Glimpses of Heaven

The Scriptures offer the people of God not a speculative map of the heavens but a pastoral unveiling of the God of heaven. In two decisive moments, the Lord grants His Church heavenly sight through two apostolic vessels. The Apostle Paul speaks, with great reserve, of being “caught up to the third heaven” and “caught up into Paradise” where he “heard things that cannot be told, which man may not utter” (2 Corinthians 12:2–4, ESV). The Apostle John, by contrast, is commanded, “Come up here,” and is shown the throne room of God, the worship of the Lamb, the innumerable redeemed, the defeat of the beast, and the New Jerusalem in the new creation (Revelation 4–5; 7; 17; 21–22, ESV).

This asymmetry is neither accidental nor contradictory. Paul’s veiled experience teaches humility, limits curiosity, and secures his apostolic authority without fueling spiritual spectacle. John’s extensive apocalypse edifies the Church with durable images that instruct worship, kindle holiness, and sustain perseverance. This essay explores these “glimpses of heaven,” attending closely to key terms in the original Greek, and drawing theological implications that are grounded in the English Standard Version of the Bible.

Paul’s Reserve and the Language of Reticence

Paul writes, “I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven” (2 Corinthians 12:2, ESV). The phrase “caught up” renders the aorist passive participle ἁρπαγέντα (harpagenta) from ἁρπάζω (harpazō), which means to seize suddenly, to snatch or carry off. The passive voice underscores the divine initiative. Paul did not ascend through technique or merit, he was taken. This is consonant with the grace-shaped tenor of his apostolic life. He is a recipient, not an inventor, of revelation.

The destination is called “the third heaven” (τρίτου οὐρανοῦ, tritou ouranou). In Jewish and early Christian idiom, this expression distinguishes the realm of God’s special presence from the atmospheric heaven and the starry firmament. Paul immediately adds a second description that is interpretively parallel: “caught up into Paradise” (εἰς τὸν παράδεισον, eis ton paradeison) in verse 4. Παράδεισος (paradeisos) is a loanword, likely of Persian origin, that denotes a royal garden or park. In the Septuagint, it names the garden of Eden, and in Luke 23:43 it is the place where Jesus promises the repentant thief fellowship with Him. Paradise signals not an abstract ether but a royal, life-giving place of communion.

Paul twice admits epistemic limitation: “whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows” (2 Corinthians 12:2–3, ESV). Such repetition itself is a literary device of restraint. The phrase “I do not know” translates οὐκ οἶδα (ouk oida), a firm confession of ignorance rather than coy secrecy. Paul’s subject is God’s grace, not himself.

The content of the heavenly audition is described as ἄρρητα ῥήματα (arreta rēmata), “things that cannot be told” (2 Corinthians 12:4, ESV). Ἄρρητος (arrētos) means unspeakable or inexpressible; ῥῆμα (rhēma) refers to spoken words or utterances. Paul adds that it is “not lawful for a man to utter” (οὐκ ἐξὸν ἀνθρώπῳ λαλῆσαι, ouk exon anthrōpō lalesai). Ἐξὸν (exon) signals what is permitted or authorized. He thus gives two reasons for silence: the utterances are beyond human expression, and they are beyond divine authorization for public disclosure.

Why such reticence when later the Lord commissions John to describe his vision in lavish detail? The canonical rationale is that God distributes revelation for the sake of the Church’s edification according to His wisdom. Paul’s private hearing bolsters his fidelity and humility. John’s public unveiling furnishes the Church with an enduring liturgical and eschatological imagination. The point is not that Paul saw less, but that God assigned him to say less. This serves the good order of the Church and guards believers from unhealthy fixation on private experiences.

Revelation 4 and the Centrality of the Throne

John testifies, “After this I looked, and behold, a door standing open in heaven… ‘Come up here, and I will show you what must take place after this.’ At once I was in the Spirit, and behold, a throne stood in heaven, with one seated on the throne” (Revelation 4:1–2, ESV). The phrase “in the Spirit” renders ἐν Πνεύματι (en Pneumati) and signals not a spatial displacement alone but a prophetic empowerment and perception shaped by the Holy Spirit. The first visual anchor is the “throne” (θρόνος, thronos), a term that saturates Revelation 4–5 and frames the book’s politics of worship. Reality is not finally governed by beastly power but by the triune Lord.

