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Show Ten O'Clock Whistle I by David Fleisher I'm not ready for heaven yet... Members of a devout religious group in Tucson, Arizona, believe they will be physically lifted to Heaven to be with God on June 28. According to my pocket calculator, that's in about three weeks. "Oooo, glory, I get bliss just thinking about it," said the spiritual leader of the Lighthouse Gospel Tract Foundation, a fundamentalist group made up of about fifty members. One member of the group quit his job and sold his home, another one donated his Porsche, and a former award-winning bodybuilder cut training, all in preparation for the heavenly lift-off. And others have already sold all their property. "We're not just going to some mountain hideaway; we'rev leaving the Earth," the spiritual leader explained. In the film business, this is commonly known as "a wrap," meaning that's it; the scene is over and everybody can go home for the day. Of course, these people in Arizona see it as more than just a simple wrap; they see it as a complete wrap-up: that's it. This scene is over. We're going to heaven. To hell with it. With all due respect to their beliefs, I think they're jumping the gun a little bit. Then again, maybe they know something I don't know. It should be emphasized that these people are serious; this is not one of your summer get-aways to the High Uinta Mountains. This is the big one; the Big Trip. These people have circled June 28 on their calendars, and they're busy packing their suitcases. And on the night of June 27, they're going to stand on their front lawns, shake hands and say, "Well, good luck! See you later!" I wish I was ready for the complete wrap-up, -but the fact of the matter is, I don't want to go to heaven yet. June is a bad month for me. I've got too many things I need to do. Little things, nothing big, but they still need my attention. The car needs another tune-up. My apartment could use a summer cleaning. I want to see my skis, and I need to renew my subscription to Newsweek. There is one. big thing. I'm writing a book and I want it to be a best seller before the big director in the sky yells, "Okay, everybody, we have a complete wrap-up!" Maybe I'm just making up excuses. Maybe I'm procrastinating. Whenever I go to the dentist for a check-up, I invariably think to myself the night before, "Oh, I don't have to go to the dentist. My teeth are fine." Or, when my car needs washing, I sometimes say, "Ah, what the heck. I'll wait until it rains." Maybe I'm just afraid of the unknown. I know I hated the first day of school. And later, when I was in high school, I would get indigestion the day before a big race; I was on the track team and ran the mile. Although I am a disbeliever in the June 28 deadline, I can't help but wonder what it's going to be like for those people who take part in the lift-off. As the spiritual leader in Arizona explains, "This is known as rapture. And when rapture takes place, the people not saved will be able to see us being saved. There's no such thing as a secret rapture." Loosely translated, this means that we earthlings will be able'-to actually watch the spiritual leader and his followers June 28 during their inomentus trip. Given the fact I will more than likely remain on the ground in Park City, I've decided to go out and buy a good pair of binoculars, maybe even a telescope. I missed Skylab, but I'm not going to miss this thing, ho way. ' I don't mean to be a pessimist, yet there is something else to consider. How do we know for sure that God is ready for us? Maybe he's a little busy this month; he could have a tight schedule just like the rest of us. This isn't like going to a hold in Chicago where you can make reservations ahead of time. These things take a while to happen. You can't rush God. My philosophy is simple: when He's ready, I'll be ready. And I'm not going to send him any reminders in the mail, either. lie knows exactly what's going on. But just Ln case I'm wrong, I'm going to be standing on my back porch June 28. ..with binoculars in hand. As 1 walk up Main Street, I hear the Ten O'Clock Whistle. |