The Left Behind Complete Set, Series 1-12

by Tim LaHaye

“Regardless,” Tsion said, “Chloe is right.

That’s a first for these books

Much as I would love to humiliate him, it would be just too awkward.

“Surely, out of Christian charity, they would be cordial to the world ruler.”

If I could personally show you my texts, my arguments, I believe I could prove to you that Jesus Christ is the Messiah and that Nicolae Carpathia is his archenemy.

*pulls out phone, starts scrolling through old messages, but half of them are just him telling Chloe to shut up

“I have the energy and the enthusiasm tonight, Doctor. Please.”

I wonder how much erotica starts this way

“Nicolae wants me dead. He poisoned me. He can reach anywhere.” “How do you know, Hattie? How do you know he poisoned you?” “I knew he would.” Her voice was weak and thin. She gasped for air as she spoke. “He poisoned your friend Bruce Barnes.”

Hattie lay panting. “It was phony, Rayford. All of it.” “Amanda?” She nodded and tried to sit up but needed Rayford’s help. “The e-mails were bogus, Rayford. I was trained to do it. I saw it all.”

So, Amanda was good, actually, and just as boring as she seemed. She stuck around for a single book, standing in the corner, then died in a plane crash.

Rayford was drained. Tears welled up from so deep inside that he felt as if his heart and lungs would burst. “She was all I believed she was?” he said. Hattie nodded. “She was more, Rayford. She loved you deeply, was totally devoted to you.

So the reason he had not seen the seal of God on Amanda’s forehead, besides her grotesque and discolored death mask, was that the plane had gone down before the mark appeared on any believers. Rayford’s faith in Amanda had been restored, and he had never doubted her salvation. Even when he had been forced to wonder about how she had come to him in the first place, he never questioned the genuineness of her devotion to God.

This is gross. Her only value is in fealty. And Jenkins takes every chance he gets to describe a corpse.

tens of thousands of new brothers and sisters in Christ from all twelve tribes of Israel

I wonder if anyone ever corrected the authors on the whole lost tribes thing after the first books came out, but they had committed so hard to doing all 12 tribes that it would just be embarrassing to renege on it

Buck had never seen—even in New York—traffic like this. Every artery to the stadium was jammed with cars and pedestrians. Neither had he seen so many happy faces since before the Rapture. Carrying satchels and notebooks and water bottles, the pedestrians hurried along with earnest and determined looks. Many made better time than the cars and vans and buses.

As Jacov led the angry GC drivers to the stadium, it quickly became obvious that many more than twenty-five thousand hoped to get in.

Hard to eyeball, but I trust these characters logistics skills

On his knees next to Chloe, Buck felt her strong grip. She laid her head on his shoulder. “Oh, Buck,” she said, “this is like heaven.”

“What are they saying?” Buck said. “‘Hallelujah,’ and ‘Praise the Lord,’” someone said. “And they’re spelling out the name of Jesus.”

I can’t help but imagining cheerleaders doing a whole routine. “Give me a J!” “J!” “Now give me an E!” and so on

“As you know,

People in the room nodded solemnly, and many looked at their watches.

“All these people are our brothers and sisters,” he told Chloe.

Chloe doesn’t snap at Buck for patronizing her enough

Daniel raised his hands, and the room fell silent. “Follow me down this corridor, up the ramp, then up the stairs to the stage. You can watch from the wings, but translators go first and get into position at ground level in front of the platform. No one on the stage but Dr. Ben-Judah and me.

I hope in the last book, they get to Heaven, and it’s just three whole chapters of God giving the angels and Christians logistics on their new lodging arrangements and eternal schedules. Travel logistics all the way to the top.

As the crowd continued to exult, Daniel stepped to the front of the stage and beckoned the translators to gather before him. “You’re not needed!” he said, smiling. As they dispersed, looking surprised but pleased, he went back to the microphone.

We are about to hear from our beloved rabbi, and our prayer is that you would supernaturally quicken our hearts and minds to absorb every jot and tittle of what you have given him to say.

