The second coming, Revelation style.

The problem with using Revelation to talk about Jesus’s second coming is it’s all apocalypses: It’s nothing but freaky images which represent events from John’s future (and, for the most part, our past). Likewise it represents a lot of things from the point of view of heaven—and we have no frame of reference whatsoever so we can say, “Oh, he’s talking about this angel,” or “He’s means this event.” We don’t know the history of heaven: God hasn’t shared it. All we have is an apocalyptic images of what might have happened in heaven—and our fertile imaginations, which have invented all sorts of freaky interpretations of Revelation.

So whenever we look at Revelation, we have to bear this fact in mind: We don’t know what it means. We will know, after Jesus returns, if he sees fit to explain any of it—and if we even care, because we’ll be way too jazzed about Jesus’s return. Meanwhile, we don’t know. Anyone who claims to know for certain, is either a fool or a fraud.

That said, here’s the part of Revelation which deals with Jesus’s second coming.

I saw the heavens had been opened. Look: A white horse.

A person sitting on it, called faithful and true, who judges fairly—and makes war.

His eyes: Like fiery flames.

On his head: Many wreaths,

and a name inscribed which nobody understands but him.

Wearing a blood-dipped robe, his name is called God’s Word.

The invading armies of heaven are following him on white horses.

They’d been dressed in clean white linen.

From his mouth comes a short sharp sword, because he struck the gentiles with it.

He’ll shepherd them with an iron rod.

He presses the winepress of Almighty God’s angry fury.

His robe, at his thigh, has this name inscribed: King of kings and master of masters.

I saw one angel, which was standing on the sun

and crying in a loud voice, telling all the vultures flying in the midheaven,

“Come gather for God’s great dinner!

You can eat the flesh of kings, commanders, mighty men,

horses, their riders, and all sorts—free or slave, small or great.”

I saw the Beast, the world’s kings, and their armies,

gathered to make war against the one who sits on the horse, and his army.

The Beast was captured.

With it, the fake prophet who made the signs for it—

by which it led astray those who carried the Beast’s stamp, and worshiped its ikon.

The two were thrown, alive, into the fiery, sulfur-burning pool.

The rest were killed with the short sword

which comes from the mouth of the one who sits on the horse.

All the birds were stuffed on their flesh.

 

I saw an angel coming down from heaven,

which had Abyss’s key and a heavy chain in its hand.

It grabbed the dragon and bound it a millennium—

the old serpent, which is the devil, Satan.

It threw it into the Abyss, and shut and sealed it over:

It may no longer deceive the nations till the millennium is complete.

After that, it has to be released a short time.

 

I saw thrones. People sat on them. Judgment was given them.

They’re the souls of those beheaded for testifying of Jesus, for God’s word.

Whoever hadn’t worshiped the Beast nor its ikon,

nor took its forehead- nor hand-stamp: They live!

They reign with Christ a millennium.

The rest of the dead won’t live till the millennium is complete.

This is the first Resurrection.

Those who take part of the first Resurrection are awesome and holy.

The second death has no power over them.

Instead they’ll be God’s and Christ’s priests, and reign with him a millennium.

—John,

The order of events.

In 1 Thessalonians 4 (which I discussed in my article on the rapture), we see how the Christians are resurrected and raptured immediately. In Revelation, it’s not so altogether. First the Beast and devil get dispatched. Then only the martyrs appear to get raised. The other Christians seem to come later.

Is this a discrepancy? Only if we take Revelation literally, and we’re supposed to know better than to do that.

Notice John started a lot of these paragraphs with, “I saw…” and then he wrote what he saw. Jesus was feeding him revelation, one vision at a time.

John wasn’t shown the End in chronological order. He was shown only certain things, presented in the form of apocalyptic images, and only what Jesus wanted to emphasize. If Jesus wanted to take a particular event, take it apart, and show John four different visions of the same event—sorta like different camera angles—he could. And some of Revelation’s visions sorta sound like he did.

So when Jesus returns, John was shown the return from the point of view of heaven. Then the point of view of the sun angel. Then the point of view of the Beast. And the Dragon. And the resurrected martyrs. Could all these events happen simultaneously? Sure.

