The Apocalypse, also known as the Revelation of St. John, or simply Revelation, is perhaps the most misunderstood—and misused—book in the Bible. Certain groups within the early Church so misconstrued its message that the early Eastern churches even questioned the book’s canonicity. Wiser heads eventually prevailed, and its canonicity became universally accepted.

From the outset, St. John informs us of his purpose. He hopes to encourage an appropriate Christian response, “patient endurance” to the “tribulation,” which they are undergoing (1:9). It will become apparent that an integral part of “patient endurance” is the celebration of the Eucharist. Finally, John will investigate the mysterious nature of the Kingdom that Christ established by His blood during His first advent (1:6, 9).

The rapturist position has already been proven inadequate in every passage we have so far examined, so we could probably skip the entire Apocalypse. But then I am afraid rapturists would cry, “Foul!” They have an elaborate scheme of how this book will one day be fulfilled, a scheme that deserves to be rebutted. It is not within our purpose to attempt an exhaustive commentary of this beautifully crafted book. Instead, we will read it with an eye always focused on its meaning, and whether the rapturist scheme can be reasonably derived from the text.

It was an ordinary September day, and the man who commanded the world’s most powerful army looked over the great city in silence. Just a few weeks earlier, thousands had died in an attack on it. The burning at the city’s heart could be seen from miles away.

The attack on this major center of world trade was the result of the religious fanaticism of a group of zealots in the Middle East, who, according to other adherents of their religion, had hijacked the meaning of their faith. The whole world witnessed the massive destruction visited upon the city that day.

The man who quietly looked over the destruction was the scion of a powerful political family. At this point in history, he was in charge of the only superpower remaining in the West. The man was the oldest son of the one person who might have, maybe even should have, ended the conflict with these extremists years earlier. Instead, the resentment continued to brew for years, and more than a few cheered and celebrated at the destruction.

Who was this man in charge?

Caesar Titus of Rome. And Caesar Vespasian was his father. The city that was overrun was Jerusalem, and the building that burned was Herod’s Temple. In The Apocalypse, we will investigate a day that changed the world forever: August 10, 70 A.D.

If you thought we were describing September 11, 2001, do not feel bad. You were caught in the “Winkle Warp.” As the story goes, Rip van Winkle fell asleep for twenty years in the Catskill Mountains. When he awoke, an entire generation had died off. He looked for his young daughter, only to find her holding a child of her own. He saw himself leaning against a tree, only to realize it was actually his grown son. Rip van Winkle had experienced a time warp, a “Winkle Warp.”

Rapturists experience a Winkle Warp when they read The Apocalypse. They look at the descriptions of events and misplace them by two thousand years. They are still waiting for Daniel’s seventieth week, when in fact it encompassed the seven decades of covenantal transition during the first century. The Apocalypse is a series of visions describing this transition, including the Great Tribulation of the Olivet Discourse and the casting out of Hagar explained in Galatians. The bulk of the visions are not primarily about our future, and only a Winkle Warp can make it seem as if they are. True, we must not make the mistake of assuming that the lessons of The Apocalypse do not apply to our daily lives. When we meditate on the evil in our modern world, we need to keep the lesson of The Apocalypse before us. Yet the book must be interpreted within its frame of reference: 68 to 70 A.D. (GR3).

I believe one reason for the rapturists’ Winkle Warp is their doctrine of sola Scriptura. In Church-history class, they doze off at the end of the Acts of the Apostles and do not wake up until the Great Awakening (the first major Protestant revival in America, in the 1730s). Some pay slight attention to St. Augustine, but otherwise miss all of the Church’s development from 65 to 1700 A.D. Their Winkle Warp spans more than one and a half millennia!

In the process of our examination, we will try definitively to answer the question, “Will you be left behind when Jesus returns?” We have already come to a solid conclusion, but there are those who still will withhold their decision until we examine the last book of the Bible. That suits our purposes just fine, as this is the only book of the Bible that promises a special blessing to anyone who reads it: “Blessed is he who reads aloud the words of the prophecy, and blessed are those who hear, and who keep what is written therein; for the time is near” (1:3).

Authorship, date, and frame of reference

I will interpret The Apocalypse on the premise that the apostle John was its author. This has the weight of long tradition in its favor.

As far as the frame of reference, there is substantial agreement among scholars, except rapturists, that St. John intended much of the book to be read as though it were written during the reigns of Nero and Vespasian. The switch between the two dynasties took place in 68 A.D., when Nero committed suicide. This scholarly conclusion is very well accepted for at least a major part of these visions and is the crucial conclusion for our purposes.

I go a step further than most modern scholars in that I believe the 68 A.D. frame of reference was also the actual date of authorship. Therefore I will refer to the author as St. John and to the frame of reference and the date of authorship as 68 A.D.

Although my conclusions on the author and frame of reference of The Apocalypse are very broadly accepted, that is not true as regards the date of authorship. I have discussed thoroughly my reasons for rejecting the more commonly accepted 96 A.D. date in Appendix Four. Whether you read it or not, remember the important point: there is wide scholarly support for the position that 68 A.D. is the frame of reference intended by St. John, regardless of the actual date of authorship.

Although we have discussed this period, let us review the events that scholars widely agree form the intended backdrop to The Apocalypse. Until 63 A.D., Rome considered Christianity to be a sect within Judaism, a recognized religion within the empire. The Romans had a policy of tolerating indigenous religions. Thus, Christians were free to practice their Faith without state interference.

In July of 64 A.D., that all changed. Nero finally agreed with the Sanhedrin that Christianity was not a part of Judaism. For the first time, Rome started to persecute Christians. Many Christians died, and even more deserted the young Church. The epistle to the Hebrews is evidence of the Church’s concern about this trend toward apostasy.

This state-sponsored persecution lasted from July 64 until February 67 A.D. At that point, the empire changed its mind about where the real danger to the empire lay. Jerusalem had revolted in 66 A.D. The Jewish Temple in Jerusalem stopped daily sacrifices for the emperor. This enraged Nero (who may have actually believed his own claims to divinity), and Rome soon mobilized a massive army to defeat the Jews. In turning upon Jerusalem, Rome’s attention was diverted from the intense persecution of the Church. The Roman war upon the Jews lasted precisely forty-two months, from February 67 until August 70 A.D.

St. John clearly wanted the reader to understand that his visions were a commentary on events of his time. He says that the visions describe “what is and what is to take place hereafter” (1:19).

John also references the prophecy of the Olivet Discourse to reaffirm that his visions are the fulfillment of Jesus’ predictions concerning the end of Daniel’s final week of covenantal transition. “Behold, He is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see Him, everyone who pierced Him; and all tribes of the earth [better translated as “land”] will wail on account of Him. Even so. Amen” (1:7). St. John obviously believed that Jesus’ predictions were occurring within the generation He mentioned. His book supplies us with the details.

One important note concerning translations should be made. The Revised Standard Version uses earth for the Greek word ge. St. John uses this word profusely throughout his visions. But this Greek word is translated as “land” about two-thirds of the time in the New Testament. That is a better translation much of the time in The Apocalypse as well. The land of Israel was the one suffering under these seals, because the Sanhedrin had first rejected their Messiah and then the message of His followers. This word will rear its head again and again in The Apocalypse. Rather than call attention to it each time, as in the quotation above, I will simply translate ge as “land” when appropriate.

When we read the book as a divine commentary on the events of Daniel’s seventieth week, it comes alive. This was an exciting time of covenantal transition. The first nineteen chapters are short, intense glimpses of the events affecting the Church during this period. It is apocalyptic literature to be sure, and so its imagery is vivid (GR 5, 6, 7); but the events that God says “must soon take place” (1:1) did just that! God kept His promise, just as the Messiah did in the predictions of the Olivet Discourse.

The theme of The Apocalypse is identical to that of Daniel: “The mystery of Christ’s Kingdom: proof that Christ is coming again.” The only difference is generated by the six hundred years of events that transpire between the two books. While Daniel envisions the time from the re-establishment of the earthly Jerusalem Temple to the first advent, St. John envisions the time from the establishment of the New Jerusalem Temple to the second advent.

Here is an outline of the structure of The Apocalypse:

The roots of this general outline are in the Church’s earliest understanding of The Apocalypse. Until the thirteenth century, virtually everyone in the Church believed that the initial vision of the seals (chs. 6–7) and trumpets (chs. 8–9) are recapitulated in the ensuing visions. The visions are linked like the visions of Daniel: they tell the same story from different angles and perspectives, while the time periods of the individual visions overlap. This is perfectly normal in apocalyptic literature and would have been understood by St. John’s initial readers—especially since they were familiar with Daniel’s outline (GR8).

St. Augustine certainly taught that the visions were not chronologically related, but that they repeatedly reviewed the time span from the first advent to the Last Judgment (GR8). In fact, this view concerning recapitulation of the visions can be traced at least as far back as Victorinus of Pettau (Victorinau), a martyr under Emperor Diocletian in 303 A.D. His is the earliest extant commentary on The Apocalypse. Some have questioned its authorship and integrity, but modern scholarship has put those issues to rest (NCE, XIV, 651).

Victorinus understood the visions as recapitulating the same events from different perspectives to provide emphasis and new information. Referring to the seals, trumpets, and bowls, he writes, “Although the same thing recurs in the phials [bowls], still it is not said as if it occurred twice, but because what is decreed by the Lord to happen shall be once for all; for this cause it is said twice. What, therefore, He said too little in the trumpets, is here found in the phials. We must not regard the order of what is said, because frequently the Holy Spirit, when He has traversed even to the end of the last times, returns again to the same times, and fills up what He had before failed to say. Nor must we look for order in The Apocalypse; but we must follow the meaning of those things which are prophesied” (COA, VII). In other words, the visions are not chronologically organized (GR8).

The New Catholic Encyclopedia states that this original understanding is still the best. “Section 12:1–21:8 covers the same period (as the initial vision), but centering on the role of the Church.… Even the description of the heavenly Jerusalem [recapitulates this period] (21:1–22:5), although it offers a transcendent image of the Church” (NCE, I).

Recently, however, this original view has been drowned out by the cacophony of rapturist voices trying to understand these visions chronologically. This system of interpretation did not really gain credence until the thirteenth century, winning more notoriety when the Reformers insisted on using this novel interpretation to justify their identification of the Pope with the antichrist. It is difficult at times to believe that, even today, interpretive choices are uncolored by the common rapturist desire to use The Apocalypse to condemn the Catholic Church as the Whore of Babylon.

If you have a good memory, you may have noticed that the theme and outline of St. John’s Apocalypse are identical to Daniel’s! This is very important. Here is a combined outline of Daniel and The Apocalypse.

St. John consciously borrowed the outline of Daniel as he wrote The Apocalypse. Both books start with God’s people standing up for Him, but finding it dangerous to do so. Both then relate the central, initial vision, revealing the mystery of the Messiah’s Kingdom. After that, both authors insert events from the lives of important historical people to help the reader understand the initial vision more fully. Both books proceed to recapitulate the initial vision, while providing proof concerning the coming of the Messiah. Finally there is a thematic summary of each book. (In Daniel, this thematic summary is part of the deuterocanonical portion of the book.)

This reliance on Daniel is evident in more than just the outline of The Apocalypse. St. John alludes to or quotes from the Old Testament 518 times in the 404 verses of this book. Almost seventeen percent, or eighty-eight, of these allusions and quotations are from Daniel alone. Since there are twenty-two chapters in The Apocalypse, on average there are four references to Daniel in every chapter.

The similarities go beyond language. Daniel was a man of God suffering under a government that commanded him to disobey his God by eating the food of idols and worshiping the king; the Christians of The Apocalypse were suffering under a government that commanded them to disobey Christ by worshiping the emperor. Daniel’s response was worship and prayer, which St. John recommended to the early Church. When both Daniel and the Christians continued to worship and pray to their God, the state used deceit and power to throw them to the lions. In both cases, the faithful response was always prayer.

With all of these similarities, it should not surprise us that the visions of The Apocalypse reflect the visions of Daniel. We will be seeing many of the same events being described. The Apocalypse concentrates on the time during which the Old Covenant passes away and is publicly replaced by the New Covenant. Daniel focuses on the last of his seventy weeks—as will St. John in The Apocalypse. This week encompasses the seven decades of covenantal transition. As in Daniel, The Apocalypse deals with the final eschaton only briefly, at the end of the visions. This is as we would expect.

No one should ever try to understand St. John’s Revelation without first becoming thoroughly immersed in Daniel. If you ignore Daniel’s outline when examining The Apocalypse, you can easily fall into the mistake of placing the visions of The Apocalypse in chronological order. As anyone can attest who has carefully studied under a rapturist, this makes the book absolutely indecipherable! Rather, the visions of The Apocalypse reveal the same events from different perspectives, with different details over slightly different periods—in precisely the same manner as Daniel’s visions did.

This outline does not, as far as I can determine, negate the idea that St. John also wrote The Apocalypse to parallel the Liturgy of the Mass. The Eucharist is essential to understanding St. John’s visions. When the Church on earth celebrates the Eucharist, it is united to the triumphant New Jerusalem in Heaven. These ideas could certainly be investigated more fully, but that is not the purpose of this book.

But before delving into St. John’s masterpiece, we need a timetable to determine which prophecies are past, which are present, and which are future. For those reading the book in 68 A.D., almost all of The Apocalypse would have been future, but not for us. The same was true of Daniel’s prophecy. When he wrote it, it was almost all future, but later readers must take into account the fulfillment of some of his prophecies. We will make this timetable reflect our perspective in the twenty-first century, not that of the first century.

Notice that the timetable overlaps the book outline. Events present to us in the twenty-first century take up only five verses, until St. John returns to the present state of affairs in the thematic summary at the book’s end; future events encompass only about one chapter. The vast majority of The Apocalypse is history now. We will refer back to this timetable, but will use the outline for headings.

Rather than proceed exhaustively and meticulously verse by verse, which would entail writing a complete commentary on The Apocalypse, we will look at the overall flow of the book, paying particular attention to how the symbols relate to the events of the Great Tribulation and the Jewish-Roman War. We will examine all the symbols that have become well-known in the rapturist system, but we cannot hope to discuss every single symbol here.

We will keep in mind two questions: Were these prophecies fulfilled adequately in 70 A.D.? Is there anything that necessitates our acceptance of the belief in a future secret rapture, future seven-year Great Tribulation, or future Millennium?

Much of our work will be to illustrate that the events surrounding 70 A.D. really do fulfill the visions of St. John. Then there will be no reason to look to the future, except as these events themselves may foreshadow the future eschaton (GR3).

The historical setting

The first three chapters of The Apocalypse give the historical setting. Immediately, St. John begins using numbers in a symbolic way. Seven is the number that symbolizes God’s perfect workings in the world (GR2). The speaker in the vision, Christ, is envisioned standing in the midst of “seven golden lampstands … and … in His right hand He held seven stars.… The seven stars are the angels of the seven churches, and the seven lampstands are the seven churches” (1:12–20).

The next two chapters contain letters to the seven churches in Asia Minor, struggling to stand for God in the midst of evil. For the visions in The Apocalypse describe a battle, with Christ and His truth on one side and Satan and his deceitful use of power on the other. False teachings and carnal practices are always Satan’s approach to the Church, whether in the first century or in the twenty-first.

Despite the faithfulness of many Christians, there was apostasy in these churches, which has led some to believe that The Apocalypse was written later than 68 A.D. But that view is wrong. Apostasy came early and often in the Church. In fact, Jesus warned in the Olivet Discourse that false teachers would appear before the judgment of 70 A.D. These letters prove that the heresy promised in the Olivet Discourse did in fact appear before the judgment of the Sanhedrin. The rest of The Apocalypse proves that the Great Tribulation and the Temple’s destruction that Jesus predicted appeared as well.

We learn that the Ephesian Church opposes the Nicolaitans (2:6). We can possibly trace the Nicolaitans to one of the first seven deacons ordained by the Apostles (Acts 6:5). According to Victorinus, they were morally permissive, promising “that whoever [had] committed fornication might receive peace on the eighth day” (COA, II).

Jesus promises to “grant to eat of the tree of life” to the Christian who “conquers” (2:7). We will encounter this tree again at the end of the book. St. John repeatedly uses the literary technique of briefly alluding to a subject and then promptly dropping it. Later, when that subject returns as the central theme of another vision, the reader is familiar with it. This gives unity to visions that otherwise might seem disjointed. We will call this technique anticipation.

The Church in Smyrna is under persecution from “those who say that they are Jews and are not, but are a synagogue of Satan” (2:9). This should give us clear notice that the tension between the Jewish leaders and the Christians was in full bloom in Smyrna. Christ warns them that they will have a short but complete time of trial ahead, “ten days” (GR2). This reflects the ten days of trial that Daniel underwent at the beginning of his captivity. After his trial, the king granted him a role in ruling.

Christ ends with a promise of reward after successful endurance: “He who conquers shall not be hurt by the second death” (2:11). It is significant that here, in the middle of trials, this Church is not promised deliverance from trouble. There is no hint of a secret rapture that will spare them the Great Tribulation ahead.

The second death will reappear later in The Apocalypse. We will discuss it then, but even in this brief instance of anticipation, it is clearly a reference to eternal damnation (COA, II).

Pergamum’s church had succumbed to the evil of the Nicolaitans: eating “food sacrificed to idols and [practicing] immorality” (2:14). A careful reading of these churches’ problems illustrates that in the early Church there were serious heresies that sprang up almost immediately.

The parallel to Daniel’s test is interesting. The government ordered Daniel to eat royal food sacrificed to idols. He refused, and God rewarded Daniel and his three friends for their faithfulness to His Law. Christ promises the same if Pergamum repents. If not, Christ states that He “will come to [them] soon and war against them with the sword of my mouth” (2:16). This anticipates the sword that later represents the Truth of the gospel.

The Church of Thyatira had in their midst a woman whom Christ calls “Jezebel.” She was “teaching and beguiling my servants to practice immorality” (2:20). This may have been linked to one of the Gnostic cults, because they had secret teachings, “what some call the deep things of Satan” (2:24). The Gnostics can be linked to Simon Magus, whom we read of in Acts. He said, “I am the Word of God, I am the Comforter, I am Almighty, I am all there is of God” (GHF).

Christ assures Jezebel of the coming of His judgment if she does not repent. The result of this judgment “anticipates” one of the major themes of The Apocalypse: “And all the churches shall know that I am He who searches mind and heart” (2:23). The judgment of Christ vindicates His claims to godly power. It also serves as an assurance that He will judge everyone in the final eschaton, as He has predicted. Of course, those who die before the final eschaton will witness the coming of Christ upon their death for their own particular judgment.

The Church of Sardis is bluntly urged to awaken. Anyone who responds, Christ “will not blot his name out of the book of life” (3:5). Many rapturists also are strong proponents of eternal security. They do not believe that anyone can be blotted out, even if they stay asleep throughout Christ’s warnings. The letter to Sardis ought to give them pause.

St. John also anticipates a common future use of coming. As we saw in Daniel and the Olivet Discourse, God comes in judgment at times other than just the second advent. Christ threatens to “come like a thief, and you will not know at what hour I will come upon you” (3:3). Since this is spoken only to those who refuse to awaken, it is obviously not a reference to the final eschaton. Christ possesses the ability to judge people because He is the Lion who has conquered like a Lamb.

Christ praises the Philadelphian Christians for their faithfulness. He refers again to “the synagogue of Satan.” Christ promises to make these persecutors of His Church “learn that I have loved you” (3:9). This phrase could have easily been spoken by Abraham to Sarah when they discussed Hagar! This anticipates one of the major themes of The Apocalypse. Christ wants it to be clear to all the world that from this point forward, He loves His Church as His chosen people. As we noted in Galatians and Hebrews, one major reason the Temple had to be destroyed was to clear up latent confusion over where one met God, in the Jerusalem Temple or in the Church.

To those who “conquer” by remaining faithful to Christ, He promises to “write on him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, the new Jerusalem which comes down from my God out of Heaven, and my own new name” (3:12).

He has already anticipated the Jewish persecution of the Church with two references to “the synagogue of Satan.” That persecution will take center stage very soon in the book. He also has anticipated eternal damnation in the “second death” and eternal life in the “book of life.” Now he anticipates the “New Jerusalem,” which we will not see in its full manifestation until the very end of the visions. St. John is preparing us by mentioning it here. Finally, he alludes to the writing of “the name of my God” on the conqueror. This is preparing us for the mark of God that will take center stage soon, in juxtaposition to the famous mark of the Beast.

Christ accuses the last Church, Laodicea, of complacency stemming from their material wealth. He warns them that “those whom I love, I reprove and chasten” (3:19). This is a sobering thought, especially since the rest of the book will discuss tribulation. Notice there is not a hint of a secret rapture to save them from hardship. God shows us His love through chastening.

Christ continues, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me” (3:20). Protestants often use this verse to invite a prospect to be “born again.” But notice the context. Christ is inviting Christians, not unbelievers, to eat with Him. This is an invitation to share in the Eucharist. At the Eucharist, Christians are invited to open their lives to Christ’s Kingdom and “eat with Him.” Christ always keeps His promise: “I will come in to him” (cf. John 6). As we will see, even this mention of the Mass is an anticipation of a major theme of this book.

Yes, these churches were struggling against complacency, materialism, immorality, heresy, and persecution—just like any age. We encounter the struggle against apostasy and error in almost all of the epistles. These were real churches, with real people struggling against real hardships to be the kind of Christians Christ was calling them to be. The solution to these problems is the sacraments, particularly the Eucharist. It will become crystal clear in later visions that this is where Christ strengthens us through His supernatural presence. That is why St. John ended his letters with an invitation to commune with his Lord.

In Chapters 4 through 11, we encounter St. John’s vision of the scroll. All other visions recapitulate this first one. It comes in two parts: the seven seals of a scroll and the seven trumpets contained in the last seal. The seals view the judgments from the perspective of the King (Christ), and the trumpets recapitulate these judgments from the perspective of the judged. (This uses the same plan of visions as Daniel did. The statue vision looked at the four kingdoms to come through the monarch’s eyes, and the beast vision saw these empires through the eyes of the conquered peoples.)

Perhaps we should mention that rapturists make a rather large issue out of the fact that there is no mention of the Church in Chapters 4 through 18. They take this as a signal that the Church is not present on earth because all the born-again Christians have been secretly raptured away from the Great Tribulation.

This holds no water. The saints—those who make up the Church—are mentioned eleven times in these chapters, on average almost once every chapter. These saints are on earth. If they had been “raptured” away, it would have been a very secret rapture indeed—so secret that St. John never even mentions it!

We must not lose sight of the major message, however. Yes, the vision is punctuated with the seven seals and seven trumpets. But the central element is the scroll. What does the scroll contain? No one knows until it is opened, and at first it seems as if no one will be able to reveal it.

The visions begin with St. John on earth, and a door to Heaven opens. A voice invites him to enter Heaven and says, “I will show you what must take place after this” (4:1). This establishes the book’s historical setting. The letters to the churches have been read. The events to be examined immediately follow the time of these churches: the first century.

Once in Heaven, St. John encounters “a throne [that] stood in Heaven, with one seated on the throne” (4:2). Twenty-four elders and four beasts worship God there. The twenty-four elders hearken back to the twenty-four sets of twenty-four priests that we find in 1 Chronicles 24. The Temple of the Old Covenant had twenty-four priests on duty at any given time, and they would take their turns every twenty-four days. These twenty-four elders in The Apocalypse probably represent the entire priesthood of the New Covenant (GR3). They might also represent the twelve Apostles and twelve patriarchs (GR4).

Victorinus took the “jasper and carnelian” appearance of God to symbolize judgment by flood (clear jasper) and judgment by fire (reddish carnelian). The rainbow symbolizes the eternal promise of God never to judge by water again (Gen. 9:11). The “sea of glass” reminds us that we can approach this fearsome, judging God only through the grace bestowed at Baptism (COA, IV).

The four living creatures are probably cherubim, as were the four living creatures in Ezekiel’s vision. “They never cease to sing, ‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!’ ” (4:8).

This is the “holy, holy, holy” to which we join our voices during every Mass. As other authors have noted, the Liturgy of the Church is never far from St. John’s mind as he records his visions. The Apocalypse will circle back again to the praise that Heaven is continually pouring upon God: He is worthy because of who He is and what He has done. The twenty-four elders join in the praise of God: “Worthy art Thou, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for Thou didst create all things, and by Thy will they existed and were created” (4:11).

The scroll that “no one in Heaven or on earth or under the earth was able to open” (5:3) is the central, unifying element of the entire first vision, which, encompassing seven chapters, is the longest single segment of The Apocalypse. Yet rapturists usually ignore the scroll and its significance. They spend time on other details, such as the locust, the scorpions, the wormwood, and the falling stars, but not on the scroll. This is a mistake. The rest of this vision entails the opening of the seven seals that hide the contents of this scroll. The seven seals encompass also the seven trumpets, the three woes, and the seven thunders.

Origen wrote that the scroll was the Old Testament. In this he was following Victorinus’s commentary on The Apocalypse. I agree with Origen. But we must always keep in mind that the entire Old Testament points to Christ and His Kingdom, whose true nature remains shrouded in mystery until the seals are broken. What was hidden in the Old Testament was revealed in the Messiah.

Even though the scene is in God’s throne room, the only one able to break the seals on the scroll is “the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David” (5:5). Why? Because He “has conquered.” When He opens the scroll, Heaven “sang a new song, saying, ‘Worthy art Thou to take the scroll and to open its seals, for Thou wast slain and by Thy blood didst ransom men for God from every tribe and tongue and people and nation, and hast made them a kingdom and priests to our God, and they shall reign on earth” (5:9–10).

We must take a moment to understand this song, because it reveals the scroll’s message. Christ is able to open and reveal the contents of the hidden message in the scroll because of His Passion. That sacrifice established a Kingdom with priests, an ecclesiastical Kingdom containing people—both Jew and Gentile—of every nation. These people will unite and reign on earth in a spiritual, ecclesiastical Kingdom, rather than a physical, political one. The hidden message of the scroll reveals the true nature of the Messiah’s Kingdom.

To us in the twenty-first century, this may not seem like exciting news. To those in the first century, it was earth-shaking. No longer was Jew-versus-Gentile the important distinction. Now it is ransomed-versus-unbelieving. The Kingdom was established, but not in the manner the Sanhedrin had expected. This was a priestly Kingdom, the Church.

That is the message of the scroll. It is the hidden message of the Old Testament. The message is revealed to the entire world when the seals of this scroll are opened. Although the chosen of God understood this before 70 A.D., the world did not. The seals relate the details of the destruction of the Temple. That event signaled to the world that Christ had delivered on His promise of judgment in the Olivet Discourse. Until that event, many might have thought of Jesus as just an interesting Jewish boy. No longer!

The scroll’s message was hidden in the Old Testament. It was conceived on Calvary. It was publicly proclaimed at Pentecost. It was finally affirmed and vindicated when the seals were opened and the Temple was judged. There is now a new people of God, made up of Jew and Gentile. God’s ekklesia (Church) is not limited to one ethnic group or one geographical location. All peoples will come to the one table of this Kingdom and eat together. Further, the leader of this New Covenant is not just an inspiring human, but someone who can reach from beyond the grave to judge His enemies, because He has conquered death.

That is the central message of this vision. Do not lose sight of it as the seals, the trumpets, the woes, and the thunders unfold. Christ and His Church are being vindicated in the judgment on the Sanhedrin. His Church is being publicly proclaimed as God’s New Covenant People.

St. John will return to this mystery at the very end of this vision. He will make explicit what we have just drawn out of Heaven’s song. We will discuss the mystery of the Kingdom further at that point, but it helps to know ahead of time that this is the message of the scroll and its seal. Christ is being publicly vindicated for the victory already won when He “wast slain.”

St. John looks for the Lion that has conquered, but he actually sees “a Lamb standing, as though it had been slain, with seven horns and with seven eyes” (5:6). Again the symbolism of numbers in The Apocalypse becomes apparent (GR2). No one I know of has in his home an image of Christ as a seven-eyed, seven-horned lamb.

The glory of the Lion is that He gave Himself as a Lamb for the redemption of the world. He “has conquered so that He can open the scroll and its seven seals” (5:5). This self-sacrificing path to victory is to be an example to His followers. We will see that the victory of the saints will come through spiritual strength, by keeping their faith in the Truth while enduring suffering—not by reliance upon physical strength, deception, or political power.