“jot and tittle”

Buck could not sing. “Amazing Grace” had become his favorite hymn, a poignant picture of his faith. But twenty-five thousand believers singing it from their hearts nearly knocked him over. The mass outside added their voices. Buck and Chloe stood weeping at the beauty of it.

Tsion then outlined the same evidence he had used on the controversial television broadcast that had made him a fugitive, proving from the Old Testament that Jesus was the Messiah.

Tsion walked through God’s plan of redemption from the beginning of time, showing that Jesus was sent as the spotless lamb, a sacrifice to take away the sins of the world. He explained the truths that had so recently become clear to these initiates, that man is born in sin and that nothing he can do for himself can reconcile him to God. Only by believing and trusting in the work Christ did for him on the cross can he be born again spiritually into eternal life. “In John 14:6,” Tsion said, his voice rising for the first time, “Jesus himself said he was the way, the truth, and the life, and that no man can come to the Father except through him. This is our message to the nations. This is our message to the desperate, the sick, the terrified, the bound. By now there should be no doubt in anyone’s mind—even those who have chosen to live in opposition to God—that he is real and that a person is either for him or against him. We of all people should have the boldness of Christ to aggressively tell the world of its only hope in him.

We’ve entered the mandatory sermons section of each book — at least this one is nice and early

Before you fall asleep tonight, read Revelation 7 and thrill with me to the description of the harvest you and I have been called to reap.

We’re past that now, Soul Harvest was the previous book

“John was asked by one of the elders at the throne, ‘Who are these arrayed in white robes, and where did they come from?’ And John said, ‘Sir, you know.’

John was always the sassy one

and here Tsion spoke so softly, so tenderly that he had to be right on the microphone, and people edged forward to hear,

A faint rumble in the sky became a persistent thwock-thwock-thwock that drowned out Tsion as a gleaming white helicopter drew every eye. The crowd stared as the chopper, with GC emblazoned on the side, slowly descended, its massive blades whipping Tsion’s hair and clothes until he was forced to back away from the lectern.

“Translators!” someone shouted. “We need interpreters!” Fortunato looked expectantly at Tsion, who continued staring straight ahead. “Dr. Ben-Judah,” Fortunato implored, “is there someone who can translate? Whom are you using?” Tsion did not look at him.

Even God treats Fortunato as the but of passive-aggressive pranks. How are we, the readers, supposed to take him seriously as a threat when every scene he’s in is just him getting dunked on?

Fortunato swept grandly back, beckoning to the helicopter, from which emerged the comical figure of the man Buck knew as Peter Mathews, former archbishop of Cincinnati.

Mathews had somehow emerged from the helicopter with style, despite being decked out in the most elaborate clerical garb Buck had ever seen.

Whatever he’s wearing, I know Moira Rose could pull it off

He wore a high, peaked cap with an infinity symbol on the front and a floor-length, iridescent yellow robe with a long train and billowy sleeves. His vestments were bedecked with huge, inlaid, brightly colored stones and appointed with tassels, woven cords, and bright blue, crushed velvet stripes, six on each sleeve, as if he had earned some sort of a double doctorate from Black Light Discotheque University. Buck covered his mouth to stifle a laugh. When Mathews turned around, he revealed astrological signs on the train of his robe.

“It was red and yellow and green and brown and scarlet and black and ochre and peach and...”

“I confer upon this gathering the blessings of the universal father and mother and animal deities who lovingly guide us on our path to true spirituality.

It’s very funny what LaHaye thinks new age religions are like

our coat of many colors.

“...and BLUE!”

“Listen, can you walk me through hooking my laptop to a TV so we can see this meeting easier?” David laughed. “Next you’ll tell me your microdisc player is blinking twelve o’clock all day and night.” “How’d you know?” “Just a lucky guess.”

If all’s fair in love and war, it might make sense for us to appropriate enemy equipment.”

And to seduce them, while you’re at it. Rayford’s newly single — again.

Hattie lay rocking and groaning. She refused food or medication, so Rayford merely covered her.

