Tag: apocalypse

The Anti-Apocalypse: How We Learn to Love Our Own Ruin

Brent Pollard

A Cancer Ward, a Streaming Service, and a Strange Suspicion

A previous biographical sketch on this site once noted, along with my work in the Lord’s vineyard, my fondness for anime. Perhaps the two should be mentioned together, as one helped carry me through a period that challenged the other. I came back to anime in 2010, in the middle of cancer treatment, when chemotherapy left me with long, slow afternoons that needed something to fill them. Sixteen years out from chemotherapy, anime has remained a faithful companion.

I mention this because the human mind is a connecting organ. So it was that, sitting alone with three quiet little anime, I began to suspect I was looking at an emblem of something the church has long known.

Three Cute Apocalypses

The first program followed two young women crossing a ruined Japan on an electric-converted Yamaha Serow. Mount Fuji smolders on the horizon, the sea has crept up over the cities, Tokyo lies underwater, and a clean little notch has been taken out of the moon. Across this wreckage, two adorable protagonists travel happily, retracing the journey an older sister once made on her motorcycle years before the unidentified apocalypse.

The second is Girls’ Last Tour: two girls crossing a dying planet. Cities exist in stacked layers. Resources are scarce; humanity is dwindling after a long war. The title gives away that there will be no happy ending. The protagonists’ sense of wonder is the only thing keeping the bleakness from swallowing the screen.

The third belongs to “School Live!” Cute girls, “School Living Club” activities, school uniforms, slice-of-life rhythms. Then the first episode ends, and the curtain pulls back, and the viewer learns the real reason these girls live at school: zombie apocalypse.

These three programs are not the problem. They are the picture. What they portray is something the deceiver has been doing to human souls since Eden.

The Tempter’s Real Target

Imagine, as in the Screwtape Letters, a senior devil instructing his apprentice in the fine art of ruining a human soul. If such a tempter were to leave behind a strategic manual, its first principle would not be dramatic sin. Dramatic sin wakes the Patient up. The senior devil prefers the unspectacular road: gradual, gentle, and with no warning markers.

What this means is that the tempter’s real target is not your behavior. It is your perception. He does not need you to commit specific acts; he needs you to lose the categorical sense that your condition is a calamity. Strip a soul of its capacity to recognize ruin as ruin, and you no longer need to drag it anywhere. It will arrange the wreckage into furniture and call the result home.

Paul names what is at stake: “the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelieving so that they might not see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ” (2 Corinthians 4.4). The issue is not what the world contains. It is what the soul can still see.

Renaming the Ruin

The deceiver’s first instrument is language. He works on words because once a thing has been renamed, it is more than half-tolerated. Cowardice becomes “tact.” Lust becomes “love.” Pride becomes “self-respect.” Sin becomes “struggle,” then “identity,” then “authenticity.” Confession becomes “vulnerability.” Repentance becomes “growth.” He does not need to convince you that virtue is wrong. He needs only to file virtue under a new name until you no longer recognize it.

This is the mechanism Isaiah indicts: “Woe to those who call evil good, and good evil” (Isaiah 5.20). And the relabeling rarely stops at vocabulary. It works its way down into the moral hierarchy itself. Slowly, what is trivial gets ranked as urgent, and what is eternal gets ranked as optional. Worship becomes inconvenient; entertainment, sacred. Sin gets dignified as “self-care”; sanctification gets dismissed as “repression.”

Peace, Peace—When There Is No Peace

Renaming is the front door of the deceiver’s craft. The back door is quieter and safer. It is the cultivation of false peace.

God has built into the soul a system of moral alarms—guilt, unease, the prick of conscience, the holy disquiet that drives a sinner to repentance. The tempter knows it. So his task is to disable the alarms one at a time without the Patient noticing. The Patient must feel “fine.” Not convicted, not hungry for righteousness, just settled. By the time the fire is well underway, no warning will sound.

Jeremiah saw this in his own day: “Peace, peace,” they say, “but there is no peace” (Jeremiah 6.14). That is the tempter’s perfected anesthesia. It is not the absence of trouble. It is the absence of the alarm that trouble would normally produce.

The writer of Hebrews calls the cumulative effect hardening: “encourage one another day after day… so that none of you will be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin” (Hebrews 3.13). Hardening is what gradualism produces and what false peace seals.