The conquering Lion, the slain Lamb, has already established a Kingdom. This reign of Christ on earth will be examined in detail when we reach Chapter 20. But notice that even here in the very first vision, the coming of this Kingdom is already spoken of in the past tense. The Kingdom is in existence even before the events of The Apocalypse take place, even before we get to the description of the Millennium.

This is impossible for rapturists to explain. They do not believe God’s Kingdom was established when the Lamb “didst ransom men for God from every tribe and tongue and people and nation.” In fact, they do not believe the Kingdom will even be established until seven years after this scene in Chapter 5 of The Apocalypse. St. John’s obvious reference to the Passion assures us that the Church is correct: “As Eve was formed from the sleeping Adam’s side, so the Church [the Messianic Kingdom] was born from the pierced heart of Christ hanging dead upon the Cross” (CCC, par. 766).

Christ’s sacrifice established His Kingdom and motivates thanksgiving to and worship of the Lamb. They “sang a new song” in honor of the Lamb (5:9). We will closely examine this act of singing, later, in the second recapitulating vision.

For now, let us just say that it is the same event as the “marriage supper of the Lamb” (19:9). This marriage supper is commonly recognized by Catholic commentators as the Mass. The Mass can be described not only as a sacrifice, but also as a meal, and here as a song.

It may be easy for us to miss the significance of this for those in the first century. In taking Communion, a Catholic eats with everyone else present. But when the Church began, Jews obeyed the Old Covenant dietary laws. Gentiles ate unclean foods in unclean circumstances. These two groups just did not intermingle! Before the Church, no one could even imagine these two groups eating together.

But Christ could. He established a new Kingdom whose sacramental meal was the Eucharist, and at that meal were people “from every tribe and tongue and people and nation” (5:9). The Mass is intimately tied to the mystery of the Kingdom. Until this Kingdom, no one would have dreamed that Jew and Gentile could commune together in peace. This mystery is contained on the scroll about to be opened by the breaking of the seals.

We now approach the details of the judgment that reveals to the whole world the true nature of the Messianic Kingdom: the mystery of the scroll. The symbolic importance of the number seven continues to be evident in the seals and trumpets: seven of each of them. They signify the perfect judgment of God upon the leadership of an unbelieving Jerusalem. In Leviticus, Moses had warned Israel that they would be punished seven times if they forsook God: “If you will not hearken to me … I will chastise you again sevenfold for your sins” (26:14, 18). St. John emphasizes that history is firmly within the grasp of the Lamb with the seven horns and seven eyes.

Rather than seeing the seals and the trumpets as chronologically related, the passages should be viewed as portraits of this period from different angles. The seals look at these events from the perspective of the Lion/Lamb who opens them. His Church had been ruthlessly persecuted during the Great Tribulation of 64 to 67 A.D., and justice is finally being meted out upon those persecutors from 67 to 70 A.D.

The opening of the first seal reveals a message of hope, given by the King for the encouragement of the persecuted Christian community: “I saw … a white horse, and its Rider had a bow; and a crown was given to Him, and He went out conquering and to conquer” (6:2). This Rider symbolizes Christ, armed with the conquering Truth He proclaims. The picture of Christ the Word on a white horse is reminiscent of an Old Testament passage in Wisdom: “Thy all-powerful word leaped from Heaven, from the royal throne, into the midst of the land that was doomed, a stern warrior carrying the sharp sword of Thy authentic command” (18:15–16).

Christ appears on a white horse riding in victory over His enemies again at the end of The Apocalypse (19:11). This first seal is an anticipation of that event. The visions of The Apocalypse begin and end with the white-horse Rider. The first seal reminds the Christian community that even though there is much suffering to undergo first, the final outcome is assured: Christ will be victorious. From Heaven’s perspective, He already is.

The next three seals are also horses with riders. The red horse signifies war: “Its rider was permitted to take peace from the land” (6:4). The black horse signifies famine, with outrageous prices for foodstuffs. The pale horse symbolizes death: “I saw … a pale horse, and its rider’s name was Death, and Hades followed him” (6:8). As history attests, famine follows war, and death follows them both. The events of Ezekiel’s time (Ezek. 6:11–7:15) foreshadowed St. John’s time (GR3).

It is noteworthy that the seals are opened in the same order that Jesus used in warning His disciples about the fall of the Temple (signs 2 and 3 in the Olivet Discourse). St. John is describing the fulfillment of his Lord’s predictions spoken about four decades earlier.

The fifth seal reveals the martyrs of the Church, killed during the intense persecution of the Sanhedrin and Nero (sign 5 in the Olivet Discourse). Their souls are obviously awaiting the final resurrection, but why are they under the altar in Heaven? This is a reflection of the Old Covenant Temple. In the Temple, the blood of the sacrifices flowed under the altar. The Old Testament taught that the life of a creature was in its blood (Lev. 17:11). These martyrs were New Covenant sacrifices. They had joined their suffering to those of Christ’s Passion. St. Paul alludes to his own desire for this union of suffering. In Colossians, he writes, “I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of His body” (1:24).

From an earthly perspective, these martyrs had wasted their lives as a burning lamp in one of Nero’s garden parties, or as lion bait for entertainment at the Coliseum. But from a heavenly perspective, their earthly loss of life was a Christian sacrifice. In reality, their lives were not lost, but preserved under the altar in Heaven. Their sacrifice had eternal significance in God’s Kingdom in Heaven.

These martyrs cry out to God for justice against their persecutors. (Even from the perspective of a Christian in Heaven, evil should be punished.) They are told to be patient; it will be only “a little longer” (6:11). Indeed, history records that it was less than three years before the fall of Jerusalem. More martyrdom must be accomplished before God will be ready to exact justice. We are reminded that the purpose of our earthly existence is not human happiness, but human divination. This idea may sound strange to us, but was a common theme of the early Church Fathers.

The sixth seal is actually the final one, since the seventh seal recapitulates these events in trumpets, thunders, and woes. This seal uses the apocalyptic language to which we have now become accustomed, especially in our examination of this event in the Olivet Discourse (Matt. 24:29). This is the climax to the disruptions of 70 A.D.: political dynasties will be dislodged (GR5).

The events leading up to 70 A.D. saw not only the fall of the most prominent religious dynasty of the Roman Empire (the institutional Jewish priesthood, which could trace itself back to Aaron and Moses), but also, with the suicide of Nero, the blotting out of the line of Augustus. The next true emperor of Rome was Vespasian, who was not of the lineage of Augustus. Even his dynasty would not extend past his two sons.

Josephus tells us that in the upheaval surrounding the Temple’s fall, many Jews actually hid in the caves around Jerusalem, just as the sixth seal predicts (6:15).

• The Great Tribulation. Before St. John starts the seventh seal’s recapitulation, he pauses in Chapter 7 to expand on this climactic sixth seal. By now it should be clear to any careful reader that St. John’s vision is following the blueprint of the Olivet Discourse. Jesus assured His disciples that they were on the winning side in the battle with evil, but there would still be a time when their prospects looked bleak. They would suffer from the effects of famine, persecution, and war in the “Great Tribulation.” But then “the Son of man” would come to the “Ancient of Days” and “be presented before Him” to be recognized by all in His kingdom as victorious ruler (Matt. 24:30; Dan. 7:13).

The phrase “Great Tribulation” is used only three times in the New Testament. Jesus used it in the Olivet Discourse, referring to the time when the Roman Empire would sponsor a persecution of Christians just before the Temple’s destruction (sign 5). The other two uses are in The Apocalypse. St. John uses the term in 7:14 just as Jesus did: to refer to the Neronian persecution. Only a severe case of Winkle Warp could place this verse into the future after a secret rapture.

• Four winds and the mark. The sixth seal contains an interesting scene of “four angels standing at the four corners of the land holding back the four winds” (7:1). This is very likely a reference to the four winds of Daniel 7:2 that stir up the gentile nations. These gentile nations, when stirred up, would “harm the land” of Israel. Before these angels are allowed to release the winds of wrath, however, God demands more time to complete the identification of Christ’s followers. No evil will be allowed “till we have sealed the servants of our God upon their foreheads” (7:3). This is the “mark” that was mentioned in the letter to the Church in Philadelphia, in anticipation of the mark of God that would later stand in contrast to the mark of the beast. The fact that God’s servants are sealed with this mark “upon their foreheads” shows that their minds are right. They think as Christians should because their loyalty is to God and His Kingdom.

Just as more time was needed to allow for more martyrs in the fifth seal, in the sixth seal a delay is granted to garner more followers for Christ. These delays are one and the same, not consecutive. The purpose: to gather more Jewish Christians into the Church before the destruction of Jerusalem.

These new Christians would be protected in much the same way that the ancient Hebrews were protected in Egypt when the angel of death decimated the Egyptians. In Egypt, the mark was the physical blood of a lamb that the Hebrews put on their doorposts in obedience to God’s command. Then they fled in haste the next morning. In the Jerusalem Church, the mark most likely refers to the spiritual mark received at Mass. Those in the Jerusalem Church also fled in haste at a moment’s notice. The mark of God’s sacrifice saved them both.

It is an interesting aside that this picture of the four winds and their devastation was a very understandable image to the residents of Jerusalem in the decade before 70 A.D. Four years before the war began with Rome, before even the start of the Great Tribulation, an unnamed Jewish prophet appeared in Jerusalem to warn its residents of their coming destruction. He roamed the streets shouting, “ ‘A voice from the east, a voice from the west, a voice from the four winds, a voice against Jerusalem and the brides, and a voice against this whole people!’ This was his cry, as he went about by day and by night, in all the lanes of the city.” He did this until he was killed in the war after more than seven years of prophesying (WJ, VI, 5:3). Was he a Christian? We really have no way of knowing. Was he a faithful prophet of God? Absolutely. He stood solidly in the tradition of Jeremiah.

• The 144,000. The introduction of the number 144,000 shows again the significance of symbolism to St. John (144,000 is twelve squared times ten cubed.) He writes that this would be the number of Jewish Christians brought into the Church before the fall of the Temple. Notice that it specifically excludes the non-Jewish Christians who have continued to come to Christ since St. Peter opened the door to the Gentiles: “A great multitude which no man could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and tongues” (7:9) were seen entering the Church, praising and worshiping God.

This number need not be exact. Symbolically, it is a very complete number (GR2). Here it represents the complete number of Judean Christians to enter the Church before Jerusalem is destroyed by the unleashing of the four winds; before the gentile nations would come to destroy the Temple.

The vision continues by reminding us that the victory of Christ’s forces is assured. The remainder of Chapter 7 gives us a quick glimpse of the celebration that has continually been occurring in Heaven since the victory of Christ on the Cross. “Salvation belongs to our God who sits upon the throne, and to the Lamb!… Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen” (7:10–12). There will be more descriptions of this celebration later in The Apocalypse. It reflects Heaven’s eternal joy.

At this point in the vision, we have reached the end of the main story of The Apocalypse, the period leading up to the judgment of Jerusalem in 70 A.D. In typical apocalyptic fashion, St. John proceeds to look at the same events from a different perspective. The reader must resist the modern temptation to organize these seals and trumpets chronologically. Remember Daniel’s vision of the statue? The statue events were revisited in the vision of the four beasts, the seventy sevens, and the vision of the end. In this way, Daniel was able to give more detail (GR8).

After bringing the vision to a climax in the sixth seal, St. John links the seals with the trumpets by having the seventh seal contain all seven trumpets. (The last three trumpets are also the three woes.) The trumpets themselves are reminiscent of those that Jesus told us about in the Olivet Discourse. They were to announce His public coming into His kingdom (Matt. 24:31).

That is what this scroll vision is all about. The scroll’s opening reveals the mystery of the Messianic Kingdom. The trumpets describe the same events as the seals do, but from a different perspective. Whereas the six seals view the coming judgment from the perspective of Christ, the trumpets view these events through the eyes of the Sanhedrin. Evidence of this non-Christian perspective is found in the climax of the last trumpet and its woe, announcing the coronation of Christ: “The kingdom of the world has become the Kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ, and He shall reign forever and ever” (11:15). This could be viewed as a “woe” only by an unrepentant unbeliever being judged by the victorious Christ. The masterful use of recapitulation is breathtaking!

An interesting aside revolves around the “prayers of the saints” (8:4–5), shown as having a direct influence on earthly events. These are the same saint/martyrs of the fifth seal. Their prayers are mingled with “much incense.” In the epistle of James we read, “The prayer of a righteous man has great power in its effects” (5:16). This holds true even after the righteous man dies and enters Heaven. This principle anticipates a message of the Millennium that we will encounter in Chapter 20.

• The first trumpet: hail and fire. The first trumpet uses vivid apocalyptic language to describe the effects of the Jewish-Roman War on the land of Israel. All seven trumpets closely parallel the signs that Jesus gave in the Olivet Discourse, particularly in Luke 21.

The first trumpet is followed by “hail and fire, mixed with blood” (8:7). This is a picture of destruction and death beyond the ability of any human to stop; a devastated ecosphere, with “a third of the trees” destroyed (8:7). The Roman army actually used so many trees for their siege engines and their crosses that the area around Jerusalem was completely deforested for miles (WJ, XI).

• The second trumpet: mountain into the sea. At the second trumpet “something like a great mountain, burning with fire, was thrown into the sea” (8:8). This symbolizes the destruction of a monarchy, as does similar language in Amos 1 and 2. The Sanhedrin were the remnant of the Hasmonean dynasty. The priests traced their lineage all the way to Aaron’s day. Nero was of the royal dynasty of Augustus. All were overthrown during this period, Daniel’s last week.

• The third trumpet: poisonous wormwood. Wormwood is not only the third trumpet, but also the name of an extremely bitter plant. “A third of the waters became wormwood, and many men died of the water, because it was made bitter” (8:11). Rapturists try to interpret this bitter water to be the result of a future biochemical or nuclear war. Even the accident at Chernobyl has been read into this trumpet. But a Winkle Warp is not the way to understand this prophecy.

This view fails to appreciate the Old Testament background of this word. The message of the third trumpet reflects the language of Jeremiah 23:15. As is so often the case in the New Testament, a mere word or phrase is meant to evoke an entire scene from the Old Testament (GR3).

Jeremiah lived in a time when Jerusalem was under attack by the Babylonians. He predicted the defeat of Jerusalem. In the middle of a beautiful description of God’s promised Messiah, one who will be a “righteous Branch” that “shall reign as king,” Jeremiah stops to lament the false prophets of Judah (23:5). They were falsely predicting peace and safety when Jeremiah knew Jerusalem would surely fall. The leaders of Jerusalem persecuted Jeremiah as a naysayer. God makes a promise to Jeremiah, telling him that He “will feed them with wormwood, and give them poisoned water to drink” (23:15). A modern equivalent to this idiom might be to say that God would make the false prophets “eat their words.”

The connection to the third trumpet of The Apocalypse is apparent. When the Messiah, the righteous Branch, finally appeared, the Jewish Sanhedrin turned the people of Jerusalem against Him. The Sanhedrin’s leader, the high priest, is the star that “fell from Heaven,” and poisoned the waters (8:10). He led the assault on the Messiah and encouraged the false prophets.

All throughout the Roman siege, the leadership of Jerusalem was predicting the salvation of God for Jerusalem. Josephus tells us that there were many “false prophets suborned by the tyrants to impose on the people [in Jerusalem] … that they should wait for deliverance from God; and this was in order to keep them from deserting, and that they might be buoyed up above fear and care by such hopes” (WJ, VI, 5:2). They believed to the very end that God would defeat the Roman army for them.

The third trumpet bears evidence again that God keeps His promises against false prophets. They will be fed “with wormwood.” The prophets who predicted victory for Jerusalem would have to “eat their words.”

Unfortunately, their false hopes resulted in the unnecessary and brutal deaths of many Jerusalem residents. These residents are split into thirds, and the mention of “a third” here is another example of anticipation (8:11). We will examine its background and fulfillment shortly.

• The fourth trumpet: sun, moon, and stars darkened. The fourth trumpet once again employs vivid apocalyptic imagery to warn of political upheaval (GR5): “A third of the sun was struck, and a third of the moon, and a third of the stars” (8:12). The significance of “a third” is rooted in the Old Testament prophecy of Ezekiel, and we will examine it in more depth in a later passage. Suffice it to say here that this symbolizes the utter defeat of the leadership of Jerusalem. In 70 A.D., biblical Judaism was utterly destroyed and was eventually replaced by the Rabbinic Judaism of today. Rabbinic Judaism finds its home in the synagogue rather than in the Temple, its meaning in the moral law rather than in the sacrificial law, and its leadership in the teacher rather than in the priest.

• The fifth trumpet, first woe: the fallen star and the locusts. The fifth trumpet serves also as the first of three woes, introduced by an eagle (8:13). The eagle was an unclean bird and would have immediately brought the Roman Empire’s army to the mind of any attentive Jewish reader.

With the blowing of the fifth trumpet, St. John “saw a star fallen from Heaven to earth, and he was given the key of the shaft of the bottomless pit” (9:1). Some commentators believe that the star that falls from Heaven is probably Satan. Jesus told the seventy-two disciples on their successful return to Him that He “saw Satan fall like lightning from Heaven” (Luke 10:18; Isa. 14:12–17).

But in apocalyptic writings, stars usually denote earthly, political leaders. The best interpretation is that this fallen star symbolizes either Nero or the Jewish high priest. It could symbolize both (GR4). Nero was responsible for the initial decision to declare war upon Jerusalem. Alternately, the high priest has already been described as a fallen star in the third trumpet. By his misguided leadership, he incited Nero to declare war.

This fallen star unleashes a swarm of locusts with “the power of scorpions” upon Israel (9:3). The word locust literally means “burners of the land.”

Amos 2:1–20 describes the fear and destruction locusts could bring. Locusts were an instrument of God’s judgment on any people who rejected His entreaties. Pharaoh discovered this in Exodus 10:1–20. Here in The Apocalypse we see the plagues that had been unleashed upon the Egyptians being brought upon Jerusalem. God had promised as much to the Israelites if ever they rejected His ways (Deut. 28:38).

The advancing Babylonian army is likened to a swarm of locusts in Joel 2:1–11. That is probably the primary picture drawn here as well. In this instance, it was the Roman army that would devour the land like an invasion of locusts, just as the Babylonians had done centuries earlier (GR6).

The detailed description of this locust army is quite obviously that of the Roman cavalry in battle armor under the bright Judean sun: “The locusts were like horses arrayed for battle; on their heads were what looked like crowns of gold; their faces were like human faces, their hair like women’s hair … teeth like lions’ teeth; they had scales like iron breastplates, and the noise of their wings was like the noise of many chariots with horses rushing into battle” (9:7–9).

The only description that does not sound like a human army on horseback is the description of “teeth.” Of course, the fourth beast of Daniel (Rome) had iron teeth. More specifically, the reference to “teeth like lions’ teeth” recalls Joel 1:4–6. Joel prophesied the judgment of God upon Israel, and St. John subtly reminds us that this is exactly what is occurring in this trumpet (Joel 2:2).

What makes this locust army particularly frightful is its purpose. They would not “harm the grass,” as most locusts would. This invading locust army would prey upon “those of mankind who have not the seal of God upon their foreheads” (9:4). This is the mark of God already mentioned in the sixth seal.

During this trumpet, we encounter the first of several specific time references. This scorpion army would torment the Jews for five months, which was the length of the season in Israel for these insects (May to September). Those are precisely the months during which Titus completed his final assault upon and siege of Jerusalem in 70 A.D.

This locust army brings with them the “torture of a scorpion”—not merely death, but “torture.” Read St. John’s description carefully: “Their torture was like the torture of a scorpion, when it stings a man. And in those days, men will seek death and will not find it; they will long to die, and death will fly from them” (9:5–6). This was written by a man who had witnessed the Crucifixion of his Savior up close (John 19:25–27). The locust army stung like scorpions in the hand and foot by using the nails of crucifixion. Imagine the hills around Jerusalem completely filled with Jews being crucified; that was the scene during the final five months of the siege. During these five months, well over one million Jews died, many of them from crucifixion. This passage describes the horrific judgment that fell upon Jerusalem for its rejection of the Messianic Kingdom. It is not a future event.

These locusts have a king, who is “the angel of the bottomless pit” (9:11). As we will see with other symbols in The Apocalypse, this beast serves as a symbol for more than one person. In its broadest sense, the beast symbolizes the Roman Empire’s government. This should not surprise us at all if we remember Daniel. He predicted four beasts. The fourth one symbolized Rome. Yet in a specific sense, some of what this beast does points directly to the individual Caesar ruling at that particular time. There were three during this period: Nero, Vespasian, and Titus (GR4).

When we compare the descriptions of the king of the locust army (9:11), the beast that kills the two witnesses (11:7), and the beast with seven heads that “was, and is not, and is to come” (17:8), we can determine that this king “of the bottomless pit” is General Titus. We will return to this later when we examine Chapter 17.

The name of the army’s king, Abaddon, literally means “destruction.” This Hebrew word leads the careful student to Obadiah 12. In the Old Testament, the elder son of Isaac, Esau by name, was denied the promises of God’s blessing. The younger son, Jacob, was blessed instead. Esau and his descendants (Edomites, or Idumeans) deeply resented this, and so would later revel in the persecution of Jacob and his descendants (Israelites). But the prophet Obadiah promised a day of reckoning, of abaddon, to the Edomites. Obadiah spoke judgment against the Edomites, because they gloated over the destruction of the Israelites.

Obadiah chastises the Edomites: “You should not have gloated over … your brother in the day of his misfortune; you should not have rejoiced … in the day of their ruin; you should not have boasted in the day of distress” (Obad. 12). In fact, the Edomites cooperated with the Arabians and Philistines when they plundered the home of Israel’s king. The conquering army carried off all of the royal sons except one (2 Chron. 21). Obadiah prophesied to the Edomites that “as you have done, it shall be done to you; your deeds shall return on your own head” (Obad. 15).

These events stand as prophecy pointing to 70 A.D. (GR3). The Sanhedrin had reveled in the persecution of this young sect called Christianity. They were the elder brother (Esau and Edom) in the family of faith, while the Christians were the younger brother (Jacob and Israel). But by their persecution of their younger brothers, they had turned their advantage into a curse. The Messiah’s coming in judgment through the Roman army would constitute their “day of the Lord” (GR6). “Abaddon” had arrived.

• The sixth trumpet, second woe: invasion by a great army. When the sixth trumpet blows, we find four angels have been waiting—reflecting the four angels in the sixth seal. They “had been held ready for the hour, the day, the month, and the year, to kill a third of mankind” (9:15). Might the holding back of the four angels be a reference to the prediction of Jesus that His followers would be given a small window of opportunity to flee Jerusalem? It is a historical fact that the Christian community heeded the warning of their Lord and that no Christians remained in Jerusalem during its final siege and destruction. The destruction had to wait; it “had been held ready for the hour, the day, the month, and the year.” Remember that at the beginning of the seals and the trumpets, only the Lamb was able to break the seal of the scroll. Even now He controls the flow of events. One moment too soon would not do. Jesus had a promise to keep, down to the exact hour of the exact day.

This trumpet unleashes the gentile horde. Even the ancient protective boundary of the Euphrates will not impede the advance of the locusts, the Roman army (9:13–14). The details of the invasion extend all the way through 11:14.

The size of the army is almost universally understood as a symbolic number. The “cavalry” alone is “twice ten thousand times ten thousand” (9:16). If taken literally, that would be two hundred million! Since the cavalry is a small percentage of an army, imagine the size of the army itself! Clearly, no army that size could have existed in the ancient world. Some have calculated that it would encompass every eligible male alive even today. It makes better sense as a symbolic number.

Significantly, this cavalry is exactly double the size of “ten thousand times ten thousand,” the number who attend to the Lamb as they “encircled the throne” (5:11, NIV). That is the crucial issue for St. John. The number of God is three, and man’s number is twice that, six. The army of man is twice the size of God’s loyal following, even in Heaven.

On an earthly level, the locust army outnumbers the Lamb’s loyal following. It is a complete army of ten thousand, multiplied by another of the same size, and then doubled for good measure. It is an overwhelming force. Any thought of victory against this force is ludicrous. Indeed, when the Jews saw the size of the army that Vespasian and Titus had actually mustered, much of the Jewish army deserted in despair (WJ, III, 6:3).

But even with all this, there is still a group “who were not killed by these plagues [and] did not repent of the works of their hands nor give up worshiping demons” (9:20). This is the remnant, loipos, that will appear later in the book. St. John mentions them here in anticipation. In Daniel’s previous vision, they were called the “wicked.” Josephus calls them the “scum.” Historically, we know them as the “outlaw Zealots.” We will eventually learn what happens to these men who refused to “repent of their murders or their sorceries or their immorality or their thefts” (9:21). It is not a pretty picture.

Like the climactic sixth seal, the sixth trumpet has many details. A powerful angel now unleashes seven thunders, but St. John is not permitted to write these details for us. How ironic: Jesus’ nickname for John and his brother was boanerges, or “sons of thunder” (Mark 3:17), yet John is forbidden to tell more about these seven thunders.

At this point, an angel announces that when the seventh trumpet is sounded, “the mystery of God, as He announced to His servants the prophets, should be fulfilled” (10:7). We have not arrived at the seventh trumpet; this is another example of anticipation. We will wait until we arrive at the seventh trumpet to discuss this “mystery of God.” It is the message of the scroll, the mystery of Christ’s Kingdom, that will be revealed for the entire world to see when the seals are all opened.

St. John is instructed to eat a second scroll, a little scroll, from the hand of a powerful angel, and he says, “It was sweet as honey in my mouth, but when I had eaten it, my stomach was made bitter” (10:10). This is a clear reference to the scroll of Ezekiel that contained “words of lamentation and mourning and woe” (Ezek. 2:8–3:14). At first blush, the deliverance of the Church from the Great Tribulation was a sweet prospect. But the result of that deliverance was the destruction of St. John’s kinsmen and hometown.

We now encounter the second specific time reference in The Apocalypse. This one will be repeated. We read that Jerusalem, “the holy city,” will be trampled for forty-two months (11:2). This is the biblical period of judgment, as is evidenced as far back as the prophet Elijah, who withheld rain from Israel for three and a half years.

These forty-two months are still within the sixth trumpet. The trampling is made possible because the protective river Euphrates has dried up. The trampling will be accomplished by the locust army of “two hundred million” cavalry.

This specific period is identical to the “one thousand two hundred and sixty days” during which the “two witnesses” of prophesy (11:3). We see this period when the woman flees from Satan (12:6, 14). It appears again when the beast is given “authority” over Israel for “forty-two months” (13:5). Remember Daniel? This same three and a half years appeared in Visions III:A and III:E.

While most of the numbers in apocalyptic literature are round, significant numbers, such as three, seven, or ten (or multiples of these numbers), the four references to this period are not, so they possess the aura of actual historical time (GR2). And when we examine history, we find a precise fulfillment of these forty-two months in the three-and-a-half-year Jewish-Roman War.

The repetition of the time reference in four visionary contexts gives further evidence to the position that the visions of Daniel are not to be viewed chronologically. They look at the same events and periods from different perspectives (GR8).

It is no wonder this sixth trumpet was considered the “second woe” by the Jewish leadership. “The nations … will trample over the holy city for forty-two months” (11:2). The picture of Jerusalem being overrun by pagan Gentiles is lifted from the teaching of Jesus in the Olivet Discourse. Jesus prophesied that “Jerusalem will be trodden down by the Gentiles, until the times of the Gentiles are fulfilled” (Luke 21:24).

This picture can be found in the Old Testament as well. Jesus was expanding on Daniel’s visions. Daniel had seen a gentile nation trample the holy places of the Jews. He witnessed the Babylonians as they conquered Jerusalem and carried off all the holy vessels within the Temple. This defeat was a fulfillment of Isaiah 63:18.

But that was not the last time the Temple would be desecrated. During the time of the Maccabean Wars, Antiochus Epiphanes defiled the Temple by entering its walls and even sacrificing a pig on its altar. This was foretold by Daniel (8:13–14; 11:31). That overrunning of the Temple’s holy places lasted for 1,150 days (2,300 evenings and mornings). It ended with the victories of Judas Maccabee, and that victory is still celebrated today as the Jewish holiday of Hanukkah.

