Archive for the ‘Revelation’ Category
What to Expect When You Write about Revelation
As you know, I recently completed a Daily Word series on Revelation. Here’s one of the replies I received from an unknown correspondent:
Sir:
In an attempt to prevent people from being distracted from the Truth, as well as a full-scale military confrontation between the United States/Israel and Iran, I suggest that you remove the information about the Revelation of John from your website and replace it with a link to:Thanks,Michael (Daniel 12:1, Sura 2:98 of the Koran, Column XVII of the Scroll of the War of the Sons of Light)
Make of it what you will.
“Surely, I Am Coming Soon” (Revelation 22.6–21)
At long last, we come to the end of John’s Apocalypse.
Let us take a moment to review:
In chapters 1–3, John gave us a picture of Jesus Christ in glory, writing letters to the seven churches of Roman Asia, calling them to courage and steadfastness in their practice of faith. Revelation 4.1–8.5 portrayed Christ as the slain Lamb worthy to break the seven seals and so reveal the divinely ordered course of history. In 8.6–11.19, seven angelic trumpet blasts herald the beginning of the New Age in which “the kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever.”
Chapters 12–14 narrate the age-long conflict between “a woman, clothed with the sun” (the Church), “a great red dragon” (the devil) and his beastly minions (the Antichrist and False Prophet), and the woman’s child, “one who is to rule all the nations with a rod of iron” (Jesus Christ). Although the war between them was fierce, its outcome was never in doubt—Christ and the church win. Chapters 15–16 portray God’s unfolding judgment as the pouring out of seven bowls of wrath, culminating in the destruction of Babylon, that is, the world organized in opposition to God. Babylon’s destruction, the defeat of Satan, and the establishment of God’s Peaceful Kingdom in the New Heaven and New Earth are the central themes of 18.1–22.5.
Through these chapters, John has been communicating a single message: The certain end of history is the kingdom of God, so pluck up your courage and remain faithful to Jesus Christ. As Martin Luther so eloquently put it, “He must win the battle.” We live between the time of Christ’s first coming and his second coming. At his first coming, Jesus Christ offered all humanity the grace of a second chance to repent and get right with God. At his second coming, Christ will affirm each of our choices, either confirming us in our badness or renewing us in his goodness.
But, as Tom Petty sings, “the waiting is the hardest part.” We live between the times. We have Christ’s promise, “Surely I am coming soon!” And as we suffer along with the suffering world, we pray, “Amen. Come Lord Jesus!” Notice that the “Amen” we offer affirms Christ’s promise to return, not our invitation to him to do so. It is our way of affirming the truthfulness of his promise. He will come indeed. All we must do is wait.
At the end of the day, the life of the Christian is one of patient trust, that God will accomplish what he has promised at just the right time, which is rarely when we expect it. And it is a life of hopeful optimism, based not on an assertion that the world is getting better and better but that God will make all things new. And finally, it is a life of perseverance, of sticking with God when the circumstances are bad and the good side seems to be losing.
At the end of the day, it takes courage to be a Christian. So be brave and stick it out: Christ is coming soon.
“The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all. Amen.”
The Healing of the Nations (Revelation 22.1–6)
Several years ago, I presided over the funeral of a twenty-six-year-old mother to five who had died suddenly and unexpectedly the week before, perhaps of a brain aneurysm. Her oldest stepdaughter was fourteen, her youngest son almost two. Ten years earlier, that same woman’s mother and father had died within one month of each other, leaving her and her two brothers orphans. The tragedy of the mother had become the tragedy of the daughter too.
The world is not supposed to work that way, but it does. Parents are not supposed to die before their children, but they do. Sons and daughters are not meant to grow up as orphans, but there are orphans nonetheless.
The world lies under a curse.
Revelation 22.1–6 speaks of “the river of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city,” that is, the New Jerusalem. “On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month.” With these words, John is making a point, namely, that the New Jerusalem is the old Eden, better, however, because purified.
In the opening chapters of Genesis, God planted Eden as a garden in the midst of the wild world, a fit habitation for Adam and Eve. Every blessing was present there, but Adam and Eve rejected what God had offered them in order to grasp after what God had forbidden them. Ever since, we have been denied access to the tree of life.
The world lies under a curse of death.
