It's wicked to mock the afflicted

The rapture has already happened. While you and I slept, God opened the sky, put two fingers to his lips and gave a sharp whistle to call his flock home. There was one problem. Not one person was called up. That's not true. There was one guy named Tanek on a farm near Olsztyn, Poland. The only soul pure enough to immediately take his seat in the empty bleachers of heaven. His brother, Jakub, will come by to make his monthly visit. He'll set the groceries and the bottle of Vodka on the kitchen table. He'll call his brother's name. He'll search the house. He'll find his bed clothes tucked in beneath the covers. Phone calls will be made. The heads of officials will be scratched and the search will fail. Eventually, Jakub will mourn above an empty grave whose stone carries Tanek's name and dates. This will be the only hint of the rapture that occurred. Now, we are living on borrowed time. God has only to grab his celestial broom and sweep the rest of us under the rug. We are lucky he is a lazy deity. Lazy? Of course. He was a busy bee in the beginning. He knocked out the universe in a week. He took a day's rest and then he was right back on the clock. Four thousand years, God was banishing, smiting, and plaguing left and right. Two thousand years ago, he decided to delegate some work to his son and we all know how wrong that went. Lately, the most he can muster is teasing South American Catholics by making statues bleed or actually curing the child of a believer of faith-healing. Parlour tricks by omnipotent being standards. If our Lord was more proactive, we would have already been knee deep in molten sulphur. My guess is the big guy knows we are our own punishment. Eventually, our luck will run out and all this fooling around with Mutual Assured Destruction will finish the job he can be bothered to do himself. We'll go just like two teenage boys who let a knife fight go too far and fall into oblivion with nothing but a look of disbelief.