Introduction

ALTHOUGH MANY DETAILS in Revelation (and in this commentary) are debatable, the basic thrust is not. The true and living God summons us from our preoccupation with the world to recognize, in light of his ultimate plan for history, what really matters and what really does not. God first gave Revelation to a culture where people would hear the words of the book and imagine the stark and terrifying images; to be struck by the full force of the book, we must likewise use our imaginations to grasp the images of terror. Revelation is not meant for casual or “lite” reading; to genuinely hear it summons us to grapple with God’s judgment on a world in rebellion against him.

The Key to Interpretation?

SOME READERS BELIEVE that current events unlock the meaning of the biblical prophecies. Thus, for example, one writer opines that even Luther and Calvin “knew little about prophecy,” but that study-Bible editor C. I. Scofield rightly pointed out that Revelation was written to allow end-time interpreters to unlock its meaning.1

Yet this approach seems to me wrongheaded—I believe that it runs up against the evidence of Revelation itself. John writes to seven literal churches in literal Asia Minor, following the same sequence in which a messenger traveling Roman roads would deliver the book (see the more detailed comment in the Bridging Contexts section on 1:4–8). If we take seriously what the book itself claims, then it was a book that must have made good sense to its first hearers, who in fact were “blessed” for obeying it (1:3). That John wrote the book in Greek probably suggests that he also used figures of speech and symbols that were part of his culture more than ours. That the book was to remain “unsealed” even in his generation also indicates that it was meant to be understood from that time forward (22:10; contrast Dan. 12:9–10).

Perhaps an even more compelling reason exists to argue for focusing on ancient rather than modern background for understanding the book of Revelation. If today’s newspapers are a necessary key to interpreting the book, then no generation until our own could have understood and obeyed the book (contrary to the assumption in 1:3). They could not have read the book as Scripture profitable for teaching and correction—an approach that does not fit a high view of biblical authority (cf. 2 Tim. 3:16–17). If, however, the book was understandable for the first generation, subsequent generations can profit from the book simply by learning some history. Some popular prophecy teachers have ignored much of the history that is available, preferring to interpret the book in light of current newspaper headings. That is probably why most of them have to revise their predictions every few years as the headlines change.

Another matter of interpretation is that some want to take everything in Revelation literally. Whether one should attempt this approach depends in a sense on what one means by the term literally. When Reformers like Luther talked about interpreting the Bible “literally,” they were using a technical designation (sensus literalis) that meant taking each part of Scripture according to its “literary sense,” hence including attention to genre or literary type. But they did not mean that we should downplay figures of speech or symbols. We should take literally historical narrative in the Bible, but Revelation belongs to a different genre, a mixture of prophetic and “apocalyptic” genres, both of which are full of symbols. The Reformers did not demand that we interpret symbols as if they were not symbols, and this kind of literalism is actually at odds with what they meant.2

In fact, to take every symbol in Revelation nonsymbolically is so difficult that no one ever really attempts it. No one takes Babylon the Great as a literal prostitute or mother of prostitutes (17:5), no one takes new Jerusalem as a literal individual who is a bride, and few Protestants take the mother in chapter 12 as a literal mother (certainly not one literally clothed with the sun). “Take literally as much as possible,” comes the response. But the amount that is “possible” is usually determined by one’s presuppositions. Are literal monsters like those in chapter 9 possible? God could certainly create them, but they do bear many striking resemblances to creatures that simply represent locusts in the book of Joel. Is it not more important to be consistent with how the rest of Revelation and prophetic literature invites us to interpret them (much of which is plainly symbolic) than to try to take all its language literally? Is it not more respectful to Revelation to hear it on its own terms (symbols included) than to read into it a system of interpretation the book itself nowhere claims? That Revelation clearly includes symbols and sometimes tells us what they mean (e.g., 1:20) should lead us to suspect any interpretive method that ignores the intense symbolism of the rest of the book.

Revelation begins by telling us that God “signified” the book to John (1:1; NIV, “made it known”), a word that is related to the one John occasionally uses for “sign” or “symbol” (12:1, 3; 15:1). This suggests that the opening verses forthrightly announce a book communicated by symbols.3 Revelation’s Jewish contemporaries were accustomed to the sorts of symbols the book employs. Thus one reads in a first-century addition to the early Jewish apocalypse 1 Enoch, for example, of mysterious animals (1 Enoch 85:3) impregnated by stars (ch. 86), a vision clearly not intended literally in the context. Likewise, John’s “locusts” (Rev. 9:3–11) have much in common with Joel’s; we who rightly recognize that we should not interpret literally all the graphic language about a locust army in Joel 1–2 (1:4; 2:11, 20, 25) should interpret Revelation the same way. As many evangelical and other commentators note, the visions are primarily to confront us with God’s demands and promises, not to satisfy our curiosity about minute end-time details. Revelation shares no common ground with unbiblical prognosticators like Jeanne Dixon, Edgar Caycee, or tabloid horoscopes.