Or even in a different sequence. In 1 Thessalonians it appears the martyrs are raised first and join Jesus’s invading army. Perhaps that happens before the Beast and Dragon are defeated. Again, Revelation isn’t in chronological order. It’s not a timeline—despite what those who make the timelines will tell you. (And regularly, their timelines are arranged to suit Revelation’s order of events—not the gospels’ order, nor Paul’s.)

So relax. There’s no real discrepancies about the End. Just some strange visions, which we can try to sort out with the other texts, but don’t freak out if we can’t. Jesus didn’t mean for us to figure out everything in Revelation. He didn’t make it an easy book.

The meaning of the events.

We didn’t see this great big battle between the Beast and Jesus in 1 Thessalonians. We do see a hint of it in 2 Thessalonians, ’cause there’s a lawless person which hadn’t yet been revealed at that time. Maybe that lawless person is the Beast. Maybe there have been lots of lawless people in the world, and so the Beast represents lawlessness in general. Either way, Jesus has to defeat it.

And lawlessness has a lot of supporters. Every libertine who doesn’t want the rules to apply to them; every libertarian who wants the government to just leave ’em alone; every Christian who claims God did away with his own commands, and we needn’t follow them anymore; every pagan who claims God has no commands, and leaves us free to follow our bliss. You wanna know how the Beast came up with its army? Good luck finding people who aren’t on its side. Tons of us Christians have already committed treason against Jesus for it. I know I have.

When Jesus defeats it, it’s not much of a battle. It’s the best the world has to offer, versus the one who created the universe by talking. But Jesus considered it worth a mention, so John got to see it. As well as a little extra bit about the birds getting to eat all the people whom Jesus is obligated to defeat first.

A lot of us Christians are bothered by the idea Jesus would kill people. As their creator, he has that prerogative. But when he was walking the earth, he didn’t have that sort of authority, and seeing him with it (and using it) tends to bother people. As it should. Jesus wants to undo death, not mete out more of it. But it is for the good of the universe that he possess his Kingdom, and if he’s gotta push aside some foolish warlords whom the Beast has deceived into taking its side, it sucks, but it’s gotta be done.

Other Christians, sad to say, aren’t bothered at all by the idea of enemies getting struck down. They’re looking forward to it. Jesus never taught, “Blessed are the vengeful, for their enemies will get theirs. Blessed are those who gather up guns, for they get a free pass to shoot government agents with them. Blessed are the warmongers, for the only true peace comes when drones drop bombs on terrorists.” Their twisted ideas are gonna make them exactly the sort of people the Beast will easily deceive. Until they come to their senses, they’re gonna wind up on the wrong end of Jesus’s sword.

In Revelation, the Christians don’t seem to spend any time reveling in their defeat: John only mentions dead martyrs, whom he describes simply as éxisan/“alive.” (I, and other bible translators, render it “made alive,” ’cause John soon after wrote about this as the “first resurrection.”)

We Christians are made alive so we can rule, as Jesus’s priests, for the next thousand years. Is this a literal millennium? No idea. It’s a mighty long time, either way. What are we doing as priests? Exactly what we do now: We have a relationship with Jesus, and represent him to people who have no relationship with him. We minister Jesus to them. So no, Jesus’s return isn’t Judgment Day… unless you’re the Beast, or in its army. Judgment Day comes later. There will still be pagans and non-Christians on the earth when Jesus takes it over. They won’t be happy about his takeover. Hopefully they’ll grow to love it, and him. But his reign is their last chance to turn to him before the very last day.

Or so it appears. Like I said, Revelation can’t be taken literally. Lots of Christians are pretty sure this millennial period doesn’t happen in the future, but is happening now: Jesus rules from heaven, and we represent him on earth. It only looks like this’ll take place in the future because we’re reading it in chronological order, and shouldn’t. After all, John describes them as “alive”—we intepret this to mean “resurrected,” but it may mean nothing more than “alive,” as in alive now.

Well, I’m not gonna come down hard and fast on one millennial interpretation or another. I’ll simply say that if you die before sorting things out with Jesus, you’ll either miss the millennium (if it’s future) or the rest of it (if it’s now), and only be resurrected for Judgment Day. So when we share Jesus with others, let’s not figure, “Meh; why try so hard? (Or at all?) Jesus will return, and that’ll convince them, and then they can repent.” We don’t know whether they get to repent by that point. We don’t know how much time anyone has. So don’t speculate, and don’t pin all your hopes on a speculation. Use the time you have wisely, so whatever happens, you’re good.