Essay by Martha Quillen
The Millennium – January 2000 – Colorado Central Magazine
I WANTED TO WRITE something extraordinary for the millennium — something succinct, important, relevant. and unforgettable. This is, after all, an occasion that only happens every thousand years.
But then I found my enthusiasm for the event waning.
And that seems to be the case for most Americans. Millennial cruises have been canceled. There’s a last ditch, millennial event sale; hotels have gone a-begging; casinos are promising cut-rate galas to a growing mass of party poopers. A TV news poll found that 61% of those polled planned to stay home on New Year’s Eve.
In the Denver Post, Diane Carmen preached the irrelevance of millennial madness to a host of already converted followers. The New Year was immaterial, she insisted. Christ was not actually born on December 25th of 00, anyway, Carmen pointed out. And we’ve messed up the calendars several times over the centuries, so 2000 is not actually 2000. And besides that, the Chinese and Jews have entirely different calendars. So what’s the point of getting all excited about the millennium?
There is, of course, no point whatsoever. It’s not like a political win or a super bowl. The year 2000 will happen whether we’re ready or not, and whether we care or not — and breathing is all anyone has to do to be in on the occasion.
Quite obviously, Carmen merely meant to discourage apocalyptic fervor. But anti-apocalypse arguments such as hers are probably less persuasive than beating a dead horse in the hopes he’ll win the Derby.
Like a lot of people, I expected a veritable torrent of apocalyptic zeal this year, but such predictions haven’t panned out. Why?
Well, because millennialists are way ahead of Carmen. First off, the millennium, in this case, doesn’t refer to the year, it refers to the 1,000-year-reign of Christ prophesied in The Book of Revelation. As for the date of that event, theories abound.
In the twentieth century, the followers of Jim Jones, members of the Order of the Solar Temple, Branch Davidians, and Heaven’s Gate cultists all embraced apocalyptic views, but apparently they weren’t particularly inspired by the year 2000. (By Carmen’s reckoning, some of them may have been more correct in their numerical accuracy, but I hardly think that was her point.)
In the 16th century, millenarians actually seized the city of Münster in Westphalia, threw out the unbelievers, and attempted to establish the New Jerusalem. In the 17th century, some apocalyptic Puritans tried to establish the Fifth Monarchy predicted in Daniel.
In 19th Century America, William Miller decided that Christ would return on March 21, 1844. When nothing happened, Miller appointed a second date, October 22, 1844. Later, he concluded that his date was correct and that the examination of the Book of Names was underway; Christ would return as soon as it was completed.
Miller’s followers started a magazine, and later founded an official denomination, the Seventh-Day Adventists — who may no longer be sure of the date, but who still expect a literal fulfillment of Biblical prophecies, as do many other Christians. (Many Christians, however, believe that the books of Daniel and Revelation are allegorical.)
Actually, apocalyptic notions — the idea that God will intervene at World’s End — are far older than Christianity. Thus, it’s a given that if this world survives the millennium, apocalyptic convictions will too. For if millenarians have proven anything over the centuries, it’s that they are patient. (But one would, of course, expect that people who base their religious expectations on 1,000-year cycles would have to be patient.)
In truth, Carmen missed a great many calendar and Biblical anomalies that might be germane to a passionate millenarian (and I actually don’t think many fervent believers are so sloppy). But her miscalculations made no difference to me. I merely believe it will turn 2000 on January 1, according to my calendar, my bank, and (I hope) my computer.
Yet Carmen’s column bugged me.
STILL, IT TOOK ME A WHILE to figure out why an inconsequential little column about calendar perturbations irked me (since I agree wholeheartedly that it’s not playing fair to try to foment an apocalypse when presumably God gets to chose the time).
But millennialism has played a significant role in many of America’s Protestant churches for more than 150 years without precipitating disaster, so Carmen’s failure to recognize that most millenarians are perfectly ordinary, law-abiding citizens bothered me. I don’t know whether it’s safe to be a millenarian these days or not, but considering the fates of David Koresh and Randy Weaver — extremists to be sure, but extremists with constitutionally protected beliefs — I wouldn’t count on it.
Perhaps, at this point, no one should mock millennialist beliefs without pointing out that the vast majority of millenarians are not gun-toting fanatics, crazed cultists, or dangerous eccentrics.