Prophetic Failures

THE MASSIVE LOSS of life among David Koresh’s followers in Waco, Texas, involved a misreading of the book of Revelation.4 Prophetic speculation is not, however, a new phenomenon. Jewish works sometimes guessed numbers and times still future—and history proved them wrong (e.g., Sib. Or. 11.265–67; Test. Moses 2:3). Early church fathers also indulged in some speculations that never materialized, such as Hippolytus’s view that the world would end in A.D. 500. Unfortunately, many modern prophecy teachers have not scored much better.5

Jerome studied in biblical lands to better understand the literary forms and contexts of the Bible, including Revelation. Many interpreters, however, have failed to learn the original setting of the book and have in effect “added to” it, despite its warning (22:18), by reading into it theological systems not justified by the text itself.6 Of course, Jehovah’s Witnesses are known for such activities. Whereas most groups that have set dates gave up after they missed once or twice, “Jehovah’s Witnesses won’t quit. Their leaders have earmarked the years 1874, 1878, 1881, 1910, 1914, 1918, 1925, 1975, and 1984 as times of eschatological significance.”7 Religion scholars have noted how various sects like Mormons, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and Christian Science adherents have used Revelation arbitrarily to support the views they already held.8 Because Jehovah’s Witnesses are the best-known purveyors of prophetic pessimism that never panned out, and also because readers of this commentary will be fairly unanimous that the Witnesses are in error, I often use them in this commentary to illustrate obvious errors in interpretive method.

But unfortunately, while Jehovah’s Witnesses are the best-known transgressors, history is littered with such failed predictions from all segments of Christendom, perhaps most obviously in the twentieth century from popular evangelicalism. In the 1920s, some dispensational prophecy teachers viewed The Protocols of the Elders of Zion—now recognized as a forgery promoted by the Nazis—as confirming their prophetic ideas. (Some later repudiated the Protocols, but others never did.)9 To their credit, this stream of prophetic interpretation proved strikingly right about Israel’s becoming a nation, a significant matter (although it is also true that they were not the only group to expect it).10 The parts of the body of Christ involved in this stream of interpretation also often demonstrated a commendable commitment to missions and world evangelism second to none. But when speculating on details, many popular prognosticators proved wrong on the identity of the Antichrist and other matters. “Nobody anticipated the demise of the Soviet empire or most aspects of the Gulf War. When history takes unexpected turns, the experts have to make adjustments, redraw their maps, and come out with new editions.”11

Lest we think that evangelicals on the whole learned humility from early mistakes, plenty of examples provide warnings to the contrary. In 1979 Colin Deal’s book showing why Christ would return by 1988 circulated information about a computer in Belgium known as “the beast,” claiming that this was the Antichrist.12 His source seemed “unaware that the computer was only a fictional creation from a novel.”13 That the devil could lure modern interpreters into such errors is not surprising; Saint Martin of Tours, who died in 397, alleged that “there is no doubt that the Antichrist has already been born.” (If Martin is right, the Antichrist displays remarkable longevity.) Others predicted his coming for the years 1000, 1184, 1186, 1229, 1345, 1385, etc.14

Every end-time view can seem reasonable if one has never sympathetically studied other views. Thus I wish that all those committed to particular end-time scenarios would survey Richard Kyle’s The Last Days Are Here Again (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1998), Dwight Wilson’s Armageddon Now! The Premillenarian Response to Russia and Israel Since 1917 (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1977), Gary DeMar’s Last Days Madness: The Folly of Trying to Predict When Christ Will Return (Brentwood, Tenn.: Wolgemuth & Hyatt, 1991), or other works like these. By reviewing the history of end-times speculation littered with failed predictions and even the varied views on major end-times issues by respected Christian leaders, they help us put our own views in perspective.

One may take as an example of diverse end-time views among Christians the Millennium, or the thousand-year reign of Christ in Revelation 20. Does Jesus return before the future Millennium (the premillennial view, the most common among North American evangelicals today) or after it (the postmillennial view), or is this period merely a symbol for the present era (the amillennial view)? Many readers may be surprised to learn that most Christian leaders in history were amillennial (like Augustine, Luther, and Calvin), many leaders in North American revivals were postmillennial (like Jonathan Edwards and Charles Finney), and most of the early church fathers were premillennial (but posttribulational).