But God offers us life. Notice that the river flows “from the throne of God and of the Lamb.” God is the source of life. To believe in God and Christ is to experience life in eternity, even if we die for a moment. And notice this: “the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be any curse.”
The world lies under a curse of death, but it need not.
Revelation 22.1–6 speaks of the life of the Spirit in terms of humanity’s basic needs for food, water, shelter, light, and warmth. And it portrays salvation as the healing of a deep wound. As I have reflected that funeral four years ago, I have been reminded of several truths that I too often ignore: Life can wound you. It will leave scars on you that cannot be healed in a lifetime. But all things can be healed in eternity if we place our lives in the hands of a Master Surgeon today.
Someday, the world’s tragic pain will give way to triumphant praise.
The New Jerusalem (Revelation 21.9–27)
I have traveled to Israel six or seven times. The first time was the summer of 1982 when I lived with thirty other teenagers in Beit Jala, on the West Bank, building a “chicken coop” for a Christian school. The coop—or “poultry operations building” as we jokingly called it—would house several thousand chickens and provide a steady stream of income to the school.
On the weekends, we got to go into town, which normally meant Bethlehem—the closest large city—but often meant Jerusalem. Several of us would pile on a public bus to make the hour-long trek to Arab East Jerusalem, within walking distance of the massive Damascus Gate. I fell in love with Jerusalem the first time I saw it and spent much of my free time exploring its narrow streets and alleys. On my trip to Israel in January 1997, I peeled off from the tour group to spend some time alone and discovered—to my amazement—that I still knew my way around the city.
Revelation 21 speaks of “the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God.” Verses 9–27 describe its gates and foundations; its height, width, and depth; the precious materials that went into its making; and its inhabitants. It is a city like no other. For one thing, it is a perfect cube: approximately 1,400 miles high, wide, and deep. Its twelve gates each are made of a single pearl, and its streets are paved with gold.
Now, obviously, John is speaking symbolically here. How do I know this? Because John tells us so. The angel who shows John the new Jerusalem tells him, “Come, I will show you the bride, the wife of the Lamb.” The city, in other words, is not a literal city, and not even a literal bride, but rather—literally—the church. What John sees is the church of Jesus Christ, the community of people who have put their faith in the God of Jesus Christ and received salvation as a gift. What, then, do John’s elaborate descriptions of the city tell us about the church?
First, it exists by the grace of God. It descends from heaven as a gift (verse 2). It cannot be built by human hands but only by a divine builder. That is why it shines with “the glory of God.” It is the work of his hands.
Second, it is built on and controlled by the revelation of God. Verses 13–14 describe its gates and foundations. On the former are written the name of the twelve tribes, representing the covenant God made with Israel, a covenant recorded and celebrated in the Old Testament. On the latter are written the name of the twelve apostles, representing the new covenant established through Jesus Christ with all people, which of course is recorded and celebrated in the New Testament. There is no church without the Word of God, without the whole of Scripture.
Third, it is beautiful (verses 18–21). John uses precious stones and metals to describe the church because those are earthly things that have connotations of beauty and value. To God, the church is beautiful, because he has blessed it with every spiritual blessing in Jesus Christ.
Fourth, God is present. The most important thing about the church is that God is present among his people. “I did not see a temple in the city, because the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple” (verse 22). We often speak about having a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. In eternity, we will have that kind of relationship in all its fullness.
Grace, revelation, beauty, and divine presence: These words describe the church in eternity. To what extent do they describe the churches you and I worship in today? Let us pray—and work—for such churches here and now.
Newness and No-more-ness (Revelation 21.1–8)
For some time now, as we studied Revelation together, we have been reading seemingly endless scenes of judgment, of both the earthly and hellish variety. How many times has John spoken of war? How many times of drought, famine, pestilence, and plague? How many times has he mentioned the persecution of the saints and the final destruction of their enemies? Revelation 6–20 deals out dead and judgment in copious amounts and scrupulous detail.
And suddenly it is over.
With the simple turning of a page, John opens our eyes to new and glorious things: a new Jerusalem, a new heaven, a new earth. Revelation 6–20 informs us of what Jesus Christ saves us from. But Revelation 21–22 shows us what he saves us for.
To that we now turn.
Newness and No-more-ness (Revelation 21.1–8)
How do you describe eternity? What words can you use to portray a reality that none of us, save Jesus Christ, has fully experienced? Well, first, you have to rely on revelation. Someone who knows the unknown has to reveal it to you, in this case, a prophetic word from God through John to us. And second, you have to describe the unknown by means of comparison and contrast with the known.
