(This post is part 4 of my 8 part series on interpreting Revelation faithfully. You can read the other posts in the series here.)

Rule #3: Revelation was written in the shadow of Rome’s imperial cult.

When we understand the time period, we can understand the circumstances under which John was writing the book of Revelation.

This idea isn't revolutionary. When someone you follow on Instagram makes a vague but political statement, you can probably discern what she is alluding to based upon what appeared in the newspaper that day. When your husband texts you with a quirky quote, you know its context because of the series you've been binging together on Netflix.

Similarly, John did not write from a vacuum. He wrote in a specific place during a specific time period. Piecing together what was happening, and specifically what John and his Christian audience perceived was happening, is where the challenge lies.

Here's what we do know: during the first century, the Roman emperors started declaring themselves divine, often assigning themselves the title “Son of God.” The early Christians were considered unpatriotic atheists because they refused to worship the Roman gods, instead declaring that the Jesus was the true Son of God. Refusing to honor the emperor was viewed as treason against the empire.

John was concerned that persecution would soon break out against the church. John himself was exiled on Patmos, a Roman penal colony, most likely for speaking out against the evils of Rome. It also appears that Antipas of Pergamum was killed for his faith (Rev. 2:13). It's unclear how much persecution occurred in the first century, but it does appear that it was sporadic and localized. One major moment in history was when Nero accused the Christians as being responsible for a fire in A.D. 64. Nevertheless, it's clear that John was anticipating a difficult time in the life of the Church. He was also concerned that the church would become complacent and bow to Rome’s imperial religion.

In Rule #2, we discussed how helpful it is to understand Revelation as a form of "resistance literature." Now that we have a feel for John's situation, we can better understand what John was persuading the early Christians to resist: Rome's imperial cult.

The book of Revelation is a critique, and sometimes a parody, of the Roman imperial cult. 

In Revelation, John calls out Rome's oppressive power and its very blasphemous claims. Rome claimed that she was chosen by the gods, her emperors were conduits of the gods' rule, and that all of her blessings were a result of the gods' favor. Temples, rituals, and images portraying these values were constructed all across the Roman Empire. Because Rome had successfully become the power she was through violence and enslavement (pax Romana), these means of power were sanctified as divine intervention. Moreover, the emperor was worthy of praise and allegiance. Simply put, Rome's imperial cult was an inflation of "God and country."

 Revelation is an emphatic "no" to this ideology. In Revelation, John counters all of Rome's symbols with prophetic symbols. Ultimate allegiance belongs not to a false demi-god, but to the one true living God. Success comes not from military prowess, but from faithful, non-violent resistance and dependence upon the Lamb who was slain.

Do some of Rome's religious claims sound familiar? That's because we in the 21st Century live in kingdoms and nations, even democratic republican nations, that hold to similar, false, theopolitical claims. But I'm getting ahead of myself. More on that later in another rule!

John MacArthur has had a lot to say about social justice this past month.

So have I.

John MacArthur is a big name in evangelical Christianity, known for his numerous books, Calvinist/Cessationist theology, and pastoral position at Grace Community Church. A few weeks ago, John MacArthur made some statements that undermined the church's involvement in issues of "social justice." Simply put, MacArthur contended that social justice is actually a threat to the church's mission of proclaiming the Gospel.

Since then, he's released a statement against social justice and has urged pastors and leaders to sign it. At the time that I write this, there have been over 8,000 people who have signed this statement.

There are so many things wrong with this statement: from matters of the inerrancy of Scripture, to the denial of social sin, to the separation of justice from the gospel, to the rejection of the term "gay Christian," to the role of women in leadership, to racism as a systemic evil (!) ... I have a hard time knowing even where to start.

Actually, I know where I want to start: "What they heck? Have they read any of the prophets AT ALL?"

But let's start with the core of the statement, through which many of MacArthur's other points come: the Gospel. Here's what he says:

The word "gospel" means "good news," but this doesn't sound like very much good news to me. This is an extremely narrow view of what the Gospel is and doesn't take into account all of Scripture's (both the OT and the NT) understanding of "salvation." Clearly McArthur and friends think that the only "good news" to be found is the forgiveness of our sins.

This puts God in a straight-jacket, because God's ultimate mission was never to just save our sins; God has the full redemption of the cosmos in his sight.

And this mission is not secondary to rescuing individuals from their individualized sin. The shalom of the entire world is not just "legitimate and important in [its] own right." It is the mission.

Very rarely do the prophets talk about the personal sins of God's people. Instead, they spend the vast majority of their critiques calling out social sin and demanding that God's people act justly and mercifully. This is because the prophets understood that collective sins were indicative of an entire community's individual sins. According to the prophets, the biggest enemy God's people faced was not Assyria or Egypt; it was their own social sin.