If Calvin, Wesley, Finney, Moody, and most Christians today each have held different views, is it possible that God’s blessing may not rest solely on those who hold a particular end-time view?15 If different views strongly dominated different eras of history (e.g., amillennialism during the Reformation; postmillennialism during the U.S. Great Awakenings; premillennialism today), is it possible that our own views are more historically shaped than we care to admit? Studying various views better equips us to read Revelation more objectively on its own terms.

The Turkish Ottoman Empire once constituted a great threat to the Western world from the East, but after its fall the World War II generation naturally read the “kings from the East” (16:12) as a reference to Japan (the seven churches of Asia were clearly not thinking of Turkey). After Japan’s collapse and communism’s rise in China, the title was transferred accordingly. Most prophecies have been reapplied as newspaper headlines have changed, so that modern prophecy teaching is rarely relevant for more than a decade. As one historian mourns, “end-time thinking has been incredibly elastic”; elements of the “prophetic jigsaw puzzle” have achieved “a chameleon-like character—it has been regularly adjusted to suit the changes in current events.”16 As we will see, the “revelation of Jesus Christ” to John (1:1) uses not only the Greek language but images and symbols that made sense in his generation, and modern prophecy teachers have often tried to jump to what it “means” without first understanding what it “meant.”

In one sense, however, Revelation and other end-time texts in the Bible lend themselves to more moderate comparisons with current events. Who would doubt that the return of Israel to the land (accepted by many teachers of different end-time persuasions through history) has some significance in God’s plan, even if we debate about which texts might imply this? The recognition of antichrists and other signs that make us yearn more fervently for Christ’s coming is natural when we recognize that each generation could be the last one. (After all, if Jesus said no one knows the hour of his return, that includes the devil, who thus must have antichrists in waiting for each generation.) But we need the humility to leave “could be the last generation” as is and not upgrade “could” prematurely to “is.”

Although John probably did not expect a delay of the Lord’s return for the many generations between his and our own, he might have had some sympathy with those who wish to reapply the images of Revelation to their own generation, just as they made sense to his generation.17 Any generation is potentially the final one, and John was probably familiar with pesher interpreters among his contemporaries who reapplied biblical prophecies to their own time.18 The danger in pursuing this approach is that too many of us assume, like the pesher interpreters of Qumran, that we must be the final generation—usually based on a misinterpretation of Mark 13:28—and that these prophecies apply literally and only to our own generation.19 This assumption has so far been proved wrong among every generation that has held it, though it is ultimately liable to be vindicated in some generation—by the sheer fact that someday the Lord will return!

Approaches

HISTORY HAS PRODUCED various approaches to the book of Revelation, many of which have some elements that commend them, provided we do not press too far their denials of elements in other positions.

The Idealist Approach

THE IDEALIST APPROACH finds timeless principles in Revelation. Everyone who preaches from the book will affirm this general conviction, but in the view’s most extreme form it simultaneously denies any specific historical or future meaning for the book. As Tenney observes, to its principles “almost any interpreter of Revelation could give assent regardless of the school to which he belongs. The idealist view does contain much that is true. Its flaw is not so much in what it affirms as in what it denies.”20 Was Revelation teaching merely timeless general principles, with no concern for pressing issues at hand in the seven churches?

The Historicist Approach

SOME HAVE ARGUED, from at least the time of the fourteenth-century writer Nicolas of Lyra, that Revelation provides a detailed map of history from its own day until Jesus’ future return. This historicist view of Revelation as church history dominated views about the book through the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. It is rarely advanced today; the links between Revelation’s contents and history’s events always have proved forced.

The Preterist Approach

PRETERISTS READ THE book of Revelation the way they believe John’s original audience in the seven churches would have. In other words, they seek to apply to Revelation the same interpretive method we apply to every other book of the Bible, namely, that we should read it in its historical context. Because the most radical preterists insist, however, that the events of Revelation were entirely fulfilled in the first century, they read it in a manner that John’s original audience probably would not have. Whatever else may already have been fulfilled (and Revelation, like most apocalypses, includes at least some rehearsal of the past; see 12:1–5), most early Christians would not have recognized in any first-century events the fulfillment of the great white throne judgment (20:11–15) or the arrival of the holy city (21:1–22:5). Thus more moderate preterists do not insist that every event of Revelation was fulfilled in the first century. Even most commentators today who are not completely preterist accept the preterist contention that the Revelation must have made sense to its first hearers (22:10).

The Futurist Approach

FUTURISTS ARE CERTAINLY right to claim that some events in the book await fulfillment, such as God’s unchallenged eternal city supplanting the kingdoms of this world (21:1–22:5). But the futurist position, like the other ones, can be pressed too far; in its radical form, it “implies that the book had nothing to say to the many generations between John of Patmos and the interpreter.”21 Further, some pivotal clues in the book (see comment on 12:5–6) may suggest that the time frame much of the book reports is not merely a future tribulation, but also a present one.