During the time of Jesus, Jewish commentators claimed that Antiochus would be the last to desecrate the Temple as foretold by Daniel, but Jesus specifically taught otherwise. In the Olivet Discourse, Jesus referred to “the desolating sacrilege spoken of by the prophet Daniel” as a future event (Matt. 24:15). Although the Antiochan insult would last 1,150 days, and was in the past by the time Jesus spoke in the Olivet Discourse, the sacrilege that Jesus foretold best fits the details of Daniel 9:27 and 12:11. As we saw in Daniel, this period of judgment spans three and a half years.

So we have come full circle in the entire scope of our examination of the Old and New Testaments. The three and a half years that appear in Daniel, and are described in the Olivet Discourse, are now mentioned in the sixth trumpet. By using this time reference four times in Chapters 11 and 12 of The Apocalypse, St. John effectively emphasizes that these events all occur within the three and a half years that Daniel and Jesus predicted.

Jesus had prophesied that this judgment would occur within the lifetime of His hearers: “This generation will not pass away till all these things take place” (Matt. 24:34). By referencing the Luke passage, we can determine that these forty-two months are “the times of the Gentiles” (Luke 21:24). St. John writes that, during these forty-two months, the Gentiles “will trample over the holy city” (11:2).

According to Josephus, the daily sacrifice dedicated to Nero in the Temple in Jerusalem was halted in July of 66 A.D. (WJ, II, 17:2). This Jewish provocation led to the declaration of war by Rome in February of 67 A.D. (WJ, III, 1:2). The war ended precisely forty-two months later when the Temple was burned by Titus’s troops in August of 70 A.D. Daniel predicted these things more than six centuries earlier, Jesus predicted them four decades earlier, and St. John expands on their prophecies. The Jewish-Roman War might have already started by the time St. John wrote, but was not anywhere near a resolution.

There are more important events during this sixth trumpet. During the trampling by the Gentiles, there will be two witnesses who prophesy for God. They are described as the “two olive trees and the two lampstands which stand before the Lord of the earth” (11:4). This description should tell us that they may not be just normal human beings.

The identity of the two witnesses in 11:3–14 has been much debated: the Law and the Prophets, Moses and Elijah, Peter and Paul, the Prophets and the Apostles, and Zerubbabel and Joshua have all been proposed.

The symbolism is definitely taken from Zechariah 4, where Joshua the priest and Zerubbabel the ruler are described in similar fashion. But the Old Testament events are meant to foreshadow the New Testament (GR3). These witnesses might also represent the ministries of Sts. Peter and Paul. They were both killed by the beast, when they were martyred in Rome during the Great Tribulation. Anyone who has done his homework in Daniel would expect the beast to be nothing other than Rome. But Peter and Paul were martyred before these 1,260 days began.

The best interpretation of the witnesses seems to be as symbols for the Law and the Prophets. If we remember the vision of the battle strategy of the beast in Daniel 7 (III:A), this will not surprise us. Daniel informed us that the little horn, Nero, would make war on the times and the law for three and a half years. This was the first time we encountered the forty-two months. The times and law that Daniel mentions are the parallel of the two witnesses.

As we have seen with the beast, and will see again, St. John also had the personification of the Law and the Prophets in mind. Moses and Elijah serve as the personification of all that the Law and the Prophets represented. St. John uses this literary technique enough that we can be sure of this (GR4).

Moses and Elijah were the two most important men in each of their respective roles. Moses gave Israel the Law, and Elijah was the epitome of God’s prophet. Elijah prophesied during a similar three-and-a-half-year period of judgment in the Old Testament. The powers attributed to these two witnesses in The Apocalypse recall the high points of the careers of Moses and Elijah. “They have power to shut the sky, that no rain may fall during the days of their prophesying, and they have power over the waters to turn them into blood, and to smite the land with every plague,” and even the power to breathe life back into the dead (11:6).

At this point in his vision, St. John does something noteworthy. While his book is apocalyptic literature, and much of that literature is vividly symbolic, St. John specifically points out the allegorical nature of his language in this vision (11:8). Nowhere else in The Apocalypse does he remind us that he is writing allegorically. So in this vision especially we must not expect too literal a fulfillment. In fact, we will find that this section of The Apocalypse has the least “literal” fulfillment.

So how were the events surrounding these two witnesses fulfilled? As long as the Temple stood, the Mosaic system gave voice to the Law and the Prophets. They witnessed against the paganism of both the Romans and the unfaithful Jews. This witness annoyed many Romans.

The Law and the Prophets were killed by the beast when biblical Judaism was destroyed forever by the Roman army in 70 A.D. The world would have thought that, at the burning of the Temple, they could forget about this Law that prohibited the worship of the Roman emperor. When the Temple was destroyed, the world would have thought that the prophets who condemned their selfish lifestyles and immoral practices had been silenced forever. After all, the earthly center of Judaism was destroyed. Surely Judaism, and even this small sect within Judaism (the common view of Christianity at the time) would dissipate when Jerusalem was eliminated. Pagan Rome was so overjoyed that people made “merry and exchange[d] presents” (11:10). But the world was wrong to think that God’s Truth could be silenced by war.

The Law and the Prophets came back to life. Even now they continue to proclaim their message of moral uprightness and godly worship within the heavenly city of the New Jerusalem, which is the Church. God’s New Covenant was beyond the reach of armies. They “went up to Heaven in a cloud” (11:12). The heavenly city of God is a theme that St. John develops in some detail later. Heaven is the location of the New Jerusalem at this point in The Apocalypse. The use of a cloud speaks of their more glorious associations in the New Covenant. We participate in that glory in the Mass.

From this point forward, the message of the Law and the Prophets is beyond the power of earthly kingdoms to silence. That is the significance of their being protected in Heaven. They continue to bear witness against the evil of emperor worship and immoral lifestyles from their home in the New Jerusalem, the Church. This is the significance of St. John Chrysostom’s comment: “The Romans conquered countless thousands of Jews, but could not overcome twelve unarmed, unprotected men” (HOM, LXXXVI).

The early Church assiduously used the Jewish Law and Prophets of the Old Testament (the Scriptures) to point people to Christ (Acts 1:16, 8:35, 17:2, 17:11, 18:28; Rom. 1:2–3; 1 Cor. 15:3–4). The situation became so distressful to the Jewish rabbis that they revised the list of the canon a few decades after the fall of Jerusalem, and some very Messianic books of the Old Testament were demoted to deuterocanonical status. The irony of the situation is that this revision by the Jewish scholars in about 90 A.D. gave the Protestants an excuse to delete some of the books of the Bible that they found distressing almost fifteen centuries later.

Yet the Church continued to use the Law and the Prophets as an apologetical tool. It was very effective, for the simple reason that Christ really was to be found in the Old Testament (GR1). Through the efforts of the early Church, the Law and the Prophets really did rise again to bear witness to God’s undefeated Truth.

The theme of the two witnesses will later be counterbalanced with the two evil beasts in Chapter 13 of The Apocalypse. This theme will then be complemented by the two women: a good woman in Chapter 12 and an evil one in Chapter 17. We will see the same dual symbolism that St. John used with the two witnesses. The characters symbolize an entity or group of people, but also point to a particular individual as representative (GR4).

The witnesses were dead for three and a half days, or half a week, while the Roman world celebrated. It is only slightly longer than the three days that Jesus was in the grave. The time of Israel’s trial was three and a half years, or half of a week of years (GR2). In a fraction of the time it had taken to silence the Old Covenant, the Law and the Prophets were promoted to a City the world could not defeat with armies. It did not take long at all for the empire to realize that it had not permanently silenced the Truth. This is a major theme that rings throughout The Apocalypse: God’s Truth will reign eternally triumphant from this point forward.

This all occurs within the sixth trumpet, which we know extends for three and a half years. Now St. John gives us a major event by which to date this vision within history. If you are unsure of our analysis, here is a reality check. When did the voice of the Old Testament witnesses transfer to the Church? “At that hour there was a great earthquake, and a tenth of the city fell; seven thousand people were killed in the earthquake” (11:13; GR5).

The Temple occupied about a tenth of the land within Jerusalem. We know when this tenth of the city fell: in August of 70 A.D. On the day the Temple was torched, a large number of Jews also died. Seven thousand—ten cubed, multiplied by seven—is a symbolically large number. Yet when the outlaw Zealots were defeated in the Temple, they shifted their defensive stand to the royal palace, slaughtering in cold blood 8,400 Jews who had taken refuge there (WJ, VI, 7:1). Yes, they slaughtered their own kinsmen, a shaking of all that was considered important within the holy bloodline of Judaism. Even today, this killing of Jew by Jew is referred to as the sinat hinam that precipitated the defeat of the Temple.

By this point, it should be obvious why Victorinus and St. Augustine believed these visions recapitulated one another. This earthquake illustrates again that these visions are not chronological. There was an earthquake in the sixth seal that exactly mirrors this earthquake in the sixth trumpet (6:12 and 11:13; GR8).

The specific location in which these two witnesses are killed is now identified. All of these events transpire in “the great city which is allegorically called Sodom and Egypt, where their Lord was crucified” (11:8). This city is obviously Jerusalem. First, it is the location of Christ’s Crucifixion, and second, the term “great city” is used elsewhere in reference to Jerusalem. Josephus uses the term as well (WJ, VII, 8:7).

St. John uses the allegorical names Sodom and Egypt for Jerusalem. Perhaps it is to protect himself and his readers in case his manuscript were to fall into the hands of the authorities. Perhaps it is merely because his book is apocalyptic. But it should not surprise us, because it is not an innovation. Jerusalem is allegorically called both Sodom and its sister city, Gomorrah, in the Old Testament (Isa. 1:10; Jer. 23:14; Ezek. 16:48).

St. John does not just spring this on the reader, however. As he does so often throughout his work, he has anticipated this theme. In two of the letters to the churches, Christ refers to the “synagogue of Satan,” while warning the Church to prepare for a period of suffering. St. John has let us know that the Jewish leaders were persecuting the Christians. Of course, this was not news to the original readers, since they were living under that very persecution. But the alert reader of the first three chapters would expect the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem to be among the Church’s persecutors during the Great Tribulation.

As we progress in the book, we must keep our minds alert to other allegorical names for Jerusalem that equate it with evils of which other ancient peoples were guilty. Sodom’s primary sin was its blatant disregard for God’s moral law. Egypt’s leaders sinned by trying to keep God’s people in bondage, denying them the freedom to worship. This parallels the actions of the Sanhedrin in 68 A.D.

During this vignette, we are subtly introduced to a new character in The Apocalypse. He is “the beast that ascends from the bottomless pit” (11:7). We will see more of evil beasts shortly. This is another example of St. John’s use of anticipation.

• The seventh trumpet, third woe: the Kingdom comes. The seventh and last trumpet is also the third and last woe. The seventh angel with his trumpet declares, “The kingdom of the world has become the Kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ, and He shall reign forever and ever” (11:15). This phrase and its meaning are so well known to us that it is easy to forget that during the sixth trumpet, this was identified as the mystery of God: “In the days of the trumpet call to be sounded by the seventh angel, the mystery of God, as He announced to His servants the prophets, should be fulfilled” (10:7).

What is this mystery of God being fulfilled in The Apocalypse? In all of the Gospels, Jesus refers to a “mystery” (or “secret”) only once. In all three synoptic Gospels this mystery is put into the same context (Matt. 13:11; Mark 4:11; Luke 8:10). It is the mystery of what the Kingdom of the Messiah would really be like. It would not be the physical, political, conquering power for which the Jewish leadership had hoped. No, the Messianic Kingdom would be an interior kingdom—the rule of an omnipotent Christ within the lives and hearts of men and women all over the world. For this reason, it would never be defeated or uprooted, as Daniel had foretold in his visions of the statue and the beasts. Because it was a spiritual rule, no unbeliever would be able to enter it, as Zechariah had stated at the end of his oracles (Appendix Three).

The spiritual aspect of the Kingdom of the Messiah was a theme throughout much of the Old Testament prophets. Jesus even reminds His disciples that “many prophets and righteous men longed to see what you see, and did not see it” (Matt. 13:17). Even at the moment of death, Christ emphasized to an unbelieving Pilate that His was a spiritual Kingdom: “My kingship is not of this world; if my kingship were of this world, my servants would fight, that I might not be handed over to the Jews; but my kingship is not from the world.… For this I have come into the world, to bear witness to the truth” (John 18:36–37).

If you look for Jesus’ teaching on what the Messiah’s Kingdom would be like, you will see the obvious silhouette of the Church. The parable of the sower and the soils teaches that entrance to the Kingdom is open to all, but dependent on a personal response to the “word” (Matt. 13:3–23). The public encounter with His family reveals that, in the Kingdom, what matters is no longer a holy bloodline, but doing “the will of my Father in Heaven” (Matt. 12:50). In the parable of the weeds and the wheat, Jesus explains that His Kingdom will have loyal, obedient subjects mingled with the evil and traitorous. Even though His servants recognize this, they are to leave the final judgment to Christ (Matt. 13:24–30, 36–43). This lesson is so important that it is reiterated in the parable of the fishes (Matt. 13:47–51).

In another parable, the mustard seed is a picture of how the Kingdom will be small and hidden in the beginning, yet contain within itself all things necessary to grow into a huge and fruitful tree (Matt. 13:31–32). This is the fulfillment of Daniel’s stone growing into a mountain. This reflects precisely the development of the Church. The Catechism clearly teaches that “The Church was catholic [i.e., having correct and complete confession of faith, full sacramental life, and ordained ministry in apostolic succession] on the day of Pentecost and will always be so until the day of the Parousia” (CCC, par. 830).

This growth that starts with a small beginning is re-emphasized in the parable of the leaven: it starts out small and invisible, but slowly and surely it changes the very nature of the dough. Just so, the Church does not rule the world as a political entity, but through the unseen process of changing men’s hearts (Matt. 13:33–35). Finally, Jesus gives His disciples two parables to hammer home the idea that His Kingdom, although it would not be visible on the worldly scene at first, would be worth the nurture, effort, and sacrifice. These are the parables of the hidden treasure and the pearl of great value (Matt. 13:44–46).

So the Kingdom of God that Christ offered was radically different from what the Jewish Sanhedrin desired, even though it was in perfect harmony with the Old Testament prophecies. The Jewish leaders were yearning for the good old days; they wanted a return to the thousand-year dynasty of David, with its political power and military muscle. As a result, they missed the unifying theme of the four major prophets: Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel.

Because Christ’s kingdom would be internal, it would supersede ethnic and national distinctions. Jew and Gentile would be accepted on an equal footing. This teaching is integral to the message of the later prophets of the Old Testament. Isaiah prophesied that God would gather His believers from all the nations of the world, and “some of them also I will take for priests and for Levites, says the Lord” (66:21). Isaiah was teaching that these newcomer Gentiles would be accepted on a par with the most worthy of the Jews. I am sure that turned some heads in Isaiah’s day! The Jewish leaders of Jesus’ day seem to have forgotten this promise. The make-up of Christ’s Church, with Jew and Gentile at peace as equals, was a mystery in the Old Covenant.

The Church’s Liturgy connects this prophecy of Isaiah with the teaching of Jesus in Luke. Jesus proclaimed publicly to His Jewish listeners, “You will weep and gnash your teeth, when you see Abraham … in the Kingdom of God and you yourselves thrust out. And men will come from east and west, and from north and south, and sit at table in the Kingdom of God. And behold, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last” (13:28–30). The Sanhedrin rejected this vision of the Kingdom, so they were left out.

St. Paul did not reject this mystery, but embraced it enthusiastically. In Colossians he writes, “This mystery … is Christ in you, the hope of glory” (1:27). In whom was Christ? He dwelt in the gentile Christians of Colossae. St. Paul devotes an entire section of his letter to the Roman church (chs. 9–11) to this mystery. In Romans 10:12–13, he drives the point home. “The scripture says, ‘No one who believes in Him will be put to shame.’ For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; the same Lord is Lord of all and bestows His riches upon all who call upon Him. For, ‘everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved’ ” (note also Rom. 11:25).

The apostles became the “stewards of the mysteries of God” (1 Cor. 4:1). To put it succinctly, the sum of “the mysteries of God” throughout the ages was that the Kingdom of the Jewish Messiah would be the Church! To think that the Kingdom of the Son of David would not be political, but ecclesiastical; not physical, but spiritual; not ethnic, but personal. To think that, because of the very nature of the Kingdom, a Gentile could be accepted alongside the descendants of Abraham. To think that a master would be no more privileged in this Kingdom than his slave. To think that women and men would be equals in dignity in the Kingdom. But more than anything else, to think that Jews and Gentiles would eat together at one Table. The celebration of the Eucharist by the New Testament Church did more to proclaim the gospel than anything else ever could!

All of these conclusions flowed logically and inexorably from the major premise that Jesus taught His disciples: His Kingdom would not be “of this world” (cf. John 18:36). His would be a spiritual Kingdom within the hearts of human beings, working outward from there. His would be an ecclesiastical Kingdom.

This was the message the world was to glean from the destruction of the Temple. “In the days of … the seventh angel, the mystery of God, as He announced to His servants the prophets, should be fulfilled” (10:7). This was the hidden message of the scroll whose seven seals are opened in this initial vision. The Kingdom of Christ is not physically a part of political Judaism. It does not depend on Jerusalem or its Temple. Rather, it extends an invitation to all men and women who desire communion with the one true God.

Was this really such a mystery? Absolutely! Although every Catholic communicant probably understands this well, the Jewish leaders never quite caught on to what the Kingdom was to be like. In fact, even today, there is a group of Christians who do not seem to understand the mystery: that the Messiah came to set up a spiritual Kingdom, and that He was not and never will be interested in ruling the world as an earthly potentate enthroned in Jerusalem. Such Christians are called rapturists.

This was the thrust of Dr. Walvoord’s quotation early in this book. He is the leading, living proponent of rapturist theology, yet he admits that the pretribulationalism (the rapture theology we have been examining) is not taught anywhere in Scripture. Today’s rapturists insist on the same physical Messianic Kingdom that the leaders of Jerusalem did because their view of the Church demands a return of ethnic Israel into the center of God’s plan.

Once again we see that eschatology is closely tied to ecclesiology. Our theology of the end times is inextricably bound to our theology of the Church. So how do average rapturists view the Church? They believe that it is not the zenith of God’s plan throughout the ages or even anticipated in the Old Testament. They call it rather a “parenthesis” in God’s eternal plan—a temporary stand-in for Old Covenant Israel. They believe that the Jews’ rejection of the Messiah in His first advent forced God to initiate “Plan B.” So God is left with two plans, the one foretold in the Old Testament for the Jews, and the last-minute substitute that became the Church. “Most premillenarians … would agree that a new covenant has been provided for the church, but not the new covenant for Israel” (TMK, 214). Because the original plan with its Messianic Kingdom could not be established without the Jews’ approval, God set up the Church for a couple of thousand years, waiting for the right time to offer His Kingdom to the Jews again.

That is the purpose of the future seven-year Great Tribulation: to prod the Jewish people into accepting their Messiah. It will do nothing for the Church, which will already have been raptured to the safety of Heaven—put forever onto the back burner of God’s eternal plan. Those Jews who “accept Christ” during the Great Tribulation and the Millennium will never become a part of the Church. Rather, they will remain an eternally separate, chosen Israel.

One major reason rapturists insist that a tribulation and millennium are necessary is God’s supposed failure to make good on His physical promises to Abraham. Abraham was promised that his kingdom would extend “from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates” (Gen. 15:18). Rapturists claim that this has never been fulfilled, but the Bible tells us another story. At the pinnacle of the Davidic kingdom, King Solomon dedicated the Temple he built to God, and he claimed that this promise had already been fulfilled in his lifetime! In fact, he blessed the people of Israel by saying, “Blessed be the Lord … not one word has failed of all His good promise” (1 Kings 8:56).

According to rapturists, the Millennium will be the Messianic Kingdom that God had promised to David but never delivered. Ignoring the scriptures that indicate that the physical promises have already been fulfilled, they believe that Jesus must physically rule from an earthly throne in the Middle East.

As hard as this is to imagine, rapturists believe that during this reign of Jesus in Jerusalem, the Temple will be in operation again. Hal Lindsey opines, “Obstacle or no obstacle, it is certain that the Temple will be rebuilt. Prophecy demands it” (LGP, 56). This means that even its sacrificial system of animal sacrifices must be reinstituted.

But this does not conform with the New Testament writers’ view of the Church: as the fulfillment of all the Old Testament prophecies about the heavenly Jerusalem and the new Temple. As the Old Testament progressed, the prophets revealed more and more that the promises of God pointed to an everlasting, spiritual reign, rather than a merely physical kingdom. The spiritual graces we enjoy in the Church are the sum of all that God has been working toward in this world since the sin of Adam. In fact, St. Justin and Tertullian are not unique in teaching that the Church is the whole reason the world, along with Adam and Eve and everyone since, was ever created in the first place (TSV, II:4; ACR, II:7; APO, XXXI:3, XXXII:1)!

Have we lost sight of where we were in The Apocalypse? The angel informed us in the sixth trumpet that there would be “no more delay.” This mystery of God must soon be revealed for all to see. The powerful angel predicts that when the seventh trumpet is sounded, the “mystery of God, as He announced to His servants the prophets, should be fulfilled” (10:7).

It has now been sounded, and the voices in Heaven proclaim, “The kingdom of the world has become the Kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ, and He shall reign forever and ever” (11:15). At the seventh trumpet, the New Covenant has publicly and unmistakably superseded the Old Covenant. This is one of the major messages of The Apocalypse: that the Old Jerusalem, with its sacrifices and rules, must make way, permanently and visibly, for the public establishment of the New Jerusalem. It is the picture of what St. Paul promised in Galatians.

And so it was in 70 A.D., if we follow the chronology given by Christ in the Olivet Discourse. When the Temple fell, it became obvious even to pagan Rome that Christianity was not a sect within Judaism. The Church was free to grow unencumbered by the baggage of the Old Covenant sacrifices being performed daily in the Temple in Jerusalem. The mystery of the Church was free to be fulfilled in the sight of all.

The Apostles understood the pre-eminence of Christ’s Church on the day of Pentecost. In Heaven it was understood from before the foundation of the world and completely accomplished with the Passion. We saw Heaven celebrating the Kingdom’s establishment back in the initial vision, before the very first seal. But the public establishment of the mystery of Christ’s Church became evident to non-Christians with the events of 70 A.D. The stone of Daniel’s vision had arrived and destroyed the statue of earthly kingdoms, and now everyone could see it.

This seventh angel, who announces the Kingdom to the world, is a parallel to the angels in the Olivet Discourse: “He will send out His angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather His elect from the four winds” (Matt. 24:31). At this point, the gospel message has been proclaimed throughout the civilized world. The mystery of Christ’s Kingdom is evident for all who care to notice. Now, after its dispersal and persecution, it is time for the spiritual revival of the young Church. After the public demise of the Old Covenantal system, the New Covenant could flourish unimpeded by confusion or mixed loyalties. Daniel’s time of covenantal transition has run its course and fulfilled its purpose.

We have now completed the initial vision: all seven seals, all seven trumpets, all seven thunders, and all three woes.

St. John used the seals and trumpets to give us a double look at the fall of the Temple in Jerusalem—first from the perspective of Christ, and then from that of the Sanhedrin. In so doing, he has mimicked Daniel. Daniel’s initial vision is about the statue: the ancient empires viewed from the king’s perspective. The first recapitulating vision of Daniel (the four warlike beasts) views the same empires from the perspective of the conquered. St. John has used both of these perspectives in his initial vision.

Now that we have finished the initial vision, ask yourself, “Is there really anything in this vision that was not already fulfilled in the events surrounding 70 A.D.?” Admittedly, St. John’s descriptions are vivid, but undoubtedly there has already been an adequate fulfillment in the events of the Temple’s destruction. And that is not the only problem for rapturists. Remember that before we examined The Apocalypse, we determined that there is no biblical evidence for a future seven-year Great Tribulation at all! Without it, there is no need for a secret rapture, so it is not surprising that we could find no biblical evidence for that event either. Even rapturists do not claim to be able to find any mention of their secret rapture in these first eleven chapters of The Apocalypse.

Take a deep breath and congratulate yourself. St. John’s first vision is completed. If you understand The Apocalypse through Chapter 11, you are over the hump. The mystery of the Kingdom has been revealed to the world. The remaining visions will recapitulate this initial vision, and some will extend all the way to the final eschaton.

Following Daniel’s outline, however, St. John will first insert a section that will focus more closely on the three key personalities behind the drama of Daniel’s final week of covenantal transition. This personality section provides the background for the rest of The Apocalypse.

The activities of these three personalities span the entire last week of Daniel, which encompasses seven decades. It should not surprise us that Daniel covered the events of three key personalities as well: the Kings Nebuchadnezzar, Belshazzar, and Darius. St. John will tell us the history of the Child, the Woman, and the dragon.

The first key personality of Daniel’s seventieth week is “a male Child, one who is to rule all the nations with a rod of iron” (12:5). The idea of ruling with a rod of iron comes from Psalms 2:9, which is generally accepted as a Messianic psalm pointing to Jesus. This Child who will rule with a “rod of iron” is identified in a later vision as “the Word of God” and “King of kings, and Lord of lords” (19:13, 16). The birth of the Child initiates the beginning of Daniel’s seventieth week.

There can be no doubt that the Child is Jesus Christ. That is the overwhelming view of all scholars. Further evidence that the Child symbolizes Jesus is that the “Child was caught up to God and to His throne.” This language is reminiscent of how the Scriptures have described the Ascension of Christ in Mark 16:19, Luke 24:51, and Acts 1:9.

The second key personality of these seven decades is a Woman. In the heavenly Temple, the ark appears as “a Woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars” (12:1). Like the two witnesses (11:3), the Woman symbolizes both a group and one specific person who ideally represents that group (GR4).

• Mary. Everything said about the Woman is true of one person, and some of what St. John writes about the Woman is true of no one in all of history but that one person: Mary, the Blessed Mother of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Of course, this makes perfect sense, since, in the vision, the Woman’s identity is inextricably tied to her motherhood. If the Child of the Woman is Jesus, the Woman must be Jesus’ Mother.

Perhaps we read the end of the seventh trumpet so quickly that we missed something. St. John saw “the ark of His covenant … within His Temple” in Heaven (11:19). The Old Covenant ark resided in the Temple’s holy of holies (Exod. 26:33). There, between its two cherubim, God took up His abode with His people. In St. John’s vision, however, there are two temples: the one on earth about to be destroyed, and the one in Heaven, which will endure forever.

The Temple St. John sees is in Heaven, and then he immediately notices a “Woman clothed with the sun.” This is the Woman who bore the Child. Her womb nurtured the God-man before His birth. This makes her the perfect “ark of His covenant.” Mary is the ark of the New Jerusalem Temple.

So both Scripture and Church history point to one and only one woman at this point: Mary, the Mother of Jesus. She is the Ark of the New Covenant. No one, absolutely no one, other than Mary fits this description.

Some rapturists, along with other Protestants, are very uncomfortable with Mary, especially the idea of her being enthroned in some role of authority in Heaven. They seem to think it is a doctrine the Church “invented” relatively recently. But this is not true. This teaching concerning Mary goes back to the earliest of the Church Fathers.

In fact, it can be traced back even further than that. Like virtually all the psalms, Psalm 45 is replete with Messianic overtones. Verse 9 speaks of the queen standing at the “right hand” of her King, her Son. The context of Psalm 45 makes it rather clear this is the King’s mother, not His daughter or wife. This can be taken as a small glimpse into the Messiah’s throne room in Heaven (cf. 1 Kings 2:19). Mary sits in Heaven in a place of honor because her Son is the King (cf. Songs 6:9–10).

• The Church. At the same time, the symbolism of the woman goes deeper than just Mary, the individual. Just as Moses and Elijah were particular representatives of the Law and Prophets, Mary has been accepted since the early Church as a symbol and type of the Church. This Woman “clothed with the sun” also symbolizes the Church, just as the witnesses pointed to the Law and the Prophets (GR4).

