Having read and listened to sermons about the Book of Revelations at eight years old, one might suggest that experience prepared me for the nightmare scenario we find ourselves in today. Logically, that would assertion track. But it’s wrong. In fact, that was the moment I lost my faith, due to a combination of anxiety-related insomnia—again, I was eight years old—and confusion at a supposedly loving God’s cruelty. Total annihilation of humankind if we don’t all accept Him as the sole Truth and way of life? At the time, it seemed to me conditional and bleak: a choke hold on spiritual freedom. And so I shed the fears of having my flesh burned clean off by fire falling from the heavens, and kept this retributive God—and that version of the end of the world—at a distance from then on.
Still, I was raised in the knowledge that our world will end. Now, I don’t think this is the end, but it is an end of a particular view of society. Whether this means the major structures upon which the Global North has been built will be abolished come the pandemic’s end remains to be seen. But what we can see is that the foundations are cracked.
In 2017, apathetic about my work, uninsured with confounding health issues, despairing over the political climate, I became disillusioned with meritocracy and capitalism. Thankfully, with guidance from more politically and philosophically literate (Marxist) friends, I kept nihilism at bay. I discovered reproductive justice, a theory and practice for understanding the social determinants of reproductive care, and liberation theology. Essentially, liberation theology means viewing the equitable, humanist teachings of Jesus Christ through a Marxist lens. I began to unlearn the trauma responses to my fundamentalist past. I was imbued with a deepening sense of hope. At this point, you could have told me what was coming three years later and I would probably have laughed off your bad vibes.
Now, it seems like chaos is descending on us like a Biblical firestorm. It’s not a nuclear war, but it looks like Posadists have made some points.
As both a spiritual(-ish) person and a materialist—having been exposed to both prophecy and theory—I feel like I should be prepared for what’s coming. But I’m not. Nor will I ever be. Still, I’m finding peace in the knowledge that uncertainty is part of the human experience. And despite the fact that barbarism has fertile ground to grow in moments like these, I’m inspired by the unwavering will of the Left and my dearest comrades in the struggle. Even as the fire rains down, we will emerge with a sturdier foundation, ready to fight for liberation from all forms of oppression, for peace, and a future of guaranteed positive rights for all. On unsteady ground, I remain grounded.
Cheers to the end of this world, the dawning of a new one in love, and solidarity forever.