Lol, like she’s an ugly piece of furniture

The doctor expressed alarm when he saw Hattie. “How long has she been this way?” “About an hour,” Ken said. “Should we have woken you?” The doctor shrugged. “I’m shooting in the dark, experimenting with antidotes for a poison that hasn’t been identified. She rallies and I get encouraged, and then she reverts to this.” He medicated her and fed her, and she slept quietly.

Rayford was moved to tears by the broadcast from Israel, but the men laughing at Peter Mathews’s apparel awoke Hattie. She slowly and apparently painfully pushed herself up onto her elbows to watch.

More pain for Hattie. Also, even though we just saw the entire scene play out, we still have the pleasure of watching the other half of the cast observe it on the TV. Just when I thought we were finally safe, because POV characters were correctly positioned...

Now listen, your son-in-law and daughter—is he a good-looking kid, early thirties, and she a cute blonde?”

“Mac, let me tell you what Hattie told me about—” “I’ve only got a second here, Ray. Let me call Buck. Will he have his phone on him, the one with the number you gave me?” “He should, but Mac—” “I’ll check back with you, Ray.”

Somebody needs to introduce these characters to the concept of a three-way call

Carpathia’s eloquence reverberated.

Same

Jacov held his hand out, palm down, to show Buck that he was trembling. Buck offered Jacov his bottle of water. “What are you afraid of?” “God,” Jacov said, smiling self-consciously and declining the bottle.

I’m picturing a vibrating man, nervously smiling and declining a water bottle, and I can’t not laugh

“You know Dr. Ben-Judah is not a friend of his.” “That is clear. He has been received most coldly.” “Appropriately so, Jacov. He is an enemy of God.”

He fell silent as Carpathia’s liquid tones filled the air. “And so, my beloved friends, it is not a requirement that your sect align itself with the One World Faith for you to remain citizens of the Global Community. Within reasonable limits, there is room for dissent and alternative approaches. But consider with me for a moment the advantages and privileges and benefits that have resulted from the uniting of every nation into one global village.”

All the liquid tones of a terms of service agreement

Buck shook his head. All this merely ushered in the superstructure necessary for Nicolae to rule the world until the time came to declare himself God.

Yeah, we picked up on that like three books ago, but thanks for the reminder

Jacov stared ahead, gripping the wheel tightly, his arms shaking. He nodded, but he looked conflicted. Buck no longer cared about rudeness. He would talk over Nicolae; he would not allow the enemy to steal this soul through slick talking.

Carpathia seemed to be wrapping up his remarks, but something was strange about his voice. Buck had never heard him struggle to speak, but he had grown hoarse. Carpathia turned away from the mike, covered his mouth, and attempted to clear his throat. “Pardon me,” he said, his voice still raspy. “But I wish you and the rabbi here all the best and welcome you, ahem, ahem, once again, excuse me—”

Oh no, I’ve seen this before! There is a phantom somewhere in the stadium, and he must be angry that box five was not left empty. Everybody, watch for falling chandeliers and keep your hand at the level of your eyes!

But when he drank, he gagged and spit the water out. His lips and chin were covered in blood, and he held the bottle at arm’s length, staring at it in horror. Jacov jumped from the car and moved closer to the monitor. Buck knew why. Even at that distance, it was obvious the bottle contained blood.

Buck knew the witnesses had turned only Nicolae’s water to blood and that they had likely caused him to need the drink in the first place.

Huh, Moses and Elijah must be fans of Carrie

The bottle in Buck’s pocket suddenly felt cold. He pulled it out and felt the sting of frigidity in his palm. He twisted off the top and drank deeply. Icy, smooth, rich, thirst-quenching nectar cascaded down his throat. He moaned, not wanting to pull the bottle from his lips but needing to catch his breath. All around he heard the sighs of satisfied believers, sharing cold, refreshing bottles. “Taste this, Jacov!” Buck said, wiping off the top and handing it to him. “It’s very cold.”

Hahaha, this is one of the weirdest miracles