We rapidly find assurance that our identification of the Woman is correct. “Her offspring” are identified as “those who keep the commandments of God and bear testimony to Jesus” (12:17). These offspring are clearly the children of Mother Church. From one of the seven letters, we know that even the responsibility to rule the nations will be delegated to the faithful of the Church (2:26–27).

The story of the woman does not progress very far before a third key personality is introduced. This new character is “a great red dragon, with seven heads and ten horns, and seven diadems upon his heads” (12:3). This dragon is none other than “that ancient serpent, who is called the Devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world” (12:9). In typical apocalyptic language denoting political upheaval (GR5), “his tail swept down a third of the stars of heaven” (12:4).

Those who would deny the existence of a personal Satan cannot adequately explain this passage. He is certainly described as more than just a force or influence for evil. In fact, the Church has always described him as more than just an evil influence. The Church speaks of Satan as an evil person or spirit who tempted man in his first sin (CCC, pars. 397–398).

In the interactions of these three personalities, St. John summarizes Daniel’s entire seventieth week. This is the only time in The Apocalypse that all seven decades of Daniel’s seventieth week are in focus, making this the pivotal chapter of the book. John has just finished describing the victory of Christ over His foes in the first half of the book and will examine the parallel victory of the Church over her foes in the second half. But here St. John pauses to put into focus the entire seven decades of covenantal transition from the birth of the Messiah until the destruction of Jerusalem’s Temple. Everything else in The Apocalypse flows from the historical events described here. In fact, everything in salvation history flows from these events.

One of the first things we notice again is apocalyptic literature’s disregard for our twenty-first-century obsession with chronology (GR8). There are three vignettes that overlap chronologically, just as Daniel’s visions did. In 12:6, we see the Woman (the Church of Jerusalem) fleeing into the wilderness for “1,260 days.” Then the story on earth is interrupted with some events in Heaven that explain the earthly events. The story returns in 12:14 to the same three-and-a-half-year period, expressed as “time, and times, and half a time,” during which the Church was in flight from Jerusalem. In the initial vision, we already encountered this as the time of the “trampling” of Jerusalem and as the time during which the two witnesses were slain and resurrected.

This period comprises the same forty-two months we have noticed since Daniel: the time during which the Roman Empire was at war with Jerusalem and its Temple (February of 67 to August of 70 A.D.) Because the Church had heeded the warning of Jesus in the Olivet Discourse, her members fled from Jerusalem at its outbreak and were protected at Pella in Transjordan and elsewhere while the siege progressed around Jerusalem. As we noted in Daniel, this three and a half years are the final five percent of Daniel’s seventieth week.

Now that we have met the Child (Jesus), the Woman (Mary and the Church), and the dragon (Satan), we can examine the pivotal events of Daniel’s seventieth week.

So how do the seven decades of covenantal transition begin? The Woman, Mary, gives birth to the Child, Jesus (12:2). Immediately, the dragon tries to destroy the Child. “The dragon stood before the Woman who was about to bear a Child, that he might devour her Child when she brought it forth” (12:4). This is widely understood to be a reference to Satan’s use of Herod when he tried to kill Jesus as an infant. This, too, would have been at the very beginning of the seventieth week of Daniel.

Mary’s Child is born and destined to rule the nations. But something unexpected happens. Mary’s “Child was caught up to God and to His throne.” This is a clear reference to Christ’s Ascension and coronation in Heaven. That would place us at the halfway point of Daniel’s last week, around 30 A.D.

Until this point, the primary focus of the Woman is as a symbol of the Blessed Mother, Mary. Now the symbolism of the Woman expands to include the Bride of Christ, the Church. The Woman is forced by the dragon to flee into the desert, where she is protected by God. This is a good picture of what the Jewish Christians did when they saw the Roman army surrounding Jerusalem: they fled from Jerusalem into the desert area of Pella. This event is at the very end of Daniel’s seventieth week, either in 66 or 68 A.D.

At this point, the vision changes focus for a second vignette. St. John gives us the heavenly perspective on the quick overview of Daniel’s final week just completed, and he focuses our attention on the events surrounding the Passion of our Lord. In Daniel, the entire seventieth week pivots and centers on the Passion. It is halfway through the seven decades and is the basis of the “strong covenant” of Daniel. It holds center stage in this vision as well, as it does in the entire Apocalypse and in all of history.

The Passion was an earthly, historical event, but more important, it was also a heavenly, spiritual event. St. John describes it here as a war in Heaven between Satan’s angels and God’s angels. Through the power of the risen Christ, God’s forces, led by the archangel Michael, are victorious. An announcement is made: “Now the salvation and the power and the Kingdom of our God and the authority of His Christ have come, for the accuser of our brethren has been thrown down, who accuses them day and night before our God. And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb” (12:10). Satan is cast out of Heaven and grows bitter because of his defeat.

St. Augustine summed up this section of The Apocalypse well in one of his sermons: “The victory of our Lord Jesus Christ came when He rose and ascended into Heaven.… The Devil jumped for joy when Christ died; and by the very death of Christ, the Devil was overcome: he took, as it were, the bait in the mousetrap. He rejoiced at the death, thinking himself death’s commander. But that which caused his joy dangled the bait before him. The Lord’s Cross was the Devil’s mousetrap: the bait which caught him was the death of the Lord” (SSA, 222).

Now that he has described the heavenly battle that imbues the corresponding earthly events with meaning, St. John can return to the Woman’s flight into the wilderness. He had to interject the events in Heaven so we would know what truly made the flight necessary. It was the hatred of the dragon for anyone associated with this Child. The third vignette resumes the interrupted story on earth to fill in the details.

After the Ascension, the Woman primarily symbolizes the Church. The salvation of God’s people is assured by the aid of Yahweh, “the two wings of the great eagle” (12:14 and Deut. 32:10–12). God protects them for the same three and a half years in this flight, as in the flight before the heavenly scene, because they are one and the same flight (12:6; 12:14). The flight illustrated the obedience of the Church to the warning of Christ in the Olivet Discourse: “Then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains, and let those who are inside the city depart” (Luke 21:21).

But Satan is not about to give up his designs on this Woman, the Church, so easily. The serpent attempts to “sweep her away with the flood” (12:15). This flood reference reflects Daniel 9:24–27. In that vision of Daniel (III:C), the war that destroys Jerusalem and its Temple is described as a flood. We have already determined that this refers to the Jewish-Roman War at the end of Daniel’s final week. So St. John gives us a tidbit of information that we did not learn in Daniel. It was Satan’s plan to use the Roman army to destroy the Church of Jerusalem during the war in Judea.

But Satan’s plan was foiled. The Christians obeyed the command of Jesus in the Olivet Discourse, and they fled at the beginning of this three-and-a-half-year period. The flood, which was the Roman army, was “swallowed” by the land (12:16). This is an accurate picture of what Josephus describes in the Jewish-Roman War. Conquering Jerusalem was no easy task. It exhausted all of Rome’s energy and patience. By the time of their victory, the Roman Empire had no stomach for tracking down and destroying the Church as Satan had planned.

Of course, Satan had surely planned to trap the Christians in Jerusalem along with everyone else. If the Church had stayed in Jerusalem, she would have been destroyed along with the Temple. But the Church heeded the warnings of the Olivet Discourse and so was not in Jerusalem when the flood came.

The next sentence must have sent chills down the spine of any early Christian reading The Apocalypse aloud in Church: “Then the dragon … went off to make war on the rest of her offspring” (12:17). The dragon does not give up when the Roman army fails to destroy the Woman and her offspring, the Church. Satan redoubles his efforts to destroy “those who keep the commandments of God” (12:17).

As history attests, Satan has continued to hate the Woman’s offspring even after the events of 70 A.D. were completed. Emperor after emperor persecuted the early Church. Diocletian, in the late third century, is perhaps the most infamous persecutor of the Church. He vowed to wipe even the word Christian from his empire (CE, IV).

This hatred has continued down through the ages into modern times. Muslims have been ruthless in their treatment of Christians who refuse to convert. Hitler’s hatred for the Church is well documented. The communists of the Soviet Union and China have shown no remorse for their persecution of Christians. Although the names change through time, the motive behind it all remains the same: the hatred of the dragon for the Woman, stemming from the dragon’s defeat by the Child.

Rapturists make such a convoluted mess of this passage that it hardly warrants a point-by-point refutation. Let me just mention one problem with their time line, caused by yet another instance of Winkle Warp.

Some rapturists understand these two forty-two-month periods (12:6 and 12:14) as consecutive, giving them their future seven-year Great Tribulation. But these are clearly identical times, both involving the flight of the Woman “into the wilderness.” Indeed, if we must start to place all these periods end to end, we could end up with fourteen or more years in the rapturist Great Tribulation.

There is a more serious problem with rapturists’ time line, though. They believe it will occur at the very end of history, during a seven-year tribulation that immediately precedes Christ’s second coming. Yet the dragon “went off to make war on the rest of her offspring” when his initial assault failed. When would he find the time to do this if the second advent occurs immediately? There is no room for any more war in the rapturist time line.

It is much better to understand this as St. John clearly intended. These events are history from Daniel’s final week. The events of Chapter 12 are the pivotal events in all of history. This was when Christ established the “strong covenant” with His New People.

St. John has completed his descriptions of the three key personalities around which the covenantal transition revolves. The rest of The Apocalypse is a series of visions that add details to the initial vision of seals and trumpets from Chapters 4 through 11 (plus the epilogue). While the initial vision ended when Daniel’s final week ended in 70 A.D., the last of these recapitulating visions will extend right up to the final eschaton and eternity. This is exactly what Daniel did when he recapitulated his initial vision. His final vision (III:E) extended all the way to the final judgment, his own.

There are differing opinions about how to divide the remaining visions. How many are there? The rapturist tends to see the remainder of The Apocalypse as one long chronological account of the future. That position was unheard of in the first thirteen centuries of the Church, when the dominant position was that they are a recapitulation of the initial vision, as in Daniel’s outline. As St. Augustine taught, the visions of The Apocalypse repeatedly review the same events and period. Most scholars would probably separate the rest of the book into four or five visions. Either way, it would not alter our interpretation one whit, although I find five to be more helpful and understandable. The first three visions relate to the three key personalities we examined in the last section.

• III:A The battle strategy of the dragon
  Parallels Daniel’s vision of the battle strategy of the beast
• III:B The battle strategy of the Lamb
  Parallels Daniel’s vision of the battle strategy of the goat and ram
• III:C The battle strategy of God’s People
  Parallels Daniel’s vision of the battle strategy of God’s People
• III:D The Great Battle
  Parallels Daniel’s vision of the Great Battle
• III:E The vision of From Here to Eternity
  Parallels Daniel’s vision of From Here to Eternity

We skipped treatment of two of Daniel’s visions (III:B and III:D) because they do not impinge directly on our topic. In The Apocalypse, we will examine all five of them in order.

After the Child of the Woman escapes the dragon in Chapter 12, St. John relates that the dragon targets the Woman’s offspring: the Church. In Vision III:A, we learn the strategy of the dragon in his pursuit of revenge on the Child for his defeat in Heaven. This emphasis on battle strategy in the first recapitulating vision should not surprise us. Daniel did the same thing. He had five recapitulating visions, and much of the content of those (including the ones we did not examine) involved the battle strategy of the combatants.

What is the dragon’s battle strategy? Basically, it is to use power and deceit to coerce people into accepting his distorted view of reality. He denies the possibility of judgment after death. His deceit is popular even today: “What you see is all you get.” If deceit fails, he intimidates and even annihilates his opponents.

In Chapter 13, St. John introduces us to the two beasts that the dragon uses to implement his strategy. The Church (the Woman and her offspring) encountered them and their full power in the Great Tribulation. We will dub them the sea-beast and the land-beast. “And I saw a beast rising out of the sea.… Then I saw another beast which rose out of the land” (13:1, 11). The sea traditionally symbolized the gentile nations, and the land traditionally stood for the Jewish people. This means that the sea-beast symbolizes gentile Rome, and the land-beast symbolizes the Jewish leadership of St. John’s day. Both are the dragon’s servants. Satan cannot have a child, like the Woman, but he does have slaves.

Rapturists assume that the sea-beast of Chapter 13 is the antichrist. Some Catholics follow their lead. But nowhere in the entire book is there any indication that this is the final antichrist foretold to appear at the final confrontation between good and evil. In fact, by the time we get to the final battle, St. John foresees that both beasts will have been in the lake of fire for centuries! No, this sea-beast lived in the first century, although he might certainly stand as a type for the final antichrist (GR3).

When reading the description of the sea-beast, we cannot avoid being reminded of the four beasts in Daniel’s vision. The beast has attributes of “a leopard … a bear … and … a lion.” From this we can be absolutely certain that St. John saw the Roman war machine as the fourth beast of Daniel 7. The beast even has the same ten horns. Modernists who try to interpret Daniel without including Rome must answer to St. John.

The sea-beast is the dragon’s protégé, so it has seven heads and ten horns just like the dragon (13:1). The ten horns represent the ten provinces of ancient Rome, as a later vision will make clear (17:9–13).

That later vision also reveals that the seven heads have a double meaning (GR4). The vast majority of scholars would agree that these seven heads are the seven emperors who ruled Rome, and that is the meaning that concerns us here.

There is controversy over when to start counting emperors. Who was the first emperor? Modernist scholars begin with Augustus, the heir of Julius Caesar. But St. John was not a modernist scholar. He was a Jewish native of Judea, like the ancient historian Josephus. And because Josephus was a contemporary of St. John, he is illustrative of how St. John’s original Jewish readers would have numbered the emperors. Josephus started counting the imperial rulers of Rome with Julius Caesar. Even though Julius technically ruled during the Republic, he was considered by St. John’s contemporaries to be the first of the emperors. After all, he established the Julio-Claudio dynasty that ruled Rome for generations.

This dynasty began with Julius Caesar and continued through Augustus, Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius I, and Nero. This makes six, with the seventh head being Emperor Vespasian, under whose rule Jerusalem was sacked and the Temple destroyed by General Titus, his son and future heir to the throne. The interregnum of three short-lived rulers is ignored by Josephus, just as it is by most present-day scholars when numbering the emperors.

St. John mentions seven heads, including Vespasian, because that was the number of emperors before Jerusalem was judged and the Church vindicated. In early 68 A.D., Nero was Caesar, and so stands as representative of the empire. By July 1, 69, Vespasian was declared emperor by his troops. He was confirmed by the Senate in Rome on December 21, 69. Of course, the number seven was also very important symbolically (GR2).

Yet in this vision of the sea-beast, Nero is the primary focus. Why? The reason should be obvious. He was the emperor during the Great Tribulation implemented by the two beasts. In this vision of the dragon’s battle strategy, the destruction of the Temple takes a back seat to the greater conflict between Satan and Christ’s Church from 64 to 67 A.D.—a conflict that extends even to today.

Remember, that spiritual conflict is what imbues the destruction of the Temple with significance. Christ pointed to the judgment of the Temple and the Sanhedrin as the public vindication of His message and ministry. The destruction of the Temple revealed to the world the message of the scroll: the mystery of the Church. We encountered this scroll in God’s throne room in the initial vision.

Overall, the symbolism of the beasts is similar to that of the Woman and of the two witnesses. Nero, Vespasian, and Titus each stand at different times as a specific focal point for the entire Roman Empire in its vindictive destruction of Jerusalem. Later in the book (17:11), the beast is identified as General Titus, who became the eighth emperor of the Roman Empire. At other times, it is evident that what is said of the beast is meant to refer to the entire Roman Empire and its government. St. John uses his symbols to signify dual realities (GR4).

The beast suffers a wound on one of its heads. “One of [the beast’s] heads seemed to have a mortal wound, but its mortal wound was healed, and the whole earth followed the beast with wonder” (13:3). Nero is the personification of the empire in much the same way as Moses was the personification of the Law. At this point, the beast signifies Rome, and the wounded head symbolizes Nero.

Rome certainly endured what “seemed to [be] a mortal wound” during the tumultuous reign of Nero. Nero’s reign was disastrous in many respects: Rome was plagued by uprisings and civil wars; the Senate hated him; and the provinces, the army, and even the praetorian guard finally revolted against him. In the end, he committed suicide. On an individual level, that not only seemed to be a mortal wound; it was.

On a political level, the suicide of Nero caused a wound that seemed mortal as well. Nero’s sudden suicide, preceded as it was by his incompetence, led to a total disarray in the Roman Empire. Many Romans, including General Vespasian, were afraid the empire might disintegrate after Nero’s suicide (WJ, IV, 8:1).

During the interregnum between Nero and Vespasian, three men reigned for a very short time each. There were three rulers from the suicide in June 68 A.D., to the Senate’s confirmation of Vespasian in December 69 A.D. These nineteen months of turmoil saw civil war within the city of Rome itself. Rome was perhaps in more danger during this interregnum than at any other point in its history (WJ, IV, 8–10). Some historians are amazed that the empire avoided implosion. Rome’s failure to suppress the revolt of the Jews spawned insurrections throughout the empire, up until Titus’s victory in 70 A.D. Then “the mortal wound was healed,” as Vespasian ruled over a peaceful Roman Empire for nine years. Indeed, the empire had been wounded through Nero’s actions, but the empire would be healed.

A careful reading of the text reveals that, although the “head” suffers the mortal wound, it is the beast that is followed. After the mortal head wound, that particular head is not mentioned again. This is, of course, because Nero is dead, but the Roman Empire has survived. “The whole world followed the beast with wonder.”

By Nero’s reign, the ancient Roman world had given itself unreservedly to the worship of the emperor as divinity. St. John equates this with worship of Satan himself: “Men worshiped the dragon … and they worshiped the beast, saying … ‘Who can fight against it?’ ” (13:4). Rome truly was invincible in the eyes of much of the ancient world. St. John understands the power of Rome as a gift from the dragon.

This worship of the sea-beast led to blasphemy, as Daniel had predicted (7:25). The beast (Rome as personified in its Caesars) “was given a mouth uttering haughty and blasphemous words … for forty-two months” (13:5). This is the same three and a half years that we have seen repeatedly throughout The Apocalypse. Historically it refers to the time when Rome and Jerusalem were at war, from February of 67 to August of 70 A.D. During this time, three men were Caesar: Nero, Vespasian, and Titus (Titus was declared Caesar by his father before Jerusalem fell; SH, XXX:403). In demanding worship, the Caesars had crossed the line between political loyalty and idolatrous blasphemy.

Nero’s arrogance and blasphemy are well known, but the next two emperors were no better. Jewish tradition states that after the Romans overran the Temple, Titus took a prostitute into the innermost chamber of the Temple, the holy of holies, spread out a scroll of the Torah (the Old Testament Scriptures), and proceeded to engage in an act of fornication on the scroll. Such was the arrogant blasphemy of the Caesars who conquered Jerusalem and persecuted the Christians. They were beasts.

In the face of this invincible beast that demands and accepts worship, what is a Christian to do? St. John makes clear one thing they are not to do. Lest the early Church take up arms to protect itself in a futile and suicidal revolt, The Apocalypse warns that “if anyone slays with the sword, with the sword must he be slain” (13:10). This warning parallels that of Jesus in the Olivet Discourse: do not join the army of false Messiahs if you value your life. “Here is a call for the endurance and faith of the saints” (13:10). Endurance and faith are the only paths to victory in what amounts to a spiritual battle with a political foe.

This can also be taken as a promise. The pleas for justice by the Christian martyrs under the altar in the fifth seal have not been forgotten. In the midst of the description of these two evil beasts, the reader is reminded that justice will be served in the end. But the role of the Christian is to plead his case before God’s throne. It is a lesson that applies to many ages beyond just the first century.

The second beast, the land-beast, now enters the scene. As is so often the case in The Apocalypse, earth in 13:11 would better be translated as “land.” This land-beast “had two horns like a lamb, and it spoke like a dragon” (13:11). So the land-beast will speak just as deceitfully as Satan, but will appear harmless and holy. This beast must be a symbol of the Sanhedrin.

This interpretation dovetails with how many scholars view the essence of these two beasts. “Satan calls up two lieutenants: the ‘beast from the sea,’ the political [adversary of the Church, which is] … the Roman Empire with its emperor worship …; and the ‘beast of the earth,’ the philosophical and theological [adversary]” (NCE). The Jewish land-beast provides theological “cover” for the political machinations of the Roman sea-beast.

Josephus mentions two men whom Nero sent to administer his will in Jerusalem (AJ, XX, 11:1): Albinus and Gessius Florus. They are probably the most logical interpretation of the two lamblike horns on the beast.

In a few chapters, this same land-beast is referred to as “the false prophet.” “False prophet” is actually a description of what the land-beast does: “It works great signs, even making fire come down from Heaven to earth in the sight of men.… It deceives those who dwell” in the land (13:14). This false prophet is able to imitate even that sign of the greatest of the Old Testament prophets, when Elijah brought fire down from the sky. But his main stratagem is deceit.

This passage parallels the prophecy of Jesus. In the Olivet Discourse, Jesus predicted that, at the time of the destruction of the Temple, “false christs and false prophets will arise and show great signs and wonders.” The land-beast uses signs and wonders to deceive people. St. John is careful to show that Jesus has kept His promise. The signs He pointed out in the Olivet Discourse came to pass within that generation.

This land-beast stands in a long line of false prophets who have assured God’s people that they were safe, when they were anything but safe. The Sanhedrin in 70 A.D. certainly fit the description. Not only had they led Jerusalem in revolt against her Messiah almost a generation earlier, but during the war, “there was a great number of false prophets suborned by the tyrants to impose on the people [in Jerusalem] … that they should wait for deliverance from God” (WJ, VI, 5:2). As we learned in the initial vision, they were forced to drink wormwood (8:11).

This land-beast is given authority by Rome and “makes the land and its inhabitants worship the first beast, whose mortal wound was healed” (13:12). The Roman system of government required great autonomy on the part of the provincial governments. The empire was simply too large to be administered by a centralized bureaucracy in Rome. So Nero used the provincial governments within his empire to enforce emperor worship. Judea was no exception. This cooperation with Roman idolatry was one reason the outlaw Zealot hated the Sanhedrin and the priesthood in Jerusalem. They thought the leaders of Jerusalem were blaspheming the Law of Moses in their cooperation with Roman religion.

Although some of the earlier Caesars accepted worship, it seems doubtful they genuinely believed it themselves. But many historians think that Nero did believe in his own divinity, and so he rigorously enforced his edict of worship on all his subjects. One ancient writer called the enforcement of Nero’s edict “maniacally rigorous.” In fact, “the Neronian persecution [was] the most cruel that ever occurred” (HCC, I, 386). During Nero’s reign, even simple trade became impossible without submitting to the worship of Nero in the town square: “No one can buy or sell unless he has the mark, that is, the name of the beast” (13:17).

The Jewish leadership had compromised to survive, by performing daily sacrifices in the Temple for Nero, but the Christian Church refused to participate in anything that even bordered on idol worship. In the letters to the churches of Pergamum and Thyatira, St. John encouraged them to hold to the Faith in this regard. No idol worship! For obeying Christ, Christians were viewed as traitors. As traitors, they were hunted down and killed by Rome.

Rome did not act in isolation from its provincial governments. The land-beast caused “those who would not worship the image of the beast to be slain” (13:15). Jerusalem encouraged and cooperated with Rome because the Sanhedrin had their own motive for hating the Christians. Christianity taught that the Temple worship was obsolete, and that the divisions between Jews and Gentiles had been superseded by Christ’s atonement. That was the initial vision’s mystery of the scroll that was unsealed for the entire world to see.

Although it seems shocking to the modern Christian, Jerusalem not only cooperated fully with the Roman persecution of the early Church, but it even instigated that persecution. Although it is not true of modern Israel, the description of the land-beast in this passage actually matches the Jewish leadership of first-century Jerusalem perfectly. Not until 66 A.D. did they rebel against Rome, and at that point the Roman Empire turned its wrath on them. St. John describes the rift between Rome and Jerusalem in a later vision.

St. John’s description of the image of the beast has an uncanny resemblance to the image that Nebuchadnezzar built after his dream of the statue in Daniel. Three Hebrews were thrown into the fiery furnace because they would not worship the king’s gods. It is likely that St. John used this reference to remind his Christian readers about how that story ends. The three faithful Hebrews were spared death by the intervention of God, but they had clearly demonstrated their willingness to die rather than engage in idolatry.

The land-beast also makes life difficult for those who will not submit to “the mark” of the sea-beast. Just what this mark of the beast is has been the subject of almost unlimited speculation. But before we examine the mark, we should realize that St. John understands that the reader may be a bit confused.

He pauses to clarify the identity of this sea-beast with the mark. He instructs his readers to “reckon the number of the beast, for it is a human number, its number is six hundred and sixty-six” (13:18). This may have clarified the situation for the Christians of the first century, but these numbers have caused havoc ever since. Everyone agrees that it must refer to a human man. Beyond that, the number 666 has been taken to identify everyone from the Pope to Luther, from Hitler to Mussolini, from Stalin to Mikhail Gorbachev, from FDR to Ronald Reagan. But remember, the writer was trying to make his message clear to his original readers, without subjecting them to charges of treason or blasphemy. The number 666 is one of sixteen clues to the identity of the sea-beast that St. John gives in The Apocalypse.

Today’s scholars agree: to reveal the identity of the beast to Jewish Christians, while hiding it from outsiders, St. John used the rabbinic numbering system for names, called Gematria. When the Gematrian numbers of Nero’s official name in Hebrew are added together (fifty plus two hundred plus six plus fifty plus one hundred plus sixty plus two hundred), they total 666. The original Hebrew Christian readers of this vision would have understood this immediately. Without endangering the Church, St. John succeeds in fingering the present Roman emperor, Nero, as the sea-beast (GR4, 8).

The early Church universally understood these numbers to refer to Nero. Even the futurist Irenaeus mentions that Nero is the Gematrian solution to the puzzle of the 666. In some manuscripts of The Apocalypse, the number had been copied as 616. Irenaeus points out that even this number would work as the solution to Nero’s abbreviated name. This is further evidence that the early Church understood the 666 as a reference to Nero, the personification of the sea-beast.

The significance of the number six in triplicate would not have escaped the original readers either. Six stood symbolically as the number of man. Nero might be powerful, but he was only a man. Even the trinity of Nero, Vespasian, and Titus would never add up to more than just finite man. Nero could never be 777 (perfection), much less 888 (Christ conquered death on the eighth day).

Now we understand that the sea-beast clearly symbolizes Rome during Nero’s time. But we still need to examine “the mark” of this beast. Could it really be a microchip that will be imbedded in the forehead or hand at some point in the future, as some believe?

No. That is simply Winkle Warp again. Although everything that happened in 70 A.D. in the destruction of the Temple might give us a picture prophecy of what may happen in the still-future final battle, we cannot assume willy-nilly that details of this sort will be repeated (GR3).

The “mark” was a common symbol in the Old Testament, signifying loyalty. Cain was given a mark for disloyalty after he killed his brother (Gen. 4:15). The mark of lamb’s blood on the doorposts in Egypt just before the exodus of the Hebrews was a public announcement of loyalty. In Ezekiel 9:4–6, a mark was put on each loyal man’s forehead before God destroyed those in Jerusalem who were doing evil. This mark was the Hebrew letter tau, or T, and those without it were killed in judgment. The early Church saw it as a prophecy pointing to the sign of the Cross.

As the prophets preached to Israel over the centuries, this mark of loyalty evolved into a primarily interior reality that paralleled the evolving vision of a spiritual Kingdom. Jeremiah prophesied, “I will put my law within them, and I will write it upon their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people” (Jer. 31:33). No serious scholar of Jeremiah assumes that God meant that He would write the words of the law on their hearts with a ballpoint pen. Nor could the “law within them” be something an X-ray machine could detect. The loyalty of the New Covenant, which is the focus of this beautiful passage in Jeremiah, is an inward commitment of the will that manifests itself in the way we live.

Rapturists are not the first to take the spiritual meaning of a Bible passage and interpret it in an overly physical way. The Pharisees did the same thing. In Deuteronomy, Moses instructed the Israelites in the “Great Commandment”: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord; and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might” (6:4–5). He explains that this commandment should be kept always in mind and continually taught to the next generation. He goes on to say, “And you shall bind them as a sign upon your hand, and they shall be as frontlets [or phylacteries] between your eyes” (6:8).