But perhaps we should make our case with evidence from the New Testament, because clearly MacArthur and friends do not think that the Gospel is in the Old Testament.

In Luke 4, Jesus stood before and entire synagogue and made the following claim from Isaiah 61:1-2:

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

This passage makes up Luke's entire "thesis statement" for the rest of his gospel. Notice that nowhere does Jesus mention that he was sent to save people from their sin. Luke's gospel is a Gospel of social justice.

Rule #2: Revelation has three different genres, and each of these genres has its own set of rules.

When we know the rules, we know how to play. This is true for any game, whether it be Monopoly, Simon Says, or Call of Duty. It's also true for the book of Revelation.

Half of the battle in interpreting Revelation is understanding its genres and the subsequent rules that come with these genres. Just about every form of modern entertainment has a genre, including movies and books. A genre is a literary type that completely dictates the ways in which we should interpret the subject. We would interpret a fantasy novel very differently from how we would interpret a newspaper article. Each genre has its own set of rules, and in order to be immersed in a book or movie, we must let go of reality (to an extent) and accept the rules of the genre (even if they sometimes break logic).

For example, an action movie is not complete without a car chase. Car chases typically take place during the busiest part of rush hour and challenge the very laws of physics. We believe that James Bond’s vehicle can rush through a busy intersection without accumulating so much as a scratch, but we would not dare try the same feat as we travel to the grocery store to pick up some milk. This is because physically impossible feats are one of the "rules" of an action movie.

Rule #1: Revelation cannot mean what it was never meant to mean.

First, let me apologize to all of you who are part of the grammar police brigade about the double negative in this rule. I couldn't figure out how to word this any other way. I accept my citation and fine. Feel free to suggest other wording options so as to save me from grammatical embarrassment in the future.

During the time Revelation was written, the early Christians lived in fear of what their future could hold. The signs of the times were pointing toward persecution. They felt threatened by the tyranny of the Roman Empire. The future felt bleak. It was dark.

But in the opening portion of Revelation, John refers to Jesus as the one who holds the "seven stars" (Rev. 1:16; 2:1; 3:1). In John's world, the "seven stars" were the sun and the moon, along with the five planets humans can see with the naked eye (Jupiter, Venus, Saturn, Mercury, and Mars). These stars were thought to be divine entities that controlled the events occurring on the earth. People in ancient times charted the stars and used them as maps to predict the future. A new star could mean the birth of a king (as exemplified by the magi's interpretation in Matt. 2). A short lunar cycle was a bad omen and could signify death and destruction.

Many scholars believe that Revelation was written during the time of the Roman emperor Domitian's rule. If this is the case, there was a coin in circulation during Domitian's reign that depicted Domitian's son surrounded by seven stars. This was representative of the Roman Empire's belief that their emperors were gods, capable of controlling the present and the future.

But in this passage it is Jesus who holds the stars, not Rome, not Domitian, not Domitian's son. It is Jesus who holds the future.

Revelation, then, is not meant to frighten; it is meant to comfort. For the early Christians, Revelation was not a horror story - it was a lullaby, soothing the believers worries about the future.

Revelation tells us that yes, the bough may break, and yes, the cradle may fall, but Jesus is there to catch us in his loving arms. Revelation challenges us to live faithfully in spite of the terrors of the night, trusting the One who holds the stars in his hand.

We don't need to be afraid of the dark.

P.S. Over the next few weeks I'll be posting a series about how to interpret Revelation in a way that is faithful to its first century context. Check back and join me! In the meantime, what have been your experiences with the book of Revelation - the good, the bad, or the ugly? Tell me about them!

My husband and I then go to church, which has become radically different for us. For the past four years I've been on staff at churches, during which Sunday was another day of work. I've enjoyed this new season where I can enjoy the gathering together of God's people as part of my Sabbath practice.

When I got home from church last week, I spent the rest of the morning in the kitchen making cream-filled donuts. I mean, Sabbath is all about being drawn into God's presence, and what's a better way to do that than through fried sweets? Shout it with me: "Hallelujah!"



In the afternoon, my husband and I head to the park and do some hiking. We love to be in nature. I also really like to draw/paint as part of my Sabbath practice.


As my 24-hour period draws to a close, I start thinking about my work week and doing any preparation I need. I'll make a meal plan/grocery list, write what I need to accomplish in my planner, pack lunches, and pick out an outfit for the next day.

At the close of every Sabbath, I think to myself, "This was my most favorite day!" Seriously. Sabbath is all about taking care of your soul.