Around the throne are “twenty-four elders” (εἴκοσι τέσσαρες πρεσβύτεροι, eikosi tessares presbyteroi) and “four living creatures” (τέσσαρα ζῷα, tessara zōa). The zōa combine cherubic and seraphic traits from Ezekiel 1 and Isaiah 6, manifesting the comprehensive praise of creation. Their unceasing cry, “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come” (Revelation 4:8, ESV), translates Ἅγιος, Ἅγιος, Ἅγιος, Κύριος ὁ Θεὸς ὁ Παντοκράτωρ (Hagios, Hagios, Hagios, Kyrios ho Theos ho Pantokrator). Ἅγιος (hagios) denotes the absolute otherness and moral purity of God. Παντοκράτωρ (Pantokratōr) identifies Him as Sovereign over all powers. The triadic “holy” is not an arithmetic proof of the Trinity, yet it harmonizes with Christian confession that the one God is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

The elders cast crowns and confess, “Worthy are you, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power” (Revelation 4:11, ESV). “Worthy” translates ἄξιος (axios), a term of fittingness. Worship is the recognition of God’s worth on account of who He is and what He has done: “for you created all things, and by your will they existed and were created” (ESV). Creation is not self-originating, and the Church’s doxology is therefore cosmically rational. Heaven’s liturgy is not an escape from earth’s goodness but the recognition of its source and end in God.

“Worthy Is the Lamb”

Revelation 5 unveils the drama of the scroll and the Lamb. No one can open the scroll of God’s purposes until the Lion of Judah appears as “a Lamb standing, as though it had been slain” (Revelation 5:6, ESV). “Lamb” here is ἀρνίον (arnion), a diminutive that carries both tenderness and sacrificial identity. “As though it had been slain” translates ὡς ἐσφαγμένον (hōs esphagmenon), from σφάζω (sphazō), to slaughter. The paradox is the heart of the Gospel: the victorious Lion conquers as the slain Lamb.

The new song clarifies the saving effect: “for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation” (Revelation 5:9, ESV). “Ransomed” renders ἠγόρασας (ēgorasas) from ἀγοράζω (agorazō), to purchase in the marketplace. The object of this ransom is a multinational, multilingual people. The fourfold formula “tribe and language and people and nation” translates φυλῆς καὶ γλώσσης καὶ λαοῦ καὶ ἔθνους (phylēs kai glōssēs kai laou kai ethnous). The sequence communicates a comprehensive gathering that reverses Babel and fulfills the promise to Abraham.

Further, the Lamb makes the redeemed “a kingdom and priests to our God” who “shall reign on the earth” (Revelation 5:10, ESV). The priestly-royal identity echoes Exodus 19:6 and anticipates Revelation 22:5. In Christ, the people of God regain a royal stewardship and priestly access that Adam forfeited. The grammar of heaven’s worship is therefore Christocentric and covenantal. It locates the Church’s vocation in the Lamb’s atonement and the Father’s purpose, enacted by the Spirit who gathers all peoples into one body.

The doxology that follows magnifies the Lamb’s sevenfold worth: “power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing” (Revelation 5:12, ESV). The heaping of terms is a rhetorical device of plenitude. Heaven’s language strains to match the Lamb’s sufficiency.

The Innumerable Multitude and the Shepherding Lamb

John sees “a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages” standing before the throne and the Lamb, “clothed in white robes” and holding “palm branches” (Revelation 7:9, ESV). “Clothed in white robes” translates περιβεβλημένοι στολὰς λευκάς (peribeblēmenoi stolās leukas). Λευκός (leukos) denotes radiant purity. Their cry, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb” (Revelation 7:10, ESV), grounds deliverance in God’s sovereignty and the Lamb’s mediation.

When asked about these white-robed worshipers, the elder explains, “They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb” (Revelation 7:14, ESV). “Washed” translates ἔπλυναν (eplunan) from πλύνω (plunō), to wash or cleanse. The paradox of garments made white by blood compresses the substitutionary and purifying effects of Christ’s death. It is not moral striving that whitened their robes; it is union with the Lamb’s atoning blood.

The promise that follows is a cascade of shepherding grace: “He who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence” (Revelation 7:15, ESV). “Shelter” renders σκηνώσει (skēnōsei) from σκηνόω (skēnoō), to pitch a tent or tabernacle. This verbal recalls the Old Testament tabernacle and the Gospel declaration that the Word “dwelt” among us (John 1:14). The Lamb will “shepherd” them (ποιμανεῖ, poimanei) and “guide” them to “springs of living water” (ὁδηγήσει, hodēgēsei; ζώντων ὑδάτων, zōntōn hydatōn), and “God will wipe away every tear from their eyes” (Revelation 7:17, ESV). The terms evoke Psalm 23, Isaiah’s consolation oracles, and the promise that suffering will not have the last word. In this scene, heaven’s geography is pastoral, its politics are liturgical, and its King is a Shepherd who is also a Lamb.

