From Revelation 11: Short-lived Celebration

“Those who live on the earth will gloat over them and celebrate and send gifts to one another because these two prophets had tormented those who live on the earth.” (v. 10)

Yes, we are looking ahead here, as the Spirit gives us a glimpse of what is to come.

But let’s be honest:

It applies to today.

Take, for example, the martyrdom of God’s witnesses. The Revelation reveals two such witnesses, who prophesy in the last days, whose downfall is public and violent and tragic. And—here’s the key—the whole world gloats about it. They celebrate it. They make it a holiday.

It is, of course, a short-sighted and short-lived celebration. God raises His servants to life and to heaven—as judgment unfolds on the earth.

Now consider today:

Whenever believers stumble or churches struggle, more than a few folks celebrate. There are entire websites dedicated to celebrating the failures of pastors and ministry leaders. This is not to say that we defend a stumbler’s sin. It is simply to point out that the wider world already loves to gloat when Christians fall.

But it’s a short-lived celebration. We believe in the miracle of grace for the repentant. We also believe that, while martyrs and stumblers can both be raised by Him, mockers will come to judgment. Gloating today is tragedy in the end.

So keep looking forward. But don’t be afraid to see now a little bit of what is not yet.

— Tyler

From Revelation 10: The Sweet and the Bitter

“Then I took the little scroll from the angel’s hand and ate it. It was as sweet as honey in my mouth, but when I ate it, my stomach became bitter. And they said to me, ‘You must prophesy again about many peoples, nations, languages, and kings.’” (vv. 10-11)

Think about the “little scroll”—given to the prophet, by the angel, with an instruction to eat it.

He is told that it will be sweet in his mouth. And it is!

Then he is told…that it won’t sit well. That it will make his stomach bitter. And it does!

It’s an odd moment, made clear by the angel’s concluding remark: he tells the revelator that he must yet prophesy to peoples and nations and kings.

You see, the truth of Revelation—of God’s judgment, of Christ’s return, and of the end of this earth—is actually sweet to the believer. We are comforted by the Lamb’s mercies. We are relieved by the realization that what has been promised is, in fact, so. We are captivated by the picture of rescue, of rapture, and of heaven. It’s sweet.

But, in the days before the final trumpet sounds, it doesn’t always sit well.

Christ’s people are called to be witnesses—but they won’t always be welcomed. We’ll be reviled, persecuted, even attacked. We will hope higher for our hearers than they might hope themselves. Our hearts will break when many choose darkness over the Light.

I look at the world, at those who might miss Jesus all the way to the end, and I feel that, right in my middle. What is sweet to me doesn’t always sit well.

— Tyler

From Revelation 9: The Horror of Hardness

“The rest of the people, who were not killed by these plagues, did not repent of the works of their hands to stop worshiping demons and idols of gold, silver, bronze, stone, and wood, which cannot see, hear, or walk. And they did not repent of their murders, their sorceries, their sexual immorality, or their thefts.” (vv. 20-21)

The harshest reality we face, evangelistically, is the hardness of human hearts.

There are some—in fact there are many—who remain utterly hardened against the Gospel. They reject their Creator. They spurn Christ. They, by counting the truth as a lie, blaspheme the Holy Spirit.

And that’s really hard for us to get.

Please know that their rejection is not of you or your church or your invitation. Their rejection is of Holy God. And, if someone is wholly in love with darkness rather than light, there is no message or sign or ministry that will convince them otherwise.

Revelation 9 ends with a horrifying picture: As judgment unfolds—as death and destruction rend the earth—there are many who still refuse repentance. They cling to their idols. They sit put in their sin. They know, by then, what all of that earns. They simply keep choosing it.

Like I said, it’s horrifying. But it is also clarifying: Like them, so many today choose the same.

Grieve that, and don’t give up—but also know that salvation belongs to the Lord, and there are (and will be) many who deny Him to the end.

— Tyler

From Revelation 8: It gets worse (but not for you)

“I looked and heard an eagle flying high overhead, crying out in a loud voice, ‘Woe! Woe! Woe to those who live on the earth, because of the remaining trumpet blasts that the three angels are about to sound!’” (v. 13)

Yes, it gets worse.

But not for you.

When we read John’s Spirit-given vision of the eschaton—the end—we are struck. The awfulness of the unmaking of the earth is, in fact, striking. Judgment comes. Nature is undone. Death follows.

