When Terry Ratzmann shot and killed seven people in a Wisconsin church service Saturday, the eyes of America suddenly focused on an obscure sect based in Charlotte, N.C. -- the Living Church of God.
In many ways, the Living Church of God echoes the beliefs and practices of well-known evangelical groups. But police speculate that its powerful focus on an imminent apocalypse, which is central to its teachings, may have prompted Ratzmann's actions.
The Living Church of God is one of the many splinter groups formed since the Worldwide Church of God took a turn in the 1990s toward the orthodox mainstream. The presiding evangelist of the Living Church of God, Roderick C. Meredith, was ordained in 1952 by Herbert W. Armstrong, founder of the Worldwide Church of God. Meredith's penchant for outrageous statements and his aggressive leadership style have made him both popular and controversial as an author and a preacher.
Like numerous evangelical churches, the Living Church of God is committed to the inerrancy of the Bible, born-again conversion, heterosexual marriage and evangelical missions. Its authoritarian church polity may be cause for concern, but it is not alone in such a tendency. Its belief in Saturday worship and the practice of Old Testament rituals also are shared by other denominations considered to be in the evangelical mainstream.
The church does have strict teachings about separation from the world, which includes non-participation in civil politics, the court system and military service. Members decline to observe the traditional holidays of Christmas and Easter, and they reject the doctrine of the Trinity. Church doctrine also includes a peculiar belief that white Anglo-Americans are the literal descendants of the lost tribes of Israel, and heirs to the covenant promises.
The church's apocalyptic convictions have come under scrutiny in recent days, yet, in all fairness, it holds to a view of the world's end that is not too different from that of other evangelicals who embrace the "Left Behind" theology of the popular fiction novels. So what is it that is different, and perhaps dangerous, about it?
Official church teachings state that history is in the penultimate era in which there is still an "open door" to preach and teach the gospel to all the world. In recent days, however, Meredith has hinted that the door may be closing and that the end of the world as we know it may be imminent. He has pointed to natural disasters and wars as signs that the apocalypse is approaching, and he has intimated that an impending financial collapse may soon devastate the United States' economy.
Still, it may not be the belief in the end of the world that is the problem, but rather the mistake of predicting the end. This sort of prophetic certainty can be problematic. Jesus himself said, "But of that day or that hour no one knows" (Mark 14:32). Nevertheless, many have proceeded to claim to know what cannot be known.
The most infamous example was William Miller, who correlated biblical prophecy with current events and announced that Oct. 22, 1844, would be the time of the coming kingdom. When the day came and went, it became known by Miller's followers as "the Great Disappointment." Apocalyptic preachers ever since have learned to couch their predictions in vague language that is often more akin to the daily horoscope or a fortune cookie.
Yet not all apocalypticism is merely speculative or harmless. Randy Weaver at Ruby Ridge, Idaho, and David Koresh at Waco, Texas, are reminders that violence can be a result of eschatological imagination.
The recent events in Wisconsin suggest there may be a darker lesson about a preoccupation with apocalypticism of even the more temperate "Left Behind" variety. Fascination with and speculation about "the end" can foster an atmosphere of paranoia and pessimism. It is one thing to be entertained by fictional novels, but quite another to entertain ideas as historical reality.
Apocalyptic preachers want the liberty to predict the collapse of civilization and the end of the world without ever having to worry that someone may believe them and act accordingly. It would be wise to remember that preaching can be a dangerous craft.