There’s an old adage, “Believe nothing that you hear and only half of what you see.”  There’s more truth in that than meets the eye—or the ear.

Around the year 90 A.D. it looked like Satan had won.  Emperor worship was firmly established.  Christian churches were being decimated.  Pastors had to flee for their lives; many were imprisoned; some were put to death.  Families had their possessions confiscated.  Men lost the right to work to earn a living because they would not pledge their ultimate loyalty to the genius of the emperor.  “Jesus is Lord,” they would say.  “Caesar is Lord,” they would never say.  

Even the aged Apostle John was not exempt from Satan’s schemes.  Despite his faith and love for Jesus; despite the fact that he believed every word of Scripture—and wrote much of it; despite his complete confidence in God, John was not sheltered behind some miraculous “hedge of protection.”  He could not “name it and claim it.”  He could not “take authority” over his circumstances, “bind the devil” and “command the devil” to release him from his exile.

No, John, like you and I, lived in a sin-cursed world where Christians—like everybody else—experience hardship, disease, and death.  He was exiled by the Roman authorities to the Island of Patmos.  Despite his faith—he was not spared.  Despite his godly character—he lost his ministry to his beloved people in Ephesus and his contact with his own family and comrades.

So what does John do while in exile on an apparently god-forsaken little island in the Aegean Sea?  He had several options.

He could have looked out—across the sea to his beloved Ephesian church and the fellowship he had forfeited—and become depressed.

He could have looked around—at the desolate island and the rocky terrain and the cold, hard realities of his circumstances—and become angry.

He could have looked within—at his own heart and conscience—looking for some sin that would explain the discipline or punishment he might have imagined he was experiencing.

But that’s not what he did.  John looked up—and he tells us he was “in the spirit on the Lord’s Day” (Rev. 1:10). He was worshiping on a Sunday morning.  He didn’t stop trusting Jesus just because his circumstances were bleak.  Nothing could shake his faith in the Resurrected Christ.  He had touched Him; heard Him; loved Him (I John 1:1).  He could no more deny or doubt Him than he could doubt His own reality.  Jesus was alive.  God was still in control—regardless of what things looked like.  “The Lord God omnipotent is reigning.”

Hearing a voice behind him (Rev. 1:10), John turned and saw the Royal Christ amidst the seven golden lampstands and with the seven stars in His hand.  The symbolism is explained for us.  Jesus, despite appearance, was still in the middle of His churches (the lampstands) and He was holding the pastors—including John—in His Sovereign hands!

According to appearances, Satan and unbelief were winning.  The church and Jesus were losing.  In reality, Jesus was in control.  History is His-story.  It’s our story, too!

Then John looked ahead—with the aid of the Lord Jesus he saw the future.  Though Satan was going to throw many into prison, and although there were then and would be in the future many martyrs, and although suffering and death would characterize the church for much of its existence—it only looks like Satan is in control.  He is not.  Jesus is on the throne.  Jesus is going to win this conflict.  The Kingdom is established and will be manifested for all to see.  Satan will be defeated and eternally incarcerated.

NOW—what does this have to do with you and me?  Very much.  You and I are going to suffer.  Sure, we’ll have much to laugh about.  We’ll experience joy and victories and see our children and grandchildren prosper and grow in the Lord.  We’ll see people come to know the Lord and be instrumental in their growth in Christ. There is much to rejoice about.

But we are going to suffer.  Sometimes we’ll suffer because of our faith.  Most often we’ll suffer in spite of our faith.  Because we live in a sin-cursed world and because the “mortal” has not yet put on “immortality,” we are going to get sick.  Our bodies are deteriorating.  No matter how many vitamins we take or how many sit-ups we do or how many scriptures we can quote—we are going to die of something if Jesus tarries.

That doesn’t mean we don’t have faith.  That doesn’t mean we are not people of character.  That doesn’t mean we don’t trust God.  Jesus did not promise deliverance from the “first death.”  He promised victory over the “second death.”  He said to the persecuted church of Smyrna, “Anyone who has an ear should listen to what the Spirit says to the churches. The victor will never be harmed by the second death.” (Rev 2:11 HCSB)  The second death is eternal death and separation from God.  The first death is physical death—and that can never separate us from God (Ro. 8:38).

You’re either in a crisis; you just got through with one; or you’re about to have one.  But Jesus is present in every storm; He is Lord of every crisis; and He’s Master of every moment of our personal histories.

You don’t have to see that with your eyes to believe it.  Things are not what they appear.  Even if you and I haven’t had John’s experience of hearing a voice and seeing the glorified Christ, we can take John’s word for it.  Jesus is in control.

“Alleluia: for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth” (Rev 19:6 KJV).

Alan Day, Senior Pastor