And that’s just the first four trumpet blasts!

Each promise, as it unfolds, seems worse and worse for the world—and still worse is coming.

But, if that frightens you, please know:

You won’t be there.

(I mean, probably. I’m about to cut through generations of theological debate here. You may disagree. But this reading is, I believe, sound.)

Because…where is the believing church when all this happens?

Already around the throne! Rescued, raptured, and relieved. How else do we explain the great multitude suddenly appearing in the vision in Revelation 7?

Let that comfort you. Let it also spur you evangelistically, so that your family and friends and neighbors might be awakened to faith—and spared the worse and worse.

It will get worse. Just not for you.

— Tyler

From Revelation 7: Ultimate Reality

“After this I looked, and there was a vast multitude from every nation, tribe, people, and language, which no one could number, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were clothed in white robes with palm branches in their hands. And they cried out in a loud voice: ‘Salvation belongs to our God, who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!’” (vv. 9-10)

Sometimes we talk about the promises of heaven in pretty vague terms. Everything is bright and glowy, there’s some sort of cloudy whiteness, and the whole atmosphere is purely good—but there doesn’t seem to be much of a point. Heaven is just, like, light.

Allow the Revelation to bring the picture into focus.

Our ultimate reality isn’t vague. No, we cannot comprehend every biblical image we are given, but the Bible is not unclear! By the end of this Book we will get a sense of the place the Lord has planned for us: the new heaven and the new earth.

But, right here, we get a sense of our purpose once we’re there.

Imagine the multitude—all the saved from all the nations across all the generations—united. They are pure. Their tears have been wiped away. And they are one harmonic choir, gathered around the Lamb in the presence of their God, singing the song of salvation.

Our ultimate reality isn’t vague.

It is purposed.

And that purpose is worship: of Jesus, with all the redeemed of all time, in the light of His propitiation and mercy and grace.

This is the climactic and everlasting end of all our belief, evangelism, and mission. There’s nothing vague about it. We even know the words to the song!

— Tyler

From Revelation 6: Everyone Prays

“And they said to the mountains and to the rocks, ‘Fall on us and hide us from the face of the one seated on the throne and from the wrath of the Lamb, because the great day of their wrath has come! And who is able to stand?’” (vv. 16-17)

Here’s something I’ve never noticed before:

On that great and terrible day—the Sixth Seal day, the day the earth is rent by its Creator, who will judge—people will pray.

They will see the sky changed and the stars fall and the mountains moved…and they will pray.

But here’s what I find fascinating: For those who have worshiped creation, rather than their Creator, they will pray to the earth. They will still hope for a salvation of sorts: “Let a mountain fall on us, for that would be better than judgment from the Lamb, whom we have rejected!” But, even at the end, their faith will be misplaced.

It turns out, everyone prays. Everyone is ultimately in need of mercy. Everyone cries out for deliverance.

By grace, your prayers are pointed rightly. Let us pray, then, that many will be called by that same grace—before the day comes when they ask a mountain for crueler mercies.

— Tyler

From Revelation 5: Look!

“Then one of the elders said to me, ‘Do not weep. Look, the Lion from the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered so that he is able to open the scroll and its seven seals.’” (v. 5)

I have always found this to be one of the great comforts of the Revelation.

The man, when he despairs, is coached from heaven:

“Do not weep. Look!”

I don’t know how many times I’ve been caught despairing, how many times the state of the world and what I’ve sown in my life and the pain of sin-sick brokenness have left me weeping. I don’t know how many times, but I do know how easy it is to lower my eyes in sorrow, or to squeeze them shut in despair.

But the word comes from heaven still:

“Do not weep. Look!”

When you look, you will see Jesus, who has conquered. You will see Jesus, who is given. You will see Jesus, the Lamb who was slain as our guilt offering. You will see Jesus, who is worthy, and who has welcomed us into His presence. When you turn from weeping to looking, you will see the One who dries every tear—which means you will turn from weeping to worship!

If you are caught in despair—if your eyes are blinded by tears today—do not weep. Look! The Lamb is victorious…and He is calling you home.

— Tyler

From Revelation 4: Worth-ship

“Our Lord and God, you are worthy to receive glory and honor and power, because you have created all things, and by your will they exist and were created.” (v. 11)

To declare a thing “worthy” means you assign it worth. It’s a value statement. That which is worthy is worth something.