So, in his vision (Rev. 21:1-8), John tells us to look at the current state of things, at the heavens and the earth, and at the human experiences encompassed by them. We can get an easy grasp on these topics; they are ones we know well, for they describe our own lives. Then John tells us to think about these things in terms of newness (comparison) and no-more-ness (contrast).
Newness: Four years ago, I purchased a new car, a Honda Element. It had that bright, shiny, never-been-used look to it. The silver paint glowed, the engine was clean as a whistle, and the interior had that new car smell that is such a delight to breathe in. Have you ever been out hiking or camping and come to some spot on the trail that is absolutely pristine? Untouched by human hands? Just the way God made it? That, John tells us, is what eternity is like. It is a perpetually new thing, a pristine creation, a new heaven and earth. Think of the joy you had as a kid when you unwrapped a new toy at Christmas and you will understand—if only slightly—the unending joy of eternity.
No-more-ness: John also contrasts eternity with our present experience on earth. Notice the things that, according to John, no longer exist in eternity. The “sea was no more.” When John received his vision, he was on the Isle of Patmos, separated by an ocean from his beloved churches in Asia Minor. In eternity, John tells us, there will no longer be such separation. And “death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore.” Death and its attendant emotions are part and parcel of life in this present age, but they disappear in eternity, for—in what may be the most beautiful image in Scripture—God “shall wipe away every tear from their eyes.” And, finally, there will no longer be anyone who opposes God and so wreaks havoc on his good creation. John lists a number of types of sinners who have no foothold in eternity, beginning with cowards and ending with liars. In Genesis 3, Adam and Eve listened to the serpent’s lie because they did not have the courage to resist him. At the end of the Bible, as in eternity, cowardice and dishonesty simply melt away.
This newness and no-more-ness is the direct work of God. It is what he alone can do. “Behold,” he says, “I am making all things new!” And that work of making all things new can begin in your life today. As Paul writes, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Corinthians 5.17).
Are you asking God to do a new thing in your life today?
The Great White Throne Judgment (Revelation 20.11–15)
I have served on three juries over the past few years, one of which heard a civil case, the other two criminal cases. It is difficult to sit in judgment on a fellow human being, to make decisions about actions that may affect his or her freedom. In one of the criminal cases—the defendant was accused of possessing methamphetamine with the intent to sell it—we found the man guilty. Although I do not know what the man’s sentence was, I assume it involved jail time.
That man’s case was interesting. He was an older man, an artist, who had fallen on hard times late in life. He seemed nice enough, not a hardened criminal or anything. And yet, when the police searched his car, they found a not inconsiderable amount of drugs hidden in it. The defense tried to argue that the drugs had been planted, but that excuse fell apart on cross-examination. The man had simply made a very bad choice and been caught in it. He broke the law, and we found him guilty.
It took several hours for us to do so, however. There were many pieces of evidence: witnesses whose memories of that day’s events did not agree on every detail, background information that had to be sifted through. And we did not want to dispose of this man’s case without having done our level best to ascertain the truth of the matter and reach a just verdict. Our deliberations were, therefore, deliberate, hard even; we held a man’s life in our hands.
Revelation 20 concludes with a description of the great white throne judgment at which “the dead were judged according to what they had done as recorded in the books.” The Judge in this case is no fallible group of twelve ordinary human beings. Nor is the evidence ambiguous or contradictory. As John portrays it, all our actions written in God’s books, which he reads as he prepares to hand down judgment. The consequences of that judgment are stark: Heaven for the innocent, Hell for the guilty. But—and this is crucial—we can choose what our verdict will be. John mentions twice that the dead according to “what they had done,” or more individually, “what he had done.” What you do—your intentions, choices, and actions—determine where you go. Guilt or innocence is in your hands.
C. S. Lewis once wrote, “There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, ‘Thy will be done,’ and those to whom God says, in the end, ‘Thy will be done.’ All that are in Hell, choose it. Without that self-choice there could be no Hell. No soul that seriously and constantly desires joy will ever miss it. Those who seek find. To those who knock it is opened.”
So, what do you choose? Your eternal destiny depends on your answer to that question.