Although the dominant popular approach today, futurism was not popular in many periods in church history. A number of evangelical scholars hold this view, usually either in the traditional dispensational form or more commonly the historical premillennial view. The former requires a seven-year tribulation, or sometimes half that period; the latter typically does not differentiate the future tribulation from the past or present as sharply, though many maintain a future tribulation followed by Christ’s return.

An Eclectic Approach

OTHERS PREFER SOME mixture of historical or preterist approaches with a futurist approach. Some interpreters from at least the time of the late sixteenth-century Spanish Jesuit Ribeira have suggested that Revelation portrays events about to occur in John’s day as well as immediately preceding Jesus’ return, with not much in between. Alcasar, another Spanish Jesuit (d. 1614), suggested that Revelation 4–19 were fulfilled in the conflicts of John’s era but chapters 20–22 represent the church’s triumph after Constantine.22

But other eclectic (mixed) approaches also exist. Most commentators who seek to apply Revelation will opt for some eclectic approach, usually combining some futurist, preterist, and idealist elements. Some elements in the book are clearly future (the second coming and resurrection of the saints, if nothing else!); some are past; some probably typify characteristic judgments in the present age.23 On most of these differences of opinion there is room for charitable differences of opinion. But on any interpretation, all elements warn us to contemplate God’s ways and to live accordingly.24

Once we understand what God was saying to the churches of Asia through John, we can begin to draw analogies for how the same message is relevant to our churches today. Thinking concretely how to bridge the gap between Scripture’s words in the past and our culture today is important; the very reasons biblical writers said what they did in one setting caused biblical writers to say different things for different settings, and we need to hear them clearly before we reapply their words to our setting. Sometimes we and our historical predecessors have simply passed on traditions, adding a few new ones along the way for future generations. Many leaders through church history, however, like the Reformers or many missionaries or leaders in great revivals, have sought to recontextualize the biblical message for their generation and culture, just as the biblical writers contextualized their revelations for their generations and cultures. We must do the same, but before we can do so, we must make sure we understand the Bible properly.

Symbolism

AS NOTED ABOVE, on any view, Revelation employs much symbolism. Although one should read most narratives in the Bible literally, prophetic and apocalyptic texts (see next sec. on Genre) are different, as anyone who has spent much time with them will recognize. They contain considerable symbolism, and often were fulfilled in unexpected ways. Various texts both in the Old Testament (e.g., Judg. 5:4; Ps. 18:4–19) and among John’s contemporaries (e.g., Sib. Oracles 3.286–92; 4.57–60) could employ the language of cosmic catastrophe to describe events taking place in their own or recent times. Many such texts review history (such as 1 Enoch’s “dream-visions”), and some such texts even blend clearly past events with images of the end time (Sib. Oracles 5.336).

Revelation’s symbols may appear obscure to us, but they were mostly fathomable (or at least evocative) to the believers in the seven churches, at least after some reflection. One commentator notes that “John used symbols in order to communicate that which cannot be expressed in any other way, not to conceal something that could be said more straightforwardly.”25

The symbolic use of numbers characterizes Revelation, as it does many other apocalypses.26 This is not surprising, given how common symbolic use of numbers was throughout the ancient Mediterranean world, especially through the influence of a Greek philosophical sect called the Pythagoreans.27 Richard Bauckham provides a thorough list of detailed numerical patterns in Revelation, especially sevens, such as the “Lamb” being mentioned twenty-eight times (exactly seven of which are alongside God).28 Some designations of time, such as “one hour” in 17:12, are plainly not literal; an interpreter is therefore not obligated to take other time designations literally without compelling reason. Among John’s contemporaries, numbers like seven and twelve often functioned symbolically.29 In Jewish texts, twelve most often stood for the tribes of Israel, but also functioned in various other ways.30 In Revelation, where twelve and multiples of twelve appear around sixty times, the number most often points to Israel.31

Genre

ALTHOUGH SCHOLARS DEBATE the specific type of literature into which Revelation falls, most agree that it fits at least in part what modern scholars call “apocalypses.”32 Some have used the term apocalypse to refer loosely to any Jewish end-time thought, others more specifically for visionary literature, often including heavenly ascents and revelations. The apocalyptic genre flourished in early Judaism, and most scholars include Revelation in this category.33 In this sort of text in the most specific sense, the seer has visions and revelations—“apocalypse” literally means “revelation”—often including cosmological speculation (e.g., 1 Enoch 72–82). Revelation includes little cosmological speculation and lacks journeys (1 Enoch 17–18); unlike some of its modern interpreters, Revelation does not sidetrack from its agenda to pursue matters of curiosity.

