Building the Future Now

Tag: faith

  • The Origins of Apocalyptic Thinking

    In the past few essays, I’ve primarily focused on secular concerns: artificial intelligence, climate change, pandemics, political polarization, and war. In the next three essays, however, we will turn to the religious and spiritual roots of apocalyptic thinking by exploring ancient Jewish apocalypticism, the historical Jesus, and the modern doctrine of the Rapture.

    Understanding these subjects is important because they continue to shape how millions of people think about the future. Ideas about the end times, divine judgment, the return of Christ, and the ultimate fate of humanity all emerged from this ancient worldview. Yet many modern assumptions about apocalypse differ dramatically from what ancient Jews and early Christians actually believed.

    We have already discussed how the word apocalypse does not originally mean world-ending destruction. In its original sense, the Greek word apokalypsis means an unveiling or revelation. In other words a disclosure of hidden truths. This older meaning is essential not only for understanding ancient Jewish apocalypticism, but also for understanding the ministry of Jesus, which emerged directly from this worldview.

    In this essay, I want to explore how ancient apocalyptic thought developed, what it meant to the people who embraced it, and what it might still have to teach us today. While ancient apocalyptic texts certainly contain visions of destruction and judgment, they are ultimately concerned with transformation. They ask how an upside-down world might be restored and what role human beings play within that process. That question remains just as relevant today.

    The World That Produced Apocalypticism

    To understand ancient Jewish apocalypticism, we first need a basic understanding of the historical world that produced it. Ancient Jewish history is often divided into two major periods: the First Temple Period and the Second Temple Period. The First Temple Period ended in 587 BCE when the Babylonians conquered Jerusalem, destroyed the Temple, and exiled much of the population. This exile became one of the defining moments in Jewish history. Removed from their homeland and surrounded by foreign cultures, Jewish communities were forced to reformulate their identity, traditions, and relationship with God.

    Roughly fifty years later, the Persian king Cyrus the Great conquered Babylon and allowed many Jewish exiles to return home and rebuild the Temple. This began the Second Temple Period, which lasted until the destruction of the Second Temple by the Romans in 70 CE.

    It was during this period that apocalyptic thinking emerged and flourished. Many scholars believe that some of its key features were influenced by contact with Persian religious ideas, particularly Zoroastrianism. Concepts such as cosmic conflict between good and evil, angels and demons, a final judgment, and the resurrection of the dead became increasingly important within Jewish thought.

    These ideas gained additional force during subsequent periods of foreign domination. After the Persians came the Greeks under Alexander the Great, followed by the Romans. As Jewish communities struggled with foreign rule, cultural pressures, and political instability, apocalyptic expectations intensified. Many people came to believe that they were living in the final age of history and that God would soon intervene to establish a new and just order.

    By the first century CE, this apocalyptic worldview had become widespread. It shaped popular expectations, inspired revolutionary movements, and formed the cultural backdrop of Jesus’s ministry. To understand Jesus, early Christianity, and later ideas about the end times, we must first understand this apocalyptic imagination.

    Core Ideas of Apocalypticism

    The Book of Revelation in the Christian New Testament, also known as the Apocalypse of John, is probably the best-known example of apocalyptic literature. As anyone who has ever tried to read it knows, it’s packed full of strange symbols and imagery, and the writing doesn’t quite follow the normal linear path we’re accustomed to with modern literature. While it certainly stands out from the rest of the New Testament, the Book of Revelation was just one of many similarly written texts from the period. 

    One of the defining features of apocalyptic literature is the revelation of heavenly secrets. These revelations typically occur through visions in which a celestial being, often an angel, guides the narrator through the heavens or unveils future events. Through these experiences, hidden truths about God, history, and the structure of reality are revealed.

    The Book of Enoch is one of the best-known examples of this type of literature. Highly influential during the time of Jesus, it illustrates many of the core features of Jewish apocalyptic thought. In Enoch’s visions, the archangel Uriel reveals numerous mysteries: the fall of rebellious angels, the reasons behind the flood, the movements of the heavenly bodies, and future events that will shape human history.