The Millennium, Part 2 (Revelation 20.1–10)
Yesterday, I promised to talk about guidelines for the proper interpretation of Revelation 20.1–10. Well, I lied. Or rather—to be a bit more charitable to myself—I bit off more than I could chew. Way more. If premillennial, postmillennial, and amillennial scholars cannot agree amongst themselves after writing thousands of pages on the topic, who am I to think I can settle the debate in a 500-odd-word email?
Of course, on first glance, the proper interpretation seems obvious, right? Premillennialism is the most literal interpretation of the passage, the one that reads it with the most common sense and fewest theological add-ons. That, indeed, is the strength of the premillennial position. Its great weakness, however, is that it is hard to square with the rest of what the New Testament teaches about Christ’s Second Coming. In his recent book, The Promise of the Future, Cornelis P. Venema writes that “the usual presentation of the return of the Christ in the Scriptures, and in a number of different passages, is that it is a consummating event at the close of the age.” He offers several lines of supporting evidence:
· “Christ’s coming will be a visible public event that will bring about the salvation of the people of God and the realization of the kingdom of God in fullness” (Matt. 24.27, 33; Luke 17. 24; 21.27–28, 31).
· “When Christ is revealed from heaven, he will bring rest immediately and simultaneously for his beleaguered church and eternal punishment upon the unbelieving and impenitent” (2 Thes. 1.6–10).
· “In the New Testament, descriptions of the believer’s expectation for the future, the common thread is a focus upon the return of Christ as the event that brings the fullness of salvation, beyond which there is nor further event that will surpass it in redemptive significance” (1 Cor. 1.7; Phil. 1.6, 10; 1 John 2.28; 1 Tim. 4.8; 2 Tim. 4.1).
· “Christ’s return will introduce the final state of new heavens and a new earth” (2 Pet. 3.13; Rom 8.17–25).
· “When Christ returns, a rapture of the living and the dead leads to the resurrection transformation of all believers and their uninterrupted and undisturbed communion with the Lord from that day forward” (1 Thes. 4.13–18).
· “Finally, the resurrections of the just and the unjust will coincide” (Dan. 12.2; John 5.28–29; Acts 24.14–15; Rev. 20.11–15).
In other words, when Christ returns, everything changes. That is the general teaching of the New Testament. It is hard to square Revelation 20.1–10 with this general teaching. So, we might say, postmillennialism and amillennialism make better sense of the whole teaching of Scripture than does premillennialism.
So that is where, for me, the debate lies. Premillennialism makes better sense of Revelation 20.1–10 considered all by itself, but postmillennialism and amillennialism make better sense of the passage when considered in light of the rest of the New Testament.
But it seems to me that we can further than merely pointing out the parameters of the millennial debate and explaining why it is so intractable. The purpose of Scripture is to transform, not merely inform. Or rather, its purpose is to inform us of what we need in order to experience a transformed life. How, then, does Revelation 20.1–10 help us do that? How does it help us become better Christians?
By infusing us with hope. In Revelation 19.11–21 and 20.1–10, first the Antichrist and False Prophet, then the Devil himself, gins up an army to fight against Jesus Christ. In both cases, there is a battle that results in the utter destruction of the enemy forces with nary a nick or scratch on the body of even the tiniest saint. John uses martial language and battlefield imagery to communicate a single point: It is impossible to fight with God. Through Jesus Christ, God will accomplish his purposes in the world. There may be questions about the timing of that accomplishment but not its factuality, about the when but not about the whether. Writing to the beleaguered first-century Christians of Asia Minor, John offered an incomparable word of hope: The battle is already over, God has already won, so persevere to taste the fruit of victory.
That message is one we all need to hear. For sometimes, in our post 9/11 world, we are tempted to think that evil is getting the upper hand. It only seems that way, however. Even in the midst of our terror-ridden times, God is in control, taking his church where it needs to go on its march toward heaven.
As for the devil? I like to keep in mind Martin Luther’s poetic words: “The Prince of darkness grim / we tremble not for him. / His rage we can endure / for, Lo!, his doom is sure. / One little word shall fell him.”
Indeed, and amen!
The Millennium, Part 1 (Revelation 20.1–10)
Revelation 20.1–10 describes the events surrounding the Millennium, or thousand-year reign of Jesus Christ with his saints. John’s description seems straightforward enough: After an angel binds Satan in the bottomless pit, Christ rules the world for a thousand years with Christian martyrs whom he has resurrected to life. At the end of the millennial period, Satan is released and gathers armies to make war against Christ’s “beloved city” but is defeated and thrown into hell along with the Antichrist and False Prophet.
