The island was silent. Wind swept over jagged rocks.
The island prison of Patmos was host to John, the last of the apostles.
He had been boiled alive, beaten, and banished to rot and die there. And even though he was the only person on that forsaken Island… He wasn’t alone.
“I was in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day,” John writes in Revelation 1. Then, the veil between the seen and unseen was torn, and John was caught up into the supernatural.
Behind him, a voice like a trumpet summoned the marrow of his bones to attention. He turned.
Seven golden lampstands burned in the void, and in their midst stood One… like the Son of Man. (Revelation 1:12)
This Jesus was different than the one who had eaten fish on the shores of Galilee with him long ago.
This Jesus was different.
His robe flowed to His feet.
His hair was white like wool.
His eyes were like flames.
His feet glowed like molten bronze refined in fire.
His voice was like the roar of many waters.
His right hand was filled with seven stars.
His mouth held a sword—not of steel, but of truth.
His face shone like the sun in its strength.
John collapsed in awe and horror. Wouldn’t you? Like Isaiah when he beheld the throne room of God, John was undone.
We say we want to see Jesus. We declare it in worship songs. But Scripture reminds us that the radiance of God is both lovely and terrifying.
John knew Jesus. He had eaten with Him, watched Him bleed. But even he was undone when he saw Christ in His full, radiant glory.
This was no tame Messiah, no soft-spoken Galilean with gentle hands. This was the risen King—flaming, holy, crowned with power and clothed in majesty.
And yet, what did Jesus do?
He touched him. He laid His right hand on John—the same hand that held the stars—and said, “Do not be afraid.”
Friend, maybe you feel like John did on Patmos. Forgotten. Wounded. Weary from the wait. But know this: Jesus walks among the lampstands.
Jesus declares to John, “I am the Alpha and the Omega, who is, and who was, and who is to come, the Almighty.” (Revelation 1:8)
Too many people read Revelation with the wrong lens.
They read it like Nicholas Cage’s movie “National Treasure,” where everything is a clue that leads to when the world is going to end.
But the primary message of Revelation is not one of cataclysm, demons, and the end of the world.
The primary focus of Revelation… is Christ.
He is the First and the Last.
He is the Living One, who was dead, but now lives forever.
He holds the keys of Death and Hades.
The stars are in His hand.
He is our strong, dependable, and holy King.
Our world is not hopeless.
We are not victims of darkness.
Our past does not define us.
Bow low as John did, but not out of sorrow, out of hope.
Jesus is alive. Still speaking. Still moving. Still writing stories of redemption.
