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Reflections on Revelation

Do you get that tingling sensation in your stomach as the first words of a new book pass before your eyes? Are you immediately consumed by the story, carried away by the artistry of a master author? John’s Revelation has stirred this in me more than once over the years. John teaches us so much about the real Jesus–Jesus ascended to heaven, Jesus on the throne, Jesus the conquering King. As you read the Apocalypse, you can see Jesus, mounted on a white horse charging into Armageddon bent on vanquishing the enemy of our souls. This is the true Jesus, the Jesus we need in these tumultuous days.

With this post I’ve begun writing down reflections on this important book—not to present a detailed eschatology (study of last things), but to pull back the veil and peek into the shadows of some very challenging prophecy. I do not intend to spell out a system explaining 70 weeks or 7 years or the kind of stuff made into movies. Rather I want to draw out the life found in this cryptic book, like drawing water from a well. Revelation is about more than signs and symbols. It is a letter that can empower us to conquer today. Inasmuch as Revelation is the gospel itself, hidden from enemies, revealed to believers, it is powerful for salvation. As Paul wrote to those at Rome: “For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes . . .” (Romans 1:16, ESV) John paints on the canvas of our minds images of creatures and thrones and seals and terror and comfort and victory. There is holy war. There is tension and wonder and finally, resolution to the rebellion and sin that led mankind down the path of destruction.

It is my pleasure to share these reflections with you and my prayer that you find something in them to build you up in your most holy faith. Come journey with me through the pages of Revelation as we walk the path together that leads to the throne of grace, equipped and steadfast, following the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.

Stay tuned for upcoming posts, the first of which is entitled Jesus Among the Lampstands . . .

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The Power of Doxology

When I was new to the Lord I learned an oft sung chorus simply called The Doxology. “Praise God from whom all blessings flow/Praise Him, All creatures here below/Praise him above ye heavenly host/Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.” It was sung after communion or at the end of the church service, in keeping with the Biblical tradition of book-ending a section of text with a “word of glory”, an ascription of value and worth to God. While this chorus is actually a Catholic prayer, doxologies are found throughout the Old and New Testaments.

Lately I’ve been thinking about doxology and this is what I’ve concluded: doxology has a powerful place in daily life. Consider the doxology included in the introduction to Revelation. “To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood and made us a kingdom, priests to his God and Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.”(Revelation 1:5-6, ESV) This one doxology, if internalized, has the power to revolutionize your life. In fact, this would be a great passage to meditate on at the beginning of each day this week.

This doxology is ascribed to Jesus and begins: “To him who loves us . . .” There are days when it can be a stretch to remember that He loves me. Perhaps I’ve not bothered to confess my sin and I’m feeling estranged from Him. Maybe the woes of walking in this world become heavy and I’ve neglected to release them to Him. Or I read the words and they merely bounce around my mind, never taking root in my heart. But not only did Jesus tell us that he loved us, he showed us. He said to his disciples in the closing hours of his ministry in his body: “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13, ESV) That is precisely what He did for us. Allow this truth to sink down through the layers of your mind into the depths of your heart. Allow this truth to be a cornerstone to the foundation of your faith.

The doxology continues: ” . . and has freed us from our sins by his blood . . .” His love moved him from the Garden to Golgotha. Bloodied and tortured, he was nailed to a Roman cross in order to provide our reconciliation to the Father in Heaven who, by the way, loves us, too. When we were helpless slaves to our rebellion and rejection of God, he surrendered to the cross to free us to walk from death to life.

Having washed us by his blood, reconciling us to the Father, he ” . . . made us a kingdom . . . “ Not only did we become subjects to the King of Kings, he gave us a place of honor, allowing us to become kings with him, to share in his rule of the nations of the earth in the age to come.

He also gave us the privilege of becoming ” . . . priests to his God and Father “, that is to become mediators between the lost ones and the Father. Having been reconciled to the Father, we represent Christ to the world, appealing to its children to be reconciled to God. We not only intercede for the lost, we do all in our power to bring them to the Heavenly Father, that they too may be freed from their sins and be made new creations.
At this point the John puts hands and feet on the high praise given the King: ” . . . to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.” May this never be merely a statement we make by rote before moving on with our day. First, says John, honor God with your life–forever. Second, surrender rule of your affections, attitudes, and actions to God the Father–also forever. That is, give him dominion of your being.

Meditating on these profound truths allows us the opportunity to begin our day basking in the love and gifts of God. As the truths take hold of our hearts, we respond by yielding the right to rule ourselves to God the Father, inviting him to show his glory, character, and majesty through us to draw a rebellious world to himself.

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Dancing in a Hurricane

The Christian life is filled with its share of heart-ache. It should be so. God chose to take up a dwelling place in us when he gave us his Spirit and because of that, we experience the world differently than we once did. That which once pleased us now grieves us. He even told us that in this life we’d find plenty of trouble, though knowing that we are going to experience suffering or pain or trouble is little comfort. Especially when the pressure is on.

Believers are often pressured to paint a smile on a grieving heart. There is a price for being plain spoken about high cost of discipleship. Though it is becoming more mainstream to be candid about our experiences, we too often are expected to tell touching stories where everything turns out like the ending of a Hallmark Christmas movie.

I remember a scene from Spectre (a recent James Bond movie) that may speak more to my experience. Mr. White (one of the bad guys)  taunts Bond, “You’re a kite dancing in a hurricane, Mr. Bond.” He wanted to steal Bond’s hope of finishing his mission, convincing him to stop then and there. What a compelling description of how Satan frames our situation and attacks. Like Mr. White, he intensely wants us to succumb to fear of the tumult of the hurricane.

Seeking some answer to this taunt, I ask:  “Lord, why aren’t we just blown away in the gale?” or “Why are we not consumed by the enemy?” 

His answer reflects his compassion. I realize that when I cannot see I must trust. When I cannot hear I must open the pages of the Scripture to see what I cannot hear.

Here is, in part, his response to my asking:

“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” —Lamentations 3:22.

“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will dwell in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the Lord, ‘My refuge and my fortress, my God in whom I trust.’”—Psalm 91:1

“We have this [hope] as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf . . .” —Hebrews 6:19-20

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though the mountains tremble at its swelling.” Psalm 46:1-2

The language in these verses is violent, noisy, threatening. It shows us our need for protection and deliverance. But it also depicts the compassionate love of God and Father, Warrior and King, Refuge and Fortress.

Take His words to heart, warrior. “Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea . . .”