Soon after Rosann Catalano asked me to write an article on this past year's Scripture Forum, I realized that I had accept-ed an impossible task. How does one summarize six three-hour sessions with seven scholars, especially when the subject is eschatology and the apocalyptic imagination?

Do I need to mention that "eschatology" comes from ta eschata in Greek, meaning "the last things"? Should I try to summarize recent scholarly distinctions between apocalpyse, apocalyptic eschatology, and apocalypticism? Does everyone who reads these pages already know that "apocalypse" comes from the Greek word for "revelation," as in the last book of the Christian scriptures? (Not everyone knows that it's Revelation, not Revelations.)

The distinguished historian Jaroslav Pelikan wrote: "Various ob-servers have suggested that the nervous laugh is an infallible key to the deepest anxieties of any society. By that index, not merely death but all the major themes of eschatology ... must be reckoned as unfinished business for many supposedly secu-larized moderns, for any public reference to them inevitably evokes a giggle." He goes on to note that many are embar-rassed to be caught dealing seriously with eschatological questions. (Jaroslav Pelikan, The Melody of Theology [Cam-bridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press] 1988, pp. 74-75.)

I know what he means. My first youthful exposure to eschatol-ogy was through pre-millennial dispensationalism (rhymes with "sensationalism"). In divinity school my (embarrassed?) teach-ers seldom mentioned the subject. Although the scriptures are chock full of apocalyptic and eschatological materials, I admit that nowadays they rarely appear on my homiletical radar screen.

I might as well confess it: I am an "eschatapocaphobe." Could the ICJS help people like me? I clearly needed the benefit of the sort of thing the ICJS does so well -- scholarly text study with Jews and Christians, black and white, men and women.

My "eschatapocaphobia" began in my youth. While riding with my parents down a two-lane blacktop road in the rural south, I saw a concrete cross by the road side. It was silhouetted against the kudzu

Eschatology and apocalyptic imagination are no laughing matter. From Jonestown to Waco to Heavensgate, we see the shadow side of these visions.

vines climbing over the pine trees. Huge letters proclaimed "Prepare to meet God." My parents ex-plained that some of the locals believed that the world would soon come to an end, and that we had better be ready!

They rewarded my curiosity by giving me a Scofield Reference Bible, brimming with with charts and notes on everything from the great tribulation to Arma-geddon. Although I did not yet know the words eschatology and apocalyptic, I was pouring over their arcane mysteries. The Reverend Scofield covered everything from the abomina-tion of desolation to backsliding and the Devil.

Fast forward to seminary, where I learned to classify such thinking under the category of pre-millennialism (Jesus will re-turn before the millennium). There were also competing positions: post-millennialism (Jesus will return after the millen-nium), and a-millennialism (there will be no millennial age).

I was confused enough to turn to some of Pelikan's nervous humor. I discovered persons of two other persuasions: (1) pro-millennialists, who were for the millennium whenever it might happen, and (2) pan-millennialists, who were sure it would all pan out all right in the end.

However, eschatology and the apocalyptic imagination are no laughing matter. Sometimes the millennialists make interpreta-tive moves with deadly consequences. From Jonestown in Guyana to the Branch Davidians in Waco, Texas, and on to the Heavensgate cult suicides in California, we can see the dark side of eschatological and apocalpytic visions taken to the extreme.

Last fall the ICJS Scripture Forum offered a better approach to eschatology than embarrassed giggles or deadly cultic illusions. Chris Leighton wrote, "With the closing of one millennium and the opening of another (according to the Gregorian calendar), we can expect a culture intoxicated by apocalyptic fantasies. We are eager to equip our congregants so that they can critically assess the latest outpourings in light of their own religious traditions."

Leading off was Dr. Katheryn Darr from Boston University with a study of Ezekiel 37, the famous passage on the valley of dry bones. Dr. Neil Gillman of Jewish Theological Seminary ad-dressed the topic of "Responses to Death: Jewish Eschatology, A Text Study."

ICJS staffers Chris Leighton and Rosann Catalano escorted us through the shadowy valleys of Psalm 88, which begins with a cry in the night and ends in darkness. Dr. Rick Carlson of Lutheran Theological Seminary guided us through texts associ-ated with "Paul and the Apocalyptic Horizon."

Dr. Walter Brueggemann of Columbia Theological Seminary brought his remarkable energy to a session titled, "Alternative Visions: Cultural Assumptions in Biblical Perspective."

Pastor Brad Braxton of Frederick Douglas Community Church concluded the series with a seminar on "Apocalyptic and Eschatology in African American Christian Traditions," providing participants with a comprehensive fifteen-page syllabus.

The ICJS had come to the rescue! Armed with fresh insights and exposed to solid resources, I now feel ready to approach apocalyptic and eschatological texts without anxiety and nervous laughter. Thanks to ICJS I can introduce myself as a recovering "eschatapocaphobe."