The Resonances of Revelation
(avg. read time: 6–12 mins.)
When I became a Christian, I think the first book of the Bible I read in its entirety was actually the Book of Revelation. That was the influence of Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins’s Left Behind series. Believe it or not, that is what brought me into the Church. As far apart as I have grown from many of the beliefs represented in that series, I still must acknowledge that it was by Left Behind that I found the path to Christ. Though later I may have been ashamed to have been scared into the arms of grace, the whole process from that starting point to now has helped deepen my awareness of how God’s redemptive power can work in everyday life. It also remains a fact that if not for LaHaye and his fellow popular dispensationalist authors, I might not have developed as strong an interest in eschatology as I have now, to the point where it is one of my primary research areas.
One thing that my subsequent transition in views taught me was that a lot of what passes for eschatology and eschatological debate often majors in the minors of biblical hope and argues over downright non-biblical portrayals of eschatological expectation. Nowhere is this clearer to me than in the treatment of Revelation. Revelation is the canonical culmination of a grand arc of hope, bringing together expectations for the future that have been iterated at many points by many authors over hundreds of years while pointing to the eschatological climax on the other side of repentance, persecution, wrath, perseverance, and judgment. While many focus on eschatological schematics, which involve describing a Great Tribulation (yes, with both capital letters), the timing of a rapture, what the three groups of seven judgments mean, and the timing of these various judgments (whether they are in the past, throughout history, or simply still to come), the fact remains that Revelation is all along directed towards more fundamental matters of eschatology. One of the major challenges in teaching and preaching Revelation in the Western world today is cutting through the Gordian knot of these divergent ideas to see into the heart of the book and what makes it beat.
Another major challenge is the reverse of the Western craze. Because of the complications that surround the details of Revelation, as well as the foolishness that often accompanies the interpretation of them, other teachers and preachers avoid it altogether (with the possible exception of chapters 2–3). In light of the fact that at least some of one’s congregation may either be embroiled or be familiar with said complications and foolishness, the avoidance may be understandable, though not acceptable. Furthermore, there is nothing in the NT quite like it and it comes across like the scary tunnel in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, to the point where one might wonder if it needs to be there at all.
But if Revelation is part of Scripture, then it too is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, reproof, correction, and training in righteousness so that everyone who belongs to God may be proficient and equipped for every good work. As part of Scripture, Revelation too is part of our central worldview story and its importance is undeniable because it is ultimately about the telos, the goal of that story. Now, it is true that the greatest minds in Church history have wrestled with Revelation and been conquered, so the many mysteries of it will not be going away anytime soon. Still, it will help us in preaching and teaching Revelation to get back to its basics, its central emphases, and its central characteristics. We must attend to these matters if we are to hear the resonances of Revelation reverberating in our own time and place.
First, it resonates today precisely because it is so different and testifies to a vision of reality that neither shies away from the ugliness of the current world order nor leaves the world without a confident hope. As apocalyptic literature—a genre that does not have much of an equivalent today—it expands the horizons of readers. Apocalypses aim to give us transcendent visions, peeks behind the scenes of readily visible reality to the otherworldly correspondences. In a nutshell, apocalypses like Revelation find ways to invest earthly events and personalities with the appropriate transcendent significance of some kind or another. One can obviously get carried away with such investment, but the point remains that Revelation opens our eyes to the transcendent dimension. All at once, it reminds us that there is always more to this world and what is happening in it than what we see, as well as that what we see has significance in the eyes of God (meaning that we should not be un-invested in what happens here). The importance of this transcendent element is powerfully manifested in Rev 4–5 with the descriptions of God and Jesus who, despite the condescension in revelation, will always be beyond our comprehension in some sense. The Jesus we know from his time on earth is enough of a challenge, but it is even more humbling when we have to wrestle with the ineffable descriptions of God and Jesus in Revelation. These descriptions of the transcendent reality and especially of Jesus, the Lamb who was slain and lives forever, contribute to the most basic thrust of the book: God is in control of the course of history, no matter how dark it may be now or may become, and God wins.
Second, one of the subtler ways John conveys this message is through one of the most pervasive features of the book: the constant use of and allusion to images, figures, and language from the OT. The entire book demonstrates a thoroughgoing intertwinement with the OT to a degree seen nowhere else in the NT, except for, perhaps, Hebrews. These multitudinous and deep connections entail that one cannot understand Revelation without knowledge of the OT, which is a principle that stands true for the NT in general. Revelation thus stands as a testament to the importance of the OT for the framework of Christian hope, for the foundation of the Christian story, and for the formation of Christian theology. At another implicit level, this extensive use of the OT evokes the record of God’s faithfulness, lovingkindness, and justice in the OT and the continuity of God’s exercise of these qualities in the story of Jesus and the Church in fulfillment of the OT.
