Six Essentials for Understanding Revelation

Our church is currently preaching through the book of Revelation, which means I've been reading a bunch of books and commentaries trying to make sense of this wild, beautiful, challenging book. And while I'd encourage you to check out the individual sermons, I wanted to put down some key principles that have helped me understand Revelation better. These aren't meant to resolve every debate—but they might help you avoid some common pitfalls and see what John is actually doing in this extraordinary piece of Scripture.

1. The Lamb on the Throne Is the Controlling Metaphor

Everything in Revelation flows from chapter 5's vision of the slain Lamb who is worthy to open the scroll. This isn't just one image among many—it's the hermeneutical key to the entire book. The Lamb conquers through self-giving sacrifice, and this redefines what "conquest" and "victory" mean throughout Revelation.

This is why the sword coming from Jesus' mouth is the sword of his word, not an actual weapon. Revelation isn't endorsing imperial violence; it's making parody of it. When we see warfare imagery in Revelation, we need to read it through the lens of the Lamb's victory—which looked like crucifixion. The way of Jesus is others-oriented self-sacrifice, not coercive power. Miss this, and you'll misread the entire book as a divine endorsement of the very violence it's subverting.

2. The Structure Is Spiral, Not Chronological

One of the most common mistakes in reading Revelation is treating it as a linear timeline: A happens, then B happens, then C happens. But Revelation is structured more like a spiral or kaleidoscope, giving us multiple perspectives on the same realities.

This is why the woman in chapter 12 can simultaneously be Eve, Mary, Israel, and the church. It's why the battle between God's kingdom and the empire of Babylon/Rome recapitulates again and again: Eve and the serpent, Israel and her enemies, Mary fleeing to Egypt, the bride being persecuted. These aren't different events in sequence; they're the same spiritual conflict viewed from different angles across time. It's a collapsed chronology where the same battle happens over and over and over again.

Understanding this spiral structure keeps you from getting bogged down trying to map every symbol to a specific date or event. Revelation isn't giving us a roadmap; it's giving us a kaleidoscopic vision of the ongoing conflict between God's kingdom and the empires of this world.

3. Avoid the Two Ditches: "Only First Century" vs. "Only Future"

There are two interpretive ditches you can fall into. The first is the "it only has to do with the first century" ditch. The second is the "it only has to do with the future" ditch. Both are problems.

The book is relevant to John's readers precisely because it addresses their circumstances—real persecution, real pressure to participate in emperor worship, real questions about God's justice. But it's also in the canon of the New Testament because it remains relevant to every generation of readers.

The genius of Revelation is that it's both historically grounded and perpetually applicable. Rome was Babylon, and every oppressive empire since has been Babylon. The beast was Nero and Domitian, and the beast is every power that demands worship that belongs to God alone.

4. Embrace the "Now and Not Yet" Tension

Revelation doesn't let us choose between "it's all already here" and "it's all still future." We are waiting for the New Jerusalem, and we are intended to be in the New Jerusalem today. We are waiting for the fall of Babylon, and we are working towards its fall today.

The church is meant to be small, working model of the Kingdom of God. —N. T. Wright

You can look at history and see places where the New Jerusalem has broken into time and space—moments when justice rolls down like waters, when the last are made first, when the hungry are filled with good things. And you can see how every empire that has exalted itself eventually falls. And, thank God, every empire will continue to fall.

We live between the decisive victory and the final consummation of that victory. Revelation calls us to live faithfully in that gap.

5. Revelation Is the Climax of Scripture

I once went to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 with some friends. Another friend joined us at the last minute, sat down next to us as the trailers were starting to play, and asked, "So what do I need to know? I've never read or seen any Harry Potter before."

That's essentially what we're doing if we approach Revelation thinking we don't need to know anything about the Old Testament or the Gospels.

Revelation is the summing up, the climax, the pulling together of all the threads: Old Testament prophecy, Jesus's teachings, Paul's warnings and encouragements. It's a masterful piece of literature that both combines all the threads of the canon of Scripture and weaves them into something brand new and thoroughly Christocentric.

The mistake speculators make is trying to turn Revelation into a code book that you have to decode to get precise dates and measurements. But that's not the point. Rather, it's a literary masterpiece and achievement of pulling together all these threads from the Hebrew Bible and recapitulating them into something very Christocentric. Every image, every symbol, every allusion echoes earlier Scripture. Miss those connections, and you miss what John is actually saying.

6. It Addresses the Problem of Suffering Pastorally

For all the debates about interpretive methods and eschatological timelines, we can't forget that Revelation is fundamentally a pastoral letter to suffering churches. The book ultimately is dealing with the problem of pain in a very pastoral, practical way. It doesn't shy away from the problem of violence and disorder and chaos in God's creation, and it doesn't shy away from the paradox of God both being absent and not fixing things immediately, as well as the suffering Lamb being present and the seven spirits of God being amongst the churches.

Revelation is very comfortable with that mystery and paradox. Yes, pain is here, it sucks, it's awful—and also it will come to an end. God is absent and not fixing things—and also God is here and moving amongst his people to repair the world. Both things are true.

This pastoral heart of Revelation gets lost when we turn it into a speculative game of prophetic puzzle-solving. John wrote to real churches facing real persecution, offering them a vision that acknowledged their pain while promising God's ultimate victory. That's still what the church needs to hear.

Conclusion

These six principles won't resolve every debate about Revelation. Hardly. But they've helped me read this extraordinary book more faithfully—seeing the Lamb's victory, recognizing its literary artistry, holding its temporal tensions, grounding it in Scripture, and receiving its pastoral comfort.