Once again, your Sabbath may not look like this, and that's okay. Let's not be legalistic about what Sabbath should look like. It's not a one-size-fits-all.

But if you would like some ideas on how you can keep Sabbath better, this sample from Enough: Celebrating the God of Freedom and Abundance has some practical worksheets to help you access your current rest habits and guide you toward embracing Sabbath as a lifestyle.



Shabat shalom!

"Save me, God!"

We've all uttered these words at some point in our lives -- when we're desperate, when we're at the end of our rope, when we've given up hope.

When we're at this point, we become so focused on what we need deliverance from. Our dire circumstance locks us into tunnel vision so that we can't see anything beyond the present. Foreseeing any sort of future beyond where we are is impossible.

If anyone was in the midst of impossible circumstances where all hope seemed lost, it was the Israelites. Over and over again, the Old Testament tells the story of how God delivered his people and gave them a new future. They cried, "Save me, God!" and he listened. He saved them out of his loving kindness (hesed).

But he didn't stop there.

God delivered his people because he loved them, but God also delivered them because they were his vehicle through which he would bring redemption to the entire world.

God doesn't just deliver us from something; he delivers us for something.

God delivers us from our sin so that we can participate in his kingdom. He delivers us from our addiction to our sinful nature so that we can live lives characterized by his holiness. He delivers us from unhealthy habits, relationships, and situations so that we can experience his full shalom. God desires to deliver us for something.

There have been several times in my life when God delivered me from something and for something. I keep thinking back on all the ways I've seen his faithfulness:

• When I first decided to follow Christ, I remember feeling a deep sense of belonging and purpose, like God was calling me to a new life in him. 
• When God delivered me from bondage to my sinful nature (we Wesleyans call this process "sanctification"), I sensed a call to ministry. 
• When God delivered me from the pressures of fitting into the "Biblical scholar" role forced upon me while I was in seminary, he gave me a job that helped me discover my best self.

This past year, God delivered me in a huge way from a toxic church system. He gave me a way out when the dysfunction was at an all-time high and my hope was at an all-time low. He fought for me, and all I had to do was be still. He gave me the words to say, and the courage to say them. I can't express how grateful I am for his faithful, loving kindness.

Yet...

While I certainly know what I was delivered from, I'm still not sure what I was delivered for. When we're stuck in sin, abuse, and injustice, it's hard to imagine a future. The tunnel vision persists. Then suddenly we're out on the other side and a big, wide-open future exists.

Even before we can tentatively imagine a future for ourselves beyond the "now," God already has. 

God's grace goes before us and starts preparing a new way. And so in this new season of slowness and quietness I am waiting and listening. I'm trusting that God has a "for" in mind. I'm resisting the urge to rush into something new just for the sake of having "something." Instead, I'm looking for the ways that he is leading me and the quiet ways that he has consistently showed up every day.

God was faithful to deliver me, and he will be faithful to guide me.

Trust in God's goodness with me, dear friend. May our brave act of resistance be imagining new futures with new purposes.

I started practicing Sabbath a year ago in response to how much I prioritized my work and achievements. Let me tell you, friends, Sabbath-keeping is a huge game changer when it comes to spiritual maturity.

After keeping Sabbath for as little as a month, I was amazed at how much resting changed how I view every single area of my life.

It changed how I view God.
It changed how I view myself.
It changed how I view my possessions.
It changed how I view others.

I thought that I already viewed all of these relational spaces correctly. If you had asked me about them a year ago, I could have told you the right theological answers. But Sabbath-keeping converted the head-knowledge to heart-knowledge.

You see, we typically abide by Descartes' pattern of reason: I think, therefore I am.

What Sabbath taught me is this: I am, therefore I think.

Before I could think properly, the I AM had to show me who I am.

Sabbath taught me to build my identity upon the relationship that I have with God. By practicing Sabbath, I grew into this identity, which in turn changed how I thought about all the rest of my relationships.

I'm sure the Israelites had to have this same shift in thinking when God first gave them the Sabbath command in the book of Exodus. As a people group who had been enslaved for 400 years, they had been deeply ingrained with the idea that their worth came from how productive they were. They weren't ever permitted to stop and rest, and God's Sabbath command was extremely jarring to them. It challenged their former identity as slaves. It called them to a new way of doing.

But slowly, by keeping the Sabbath command faithfully, the Israelites grew out of their relationship with Egypt and into their relationship with Yahweh. God used the Sabbath to restructure their way of doing, which in turn led to a new way of thinking. Sabbath-keeping helped the Israelites form a new identity in the relationship they had with Yahweh. Through Sabbath, God does the same thing with us today.

Right thinking doesn't always lead to right doing. But right doing often leads to right thinking.