This evening I teach an adult-education class on the book of Revelation. It’s the concluding session of a mini-series we’ve been doing this Advent.Revelation may not seem, to some, like appropriate subject-matter for the jolly weeks leading up to Christmas – but, in fact, Advent is traditionally a time for reflecting on the promise of Christ’s return and the final consummation of all things.
As I teach the class, I take pains to distance my own views from those who see in Revelation definitive signs that Christ is coming soon - preceded by various cataclysmic events, hints of which can be seen in today’s news. (The most cataclysmic event in this way of thinking – something called “the Rapture,” when the faithful will be bodily taken up into heaven – doesn’t come from Revelation at all, but from a decidedly odd interpretation of 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18.) Such an interpretation of the Bible – made wildly popular by Hal Lindsay’s 1970 bestseller, The Late, Great Planet Earth, and the more recent Left Behind novels of Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins – is based on a total misreading of the scriptures, as far as I’m concerned.
Few of the Christians who gleefully advance such views realize they’re built on a minority biblical inter- pretation, dreamed up as late as the mid-19th century, that only became popular in the 20th. Rapture Theology – known to theologians by its technical term, dispensationalism – is an artificially-created interpretative grid laid over top of the scriptures, that’s out of sync with historic Christianity. It’s based on anything but a literal reading of the Bible – although most proponents will protest till they’re blue in the face that they’re not interpreting at all, but are simply reporting what scripture plainly says.Beware of any Bible teachers who claim they never interpret the text, I always say. They’ve probably got a fifth ace up their sleeve.
Anyway, as our little group opens Revelation this evening, I’m struck yet again by how powerful is its imagery, how deep its spirituality. It truly is a difficult book to understand, but for those who persist, it yields rich treasures. It’s an especially powerful book for those who are suffering in one way or another, who have been forced by life’s hard knocks to contemplate death and the life to come.
“Then another angel came out of the temple in heaven, and he too had a sharp sickle. Then another angel came out from the altar, the angel who has authority over fire, and he called with a loud voice to him who had the sharp sickle, ‘Use your sharp sickle and gather the clusters of the vine of the earth, for its grapes are ripe.’ So the angel swung his sickle over the earth and gathered the vintage of the earth, and he threw it into the great wine press of the wrath of God. And the wine press was trodden outside the city, and blood flowed from the wine press, as high as a horse’s bridle, for a distance of about two hundred miles.” (Revelation 14:17-20)
Unless I miss my guess, that passage is the source of the iconic image of Death wielding a sickle. Is this passage unnecessarily maudlin, reveling in gory details that better belong to some teen slasher movie? Not really, considering that Revelation was written for churches undergoing severe persecution. (OK, a river of blood deep as a horse’s bridle is obvious hyperbole, but its poetic imagery would have spoken to the persecuted, all the same.)
Most people with only a superficial understanding of Revelation think the book is all about shocking imagery like this. Yet, those who persist in reading the entire book soon realize its intention is not to incite fear. No, the deep message of Revelation – a drumbeat that begins softly in the first chapters, slowly swelling to crescendo by the book’s triumphant conclusion – is that of hope, hope for those who have suffered much:
“And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying,
'See, the home of God is among mortals.
He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples,
and God himself will be with them;
he will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for the first things have passed away.'” (Revelation 21:3-4)
Revelation frankly acknowledges the agonies and heartaches of life, but at the end of the day, its message is deeply healing:“Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city. On either side of the river is the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, producing its fruit each month; and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.” (Revelation 22:1-2)
Every time I reach into the baptismal font and scoop up some water to pour over a baby’s head, the bright drops that drip from my cupped palm are the water of life. Such a vision is what keeps me going, despite the inescapable signs of death and suffering I’ve seen. It’s what keep us all going, we who have sensed the touch of God in our lives.
“The Spirit and the bride say, ‘Come.’
And let everyone who hears say, ‘Come.’
And let everyone who is thirsty come.
Let anyone who wishes take the water of life as a gift.” (Revelation 22:17)
