I don’t have any of that. I do, however, have a nice mountain of student loan debt.
This prediction got a lot of interest at my house. My kids had never heard someone predict the end of the world before, and they had lots of questions, about how, and why, and how did he know, and what should people do. I was certain it wouldn’t happen, and told them so many times, but they were still half wondering. The oldest one rang me from her friend’s house during the night (we are a few time zones ahead of the USA) since they were trying to work out when it would happen, our time, and had totally freaked themselves out. I explained about that it was meant to follow the time zones, and should have already happened here, and that calmed her down a little. But I think she was not entirely at ease until the next day, when 6pm California time came and went with nothing to show for it.
What? We’re still here?
That was what my Episcopal Priest said this morning. 
Well, that’s all kind of the point, isn’t it? I mean, who among us wouldn’t like to let go of all our responsibilities, obligations, etc. It’s part of what makes religion so seductive in the first place…no matter what happens here, a better world awaits. And if the end of the world happens…woohoo! Partay! No more of those pesky social restrictions. No more speeding tickets, no more taxes, no more whatever it is that oppresses you. It’s how religion has sucked people from the dawn of time.
It would have created an interesting theological paradox.
If I witnessed a group of bible-thumpers suddenly vanish at the predicted moment, I would have considered that to be strong evidence. So, I would technically have become a believer.
On the other hand, I would still believe that “by Grace alone, through Faith alone” is a fundamentally bad way to run a universe.
Do you think the Deity would save someone who believes in Him, but believes that He is wrong?
I’m disappointed that Blondie’s Rapture is still stuck in my head. But no, I never entertained even the tiniest possibility that something rapturous would actually happen. It’s absurd.
There was definitely a part of me that hoped for something to happen. Especially when I was losing my tennis match. After losing one particular point, I remember thinking, now would be a good time for the Rapture.
I was walking up Sixth Avenue Saturday evening, and when the clock struck six another ground failed to open up, a couple dozen people let out a big cheer. That was fun. I’m a little disappointed the guy who was standing outside the post office on Friday wasn’t there on Saturday. I was hoping to give him a friendly pat on the back and say something like “It’s OK. You’ll get 'em next time, champ.”