sense. Meanwhile his call is not to speculations but to practical insight and duties. The disciples are to beware of false Christs and deceivers; are to distrust any who say, "Lo, here is the Christ" or "Lo, there"; are to take trials as they come, and discount them as in the necessary order of things; are to be faithful stewards of their divinely given trust; and are to be always ready. "And what I say unto you I say unto all, Watch" (Mark xiii, 37). These sane and steadying counsels became the staple of the apostolic teaching (see, for example, St. Paul's earliest epistles, those to the Thessalonians). Their influence shaped the personal character which made the early Christian communities a notable contrast to the world around them. When we reflect that the gospels as we have them were not written till after the Pauline and other epistles, the evident effect here noted provokes the conclusion that this prophecy of Jesus must have been circulated and well known from the time it was uttered. It is, indeed, thought to have been current among the churches as a kind of tract apart from the gospels in which we read it, and to have been incorporated in the completed gospels afterward.1 II. THE REVELATION OF JOHN The resurgence of prophecy in its most pronounced apocalyptic2 form is evidenced in the last book of the Bible, written late in the first century A.D., and entitled "The Revelation (apokalupsis) of Jesus Christ, which God gave him, to show unto his servants things which must shortly come to pass." It was written by "his servant John," an exile in Patmos; but whether this was the apostle John the son of Zebedee is uncertain. It is written in a vein somewhat similar to that of the fourth gospel and the Epistles of John, which fact has caused a general belief that the same author wrote all 1 See Burkitt, “The Gospel History and its Transmission,” pp. 62, 63. ' 2 For the beginnings of apocalyptic prophecy, see above, p. 147, note 2. the works at different periods of his life. Like the gospel, it views Jesus as the unique Son of God; and like the uniform Christian teachings it regards him as not yet come in the fullness of his kingdom and power, but as revealing in mystic and symbolic language the manner and accompaniments of his coming, and the final things after the turmoils and tribulations of history are over. NOTE. Its Supposed Relationship to John's Works. Browning thus explains its relation, as purely reported prophecy, to the general teaching of the evangelist John, whom he regards as its author: Since I, whom Christ's mouth taught, was bidden teach, I went, for many years, about the world, Saying, "It was so; so I heard and saw," Speaking as the case asked: and men believed. Afterward came the message to myself In Patmos isle; I was not bidden teach, But simply listen, take a book and write, With nothing left to my arbitrament To choose or change: I wrote, and men believed.1 I The Apocalyptic Warrant. Like its prototype the Book of Daniel, the Revelation of John comes from a time of fierce persecution; and one object of it doubtless was to stay and comfort the oppressed church with a sure conviction of hope and triumph. But this is far from giving its whole or its main purpose. Its warrant lay in the bosom of the church itself, which was filled with tendencies that needed to be corrected and clarified. ent Perils In the general expectation of Christ's coming, or parousia, there were many elements yet unexplained and in danger of From Pres- atrophy through unbelief. The Second Epistle of Peter, written under conditions similar to those of the Revelation, mentions the godless mockers of the time as saying, "Where is the promise of his coming? 1 Browning, "A Death in the Desert," ll. 135–144. for, from the day that the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation" (2 Pet. iii, 4). This would seem to point to a widespread prevalence of the sentiment that Christianity was not the radical regenerative power it was meant to be; in modern terms, was not "making good." This sentiment would naturally be made much of by the foes and critics of the new life, who could judge it only from without. But also within the Christian community were dangers of much the same kind, which threatened the purity and even the existence of the distinctive Christian life. Such dangers had been warned against in the letters to Timothy (1 Tim. i, 20; 2 Tim. ii, 17, 18); and men had been singled out by name whose word, as was said, would "eat as doth a gangrene." The First Epistle of John, as we have noted,1 was largely concerned to oppose two such perils (essentially rather than by name) that of the Nicolaitans, who used their Christian profession as a cloak for licentiousness; and that of Cerinthus, whom, because he denied that