At Home in the Wreckage

Here is the move toward which all the deceiver’s other moves converge. The Patient is not merely to be made passive in the face of his ruin. He is to be made comfortable in it. He is to set up housekeeping in the wreckage, hang curtains, learn the routines, and at last feel possessive of his own corruption.

That is the picture the cute apocalypses I referenced offers in miniature. The wreckage stays exactly as wrecked as it ever was. What changes is the inhabitant who has learned, through gentle banter and pastel design and slice-of-life rhythm, to find the wreckage cozy.

But the deceiver’s program is not confined to a screen. He invites the addict to call his addiction “the way I unwind.” He invites the angry man to call his rage “passion.” He invites the husband who has stopped praying with his wife to call the silence “our season.” He invites the church that has stopped weeping over sin to call the dryness “maturity.” Each of these is a wreck with curtains hung in it.

The deceiver does not need to drag a soul to perdition against its will. He needs only to keep redecorating the surroundings until the soul no longer perceives the surroundings as ruin.

Apocalypse and Renewal

There is a word for what the tempter is preventing: apocalypse. In its biblical sense, it means unveiling. Biblical apocalypse is the genre in which moral perception is restored—the veil lifts, reality shows itself, the soul sees what it has been standing in.

The deceiver’s mode is the structural opposite: anti-apocalypse, the patient’s thickening of the veil. The wreckage stays real; only the alarm is removed. The room is still on fire; the man no longer smells smoke.

If perception is the battlefield, then the gospel’s counter-strategy is a battle for perception: “do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Romans 12.2). The renewing of the mind is the Lord’s apocalypse in miniature. It is the steady rolling back of the deceiver’s veil, until the soul once again sees ruin as ruin—and the cross of Christ as the only place where ruin is ever truly undone.

Awake, Sleeper

So the question this article finally puts to each of us is not what cute media is doing to our sense of evil. That is at most a downstream caution. The deeper question is the question every soul has to face, sooner or later, in the searching light of Scripture:

Where am I no longer alarmed, where alarm was once native? What sins do I now name with softer language than the Bible uses? What atmospheres have I grown so accustomed to that I have stopped asking whether they belong to a redeemed life? What have I learned to call peace that may, on examination, be the deceiver’s anesthetic? What corner of my life have I been quietly furnishing for years, never noticing that the walls were already on fire?

The summons is the same one Paul lifted from an old hymn of the church: “Awake, sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you” (Ephesians 5.14). Those words were not addressed to the world. They were addressed to the church.

May God, in His mercy, lift the veil. May He restore to us the sense of catastrophe where catastrophe is real, the sense of glory where glory is present, and the holy alarm by which a soul still knows when something has gone terribly wrong. And may He keep teaching us, day after day, to see the only One in whose face the light of glory shines—the Lord Jesus Christ, in whom the wreckage of this world is at last truly made new.

Revelation’s Resounding Relevance In A Changing World

Brent Pollard

Historically, I’ve seen the Book of Revelation as rooted in a bygone era, primarily relevant to the early Christians of the first and second centuries. Therefore, Revelation 2.10, which urged faithfulness to achieve eternal life, crystallized the central message for contemporary Christians. Earlier readings of Revelation painted it as a cryptic missive, but recent interactions, set against the backdrop of current news and social media, have reshaped my understanding of its relevance to our times. (And, no, I’m not referring to premillennial notions of the end times.)

Faith & Integrity:

Revelation emphasizes the importance of unwavering allegiance to one’s beliefs. Individuals today frequently navigate the turbulent waters of societal expectations and political correctness, just as early Christians did with the imposing orthodoxy of the Roman Empire. The letters to the seven churches can be read as a call to fortitude, warning against surrendering one’s values to the winds of societal change.

Furthermore, the church in Pergamum, which Jesus chastised for its flirtation with idolatrous teachings, serves as a stark warning against even seemingly minor compromises. Deviating from long-held Biblical teachings for modern ideologies can resemble the ancient seduction of the Imperial Cult.

Perseverance & Opposition:

Revelation encourages perseverance, especially when faced with persecution. Like their forefathers, modern Christians may face scorn or disdain for their steadfast adherence to biblical values. On the other hand, Revelation offers solace by promising rewards for unwavering faith.

Hope & Future:

In the grand narrative, Revelation emphasizes the transient nature of earthly regimes. The predicted demise of “Babylon” (Rome) is a powerful reminder of the transient nature of societal norms and structures. Current political correctness or societal mores are fleeting, particularly when viewed through eternity.