But more commonly modern scholars apply the term apocalyptic to most early Jewish texts that focus on revelations of some sort relevant to the end time.34 Like most apocalypses, John follows the Semitic language and visionary figures of speech found in biblical prophetic books (e.g., “I looked, and there before me was … ,” Rev. 4:1; 6:2, 5, 8); this accounts for many of the language differences between Revelation and other New Testament books.

Just as Jewish teachers used riddles, so Jewish prophetic writers used enigmatic predictions or riddles, often to provoke thought (e.g., Sib. Oracles 5.14–42). Some have even regarded Revelation as using code-language to avoid persecution; Roman readers would, however, immediately recognize the anti-Roman portrait of the ruling city on seven mountains (17:9).35 Revelation’s riddles are to provoke thought, not to conceal most of its meaning.

Noting differences between Revelation and many apocalypses mentioned above, as well as how much of Revelation is rooted in biblical prophecy, some scholars have argued that Revelation is prophecy rather than apocalypse.36 Among apocalypses, John’s Revelation is certainly closer to the biblical prophets than his contemporaries.37 A forced choice between “apocalyptic” and “prophetic” genres, however, is pointless. To be sure, nearly everything in Revelation can be paralleled in the Old Testament prophets, but the specific features that predominate are also those most common among Revelation’s early Jewish contemporaries. A line of demarcation is arbitrary; preexilic biblical prophets like Isaiah and Joel, and especially exilic and postexilic prophets like Ezekiel, Daniel, and Zechariah, use the sorts of images from which later apocalyptic texts draw. John also has every reason to articulate his revelation in terms intelligible to his contemporaries, as God had been doing throughout history!

Later apocalypses could also consider themselves “prophecy” (e.g., 4 Ezra 12:42), so it is not surprising that Revelation does the same (1:3; 22:7, 10, 18–19).38 Whether apocalyptic writers used visions merely as literary devices or also believed they had experienced them is debated.39 It seems likely, however, that at least John reports authentic visions that determined the genre in which he would write, even if John then exercises the freedom to report them in a dramatic literary manner.40

Western Asia Minor (where the seven churches were located) boasted various oracular centers, so we know that even new Gentile converts in the seven churches were familiar with the idea of prophecy.41 Further, these oracles could prove political in nature, and in an earlier period had sometimes extended to denunciations of Rome.42 But the clear and primary background against which to read the book’s prophecies, a background shared with other Jewish apocalyptic works, is the Old Testament.

Revelation, like the Fourth Gospel, is full of implicit allusions to the Old Testament; indeed, it contains more biblical allusions than any other early Christian work, which some estimate appear in nearly 70 percent of Revelation’s verses. But unlike John’s Gospel it includes no extended quotations of the Old Testament. Many of the allusions recall also the context of their biblical source; many, however, blend various biblical allusions, and Revelation regularly recycles its images to apply them in a fresh way. (Everyone agrees, for example, that Revelation’s plagues of hail mixed with fire, water turned to blood, and so forth recall the plagues of Moses’ day, but also that Revelation is not simply referring to past biblical events.) Other Jewish texts could draw end-time imagery from biblical prophets (Sib. Oracles 3.788–95); some other works, like Qumran’s Manual of Discipline, might include few biblical quotations (e.g., 5.15; 8.15) but many allusions. Like other early Jewish interpreters, Revelation also blended end-time images in eclectic ways and recycled the images of earlier prophecies—even fulfilled ones—in new ways.43

Structure

USING AN EARLY scissors-and-paste approach to criticism, some commentators like R. H. Charles rearranged Revelation into an order more to their liking, considering the work’s original editor incompetent.44 The consensus today, however, is that Revelation represents a unified work.45 It is, in fact, an exquisite product of literary design, despite the basic apocalyptic syntax of much of its language.46

At points the specific structure is debated, but what is clear is the general outline.47 Between the letters to the seven churches and the promised future lie, in addition to scenes of heavenly worship and periodic interludes, three series of seven judgments, each ending (usually in the sixth element) with an end-of-the-age cataclysm then resolved in the seventh element (6:12–17; 8:1; 9:13–21; 11:15–19; 16:12–21). Such cataclysmic, cosmic imagery occasionally refers to events within history, but in most cases appears in early Jewish literature for the end of the age; it is therefore most natural to take these images in the same way in Revelation.

Some writers have tried to make Revelation a continuous chronological account from beginning to ending, but this view is not widely held today. The dominant view, proposed by Victorinus in the late third century, is that the various series of judgments parallel one another rather than following successively.48 Since each of these series of judgments seem to conclude with the end of the age (as noted above), this line of interpretation is almost certainly correct. The sort of events closing the seals, trumpets, and bowls cannot repeat unless the world as we know it can come to an end several times (these three references plus 19:11–21)!