So…where does all of heaven assign value? What, in the eyes of the unseen realm, has worth?

The Lord, our God.

This is the cry of angels and elders and everything around God’s throne: “You are worthy!” Whatever it is that they can ascribe to Him—glory and honor and strength—is a testimony of His worth-ship. You can hear it in that very idea, can’t you? Heaven is entirely captivated in worship, because of Holy God’s ultimate worth.

Can the same be said of us here, now? Or do we keep giving too much value to less worthy things?

Since our day around that throne is still in an unknown future, may we learn to get worship right on earth, and may we begin to sing now what we will sing forever:

“You are worthy!”

— Tyler

From Revelation 3: The Reward

“I am coming soon. Hold on to what you have, so that no one takes your crown.” (v. 11)

Have you known someone who was running so well, in the faith—and threw it all away?

There is a bizarre and tragic tendency among believers. Honestly, it’s the long-con gambit of the enemy, who lies. What happens is this: We get too comfortable with the reality of sin—we get to rote with repentance—that we are effectively lulled to sleep. And, once lulled, we loosen our convictions.

We stop holding as precious what we have been given by grace.

I would urge you to reconsider what is promised. There is a crown in heaven for those who endure! Not only is holiness a worthy pursuit—because God is holy, and because He commands it—but it is also the road to heaven’s rewards.

So heed the caution of the Lord in Revelation:

Don’t give holiness up, and the crown with it.

— Tyler

From Revelation 2: Love and the Church

“But I have this against you: You have abandoned the love you had at first.” (v. 4)

Consider a profile of your church:

It is very likely doing quality religious work. It is very likely teaching well, giving generously, and perpetuating programs. It is very likely maintaining decency and order—even excellence.

Your church’s profile might check all of those boxes.

Here’s what’s frustrating:

It is possible to do all of that without love. More troublingly, the quality-organization mode effectively organizes away from love.

Ask the question: How much of what we do are we doing for the live of our neighbors? How much of it reveals a love for the nations? How does our effective church program welcome wanderers, lift up the needy, and share hope?

Or try it this way: Is there evidence that, for the love of Christ and to love as Christ, we are willing to deny ourselves?

Jesus, in Revelation, gives a sharp criticism to the ancient church—and the church for all time in all places. Don’t do quality religious work at the expense of love! Instead, expend yourselves religiously for the sale of love. The organization has to serve the mission. Love can’t be part of the program. It’s the heart of the program!

Let the word for that church be a word for your church, too, which means it is a word for you. Love!

— Tyler

From Revelation 1: The Blessing of the Word

“Blessed is the one who reads aloud the words of this prophecy, and blessed are those who hear the words of this prophecy and keep what is written in it, because the time is near.” (v. 3)

We don’t read the Bible aloud simply to fill in our worship gatherings. And we don’t read it devotionally just to check the box of “Good Christian Person.”

We read the Bible—corporately and personally—because it blesses us.

The voice of God said as much to John, in his revelation. I’ll paraphrase: “Read the Word aloud, and study it to obey it, because it blesses.” It’s not just a good thing to do. It is actually for our good!

This is why the Word should feature in worship. And it’s why the Word should drive your devotions. We have received this—whole truth, Good News, never passing away—as a gift. Our religion ought to reflect that.

This is especially important as we engage the Book of Revelation. We have to remember that this Book is intended to magnify Jesus and comfort His church, even as the coming eschaton burgeons with terribleness. We get to see Jesus—we get to hear of His warnings and His authority and His victory—all so we can live for Him now, in the days before the Day. The more you know Him and His promises, the surer your blessing proves.

So read the Word. Personally in devotion. Aloud in worship. Together around tables. And be blessed!

— Tyler

From Jude 1: Contend for the Faith

“Dear friends, although I was eager to write you about the salvation we share, I found it necessary to write, appealing to you to contend for the faith that was delivered to the saints once for all.” (v. 3)

There really is just one thing to do, in the face of the confusion and dilution and delusion of progressive religion:

Contend for the faith.

Thaddeus Judas writes into some bizarre controversies. People claiming Christian identities are beginning to brook all kinds of suspect notions. They’re wandering into self-actualizing and sensual religious expressions.

And they’re leaving behind the truth of Christ, His sovereignty, and His mercy.

So Jude writes to contend for the faith. He writes, to point his readers back to what was given by Christ through the apostles. He writes, to root us in the Word, before we are uprooted by the flesh.

