Tackling the Book of Revelation

The ships of the faithful will not capsize

Last week, Kathleen and I read the last chapter of Revelation together, thus completing our most recent read-through of the Bible – at the rate of one chapter a day.

This “revelation,” or unveiling, which God gave through Jesus to show the exiled John was more puzzling to us than our usual daily Bible readings. It was given for the benefit of the seven churches of western Asia. Its scrolls and seals and plagues; beast and dragon and Abyss; different colored horses and symbolic numbers; and all the scene-changes — these came at us in such rapid succession that our imaginations were severely challenged to try to keep up!

To me it seemed kaleidoscopic. Kathleen was a little more nimble in moving from one curious picture to the next.

Having completed the entire Bible, our custom is to turn the next day to the first book of the Bible, Genesis, to begin our next read-through. But we decided instead to travel through the Revelation once again, this time taking it even more slowly if we must. And that’s what we are currently doing — with great profit!

But first we had to be clear about what sort of literature “the Apocalypse” is.

We know from the name of the book that it is a “Revelation,” an “Apocalypse” — which means an unveiling. But the writer also calls it a prophecy (1:3). That is, the spirit of prophesy has been awakened and God is once more speaking through a man. But to do so, it appears, he will use what someone has called cartoon language, filled with concrete images, rich in symbolism. Thus, he gives his servant, John, visions through which he conveys his word about “what must soon take place” (1:1).

In our second reading it is already becoming apparent that he speaks to the fears and uncertainties of believers who wonder: where is God when evil appears to be so powerful and destructive, and when will he bring the present iniquitous and frightening age to some positive turn towards him, or judgment? And how will a new age, free of such hurtful evil, be brought about?

Kathleen and I are already several chapters into the book in our second read-through.

Chapter four has always been among my favorites. What holds my attention in chapter four is that in the heavenly world — not seen to the human eye but seen by revelation to the spirit — there is a throne, and that throne is occupied! It has not been vacated, captured, or in any way damaged by attacks.

And when one reads the chapter again and again one sees that the word “throne” appears repeatedly. It is “in heaven” and it turns up ten times in eleven short verses. This is obviously intentional and must tell us what the real issue of Revelation four is: however dark our circumstances and however menacing the times, God is on his throne — he rules!

One thing I’ve learned about life as a serious believer in Jesus Christ is that when issues arise that threaten to shake my foundations, that picture in my mind of the throne of God seems to quickly firm up my faith. It stabilizes me.

We know already from our previous reading that there will be heavy judgments ahead to be visited on the world for its evil, like storms visited upon ships at sea, but the ships of the faithful will not capsize because God is on his throne.

The mystery of evil is still with us. At times it perplexes, even nearly overwhelms. It turns up at the power-center of nations, in small communities, often in families, even in the church. But the Eternal God rules from his throne, high, lifted-up, and in charge, in the face of every storm!

A Little Love Story

Long before his life-transforming Christian conversion on May 21, 1738, Charles Wesley, the hymn writer of Methodism, had resolved not to marry. His brother John and other members of the holy club at Oxford shared the same resolution. He began to reconsider his resolution as mid-life approached.

At 39 years of age, while preaching in South Wales, a certain Marmaduke Gwynne, a convert under Methodist preaching, came to see him. He took Charles to his estate — named Garth. At the Gwynne mansion there were nine children and 20 servants. During six days of preaching in the area, Charles felt drawn back to Garth several times.

He was attracted to Sarah (Miss Sally) Gwynne. She was 21 and he, was nearly 40. Could anything come of this attraction?

After six days he left Wales for Ireland to guide a rapidly growing Methodist movement in the region of Dublin. For six months, he preached there, sometimes several times a day. He and the new converts were repeatedly attacked by mobs that showed no limit to their fury. They threw stones, ransacked Methodist homes, even wounded or killed. Amidst it all he was consoled and strengthened by letters from Sally.