The Lamb’s Public Victory

Revelation 17 exposes the counterfeit splendor of Babylon and the beast’s parodic power. Here, in a sentence of concentrated hope, the Spirit gives a martial glimpse of the Lamb’s sovereignty: “They will make war on the Lamb, and the Lamb will conquer them, for he is Lord of lords and King of kings, and those with him are called and chosen and faithful” (Revelation 17:14, ESV). “Will conquer” renders νικήσει (nikēsei) from νικάω (nikaō), to conquer or overcome. The Lamb’s victory is not precarious. His titles, “Lord of lords and King of kings,” translate κύριος κυρίων καὶ βασιλεὺς βασιλέων (Kyrios kyriōn kai basileus basileōn). These superlative constructions assert unrivaled authority.

Those who accompany the Lamb bear a threefold designation: “called and chosen and faithful” (κλητοὶ καὶ ἐκλεκτοὶ καὶ πιστοί, klētoi kai eklektoi kai pistoi). The sequence names effectual vocation, electing grace, and persevering fidelity. The people of God participate in the Lamb’s triumph not through worldly might but through steadfast faithfulness wrought by divine calling. This glimpse of heaven is profoundly political in a holy sense. It reassures the Church that however monstrous the powers of the age appear, the Lamb’s reign cannot be overturned. The vision disenchants the Church of imperial pretensions and chaperones her loyalty to Jesus alone.

“Behold, I Am Making All Things New”

Revelation 21 ushers readers into the luminous heart of Christian hope: “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth” (Revelation 21:1, ESV). “New” here is καινός (kainos), which emphasizes newness in quality rather than mere recency. The new creation is not the annihilation of the old but its transfiguration and liberation from corruption. John beholds “the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God” (Revelation 21:2, ESV). The direction is downward, not upward. Heaven’s city descends to embrace earth renewed. The biblical hope is not evacuation but union, not escape but arrival.

A great voice interprets the symbol: “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people” (Revelation 21:3, ESV). “Dwelling place” renders σκηνή (skēnē), tabernacle. The verb “will dwell” is again σκηνώσει (skēnōsei). The God who tabernacled in Israel’s midst, and who tabernacled in the flesh of Jesus, will dwell with His people forever. The covenant formula “they will be his people” seals the nuptial union of God and His Church.

Revelation 21:4 articulates the eschatological consolation in verbs of reversal: “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more” (ESV). The terms “mourning,” “crying,” and “pain” are named as former things that have passed away. The enthroned One proclaims, “Behold, I am making all things new” (Revelation 21:5, ESV). The present participle “making” (ποιῶ, poiō) indicates ongoing divine action that will culminate in the eschaton yet has already begun in the Resurrection and Pentecost.

Several verses later, John records, “And I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb” (Revelation 21:22, ESV). “Temple” is ναός (naos), the inner sanctuary. The absence of a physical temple reveals the perfection of communion; mediated access gives way to immediate presence. The city’s radiance needs no sun or moon, “for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb” (Revelation 21:23, ESV). “Glory” translates δόξα (doxa). “Lamp” is λύχνος (lychnos). The imagery unites Christ’s priestly and royal offices with His prophetic function as the Light of the world. The nations walk by this light, and the kings of the earth bring their glory into it (Revelation 21:24). The gates never shut, because there is no night there, and nothing unclean enters (Revelation 21:25–27). These statements are not merely topographical but moral and doxological. Heaven is a society configured wholly by the presence of the Holy God.

The River, the Tree, and the Vision of God

The final chapter of Scripture reveals the city's interior. A river of the water of life, “bright as crystal,” flows from the throne of God and of the Lamb, “through the middle of the street of the city” (Revelation 22:1–2, ESV). The river recalls Eden and Ezekiel’s temple river, but it exceeds both in clarity and source. Life flows from the triune throne. On either side of the river, the tree of life (ξύλον ζωῆς, xylon zōēs) yields twelve kinds of fruit, “yielding its fruit each month.” Its leaves are “for the healing of the nations” (Revelation 22:2, ESV). “Healing” translates θεραπεία (therapeia), which can denote restoration to wholeness. The nations are not erased in the age to come; they are healed, transfigured, brought into a harmony that preserves difference without division.