This faith was delivered once for all. It has been promised, unfolded, and fulfilled. It is revealed to us in Scripture. And it is singularly focused on Jesus, for us, in our place—so that we will know life and not death.

Contend for that still! Proclaim it with clarity! Call sensual arguments what they are!

Then we will know, over against the proud waves of progressivism, the hope and the mercy of Jesus.

— Tyler

From 3 John 1: Coworkers

“Therefore, we ought to support such people so that we can be coworkers with the truth.” (v. 8)

Right now—right now!—there is an unlimited ceiling for missions support.

And we have good reason to channel our resources for the mission: With nearly three thousand people groups yet to be engaged with the Gospel, with hundreds of thousands dying daily without having heard the name of Jesus, and with willing workers standing ready to go (if only they were funded!), our monetary support could accomplish so much.

This is the reminder John gives the church in his late epistle. When we partner with mission strategies—and when we directly fund those who are sent—we become coworkers for the cause of Christ. Certainly this is about more than money, as our prayers and even our shorter-term missions adventures position us as coworkers, too. But there is an invitation and an expectation—specifically for the church—that its mission collaboration will emphasize generous funding for those sent to the nations.

And it is joy! You get to partner with them, in Christ, for the sake of the truth—and that truth is setting wanderers free when they hear it. So give! Your coworkers are counting on you.

— Tyler

From 2 John 1: Will Be

“Grace, mercy, and peace will be with us from God the Father and from Jesus Christ, the Son of the Father, in truth and love.” (v. 3)

You’re so used to hearing it that you, like I, flew right past it.

We read about “grace, mercy, and peace” being with us—so we relegate it to “epistolary greeting” status.

But did you catch the difference in this letter?

John prays that grace and mercy and peace—the gifts of God the Father and Jesus the Son—WILL BE with us. They are afforded in the past, and they are real now, but they also will be for us going forward!

Does your confidence increase, knowing that the same grace that saved you will also guard you tomorrow?

Does your shame fade, knowing that the mercy of forgiveness and the gift of Jesus’ atonement will meet you again in the morning?

Does your fear subside, knowing that the peace you have with Holy God—who is the only Judge—is settled forever?

Grace and mercy and peace—rooted in the truth of God’s Word, known in the love of Jesus—will be with us!

May that greeting give you hope.

— Tyler

From 1 John 5: Us Against the World

“Who is the one who conquers the world but the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God?” (v. 5)

Your problem isn’t just that the world is a mess.

Your problem is that that messy world keeps on looking like it’s winning.

People wander in darkness. Sin multiplies. Cultures and societies abandon Creation order. Politicians are figured as saviors. And you’re caught in the waves, tossed by illnesses and debts and doubts, struggling to see the shore.

That’s…a lot.

And, on all those battlegrounds, it’s easy to feel defeated.

But!

Don’t neglect the goodness of the Good News you’ve believed. Jesus, who has overcome the world, has rescued you. All of it passes away, but His Word remains. You, who have turned from sin and trusted Him, are made into more than a conqueror. You, by grace, are a victor—whose crown is in heaven, whose hopes are higher, and whose confidence cannot be shaken.

Your faith, which is Christ’s gift, wins in the world. Everything the world can throw at you comes to nothing. You are bound for victory in Him!

(Now go and live like it. Your neighbor needs the love of someone who can show them the way out of here.)

— Tyler

From 1 John 4: Vertical & Horizontal

“If anyone says, ‘I love God,’ and yet hates his brother or sister, he is a liar. For the person who does not love his brother or sister whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen.” (v. 20)

Our religion tends to be vertical.

We comprehend at least a little bit of what it means to love God. We worship Him. We sing. We pray, with gratitude. We read His Word and remember Him.

There is a general upward trajectory for the Christian, a vertical religion.

But, as John implores us, don’t neglect the horizontal!

Love of God has to translate to love of neighbor. His love doesn’t just satisfy us—it sends us! If we are genuinely captivated by the love of God in Christ, then it overflows, to brothers and sisters and wanderers alike. And, if it doesn’t, we are left to wonder what kind of love we were claiming in the first place.

Because He loves us, we are welcomers. Because He loves us, we are givers. Because He loves us, we are unifiers. Because He loves us, we are helpers. Because He loves us, we are truth-tellers and hope-givers. Because He loves us, we love them.