How did the Pharisees interpret this instruction of Moses? Many of them seemed to miss entirely the spiritual meaning of Moses’ message: that this “Great Commandment” had to affect the way they thought, the way they saw the world, and the way they lived their lives. Instead, they literally tied phylacteries onto their foreheads and right arms. Phylacteries were small leather boxes with leather straps, and inside the boxes was printed the “Great Commandment.” Yet as Jesus makes clear, their adherence to the literal, physical interpretation of this passage lulled them into a false security. They failed to keep the spiritual command of Moses: to be ever mindful of the presence of their awesome God in everything they thought or did (Matt. 23:1–7).

Like the Kingdom that is being revealed, the marks of The Apocalypse are internal. There are two marks: the mark of the beast and the mark of the Lamb. Popular sentiment concentrates on the mark of the beast, but God’s mark—the mark of the Lamb—is actually much more important in The Apocalypse. It is first alluded to in the sixth letter to the churches, the letter to Philadelphia. God’s mark is mentioned specifically in the sixth seal of the initial vision (7:3). The four angels are held back from judgment until God’s children can be marked with His name. In the later vision of the Child’s strategy, the redeemed 144,000 all have been marked by God (14:1). This mark of God is evident even in eternity. In Heaven God’s faithful “servants shall worship Him; they shall see His face, and His name shall be on their foreheads” (22:4).

The mark of the beast and the mark of the Lamb are inward and discernible only through the actions of those marked. Having it on the hand signifies the change in what we Christians do as a result of our loyalty, while the forehead mark signifies how our loyalties change the way we think. The loyalty to God’s Law within the Christian community would be obvious to everyone when emperor worship was demanded in the marketplace. Christians refused to “go along to get along,” and they ended up as a people marked by Rome for death. At the same time, God marked these martyrs for eternal life.

In a later vision, we see evidence that St. John intended us to understand the mark of the beast in this spiritual fashion. In the vision of the winepress, “anyone [who] worships the beast and its image” is equated with “receiv[ing] a mark on his forehead or on his hand” (14:9). This spiritual understanding of the marks dovetails best with the mark of God’s presence even in eternity.

God’s mark is actually much more important to the message of The Apocalypse. Yet for some reason, few try to understand it in the physical, literalistic way in which the mark of the beast is portrayed in contemporary prophecy novels.

Rapturists try desperately to place all of this in the future. But the fulfillment would have been clear to the first-century Christian, so why bother?

At the time of St. John’s writing, Nero personifies the Roman Empire. He is the human whose symbol is 666, and he demands worship in violation of God’s Law. This is the only time in history that the Church was persecuted by both the Roman beast and the Jerusalem beast. Even the eighth emperor of the later vision has already lived and died. We know him as Titus, the son of Vespasian. Unless we have slept through the history of the first century and are suffering from Winkle Warp, there is no reason to look for any future fulfillment.

That said, the lesson of the two marks is timeless. Throughout history, the strategy of the dragon has been to make it socially advantageous to compromise with evil. Derision and death have always accompanied those who have refused his deceptions (GR3).

In the first century, the mark of the beast was the willingness to worship Rome’s power. God’s mark was revealed in the refusal to worship Satan’s great deception. It still is today. Deception of any kind is straight from Hell, and it usually still stinks like smoke.

Now in beautiful fashion, St. John uses these opposing marks to make the transition from the battle strategy of the dragon and his beasts to the battle strategy of the Child and His followers who have “His Father’s name written on their foreheads” (14:1). As you may remember, the Child is none other than the Lion and the Lamb of the initial vision.

What can be the battle strategy of Christ in response to this powerful, deceitful strategy of Satan? That is the question of this vision. We will learn not only how the Lamb opposes the dragon, but also the benefits that the Lamb’s followers can expect. Remember, the Lamb’s followers are the same people as the offspring of the Woman.

This vision begins with a scene on Mount Zion in Heaven. The author of Hebrews mentions Mount Zion as being associated with the heavenly Jerusalem. “You have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the first-born who are enrolled in Heaven, and to a judge who is God of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect” (Heb. 12:22–23).

On Mount Zion stands “the Lamb, and with him a hundred and forty-four thousand who had His name and His Father’s name written on their foreheads” (14:1). These martyrs have God’s mark of loyalty upon them. They should remind us of the “saints” in the heavenly scene of the initial vision (5:9).

The number 144,000 was used in Chapter 7 to symbolize the entire number of those who came into the Church from biblical Judaism. But we noted that it also had all the earmarks of a symbolically large number. There is no good reason to change our mind here.

In this instance, the 144,000 are all “chaste.” But the Greek word, parthenos, is more accurately translated “virgins” (14:4). Without a doubt, this is a difficult passage for the average rapturist. As a group, rapturists vehemently disagree with the Church’s historical teaching concerning the need for sexual continence within the leadership of the Church. Lest there be any doubt, St. John emphasizes his point by describing them as those “who have not defiled themselves with women.” “Defiled” is probably too strong a translation for the relatively rare Greek word moleno in this passage. It carries with it the idea of becoming ceremonially unfit for service. (The only other occurrences in the Bible are 1 Corinthians 8:7 and Apocalypse 3:4.) Although rapturists and modernists hate to admit it, here is evidence that the early Church’s demand for episcopal celibacy was just that—very early. Although the marriage bed is certainly holy, the sexually continent are held up to the reader as exemplary. They are to be esteemed precisely because of their virginity.

Once again the Catholic is free to take the text for what it actually says. Being “eunuchs” for the Kingdom is a sacrifice that does not go unnoticed in Heaven (Matt. 19:12). Although some modernist Catholics try to argue the point, the Church’s historical teaching is that this is a higher calling (CEC).

The 144,000 “sing a new song before the throne and before the four living creatures and before the elders” (14:3). St. John acts as though we should know who these creatures and elders are, and so we should. They appeared at the very beginning of the initial vision in the throne room. This indicates that these two visions have the same starting point, the throne room of God. In fact, the events are almost identical. Because of this, we will use the symbolism mentioned in both places to clarify the battle strategy of the Lamb.

The entire passage revolves around the actions of these 144,000 who are “redeemed from the land.” The 144,000 “sing a new song” along with the twenty-four elders (5:9; 14:3). This song is the battle strategy of the Child.

“Wait a second,” you think. “What kind of battle strategy is this?”

It does seem ludicrous! After all, the dragon has two beasts of power that deceive, imprison, and kill their opponents. How could it be that the entire battle strategy of the Child involves nothing more than a choir of virgins singing a song so unsingable that “no one [else] could learn” it (14:3)? This is not what we expected. We were promised a “rod of iron” from this Child. Where is it? It is nice that the chaste in this choir are “spotless,” and it is wonderful that they do not “lie,” but this is a battle with a dragon (14:5)!

The strategy of God has always been a mystery to those who think like the dragon. In a passage with Messianic overtones, Zechariah is told, “This is the word of the Lord.… Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of hosts” (Zech. 4:6). The dragon’s mindset has so permeated our modern culture that our minds reel under the full implication of these words.

That greatest of the prophets, Elijah, was in a battle with the powerful and evil queen Jezebel. He went into the wilderness to hide in a cave near Mount Horeb. There God promised to come to Elijah: “Behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains … but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a still, small voice” (1 Kings 19:11–12). No matter what the age, God is not found in power, but in the still, small voice speaking Truth.

But the song these virgins sing is special. The song that the celibate 144,000 sing is the Eucharist. We touched briefly on this in the throne room of the initial vision; let us now consider it more closely.

The elders “sang a new song” (5:9), and the chaste “sing a new song” (14:3). This is the eucharistic song of Heaven. It was not a part of the Old Covenant, but is integral to the New. When we sing “holy, holy, holy,” we join all the choirs of saints and of angels in Heaven (4:8).

The connection to the Eucharist becomes apparent when we investigate the Greek words used by St. John. The verb form sang is a translation of the Greek word ado, and the noun form song is from the word ode. These Greek words are the source of our English word ode.

Webster’s Dictionary defines ode as “a poem suitable for singing that is addressed to some person and characterized by lofty feeling and dignified style.” Think about that. That is a pretty good description of the Mass.

Other than the three times we see them in The Apocalypse, ado and ode are used only twice elsewhere in the New Testament: in Ephesians 5:19 and Colossians 3:16, where they are linked to eucharisteo. This is the root of our word Eucharist, meaning “thanksgiving.”

Where does this lead us? “Singing an ode” is a specialized phrase in the New Testament that is linked by context to the thanksgiving we give to God in the Mass, the Eucharist. Our thanksgiving is due to the salvation Christ won for us when He “wast slain” (5:9).

We will encounter one more case of people singing an ode in the next vision, and they will also refer to the thanksgiving we give to God in the worship of the Mass.

The reason the initial vision identifies the Lion with a slain Lamb becomes apparent: it is an obvious reference to the sacrifice of the Passion. Every Catholic should know that the Church celebrates and joins itself to that ultimate sacrifice in the unbloody Sacrifice of the Mass.

Now it makes sense why the first throne-room scene makes a point of the presence of “priests” (5:10). This Kingdom of God on earth requires priests. Without priests, there is no sacrifice of the Mass. The priest is an essential element in bringing the sacrament of the Eucharist into our daily lives. Our conclusion: The Eucharist is the battle strategy of the Lamb. The Eucharist proclaims the mystery of the gospel; it is the center of the New Covenant Kingdom.

This sacrament strengthens our souls for our battles with the dragon. It proclaims the mystery of the one spiritual Kingdom of Jew and Gentile for the entire world to see. It turns our hearts toward home, our eternal home, by reminding our eye of faith that what we see is not always what we get. It reminds us that there is a home for us that will be everlasting, although it is now unseen. It strengthens us for the pilgrimage. It makes the Truth, which is the Lion’s primary weapon, take root in our lives. But most of all, it fulfills the promise of Christ in the seventh letter: “If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me” (3:20).

Now the strategy of the Child starts to unfold. The eucharistic song of these chaste, holy martyrs has stirred three angels. In the midst of the 144,000 singing virgins, an angel announces, “Fear God and give Him glory, for the hour of His judgment has come” (14:7). Perhaps there is more power in this song than the dragon thinks.

The first angel announces the “eternal gospel.” What is the eternal gospel? “Fear God and give Him glory.… Worship Him who made Heaven and earth” (14:7). The gospel revolves around God and His glory, not our wonderful plans and achievements.

We are to give God glory because “the hour of His judgment has come” (14:7). At this point, the angel is not announcing the final, general judgment that all humanity will undergo at the end of time. That must wait until the vision of From Here to Eternity (ch. 19). The judgment this angel announces will descend on those who persecuted the Church in the first century, in answer to the martyrs under the altar who have been pleading for justice since the seals in the initial vision. This judgment occurred in 70 A.D.

We are confirmed in this assessment when we read a few verses later, “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from henceforth” (14:13). If this judgment were the final event of history, there would be no people to die “henceforth.” In 21:4 we read that after the last judgment, “death shall be no more.” We are not at that point yet. Death will be conquered, but we must keep in mind that death is “the last enemy to be destroyed” (1 Cor. 15:26).

The second angel informs us of the object of God’s judgment: “Babylon.” And the success of this judgment is assured. The angel announces, “Fallen, fallen is Babylon the great” (14:8 and Isa. 21:9). This is not, then, the final judgment of all humanity.

The identity of this city, “Babylon,” is hotly contested. It is certainly not the one in Iraq, which had been a ruin for hundreds of years before The Apocalypse was written. That Babylon had already been judged by God. “Babylon” is a code for another city, a city that has already appeared in the initial vision.

Like “Sodom and Egypt” in the initial vision, “Babylon” is a code name for Jerusalem, a city too politically dangerous for St. John to mention by name. In The Apocalypse, “that great city” always refers to Jerusalem (18:10, 16, 19). We should expect that. After all, the destruction of Jerusalem’s Temple is what reveals the mystery of the scroll. These visions are a recapitulation of that initial vision. Because of the tremendous civil turbulence engulfing Jerusalem in 68 A.D., St. John disguises the city’s identity to protect his readers from automatic persecution if they were to be discovered reading The Apocalypse.

Why would Babylon be chosen as a symbol of first-century Jerusalem? We examined it already in “Belshazzar’s folly” in Daniel. The ruler of Babylon, Belshazzar, had defiled God’s holy Temple vessels by a profane use. God struck the city with judgment by the invasion of the Persian army. In code-naming Jerusalem “Babylon,” St. John points out another city about to endure the judgment of God because of its disdain for God’s holiness. She was guilty of “impure passion,” another expression for spiritual harlotry, or idol worship (14:8). St. John anticipated this issue in the seven letters to the churches. Jerusalem’s complicity in the worship of the sea-beast is about to bring its consequences.

Babylon was judged by God for blasphemy after a prophetic proclamation. That pronouncement was announced via “the hand from God’s presence” (Dan. 5). Yet the instrument of that judgment was the Persian army. God Himself never physically appeared in Babylon (GR6).

In 70 A.D., the new Babylon, Jerusalem, was also judged by God after a prophetic proclamation by the Hand of God. Jesus Himself spoke Jerusalem’s doom in the Olivet Discourse and elsewhere. The instrument of that judgment was once again an army, this time from Rome.

Now the third angel appears with an urgent warning for Christians, complementing the message of the first angel, which is the eternal gospel. That angel commanded the worship of God; this angel gives them a choice. If Christians do not resist emperor worship, which is worship of the power of the dragon, they will bear the same consequences as Jerusalem. These consequences are of eternal import: “The smoke of their torment goes up forever and ever; and they have no rest, day or night, these worshipers of the beast and its image, and whoever receives the mark of its name” (14:11).

But those who endure and “keep the commandments of God and the faith of Jesus” will partake of eternal bliss (14:12). “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord henceforth” (14:13). While the persecuted Christians may find that earthly power and its benefits elude them in this life, when they die, they will “rest from their labors, and their works do follow them” (14:13).

This is our hope. It is also our choice: power now or bliss for eternity. This is the battle strategy of the Lamb, to tell us the Truth about eternity. There is no better vehicle for this Truth than the Eucharist. While the dragon promises the earthly perks of success through power, the Lamb assures us that we will reap our just reward in eternity. The benefits of following the Lamb flow for all eternity.

Make no mistake: this vision is not about boring theology. The application of these principles is new and fresh for every generation. Our culture is very “dragonish,” tempting us to use deceit and power to obtain wealth and pleasure now. In countless decisions every day, we each must choose to worship the power of the dragon or to answer the “call for the endurance and faith of the saints” (13:10; 14:12).

St. John knows it is not an easy choice. But God will not tinker with our free will as the dragon would. The dragon will trick us with deceit and coerce us with power. God’s strategy is simply to show the world the Truth. Christ is pictured in The Apocalypse with a sharp sword coming from His mouth. That is Christ’s weapon, the Truth of God. You will live for all eternity with the consequences of your choices.

The three messages of the three angels reflect the message of Jesus. First, Christians must fear and obey God. Second, Jerusalem will fall in order to vindicate the eternal power of the risen Christ. Third, all men will be eternally judged in the end for their deeds.

Can you hear the dragon snickering at all this? “Sure, sure,” he laughs. “But how do you really know that an eternal reward awaits you? I promise you rewards in this life. You cannot be certain Christ can keep His promises until it is too late. You will be already dead!”

That is a very good question. How do we know?

That brings us to the second half of the Child’s strategy. Christ anticipated Satan’s deception. The early Church taught that one reason we could trust Jesus for our eternal reward is that He kept His promises concerning the Temple in the Olivet Discourse. We know He is capable of an eternal judgment at the final eschaton because He judged His executioners within the generation that He predicted He would. Anyone who can reach back from the other side of the grave to keep His promises and judge His enemies must be God. The judgment upon the Temple is the proof of Christ’s claim that we will be judged in eternity!

Two more angels appear to illustrate this. The first angel urges Christ to gather His followers from the land before judgment strikes. “One like a Son of man” reaches with a sharp sickle into the land because “the harvest of the land is fully ripe” (14:14–15). We have been waiting for just this announcement. Earlier, God had been waiting for more martyrs and Jewish believers before He would answer their pleas for justice (6:11; 7:3). The pleas came from the souls under the altar in the initial vision. Now the angel tells the “Son of man” that the sheaves are ripe and the time for judgment is ready. But before the judgment strikes Jerusalem, Christ Himself will remove His followers from harm’s way. As we saw in the Olivet Discourse, Jesus met this responsibility: He warned them, they fled, and they were spared.

The second angel gathers, not wheat for protection, but grapes for crushing in the “winepress of the wrath of God” (14:19). The judgment on the Sanhedrin is about to commence. When it comes, it substantiates the claims of Christ. He has the right to promise His faithful an eternal reward because He really is the “Son of man.” He rose from the dead and judged His accusers. “The treading of the winepress is the retribution” (COA, XIV). As the Son of man, He first protects His own. Then He proceeds with the judgment promised to His accusers.

The winepress was trodden outside the city, and blood flowed from the winepress, as high as a horse’s bridle, for one thousand six hundred stadia” (14:20).

One thousand six hundred stadia is approximately 180 miles. It is no coincidence that this is the length of ancient Israel. When the Roman army under Vespasian and then Titus marched through ancient Israel to conquer Jerusalem, the toll was horrific.

What do you see when you imagine the winepress of God? If you are like most Christians, nothing specific comes to mind. But imagine the city of Jerusalem surrounded by crosses. So many crosses ring the city walls that the Romans run out of trees to cut down. When the Romans catch a Jew, they whip him and nail him to a cross. Beaten and bloody captives are lying about, awaiting their crucifixion when crosses becomes available. As the blood pours down from the crosses encircling Jerusalem, it looks like the very life of Judea is being crushed out of it.

Because of the Passover, it has been estimated that 2,700,200 people were trapped inside Jerusalem by the Romans. During the last five months of the siege, a million were killed (Apoc. 9:5; WJ, VI, 9:3; AEV, 96; RKC, 27). That is about seven thousand victims every day without rest for a full five months! These crucified Jews were elevated within sight of the city walls to instill fear in Jerusalem. The wounds of the crucified were approximately at the height of a horse’s bridle.

St. John mentions the horse’s bridle to anticipate the next visions, in which the ancient plagues of Egypt revisit Jerusalem. The horse’s bridle brings to mind the first exodus from Egypt, when the Hebrews passed through the Red Sea. When the Egyptian persecutors tried to pursue them with horse and chariot, the Red Sea surged and drowned the Egyptians and their horses. God later judged Egypt for its treatment of His people. Ezekiel painted a rather grotesque picture of this judgment of Egypt: “I will drench the land even to the mountains with your flowing blood; and the watercourses will be full of you” (32:6).

Just so, the new people of God were to pass through a red sea to obtain deliverance from the new Egypt, which was the Old Jerusalem. This sea would not be of salt water this time, but of the blood of those Jews who had attempted to keep Christians in bondage. The sea of red ringed Jerusalem and drenched the hills around it with blood, like a “great winepress … outside the city” (14:19–20).

The winepress image also recalls Isaiah’s beautiful love song about the vineyard of God that “yielded wild grapes” (5:1–7). As a result, the owner had to abandon his vineyard (cf. Ps. 80). Jesus borrowed this Old Testament analogy when He spoke of Jerusalem as a vineyard in Matthew. Because the tenants of the vineyard beat the owner’s servants, and ultimately killed the owner’s son, the parable ends with the tenants of the vineyard being put “to a miserable death” (21:33–46). Jesus was saying that the unfaithfulness of the priests and the Sanhedrin’s rejection of the Messiah would result in their downfall. The chief priests understood Jesus perfectly, so they “tried to arrest Him” (21:46). But within a generation, these leaders met the “miserable death” that Jesus had predicted. It may not always be pleasant or easy, but one thing remains: Jesus tells the Truth.

Now we know the battle strategy of the Lamb—namely, the Truth as told best in the Eucharist. But what of the Lamb’s Church? What is their strategy? This question is answered in Chapter 15.

This vision begins in the same place as the one we just examined, and as the initial vision of the scroll: in the throne room of God. We encounter the same “sea of glass” (15:2). This should reinforce our belief that these visions recapitulate each other. This vision does not break new ground chronologically.

At first blush, it seems as if the Church’s strategy is just as filled with singing as the Lamb’s. We clearly see that the Church in Heaven has already conquered the dragon and his beasts. Yet there has been no mention of the saints fighting! What kind of battle strategy is this? All singing and no fighting?

The strategy of the Lamb and the strategy of God’s People hearken back to Daniel, who, when forbidden by the government to pray to God, opened his window and worshiped as always, in defiance of the state (Dan. 6).

This was also the battle strategy of Daniel’s three friends under attack by a government hostile to their faith. Hananiah, Azariah, and Mishael refused to worship a statue of the king, so they were thrown into a fiery furnace. The deuterocanonical portions of Daniel include the Prayer of Azariah and the Song of the Three Holy Children. The three prayed and sang in the midst of their persecution (Dan. 3).

St. John calls Christians to hold to the truth of Christ in the same manner. This parallel is a small hint that scholars are correct when they claim that St. John used a copy of Daniel that included the deuterocanonical portions. This may be one minor reason rapturists have trouble understanding this book. They use a truncated Old Testament!

The Church, too, has a strategy of prayer in the face of a beastly government. Her prayer involves joining herself to the eucharistic celebration of Heaven. The Eucharist is the Church’s highest prayer.

The battle strategy of the Old Testament people of God was enunciated in the vision of the seventy weeks. If they would build the Temple of God, the Messiah would come shortly thereafter. It would involve work and much prayer, but that was their strategy. In much the same way, the battle strategy of the New Testament people of God is to build the new Temple of God, Christ’s Church. The prayer of the Eucharist does it best.

Here in The Apocalypse, St. John has twice paused to say, “Here is a call for the endurance and faith of the saints” (13:10; 14:12). The first time, this call immediately follows an admonition about the futility of armed conflict against the beast. “If anyone slays with the sword, with the sword must he be slain” (13:10). The second time follows a warning not to accept the mark of the beast; in other words, do not “worship the beast.” We must “fear God and give Him glory” (14:7).

This is how the battle is won! When faithful Christians refuse idolatry and immorality, when they endure even to the point of death, then the dragon and his beasts are defeated. Instead of worshiping the beast, the Church worships Christ. We see the same “singing of an ode” in this vision that we noticed in the Child’s strategy. The highest worship we can give the Lamb is in the Mass.

Keep in mind: this defeat of the dragon may not be immediately apparent here on earth. We must raise our line of sight from earthly events and comprehend that the victory that counts is the victory in eternity. The dragon will win his interim skirmishes here on earth through his strategy of raw power and deceit. But he will lose the war for all eternity. In fact, he already has lost. The dragon aims for a finish line that ends with our earthly death. The Church understands the Truth of a deeper reality: this world is not all there is. We are made for eternity. That is the strategy of the Church, flowing directly from the strategy of the Lamb that was slain.

So the singing in Heaven makes sense. It is a part of the Eucharist. The victors sing “the song of Moses” and “the song of the Lamb.” The song of Moses was first sung by the Hebrews when God parted the Red Sea for them and destroyed their enemies in the flood of its returning waters. Its inclusion anticipates the exodus theme of the next vision: the Church is the New Israel of God being freed from the tyranny of spiritual Egypt—physical Jerusalem. The song of the Lamb makes it clear that these are the citizens of the New Jerusalem: Christians on a spiritual exodus from the Old Covenant of Old Jerusalem. The mere mention of the Lamb should recall His Passion. This song of the Lamb is eucharistic.

Just as in the strategy of the Child, the singing of the Church in Heaven stirs angels to action. This time there are seven of them, bringing seven bowls of plagues that proceed from God’s Temple. St. John tells us that these “seven plagues … are the last, for with them the wrath of God is ended” (15:1). “The wrath of God always strikes the obstinate people with seven plagues, that is, perfectly, as it is said in Leviticus” (COA, XV). The seven bowls of plagues are enough to exhaust God’s wrath over the treatment of His Son.

This is an important point. “The wrath of God is ended” with these seven plagues. Therefore, just as the ancient Roman Empire cannot be reconstructed and then held responsible for the events of two millennia ago, neither can the modern Jews of Jerusalem be made responsible for the actions of the first-century Sanhedrin. Anti-Semitism is a twisted sort of Winkle Warp that ignores the history it finds inconvenient.

Present-day anti-Semites may try to hide behind religious reasons, but it is my experience that they have other motives. We must not be fooled into anti-Semitism; God’s wrath with Judaism was ended in the winepress of 70 A.D.—period.

Now that we know the strategies of the three personalities in Daniel’s seventieth week, a question remains: When it comes to pitched battle, which strategy will win out?

The vision of the Great Battle recapitulates the events of the earlier visions, with a new emphasis. Old earthly Jerusalem is cast in the role of Egypt, seeking to keep God’s New Covenant people in slavery to the Law. As we have noted, St. John anticipated this theme for us in the two prior visions.

Jerusalem’s judgment has been the overarching theme throughout The Apocalypse. Now we encounter new symbolism in that regard: “Come, I will show you the judgment of the great harlot” (17:1). We know these visions are recapitulating, and we know that “the great” refers to Jerusalem, so we should suspect that this “harlot” is none other than Jerusalem.

In this vision, the object of God’s judgment is the city that “shed the blood of saints and prophets” (16:6; 18:24). This echoes the words of Jesus, when He spoke of Jerusalem. In Matthew, Jesus announced seven woes upon the religious leadership of Jerusalem. At the end of these woes, Jesus says, “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, killing the prophets and stoning those who are sent to you!… Behold, your house is forsaken and desolate” (Matt. 23:37–38). St. John will subtly reflect these seven woes of Jesus in the seven bowls of the Great Battle.

As if that were not enough to designate Jerusalem as the harlot, St. John links the harlot with Babylon. We already know that Babylon symbolizes Jerusalem: “Babylon the great, mother of harlots and of earth’s abominations” (17:5–6).

So we see that harlot is another code name for Jerusalem. This should not surprise us if we have read the Old Testament. The prophet Isaiah accused Jerusalem of harlotry: “How the faithful city has become a harlot, she that was full of justice! Righteousness lodged in her, but now murderers” (1:21).

So the names for Jerusalem thus far include the great city, Sodom, Egypt, Babylon, and the harlot. In addition, Jerusalem was the land-beast that cooperated with the sea-beast and will soon appear as the false prophet. Jerusalem’s judgment as the new Egypt is the focus of this vision. But the events are the same as when “the kings of the earth … and everyone, slave and free, hid in the caves” in the sixth seal (6:15). They are the same events as when “the four angels were released, who had been held … to kill a third of mankind” at the end of the trumpets (9:15). The seven seals examined these events from the King’s perspective; the seven trumpets examined them from the Sanhedrin’s perspective. The seven bowls examine the destruction of Jerusalem from the Church’s perspective.

The battle is waged by the Lamb against the beasts of the dragon for the benefit of the Church. The battle is placed in the context of the plagues that God visited upon Old Egypt in the time of Moses’ exodus. Now the “plagues” of Egypt start to work against Old Jerusalem, the symbolic Egypt, to the benefit of the New Jerusalem, the Church.

In the vivid imagery of apocalyptic literature, we see Jerusalem subjected to the same plagues as ancient Egypt had been: “foul and evil sores … blood … fierce heat … darkness … frogs … earthquakes … and great hailstones.” Since these are apocalyptic descriptions, we need not expect literal fulfillment in every detail (GR5, 6). The point of this vision is that the Church, the New Jerusalem, is being led in exodus from the slavery of Old Jerusalem, which is now the new Egypt (GR3).

There are interesting parallels between Jerusalem’s leadership and Egypt’s Pharaoh Ramses. They both wanted to keep the children of God, His ekklesia, in slavery to their law. God in His grace wanted to free His children, so both Pharaoh and the religious leadership of Jerusalem “cursed the name of God who had power over these plagues, and they did not repent and give Him glory” (16:9).

Everything will not be identical, however. In the first exodus, the Egyptian army attempted to cross the dry Red Sea to keep the Jews in slavery. This time the army that crosses the river is there to judge the “Egypt” that refuses to liberate the Christians. “The great river Euphrates … was dried up, to prepare the way for the kings from the east” (16:12). That was the direction over which Titus led his troops—drawn from all provinces of the empire, including “from the east.” The invasion of the sixth bowl precisely parallels the invasion of the sixth trumpet: they are one and the same event.

