It was to meet this crisis that the book of Revelation was written. And this accounts for the poetical and visionary style adopted by the author. Strong language was needed; something that would quicken the imagination and revive the fainting hearts of those who were growing cold and indifferent. Dynamite was needed. No gentle utterance would suffice. The writer realizes the awful conflict that is about to ensue between the gentle Lamb and His humble followers on the one side, and the great dragon, Rome, and his vile cohorts on the other. Somehow, the Christians must be convinced that the Lamb will finally triumph over the beast, or all is lost. After the sweet, simple letters of admonition and praise to the Churches, in which he pictures Christ among the candlesticks, the task of reassuring the persecuted followers of Jesus must somehow be achieved. So he goes to his task as a fireman goes to the work of saving a building that is on fire. Ordinary means will utterly fail. He first looks to the heavens, and then to the most striking imagery of the Old Testament, and never refuses a striking figure from any source that promises to serve his purpose. He gathers from far and near anything that will startle and encourage. As the winds drive the clouds until their blackness terrifies, so he gives free rein to his own imagination while marshaling his material. He commands the heavenly trumpeters, and brings forth appalling horsemen riding in the heavens. He sees one-third of the sun, moon, and stars, smitten after the blast of a heavenly trumpet. He sees an angel open a pit from which belches forth smoke that darkens the whole heavens. Out of the smoke come forth locusts that look like horses prepared for war. They have golden crowns on their heads, and men's faces, and women's hair, and lion's teeth, and breastplates of iron. Their wings sound like chariots and many horses rushing to war. And they have scorpions' tails with stings, to sting the men that have not the seal of God on their foreheads. He assures the poor sufferers that sealed mysteries, and distresses, and woes await them; but that Christ shall be able to solve all mysteries, and that he will command all powers in heaven and earth to fight on their side until the old dragon, whose earthly embodiment is Rome, shall be cast into the sulphurous pit and sealed. Finally, in the most beautiful and poetical fashion he declares that the battle shall be won, the clash of arms and the blare of trumpets shall cease, heaven and earth shall be cleared of their fierce combatants, and in that happy and peaceful hour the reward of the faithful shall appear. Heaven shall descend on a new earth that is redeemed. The Lamb and His bride, the faithful Church, shall again be united. And this new heaven on earth shall be inexpressibly beautiful; the architecture shall be symmetrical, and richly adorned. The gates of the city shall be pearls, and the streets gold. The city shall not, as the old Jerusalem, be built of common stone; even the foundations shall be adorned with jasper, and sapphire, and chalcedony, and emerald, and sardonyx, and sardius, and chrysolite, and beryl, and topaz, and chrysoprase, the jacinth, and amethyst. There shall be a river, and trees bearing fruit for food and leaves for healing. All these things the writer assures them shall soon come to pass. In the great day of victory throngs of people shall be there, arrayed in white; all, both the living and the dead, who have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb, shall be present. They shall be invited to the marriage of the Lamb, and to the wonderful feast that will follow.
We are justified in believing that this poetical and highly imaginative portrayal of the conflict was very effective with the humble, illiterate, and sorely persecuted people who constituted the Christian Church at that time. They revived from their coldness, they turned their backs upon the insidious temptations and allurements of the heathen world, and went in armies to the martyr's death. Rome was conquered, but not in the way the author expected. Rome was conquered by being made Christian, at least nominally and politically. The histories that record the conflict between the Christians and Rome are not less blood-curdling than the book of Revelation. The conflict was frightful, only it was in terms of blood, and fire, and dungeon. If the ingenious and infernal methods of torture, invented by Rome, present a picture difficult to read, what must the reality have been to bear? We should never cease to thank God that these humble Christians were nerved for the conflict. The modern world owes these martyrs a debt of gratitude as high as the heavens and as deep as the seas. When we consider the people, the times, and the crisis, the book of Revelation was a means well suited to a noble end. Who can look upon such a scene, and witness such heroism, and read such desperate utterances rising out of the conflict as are recorded by the author of Revelation without wishing to be a better man, and a more loyal follower of the one who still stands among the candlesticks,—His Churches. Sabatier has wisely said, "Apocalypses do not reveal to us the secrets of the divine providence, but do reveal the optimistic believing nature of the soul."
During the recent war, many portions of our country were burnt over with the fanaticism that has sprung from a false and unhistorical interpretation of Revelation and other apocalyptic writings.
The following extract from Professor Porter's book, "Daniel and Revelation," is of special interest:
"The more theoretical or theological messages of the apocalypses it is evidently impossible for us to accept in any literal way as a message for our day. That which they claimed to do, namely, to unveil the heavenly world and the future age, they really did not do. We cannot accept their descriptions of heaven, of God's throne, or of the angels, their names and functions, as a revelation of hidden realities. They are at most figurative and imaginative representations or symbols of faith in God and a spiritual realm. We are interested in these things only, on the one side, for the imperishable faith and hope behind them, and on the other for their place in the history of human speculation and fancy.... Although we cannot receive their theoretical message, yet their practical message for their own time is a true message for all like times, and in a measure for all times alike. Religious faith in times of a dominating, aggressive, or insinuating worldliness needs to maintain itself by the assurance of the real dominion of the unseen world over the world of sense, and by the hope of some approaching manifestation of God, some open demonstration of the rule of justice and goodness. The apocalyptical temper is needed when religion is assailed and in danger; and in all times the religious life needs to maintain its purity and strength by some sort of protest against the world, some defiance of ruling ideals and customs, some faith in realities above those of sense, and in truths contrary to appearances. The greater apocalypses were inspired by a living faith in the ideal and an eager expectation of its coming into reality; and faith in ideals which the world contradicts is too rare and precious a thing to be despised because its form is strange."