When The Sky Doesn’t Open

It’s been an interesting few weeks in the world to say the least.

Watching what’s unfolding in the Middle East has been stirring something deep in me. Not just concern, not just heartbreak—but something older.  Something programmed in me.  I grew up in First Baptist Church in Conroe, Texas.  And I was taught—clearly, repeatedly, and with certainty—that one day, Jesus was coming back.

Not metaphorically. Not spiritually. Physically.

We were told to keep our eyes on the skies.  Because at any moment, Jesus would return, descend through the clouds, and take all the “true believers” home.  But before that could happen, there were conditions.  The temple in Jerusalem had to be rebuilt. And since that space is currently occupied by a mosque, that meant something else had to happen first.  War.  Armageddon.  And not just as a possibility—but as prophecy.  As inevitability.  As something, in some circles, to be welcomed. Jesus feet literally landing on the Temple Mount.

So when I watch the news now… when I see conflict rising again in that part of the world… I can feel that old belief trying to come back online.

Is this it?  Is this how the end begins?

And what’s more disturbing is realizing that there are still alot of people—good people—who believe that if things escalate, it’s actually part of God’s plan.  That somehow, this is the path to redemption.  But I don’t believe that anymore.  And even writing that sentence… there’s still a part of me that feels like I’m doing something wrong.  Like I’m crossing a line I was told never to cross.  Sounds like blasphemy or heresy.

But I don’t believe that Jesus is coming back in the sky to rescue a select group of people while the rest of humanity is left behind or condemned to burn for eternity.  I don’t believe salvation is that small.  What I do believe—what I’ve come to experience—is something very different.

That the “second coming” isn’t an event we wait for.  It’s an awakening we participate in.  That Christ doesn’t return to us.  Christ returns through us.  Through awareness and compassion. Through the choice to see the divine in each other, even when it’s hard… especially when it’s hard.  And as I’ve been sitting with all of this, another memory has surfaced.

Vacation Bible School.  Little kids. Me included.  Singing at the top of our lungs:

Onward, Christian soldiers, marching as to war,
with the cross of Jesus going on before…

At the time, it felt innocent. Joyful, even.  But looking back now… I can see how early the language of militancy was introduced. How the idea of being “in the Lord’s army” got planted long before we had any ability to question it.  That was almost 60 years ago.

And now, watching certain expressions of modern Christianity—especially within Christian nationalism—I can’t help but notice how that same energy has evolved… and in some cases, intensified.  This sense of being in a battle, needing to fight for Jesus, and being on the right side of a holy, cosmic war.  And if I’m honest… I’m still unpacking it all.

Because part of me still recognizes the melody.  Still remembers the feeling. Still knows how easy it is to slip back into that framework.  But another part of me sees it clearly now.  Jesus said the kingdom of heaven is within us.  Not someday. Not somewhere else.  Within.

And maybe the real invitation—the one we miss while we’re looking up at the sky—is to bring that kingdom inside.  To embody it.  To live it into the world we’re actually standing in.

Because if Christ is something that lives within us… then it can’t be limited to one group, one belief, or one prayer said the right way.  It has to be bigger than that. 

And when I look at the world that way… the idea of war as a pathway to the Second Coming doesn’t hold.  It breaks something in me.  Because if the kingdom is within, then every life caught in that conflict carries that same spark. Every person—on every side—is part of the very thing we’re claiming to be waiting for.   And maybe the second coming isn’t about Jesus descending from the sky…  Maybe it’s about humanity rising into a deeper awareness of who we are.  Christ, not arriving… but awakening.

And maybe that doesn’t happen all at once.  Maybe it happens in simple moments.  Conversations, choices, decisions made in the quiet to see someone else as a human being. 

I definitely don’t have all the answers, but I know this for me… I’m not waiting for the sky to open.  I’m paying attention to what’s opening… here. In me, in us, as we awaken to the Christ Consciousness already within us.

And maybe that’s where the real return happens. .