    Importantly, these texts were not focused solely on end-times destruction. While they often contain visions of judgment and catastrophe, these events are only one part of a much larger revelation. The central concern is understanding the hidden structure of reality, God’s purposes in history, and humanity’s place within that story. Reducing apocalyptic literature to just its destructive elements leaves a tremendous amount of meaning by the wayside.

    Another important feature of apocalyptic thought is dualism. By this, I mean the belief that opposing forces of good and evil are actively at work in the world. The forces of good are aligned with God, while the forces of evil are associated with Satan or other hostile spiritual powers. Human beings are caught within this larger cosmic struggle and must decide where their loyalties lie.

    This dualism also had a historical dimension. Ancient Jewish apocalypticists believed they were living in “this age,” a period dominated by injustice, suffering, and evil. Yet they also believed that God would soon intervene in history, overthrow those forces, and inaugurate “the age to come.” This future age would be a renewed creation in which harmony between God, humanity, and the world would be restored.

    This expectation often involved a dramatic social reversal. The powerful would be humbled, the oppressed vindicated, and justice finally established. The destructive aspects of apocalyptic thought emerge from this expectation, but destruction was never viewed as an end in itself. Rather, it was part of a larger process of renewal. If a new structure is to be built where an old one stands, the old structure must first be removed.

    Another central feature of Jewish apocalypticism was the general resurrection of the dead. Ancient Jews did not typically view human beings as immortal souls temporarily inhabiting physical bodies. Instead, a person was understood as a unified whole instead of a body and soul that could be separated from one another. For this reason, their hope was not for a disembodied existence in heaven, but for a future bodily resurrection on Earth.

    Equally important was the belief that this resurrection would be collective. Rather than individuals being judged immediately upon death, the dead would be raised together at the end of the age. At that time, God’s judgment would occur. The righteous would enter the renewed Kingdom of God on Earth, while the wicked would be removed from the new creation.

    This differs significantly from what many modern Christians believe today. In the popular understanding, individuals are judged immediately after death, with the righteous going to Heaven and the unrighteous to Hell. By contrast, the earliest Jewish and Christian apocalyptic expectations centered on the establishment of God’s kingdom on a renewed Earth.

    Conclusion

    So what does all of this mean for us today? One way to think about it is that there are now three very different understandings of what the word apocalypse means.

    For ancient Jews, apocalypse was not primarily about the destruction of the world. Destruction was certainly part of the story, but it was only one part of a larger process of transformation. God would intervene in history, evil would be defeated, the dead would be raised, and a renewed world–the Kingdom of God on Earth–would emerge. The focus was ultimately hopeful. The destruction cleared the way for something better.

    Many modern Christians still retain elements of this older framework, although it has become much more complex over the centuries. Depending on the denomination, there may be a Rapture, a period of tribulation, the return of Jesus, a thousand-year reign, a final battle between good and evil, and then a final judgment. Yet despite the differences, the basic structure remains similar: the present age ends, God intervenes, and a renewed creation emerges in which the faithful live in God’s presence.

    The modern secular understanding is quite different. Here, apocalypse usually means catastrophe without redemption. A nuclear war, climate collapse, zombie outbreak, rogue artificial intelligence, asteroid impact, or some other disaster devastates civilization. The focus is rarely on renewal or transformation. Instead, it is on survival in a world that has become much worse than before. This is the version of apocalypse that dominates modern movies, television shows, and novels.

    And this difference matters. When most people hear the word apocalypse today, they think of destruction. But for ancient Jewish apocalypticists, destruction was never the whole story. Apocalypse was fundamentally about revelation, about hidden truths being unveiled and history moving toward transformation. The catastrophe was only one chapter in a much larger narrative.

    In many ways, I think this older understanding has something important to teach us. We live in an age filled with apocalyptic anxiety. We worry about climate change, artificial intelligence, nuclear war, pandemics, and political instability. These fears are real, and they deserve to be taken seriously. But if we focus only on catastrophe, we risk becoming trapped by it.

    The ancient apocalyptic imagination reminds us to ask a different question: not simply what might end, but what might come after. What kind of future are we trying to build, and what role do we play in shaping it?

