Two Tips for Reading the Book of Revelation

In all of my reading of articles and books and listening to different lectures on Revelation there stands out at least two—let’s call them tips—toward a better reading and understanding of that most ominous book of the Bible.

These two guides again, and again, have helped me, not to understand everything in Revelation—far from it—but to do what I can to allow the book to be what it is. The reason Revelation is often misunderstood and then, ultimately, caricatured is because we don’t allow Revelation to be what is is. Instead, we make it into the book we’d like it to be, which—as is always the case—does little else than pull us further away from what Revelation has to say for itself.

So, in an effort to let Revelation be Revelation, allow me to offer to you two tips for the next time you turn the page to this most exciting book of the Bible.

Tip #1: It is called Revelation, not The Destruction of All Things at the End of the World.

The first three words of Revelation—in Greek—are Apokalupsis Iesou Christou. In English, “The revelation of Jesus Christ.”

It’s that first word—apokalupsis—where we get our first bit of help in understanding the story Revelation is telling. The Greek word, apokalupsis, is rightly translated as revelation, but it could be translated as apocalypse—provided apocalypse still meant what it used to mean. The reason most, if not all, major English Bible translations have revelation over apocalypse is because apocalypse has come to mean something different in English than apokalupsis meant in ancient Koine Greek. Contrary to the meaning of apocalypse today, apokalupsis does not mean the destruction of all things at the end of the world. Instead, it means to make something known that was not yet made fully known (i.e., a revelation).

So, before anyone turns the page to the first words of Revelation, we must get rid the assumed idea that this book is going to tell us about how the world is going to end. This is difficult because, if we come to the book with this specific understanding of the main theme, a lot of the events in Revelation end up fitting into that theme quite nicely (plagues, riders on horses, one with a sword, blood, a beast, a dragon, etc.). It’s the same self-fulfilling prophecy we see with those going to the dentist or getting their blood drawn. Fortunately, a trip to the dentist rarely—if ever—turns out as bad as we sometimes think it will.

I suggest we allow the first three words of this amazing book to shine a light forward through its pages. Let’s read Revelation as if it is actually telling the story of how Jesus is going to reveal and be revealed to the world because, of course, that’s what Apokalupsis Iesou Christou means.

Tip #2: Before Revelation can have any meaning and application for us, today, it must have a meaning and application to those to whom it was immediately written, back then.

How many times have you heard someone—perhaps even yourself—use Revelation as a key to interpret “end-times events” in our present day?

I submit it’s nearly the constant drumbeat of popular-level interpretations of this book. This is a problem, though—a huge problem—because if Revelation didn’t really start to make sense and find meaning until our day, what in the world were people doing with it for nearly 2,000-years before us?

In the same way we ought not make Revelation tell the story we want it to tell, we ought not read it as though it was written primarily to us, now. When John penned these words, while exiled on Patmos, he was surely writing them for the people of his day—for the church of his day. It would be amazing to me to think of John finishing the final words of Revelation—“The grace of the Lord Jesus be with God’s people. Amen.”—and thinking to himself, “Wow. I don’t understand anything of what I’ve written, but I hope someone, a long time from now, will be able to figure it out!”

No. When John finished Revelation he knew that what he had been shown (an apokalupsis) was something important for his believing brothers and sisters of his day. This is, of course, what is mentioned at at the very beginning of the book: “…which God gave him to show to his servants the things that must soon take place” (Rev. 1:1b).

Now, we can debate what the word soon means in the mind of God (and John), and how it ought to be interpreted in the context of the book as a whole, but what we can’t say is that the book had no immediate relevance to the readers—and the early Christian church—of the first-century. Revelation was a book for its time—then—and, by the grace of God, remains a book for our time—now—just as it will remain a book for those after us.

In order to remain on the right track for understanding what is contained in Revelation, we must do our best to remember that whatever meaning we think we’ve found within its pages, must be compatible with what the readers of John’s day found, too.

Must We Take Jesus Literally?

Introduction

When it comes to taking someone or something (a written document, a movie, or a song) literally, there are some pretty serious pitfalls to avoid. This true and even more so when it comes to the Scriptures. Some people strenuously object to taking the Bible literally because of the “danger” a literal interpretation produces. They bring up issues like stoning, fire from heaven that wipes out entire groups of people, God striking down people, or hell as the “dangerous” implications of taking the Bible literally. Others insist that we must take the Bible literally because if we don’t then we end up making the Bible say whatever we’d like it to say. These people bring up topics like salvation, the resurrection of Jesus, miracle healing, or heaven as a warning to those who want to get rid of the literal interpretations. They insist that an abandonment of the literalness of the Scriptures will inevitably result in getting rid of these wonderful gifts from God.