As I said, this description seems straightforward enough, but Christian theologians have never fully agreed on the proper interpretation of this passage. Broadly speaking, they have staked out three interpretive claims on Revelation 20.1–10: premillennialism, postmillennialism, and amillennialism. Let us take a brief look at all three.
Premillennialism reads Revelation 20.1–10 in the most literal fashion. It teaches that Jesus Christ returns to an earth under the sway of the Antichrist, defeats him and his armies in open battle, binds Satan for a thousand years, and establishes a peaceful worldwide kingdom with its capital city in Jerusalem. At the end of that period, open warfare again breaks out with the devil and his minions who are defeated a second time, but now thrown into hell. This is the best-known millennial viewpoint in America today, whose most prolific advocate is Tim LaHaye, co-author of the Left Behind series.
Postmillennialism reads Revelation 20.1–10 less literally than premillennialism. It teaches that the Millennium represents the entire church age between Christ’s first and second advents. The binding of Satan and the millennial reign of peace occur as more and more people of the earth hear the gospel, repent of their sins, and acknowledge Jesus Christ as Lord of their lives. Verses 7–10 describe the final death gasp of Satan and his minions at Christ’s Second Coming, which utterly defeats them and breaks entirely their power over God’s creation. Postmillennialists are optimistic about the progress of history. As the gospel spreads, the world becomes better and better under its influence.
Amillennialism (i.e., “no-millennium-ism”) reads Revelation 20.1–10 symbolically. In the words of Steve Gregg, the Millennium “depicts either the vindicated martyrs reigning from heaven in the present age, or earthly believers achieving spiritual victory over personal sin during the same period.” As with postmillennialism, then, amillennialism interprets Revelation 20.1–10 as a description of the entire church age between Christ’s first and second advents. Although premillennialism is the best-known millennial position in contemporary America, amillennialism was (and is) the official doctrinal position of the Catholic Church and of the magisterial Reformation churches (Lutheran, Reformed, and Anglican).
Now, I know what you are thinking: “George, what possible relevance does this debate have for my life?” Well, I can think of at least three answers to that question: (1) The debate is relevant because it concerns the proper way to interpret Scripture generally and Revelation particularly, i.e., whether we interpret it literally or symbolically. (2) The debate is relevant because it shapes our attitude toward the future. Is the future going to be worse than the present (premillennialism) or better than the past (premillennialism)? (3) The debate is relevant because it touches on our social responsibilities in the present age. Postmillennialists and amillennialists have always taught that Christians have a responsibility to reform society by engaging culture at all levels. Premillennialists, however, at least historically, have favored personal evangelism over social concern. “Why polish the brass on a sinking ship?” is how one premillennialist put it.
So, what is the proper interpretation of Revelation 20.1–10? I will try to offer some guidelines for answering that question in tomorrow’s devotional.
The Jesus We Never Knew (Revelation 19.11–21)
Several years ago, Philip Yancey wrote a book called, The Jesus I Never Knew. By reading the Gospel with fresh eyes, Yancey saw—and helped his readers to see—Jesus as his contemporaries saw him, not as modern people so often imagine him. As Yancey told it, Jesus was not a person who could be packaged in any conventional religious box. Indeed, the primary targets of his righteous indignation were many of the prevailing religious conventions of his day. Instead, as someone has famously said, Jesus afflicted the comfortable but comforted the afflicted.
Outside the Gospels, few portraits of Jesus are as box-breaking as is John’s portrait in Revelation 19.11–21. Based on our reading of the Gospels, we imagine Jesus sitting on a hill teaching the crowds, or striding through the Temple chasing down moneychangers, or hanging pitifully on an undeserved cross. When was the last time you saw him as a great king, clothed in white, seated on a majestic stallion, with sword at the ready, leading the multitudinous army of heaven? You have no doubt read about his teaching to turn the other cheek, but have you considered John’s portrait in which Christ slays his enemies with a sword held in his mouth?
John’s Jesus is a Jesus we never knew, but will know some day.
To properly appreciate this picture, we must understand two things: the symbolic nature of John’s language and the progress of salvation history.
