Chaplains to the Apocalypse
Rev. Breanna Illéné, Director of Ecumenical Innovation and Justice Initiatives
“Congratulations, you’ve earned your Chaplains to the Apocalypse sticker!” I’ve been saying this phrase lately when I sit in meetings where things get heavy as a way to bring a word of levity when it all seems like too much. If you’ve seen us at a judicatory meeting this spring, you will have noticed that we have printed these stickers and are actually handing them out.
There was a point a few years ago in the middle of the worst days of the pandemic that I was on the phone with a colleague whose theology and circles are more conservative than mine, and he said, “Breanna, of all my colleagues who I thought would be apocalyptic preachers, you were not one of them.” But I, along with many of the staff at the WCC, have been sitting in this idea of the apocalypse for quite some time and we have found that whether we are sharing the ideas with colleagues or even partners at secular organizations we work with, the apocalypse actually offers a word of hope in a world that sometimes seems unrecognizable.
Often when we first think of apocalypse, we imagine one of the many movies that we’ve seen that involve explosions and the end of the world. It’s doom and gloom. I think many who first see our stickers or heard the theme of our annual meeting wondered what was happening at the WCC. They thought we were in a state of doom and gloom.
But let us think about what a Biblical Apocalypse is. It is a moment of a “great unveiling.” I’d like us to think about the pandemic: what did the apocalypse of the pandemic unveil? Our broken healthcare system? Our disconnection? Our mistrust? Another moment I think of is the apocalypse of the 2020 racial uprisings. Racism was unveiled in a new way for many.
Now, many of us knew that these things existed. But in a moment of apocalypse, they were unveiled in a new way, and I believe that God offered us something new: a moment to make a turn and move in a new direction. A true apocalypse means that the unveiling calls us to live differently. That God transforms us and invites us in a new direction.
I believe that apocalypses are constantly happening. Sometimes they are communal, and many are traveling through them, and sometimes they are individual. The cancer diagnoses or job loss that unveil our priorities or values in new ways, and God invites us into a new direction. As it seems the world speeds up and we (both individually and communally) face apocalypse after apocalypse, those of us in the Church are called to help people live in hope, to walk with each other, reminding others that they are not alone.
Last winter, I happened across the book “The Next Apocalypse” by Chris Begley on the shelf at the library. It felt appropriate for the conversations we’d been having at the WCC, and I was curious what an archeologist who teaches wilderness survival skills would say about this idea. I settled in for a book about prepping and how I needed to increase my survival skills. But I was blown away by the two big ideas I got from the book.
First: Major changes in civilization (aka apocalypses…he looks at events like the collapse of ancient empires) are never as fast as they seem when we learn about them hundreds of years later. Those on the ground just continue with everyday life and roll with the changes.
Second: Surviving an apocalypse and massive change happens because of community, not individuals. We can’t hunker down and prepare our way out of a crisis. We need each other.
As I reflect on these ideas through the lens of faith, I realize this is exactly where we in the Church are called: To love God and love our neighbors. To build communities that care for everybody (especially with an eye on those who are most marginalized) as we navigate changes in our world.
As we head towards Independence Day, this is often a weekend that I’ve preached that the best part of our country is the idea of INTERDEPENDENCE. Part of chaplaining the apocalypse is walking with each other and navigating both the minor and the major apocalypses of our lives. It’s knowing and reminding each other that we aren’t alone. It’s building communities of care and love. It’s knowing that God is constantly unveiling and inviting us to move deeper into love.