Rapturists looking for a literal, modern fulfillment miss the main message of The Apocalypse. The famous rapturist preacher Harry Ironside exhibited a rather severe case of Winkle Warp in 1938: “Who are these kings? It is not necessary to guess, as the word for east is simply sun-rising. The kings of the sun-rising! Japan has been known as the empire of the rising sun for a millennium.… There you have the kings of the sun-rising, all in readiness for … the Armageddon conflict.… The yellow peril becomes more and more ominous. The preparation of the day of the Lord goes on apace” (TKB, January 1938).

Rather than engage in this type of nonsense, it is better to understand the river Euphrates being dried up as an allusion to the Red Sea. The Red Sea protected the Hebrews on the original exodus. The Euphrates had always stood as a protective barrier to invasion of Israel from the north. No more. It would not stop the Roman army and its allies.

As the kings of the east pour en masse over the dried-up Euphrates in the sixth plague, we encounter the name of a new location: “They assembled them [the armies] at the place which is called in Hebrew ‘Armageddon.’ ” This was a famous military spot in ancient times. In fact, some military histories begin with a description of the battle between Syria and Egypt (commanded by Thutmose III) on this very spot. That famous battle occurred at the Mount of Megiddo, also know as “Armageddon.”

This mount controlled the pass between the plain of Jezreel and the plain of Sharon; in Scripture, this area was the scene of many battles. Deborah and Barak slew Sisera on this plain (Judg. 4–5). Gideon defeated the Midianites (Judg. 6–7) and the Philistines slew King Saul here (1 Sam. 29–31). By bringing up the Mount of Megiddo, St. John reminded his Jewish readers of all these events.

But by far the most pertinent previous battle of Armageddon was the battle of the Judean King Josiah against the Egyptian Pharaoh Necho. King Josiah was a great spiritual reformer in Judah. He did battle with Egypt and was killed (2 Kings 23:29; Zech. 12:10–11). History records that a short time later, Pharaoh and Egypt were defeated by a third country, Babylon. The holy city was destroyed, and Israel was sent into its seventy-year captivity in Babylon. The mention of Armageddon would bring to memory all the events that led to the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of Solomon’s Temple by the Babylonians.

This parallel would have been evident to St. John’s initial readers. The great spiritual reformer (Jesus) was killed by the leaders of the city that St. John code-names “Egypt.” But then in 70 A.D., this new Egypt (Old Jerusalem) is defeated and the holy city destroyed by Rome (GR3).

At this point, we must take serious exception with the teachings of many popular rapturists. They speak continually about the “Battle of Armageddon,” but there is not the slightest mention anywhere in The Apocalypse of a battle near the Mount of Megiddo, which is west of the Jordan River in the plain of Jezreel.

Read the passage again: “They assembled them at the place which is called in the Hebrew ‘Armageddon.’ ” It describes only the gathering of the army there, and that is precisely what occurred in the Jewish-Roman War. General Titus gathered his troops in this area between ancient Samaria and Galilee. From there he pushed into the siege that eventually destroyed Jerusalem and its Temple. There is no future Battle of Armageddon awaiting the world. This prophecy was completely fulfilled by Titus.

With the seventh bowl, “the great city was split into three parts” (16:19). We have encountered this symbolism of thirds twice already. They were both in anticipation of this more developed treatment.

This symbolisim was undoubtedly included by St. John to bring to mind the prophecy of Ezekiel: “O son of man, take a sharp sword; use it as a barber’s razor and pass it over your head and your beard; then take balances for weighing, and divide the hair. A third part you shall burn in the fire in the midst of the city, when the days of the siege are completed; and a third part you shall take and strike with the sword round about the city; and a third part you shall scatter to the wind, and I will unsheathe the sword after them” (5:1–2). Thus, Jerusalem was to suffer in three ways: death within the city by pestilence, death outside the city by sword, and the living death of exile. All three occurred when Rome defeated Jerusalem, just as Jesus had predicted in the Olivet Discourse.

The seventh plague, the hailstones, has an interesting fulfillment. The Roman army set up catapults to heave great stones into Jerusalem during the siege. Josephus tells us that each stone weighed about a talent, or approximately a hundred pounds. This was just what St. John predicted: “Great hailstones, heavy as a hundredweight, dropped on men from Heaven, till men cursed God for the plague” (16:21). Who could ask for a more historical fulfillment?

But Josephus adds a little irony in his narrative. When an incoming hailstone was spotted by the watchmen of Jerusalem, they would cry “out aloud, in their own country language, ‘The Son cometh’; so those that were in its way stood off … but the Romans contrived how to prevent that by blacking the stone” (WJ, V, 6:3). The irony is in the way Josephus translates the warning of the watchmen. In Hebrew the words for son and stone are ben and eben. These words could easily have been confused when the watchmen shouted their warning. But Josephus chose to record this misunderstanding in his book, which was not written in Hebrew, but in Chaldee or possibly Greek. In neither of these languages can the word for stone be misunderstood as the word for son.

Why would Josephus insert this ironic twist? He probably figured his Roman readers would get a good chuckle out of the irony of Jerusalem’s watchmen announcing the arrival of Caesar Titus, the son of Caesar Vespasian.

Of course, the Christian reader would discern an even deeper meaning. The coming of the stone was really a sign of the coming of the Son of man in judgment as predicted in Daniel and in the Olivet Discourse. Just as God came to judge Egypt in the army of the Assyrians, and just as God came to judge Babylon in the army of the Persians, so Christ came to judge Jerusalem in the army of the Romans (GR6).

The angel of the last bowl reveals Jerusalem just as the Church would perceive her: a harlot riding a scarlet beast. Remember, the Church is the Bride of Christ. We have already determined the identity of the harlot. The imagery surrounding the harlot reflects the Old Testament prophets’ denunciations of Jerusalem. The first three of the Major Prophets are emphatic in their denunciations of the harlotry of Jerusalem (Isa. 1:21, 57:8; Jer. 2:20, 3:1–25; Ezek. 16:15–39, 23:1–21). Hosea went a major step further. He married an unfaithful woman to illustrate dramatically the anguish and charity of God toward Israel, the harlot (Hos. 1:2ff).

The harlot (earthly Jerusalem) is the alter-ego of the Woman (the Church) who fled into the wilderness to escape the dragon. This contrast between these two women sets up a perfectly mirrored image of the battle in St. John’s visions. Christ joins battle on behalf of the Woman, New Jerusalem. He does battle with the harlot, old Jerusalem, who acts as the mouthpiece of the dragon. The description of this harlot dovetails with everything we have read about Jerusalem thus far in The Apocalypse.

The reference to the harlot’s being “seated upon many waters” is a reflection of Jeremiah’s description of the original Babylon, whose destruction was a type of Jerusalem’s destruction (51:13; GR3). But it is also true that Jerusalem was well known for its abundant source of spring water. This was one of the reasons Jerusalem was a difficult city to conquer. It could endure a long siege.

In this vision, the harlot sits on “a scarlet beast” that “had seven heads and ten horns” (17:3). We also know who this beast is from an earlier vision: none other than the sea-beast that symbolized Rome in the vision of the dragon’s strategy (III:A). Even rapturists admit this. The dragon’s ten horns are the ten provinces of the Roman Empire: Italy, Achaia, Asia, Syria, Egypt, Africa, Spain, Gaul, Britain, and Germany.

The harlot is “drunk with the blood of the saints and the blood of the martyrs of Jesus” (17:6). In the early days of the Church, Jerusalem’s religious leaders were the major persecutors of Christians. The book of Acts makes this quite clear. The harlot rides the scarlet beast; symbolizing Jerusalem’s use of pagan, idolatrous Rome to implement their persecution of the Christian Church. It took her three decades to get Rome to initiate the Great Tribulation, but she eventually succeeded in 64 A.D.

Jerusalem enjoyed tremendous influence within the ancient Roman Empire. Her influence was such that it would not be an exaggeration to say of ancient Jerusalem that she exercised “dominion over the kings” (17:18). Josephus tells his readers that “the royal city Jerusalem was supreme, and presided over all neighboring countries as the head does over the body” (WJ, III, 3:5). The fact that the city was defeated and destroyed can obscure for us the vast influence and power it held before it fell from favor.

This harlot also possesses vast wealth. “The woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet, and bedecked with gold and jewels and pearls” (17:4). Jerusalem straddled a major trade route in the ancient world. These merchants brought tremendous wealth into Jerusalem.

Just to be certain we do not misunderstand him, St. John points to the Woman’s identity by giving us a geographical clue related to the seven heads of the beast: “The seven heads are seven hills on which the woman is seated” (17:9).

The interesting twist from our twenty-first-century perspective is that there were two ancient cities surrounded by seven hills. Almost every modern student of ancient civilizations is aware that Rome is surrounded by seven hills. Many modern students do not know, however, that Jerusalem is also built upon seven hills. Josephus even records the names of these hills: “Zion, Acra, Moriah, Bezetha, Millo, Ophel, and Antonio” (WJ, V, 5:8). The Apocalypse was written for Jewish Christians. They would undoubtedly have thought of Jerusalem as the city on seven hills. Many of them would have actually been there and walked through those hills.

We can be sure that the city symbolized by the harlot could not have been Rome, as many rapturists teach. Besides the intertwined code names and images that we have already discussed, there is a simple reason right in this vision. St. John may have used vivid imagery. He may seem extravagant in his verbiage to a modern reader. He may be accused of being long-winded and repetitive. But St. John has not once been contradictory or illogical in these visions. And that is what he would have been if he had used the harlot to signify Rome.

The sea-beast on which the harlot has been riding will change its mind about this evil woman and ultimately “will hate the harlot … will make her desolate and naked, and devour her flesh and burn her up with fire” (17:16). It is illogical to make Rome the object of Rome’s hatred and destruction. It makes much better sense to see the sea-beast as Rome and the harlot as Jerusalem. This understanding also has the advantage of consistency with the rest of The Apocalypse.

There could be no clearer fulfillment of these verses than in the events of the decade leading up to 70 A.D. Jerusalem’s Sanhedrin had sought to repress the Christians from the very first beating they administered to Peter and John (Acts 4). Three decades later, in 64 A.D., they finally convinced the Roman authorities to help them in their pursuit and persecution of the Christians. The harlot Jerusalem then rode the beast Rome into the Church’s Great Tribulation. But in 66 A.D., Jerusalem revolted. The Roman Empire turned on the city of the seven hills in rage at this treachery and utterly destroyed Jerusalem and its Temple. The beast Rome did indeed “hate the harlot … make her desolate … and burn her up with fire.”

St. John informs us that the seven heads of the beast have a double meaning (GR4): “The seven heads are seven hills on which the woman is seated; they are also seven kings” (17:9–10). Throughout our examination of The Apocalypse, we have often noted a dual symbolism. The witnesses symbolize the Law and the Prophets, and also Moses and Elijah. The Woman symbolizes the Church and also Mary. The sea-beast symbolizes Rome and also her Caesars, whether Nero, Vespasian, or Titus. Here St. John explains that the seven heads symbolize not only the seven hills of Jerusalem, but also the seven kings who ruled the beast.

The seven horns “are also seven kings, five of whom have fallen, one is, the other has not yet come, and when he comes he must remain only a little while” (17:10). As we discussed in the vision of the battle strategy of the dragon, the Julio-Claudio lineage of Roman emperors began with Julius Caesar; then came Augustus, Tiberius, Caligula, and Claudius I. This would correspond to the method used by ancient Jews when counting emperors. These are the “five [who] have fallen.” Nero reigned after these five. Therefore, at the time of St. John’s vision, Nero is the who “is.” A seventh Caesar is spoken of as “the other [king who] has not yet come.” This would be Vespasian. He would not be emperor until mid to late 69 A.D. John predicts his reign before it is established (GR1). Vespasian came to attack Jerusalem, but “when he comes he must remain only a little while.” Vespasian actually led three campaigns against the Jews. The first one was in 67 A.D., the second in 68 A.D. When Nero died, Vespasian stopped fighting. He eventually went to Alexandria to intercept the grain shipments headed to Rome. He returned for a third short campaign in midsummer of 69 A.D. Since St. John’s perspective is that of 68 A.D., this short campaign is the one predicted here (GR1). When he left Judea after “a little while,” it was to return to Rome to claim the throne.

Nero (emperor number six) was the Caesar when The Apocalypse was penned. It was ultimately under the rule of Vespasian (emperor number seven) that Jerusalem was sacked and the Temple destroyed. That is why the beast has seven heads (GR2).

Here the humanity of John, the son of thunder (Mark 3:17), shines through. Although St. John has already given us an explanation of the seven heads, he cannot resist designating an eighth emperor. The mere mention of an eighth emperor illustrates John’s awareness of the nature of God’s Kingdom. Although the eternal Kingdom of Christ has been established, there will still be earthly governments here on earth, in this case another Roman emperor.

“As for the beast that was and is not, it is an eighth but it belongs to the seven, and it goes to perdition” (17:11). This is the same beast that “ascend[ed] from the bottomless pit” earlier in this vision (17:8). The beast that ascended is a clear reference to the “king … the angel of the bottomless pit … Abaddon,” who appeared at the head of the locust/scorpion army of the fifth trumpet! These visions really do review the same events again and again.

We have already determined that Abaddon was General Titus, the son of Vespasian. This would explain how he “belongs to the seven[th]”—by blood relation. How is it that Titus “was and is not” (17:11)? As of 68 A.D., Titus had been in Judea with his father for the war in 67 and 68 A.D. He was there, twice. But when Nero committed suicide, Vespasian sent Titus to Rome. This would explain the phrase “is not.” At this time, General Titus is not in Judea.

But Titus would return, to the consternation of Jerusalem. Considering his role in the winepress, is it any wonder that he would “go to perdition” (17:11)?

So once again we see one symbol, the sea-beast, serving as a sign for more than one reality. At times the beast is most clearly Nero; here it is most evidently Titus. In either case, however, the individual represents the Roman Empire, which is the primary reality that the beast symbolizes. But notice that these realities are all related in their fulfillment. They complement one another, just as Mary complements the Church, just as Moses complements the Law, and just as Elijah complements the Prophets.

Rip Van Winkle would be proud. Rapturists totally ignore the minute details already fulfilled by the harlot and the scarlet beast she rides. The shear number of details that fit the eight kings makes it outrageous for rapturists to ignore their clear fulfillment. They expect a future reformulation of the Roman Empire to fulfill these prophecies. They look to ten nations of the European Union as the ten kings. (This idea is much less ballyhooed about now that there are fifteen nations and counting in the European Union.) But why look for something in the future that has already been fulfilled, and in such detail? At the risk of sounding harsh, may I suggest that this is almost akin to what the Sanhedrin did? They, too, refused to see the detailed fulfillment of the Messianic prophecies in their own day. They, too, looked elsewhere for a fulfillment. They, too, wanted that fulfillment to be more physical and less spiritual. They, too, were wrong, trapped in their own kind of Winkle Warp.

Just as the seven heads have a double meaning, so do the ten horns of the sea-beast (GR4). We have seen that they were the ten provinces of the Roman Empire. Now St. John uses them to signify ten future kings, or emperors, who “have not yet received royal power, but they are to receive authority as kings for one hour, together with the beast” (17:12). This is obviously not a reference to the provincial kings who crossed the dry Euphrates with Titus to gather at Armageddon. This description clearly says they are future kings.

Their opponent is different as well. The beast and the ten provincial kings are presently at war with the harlot, Jerusalem. But these future emperors “will make war on the Lamb” (17:14). The object of their hatred will be Christ and His Church, rather than Jerusalem. It must have been sobering reading for Christians reeling from the Great Tribulation. St. John makes it very clear that even after the victory of Rome over Jerusalem, they will still have emperors of Rome eager to persecute them.

Nero is identified by the early Church Fathers as the first to use the official authority of the Roman empire to persecute Christians. But there would be “ten” more persecuting emperors who followed in his wake (TBR, 372), ten being the number of completeness (GR2).

The persecution ebbed and flowed and finally reached a climax around 303 A.D., during the reign of Emperor Diocletian. Entire towns of the empire, such as Phrygia, were executed down to the last person when they refused to sacrifice to the emperor. Tertullian wrote in the early third century: “If the Tiber reaches the walls, if the Nile does not rise to the fields, if the sky doesn’t move or the earth does, if there is famine, if there is plague, the cry is at once: ‘The Christians to the lions!’ ” (APO, 40:2). As St. John writes elsewhere in The Apocalypse, “Here is a call for the endurance and faith of the saints.”

Civil war raged in the empire after the death of Diocletian, and the next uncontested emperor of Rome was Constantine the Great in 324 A.D. He legalized Christianity, so that people would not be persecuted simply because they were members of the Church.

The Apocalypse had promised the struggling Church that this future persecution would be temporary. These persecutors would be “kings for one hour.” The short reign of these ten persecuting kings is contrasted with the Christ. Although the kings of the dragon appear invincible, they are not. They are only speed bumps on the road to eternity.

This is meant to draw a sharp contrast between the forces of the dragon and the forces of the Lamb. The ten kings “receive[d] authority for one hour.” With all its power, even the beast “was and is not.” Christ is a superior King. We learned at the beginning of The Apocalypse that Christ is He “who is and who was and who is to come” (1:4, 8). He is “the firstborn of the dead … the Alpha and the Omega” (1:5, 8). He states, “I am the first and the last, and the living one; I died, and behold I am alive forevermore” (1:17–18).

This is the essence of the Truth that the Rider on the white horse proclaims: live for the dragon, and enjoy yourself now. Live for God now, and be rewarded for all eternity.

After the plagues have run their course, another angel announces the results: “Fallen, fallen is Babylon the great!” (18:2). This should not surprise us, as this was declared by the second angel in the battle strategy of the Lamb.

We have finally found an article of fact on which the dragon and the Lamb can agree: Jerusalem should be nicknamed Babylon. The allies of the dragon, with their emphasis on power, would view this as the supreme compliment. The allies of the Lamb would understand this name as St. John intends it: it is a harbinger of this city’s doom because of its prideful disregard for God and His holiness.

An angel from Heaven warns the Christians, “Come out of her, my people” (18:4). The message is clear: get out of Jerusalem. Two reasons are given.

First, “lest you take part in her sins” (18:4). This hearkens back to the message of the letters to the churches and the oft-repeated admonition to endure and keep faith. It also reflects the admonitions in Hebrews, which we examined earlier. Given the environment of “Babylon” (Jerusalem) at the time of St. John’s visions, the holiness of the Christians was a major concern. Josephus describes the activities going on at the time in Jerusalem, but I will not detail them; they would make for very uncomfortable reading.

But the biggest sin of “Babylon” is mentioned toward the end of this vision: “All nations were deceived by thy sorcery” (18:23). Under the Davidic covenant, Jerusalem (Zion) was to be a light to the nations, a beacon that would point them to the true God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The Minor Prophets illustrate this clearly with their message to the nations. But instead of telling the Truth to the nations, as the Lamb did, Jerusalem “deceived” them in accord with the battle strategy of the dragon. This was her greatest sin. She did not live up to the covenantal responsibilities of David’s heirs. In fact, she killed those who tried to: “In her was found the blood of prophets and of saints” (18:24).

There is a second reason given for Christians to come out of Jerusalem, though. Leave, “lest you share in her plagues” (18:4). This echoes the warnings of the Olivet Discourse, but put into the context of the Great Battle that St. John is describing. We can hear the words of Jesus: “Flee to the mountains.… Let him who is on the housetop not go down.… Let him who is in the field not turn back.… For then there will be great tribulation” (Matt. 24:16–21). Judgment was coming upon “Babylon.” The message is clear: if you are there, you will share in its pain.

But even as her destruction unfolds, Jerusalem remains in complete denial. “Since in her heart she says, ‘A queen I sit, I am no widow, mourning I shall never see’ ” (18:7). This passage is lifted almost verbatim from Isaiah’s description of the original Babylon before her destruction (47:7–9). The Babylon of old grew complacent in her impregnability. In fact, Belshazzar was throwing a party at the very moment the Persian army was entering his stronghold. The old Babylon was mistaken in her complacency, and so was Jerusalem, the new Babylon. We have already noted the jeering of the inhabitants of Jerusalem, even after Titus had breached some of her defenses.

Jerusalem had been “widowed” before this. When Jerusalem was conquered by Babylon, it was described as “widowhood” because God her “husband” had forsaken her (Isa. 54:4–5).

She did not realize it in time, but now it was happening again half a millennium later. God turned His back on the Old Covenant when she rejected His Son, the Messiah. Zechariah made this clear when he broke his two staffs. The Old Covenant was being supplanted, never to be revisited again (Appendix Three). Jerusalem had traded the love of a faithful Husband for the powerful thrill of a scarlet beast, and now she would be required to face the consequences of her spiritual harlotry.

An angel announces that the city warranted this judgment: “A mighty angel took up a stone like a great millstone and threw it into the sea” (18:21). Once again St. John reminds his readers of the destruction of the original Babylon, this time by referencing a story from Jeremiah.

Before the destruction of the first Babylon, God had instructed Jeremiah to act out a drama to drive home his prophecy of defeat and captivity. Jeremiah wrote down the prophecies concerning the fall of Babylon. He instructed one of the Jewish prisoners to take these prophecies with him into captivity in Babylon. The Jew was to “read all these words, and say, ‘O Lord, Thou hast said concerning this place that Thou wilt cut it off, so that nothing shall dwell in it, neither man nor beast, and it shall be desolate forever.’ When you finish reading this book, bind a stone to it, and cast it into the midst of the Euphrates, and say, ‘Thus shall Babylon sink, to rise no more, because of the evil that I am bringing upon her’ ” (Jer. 51:61–64). The old Babylon was judged for its treatment of God’s holy people and vessels. Her fate was analogous to that of a stone sinking into a river. St. John draws a parallel to the sinking destruction of the new Babylon, Jerusalem (GR3).

The angel closes his statement with the phrase that reminds us, once again, that this is the ancient city of Jerusalem: “In her was found the blood of prophets and of saints, and of all who have been slain on earth.” That is why Jerusalem is being judged. Ever since God had chosen and loved His Old Covenant People, they had disregarded His messages. Their rejection had culminated in the Crucifixion of His Son.

Indeed, the millstone was an apt illustration. Jerusalem’s destruction was complete. First, the Temple was destroyed by the Romans in 70 A.D. It took the Romans three years to dismantle the city defenses and eventually erect a pagan shrine on the Temple site. Almost seventy years later, in 132 A.D., the Jewish leaders felt that perhaps their exile had been completed. The chief rabbi in Israel proclaimed Simon bar Kochba to be the Messiah. By 136 A.D., Roman soldiers stood once more victorious within Jerusalem. This time, the Romans completely leveled the city and expelled all Jews from Jerusalem. “Babylon the great … has become … a haunt of every foul spirit, a haunt of every foul and hateful bird” (18:2). Roman law made it punishable by death for a Jew to be caught within the boundaries of Jerusalem.

When the destruction finally takes place, the allies of Jerusalem’s secularized leadership are dismayed at its destruction. Three times this vision mentions that “in one hour has the judgment come.” This lament is taken up by the kings (18:10), then the merchants (18:17), and finally the sailors (18:19). All of these mourned the destruction of a powerful, wealthy, sophisticated trading center. “No one buys their cargo anymore, cargo of gold, silver, jewels and pearls, fine linen, purple, silks and scarlet … spice, incense, myrrh, frankincense, wine, oil … cattle and sheep” (18:11–13). Many of these expensive items were used in Temple worship at Jerusalem. Notice that there is no mourning over her spiritual demise. That had happened long before.

But there is another reaction to the destruction of Jerusalem and its Temple. In contrast to the three allies of Jerusalem (kings, merchants, and sailors), the three victims of the Jerusalem’s savage and relentless persecutions are told by the angel with the millstone to rejoice: “Rejoice over her, O Heaven, O saints and apostles and prophets, for God has given judgment for you against her!” (18:20).

The “saints” include those martyrs who met death during the Great Tribulation of 64 to 67 A.D. We first encountered these saints in Daniel’s vision of the strategy of the beasts (Dan. 7:21, 22, 25). In Daniel, we learned that Nero, the little horn, would persecute them. In The Apocalypse, we first encountered them under the altar in the throne room of God in the fifth seal of the initial vision (Apoc. 6:9–11).

There is joy in Heaven that the cry for justice from the martyrs under the altar has finally been answered. Now thrones have been provided for them. Justice is finally being served. “Praise our God, all you His servants.… Hallelujah! For the Lord our God, the Almighty, reigns” (19:5–6). God does answer prayer when we endure and remain faithful.

Immediately after the angel’s announcement, all Heaven bursts forth in rejoicing at God’s righteous judgment: “Hallelujah!… Hallelujah!… Amen. Hallelujah!… Praise our God, all you His servants, you who fear Him, small and great” (19:1–5). “A great multitude in Heaven” praises God because “He has judged the great harlot who corrupted the land with her fornication” (19:2). Notice that Babylon’s primary sin is idolatry, also known in the Old Testament as harlotry. The Sanhedrin compromised with Rome’s emperor worship, but the Church would not.

The scene of rejoicing in Heaven is outside the constraints of earthly time. As a result, the multitude continues its praises in anticipation of the “marriage of the Lamb” (19:7). The Bride of the Lamb is “clothed with fine linen … the righteous deeds of the saints” (19:8) for the marriage. We will come to the marriage next, in the final vision of The Apocalypse. This is another illustration of John’s repeated use of anticipation. We will soon encounter in depth “the Bride, the wife of the Lamb.”

Although the actual marriage of the Lamb is in the next vision, the marriage supper has been an underlying theme throughout The Apocalypse. This celebration began in the initial vision of the scroll with seven seals (Apoc. 4–5) and has been just below the surface ever since. It came into clear focus in the battle strategies of the Lamb and of God’s People, both of which centered on the Eucharist (Apoc. 14–15). We have noticed the similarity to the Mass as the four living creatures sang, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!”

Here the angel tells St. John, “Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb” (19:9): the Eucharist! This is not a common phrase in the Bible, but the concept is. The Eucharist is referred to as “the Lord’s supper” (1 Cor. 11:20). In Matthew 22, Jesus used the marriage feast to illustrate the invitation to join His Kingdom. Indeed, those who are invited are “blessed.” They are part of the Kingdom and will one day witness the “Bride” in all her splendor. In our present celebration of the Eucharist, we partake in the celebration that eternally continues in Heaven.

But we must keep in mind the warning of Jesus: “A man who had no wedding garment … [will be] cast into the outer darkness” (Matt. 22:11–13). The vision of The Apocalypse reminds us that the Bride is clothed in linen, and “the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints” (19:8). To attend the marriage feast, we must have the mark of God on our forehead, signifying loyalty, and on our hand, signifying righteous deeds.

So we have seen the three battle strategies played out. The dragon, with his emphasis on deceit and earthly power, was defeated by the eternal Truth that the Lamb speaks. Nowhere is this Truth more apparent or effective than in the Eucharist of the Lamb that was slain.

The Lamb has won the first round. In the next and last vision, we will see this strategy work for the Church again. Our faith in the Lamb should be strengthened because of this first victory. He has kept His promise, and He can be trusted to keep future promises.

St. John’s final vision transports us from here (70 A.D.) to eternity (GR9). As in Daniel’s last vision, St. John begins with the events of Daniel’s seventieth week and then extends his outlook to include the final eschaton.

As the visions of St. John have progressed, we have observed repeatedly the use of anticipation. We noticed it with the seals and trumpets, the dragon, the tabernacle and the Woman, the beast, the horse’s bridle, the marriage of the Lamb, and even Babylon. This device has tied the many visions of the book together into a cohesive whole.

The first time St. John used the technique of anticipation was in the first seal during the initial vision. A rider on a white horse appeared who, like the marriage supper of the Lamb, was a promise of a later hope. The rider on a white horse now reappears: “I saw Heaven opened, and behold, a white horse! He who sat upon it is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness He judges and makes war.… The name by which He is called is The Word of God.… On His robe and on His thigh He has a name inscribed, King of kings and Lord of lords” (19:11, 13, 16).