But what is the primary period depicted in Revelation? It seems to end with the end of the age, but what is less clear is when it begins. The seals seem to fit the present age (see comment on 6:1–8), but the clearest clue comes in 12:5–6: The period of tribulation seems to begin with Jesus’ exaltation nearly two millennia ago. If this is in fact the point in that passage, then Revelation radically reapplies Daniel’s picture of end-time tribulation in a different way. (This is not to claim that he disagrees with Daniel’s meaning, only to argue that he recycles the same image to make an additional point.) Other clues in that passage and Revelation’s regular reapplication of earlier symbols may support this view, held by many scholars.

The 1260 days may refer to the period between the first and second comings of Jesus, characterizing the entire church age as a period of tribulation in some sense. This would not rule out a final intensification of suffering toward the end of this period, which would be consonant with the period’s eschatological character; but that is probably not the primary point in Revelation. In this case, Revelation would not directly even address the sort of future “tribulation” often discussed in modern “prophecy teaching.” This is not to comment on whether other biblical passages might not address it, but to suggest that Revelation is more practically focused on the state of believers in this age, and that it is therefore a good resource for encouraging believers in this age; Christians must always be prepared to suffer for Christ.

That Revelation’s “tribulation” is longer than a literal 1260 days seems the point of the text but is not, however, beyond debate. One could argue for a gap between Christ’s exaltation and the beginning of the days—although no such gap is stated and resymbolization, including of numbers, is pervasively characteristic of the book. Yet on the level of application, the point would still be the same even if the period of time were a literal 1260 days: We may learn from the model of future “tribulation saints” just as we may learn from reading the Old Testament or the Gospels. Thus interpreters from various theological backgrounds can often preach and apply the text in similar ways.

Date and Setting

SINCE WE AFFIRM that Revelation is inspired by God, some readers may wonder what difference its date and setting make. Is its message not timeless? But the message of Romans and Philippians and 1 Peter is also timeless, yet we recognize that God inspired apostles to write these letters to real people who are explicitly identified as their audiences. Just like those letters, Revelation informs us of its intended audience (1:4, 11). Knowing the background that the Bible’s first readers could take for granted helps us understand the issues the writer was inspired to address first and foremost. We can apply the Bible’s principles much more concretely if we understand the concrete needs they originally addressed.

Early church fathers suggested that Revelation stems from the time of the evil emperor Domitian at the end of the first century, and that John returned from Patmos only after Domitian’s death (e.g., Irenaeus, Her. 5.30.3; Eusebius, H.E. 3.18.1–3; 3.20.9; 3.23.1).49 Some have proposed a date under an earlier evil emperor named Nero, which does fit what we know of persecution in Rome (Tacitus, Ann. 15.44; 2 Tim. 4:16–18).50 Some of the less explicit external evidence could also be read this way, though not the more explicit testimony of Irenaeus.51 But Nero’s persecution seems largely restricted to Rome (though authors in Rome could expect persecution to spread further, 1 Peter 1:1; 4:12; 5:9, 13), and Jesus’ prophecy to Ephesus in 2:1–7, which suggests that the church guarded itself well against error, does not fit Nero’s day (Acts 20:29–30; 1 Tim. 1:3–7; 2 Tim. 2:17–18).

Moreover, Revelation seems to portray a return of the wicked ruler Nero (Rev. 17:11)—not a likely subject of attention before Nero’s demise in A.D. 68. By contrast, Domitian so persecuted the church that their tradition explicitly viewed him as Nero’s successor (Eusebius, H.E. 3.17, 20). Others prefer for a date the period of turmoil immediately following Nero’s death or the time of Vespasian, but explicit evidence is scanty.52 The earlier dates allow some interpreters to understand Christ’s coming in Revelation as his impending destruction of Jerusalem, but this is hardly the most natural sense of images such as the removal of mountains and islands (6:14; 16:20) or the resurrection of the righteous dead (20:4–5).53 The church tradition that dates Revelation to the time of Domitian in the late first century is thus likely; while less than certain, it is better supported than the alternatives. Domitian’s claims to deity and the centrality of his cult in Asia fit especially the later part of his reign, around the mid-90s.54

One issue that would have been central in the latter part of Domitian’s reign was worship of the emperor. Greeks had long drawn the lines between humans and deities rather thinly.55 Thus it is not surprising that when Alexander the Great conquered most of the Middle East, he readily adopted the common idea that rulers were gods and accepted the worship of those subjects inclined to grant it.56 When Rome gained control of the eastern Mediterranean world, they allowed the eastern part of the empire, including the prosperous cities of Asia Minor, to show loyalty to the Roman state by worshiping the emperor.57 Ancient sanctuaries used for the worship of other deities often honored the emperor as well.58

