Whiffs of Apocalypse

It's been an apocalyptic week in the news.  But when is it not an apocalyptic week, if one is inclined that direction?  Let me capture a few whiffs of apocalypse that came my way in the past few days:

--My various social media timelines, all 2 of them, have been full of nearby flooding, in Chattanooga and Raleigh, cars swept away kind of flooding.  Consequently, my dreams have been full of flooding.  We've had a lot of rain, and at one point in the middle of the night, a branch dropped onto the deck with a loud thump, which woke us both up.  I watched the rain while my spouse went to investigate.  I thought about the Hurricane Helene stories of houses swept away, and worried a bit, even though we don't live close to a river.

--Yesterday my spouse was invited to be part of a Zoom session that talked about disaster preparedness.  He and I compared notes about the damages done by hurricanes to our various houses.  It's not a great way to start the day.  I am astounded at the amount of damage and disruption through the years.  On the one hand, what did I expect when we moved to South Florida?  On the other hand, I have this idea that most U.S. families will only experience this level of disruption once in their lives--one catastrophic amount of damage to a home per family.  Maybe I'm wrong.  We've had at least 4:  Hurricane Katrina, Hurricane Wilma, Hurricane Irma, and the December flood of 1999.  I'm not counting Hurricane Helene, since our home wasn't damaged--we were just inconvenienced for two months (no electricity for 2 weeks, had to boil water for 2 months, no reliable internet for 2 months)--wait, I am counting it now.

--After yesterday's discussion of hurricanes and destruction, I headed south to Spartanburg, only to find out that part of I-26 was closed.  There were electronic signs that said "Road closed after Exit 58, expect delays."  In the past, the sign said, "I-26 closed, detour to Hwy 25."  So I thought that maybe a road was closed near Exit 58 which was slowing down traffic.  But I was wrong.  I was able to follow others as we went the wrong way down the entrance ramp at Exit 58.  I had to backtrack 20 miles to Highway 25 because the old Spartanburg Highway is still closed after Hurricane Helene.  Happily, I left early, to get out of the way of my spouse's Zoom call, so I did get to class on time.

--It's also easy to see apocalypse in these days of Trump.  There's the takeover, if that's what it is, of the D.C. police force to crack down on crime--what crime exactly?  Hard to be sure.  There's the summit with Russia today in Alaska--is it a summit or peace negotiations or just an opening chat?  Hard to be sure.  There's the dismantling of so much that seemed to be good about government and the ignoring of what seems to be unraveling; I may never get on a plane again at this rate, between air traffic control issues, plane manufacturing issues, and disease issues.

--And of course, there's the lectionary Gospel reading for Sunday:  Luke 12:49-56.  In fact, all of the readings for this Sunday have more than a whiff of apocalypse.  It's interesting to write this week's sermon, after spending last week writing a sermon on the "Have no fear, little flock" teaching of Jesus.