Good evening. My name is Dr. Doctrino. I am a master in the study of men’s thoughts as they go through their own microcosmic history in the macrocosmic history. I am, in other words, a psychological historian.
As a psychological historian, I am interested in finding out an individual’s experiences, perceptions, conclusions, and emotions during highly impacting life-events. It is not as though I am against objective history, I just love a good internal monologue side-by-side the linear facts. This, I feel, connects personality with triumph and tragedy.
Traumatic events that scar someone for life, cause the mind to run at an extremely high pace, take down lots of notes, and bathe them in sweat, anguish, and a great variety of emotions for later recollection – often unwanted recollection. Pleasurable events that fill the mind and senses with elation, or euphoria have a calming effect that does better for the whole man, and in the long run it has equal and opposite effects.
I am interested in both, and both find their respective climax in the experiences of the righteous and wicked on that greatest event of Earth’s or any other history: Judgment Day.
What follows is one psychological historian’s findings of what went through the minds of several good and bad cases during that great Day and on and on into forever. I have taken the liberty to translate every personal account into English, since I have gathered testimonies from all over the world. For the sake of ending on a psychologically uplifting note, I will begin with the accounts of the ungodly and then end with those of the blessed.
To begin with, objectively, the day of our Lord’s return began much as any on the one hemisphere and ended much as any on the other. Shops were opening and shops were closing, and some were at their peak hour. Some were rising, some were heading to bed, some were in a deep sleep, some were working through the night. Business, haste, hunting, begging, marrying, partying, studying, persecuting the church all went on like clockwork. The man of sin was exerting his diabolical pressure and at his height of his deceptive dominion. Then, out of nowhere, the sky was split with the ear-drum-cracking bellow of the last trumpet. I will leave the rest to the following subjective accounts.
A cab driver hearing the crack of the thunderous trumpet, jumped in his seat as his vehicle shook. “What the hell!” he yelped. He looked in his rear-view mirror to say, “Was dat thunda?-“, but noticed that his client was gripping his chest in pain, convulsing. “Ah, hell!” He got out his cell and got out of his car to open the back door. Suddenly the wind from the angels arriving caused his hat to fly off and turn him to look toward the wind. In terror from seeing the angels, he felt his lip quiver, left eye twitch, and then his head fell back while losing control of his bowels. Seeing the glory and dread of the angels’ faces caused his heart to feel as if it melted (literally) and like he lost all control of his muscles and all will to live. They quickly carried him and his passenger away for judgment.
When transcribing one man’s thoughts about the angels as they attended the Lord and gathered people, he thought, ‘they look as if lightning stayed a while and moved like a living thing with a mind of its own. They are serious! Their faces are so serious.’
One fellow from Wisconsin had, for about a month before this Day, the same dream at night. His window which faced the foot of his bed would open up to the Lord, who would again and again plead with him to forsake his sin, offering him life and grace if he would believe. Though this went on, and this man, Ted, felt the burden of conviction from the recurring dreams, he never believed. So, the night before the last Day he had another dream. He saw a dark silhouette of a man, strong, tall, and naked, with fiery eyes. Angry, fiery words leaped out of his mouth, “Since you spurned the grace of God, WHAT YOU GET IS THE HELL OF FIRE!” He said it as if on the verge of laughter or attacking him, Ted didn’t know which. In a cold sweat he awoke, without that former conviction, only a hollow feeling of hopelessness. When he looked up the term ‘hell of fire’ the next morning, his search took him to Matthew 5:22. That phrase seared into his consciousness…then the trumpet blasted. What rushed to his mind with confirmed and renewed efficacy? “THE HELL OF FIRE!” And he’s been repeating that phrase compulsively ever since.
While one middle aged man attempted to climb the ladder to the attic, in his fretful frenzy of steps he missed his footing and fell over the side of the ladder and down to the lower level of his house. The half flip he did landed his back on the banister, and giving way to his weight, he quickly fell through, breaking his back on the stairs while simultaneously cracking his skull on the floor. His only thoughts as he sailed through the air were, ‘Oh, sh**’ As he rose again a second or two later, he was hauled off to where he did not want to go, constantly repeating the words, “This is it! Oh! This is it! I knew it! Oh!” numbed to the pain of his recent injuries by the fear of death and judgment.