The curse is no more, and God’s servants “will see his face” (Revelation 22:3–4, ESV). “Will see” renders ὄψονται (opsontai) from ὁράω (horaō), to see. This is the beatific vision in biblical form. To behold the face of God is to participate in the blessedness for which humanity was made. His name will be on their foreheads, signifying belonging and likeness. Night is abolished, and “they will reign forever and ever” (Revelation 22:5, ESV). The people of God finally exercise the wise and benevolent dominion originally given to Adam, now secure in union with the Lamb. The economy of heaven is worship that flowers into royal stewardship.

Why Paul’s Silence and John’s Proclamation Belong Together

Paul’s reticence and John’s expansiveness are complementary modes of one canon. Paul’s silence confronts an appetite for religious spectacle. It insists that not every spiritual experience is for public consumption. It teaches that revelation is not a commodity to be leveraged for personal influence. The syntax of 2 Corinthians 12 is pastoral self-effacement. Paul says “I know a man in Christ,” avoiding first-person emphasis at the very point where a lesser teacher would amplify his brand. The apostle boasts only in his weaknesses so that the power of Christ may rest upon him (2 Corinthians 12:9, ESV).

John’s proclamation, on the other hand, declares publicly the content necessary for the Church’s worship and perseverance. The divine command to write, and to send what he writes to the Churches, grounds the public character of his visions. The difference between ἄρρητα ῥήματα that Paul may not utter and the prophesied visions that John must utter is not a contradiction in God but a distribution of gifts for the one Gospel. The Church needs both the reminder that not all experiences should be narrated and the gift of fixed images that shape faithful imagination.

Theologically, Paul’s reserve trains humility and obedience. John’s song trains hope and holiness. Paul’s glimpse safeguards the interior life from exhibitionism. John’s glimpse supplies a catholic lexicon of praise. Both are acts of love. God guards Paul from conceit through a thorn, and guards the Church from curiosity through Paul’s quiet. God feeds the Church’s worship through John’s disclosure, and feeds her courage with the assurance of the Lamb’s victory.

Key Terms that Order Heaven’s Vision

It is fruitful to gather several of the crucial Greek terms and to see how they coordinate our understanding.

Ἁρπάζω, ἁρπαγέντα (harpazō, harpagenta, “caught up,” 2 Corinthians 12:2, 4). The grammar announces divine initiative and sovereign grace.

Παράδεισος (paradeisos, “Paradise,” 2 Corinthians 12:4). Heaven is a gardened presence, royal and life-giving, not a sterile abstraction.

Ἄρρητα ῥήματα, οὐκ ἐξὸν (arreta rēmata, ouk exon, “inexpressible words,” “not lawful,” 2 Corinthians 12:4). Not all knowledge is communicable or authorized. Revelation has moral boundaries.

Θρόνος (thronos, “throne,” Revelation 4–5). The throne is the center of heaven’s spatial and political theology. Worship is allegiance.

Ἅγιος, Παντοκράτωρ (hagios, Pantokratōr, “holy,” “Almighty,” Revelation 4:8). Heaven’s worship magnifies the divine otherness and sovereignty.

Ἀρνίον, ἐσφαγμένον (arnion, esphagmenon, “Lamb,” “slain,” Revelation 5:6). Victory through sacrificial death is the Christological paradox that orders all else.

Ἀγοράζω (agorazō, “ransomed,” Revelation 5:9). Redemption is costly purchase by blood, with covenantal and priestly effects.

Φυλή, γλῶσσα, λαός, ἔθνος (phylē, glōssa, laos, ethnos, Revelation 5:9; 7:9). The redeemed community is transnational and multilingual. The Gospel is Catholic in scope.

Σκηνόω, σκηνή (skēnoō, skēnē, “to dwell,” “dwelling place,” Revelation 7:15; 21:3). God’s intention is to dwell with His people. Heaven is communion.

Καινός (kainos, “new,” Revelation 21:1). Eschatological newness is qualitative renewal, not mere replacement.

Ναός (naos, “temple,” Revelation 21:22). The Lamb and the Almighty are the living temple. Mediation culminates in immediate presence.

Θεραπεία (therapeia, “healing,” Revelation 22:2). The nations are healed, suggesting a cosmic reconciliation that preserves redeemed particularity.

