I grew up in the Pentecostal church. I was raised to believe that one day the big J-Man would come for all the good little Christian boys and girls during the rapture and leave all the bad little heathenish behind to experience hell on earth for seven or so many years. I forget. As a precaution, we were told if, God forbid, we back slid into sin before the big day, that our souls weren't necessarily lost. Not as long as we refused to take the mark of the beast.
Ah, my Christian youth! A lot of the crap they preached from the pulpit scared the shit out of me, but one of the things I remember fondly were the nights they would skip the preaching and show movies like A Thief In The Night. It was cheesy movies like this one that got me hooked on all those zombie/apocalypse/end-of-the-world type movies and books. Oh, if only my pastor knew Mark IV productions led me onto the path of sin and agnosticism.
Instead of going out to see The Omen, I think I might rent Thief for old times sake. Bell bottoms and bible thumpers, here I come!