As the lava was bid to gush out, or rather shoot out from Earth’s crust, a man was caught in the blast of the upward flow as it burst in a column from Whyte Ave in Edmonton, Canada. He was looking up at the hole in the sky, caught in the chagrin and despair of lostness at that hour. In a flash, the times hearing the gospel on that very Avenue came imposing themselves on his consciousness. Equally as quickly, a torrent of liquid fire shot up from the ground inches away from him and angled. It burned through his mid-section on hundred feet more, faster than he could wince in pain. However, moments later he was made to stand before the fire issuing from our Lord’s throne, and upon his sentencing, be thrown into the Lake of Fire. While standing before the judgment seat of Christ, he was doubled over clutching his gaping abdomen, and had to be made to stand by the angels attending. Enraged at his torment, the justice he was getting, and at the Lord’s presence, he tried to curse but his mouth was stopped. As his mouth was providentially sealed, tears burning down his cheeks, his eyes widened as the hand drew near to pick him up and discard him. His thoughts were, ‘Why did I drink or dance instead of listen to those preachers?’
In Yokohama, Japan, several people got into a low-speed motorcycle accident at first sight of the great white throne and the attending brightness. A notorious gang member who was in that pile up, stood up, removed his shades with his jaw dropped, and thought, ‘What have I done? What am I going to do now?’ Scanning the conception of the sight of a nearby civilian’s, he thought, ‘There is no way this is a dream. That is the brightest throne and king. He looks royal, He looks divine. This throne is nothing from this earth. We are in deep trouble.’
Seeing the throne from North Sentinel Island, one native thought, ‘That is God! And I am a dead man. How many are my wicked works! My hands are stained with blood. How can I escape?’ He actually, with a few others, tried to drown themselves in the ocean. Only a fierce wave rocked them back onto shore, where before they their wits about them, were rounded up and hauled to judgment, weeping and begging for mercy.
One very sad story is a case in Kent, England. A man had just been at his pastor’s flat, being counseled by him and a godly brother Eric, not to go to the pub as he was tempted to. The text of Scripture they used to try and persuade him was Matthew 24:45-51. His heart said, ‘F*ck it! I’m goin’ to have me a good time.’ While drinking his brains out and scoffing at his counselors, the power went out as the Lord lit up the sky and the trumpet blared. His thoughts went immediately to “…will cut him in pieces and put him with the hypocrites…” from Matthew 24:45. He rushed outside in the pitch black and stuck his finger down his throat to hurl the liquor, thinking he could cover up what he’d done. Barely aware of himself and the time he was snatched by one of the Lord’s angels, and the poor fellow reasoned as he was carried, ‘This is just for the judgment of the righteous. I’m just one of His that didn’t do so well. “Hypocrite” at times, yes, but nothing worse than others. This is okay.’ His heart sank as none of the proceedings were favorable or promising. His eyes spoke volumes as he looked into his counselors’ eyes for the very last time at the witness stand. The death nell came, and he had to go.
Now, we have given the wicked a longer say than they deserve. Onto the elect.
One dear brother, Sothea, in Prey Veng, Cambodia, was at that moment being crowned a martyr. Some of devil’s children tied a cable around his neck like a leash and had him lean back while on his knees. His murder beat him on the head with a shovel while his friends held him up. But as the trumpet blasted, Sothea’s eyes opened, instantly better, the leash burst, causing the men to stumble backward as their victim rose. He never forgets the look on their faces that moment, ‘The surprise. The shock. The dread and shame. I have never felt this loved by the Lord Jesus. I am His. I am free!’ He ascended with a wide smile as He looked up in joy to meet the Lord.