Revelation’s resounding theme is hope despite its occasionally bleak portrayals. Regardless of current challenges, the promise of the New Jerusalem and God’s ultimate triumph herald a brighter horizon.

Discernment & Judgment:

The rich tapestry of symbols and visions in Revelation invites discernment. This challenge reflects today’s environment, which is rife with competing narratives and information overload. The imperative is to cut through the noise and identify truths that align with biblical beliefs.

In conclusion, Revelation is not limited to the period in which John wrote it. It sends an enduring message, urging believers throughout the ages to remain steadfast in the face of external pressures and to cherish the eternal promise. This message emphasizes Revelation’s continuing relevance, encouraging our forefathers and current believers to consider its teachings.

For even more on the book of Revelation, we highly recommend Hiram Kemp’s study of Revelation at Lehman Avenue church of Christ (all archives are on our YouTube page and the class is a little over halfway done.

Perseverance And Faith:

Understanding Revelation’s Message for Then and Now

Brent Pollard

John wrote the Book of Revelation when the Roman Empire persecuted Christian communities. Emperor Domitian had exiled John to the island of Patmos. So, while in exile during Domitian’s reign, John wrote to encourage other persecuted Christians. Given the focus of the first three chapters on seven specific churches in Asia Minor (i.e., Turkey), as well as the emphasis on this being an urgent message (1.3; 22.10), we can conclude that the original audience of John’s apocalypse was these seven churches located in the heart of the imperial cult.

The imperial cult’s prominence in Asia Minor created significant tensions for Christians in Ephesus and Smyrna, two of the seven cities to which Jesus sent His message. Polycarp, a disciple of John, was martyred in 155 AD in his hometown of Smyrna. Domitian (81–96 AD) declared himself to be a god, adopting the title “Dominus et Deus” (Lord and God). Loyal Romans believed participating in cultic rites was a way to pledge allegiance to the emperor and Rome. We can quickly see how this caused problems for the burgeoning Christian community, which only referred to Jesus as their Lord and God.

The Christian community suffered socioeconomic consequences as a result of this refusal. Evidence shows that participation in the Imperial Cult was a prerequisite for engaging in certain types of business or trade in some parts and times of the Roman Empire. Members of trade guilds, which governed various kinds of commerce and industry, for example, might be expected to participate in the Imperial Cult as part of their membership.

Christians who refused to worship the emperor would have been economically marginalized. It’s no surprise that John compares imperial cult submission to having the “mark of the beast” (Revelation 13.16–18). The gematria system reveals the meaning of the number “666” to be “Nero Caeser.” As such, the beast was Rome, with Nero as the first prominent persecutor of Christians, responsible for the deaths of Peter and Paul, among others.

The calls for faithfulness and warnings against compromise in Jesus’ direct messages to the seven churches would have resonated in the context of the temptation to assimilate and abandon spiritual beliefs for worldly acceptance or prosperity. While the specific nature of persecution differed across time and emperors, the struggles referenced in Revelation reflect a consistent tension between the emergence of Christianity and the Roman imperial system.

Symbols like Babylon the Prostitute and the Beast represent the decadence and oppression of Rome, especially under despotic rulers who declared themselves gods and demanded worship. Revelation transitions from tribulation under oppressive powers to expressing hope in God’s ultimate triumph over evil. This message of persevering faith leading to redemption would have encouraged early Christian communities to face real-world hardships and persecution.

While modern forms of oppression differ, Revelation reminds believers that staying true to one’s values in adversity is critical. Its themes demonstrate that faith and integrity will triumph over darkness. Deliverance comes through steadfast devotion. And, in a world of growing groupthink and social credit systems, Christians in the twenty-first century may need this message of perseverance even in the face of socioeconomic isolation and persecution as a reminder not to bow the knee to anyone but Christ. 

Revelation, with its intricate tapestry of symbols, warnings, and prophecies, is a testament to the enduring human spirit in the face of overwhelming oppression. Its timeless message transcends its ancient origins, providing comfort and guidance to generations. As believers faced the might of the Roman Empire in the past, today’s challenges, while different, are no less demanding. Revelation reminds us that faith can move mountains in any age and that the light of truth, no matter how dimmed by adversity, will always find its way.