First, John’s language is symbolic. He is not, I think, describing a literal battle in which Jesus will literally slay his enemies with a literal sword. Instead, he is using images of ancient warfare to symbolically portray Christ’s ultimate victory over the world, the flesh, and the devil. How do we know this? Well, among other things, you do not ride into battle without armor, but Christ and his armies are fighting only in fine linen robes. Also, Christ holds the sword not in his hand but in his mouth. That is hardly proper swordsmanship. Rather, the sword is “the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God” (Ephesians 6.17). It is “the word of God [which] is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword” (Hebrews 4.12, cf. Revelation 2.16). Jesus Christ does not fight with human weapons. He fights with God’s very own word. Indeed, he is himself the Word of God (John 1.1, 14).
Second, there is obviously movement from the Jesus portrayed in the Gospels to the Jesus portrayed in Revelation, a progressive unfolding of his role in the history of salvation. Soren Kierkegaard told the parable of a king who wanted to win a maiden’s love but knew he could never be sure of his love if she knew he was a king. So, the king left his palace, threw on pauper’s clothing, and worked a trade in the maiden’s village, until he could gain the maiden’s love as a poor man.
In much the same way, Jesus came to earth in swaddling clothes, in the poverty of humanity and vulnerability of crucifixion in order to win our heartfelt love for God. There comes a time, however, when he sees that further time will not produce further repentance and so reveals himself as what he has been all along: “the King of kings and Lord of lords.” The Gospels describe Jesus in his humility, Revelation in his glory, but they describe the same person.
As we read Revelation, then, we must keep in mind that there is coming a day when we will give an account of lives to God. Have we used this time to draw closer to the Savior, to take advantage of his merciful patience and repent of our sins? Or have we stubbornly clung to our rebellious ways?
The truth of the matter is this: We will meet Christ in victory or in defeat, but we will meet him all the same. How you meet him then depends on choices you make today.
The Marriage Supper of the Lamb (Revelation 19.6–10)
The second coming of Jesus Christ has a twofold effect: judgment and salvation. God reserves judgment for those who, in this present age, persistently refuse his offer of forgiveness and choose instead to continue sinning against him and against their neighbors. But God freely forgives any and all who turn to him with repentance and hope for salvation.
In John’s vision, judgment and salvation are depicted using a variety of graphic images. Judgment, for example, is urban destruction (Rev. 18.1–19.5) and battlefield carnage (19.11–21). Salvation, by contrast, is a wedding feast in which Jesus Christ marries his bride, the church (19.6–10).
Now, I can think of few images of salvation more evocative of joy than a wedding feast. In my pastoral ministry, I have officiated at numerous weddings and attended more than my fair share of banquets and receptions. I have never attended a boring reception or one full of misery or sadness. A wedding is always a happy event, and the banquet following it always reflects this fact.
Why is this the case? Because, I think, marriage is an expression of the way things are supposed to be between a man and a woman. Their relationship is supposed to be a thing of beauty, brought into existence by vows of faithful love, in the presence of friends and family, with the promise of children and the blessings of God. How can one fail to celebrate such a glorious thing?
No wonder, then, that both Old Testament prophets and New Testament apostles saw in marriage a metaphor of the relationship between God and his people, at least the way that relationship is supposed to be. Our relationship with God too is brought into being by vows of faithful love on his part first, and then ours. It too is not a solitary event, but a social one in which we are supported by spiritually like-minded friends and siblings. As we grow in our love of God and neighbor, we bring into the world spiritual children through the practices of evangelism and discipleship. Such a relationship with God is truly blessed.
In John’s vision, “the voice of a great multitude, like the roar of many waters and like the sound of mighty peals of thunder” cried out: “Hallelujah! For the Lord our God the Almighty reigns. Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready.”
Are we in fact ready for the marriage supper of the Lamb? Have we clothed ourselves with “fine linen, bright and pure,” which is “the righteous deeds of the saints”? Do we celebrate—exuberantly, joyfully—the wonderful salvation God has freely offered us through his Son, Jesus Christ?
Sometimes, I look out at the church as it worships and see many mouths closed, arms crossed, eyes set, and jaws clenched. I never see such posture at a wedding banquet or reception, and I wonder why the church is not happier. The marriage supper of the Lamb is no momentary party but an eternal feast. Shouldn’t our faces reflect that fact as we gather each week for worship?
