The relentless hunger for novelty and sensation that characterizes our time has produced a peculiar and most malignant form of spiritual theatre. We have recently been made unwilling spectators to just such a performance, a sorry exhibition of prophetic malpractice that has preyed upon the credulous and brought a fresh wave of derision upon the name of Christ. This is not a matter for gentle debate; it is a spiritual malady that requires the sharpest of scalpels, for it is a pathology of the soul, rooted in the twin evils of pride and deceit.
The affair centers on one Joshua Mhlakela, a man who, with a staggering degree of self-assurance, declared that the rapture of the Church would occur on September 23rd or 24th, 2025. This was not presented as a humble theory; it was delivered with the iron certainty of a man who claimed to have received it from the very “mouth of the Almighty God,” a man who was, in his own words, “a billion percent sure.” He threw down a gauntlet of defiance, daring any who would “pull up scriptures to oppose” him, for God Himself, he insisted, would vindicate him on the appointed day.
That day, of course, arrived and departed with the same mundane regularity as any other. The heavens remained unmoved. The saints remained on earth. The prophet was exposed as a fraud. Yet, in the aftermath, one listened in vain for a note of contrition, for a heartbroken admission of error before the thousands he had misled. Instead, what appeared was a spectacle of shameless evasion that is the unique hallmark of the unrepentant deceiver. Mr. Mhlakela claimed he was right all along; the lie was not in his prophecy, but in our shared understanding of the calendar. God, he now explained with an almost comical audacity, was operating on the archaic Julian calendar, a convenient discovery that shifted his failed prediction into early October.
This is not only a mistake; it is an act of profound dishonesty. His defense is a tissue of lies, easily unpicked by his own prior statements. Weeks before the date, he had marked the time as a mere “14 days from now,” a statement that pins his prophecy to the common Gregorian calendar and exposes his subsequent chronological gymnastics for the contemptible fraud that it is. He demonstrates the moral character of a man “puffed up,” so insulated by his own self-importance that he feels no need to apologize to the souls he has wounded—souls who, in their trust, sold their homes and abandoned their livelihoods. He is utterly indifferent to the ruin he has caused, for his primary concern has never been a flock of any sort, but the preservation of his own squalid pedestal.
Having waded through the murky swamp of such profane and vain babblings, let us now wash our minds and hearts in the clear, cool streams of God’s revealed word. For the hope of the Lord’s return is not a riddle to be solved by esoteric calculations, but a promise to be cherished, a fountain of comfort for weary souls.
It is a “blessed hope,” this appearing of our great God and Saviour. Its dearest description is given not to create confusion, but to bring solace to grieving hearts.
Hear the word of the Lord:
“For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord. Wherefore comfort one another with these words.” (1 Thessalonians 4:16-18)
Notice the very soul of this revelation! It is a comfort. The Lover of our souls is coming for His own. It is a reunion, where those who have fallen asleep in Jesus are awakened first, and then, in a glorious and indivisible company, we shall all be gathered to Him. This is the promise: “so shall we ever be with the Lord.” The end of the journey is not a place, but a Person.
The very nature of this promise is its imminent possibility. It is to be looked for at any moment. This is why the folly of date-setting is not only an error, but an act of profound disobedience. Any man who dares to attach a day or an hour to this glorious event places himself in direct rebellion against the plain words of the Lord Jesus Christ Himself, who erected an impassable bulwark against such arrogance:
“But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only.” (Matthew 24:36)
This single verse is the tombstone of all prophetic speculation. To claim to know the day is to claim a knowledge that the Son, in His earthly ministry, declared belonged to the Father alone. The Lord desires us to be watchful servants, not anxious astrologers. The uncertainty is a gift, for it fosters a spirit of constant readiness and holy living.
Indeed, the true purpose of this blessed hope is not to cause us to quit our jobs, but to purify our hearts. “And every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even as he is pure” (1 John 3:3). A true longing for the Lord’s appearing does not lead one to sell a house; it leads one to cleanse the heart. It inspires us to “live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world” as we await His coming (Titus 2:12).
Pastor Thomas Irvin
George County Baptist Church
Lucedale, Mississippi