Unveiling Sheol

Brent Pollard

Unveiling Sheol: Exploring the Depths of the Old Testament’s Concept of the Afterlife

During my junior year at Faulkner University, I enrolled in Hebrew classes. Unfortunately, I had to miss a semester due to illness. Because of the rotational nature of the Biblical languages courses at Faulkner, I took Greek when I returned and only passed thanks to Dr. Carl Cheatham’s grace. Because the documents of the Christian faith are written in Koine Greek, knowing the language makes more sense. However, I’ve always been interested in archaeology and Old Testament history. I still wish I could have barely passed Hebrew instead.

Consequently, I always like to plumb the depths of Jewish scholarship, tempering it with my Christian worldview. The idea that the Greek Hadean realm influenced the Christian concept of the afterlife has always piqued my interest, even though I know it is incorrect. People will say the Old Testament presents no such ideas about the afterlife. Yet that is not true. There is one word that one encounters particularly within the poetry section of the Old Testament: Sheol. The King James Version calls it “the grave.” Unfortunately, the King James translators ruined the tapestry’s richness by rendering it generically.

Sometimes the context tells you that the realm of the dead being discussed is associated with the concept of destruction. This association makes it sound like Tartarus (translated “hell” in 2 Peter 2.4) in Hades . This possibility becomes apparent when you pair Abaddon with it, as in Proverbs 27.20.

“Sheol and Abaddon are never satisfied, Nor are the eyes of man ever satisfied.” (NASB95)

Proverbs 27 extols virtues such as humility, wise decision-making, healthy relationships, self-control, and diligent stewardship as keys to a fruitful life. In verse 20, Solomon compares this life and one where greed rules. Greed has the same appetite as Sheol and Abaddon. 

Indeed, such concepts denote a location, but they take on a personification akin to our true adversary, who roams the earth seeking whom he may devour (cf. 1 Peter 5.8). As a result, by the time one reaches the end of the New Testament, assuming that John’s Apocalypse was the last book written, he finds Abaddon and his Greek counterpart Apollyon as rulers of the abyss (Revelation 9.11).

I understand that Revelation is difficult for modern readers to comprehend fully, but it is simple to imagine this figure as the devil. It is not my intention to delve into the interpretation of Revelation here. To summarize, there is no need to read a future yet to-be-realized into this text as if there were some nebulous end times ahead of us. Because these concepts are associated with destruction, more than one commentator has pointed out that they could easily describe the actions of Christians’ persecutors that resulted in their deaths. And as the angel told John at the outset of his Revelation, these things would shortly occur (Revelation 1.2-3; 22.10). As a result, rather than a demonic figure or a fallen angel, the rulers of destruction could have been imperial Rome’s rulers. 

However, when Sheol appears alone, it refers to the concept of the realm of the dead. For example, when Joseph’s brothers convinced their father Jacob that a wild animal had killed him, Jacob tore his clothes and put on sackcloth. Jacob warned his family that his mourning would send him “down to Sheol” (Genesis 37.35 NASB95). Jacob uses a trip to Sheol to suggest his mourning will kill him.

Hebrew is a unique language because it lacks vowels. As a result, assigning vowel sounds is dependent on the diacritical marks Jesus referred to as “tittles” or “strokes” (Matthew 5.18). As a result, you have some pairings that can mean different things depending on where one places those strokes. In other words, changing the vowel sounds creates an entirely different word or meaning. Therefore, we can reduce Sheol to “shin-aleph-lamed.” In this case, the root is aleph-lamed,” which one uses as a negation word. As a result, Sheol would be a place of nothingness or belonging to nothingness.

This understanding does not refer to the atheistic belief that after death, one becomes like the dog Rover: dead all over. Instead, it demonstrates that current opportunities are no longer available. Consider Solomon’s words in Ecclesiastes 9.10:

“Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might; for there is no activity or planning or knowledge or wisdom in Sheol where you are going.” (NASB95)

That understanding fits well with what the writer of Hebrews says in Hebrews 9.27. We have a date with death, and then we will be judged. The implication is that there are no actions we can take after death to change our fate.

Returning to the concept of “shin-aleph-lamed,” the word means “to ask.” When the Israelites left Egypt, they were to ask their neighbors for gold and silver articles (Exodus 3.22). With this new dimension to Sheol, we get the idea of the earth reclaiming what God took away when he created man (cf. Genesis 2.7). It reminds us of the fleeting nature of life, that we are like vapors appearing only for a brief moment (James 4.14). As a result, as Moses stated in Psalm 90.12, we must learn to number our days. As Paul puts it, we must redeem our time (Ephesians 5.15–17).If there is an overarching theme to this brief discussion of Sheol, it is not to impress you with my research but to encourage you to go deeper in your study of God’s word. Simple tools such as Greek and Hebrew lexicons, Bible dictionaries, and reliable commentaries can help you extract far more value from the scriptures than a casual reading. And sometimes, a better understanding of even the most straightforward words can change your entire perspective on life and death. 