The picture St. John paints dovetails perfectly with the words of Jesus in the Olivet Discourse: “Then will appear the sign of the Son of man in Heaven, and then all the tribes of the land will mourn, and they will see the Son of man coming on the clouds of Heaven with power and great glory” (Matt. 24:30). We have already examined this passage and found that it undoubtedly refers to 70 A.D.

This rider symbolizes Christ’s victory over the Sanhedrin. Remember, this is apocalyptic literature, so we must not expect to see our Lord upon a literal white stallion at His coming into His Kingdom, nor must we believe that horses will suddenly learn to fly. The sword coming out of His mouth (19:15) is not made of tempered steel.

The sword is a symbol of the eternal Truth He embodies and speaks. That is the battle strategy of the Lamb. The Truth of the Word of God is so powerful that it conquers the physical kingdoms of this world and breaks the dragon’s power over people’s minds. This is the “stone” of Daniel that crushes the statue (Dan. 2:45). This is the “Son of man” coming to judge (Dan. 7:13; Matt. 24:30). This is the breaker of the scroll’s “seven seals” (Apoc. 5:9). This is the Child who will “rule with a rod of iron” (Apoc. 12:5). This is the treader of the “winepress of the fury of the wrath of God” (Apoc. 14:20). This is the nemesis of the dragon and its two beasts.

Here is the hope of The Apocalypse: Christ’s victory is inexorable because His weapon is Truth.

St. John makes clear that this is not a new battle. This rider on the white horse “will tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty” (19:15). This is a recapitulation of the battle described earlier in the battle strategy of the Lamb (14:17–20).

These verses are a word picture of the moment when Christ’s prediction in Matthew 24 was fulfilled. It is a snapshot of the earthly evidence that Daniel’s prophecy was fulfilled in Heaven. The Son of man “came to the Ancient of Days and was presented before Him. And to Him [the Son of man] was given dominion and glory and kingdom, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve Him; His dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and His kingdom one that shall not be destroyed” (Dan. 7:13–14).

Remember, Jesus Himself applied this prophecy of Daniel to Himself in His trial before the Sanhedrin (Matt. 26:64). Jesus told the priests who were conducting His trial that they would see this occur. He promised that “this generation will not pass away till all these things take place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away” (Matt. 24:34–35). This is not the second advent; it is His predicted coming on the clouds to judge the Sanhedrin. St. John wants his readers to be absolutely certain that Christ kept His promise. Because Christ kept that promise, we can endure in the assurance that Christ really will return! Rest assured, a major reason St. John wrote The Apocalypse was to point out that the judgment upon the Sanhedrin stands as a proof that the eternal judgment will come (GR3).

We now encounter a highly symbolic picture that, to be honest, is rather disturbing to twenty-first-century sensibilities. An angel “called to all the birds that fly in midheaven, ‘Come, gather for the great supper of God, to eat the flesh of kings … and the flesh of all men’ ” (19:17–18). Like so many other details of the visions of St. John, the meaning of this gruesome imagery becomes clearer after looking to the Old Testament.

In prophesying the victory over the original Babylon, Ezekiel painted a vivid picture of a sacrificial meal in celebration of victory (39:17–24). Although there is in both instances some literal fulfillment, this is not the main point of either passage. In Ezekiel, God states that this victory feast is proof to the entire world that “I am the Lord” (39:7). When the enemies of God are defeated, then “all the nations shall see my judgment which I have executed” (39:21). That is the main point. It is the same point that is made in the “Son of man” passage in Daniel. This is the implied threat that we noticed when Jesus responded to the High Priest at His trial (Matt. 26:64). By predicting and then judging the Temple, Christ proved to the entire world that God had coronated Jesus Christ as victor.

This is also precisely what Jesus claimed in the Olivet Discourse. He would use the Roman army to punish Jerusalem for its sins, and “the tribes of the land … will see the Son of man coming on the clouds of Heaven with power and great glory” (Matt. 24:30). In the destruction of Jerusalem, the world would finally understand the kingship of Christ. When we understand the Old Testament milieu from which St. John draws, it is clear that this is the description of the fulfillment of the Olivet Discourse. That fulfillment within a generation stands as proof of Christ’s promised return at the final eschaton.

The victorious Christ now metes out justice on behalf of His martyrs. The false prophet, also known as the land-beast Jerusalem, is “thrown alive into the lake of fire” along with the sea-beast. The lake of fire is the place of complete and final punishment. There is no return from its depths.

The false prophet is Jerusalem’s leadership, and this is an accurate picture of what happened to biblical Judaism in 70 A.D. It was utterly destroyed. The Jews returned from the Babylonian captivity to resurrect their sacrificial system, but biblical Judaism can never be validly reinstated after Rome’s destruction. The priestly line is lost, and the Temple site is desecrated, but most important, the unique relationship that Jerusalem had enjoyed with Yahweh has been superseded by another Bride. There is a marriage supper already in progress in the heavenly Jerusalem. The Messiah came, was rejected, and founded His new people, His ekklesia (Matt. 16:18). New olive branches have been grafted onto the old stump (Rom. 11). Christians should take no pleasure in the destruction of Jerusalem and biblical Judaism, but neither should we deny its irrevocability. The Old Covenant religion of Jerusalem’s Temple is history. Modern Rabbinic Judaism is not the same thing. Even if the Temple were rebuilt in Jerusalem, the Old Covenant cannot be revived.

Some have suggested that Christ’s judgment of the beast (Rome) and the false prophet (the Sanhedrin) is too severe, but they fail to understand the relationships involved. Christ’s bride, the Church, has been subjected by both the beast (the sea-beast) and the false prophet (the land-beast) to persecution, torment, and injustice. Their purpose has actually been the destruction of the Bride. Would not any loving bridegroom do what Christ does here? He says, “Get your hands off my Bride!”

The defeat of the sea-beast is most certainly a reference to the revolt of Rome against Nero, and his subsequent suicide. The imagery is lifted directly from Daniel’s vision of the four beasts: “The beast was slain, and its body destroyed and given over to be burned with fire” (Dan. 7:11). The beast has symbolized Nero elsewhere in The Apocalypse as the head of the Roman Empire. In this instance, he is identified as the one who “gathered to make war against Him who sits upon the horse and against His army” (19:19). This is a reference to the Great Tribulation: that intense, government-sponsored persecution of the Christian Church from 64 to 67 A.D., initiated at Nero’s direction. Clement of Alexandria identified Nero as the very first emperor to persecute the Christian Church (STO). In punishment for this persecution, Nero and his dynasty were destroyed forever. In fact, history tells us that the dynasty of Vespasian and Titus did not survive either. Any and all “beastly” actors in this drama perished forever.

But in addition to the religious leaders of Jerusalem and the Caesars of the Roman Empire, there was another group of evil men active in this drama. These men are loipos, “the rest [who] were slain by the sword” (19:21). In the initial vision, during the sixth trumpet, there is described a group of men of Jerusalem “who were not killed by these plagues, did not repent of the works of their hands nor give up worshiping demons and idols of gold and silver and bronze and stone and wood … nor did they repent of their murders or their sorceries or the immorality of their thefts” (9:20). These were the Zealots.

Josephus describes the lawless Zealots within Jerusalem: “Nor did any age ever breed a generation more fruitful in wickedness than this was, from the beginning of the world.… They were the slaves, the scum, and the spurious and abortive offspring of our nation, while they overthrew the city themselves … and did almost draw that fire upon the Temple.… When they saw that Temple burning from the upper city, they were neither troubled at it, nor did they shed any tears on that account” (WJ, V, 10:5).

Josephus goes on to suggest that “had the Romans made any longer delay in coming against these villains, that the city would either have been swallowed up by the ground opening upon them, or been overflowed by water, or else been destroyed by such thunder as the country of Sodom perished by, for it had brought forth a generation of men much more atheistical than were those that suffered such punishments; for by their madness it was that all the people came to be destroyed” (WJ, V, 13:6).

This remnant, loipos, remained defiant to the very end. Josephus tells us that, yes, “all the birds were gorged with their flesh” (19:21).

With this description of the judgment of Christ’s enemies in 70 A.D., St. John has completed all the events surrounding that year. In the timetable, we referred to these as past events. In Chapter 20, we leave the past (70 A.D.) and enter the present (the time from the destruction of biblical Judaism until the eschatological end of time). Verses 1 through 6 describe the situation in the present, from Jerusalem’s destruction until Christ returns in glory.

We are still within the timeframe of Daniel’s final vision, which also starts with the victory of Christ in 70 A.D. and ends in eternity with Daniel’s final judgment. We live today between those two points; this is a description of our time. Daniel’s week (seven decades) of covenantal transition are over. The six blessings that the Messiah gained for us during Daniel’s seventy weeks are being bestowed. Remember them? Daniel predicted that Christ was coming in His first advent “to finish the transgression, to put an end to sin, and to atone for iniquity, to bring in everlasting righteousness, to seal both vision and prophet, and to anoint a most holy” (Dan. 9:24).

This time of Church blessing is also known as the Millennium:

Then I saw an angel coming down from Heaven, holding in his hand the key of the bottomless pit and a great chain. And he seized the dragon, that ancient serpent, who is the Devil and Satan, and bound him for a thousand years, and threw him into the pit and shut it and sealed it over him, that he should deceive the nations no more, till the thousand years were ended. After that he must be loosed for a little while. Then I saw thrones, and seated on them were those to whom judgment was committed. Also I saw the souls of those who had been beheaded for their testimony to Jesus and for the word of God, and who had not worshiped the beast or its image and had not received its mark on their foreheads or their hands. They came to life, and reigned with Christ a thousand years. The rest of the dead did not come to life until the thousand years were ended. This is the first resurrection. Blessed and holy is he who shares in the first resurrection! Over such the second death has no power, but they shall be priests of God and of Christ, and they shall reign with Him a thousand years (20:1–6).

The highly symbolic language in this particular vision is striking. St. John continues the symbolism borrowed from Ezekiel that we witnessed in “the great supper of God” (19:17). That context should never be ignored.

Intractable problems arise when we attempt to interpret this vision too literally. First of all, what kind of chain would be able to hold an entirely nonphysical spirit such as Satan? What kind of seal would hold Satan in a pit? Can a pit really be bottomless?

St. John is clearly using symbolic language to describe a spiritual reality, but for some reason, people forget the nature of apocalyptic literature when they approach this vision (GR5, 6). This vision continues the story of the victory of Christ begun with “the great supper of God.” Not only will the beast, the false prophet, and the remnant of evil men be cast into the lake of fire; the dragon behind it all will not have free reign to deceive as he has up until this point. But this is not a permanent situation. After one thousand years, “he must be loosed for a little while” (20:7).

The “thousand years” is mentioned six times in seven verses. Remember, St. John is writing at the end of an apocalyptic book filled with visions that are not chronological. His repetition of a time reference should catch our attention. For at least these few verses, chronology is on the author’s mind. Obviously, he is now addressing a long period that follows on the heels of the previous visions of Jerusalem’s destruction. After many chapters of recapitulating visions, he is breaking new ground chronologically. Then, after these six verses, he makes clear that he is discussing a time after the thousand years are ended. “When the thousand years are ended …” (20:7). These six verses stand alone chronologically.

This raises the question: What does St. John mean by this thousand-year period? Does he mean there will be a future, earthly Kingdom distinct from the present Church age? More than one devout Catholic or Protestant has told me, “God said it. I believe it. That settles it.” This principle has a certain ring and a strong emotional appeal to it. And it sounds very holy. But unfortunately it begs the very question under consideration.

The question is not what is written: we can all read. The question is, what does it mean? Did St. John mean literal, 365-day years, or was he pointing to something symbolic (GR3)? I suggest the immediate context is highly symbolic.

So is the number itself. One thousand is ten cubed, a very complete number. Ten cubed has a reflection in the physical reality that ten to the fourth or fifth power does not have. Ten cubed is a reflection of an object with ten for its height, length, and depth.

One thousand is repeatedly used in the Bible to imply a large, but symbolic amount. For example, God owns the “cattle on a thousand hills” (Ps. 50:10). No one thinks to ask which hills are a part of the thousand, nor should we assume that God does not own the cattle on the hills not included in that thousand. He owns all the cattle on all the hills (and in all the valleys), which number far more than a thousand.

One thousand cubits is used symbolically four times as the depth of water flowing from below the threshold of the Temple (Ezek. 47:3–6). This chapter of Ezekiel is very important as a basis for the last three chapters of The Apocalypse (as we will see shortly). It is not at all a stretch to assume that the thousand years reflect the thousand cubits of water in Ezekiel. We will encounter this thousand cubits of water toward the end of this vision.

In addition to these two references, there are many more symbolic uses of one thousand in the Old Testament (Deut. 7:9 and Ps. 84:10; 90:4; 91:7; 105:8). The Davidic kingdom itself was said to last a thousand years, signifying a number too large to warrant counting.

St. John certainly understood this symbolism. To claim that this passage teaches that the kingdom of Christ must exist for exactly one thousand years makes no more sense than to ask how a chain could bind Satan. Numbers have a different role to play in apocalyptic literature (GR2). St. John uses a thousand years to signify a large, complete time. The time will extend past the lifetime of even someone’s great-grandchild’s great-grandchild. Christ’s Kingdom will endure on earth at least as long as even King David’s.

So what do we know so far? Following the public vindication of Christ, Satan is kept from “deceiv[ing] the nations” for an extremely long period, figuratively spoken of as a thousand years. At present, he is restrained by God’s power; “after that he must be loosed for a little while.” This is the same chronology as St. Paul noted, although he told us specifically that the Church was living during the time of the “restraining” of Satan (2 Thess. 2:6).

St. John includes a description of the activities of Christ and His Church during the Millennium. The Church “reigned with Christ a thousand years” (20:4). Lo and behold! This is a description of the Kingdom that was established as a result of Christ’s Passion and Resurrection. This Kingdom was mentioned all the way back in the initial vision before any of the seals. “Thou wast slain and by Thy blood didst ransom men for God from every tribe and tongue and people and nation, and hast made them a kingdom and priests to our God” (5:9–10). This Kingdom was won on the Cross, was proclaimed at Pentecost when the Holy Spirit came, and was vindicated when Christ judged the Sanhedrin by destroying their Temple.

Rapturists disagree. They claim that these six verses are the clearest enunciation of a still-future Millennium in the Bible. This paragraph is not only their clearest hope of a biblical basis for their theology; it is their only hope. This concept, so important in American Protestantism, is mentioned nowhere else in Scripture!

In these few short verses, rapturists claim to find the cornerstone for their belief in premillennialism. They believe that at this time the Church will have been secretly raptured. (Even though this event is never mentioned, they insert it at the beginning of The Apocalypse.) Then the Jewish people will endure the Great Tribulation and finally recognize their Messiah. Then there will be a thousand-year reign of Christ here on earth, the Millennium. They cite these brief verses as support for this scenario, claiming that they teach:

1. All Christians will have a reigning role in Christ’s future earthly Kingdom.
2. All Christians will be resurrected in their glorified bodies at the start of this thousand years.
3. Christ will be physically present on earth, reigning from the throne of David in Israel.

But look at these verses carefully. Not one of these three statements is actually taught in this vision. By looking at what is not taught here, we should get closer to a clear understanding of what is taught in this part of the vision of the end.

• Point 1: All Christians will reign. “All Christians will have a reigning role in this future Kingdom.” Actually, two groups of people are mentioned as ruling in this Kingdom. First, those for whom thrones had been “committed” (20:4). This seems to be an obvious reference to the Apostles, who had been promised this role by Jesus Christ before His Passion: “Truly, I say to you, in the new world, when the Son of man shall sit on His glorious throne, you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones” (Matt. 19:28).

The other group who rule are those martyrs who died during the battles with the beast, those “who had not worshiped the beast” (20:4). We know these people! They have already been mentioned in The Apocalypse. Most notably, they were under the altar in the initial vision (6:9–10). In that passage, they petitioned for justice to be served on their oppressors. They are not only given justice now, but also participate in dispensing it. They are given the opportunity to reign with Christ, alongside the Apostles.

Notice that it is “souls” who are mentioned as ruling (20:4). Nowhere are we given the slightest justification for assuming these are souls with bodies. They are not. The resurrection of all people for their final judgment has not occurred yet. Not until the resurrection of all humanity will souls be given their glorified bodies like Christ (20:12).

These martyrs are the saints who rejoiced at the defeat of “Babylon” (18:20). They do reign. They are given the opportunity to affect history. We saw that already. The prayers of the martyrs affect events on earth. This is not sometime in the future; this occurs right now. These reigning souls are the saints in Heaven right now, the Church Triumphant. Catholics make requests of saints in Heaven for just this reason: they are present with Christ in a ruling role. If they take up our cause before Christ, it will more likely be accomplished (James 5:16). This Millennium is a present reality with benefits bestowed through the victory of the Lamb during the week of covenantal transition.

We would be remiss not to note how these Christians reign: “They shall be priests of God and of Christ.” Rapturists adamantly maintain that there is no role for the sacerdotal duties of the priest in the New Covenant. But St. John states simply that this is their primary function. The Millennial Kingdom is the present ecclesiastical one. The fact that St. John feels no need to justify the statement makes it all the more significant. He assumes that, although his readers may need to have the meaning of the first resurrection explained (as we will see in a moment), they certainly would not question the need for and role of the Church’s priesthood in ruling with Christ. The reason is simple: St. John was a priest himself.

Nowhere does this passage teach that all Christians will be involved in ruling during this thousand-year Kingdom of Christ. Actually, the very fact that two distinct groups are mentioned specifically implies that not all Christians will be given the opportunity to rule during this time.

Of course, a well-informed Catholic already knows that, during this period, there are two groups of Christians not ruling from Heaven. The Church Militant is a name for the Christians on earth during this time. You and I find our place with this group, sometimes also called the Pilgrim Church. The other group of Christians during this time is the Church Suffering, who are in the process of purification in a place traditionally known as Purgatory (CCC, pars. 1030–1032).

So, the best understanding of these six verses is that they describe the present state of affairs, what some call “the Church age.” The Church Triumphant in Heaven assists the Church Militant on earth through prayer. The Church Militant, in turn, can help the Church Suffering through prayer.

• Point 2: Resurrection precedes the Millennium. We now turn to the second rapturist claim: “Christians will be resurrected in their glorified bodies at the start of these thousand years.” Here we must not forget that we are reading apocalyptic literature that uses the imagery of physical resurrection to describe the spiritual reconstitution, renewal, or rejuvenation of God’s people. This is not something new; it runs throughout the Bible (GR7).

Even our entry into the Church is designated as “regeneration,” a resurrection of the spiritually dead. The sacrament of Baptism is imbued with this resurrection symbolism. Let’s take the example of a new convert in the early Church. He would have been placed under water by the baptizer three times. The baptizer would have said, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and the name of the Son, and the name of the Holy Spirit.” Going into the water symbolizes death to this world and its appetites. Coming out of the water symbolizes the new life to which a Christian is called via the power of the Holy Spirit. The new Christian has been resurrected to a new life in Christ.

The “first resurrection” that John mentions here is not a physical one, but the taking of a soul to Heaven by God. Upon death, these Christian saints join the Church Triumphant. It is the ultimate renewal and reconstitution of God’s people! To the casual reader, it may not seem like much of a resurrection at all. So St. John specifically tells the reader what it is: “This is the first resurrection” (20:5).

The first resurrection is experienced only by Christian saints, including the martyrs of the Neronian persecution. Upon death, they are bestowed with a ruling role in the Kingdom. Only Christian saints experience this immediate “first resurrection.” “The rest of the dead did not come to life until the thousand years were ended” (20:5).

Those who experience the first resurrection will never experience “the second death, the lake of fire” (20:15). The letter to Smyrna anticipated this idea with significant detail: “He who conquers shall not be hurt by the second death” (2:11). The Christians in Smyrna were fighting the temptation of those in the “synagogue of Satan.” The Jewish leaders were using persecution to entice Christians to forsake their faith in Christ and return to the Old Covenant sacrifices. The Apocalypse assures the Church in Smyrna that those who die in the Faith will not be hurt by the second death: eternal separation from God in the lake of fire after the final judgment.

Let us now apply this insight. “Blessed and holy is he who shares in the first resurrection! Over such the second death has no power” (20:6). See the parallel? A group of people are described, over whom the second death (damnation) has no power. They are described as those who conquer (keep the Faith to the death) in Chapter 2, and then they are described as those who experience the first resurrection in Chapter 20. These are Christian saints who die and immediately go to rule with Christ in Heaven.

St. Paul expounds the same teaching in his letter to the Corinthian Church: “We know that while we are at home in the body, we are away from the Lord … and we would rather be away from the body [first death] and at home with the Lord [first resurrection]” (2 Cor. 5:6, 8).

Let us sum it all up:

1. First death is when any human dies.
2. First resurrection is when the soul of the Christian saint goes to Heaven at the first death.
3. Second resurrection is when all are raised to be judged at the final judgment.
4. Second death is damnation, judgment in the lake of fire at the great white throne.

There is no indication in this vision that all Christians will be physically resurrected at some future point to rule for a thousand years. The first resurrection has been occurring throughout the Church age, as Christian saints have died and their souls have entered Heaven.

• Point 3: Christ will reign on earth physically. In examining the rapturists’ third claim, we need only look at the language of the passage. Nowhere does it say that “Christ will be physically present on earth, reigning from the throne of David in Israel.” Nowhere does this passage even imply a physical, earthly kingdom in Jerusalem, Israel. It seems almost blasphemous to picture Christ seated on a throne doing administrative tasks, involved in ruling the day-to-day affairs of the earth. Rather, His Kingdom is spiritual. His Kingdom is universal. His Kingdom is ecclesiastical.

Thrones are mentioned, as is Christ. But locating these events on earth rather than in Heaven reads something into the passage. The souls of the martyrs are specifically mentioned as being in Heaven under the altar (6:9). Since those souls are also reigning, it is more consistent to understand them as still being in Heaven. Nowhere do we have reason to deduce that these are embodied souls. They are ruling with Christ, who in this vision is ruling from Heaven.

These are all spiritual realities. It makes no sense to try to plant Christ on a physical throne in Jerusalem (GR6).

St. John describes the “Church age” in this passage (20:1–6). This age started with the birth of the Church at Christ’s Passion. Satan was then definitively defeated, but his public “chaining” occurred when the Temple in Jerusalem fell. From this point, Christ reigns with His saints over a worldwide spiritual Kingdom. The blessings of Daniel are being bestowed via the “strong covenant” he predicted (Dan. 9:27). The forces of evil are hampered by God’s restraining of Satan. The saints of the Church Triumphant in Heaven have undergone the first resurrection. By their prayers, they are active in the affairs of the earthbound Church Militant during the entire Millennium. The reign of Christ and His Church will extend for a very long time, until the Father’s plan is complete. At that point, Christ will again physically enter human history at the second advent.

Some rapturists maintain that the majority of the early Church Fathers believed in a literal, physical, future thousand-year reign of Christ on earth. I believe that this is a misunderstanding of the record. Yet it is a claim worth examining.

Throughout our examination, we have repeatedly referred to the Commentary on The Apocalypse, written by Victorinus in 270 A.D. This earliest extant explanation of The Apocalypse speaks of the Millennium clearly: “Those years wherein Satan is bound are in the first advent of Christ, even to the end of the age; and they are called a thousand, according to that mode of speaking, wherein a part is signified by the whole, just as is that passage, ‘the word which He commanded for a thousand generations,’ although they are not a thousand.… [During this time] the Devil [is] excluded from the hearts of believers.… That is, [God] forbade and restrained his seducing those who belong to Christ” (COA, XX).

Eusebius is known as the father of Church history. He makes it clear that those who believed in a future, literal, physical reign of Christ were a fringe element of the Church, whose beliefs were odd in other ways as well. They accepted questionable, noncanonical teachings of Christ (perhaps now lost), as well as some of the more unbelievable apocryphal stories about Christ. Although they appeared early in Church history, and were at times even numerous, worldwide they were always in the minority.

This is how Eusebius describes them: “This same historian [Papias] also gives other accounts, which he says he adds as received by him from unwritten tradition, likewise certain strange parables of our Lord, and of His doctrine and some other matters rather too fabulous. In these he says there would be a certain millennium after the resurrection, and that there would be a corporeal reign of Christ on this very earth; which things he appears to have imagined, as if they were authorized by the apostolic narrations, not understanding correctly those matters which they propounded mystically in their representations. For he was very limited in his comprehension, as is evident from his discourses; yet he was the cause why most of the ecclesiastical writers, urging the antiquity of man, were carried away by a similar opinion; as, for instance, Irenaeus, or any other that adopted such sentiments” (EH, III:39).

Some try to draft St. Jerome into the premillennialist camp. Yet he clearly taught that “the Holy City denote[s] the present world” (REV, 65).

Justin Martyr, too, is supposed by some rapturists to have been an early example of premillennialism. But listen to his words: “The Spirit of prophecy speaks … in this way: ‘For out of Zion shall go forth the law.… And He shall judge among the nations … and they shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.’ And it did so come to pass, we can convince you. For out of Jerusalem there went out into the world, men, twelve in number, and these illiterate, of no ability in speaking: but by the power of God they proclaimed to every race of men that they were sent by Christ to teach to all the word of God” (ACR, XXXIX). Justin Martyr makes it clear that he believed the peace promises of the Old Testament were a present reality.

How do we reconcile this very amillennial (Catholic) statement of Justin Martyr with his supposed reputation as a premillennialist? Actually, I think he was being inconsistent. His basic view is definitely amillennial, because he clearly believed the Kingdom’s benefits were readily available in the Church. Yet the idea that the Messiah would “reign on earth for one thousand years … is rooted deeply in early Jewish apocalyptic tradition” (NCE, IX, 852). He adopted the prevailing mindset of the Jewish apocalyptic tradition without thoroughly Christianizing it. As a result, he ended up with a belief system that at points contradicted itself. But regardless of that, Justin Martyr did see the benefits of the Millennium as already a present reality. He cannot be regarded as a justification for the rapturist viewpoint by any means.

Ultimately, the key issue is not what certain writers of the early Church believed. The crucial issue for Catholics revolves around the beliefs held by the successors to the Apostles, the bishops of the early Church. As a whole, they vehemently repudiated premillennial notions of a corporeal kingdom on earth distinct from the Church. We need not count heads. It is enough to remember that the Eastern part of the early Church refused to recognize the canonicity of The Apocalypse because some perceived it as premillennialist. It was only when the Western part of the early Church succeeded in convincing the East that premillennialism was not integral to this book that it was universally accepted as canonical.

Of course, that is the view of this book that we have been expounding. But we must not miss the point. The Church was willing to reject as inspired any book that did teach premillennialism. Why? The bishops were overwhelmingly not premillennial. They believed the Millennium had begun at Christ’s first advent and would end at His second advent. They believed in a thoroughly spiritual Kingdom, the Church. During the first few centuries of the Church, a thousand years was “further than the eye could see.”

I grew up as a rapturist. I was convinced of the truth of these beliefs for much of my adult life, and I know how most rapturists would respond. They would say something like this: “David, the world today just does not fit the description of what the Millennium is supposed to be like. Where is the lion lying down with the lamb? Where is worldwide peace?”

It may surprise these rapturists to know that the early Church did believe that the world had changed in precisely this way, due to the preaching of the gospel. This includes even those they try to claim as premillennialists, such as Justin Martyr. Reread his quotation six paragraphs above. He wrote, “ ‘… neither shall they learn war anymore.’ And it did so come to pass, we can convince you.”

From our perspective two millennia later, we perhaps do not fully appreciate the impact the gospel had on humankind in the first century. St. Athanasius certainly saw his fair share of strife. Yet like Justin Martyr, he firmly believed that the peace promised in the Millennium had already arrived. “Who is He that has united in peace men that hated one another, save the beloved Son of the Father?… It was prophesied of the peace He was to usher in, where the Scripture says: ‘They shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their pikes into sickles, and nation shall not take the sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.’ … Even now those barbarians cannot endure to be a single hour without weapons: but when they hear the teaching of Christ, straightway … instead of arming their hands with weapons, they raise them in prayer” (INC, LII).

Unlike these early Church Fathers, it seems that present-day rapturists want to see a smithy on television hammering someone’s sword into a farm implement. But is not this the same problem that plagued the Sanhedrin? They would not accept John the Baptist as the new Elijah, nor Jesus as the Messiah, because the fulfillment was not tangible enough for their standards.