Ὄψονται τὸ πρόσωπον αὐτοῦ (opsontai to prosōpon autou, “they will see his face,” Revelation 22:4). The beatific vision is the summit of blessedness.

These terms are not ornaments but load-bearing beams in the architecture of hope. Together they teach that heaven is the reign of the Holy God, centered on the victorious Lamb, embracing a redeemed humanity from every people, conjoined with a renewed creation, ordered by worship, and suffused with direct communion.

How These Glimpses Train the Church

Worship as Heaven’s Native Language. Revelation 4–5 presents worship as the rational response to the Creator and Redeemer. The repeated “worthy” and the sevenfold doxology theologize adoration. The Church’s earthly liturgy is therefore a participation in heavenly worship. When congregations confess the holiness of God, sing the worth of the Lamb, and pray in the Spirit, they are practicing the language of their native country. The Lord’s Supper, in particular, is a foretaste of the marriage supper of the Lamb. The New Jerusalem’s lamp is the Lamb; the Gospel preached and enacted lights the Church’s path in a dark age.

Mission that Mirrors the Multitude. The fourfold formula “tribe, language, people, nation” requires that the Church’s mission be both global and local, attentive to languages and cultures, and confident in the Gospel’s translatability. Revelation’s multitude critiques ethnocentrism and consumer nationalism. The Church should expect the eschatological assembly to be polyphonic. Evangelism and discipleship in multiple languages are not optional aesthetic flourishes; they are eschatological inevitabilities to be anticipated now.

Holiness as the Shape of Hope. Heaven’s gates exclude the unclean, and the Lamb’s blood alone washes robes white. This grammatical pairing forbids both legalism and antinomianism. Holiness is not self-generated; it is blood-borne, yet it must be embodied since nothing unclean enters the city. Churches should therefore catechize believers into a moral pattern that fits the city to come, not because holiness earns entrance, but because holiness harmonizes with the presence of the Holy God.

Perseverance through Political Disillusionment. The Lamb conquers the beast. Revelation’s imagery instructs believers to resist idolatrous alliances with beastly powers. The Church’s political posture is to witness with courage, charity, and patience, not to baptize what is expedient. The designation “called and chosen and faithful” should chaperone disciples through seasons of cultural marginalization and persecution. The Lamb will conquer. The Church must be faithful.

Suffering Transfigured by Shepherding. The promise that the Lamb will shepherd and God will wipe every tear is not a sentimental flourish. It is a pastoral charter. Christians enduring loss, illness, or persecution should be taught to imagine their lives beneath the Shepherd’s staff and near the fountain of living waters. Pastoral care that quotes Revelation 7 is not escapist; it is realistic about the world’s tears and confident about God’s tenderness.

Creation Embraced as Future Home. The descent of the New Jerusalem corrects escapist tendencies. The Church should love the created world, steward its goods wisely, and refuse to equate spiritual maturity with disembodied indifference. Artistic labor, scientific inquiry, and just commerce can be pursued as anticipations of a world in which the glory of the nations will be brought into the city. The Church, therefore, cultivates patience and creativity, not cynicism.

Humility about Experiences and Confidence in Scripture. Paul’s silence places a theological curb on fascination with private revelations. The canon gives sufficient vision of heaven for faith and hope. Pastors and teachers should not build ministries upon unverifiable anecdotes of heavenly tours. The pattern is clear: when God grants private consolations, they are for strengthening humility and service. The public rule for all is the prophetic and apostolic Word.

The Beatific Vision as Practical Motivation. “They will see his face” is not an abstruse dogma reserved for specialists. It is the animating teleology of discipleship. Purity of heart is pursued because “we shall see him as he is” and “everyone who thus hopes in him purifies himself” (cf. 1 John 3:2–3, ESV). Revelation’s final promise should be preached and prayed until it informs the daily choices of believers.

Paul’s Vision and Its Legacy in His Life

Paul’s guarded self-reference in 2 Corinthians 12:1–6 occurs within a defense of his apostolic ministry. He is compelled to speak because false teachers are seducing the Corinthians with triumphalist rhetoric. Paul refuses that mode. He confesses visions and revelations but will “boast” only in weaknesses so that Christ’s power may be displayed. The paradox is sharpened when the Lord says to Paul, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9, ESV). The heavenly audition and the earthly thorn form one pedagogical unity. Paul is guarded from pride and kept close to the sufficiency of grace. That is the legacy of his glimpse of heaven. It propelled him through imprisonments, beatings, shipwrecks, and betrayals without granting him license to vaunt himself.