Are You “Prepping”?

Monday’s Column: Neal At The Cross

Neal Pollard

Some have called it the “doom boom.” Before Covid, Digital Media Solutions estimated that there were some 3.7 million Americans who classified themselves as “survivalists” (source). From food to water, from clothing to shelter, a growing number of people are stockpiling, hoarding, or whatever term is most relevant to their situation. Actions range from accumulating ammunition, gasoline, and can goods to building high-end luxury apocalypse shelters. Whoever the perceived enemy is, shadow governments, foreign nations, social revolutionaries, or some combination thereof, people want to be ready!  It helps them feel calm even as they have friends, neighbors, and family who seem to be doing nothing to prepare for such increasingly plausible scenarios.

Scripture does talk about the importance of preparation. True, the Bible talks about how the ant “prepares her food in the summer and gathers her provision in the harvest” (Prov. 6:8). But even greater emphasis is put on a different kind of preparation. God directs us in this readiness. 

Are you prepping for every good work (2 Tim. 2:21)? Paul tells us how that’s done in context. We must “avoid worldly and empty chatter, for it will lead to further ungodliness” (16). Paul gives as an example of this people who upset the faith of others by saying the resurrection had past. He also says to “flee from youthful lusts and pursue righteousness, faith, love, and peace” and “a pure heart” (22). Then, “refuse foolish and ignorant speculations, knowing that they produce quarrels” (23; “split hairs,” 14). An untamed tongue (Js. 3:2ff), unholy craving (1 Cor. 10:6), and undisciplined mind (Prov. 4:23) can really keep us from being prepared to do the good works God designed us to walk in (cf. Eph. 2:10)? The aim, according to Paul, is to be a vessel for honor, sanctified, useful to the Master” (21). Is what we do each day prepping us for that?

Are you prepping your mind for action (1 Pet. 1:13)? Peter writes this to a people facing persecution and spiritual adversity (6). In the first of a series of imperatives, Peter tells them to “prepare your minds for action” (literally, “gird the loins of your mind”). The word is only found in this verse, but “It is taken from the custom of the eastern nations who, when they had occasion to exert themselves (as in journeying, running, etc.), used to bind up their long–flowing garments by a girdle or belt about their hips” (Zodhiates, The complete word study dictionary, np). So, the idea is cinching up what’s loose. Peter says you prepare your mind for action by keeping sober in spirit. I find it interesting how often sober-mindedness is connected to preparing for the judgment (1 Th. 5:6,8; 2 Tim. 4:5; 1 Pet. 4:7; 5:8). Even in this passage, Peter follows this command up with the command, “fix your hope completely on the grace to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.” There’s the action now of living the faithful Christian life, even in the face of opposition. Then, there’s the action of fixing your hope on Christ’s coming. We prepare to live in the present while preparing for the end.

Are you prepping for the Lord (Lk. 1:17)? Luke tells us that John the Baptist was sent “to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.” We can read in the New Testament that he was success in helping some do that, while so many others thought he was crazy and still others so dangerous that they resisted him. Ultimately, a wicked man who already wanted to kill him but was afraid of the many who regarded John as a prophet, found occasion to take his life (Mat. 14:5ff). His mission ultimately succeeded (Luke 7:22-23). Of course, Jesus Himself is eventually killed, but that death was necessary to help prepare us for His second coming (Heb. 9:28). There is a song which admonishes us, “There’s a great day coming…when the saint and the sinner shall be parted right and left, are you ready for that day to come?” How tragic to be stockpiling for an armageddon but unprepared for the Judgment. 

These may seem like dire days full of foreboding. Whether economic collapse, social unrest, or political corruption, we may be concerned about civil or national trouble ahead. Yet, that is not what Scripture emphasizes. Scripture emphasizes how God wants His people preparing to do good, think right, and be ready for eternity. All our “stuff” will be burned up in the end (2 Pet. 3:10). Our souls never die, and we will be somewhere eternally (Mat. 25:46). Each day is about prepping for that! May we encourage each other to get ready and stay ready!