Third, Revelation presents the role of judgment in eschatological hope more vividly than any other NT book. Once again, the tendencies of Christians can be to become too focused on judgment or to ignore it altogether. What is common to both tendencies is the impression that judgment is the contrast to the good news of the gospel. While this is understandable on the individual level, on the macro level judgment means the execution of God’s justice, the setting right of the world. It means that God’s will is done on earth as it is in heaven. It means the reconciliation of the world with its Creator because of the divine exclusion and embrace that constitutes the action of judgment. In a world turned upside down and enslaved to the forces of sin and death, how is the end of that world order in judgment not good news? Revelation portrays the evil of the present world more vividly and extravagantly than any other NT book in order to bring out the true depth of its darkness and ugliness. Only God could do anything final about such widespread and deeply rooted evil, and at every turn Revelation promises that God will do something by carrying out judgment on it. This message, as an aspect of God’s control of history, is as necessary to hear today as it has ever been. It is a reminder that God’s justice triumphs in the end. It is a reminder that for all empires, all powers of evil, all revolts against God, sooner or later, they all fall down (11:15).
Fourth, even if the onslaught of lurid, lavish, and lush visions might be overwhelming and disorienting to people who are not used to reading it, the imagery is at the service of speaking to situations that are ever-present challenges for the Church. Whether in an environment of persecution—which much of the Church across the world faces—or in an environment of accommodation and favor—which much of the Church in America faces to varying degrees—the temptation to assimilate remains active and the need to guide believers away from that temptation remains imperative. In such environments, people need both words of warning about where assimilation can lead and words of encouragement to hold fast in the midst of the tempest of temptation. Revelation offered precisely these services to the original audiences, and it continues to offer them today. If one goes through each of the situations of the seven churches in Rev 2–3, there will surely be points of contact with issues in churches today. Some churches are doing well in fighting against assimilation, but in some sense forsake their first love. Some churches face genuine persecution. Some churches find themselves in places where the urge to assimilate is at its strongest and some of them do succumb to one form of cultural idolatry or another. Some churches do good work for the kingdom but tolerate the presence and work of people who lead astray. Some churches depend on their reputation, but at some point they neglect to put substance to that reputation and sink into assimilation before they realize it. Some small, but faithful churches face discouragement. Some churches think of themselves more highly than they ought, judge themselves by superficialities, and begin losing sight of their need for and dependence upon God. Some churches have amalgamated versions of all of these issues and Revelation can speak directly to all of them.
Fifth, perhaps the greatest point of resonance that Revelation continues and always will continue to maintain is its message of hope. In a world constantly buffeted by disasters, crises, oppressions, and hardships of all kinds, the Christian message of hope will always be resonant. It is typical to encounter the impression of Revelation—mostly from people who have not actually read it or have not read it as a whole—that Revelation is some sort of dark, depressing book about the destruction of the world and the end of everything. However, Revelation hardly conforms to that image as hope permeates the landscape of the book and it is there at the climax when heaven and earth join together in the holiest of holy marriages, the kingdom finally comes on earth as it is in heaven, there is no more suffering, and God makes all of creation into his dwelling, in fulfillment of the initial creation in Gen 1. The instructions to the seven churches use eschatological hope to promote ethical conduct, the songs of praise throughout play to the tune of hope, and even the judgments are presented in the framework of hope as they are the functions of God vanquishing evil and anticipating his consummate victory over evil. People need to know this message of hope and to know that it is not wishful/fanciful thinking but is rather grounded in the absolute confidence one can have in God. God’s victory is assured, but as long as it is not yet accomplished, as long as it is hope that is not yet seen, it will be necessary to remember the message of hope and the down-payments God has given in Jesus and the Holy Spirit.
Sixth, another feature of eschatological hope that Revelation explicates more than any other is the expectation of new creation. Here is the logic of resurrection writ large on the cosmic scale (or is it that resurrection is the logic of new creation writ small on the individual scale?). The world’s corruption by sin and death is thorough, to the point that new life on the other side of death is needed to attain its true divinely intended glory. But it somehow has enough continuity with the original creation that it is still “numerically” identical to the original creation so that God’s act of new creation still functions as faithfulness, lovingkindness, and justice to the original creation. The visions of the new Jerusalem descending like a bride, the tree of life in that city, and the many details contained in the last two chapters convey this continuity and newness of God’s action in relation to the grand arc of salvation history.
Seventh and finally, Revelation is not as heavy on the ethical directives as most of the New Testament books that people find easier to read, but for the ethical dimensions it does have it provides an important framework for them in what I call “participatory victory.” Its ethical directives give ways for people to participate in Jesus’ victory over worldly and otherworldly evils. After all, the hope of Revelation is a hope with feet on the ground, an eschatology with ethics, and a narrative with personal involvement. The notes of participatory victory sounding throughout 1:5–6; 2:8, 10, 26–27; 3:4–5, 12, 21; 5:9–10; 12:11; 14:13; 15:2; 17:14; 20:4–6; 21:7 make clear that believers await the consummation of a victory in which they are already participating. Believers cannot bring about the victory of Christ; it belongs to him. But he allows us, through our identification with him, to participate in it. I see in such a framework an empowering context and drive for Christomorphic action and, thus, a highly resonant theme.