The Church inherits that legacy. A true glimpse of heaven deepens humility and increases patience. It does not inflate the self. It is spiritually significant that Paul waited fourteen years before mentioning the experience, and even then, he veiled himself in the third person. He was a steward, not a showman. Where the Corinthians craved bravado, Paul offered cruciformity. Where modern believers may crave spectacle, Paul offers a better way. He draws our attention away from the mechanics of his ascent to the sufficiency of Christ’s grace. In this, he conforms to the Lamb who conquered by being slain.

John’s Vision and Its Legacy in the Church

If Paul’s legacy is a pastoral curb against spiritual spectacle, John’s legacy is a positive script for worship and witness. The Churches that first received Revelation faced the seductions of imperial cults and the corrosive pressures of compromise. John’s visions enthroned God before their eyes and placed the Lamb at the center of their assemblies. The songs of Revelation 4–5 can and should inform the Church’s hymns and prayers. The scenes of Revelation 7 should shape the Church’s missional strategy and intercultural hospitality. The promises of Revelation 21–22 should guide Christian funerals and inform Christian ethics.

Moreover, the book teaches believers to read the present apocalyptically, that is, in the light of God’s unveiling of the real. Apocalyptic in Scripture is not a codebook for predicting calendars; it is a disclosure of what is ultimately true so that the Church can endure faithfully in what is penultimate and contested. John shows that behind the illusions of power stand the fragile idols of Babylon, and above them stands the throne of the Almighty and the Lamb who conquers. Heaven’s liturgy is not escapism; it is insurgent fidelity.

The Church as an Embassy of the Age to Come

The New Jerusalem descends, which means that the Church is called to be an embassy of that city now. In preaching the Gospel, celebrating the sacraments, discipling believers, welcoming the stranger, and resisting idolatry, the Church enacts the politics of the Lamb in the middle of the present age. Her life together is a sign of the river and the tree, a foretaste of healed nations, a practice run for seeing God’s face. This is not triumphalism; it is patient perseverance. The Church’s failures and sins should not silence her vocation; instead, repentance and renewal are themselves anticipations of the final cleansing when nothing unclean shall enter.

The phrase “they will reign forever and ever” should be handled with care. The Church does not seize power as the beast does; she reigns by washing robes in the Lamb’s blood, by bearing witness, by overcoming through faith, by worship that refuses idolatry, and by holiness that befits the city to come. Where the world is impressed by might, heaven is impressed by the Lamb’s wounds, and the Church must learn that grammar or she will speak with the beast’s accent.

Learning to See as Heaven Sees

Paul was caught up; John was called up. Paul heard what he could not lawfully speak; John wrote what the Churches must hear. Together, these glimpses teach the Church to live toward God with disciplined imagination, humble reserve about private consolations, and ardent confidence in public revelation.

Reading Revelation carefully, prayerfully, and Christocentrically is an act of discipleship. One should look for the throne in every chapter and remember who sits upon it. One should listen for the songs, since worship is heaven’s language and the Church’s breath. One should pay attention to the Lamb, since the Lion wins by being slain, and since the wounds that redeemed are also the wounds that reign. One should notice the nations, since the multitude is the horizon of mission, and the healing of the nations is the hope that forbids despair or prejudice. One should fix the heart upon the New Jerusalem, since the city descends and the business of our present labor is to make our neighborhoods consonant with that coming light.

Finally, one should remember that the vision ends in a Face. “They will see his face” (Revelation 22:4, ESV). That promise dignifies every act of faithfulness hidden from public view, every grief endured with trust, every prayer whispered in weakness, every hymn sung in a faltering voice. The pastoral thrust of the Bible’s glimpses of heaven is not to satisfy curiosity but to sanctify desire. God gives enough to anchor the heart and to direct the life. He does not cater to voyeurism. He prepares a Bride.

Therefore, let the Church worship with reverence and awe. Let the people of God learn again to say with the living creatures, “Holy, holy, holy,” and with the elders, “Worthy are you, our Lord and God,” and with the great multitude, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb” (Revelation 4:8, 4:11; 7:10, ESV). Let believers see the Lamb as slain and reigning, and let the hope of the New Jerusalem make patience plausible. Let the Gospel advance among all peoples until the fourfold formula becomes an audible reality in congregations that sing in many tongues as one body. And let the Spirit and the Bride continue to say, “Come.” For He who testifies to these things says, “Surely I am coming soon.” To which the Church replies, “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus” (Revelation 22:20, ESV).