Meanwhile, in India, Nina, who was abducted and trafficked as a sex slave at age 11, was hungering, as normal, for her Lord to come rescue her. She had just passed her 15th birthday in tears. Converted young, she “set [her] hope fully on the grace that was to be brought to [her] at the revelation of Jesus Christ”, as 1 Peter 1:13 taught her. She was spared what was to be her last performance-against-her-will as the walls of the house were ripped off the structure and angels tore through the house, separating her and her wrongful master. At first she thought it was a deliverance by angels like she read about in Acts, but then she was carried into an altogether higher pitch of “joy that it inexpressible and filled with glory” (1 Peter 1:8). Words cannot describe her elation, but when she realized it was the End, she thought, ‘I am going to my Husband, who loves me and died for me. I cannot wait.’ Her tears flowed with joy and her heart felt overwhelmed with how much beyond expectation her deliverance was.
Pat, the oldest and best in his high-rise apartment in Minneapolis, Minnesota, was just engaging a neighbor about the gospel. He was internally praying, ‘Lord, give me words. Give him understanding.’ His conversation tended towards being ready for Judgment Day, when suddenly the ground quaked as the trumpet’s deafening roar filled their hall. The two looked at each other, and Pat had to shake his head. Inside he wished his prayers had been answered, but he knew it was useless now. With a unwittingly transformed figure, a very young, striking Pat said to his astonished neighbor, “I’m sorry. I will miss you.” And away he went.
One young man who pondered the events of the last Day often, asked, “Would your ears pop as you ascend to meet the Lord in the air, because of the pressure change?” He found out that day three things with regard to that question. 1) Yes they did. 2) It didn’t hurt, because he had a glorified body. 3) It didn’t matter so much as seeing his Lord.
Another man who never had the full satisfaction of a full orbed assurance and was fretfully going about working out his own salvation, thought he would be overwhelmed at the second coming. He feared greatly the words, “Depart from me, for I never knew you”, and would pray often repetitious prayers for forgiveness, acceptance, and mercy, without much ease. While he was in his basement suite kneeling over his Bible and praying Scripture, the window blew out at the trumpet of God. And then (he never forgets this) a sudden arousal of his new nature to draw near to God became pronounced, and he knew (along with looking down at his changed features) that he was one of Christ’s sheep. Love filled his heart, and he was carried away to be with the Lord forever.
A former member of the World Mission Society Church of God was won to Christ after considering what the real Christ’s return was to be like. From the day of his searching the Scriptures, on to his conversion, his zeal never fizzled off. His head was often raised as he looked for the clouds parting, the bright glory, the unmistakable entry, the definitive and recognizable Christ on the throne, the loud trumpet and angel calls. As he was trying to reason with and persuade two members of that cult, as he detailed what Jesus Christ’s return would be like (as opposed to their teaching), the light of glory blazed across the sky like lightning. The suited cult members clambered about and asked if there was anything they could do. The only reply was, “No. Remember, I told you: there are no second chances when He comes. This is it.” He walked to steps to the door, when he felt a rush of wind, and turned to see an angel bear him up. His zeal propelled him to take note of the details, ‘There are more angels than I thought. The light is beautiful, but unbearable. His throne looks heavy. Ah, too bright.’
Lewis (we could call him a poet) had an apt description of the events in his consciousness, ‘We vault through the air while the wicked come out hauled to tribunal like prisoners. Into the ethereal, misty air to pay homage to our King. We now float down to bring Him back with us to begin judgment. It is the most glorious event in history, and we get to help in it! Not a contrary voice in all the church in adjoining judgment. Not a work unweighed. Not a clock anywhere telling us the time. It is forever in a day. Now we behold all the wicked and their father drowned in Hell. Our shouts and laughter start and never end. What a glorious, holy day. Hallelujah!’
This concludes our program on the psychological history of the righteous and wicked during the last Day. This documentation is a part of the series on Psychological History in Archives. Visit us anytime, peruse, and meditate on what our great God has done throughout history, to the glory of His holy name. Amen.
Circa. eternity future.