Most Romans themselves were far more restrained; they recognized that the emperor was a mortal and could be made a god only after death (an act that required senate approval).59 To claim deity while still alive in Rome itself was considered an act of hubris, of supreme arrogance, and usually resulted in the cursing of the emperor’s name after death. Gaius Caligula, Nero, and Domitian were the only emperors in the first century to demand worship while alive; consequently, they were the only emperors who reigned more than a few months to whom the state denied the privilege of being called a god after death.60

In the eastern Mediterranean, however, most peoples showed their loyalty to Rome by worshiping not only the goddess Roma (Rome) but also the emperor. Different Asian cities had competed for the honor of hosting emperor temples, with Ephesus and then Smyrna as the principal sites of such cults. All seven cities of Asia Minor whose churches are directly addressed in Revelation were exposed to the imperial cult.61 Increasingly as Domitian’s reign went on, people were calling Domitian “master” and “god” (Dio Cassius, 67.13.4).62 Domitian also became a tyrant who repressed a number of minority groups he saw as potentially threatening, including Roman Jews, philosophers, and astrologers.63

Everyone in Asia understood that Jews were exempt from explicitly worshiping the emperor because they worshiped only one God.64 This unofficial exemption probably protected some Jewish Christians from being invited to participate in popular pagan religion. In Roman Asia, however, many Jews had become upwardly mobile and more accepted into mainstream society than elsewhere; they were welcomed more than in Alexandria and even Rome. They knew that they had much to lose from prophetic movements claiming to follow another king than Caesar; like Jews throughout the empire, they had to pay a special tax because of the revolt of Judean Jews in A.D. 66.65

Furthermore, after the destruction of Jerusalem in A.D. 70, many Palestinian Jews who mistrusted Jewish Christianity undoubtedly settled in Asia Minor, exacerbating tensions that already existed there (Acts 19:9, 33–34; 21:27–29).66 Probably for these and other reasons, Jewish Christians became unwelcome in some prominent synagogue communities of Asia Minor at the end of the first century (2:9; 3:9).67 Christians claimed to be religiously Jewish, representing the true faith of ancient Israel; thus they should profit from the toleration Rome accorded local Jewish communities. Once Christians proved unable to persuade the authorities that they were Jewish, however—once the synagogues expelled them—they risked suppression and even death at the hands of the authorities.68

In the early second century, when Trajan was emperor, a relatively new governor of Bithynia in Asia found pagan temples being forsaken because of massive conversions to faith in Christ. This governor tortured Christians for information and offered to release them if they would simply worship Caesar’s image; but finding them too “arrogant” to worship Caesar, he ordered them executed (Pliny, Ep. 10.96). From his correspondence with Trajan we gather that the practice of arresting Christians outside Rome did not start with Trajan; more than likely it started some time earlier, probably during the reign of Domitian.69 In the early second century, the state demanded that Christians call Caesar “Lord” and offer sacrifice if they wished to be released (Mart. Poly. 8). Thus the Christians faced a crisis that recalled crises faced by Jews in the times of Daniel and Antiochus IV Epiphanes: One dare not render to Caesar what was God’s alone.70

Traditionally scholars have viewed Revelation as addressing oppressed Christians facing persecution from the mighty Roman state. Today many emphasize instead that the book addressed “complacent, spiritually anemic Christians.”71 In fact, when one examines the letters to the seven churches one finds both situations coexisting in different places. Revelation speaks to churches both alive and dead, but more of the churches are in danger of compromising with the world than of dying from it. This makes the book relevant to North American Christianity today.

Message of Revelation

APPLICATION, BY ITS very nature, is most often contextual—adapted for a specific culture, church (in preaching), or individual (often in personal devotions). For that reason, most applications in this commentary are samples of the sorts of applications we can draw. While I have tried to draw examples from a range of cultures that would remain relevant for the majority of the commentary’s likely audience, my own background in some parts of North American evangelicalism, African-American churches, messianic Jewish circles, and elsewhere does not cover every conceivable base for application. I do trust, however, that readers will find useful models for drawing analogies between issues the biblical text addresses and today’s issues.

At the same time, however, Revelation addresses many issues that have not changed because human nature and God’s character have remained constant. It is these themes on which we focus in this section. Happily, these themes arise repeatedly throughout Revelation. Because the book was delivered as an entire book and, apart from the letters to the seven churches in some sense, not intended to be read or preached piecemeal, it is important that every time we read, teach, or preach any passage in Revelation, we do so in light of the themes of the entire book the passage reflects.