As far as I’m concerned, Adventists and others can believe what they will; maybe it inspires them to live each day as if it could be their last. More importantly, though, maybe the folks who preach liberal views and praise cultural diversity should start believing in those ideals.
But that would be a first.
For anyone to actually live up to their stated ideals in the late twentieth century would be such a novelty the world might quit spinning — out of sheer shock.
And where would that leave us?
Well, I guess that might please the apocalyptic gurus, (but I suspect many of the rest of us will be ill-prepared).
The scariest thing about liberals — those self-appointed champions of the oppressed — is that they oftimes seem uncommonly blind to their own bigotry. But then the scariest thing about all of us is that we tend to worry so much about the differences of others that it totally escapes us that there may be danger in our own obsessive preoccupation with other peoples’ values.
Whether politically left or right, everybody seems upset about how everyone else lives these days. They’re immoral. Their music is obscene. Their television programs encourage promiscuity. Their video games breed violence. They’re poisoning the biosphere with their ozone. They’re ruining the planet with their wastes. They’re driving gas-guzzling SUVs. They’re clear cutting the forests. Their neglecting their children. Their mines are raping the earth. They’re smoking, drinking, taking drugs, committing adultery, and eating themselves into obesity. They drive like maniacs.
Whereas we, of course, are doing nothing wrong.
Or if we are, it is certainly not the same thing.
For example, if George Bush once used cocaine, it was a youthful indiscretion; if kids in Texas today use cocaine, it’s a felony. If Democrats commit adultery, it’s a character issue; if Republicans commit adultery, it’s a personal matter. If loggers work, it’s exploiting the environment; if environmentalists use that wood to build homes in a fire danger area, it’s living in harmony with nature.
I think the twentieth century has been hard on the psyche. Somewhere between the rise of the KKK, Hitler, the atom bomb, race riots, Viet Nam, My Lai, Nicaragua, El Salvador, Somalia, the New Western History, and Bosnia we’ve been forced to face a lot of unpleasant truths about ourselves. Although they’re certainly as old as time, we seem to have just discovered racism, chauvinism, domestic abuse, child abuse, and incest.
These are crazy times. If the drift of politics and the press are any indication, many of us apparently believe that we have sunk into depravity, ruined America, failed our children, and are now busily destroying the planet.
I think a lot of us — perhaps even most of us — are a little depressed about the future.
It’s funny. When I read George Sibley’s piece this month, I could sense his disenchantment with the very concept of human achievement, which almost exactly mirrored several conversations I had with my daughter Abby on the phone.
Abby was taking a World Civilization class, only to be left wondering: What civilization? The one that launched an inquisition in Europe? Or the one that burned young brides in India?
I suspect, if George and Abby didn’t both like to read so much, they would advocate hightailing it back to the stone age. Actually, I think that’s what a lot of us are trying to do, to run back to the past, reverse the course of progress, hide in these thar’ hills.
Except it’s not working.
THE GENIE is out of the bag, so to speak. Mankind has made enormous strides (although perhaps not always magnificent ones) in the last fifty years. Now, we can blow up the planet. We’re working on a human genome project. Super models are selling their eggs on the internet.
Today, a motley crew of insurrectionists could easily amass enough weapons to challenge the Roman Empire, and any half-bright sixth grader can find the information to make a bomb — and the literary inspiration. Everyday we seem to face a whole new moral challenge.
Let’s face it, if mankind is going to make it to the next millennium, we’re going to have to get better and be better.
But I don’t think all of this gloom and doom is helping us. We have faced some hard truths about ourselves, and now we all know that we have been exploited, discriminated against, ignored, folded, spindled, and mutilated. But all of this guilt, accusation, finger-pointing, blaming and depression seems a trifle counter-productive.
People claim that they want a more spiritual existence, and I think — right now — we desperately need that. I think we need to have some faith that there is — indeed — a truth, a light, and a way. And that we can and will find it.
At this point, the new millennium may sound like “a mission impossible.” But this particular mission doesn’t include the option, “if you choose to accept it.” We are here, on the eve of a new beginning.
So personally, I’m trying to muster some enthusiasm for the occasion. Let’s get out the horns, light the fireworks, and let the church bells ring.
–Martha Quillen
