False Prophecies: The Recurring Phenomenon of Rapture Predictions

In the quiet streets of South Africa, Pastor Joshua Mhlakela recently made headlines with his confident declaration that the rapture would occur on September 23 or 24, 2023. “The Rapture is upon us,” he proclaimed with unwavering certainty. “Whether you are ready or not, the rapture in 14 days from now is going to take place.” His followers, convinced by his claims of a divine vision and hearing “literally in my ear the sound of the trumpet,” began selling their possessions and preparing for their ascension. Some expressed being “a billion percent sure” about this prediction. Yet, as the dates have passed without incident, Mhlakela’s prophecy joins a long lineage of failed rapture predictions that have punctuated modern Christian history.

The rapture concept, deeply embedded in evangelical Christian theology, represents the belief that Jesus will return to take true believers to Heaven before a period of tribulation engulfs the Earth. This narrative has proven remarkably resilient despite numerous failed predictions. Reverend Daniel Castelo, professor of theology at Duke University Divinity School, explains this persistence: “It’s not surprising that this happens, and folks oftentimes don’t have a long memory as to, ‘Well, this has happened before, what’s different now?’ It just bubbles up again.” Rapture predictions often emerge during periods of societal instability or perceived threats, offering believers what Castelo describes as “certain comfort that there’s an unfolding plan on God’s part” and reassurance that the faithful will be spared from the worst. These predictions provide a framework for understanding chaotic world events and offer hope of divine intervention in troubled times.

The digital age has dramatically accelerated and amplified the spread of rapture predictions. While previous generations might have encountered such theories through books or traditional media that required deliberate seeking, today’s interconnected world allows these ideas to proliferate instantly through platforms like TikTok. “All of us have our phones available for these theories or these ideas to be spread through TikTok, which has more immediacy,” Castelo notes. “Whatever trends happened in the past in relation to things like this, they are just exacerbated and magnified in a digital age like we’re living in right now.” This technological shift means that fringe beliefs can rapidly gain mainstream attention, creating temporary communities of believers united by the conviction that they possess special knowledge about the world’s imminent end.

The historical record of failed rapture predictions is extensive and spans nearly two centuries of documented cases. Perhaps the most significant early example occurred in 1844 with what became known as “The Great Disappointment.” William Miller, a Baptist preacher, calculated from the Book of Daniel that Christ would return on October 22, 1844. Tens of thousands of followers—called Millerites—sold their possessions and waited expectantly. When nothing happened, the crushing disappointment led many to question their faith, while others regrouped to form Adventist denominations. Similar patterns played out with Jehovah’s Witnesses founder Charles Taze Russell’s multiple failed predictions between 1874 and 1914, and his successor Joseph Franklin Rutherford’s subsequent revisions to 1918 and 1925. The pattern continued into the modern era with bestselling books like Hal Lindsey’s “The Late Great Planet Earth” (suggesting the rapture before 1988) and Edgar Whisenant’s “88 Reasons Why the Rapture Will Be in 1988,” which remarkably sold 4.5 million copies.

More recent failed predictions have capitalized on contemporary anxieties and phenomena. The approach of the millennium sparked Y2K rapture fears, with televangelists like Jerry Falwell suggesting computer failures might trigger global chaos and Christ’s return. Radio broadcaster Harold Camping famously predicted Judgment Day first on May 21, 2011, then revised it to October 21, 2011, after the initial date passed uneventfully. His followers pointed to earthquakes, same-sex marriage legislation, and Middle Eastern conflicts as evidence. The COVID-19 pandemic generated its own wave of rapture predictions, with some claiming the global health crisis represented the final sign before the end times. Other failed predictions have been tied to astronomical events, like preacher John Hagee’s “Blood Moon Tetrad” theory (2014-2015) and the “Revelation 12 Sign” alignment of stars (September 23, 2017)—interestingly occurring exactly six years before Mhlakela’s recent prediction.

Despite the consistent failure of these prophecies, the cycle continues unabated, raising important questions about faith, biblical interpretation, and the human need for meaning in uncertain times. Castelo offers a thoughtful perspective on how believers might respond to failed predictions: “My hope is that people will have some accountability for this. When it doesn’t happen then, well maybe their discernment practice, their way of thinking about these matters changes. It is both a disappointment but also maybe a test of faith when people truly believe something like this will happen and it doesn’t. Instead of abandoning the faith and assuming the faith is wrong, maybe they need to have a better discernment process and a better interpretive process in terms of the Bible and in terms of how they hear voices in the public.” His words suggest that these moments of failed prophecy might serve as opportunities for spiritual growth and more nuanced engagement with religious texts rather than reasons to abandon faith entirely. Meanwhile, as each prediction fails, new ones inevitably emerge, sustained by the eternal human desire to make sense of our world and our place within it.