revelator standing in front of the finish line, and I brace myself for the visionary roller coaster ride he has prepared.
Not that we don’t have our share of prophetic pandemonium in the OT. Nevertheless, those more elderly visions for me seem part of an ancient covenant from which I have been given a kind of “get out of jail free” card by the fulfillment of Jesus. I see them as past tense, a nightmare of extinct civilizations, while Revelation looms large in my future under its alias The Apocalypse. I do admit that I am conveniently overlooking John’s borrowing from his predecessors: Ezekiel, Zechariah, Daniel, etc.
This deep-seated dread of the last biblical book I probably gathered from fragments of flights through Christian Fundamentalism, atheism, nihilism, socialism, and the other various and sundry belief systems I donned and cast off in my search for that which I did not know. The consequence, this present-day angst, is the basis for a splendidly uncomfortable Lenitential sacrifice.
In preparation, I Googled my way to a book, which would dig deeply into the apocalyptic depths of John’s visions and hopefully lead me to recovery from my Revelationaphobia. As with most of my more creative and excruciating mortifications, I haven’t found relief, but only more dread. Needless to say, I am over-cautiously crawling through the book I chose, Coming Soon, Unlocking the Book of Revelation and Applying Its Lessons Today by Michael Barber. The work is quite readable, but the reader is not quite workable. The consequence of this reluctance to read about the scripture I’m reluctant to read is that I will fail in my sacrificial goal.
After all, who is keeping score here? Is the point of Lent to point to how many points we scored by pouring out a plethora of prayers, eating the least, and charitying the most magnanimously? Are the Easter festivities about handing out the medals, or about celebrating a deeper intimacy with Jesus because we dared to undistract, deprogram, and reorient ourselves spiritually through a little self-discipline?
Regardless of my reluctance/resistance, I will persevere. Though for this particular penance my Lent will be running a little long this year, I will have Professor Barber’s volume in one hand, and The Apocalypse in the other, reading, deliberately, without undue haste, swallowing my trepidation. And maybe I’ll be able to look the ol’ Revelator in the eye on the next scripture cycle, joining him in a more joyous journey to the end.
*The Jewish name Tanakh is kind of an acronym for the first five books of the bible (Torah), the prophets (Nevi’im), and the writings (Ketuvim), essentially what Christians call the Old Testament.