Now, as the title makes plain, I’ve asked the question “Must we take Jesus literally?” I’ve asked this question not to try and solve this non-literal/literal argument that’s been going on for a long time now, but to give what I think is a helpful interpretive boundary marker related to matters of literalness. I’d like to do this by focusing on two statements Jesus makes in the Gospel of John What I want to do with these two statements is to set up the boundary markers and then explore what it looks like to interpret the verses within those markers.

Boundary Markers

When any sort of biblical interpretation is undertaken there needs to be boundary markers clearly established so one does not find themselves off wandering on their own and inevitably coming up with some interpretation only connected to the text in the slightest of ways. In order to avoid this type of wandering I’d like to suggest three boundary markers.

First, I should probably say something about the boundary markers. They are listed 1, 2, 3, but they are not intended to be implemented in a particular order of rank. As I see it, these boundary markers are best used when they overlap and crisscross each other while you’re working hard to understand a passage of Scripture.

Another thing I’d like to say about the boundary markers is that they are not the means by which you will understand what Scripture says—the Holy Spirit is. These boundary markers could be a great help to you, and they may be a means the Holy Spirit uses to bring you to a good understanding of a particular text, but he is the means, so rely and trust him.

The last thing I’d like to say about the boundary markers that are going to be listed is that these aren’t the only ones—the list isn’t complete. In this list I haven’t said anything about archaeology, textual criticism, genre, or historical, practical, biblical, and systematic theology. These three are simply a safe place to move forward from. A place that will hopefully prepare you to recognize the rest of the boundary markers.

Now, with all that being said, the boundary markers.

1. Allow the text to say what it says. (We didn’t write Scripture; therefore, there’s no reason for us to be importing our meaning onto the text.)

2. Assume the best from the text. (Scripture has not been given by God to us to trip us up; it’s given to tell us about him and grow us up into greater sanctification.)

3. Use normal rational interpretation for difficult sections. (If a text is particularly difficult to understand, trust that you have the natural rational abilities to break it down.)

Example

John 10:9 (NIV): I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out, and find pasture.

The decision between non-literal and literal really comes into focus in a verse like John 10:9 because Jesus says that he’s a gate. Now, for those out there who don’t think we must take what Jesus says literally, they’re probably quick to point out that Jesus doesn’t believe he is an actual gate. Why in the world would Jesus think that? That’s something a crazy person says and Jesus isn’t crazy. That much is right and good. Of course, though, it’s not quite that simple.

Those who think we must take Jesus literally would probably very much want to say that Jesus is a gate because Jesus said he was. The literal folks, however, would most assuredly say that Jesus is not a gate in the sense of something on hinges, attached to a fence. It’s here where both groups have more in common than they might assume.

Neither group believes that Jesus thinks he is a actual wooden gate. What both groups need to be cognizant of is what Jesus means by saying he is a gate. We get help in this interpretive matter by looking to what else Jesus says. After saying he is the gate he says, “whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out, and find pasture.” Through the context of the rest of the statement we can see that Jesus has called himself the gate because he is the means by which his sheep will enter the pasture. It’s a word picture.

Again, the question we get to ask is: Must we take Jesus literally when he calls himself the gate?
Answer: Yes, but….

Jesus is literally the gate—that much is clear from the context. And, Jesus is not literally a gate that swings on hinges—that much is clear from the context.

Conclusion

What do we do then with the rest of the interesting or difficult verses? We look at them one by one and diligently work through what they are saying. It probably also wouldn’t be a bad idea to drop using the term literal when interpreting the Scriptures. As we can see from the example given, the question isn’t really over what’s literal. The question is over whether or not we’re going to take what Jesus says seriously.

To brush Jesus aside because only fools call themselves gates is to miss the point completely. To insist that one must use the language of literal when driving home the point that Jesus didn’t actually mean he was a gate in the physical sense is to probably miss the point as well. To take Jesus seriously and on his own terms is the best way to both understand what Jesus means and to apply that meaning to our lives.