    That, ultimately, is the question at the heart of my work, research, and writing.

    This essay develops themes explored more fully in my recently published book, The Last Apocalypse: Consciousness, Revelation, and the Future of Humanity.

    Buy my book here

  • What Can We Do About Apocalyptic Anxiety?

    In a previous essay, we examined why it feels like the world is coming to an end. The central point was that while there are serious issues we must confront, we still have time to act.

    Part of the reason I approach apocalyptic anxiety the way I do comes from my work in construction. I’m a foreman for a construction company with seven other employes, we specialize in the renovation of historic commercial spaces. Each project entails its own unique challenges, both big and small. For example, in the project I’m working on right now, there is a structural wall that runs down the middle of a two-story building. We realized that the wall had become unsound over the years and we needed to replace it.

    This was an issue. It wasn’t a barrier. It was a challenge to overcome. That’s the way I have to look at every issue that comes up in a project.

    That’s why I approach the issue of apocalyptic anxiety the way in which I do. I feel it is a subject that many people do not want to address, so sometimes I feel like I’m bringing up something that shouldn’t be brought up.

    But if we truly believe the stakes are this high, then the question isn’t whether others are comfortable talking about it. It’s not about if other people are taking action. It’s whether we are. When the possibility on the table is self-destruction, waiting for broad awareness is a risk we can’t afford. At some point, individual recognition has to give way to action.

    This brings us to the question: What can we do about apocalyptic anxiety?

    My answer is relatively simple: we build a better future that is informed by what I call critical spirituality.

    Critical Spirituality

    We live in a world largely shaped by material concerns both at the surface level and at the level of our underlying worldview. The accumulation of things often drives our lives, and these things can come to define how we see ourselves and how others see us. At a deeper level, scientific thought plays a central role in shaping modern society. While enormously powerful, it is primarily concerned with the material world: the things that can be observed, measured, and tested.

    At the same time, fewer people in the developed world identify with organized religion. The result is a cultural environment in which there is often little room for spirituality. And yet, I believe that ancient wisdom traditions still have an important role to play. They offer insights into meaning, purpose, and human experience that can help us navigate the challenges of our time.

    We don’t have to accept these traditions uncritically. Instead, we can approach them with care and rigor. They are best understood by examining them in their historical and cultural contexts, and understanding how they developed and changed over time. Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Taoism, Buddhism, and many indigenous traditions all offer perspectives worth engaging.

    The goal is not to retreat from the modern world, but to develop our inner lives alongside it. We should cultivate depth, awareness, and a more complete understanding of what it means to be human. If we are to become the builders of a better future, if we are to avert potential catastrophe. then we need a solid foundation. Critical spirituality is an attempt to draw on deep traditions of wisdom while applying them thoughtfully to the realities we face today.

    Putting It into Practice

    Critical spirituality is not just a way of thinking, it is something that has to be lived. It takes shape at three interconnected levels: the individual, the community, and society as a whole.

    Individual
    It begins with our everyday actions: how we treat the people around us, how we respond to stress and uncertainty, and whether we choose compassion over reaction. Small choices matter. Cultivating awareness, patience, and empathy in daily life is the foundation of any meaningful change.

    Community
    From there, it extends into the communities of which we are part, such as our families, workplaces, and local networks. Critical spirituality calls us to engage more intentionally, to listen, to contribute, and to help create spaces where people can connect in more meaningful ways. Real change rarely happens in isolation; it grows through relationships.

    Societal
    At the broader level, these patterns can scale. Individual actions shape communities, and communities shape society. What begins as small, local efforts can grow into larger movements over time. While no single person can solve global problems alone, collective action, grounded in thoughtful and ethical engagement, can shift the direction of the systems we live within.

    Conclusion

    It can be difficult in our modern world to find time for reflection—for meditation, reading, contemplation, and taking a more active role in our communities. But this is what it will take to build a future that does not end in collapse. That future is not going to emerge on its own…it must be built through our everyday actions. This will require effort, intention, and a willingness to act even in small ways.

    In future essays, I will explore how, in the face of specific challenges such as AI, global instability, and climate change, spiritually informed action can help guide meaningful responses.