the Christ of the flesh could be divine, the epistle brands as antichrist. The general tendency of these corrupting influences seems to have been twofold: to undifferentiate the Christian character, merging it in the sensuality and immorality of the world; and to make men dead to the value, and even the belief, of Christ's parousia. The presence of these evil tendencies is apparent in the messages to the Seven Churches which John prefixes to his Revelation (chapters ii and iii); some of which he warns against Nicolaitan and similar infections (for example, Pergamum, ii, 15 and cf. Ephesus, vs. 6; Thyatira, ii, 20), and others he rebukes for being spiritually dead or lukewarm (Sardis, iii, 1 ; Ephesus, ii, 4; Laodicea, iii, 15). To men of such tendency the sharp persecution which called forth the Apocalypse would be less a calamity than a providence, testing the real fiber of their Christian 1 See above, p. 653. allegiance; and a prophecy which would concentrate their life anew on the supreme issues of Christ's coming would be fully warranted by prevailing conditions. Such a prophecy was the Revelation of John. ited Ideas But there was more in the function of such a prophecy than to be a prophylactic against encroaching evils; so much From Inher- more that this is only incidental. In the literature of prophecy which the Christians had inherited from Old Testament times there was still a vast amount yet unfilled and unidentified. Its glowing oracles, its symbols, its realistic portrayals of a new order of things, were largely inert and unvalued, like so much useless lumber; and this state of things was aggravated by the general apathy that was invading the church. Something had been done by such works as the Epistle to the Hebrews to apply the prophetic values of the old régime; but much remained to be done. A new prophecy was needed to validate the old. Especially was this true of the most sweeping and comprehensive prophecy of all: the Second Isaiah's prophecy of new heavens and a new earth (Isa. lxv, 17-25; lxvi, 22, 23). The time was passing and wickedness was increasing, with less and less likelihood of its fulfillment. The author of Second Peter, whom we may regard as a kind of understudy of the Johannine epistles, felt acutely the reproaches which such unfulfilled promises were eliciting. He reiterates the primitive Christian conviction that Christ's parousia will be accompanied by fiery destruction and judgment (2 Pet. iii, 7). He explains its delay by the idea that "one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years are as one day" (2 Pet. iii, 8). But as the upshot of it all, denying slackness on the part of the Lord, he plants his faith on Isaiah's crowning prophecy: "But, according to his promise, we look for new heavens and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness (2 Pet. iii, 13). All the vicissitudes of history and nature are but preliminary to this. And this, as the final and crowning prophecy of the Apocalypse, the calm consummation after all its visualized turmoils and storms, evinces the abundant warrant for its existence. It is not only a prophecy in itself; it is a summary and concentration of prophecy, as this has accumulated through ages of history and literature. II Its Symbolism, Inherited and Initiated. The Book of Revelation takes us over into the prophetic realm, which of itself requires an educated and spiritualized sense to realize; and withal.it is prophecy of a specific kind, namely, prophetic vision. It aims to portray the ultimate meanings of Biblical evolution in terms of the visible and audible. A vision, to be made intelligible to others, must be visualized, that is, put into terms of sense perception; for it is by the organs of sense that men in the flesh communicate with one another. But beyond the sensible image there is an inner meaning, which can be apprehended only as the vision awakens in the one to whom it is told a spiritual state similar to that of the teller. If the hearer has no such susceptibility to receive, the vision is to him only a grotesque and a monstrosity; it is like trying to appreciate music without a musical ear, or color when one is color-blind. In other words, the visual image is a symbol. It directs the mind inward to a spiritual truth or principle so analogous to the material phenomenon that in those who have the proper susceptibility the one elicits the other. A prophetic vision is thus like Jesus' parables on a larger scale. He spoke these to the "outsiders," as he said, in order that they might see and yet not see (cf. Mark iv, II, 12). To unlock their meaning men must have the fitting spiritual combination; or, as he expressed it, "He that hath ears to hear, let him hear" (Matt. xi, 15; xiii, 9, 16). 1 See above, p. 549. |