Then, it was a rugged trip back to Garth by ship, ferry, and a 120 mile ride on horseback facing into a cold, driving rain. Exhausted from the efforts in Ireland plus the journey, he was sick when he arrived, but he was nursed back to health and preached and served the sacrament of communion at Garth.

He began to think of marriage, but several matters had to be attended to. His foremost question: Sally was raised in a devout family, and had heard an outstanding Methodist evangelist, Howell Harris, preach, but had she personally experienced redeeming grace? He would not compromise on this question; a superficial answer would not do; but in due time his question was answered to his satisfaction.

Sally’s mother was favorable to Charles as a husband for Sally but asked what assurance could he give that he — an itinerant preacher without a settled income — could support her? Charles consulted his publisher. He and his brother talked with a banker. It was established that royalties from his books would be more than enough to provide the 100 pounds a year Mrs. Gwynne required. When brother, John gave written assurance of this fact, she approved.

On April 9, 1749, Charles and Sally were married at Garth. It was a day filled with sunshine and joy. He wrote that his brother seemed the happiest of all present.

Was it a great love? In her mid-twenties Sally’s beauty was scarred horribly by life-threatening smallpox. This in no way diminished Charles’s love for her. She went with him on his preaching circuits and the Methodist people loved her dearly. Long into the marriage, his tender notes might begin: “My ever dearest Sally.”

They had eight children but only three of them survived childhood, two boys, Charles and Samuel, and one girl, Sarah (also Sally). The two sons were child prodigies as musicians and both became well known organists. Altogether the parents, Charles and Sally, had 39 years together until his death in 1788.

In the Wesley family there had been several matrimonial disappointments. Charles’s brilliant and vivacious sister, Hetty, became pregnant out of wedlock. Her father’s unforgiving spirit, bad judgment, and extended punishment further scarred her life. Even older brother John entered into a marriage that brought misery.

But these disappointments elsewhere in the family notwithstanding, the enduring bond between a traveling preacher with limited means and a woman born of wealth and privilege — with a difference of 19 years in age — registered by all accounts as a great love!

The Pastoral Passion Need Not Fade

I knew two weeks after my conversion to Christ at 16 years of age that the Lord was calling me to full-time service, and I testified to the fact. But not until seminary did that “call” become narrowed to pastoral ministry.

First I thought I would be a singing evangelist and began developing in that direction. Then during a final two years at college my thoughts went in the direction of teaching in a Christian college and I looked with some interest at an opportunity offered me to attend a graduate school at a good university.

But two months before graduating from college, I told the head of the English department, the late Mary Alice Tenney, that I had two options – university for a doctorate or seminary for a divinity degree. She responded instantly with great feeling, “O, Don, you should go to seminary.” I took that as a word from the Lord and spent no more time thinking about the university path.

During three years of seminary I was also a student pastor of a congregation 20 miles away. My wife and our four children lived near the church and I carpooled with other students each day. Each course I took seemed to fix my intention on pastoral ministry more solidly until by the time I graduated and our family headed for a church appointment 2,000 miles away, I had come to embrace pastoring as a life’s work.

During seminary, gleaning from here and there, I had latched onto a simple outline of what the pastoral task involved. I have never revised it except to fill it out more completely as I accumulated experience. I offer its three points here.

1. Preaching and teaching the Scriptures. Because real pastors have a passion to teach, preach and proclaim on more than just Sunday morning, they assume responsibility to make sure the Christian Scriptures infuse the life of the church in every respect – Sunday School, small groups, special courses, vacation Bible Schools, youth retreats, etc. They can’t do it all but with diligence they can see that it all gets done.

A special subset of this primary pastoral concern is to see that children are taught the catechism. Another is to encourage teachers to promote Bible memorization. And outreach programs into the neighborhood are monitored to be sure that what is practiced is Bible-based evangelism.