Get the vertical right in right worship—and get the horizontal right in love.

— Tyler

From 1 John 3: Your Money and Your Mouth

“Little children, let us not love in word or speech, but in action and in truth.” (v. 18)

You know the phrase, “Put your money where your mouth is”?

Believers should do that.

I mean that pretty literally: We can’t be all talk. Not when the needs around us are so vast, and not when we have (comparatively) so much. We ought to be the generous, the selfless, and the cheerful-giver people. Your money ought to be where your mouth is.

And not just your money.

Your hands and your feet should go there. Your energies should go there. Your time should go there. Whatever you have to give in the margins—because, yes, you do have to take care of your household first—is where ministry must happen. That means both creating and stewarding those spaces. It’s a matter of biblical obedience!

Far be it from us to be the people who don’t serve others, meet needs, and give generously. Let’s be the people who live up to the goodness of the true Gospel by doing Gospel good.

— Tyler

From 1 John 2: Not Everyone is With You

“They went out from us, but they did not belong to us; for if they had belonged to us, they would have remained with us. However, they went out so that it might be made clear that none of them belongs to us.” (v. 19)

This is one of the sadder realities of relating in the church:

Not everyone is truly with you.

Some will depart—not just your fellowship, but the fundaments of the faith itself. Some will share a season with you, but, when doctrine or politics or divisions come, they’ll choose self over mutual submission. When repentance and purity and holiness—when total adherence to the authoritative Word of God—is asserted, they retreat. They choose some version of religion that requires only what they are willing to give, they elevate their opinions to supremacy, and they criticize the body.

The fact that that happens isn’t what hurts. It’s the biblical revelation that they were never truly with you—never truly in Christ—that hurts.

There aren’t many comforts here. There are, however, callings. You are called to pray for them. You are called to forgive them, even if your grace goes unnoticed. You are called out of hatred and its darkness. And you are called to a continued commitment to truth, in the church, as the church.

My heart breaks for so many who have departed. Really, they are merely returning, for they weren’t ours to begin with. But don’t let heartbreak turn to bitterness—and don’t let it sway you from truth.

— Tyler

From 1 John 1: Gray Areas

“If we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.” (v. 7)

You live in a world that insists on what the Word does not.

Just consider the state of our storytelling: There are hardly any heroes anymore. Everyone is at least some kind of evil. There are no good guys and bad guys. It’s all gray.

Or consider our politics: I hate to break it to you, but no one running is actually on the side of the Light. We are literally being told to select the lesser of two evils. Forget Red and Blue—it’s all gray.

That’s what the world has to offer.

But the Word?

It gives us dark…and the Light. It confronts all the ways we try to live “dark” while claiming “light.” It calls sin by name, it reveals the purity of Holy God, and it rejects the idea of “keeping a foot in both worlds.” It’s binary. Nothing is grayed out.

The question is, Are you living like that? Are you walking in the Light? Have you prayed, repented, and received the gift of fellowship with Jesus?

Or…are you dabbling in the dark, hoping that gray-area religion will be good enough?

Choose the Light, my friends.

— Tyler

From John 21: Your Lane

“When Peter saw him, he said to Jesus, ‘Lord, what about him?’ ‘If I want him to remain until I come,’ Jesus answered, ‘what is that to you? As for you, follow me.’” (vv. 21-22)

Do you ever look at someone else’s Christian life and think, “Man, they’ve got it good!”

Their ministry is cooler. Their church is bigger. Their generosity is exemplary. Their family serves together. Invitations are answered and baptisms are happening and missions are launched.

They’ve got all that—plus they’re good looking!

What in the world should we make of our own Christian lives, in comparison?

Jesus gives us the corrective:

After hearing the stakes of his own life of faithfulness—namely, that it will end in a martyr’s death—Peter looks over his shoulder at John. He wonders, to Jesus, if John is in for the same. The undertone is this: “Maybe John will have it better.” So Peter asks if that’s so: “If I am to die…what about him?”

Jesus’ answer is simple: “Don’t worry about the other guy! You follow Me!”

What if the answer to all our comparisons (and all our dissatisfaction) is faithfulness, not fairness? What if keeping our eyes on the Lord is the key to keeping them off our brothers and sisters—or, more relevantly, what they have and what they do with it? What if following the Lord joyfully means staying in your lane?

Get your eyes off their lives, and get them on Jesus. “You follow Me!”

— Tyler