Origen would say that rapturists are looking for too literal a fulfillment; that a careful reading of Scripture leads one to believe that God never envisioned a physical, political kingdom. “Many, not understanding the Scriptures … have fallen into heresies.… They think, also, that it has been predicted that the wolf, that four-footed animal, is, at the coming of Christ, to feed with the lambs … and the bull to pasture with lions, and that they are to be led by a little child to the pasture … that lions also will … feed on straw.… Some have not believed in our Lord and Savior, judging that those statements which were uttered respecting Him ought to be understood literally … that He ought also to eat butter and honey, in order to choose the good before He should come to know how to bring forth evil.… Now, the cause, in all the points previously enumerated, of the false opinions, and of the impious statements or ignorant assertions about God, appears to be nothing else than not understanding the Scripture … but [understanding] the interpretation of it agreeably to the mere letter” (TPR, IV:1:7–8).

I can almost hear the rapturist sighing and admitting, “Okay, maybe the early Church did interpret Scripture differently from the way we do. But say what you will, there still does not seem to be a Millennial Kingdom of Christ evident in the world today. Christ and His morality have just as many enemies as friends in the world in this age—maybe more.”

To which I say: Dealing with enemies is what reigning entails. Christ does not wait to reign until after complete and total victory. That is how we, the Church Militant, are active in cooperating with the Church Triumphant. Christ “must reign until He has put all His enemies under His feet” (1 Cor. 15:25). St. Paul assumed that the overcoming of Christ’s enemies was the main focus of ruling the Kingdom! The battle can be exhilarating when you already know who will win. We are sure Christ will be victor in the end, because He kept His appointment with the Sanhedrin: He judged them within the generation He had predicted.

Although visions in apocalyptic literature do not necessarily follow chronological order (GR8), St. John clearly and specifically places the next events immediately at the conclusion of Christ’s Kingdom: “And when the thousand years are ended” (20:7). This is a time statement. St. John announces his intention to be specific about the order of events. He started this vision with Christ’s vindication in 70 A.D. and continued it into the Millennium that signifies the present Church age, in which we live. What he is about to describe comes at the end of the Millennium, at the end of the spiritual Kingdom over which Christ has ruled; at the final eschaton. This is the first time in all of these visions that the final events of history are in focus (GR3).

Do you feel as if all you ever do is fight a battle with evil? Well, the best is yet to come! After the extremely long and complete kingdom age—“the thousand years”—there will be one final confrontation between good and evil: “When the thousand years are ended, Satan will be loosed from his prison, and will come out to deceive the nations … Gog and Magog, to gather them for battle. And they marched up over the broad earth … but fire came down from Heaven and consumed them, and the Devil … was thrown into the lake of fire and brimstone where the beast and the false prophet were, and they will be tormented day and night forever and ever” (20:7–10).

This description begins at the moment described by St. Paul: “He who now restrains it will do so until he is out of the way” (2 Thess. 2:7). St. Paul is not speaking in apocalyptic language, however, so he makes it clear this is at the end of the Church age.

Notice that there is no reference to a revival of the beast (sea-beast) or the false prophet (land-beast). This is a common rapturist premise, that the beast and the false prophet will be active at the final battle. But they have already been defeated and destroyed in the first century. Since the antichrist is still in the future, there will have been at least two millennia between the defeat of the beasts and the defeat of Satan and his antichrist. That gap is not presumptuous; it is right in the text. After his defeat, Satan is cast into “the lake of fire” to join the beast and the false prophet. They are already there, awaiting the reunion with their dragon.

The reference to “Gog and Magog” gives us further evidence that this is the final battle. Originally Gog was the king of Magog. In the Old Testament, Gog and Magog ultimately took on the aura of a mythical people, representing the entire heathen world as it opposed Yahweh. Gog and Magog were the subject of Ezekiel in Chapters 38 and 39. The battle language here and in Ezekiel have the same sense of finality. God states, “I will not let my holy name be profaned anymore” (39:7).

In Ezekiel, the evil Gog and Magog are condemned for plotting war against God’s people when they are least expecting it. They “devise an evil scheme and say, ‘I will … fall upon the quiet people who dwell securely … to assail the … people who were gathered from the nations’ ” (38:10–12). This mirrors the words of Jesus when He described the world situation immediately before the final battle and His return. In His answer to the second question of the Olivet Discourse, Jesus predicted that, at His second coming, people would be living their normal, everyday lives in peace and security, without any expectation of the flood about to encompass them (Matt. 24:37–39).

The Apocalypse gives few details about the final battle. But it is certainly different from any battle envisioned so far in The Apocalypse. The army is as numerous as “the sand of the sea” (20:8). God promised Abraham that his children of faith would one day be as numerous as “the sand of the sea” (Gen. 32:12). The use of this phrase is meant to show the immense breadth and depth of Satan’s influence with mankind once he is released. As always, his forces appear at least as numerous and powerful as Christ’s.

The army of Gog and Magog “marched over the broad earth and surrounded the camp of the saints and the beloved city.” “The beloved city” has not been mentioned yet in The Apocalypse. This Greek word agapao is used commonly in the New Testament in reference to Christians. This final confrontation will be between Satan with his followers and Christ with His faithful. Whether that city is an actual location on earth is doubtful. This seems to be another method of referring to the Church Militant. The new people of God will be savagely assaulted by Satan and all the evil forces he can muster.

Amazingly, there are no details of a battle. When Gog and Magog surround the saints, when prospects for the Church are at their blackest, “fire came down from Heaven and consumed them” (20:9). That is it. Divine judgment is administered quickly. “And the Devil … was thrown into the lake of fire” (20:10). The “Battle of Armageddon” that so many rapturists foresee will probably not resemble the final battle at all. As we have already determined, the events of Armageddon actually occurred two millennia ago (and The Apocalypse never tells of a battle at Armageddon anyway). The final battle of Gog and Magog will be primarily a spiritual assault on the Church.

Many Christians wish to have more details about this final battle between Satan and God. But we need not fear. Although few details are related, the end of this final conflict is certain. These verses witness “God’s victory over the final unleashing of evil, which will cause His Bride [the Church] to come down from Heaven” (CCC, 677). That is as we would expect. After all, Christ won the Great Battle of the prior vision partially to give us assurance that He will emerge as the victorious Judge in the end.

The battle of Gog and Magog will end with the utter defeat of Satan and his forces. Immediately after the victory of Christ over Satan, “a great white throne” is set up for judgment (20:11). The second resurrection occurs, which is the bodily resurrection of all people for judgment on the basis of “what they had done” (20:12). Remember the strategy of the Child? “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord henceforth … for their deeds follow them” (14:13). The battle strategy of the Lamb involved telling us the Truth about reality: that what we do here and now will be accounted for at the final, general judgment.

At the end of the Olivet Discourse, Jesus told His disciples this would happen. Not only is what we believe important, but also what we do. Jesus specifically mentions the corporal works of mercy: “I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink; I was a stranger and you welcomed me; I was naked and you clothed me; I was sick and you visited me; I was in prison and you came to me” (Matt. 25:35–36).

Rapturists postulate a total of two, three, or four judgments still in the future. (Part of this is based on their faulty view of the Church, which we have already discussed.) But this one great-white-throne judgment is really the only general, universal judgment contained in Scripture. (The only other one we face is our own particular judgment, which follows our own death.)

Those “not found written in the book of life” join Satan, Death, and Hades in their eternal destruction in the “lake of fire.” This is “the second death” (20:14–15).

We are at the very end, when time dissolves into the more substantive reality of eternity. One way we know this is that Death is “thrown into the lake of fire” (20:14). And we know from St. Paul that death is the last enemy to be conquered (1 Cor. 15:26).

In perhaps his last use of anticipation, St. John uses this destruction of death to unite the great-white-throne judgment to the “new Heaven and … earth.” He has mentioned the death of Death and now links it to our heavenly encounter with God: “God himself will be with them [His People]; and He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more” (21:4). The destruction of death is accomplished. The consequences of Adam’s choice have finally been reversed by Christ.

Another indication that we are at the very end of time is that our Heaven and earth have been destroyed: “I saw a new Heaven and a new earth; for the first Heaven and the first earth had passed away” (21:1). This is reflective of the language of St. Peter: “The day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a loud noise” (2 Pet. 3:10).

St. John tells us this new Heaven and new earth will have no sea (21:1). What a seemingly strange attribute! But this doesn’t necessarily mean there won’t be large bodies of water. Remember, in the Old Testament, the sea was commonly a reference to the Gentiles, the outsiders of God’s kingdom, the unbelievers. There are no more unbelievers at this point. All the evil and faithless have already been cast into the “lake of fire,” and all those left are followers of Christ. History and time melt away, and eternity asserts itself (20:15).

The wonderful eternity in store for these followers of Christ is now St. John’s final topic. We approach the climax of all biblical events since Genesis (GR3). In the first three chapters of Genesis, God creates the earth, and then Adam and Eve defile it through sin. Now history and the Scriptures culminate in “a new Heaven and a new earth.”

The Church Militant and the Church Suffering are subsumed into the Church Triumphant: “I saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down out of Heaven from God prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.… ‘Behold, the dwelling of God is with men’ ” (21:2–3). This is the “marriage of the Lamb” for which “the marriage supper of the Lamb” makes our hearts yearn (19:7, 9). The joy of the Eucharist becomes ever present. The people of God now enjoy God’s presence forever.

This is not a new theme in Scripture. It is contained within the Old Testament prophets: “The new heavens and the new earth which I will make shall remain before me, says the Lord” (Isa. 66:22).

Who does this? God alone is mighty enough to destroy the world and remake it in perfection. He proclaims, “Behold, I make all things new” (21:5). Here stands the pinnacle of The Apocalypse. These are the first words in the whole book spoken by God from His throne in Heaven.

It is a fitting finale. God really was in control. It may not have seemed possible, but He was the mover behind it all. He ushered His Bride into eternity for the marriage of the Lamb. He was the One to “make all things new.”

Congratulations are once again in order! With verse 21:5a, we have completed the visions of The Apocalypse that describe the casting out of the Old Covenant in favor of the New Covenant, along with the final extension of our vision all the way to eternity. Three times St. John has examined the Jewish-Roman War, repeatedly giving us new insights into many of the key characters involved in that drama. Along the way, he has helped us to develop a much clearer view of Christ’s Bride, the Church.

We are now at the end of St. John’s visions of The Apocalypse. Beginning in 21:5b, we start a summary of the themes of these visions. Notice that St. John is still reflecting Daniel’s outline: Daniel 13 and 14 are a thematic summary of Daniel’s message. St. John tells us when he is ready to give us his thematic summary of The Apocalypse by deliberately repeating a unique phrase found in Daniel.

In Daniel’s initial vision, where the mystery of the Messianic Kingdom was first revealed, King Nebuchadnezzar gave his assessment of the vision by praising God and promoting Daniel and his friends. But to signal the end of the vision and interpretation, and to introduce the assessment of the king, Daniel says, “The dream is true and the interpretation is trustworthy” (Dan. 2:45, NIV). We know that St. John would have studied this passage in the Septuagint or a similar Greek translation. The English word true is from the Greek alethinos, and trustworthy is from the Greek pistos. St. John uses this unique pair of Greek words, when, like Daniel, he ends his visions and introduces the assessment of the King.

Christ the King “who sat upon the throne” now speaks: “These words are trustworthy and true” (21:5)—alethinos and pistos. Just as we did in Daniel’s vision, we now will get the assessment of the King. In this case, the King is Christ.

St. John takes Daniel one step further, using this phrase to signal the end of his thematic summary. When the angel speaks the words alethinos and pistos, we know that the thematic summary has been completed (22:6). After that, the book ends with concluding remarks, a blessing and a warning (22:7b–21).

In this last segment of The Apocalypse, it is as if St. John were put into an armchair and told to relax for the rest of the book. In the previous sections of The Apocalypse, we were given the perspectives of Heaven, of the Sanhedrin, of the Church, of friends of Jerusalem, and of the martyrs. Now we will be treated to God’s thematic summary. This is actually an overview of the Church itself. It has three parts: the Church’s gospel message, the Church’s nature, and the Church’s mission. This emphasis on the Church should not surprise us. Remember that the battle strategy of God’s People was to build the Temple (the Church) of God.

In summarizing the Church’s message to the world, God states that there are two groups of people. Those who do not respond to Him with upright lives will be subjected eternally to “the lake that burns with fire and brimstone” (21:8). In contrast, “he who conquers shall have this heritage, and I will be his God and he shall be my son” (21:7). Have we heard this so often that its novelty has worn off? Remain faithful to God, and you will be God’s son! This is the divine filiation, the divination of humanity, of which the early Church Fathers spoke so often. God does not desire slaves, but true “heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ” (Rom. 8:17; Gal. 4:7; James 2:5).

The grace of God in making this possible is almost beyond comprehension. It is a gift from Him. “To the thirsty I will give water without price from the fountain of the water of life” (21:6). This grace that starts us in the Christian pilgrimage is free and undeserved. Jesus promised this same “free water” of the Holy Spirit when He was talking to the Samaritan woman: “Whoever drinks of the water that I shall give him will never thirst; the water that I shall give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (John 4:13–14).

What is this free water? Why, it is nothing other than the life of God Himself. God enlivens us with the Holy Spirit through no merit of our own. The sacrament of Baptism is both the symbol and the enabling substance of the Holy Spirit’s work in a new Christian. In love, God makes us His very own children.

Yet God’s free gift requires a loyal response, and that response is undeniably more than just mental assent. “He who conquers shall have this heritage.” Although the initial grace to begin the journey is free and undeserved, God expects much of His children. By enduring under trial, we become true sons and daughters of God. That is “conquering.” The “eternal gospel” proclaimed by the first angel in the strategy of the Lamb has not changed (14:6–7); the Truth coming from the rider’s mouth as a sword is ever the same: the gift is free, but never cheap. It is our responsibility to obey the gospel that never changes: “Fear God … and worship Him” (14:7). Our response will determine our everlasting fate.

The mission of the Bride is to bring the Truth of Christ to the world, and it revolves around the twin images of light and water.

The light of the Church has been a central theme of The Apocalypse under a different symbol: the sword of Truth that Christ wields. As we on earth wait for the second advent, we are to shine the light of Truth into every aspect of reality. It will cut like a sword. “By its light shall the nations walk; and the kings of the earth shall bring their glory into it, and its gates shall never be shut by day—and there shall be no night there; they shall bring into it the glory and the honor of the nations” (21:24–26).

The unbelieving world finds Christ’s Truth most clearly displayed in the lives of faithful Christians. Elsewhere, St. John wrote that God is light, and we walk in that light when we live without sin: “God is light … if we say we have fellowship with Him while we walk in darkness, we lie … but if we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, His Son, cleanses us from all sin. If we say we have no sin … the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just, and will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:5–9).

But the light of Truth is not the only aspect of the Church’s mission. It also involves water. There is a “river of the water of life … flowing from the throne of God” (22:1). God says, “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water without price from the fountain of the water of life. He who conquers shall have this heritage” (21:6–7).

This is the fulfillment of the thousand cubits of water that Ezekiel saw flowing from under the Temple (47:6–12). This abundant source of water brings to mind the words of Jesus: “ ‘Whoever drinks of the water that I shall give him will never thirst.… If anyone thirst, let him come to me and drink’.… Now this He said about the Spirit, which those who believed in Him were to receive” (John 4:14; 7:37, 39). The water symbolizes the gift of the Holy Spirit to the Church and, through the Church, to the world: the sacrament of Baptism.

To sum it all up: the Bride’s mission is to proclaim the light of Truth and to make available the water—the powerful, transforming love—of the Holy Spirit. Light symbolizes the sword of the Rider, the Truth of Christ. Love without Truth leads to rottenness, just as water without light does. Conversely, Truth without Love begets harsh dryness, as does light without water. But together, water and light foster life, “the tree of life” (22:2).

When Love and Truth are offered in balance by the Church, the world will be able to taste of the tree of life. The people of God will have lived up to her mission. This is the same tree of God’s presence and fellowship that was available to Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden (Gen. 2:9). When we live as Christ wants His Bride to live, we enjoy God and His gifts. Our eternal life starts here and now. This is why we hope and wait for the second coming of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ. His coming will bring all the fruits of the tree of life to abundant fruition.

Now an angel offers us an introduction to “the Bride, the wife of the Lamb.” She was the mystery whose nature was revealed in the initial vision of the scroll. She was the Woman with offspring. She was the object of the dragon’s everlasting hatred. She was the celebrant of the Eucharist, a sacramental community. She was the New Israel being liberated through the plagues of the great battle. We have just seen her as the New Jerusalem descending from Heaven. She is the Church, “the Bride, the wife of the Lamb.”

We are truly privileged. This is the mystery that Daniel could not fully understand in his final vision. This is what Jesus said the Old Covenant prophets longed to see, but could not (Matt. 13:17). This is the spiritual Kingdom of the Messiah. This is the everlasting Kingdom that accepts Jew and Gentile on an equal footing as long as they are willing to eat together at His Supper as one People. This is the Church, redeemed with His Blood.

Even a cursory reading of this passage immediately reveals one aspect of the Church’s nature. She is somehow intimately tied to the number twelve: “[The Bride had] twelve gates, and at the gates twelve angels, and on the gates the names of the twelve tribes.… The city had twelve foundations and on them the twelve names of the twelve Apostles.… Its length [was] twelve thousand stadia … its wall [was] 144 cubits … adorned with … [twelve] jewels.… The twelve gates were twelve pearls (21:12, 13, 16–17, 19, 21). Once again, we are seeing the importance of symbolic numbers (GR2).

The most important appearance of twelve in the Old Covenant had to do with God’s chosen people, His ekklesia. There were twelve sons of Israel, and they headed the twelve tribes of the household of God. With his symbolic use of the number twelve, St. John makes it crystal clear that this new Bride has superseded the tribes of Israel. She contains the twelve tribes’ names, but is built on the foundation of the twelve Apostles. The new people of God have sprung historically from the old, but the leadership is new.

There is no going back to the Old Covenant. The New Covenant replaced the Old, as Zechariah had predicted when he broke his two staffs (Appendix Two). This is the strong covenant of Daniel, made with the Church, rather than with ethnic Israel. The Church’s message is the gospel we have just examined. Her eternal dignity stems from her choice as the Bride of the Lamb. That is the reason for her creation and existence. The Old Covenant’s time is over, due to unfaithfulness. That is a central message of the Great Battle vision we just examined.

We must not make the all-too-common mistake of spiritualizing this Bride altogether, so that we have only “an invisible Church.” She has a founder (Christ), as did the Old Covenant (Moses). The New is built upon a foundation of Her Apostles, just as the Old had its prophets. She has a priesthood, just as the Old Covenant did. She has initiation rites (Baptism), as did the Old (circumcision). She has essential ceremonies (the Eucharist), as did the Old (animal sacrifices). Perhaps most essential to remember, she has human leadership (bishops), just as it did the Old (kings and high priests). In a word, she is a visible institution, just like the Old. Because Old Covenant Israel was composed of humans, it looked imperfect from the outside; but it was still the Chosen People of God. Just so, the Church may appear fraught with human frailties on the surface. Yet the new people of God on earth is this visible institution—not merely an invisible network of spiritually attuned converts who are “born again.” The world must be able to see this institution as an organization here on earth, for “a city set on a hill cannot be hid” (Matt. 5:14).

In addition to this, what else have we learned of the nature of this Bride during The Apocalypse? After all, that is the meaning of Apocalypse in Greek: apokalupsis means “revelation.” The nature of the Church has been a mystery since time immemorial, but with the opening of the scroll, she is now revealed. What do we find?

In The Apocalypse, there are four clear characteristics of the Bride revealed for us.

• One. First, Christ’s Bride is one Church. This was the crucial message of the initial scroll vision. Jew and Gentile can join together as equals in the Bride’s marriage supper. Identification as a Christian supersedes the old ethnic categories of Jew and Gentile. Spiritually, the distinction of Jew and Gentile no longer exists! This is obvious from the way the seven churches were all addressed by St. John. They were geographically diverse, yet institutionally and spiritually one Body of Christ. They were in communion with one another and obedient to the same Christ. When their martyrs died, they all joined together under one altar, with no distinction among nationalities. We expect nothing less when we understand the mystery of this Church, where Jew and Gentile eat at one Table.

• Apostolic. Second, it is obvious that these geographically scattered churches were also faithful to the same teaching—that of St. John. There is one and only one gospel preached in The Apocalypse. The beliefs they held and the Eucharist they celebrated were those of the one Christ, as they were passed down through the Apostles. Their battle strategy of remaining faithful to the Truth of the Eucharist was the same, because they got it from the same source: the Apostles. Their destiny was that which was promised to them by Christ through St. John, because they were part of the apostolic tradition. This is all integral to the manner in which they were addressed by St. John.

• Holy. Third, this Bride is undeniably holy. We read that she exudes “the glory of God” Himself (21:11). We have seen evidence of this holiness from the very beginning of the visions. The martyrs under the altar in the fifth seal of the scroll vision were holy. The 144,000 chaste were “spotless.” One of the major admonitions of The Apocalypse is the call to holiness. We could summarize much of the book thus: “Do not take the mark of the beast by worshiping idols. That unholy compromise will exclude you from the New Jerusalem.” Speaking of the New Jerusalem, St. John states, “Nothing unclean shall enter it … but only those who are written in the Lamb’s book of life” (21:27). Make no mistake, this Bride is holy.

• Catholic. Fourth, this Bride of the Lamb is catholic, meaning “universal.” This universality exhibits itself in two forms. First, the Church is catholic because Christ is present in her. As St. Ignatius of Antioch said, “Where there is Christ Jesus, there is the Catholic Church” (EPS, VII:2). That is her gift and treasure. Second, the Church is catholic because of her mission to the whole world (CCC, pars. 830–831). The City of God contains the “144,000” ethnic Jews, but it also encompasses “every nation and tribe and tongue and people” (14:6). All are welcome, and all meet Christ when they come.

So what do we have when we add it all together? St. John’s Bride is none other than the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church that celebrates the Eucharist and waits in hope for the second advent. She is both institutionally visible and innately supernatural. Is there a name for this Church of St. John? One thing is certain: this is not a snapshot of the independent rapturist church that has sprouted up in your neighborhood within the last couple of generations. Today, the only Church that even approaches these qualifications is known worldwide as the Roman Catholic Church. She is the Bride of Christ by nature.

Now that we have analyzed the thematic summary that God gives us of the Lamb’s Bride, let us go back to the future for just a moment. With the descent of the New Jerusalem (which occurs at the final eschaton), God declares, “It is done!” (21:6). During creation, God repeatedly found that His work deserved the label, “It is good” (Gen. 1). But now that we are at the end of time, and eternity has begun, God states, “It is done.” All of time—in fact, the very purpose of time’s creation—was necessary for the epitome of God’s plan to be done. The Church has entered eternity!

Just what is God referring to as being “done”? Since we are at the summit of the entire book, I believe God is referring to the complete thrust of these visions. The mystery of the Kingdom has been revealed, the final battle between the Woman’s offspring and the dragon has been completed, the final judgment has occurred, and the New Jerusalem has come down from Heaven. The final and complete victory of Christ on earth causes the Church Triumphant to descend in glory. This is what is “done”: God’s plan for His Church, God’s plan for the world, the mystery of the gospel.

This culmination of God’s plan for His Kingdom is something for which we pray every day. When we pray the Our Father, we say,

Our Father, who art in Heaven,
Hallowed be Thy name.
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done,
On earth as it is in Heaven.…

The Apocalypse makes it clear that Christ’s Kingdom is already here on earth. If that is true, why do we still pray for its coming?

Notice what Jesus actually taught us to pray. We pray that God’s “will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven.” God’s will is already imperfectly accomplished here on earth, and we pray that it may be done perfectly here on earth, just as it is presently done perfectly in Heaven. In a similar way, God’s Kingdom has already incompletely come here on earth. We pray for it to come in its fullness “on earth as it is in Heaven.” We desire the New Jerusalem in all its glory, just as she is in Heaven already. The prayer that the Lord taught His disciples fits in perfectly with the Church’s understanding of the present, limited reality of the Kingdom of God.

Here in this vision at the end of time, we witness the answer to our prayers. “It is done!” God’s Kingdom has finally come here on earth as it already is in Heaven. The New Jerusalem has descended in all its fullness. This New Jerusalem is “the Bride, the wife of the Lamb” (21:9).

Notice how we ask God to accomplish His will here on earth via the same means He uses in Heaven. Think about this for a moment. All through this book, God’s will has been done through the obedience of a Son. The willingness of the Son to live the Truth of the gospel, to put love for God and others before His own physical welfare, enabled the strategy of the Lamb to be victorious. That is how God wants to accomplish His will on earth as well: through the obedience of His children, through our endurance and faith.

The Apocalypse concludes with a note of encouragement. We have seen that, in the end, the goodness of God overcomes the evil of Satan and his forces. Jesus concludes by telling us, “Surely I am coming soon” (22:20).

This statement primarily refers to His coming in 70 A.D. Since this vision was recorded in 68 A.D., He did come soon in His judgment of Jerusalem. He had predicted this judgment before His Passion forty years ahead of time, and He came as promised.

Yet this statement has an application for us in the twenty-first century as well (GR3). Christ is coming for you and me in our generation. It may be at the final eschaton. It may not. It may be at our own death. Surely, though, one way or another, we will experience the coming of Christ as Judge in our generation: at our own final moment. That final moment will be no later than when we die.

Christ can be trusted to keep His promises. The events of 70 A.D. stand as a promissory note that assures us that Christ is capable of coming again as promised. He will come as Judge at our death and at the final eschaton as well. Christ speaks Truth.

We must now ask ourselves two straightforward questions.

First, Where in the Bible is there a passage that teaches a two-stage coming, including both a secret rapture and then a glorious second coming? We have examined all the relevant passages, and the answer remains the same. There is no passage anywhere that teaches both a rapture and a second advent.

This seems to be the least that rapturists should provide. But the passage does not exist, and they know it, which is why they are forced to pick and shuffle passages between these two events, in an attempt to shoehorn their theology into Scripture. In so doing, they leave the true meaning of the Bible behind. For a movement that vocally espouses sola Scriptura, this is a fatal flaw.

The second question has two parts: Is there anything in these twenty-two chapters of The Apocalypse that necessitates a secret rapture before a future seven-year Great Tribulation? Is there anything in The Apocalypse that clearly predicts a future physical reign of Christ, centered in the Middle East for a thousand years?

I have spent a great deal of time with you in The Apocalypse. Some might say I have been too thorough. But I wanted to be thorough enough to answer this second question.

The answer should be obvious. No, there is not. There is nothing anywhere in The Apocalypse that demands a rapture or a seven-year Great Tribulation or an earthly Millennium in the future. There is not even a shred of justification for these teachings. Some of the misinterpretation fails to take into account the apocalyptic nature of the book. Much of it ignores precedents within the Old and New Testaments. A fair share is a result of sleeping through ancient-history class and developing Winkle Warp.

Even more disturbing, rapturist teaching turns The Apocalypse into a virtual maze of symbols and events that confuse Christians to the point of exasperation. The average Christian decides that this book is not understandable and so decides not to study it. In so doing, he misses out on a blessing: “Blessed is he who keeps the words of the prophecy of this book” (22:7). How can Christians hope to adhere to this book’s prophetic message when they quail at even opening it? In the process, they lose the opportunity to hear St. John’s vision of the Church’s message, nature, and mission.

We are now ready to answer the original question of this book. Will you, or I, be “left behind” the next time Jesus comes? The only biblical answer is an unequivocal no. Christ will come again, but all of us will experience it, believer and unbeliever alike. It will be glorious. It will be final. It will be accompanied by the final judgment. When it happens, some might want to be left behind, but all will be included: some to everlasting life and bliss, and some not.

This is a message of hope for the Church. From our perspective, the first nineteen chapters of The Apocalypse have already been historically fulfilled. This should give us solid assurance that the one chapter still future really will take place. The ninety-five-percent down payment has already been fulfilled as predicted. This should give us confidence in the five-percent promise yet to come.

“Amen. Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus!”