I have done my best to honor the text and develop my views on the basis of the text rather than the reverse; my current views differ considerably from what I was originally taught. At the same time, I want to emphasize that when I cite other scholarly positions, it is out of respect and a desire to dialogue with them. I doubt, for example, that most readers would classify me as a dispensationalist (though one of my progressive dispensationalist friends has drawn dispensational boundaries so widely that he tells me I might qualify as an honorary dispensationalist!). But it would be unfair to any evangelical position to simply ignore their views, so I cite them both when I disagree and when I can learn from them. But despite different views among various scholars on fine points of end-times events, all readers can agree on the most important issues in Revelation. Scholars of various persuasions will also share many of my exegetical convictions on various passages.

When we think of Revelation today, many of us think of debates on fine points of end-times events, but these details are hardly the primary message of Revelation. In fact, on some matters of detail, it is possible that most of us will be surprised. After showing how God regularly surprised his people by the way he fulfilled both Old and New Testament prophecies, one writer inquires, “Is it not possible that God could fulfil some of his predictions in ways that humans have not yet conceived?”72

A few of John’s revelations were not even meant to be understood in our time (10:4), though most of them were so intended on the points that matter most (22:10). Neither in the New Testament nor among early Christian confessions of faith do end-time details appear as part of a confession of faith; detailed end-time views do not constitute a test of Christian orthodoxy. The only “consensus among conservative Christians [is] that the personal, literal and visible second coming of Jesus belongs in the essential core of doctrine, but beyond that the consensus breaks down.”73

But as Billy Graham points out, rather than getting lost in the smaller brushstrokes, debating all the details, we need to step back and catch the majesty of the book’s “grand design.”74 We can acknowledge ambiguities and uncertainties and even differ from other Christians on some larger end-time scenarios, such as the nature of the Millennium; but the most important applications to our lives today are usually clear. In discussing New Testament teaching about Jesus’ return, can we miss the summons to holiness in readiness for Christ’s return, one of the most pervasive Second-Coming themes in the New Testament (Mark 13:33–37; 1 Thess. 3:13; 5:6–7, 23; Titus 2:12–13; 1 Peter 1:7; 2 Peter 3:14; 1 John 2:28–3:3)?

What then is Revelation’s message? We mention several points below, though we develop most of them later in the commentary on specific passages.

Revelation also proclaims Christ’s Lordship more explicitly and frequently than some parts of the New Testament; under normal circumstances we confront opposition not by softening our witness for Christ but by testifying more boldly. Certainly Revelation, while distinguishing the Father from the Lamb, attributes to Jesus full deity—language common shortly after its writing (Pliny, Ep. 10.96; Ignatius, Rom. 3; Justin, First Apol. 67; Second Apol. 13). Revelation repeatedly invokes Old Testament passages about God and applies them to Jesus (Dan. 7:9 in 1:14; Isa. 2:19 and Hos. 10:8 in 6:15–17; Isa. 49:10 in 7:17; Deut. 10:17 in 17:14 and 19:16; Isa. 63:2 in 19:13; Isa. 60:19–20 in 21:23).

Other titles or expressions applied to Jesus were applied to deity in surrounding cultures (e.g., 2:18), and titles of God in Judaism, such as “Living One,” apply to Jesus (1:18). Jesus performs divine functions; whereas in the Old Testament “This is what the LORD says” often introduces prophecies, in Revelation it is Jesus who inspires prophecy by the Spirit (2:1, 8, 12, 18; 3:1, 7, 14). John’s Jewish contemporaries attributed the keys of the realm of the dead to God alone (Wisd. Sol. 16:13); Revelation attributes them to Jesus (Rev. 1:18). In contrast to contemporary Jewish expectations, Jesus receives doxologies (1:5–6) and full worship (5:8–14) and is invoked in blessings on readers (1:4–5).

Revelation’s application of divine titles to Jesus may be most explicit when it calls Jesus “the First and the Last” (1:17; 2:8; 22:12–13), a title applicable only to God according to Isaiah (Isa. 41:4; 44:6; 48:12), and exactly equivalent in sense to “the Alpha and the Omega,” which is applied to the Father in Revelation (1:8; 21:5–7; Jesus in 22:13). For his audience, John’s Christology was also eminently practical: Revelation was written to assure pressed believers that “their victory was not in doubt; Jesus, not Caesar, had been invested by the Almighty with the sovereignty of the world.”76

But Revelation’s most distinctive contribution to the New Testament is one that many of us find uncomfortable, especially when we find full satisfaction in this world. Revelation provides a better hope for a church enamored with this age or despairing of the next: “It is only in that interval of the already and the not yet that hope is situated, in what can be experienced as the silence of God, or dryness, when it seems difficult to continue to believe.”77 Revelation reminds us that we do not belong to this world and must not be seduced by what it values. John’s Revelation calls for persecuted churches to remain vigilant (2:10; 3:11) and other churches to resist compromise with the spirit of their age (2:16, 25; 3:3, 18–20).78