2. Pastoral Care. Pastors go out to their people. They visit them in their homes, listen to them in their studies, see them in hospital rooms, touch base with them in small groups, rejoice with them as they prepare for weddings, and sorrow with them when funerals must be planned. They reach beyond the faithful to those who have wandered from the path or who have never known the Lord.

Pastors can only preach and teach with heart if they learn of their parishioners’ joys and struggles by first-hand contact. And the people know when their pastor really cares for them.

3. Pastoral Oversight. Churches have to be administered and all churches are not administered on the same governing structures. Some are congregational, some are more episcopal, and yet others find a balance between the two. But in each case, the pastor has responsibility to know the rules established by constitution or by-laws and to live by them as well as help lay leaders to apply them.

I learned from experience and observation that pastors who understand and govern by established laws are less likely to generate misunderstandings, excite carnal outbursts, and even cause church splits. I learned also that well-administered churches are more likely to be harmonious and well-focused on mission.

It is now 37 years since I left my last pastoral assignment at the local level. During 19 subsequent years in the bishop’s office I determined to continue to think pastorally of the new assignment. Now, during 18 years of retirement this pastoral perspective continues to shape my thinking. It is so deep in me that my dreams often have their setting in churches Kathleen and I served together decades ago.

By the grace of God, the pastoral vision does not fade. I continue to visit local churches as a guest speaker. And once a semester I teach seminarians on pastoral issues. Most importantly, morning prayers in our house regularly include pastors far and wide. We pray that they will know Christ so intimately and their faith will be kept so fresh that they will work from a pastoral passion that does not diminish with the passing of the years.

Smiling While Shopping at Walmart

It was mid-afternoon and I was pushing my grocery cart toward the exit of Walmart when a middle-aged woman entering the store flashed me a big smile. I suddenly realized that I had been smiling at some pleasant thought that played across my brain and she must have thought I was smiling at her. Or perhaps she was just saying I’m happy too.

My observation is that not much smiling goes on in grocery stores. After all, there’s a lot to think about while shopping, like comparing the costs of two brands of paper towels or two different grades of eggs, or checking the calorie count of the new whole-grain Cheerios. And while you are doing all this, another part of your mind has to be aware of keeping your grocery cart out of the way of other shoppers.

(Someone should do a study about smiles in a grocery store. What percentage of shoppers smile at fellow shoppers in any one afternoon? What is most likely to prompt smiles? Do people who smile spend more or less money on average? Some pollster could figure out how to frame the questions. Anyhow, news reports citing such statistics would be a welcome relief from the poll results for presidential hopefuls we are treated to daily.)

Maybe an additional reason I don’t smile enough when I work my way down a shopping list in the grocery store is that grocery shopping is a relatively new experience for me. I’m still awkward at it. I’ve taken it up only since retiring and I’m not as patient and discriminating about it as Kathleen is. I sometimes bring the wrong thing home (like apple juice instead of apple cider vinegar).

Back when I was an assigned pastor I had a self-imposed rule that I would not run errands like grocery shopping during working hours. Some of my pastor friends thought that was a bit too rigorous but I had a reason. During working hours I was on duty.

I knew that the high school principal couldn’t take time off during the day to slip away to a grocery store for a couple of items she forgot the night before. And the vice-president of the bank couldn’t slip out for half an hour to get a dozen eggs. These people were on duty. Why shouldn’t working pastors consider themselves on duty also, I thought?

It is true that a pastor’s work sometimes beckons during hours when others are finished for the day. Even so, it may not appear professional for a parishioner to see her pastor pushing a shopping cart in the grocery store at 10 a.m.

I connect my self-imposed regulation during pastoral days with a strong work ethic — not a slavish one, not a compulsive one, just a robust joy in making time count, and in letting my people know that I take my assignment seriously.

That same thought brings me joy in setting myself a working schedule during retirement years — though one not so rigorous — and that thought may well be why I was smiling while leaving Walmart.