For ten years, Tyndale House Publishers rode the Left Behind train to literary and financial success, but all that seemed like it was coming to an end with the twelfth and final novel in the series. Glorious Appearing spent 22 weeks on the NYT bestseller’s list, selling millions. Having almost quite literally reached the end of time (in a sense), the series couldn’t go much further forward (eventually doing so in a sequel called Kingdom Come), Jerry Jenkins and Tim LaHaye decided to go back to the beginning—before the beginning—and piece together the events that led to the rise of Nicolae Carpathia as Antichrist.
There’s a lot that could be said about the series as a whole and its assumption of a dispensational, premillennial, pretribulational eschatology. There’s even more than could be said about the cultural zeitgeist that led to the success of these novels from a sales standpoint. And there’s even more that could be said about their affect on Christian evangelical culture over the past generation. But for now, let’s just stick to the realm of fiction to see if these stories—as fiction—are any good.
The Rising is the first in prequel trilogy (The Regime, The Rapture) that primarily follows the storyline of a young Nicolae Carpathia. Carpathia, as readers of the series know, is the president of Romania turned secretary-general of the United Nations turns Antichrist ruler of the world. Throughout the series, we are given only a few hints about his past. This left readers wanting to know more. What would the rise of Antichrist look like?
At first, we’re taken into the story of Marilena, a young woman who falls in love with and marries a scholar’s scholar named Sorin Carpathia. The couple’s marriage is virtually perfunctory, a convenience. They enjoy the other’s company and intellectual stimulation, but that’s about it. Soon, Marilena begins to have an overwhelming desire to have a child—something that Sorin is vehemently against. It soon comes to light that Sorin is gay and he leaves Marilena for a male colleague. She then takes solace in the spiritual world, befriending a Luciferian named Viv Ivins who claims that loyalty to her god will ensure Marilena a child. Marilena takes the bait and Ivins arranges, through secretive connections, for a sperm donor. Marilena becomes pregnant and soon, Nicolae is born.
Meanwhile, in Chicago, a young Rayford Steele is up to typical kid things. One of the issues with this novel structurally is that there are two storylines. In one storyline, we get adventures like Ray’s mom taking too long in a store and him not being able to find her. In another, we get international cabals, secret organizations, and demonic influences. It’s a jarring twist that only makes any sense because these novels aren’t intended to tell their own stories but provide extended backstory for the story we already know. The Rising should have just focused on Nicolae. It would have provided a much more even reading experience.
However, I don’t know that I could have stood much more depth to the Nicolae storyline. My chief complaint is theological. The Rising presents Yahweh and Lucifer in very dualistic terms. Viv Ivins tells Marilena that her religion views Lucifer, not Yahweh, as the rightful god. Marilena’s conception is seen as an imitation of the immaculate conception. Later, Carpathia is literally taken out into the desert by his spirit guide—Lucifer—and tempted for forty days in the wilderness. In a direct comparison and contrast to Jesus, he is offered the same three things as Jesus and takes them all. LaHaye and Jenkins have made a conscious choice for anti- to mean “false pretender” and not “against.” This sets up a very easy comparison and contrast in the minds of readers, but also presents Carpathia and Christ as equals. This isn’t compatible with the theology of the rest of the series, but it’s the path clearly presented here. Antichrist is Christ if Christ made different decisions. That sort of dualism, where Yahweh and Lucifer are presented as competing spiritual entities, is a dangerous philosophy—probably one that the authors did not intend.
There’s also a cultural component to the Nicolae storyline in that LaHaye and Jenkins try to cram in any number of social critiques, some of which are laughably inept. One of the most egregious is that Nicolae’s father is revealed to actually be two men, the result of genetically modified sperm. Those two men are Sorin (his mother’s husband) and his husband, who were paid handsomely for their contribution. There’s even evidence that Marilena’s whole marriage to Sorin was an orchestrated sham to lead her toward Viv Ivins and Luciferianism. Given LaHaye’s vehemently anti-LGBT stance (he once wrote a book called The Unhappy Gays), having the father of the Antichrist be two dads who sperm was genetically modified by science is a bit on the nose.
By the end of the novel, Carpathia has grown from a baby to a psychopathic young man who has had his mother and both of his fathers killed and has become a multi-millionaire businessman financed by the Jeff Bezos (or Elon Musk, if you wish) of this book, Jonathan Stonagal. Ray has grown up, married Irene, and had two kids, but their lives are about to take a drastic change when Irene becomes a believer.
The Rising is not a good novel. Social and theological commentary aside, the story does not cohere and does not stand on its own. It’s a vapid, stereotypical, fearmongering piece of propaganda—even more so than the original novels. The original series is heavy-handed in its Christianity and exacting in its eschatology, but the storytelling had elements of brilliance. There’s none of that here. Left Behind fatigue is real and Jenkins, as primary author, seems to have just been going through the motions.