John's Story (17 page)

Ephesus,
A. D
. 95

The Roman soldiers who rousted the old man from his bed and hauled him to a local jail, while rough and ruthless, seemed almost apologetic. “Guess this ends your little gatherings,” one of them said. John was shoved into the back of a wood wagon and the door slammed and locked.

John had to smile. His arrest would only empower the church. While Polycarp would be unable to leave for a high post as long as John was detained, this might be the best thing that ever happened to the Ephesian body of believers. They would finally realize the seriousness of their cause. They would step up the work of copying and circulating John’s gospel.

When word reached Rome that keeping John locked up in Ephesus seemed only to spawn more house churches, he was shipped to Rome for final sentencing. When the boiling in oil failed and he was sentenced to Patmos, John worried he would never see or hear from his beloved brothers and sisters again. Few men sentenced to Patmos ever returned alive.

Old and feeble as he was, and as horrific as the trip from the capital had been, the first few days on the rocky isle found John so aglow from the miracle in Rome that he went about his backbreaking mining chores with gusto. Other prisoners needled him, badgering him to perform supernatural feats. The guards made him the target of their darkest vehemence, whipping and beating him for the slightest offense, ostensibly to make an example of him.

And while John reeled from the blows to the point of delirium and wondered, as did the others, why he had been spared the pain of the oil, not to mention death, and yet felt every sting of this torment, he continued to pray for grace. Once, when he had been beaten to where tears streamed, a guard bellowed, “Do you think we like this assignment any more than you do?”

John had replied quietly, “I can only imagine how hard this place must be for you.”

That guard never touched him again.

Eventually the work—the breaking of rock virtually every waking hour to reveal marble—so wore on the old man that he could barely move. And yet he never complained. Every day had begun with the prayer his Lord had taught him and his giving of himself to God for His use. What that use was, John did not know. He saw the softening of the one guard and sensed perhaps the same in one or two others. And fellow prisoners started to give him a wide berth, eventually tiring of making him the object of their venom—or worse, their sport.

A
FTER SEVERAL MONTHS,
John resigned himself to the notion that God had allowed him to be sent to Patmos to die. Surely that was what the emperor had had in mind. Why Domitian thought physical labor would kill a man whom boiling oil could not harm, John had no idea. But killing him slowly it certainly was. He began to look forward to heaven.

John tried to keep track of the days of the week, and occasionally a guard would confirm that he was right. But eventually even the seemingly compassionate ones tired of his incessant worry over what day it was. He was the only inmate who cared when Sunday fell. Certainly no quarter was given to anyone’s religious bent. Jewish prisoners were forced to work the entire Sabbath. And John, who soon determined he was the only Christ follower on Patmos—Domitian had taken great delight in parading the others before crowds in the Colosseum before their horrible deaths—had to play out any Lord’s Day worship only in his mind.

It amused him to see the response of his fellow prisoners and the guards when he hummed the simple melodies of worship that had spread through the Asian churches under his charge. He prayed aloud, even smiled at times. Often he would simply softly recite a Psalm or a passage from the Pentateuch. He could even bring to mind the great theological treatises contained in letters to the churches from his martyred friend, the missionary Paul. Anyone within earshot seemed astounded at how much John remembered.

But then came the Lord’s Day morning when the clanging of the guards’ swords on the stone walls of the prisoners’ barracks had a new effect on John. Normally he had to force himself to recite the daily prayer in the manner Jesus had taught him, and he had to fight off a terrible black cloud of despair to face another day in the mining caves. Yet this day he seemed to spring to his feet, his head full of ideas, warnings that must be communicated to the churches that had been under his care.

John knew this was of God. He wolfed down the meager breakfast slopped into his bowl, and he and the others tramped out to be allotted the tools for their merciless work. But all the while he toiled, God seemed to fill his mind with more exhortations to the churches, each with specifics that matched what he knew of the people. John had the feeling that every word was from the Lord Himself. The more the words came to him, the more desperate he became to record them.

Prisoners were not fed again until the end of the day, when they could barely move, but the evening meal seemed their only reward, the one thing to look forward to. It had larger portions than breakfast did, and while it consisted primarily of stale lentils shipped from Rome and old bread delivered from the Asian mainland—supplemented every other day by cast-off fish too small to market—everyone devoured every bite.

Every day, usually after the noon hour, a prisoner or two would drop from exhaustion or thirst, and that was the guards’ signal to call the water break. Each prisoner was granted a generous measure of water and enough time to consume it while sitting briefly. That was when John, his mind swirling with messages from God, whispered the offer of his evening’s ration of bread to a man he’d seen writing letters, in exchange for ink and an overused quill.

“They won’t send your letters, you know,” the man said. “Mine are merely stored for when I ever get off this godforsaken island.”

“Oh, it is anything but godforsaken, sir,” John said. “As long as God’s children are here, He is here.”

“He is
here?
You’re a fool.”

“Perhaps.”

“I suppose you’ll need papyrus too,” the other prisoner said. “I had to bribe the guard for that.”

“I’m afraid I need much,” John said.

“That’ll cost you your water.”

Jesus had talked of being the Living Water. He would have to suffice. John pushed his cup to the man, who drank it fast while careful not to waste a drop. “Tonight,” the man said.

John soon regretted giving up his water. Within minutes the men were forced back to work, John sent alone deep into a cave. Many a prisoner had been caught napping when assigned alone, but John was known to be trustworthy. As he worked, the messages to the churches seemed complete and of a piece in his mind. He bent to hammer at a huge rock. A cramp developed behind his thigh, and as he rose to relieve it, he felt lightheaded. He reached to steady himself and then turned and stared, having heard behind him a loud voice, as of a trumpet, saying, “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last,” and, “What you see, write in a book and send it to the seven churches which are in Asia: to Ephesus, to Smyrna, to Pergamos, to Thyatira, to Sardis, to Philadelphia, and to Laodicea.”

It was Jesus! It had been so long since John had seen Him that he turned to see where the voice was coming from and saw seven golden lampstands, and in the midst of them One like the Son of Man, clothed with a garment down to the feet and girded about the chest with a golden band. His head and hair were white like wool, as white as snow, and His eyes like a flame of fire; His feet were like fine brass, as if refined in a furnace, and His voice as the sound of many waters; He had in His right hand seven stars, out of His mouth went a sharp two-edged sword, and His countenance was like the sun shining in its strength.

John fell at His feet as dead, and Jesus laid His right hand on him, saying, “Do not be afraid; I am the First and the Last. I am He who lives, and was dead, and behold, I am alive forevermore. Amen. And I have the keys of Hades and of Death. Write the things which you have seen, and the things which are, and the things which will take place after this.

“The mystery of the seven stars which you saw in My right hand, and the seven golden lampstands: the seven stars are the angels of the seven churches, and the seven lampstands which you saw are the seven churches.”

John was overwhelmed and remained in the Spirit as he was shown all the wonders of heaven and of the future. Hours later he awakened in the barracks, where a guard told him, “When we found you we believed you dead and prepared a coffin to slide you into the sea. But still you breathed and your heart beat.”

John sat up. “I am as alive as I have ever been.”

“Then you will work as usual tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

“Can you make it to dinner?”

“I am famished.”

John did not have to search for the prisoner to whom he had promised his loaf. “The quill and ink and papyrus are in your bed,” the man said, grabbing the bread, and he was gone before John could thank him. As soon as John had eaten, he felt rejuvenated and rushed to his mat to find the writing tools. In the dim, flickering light of an oil-fueled torch, he sat scribbling all night, knowing he would pay for it the next day with fatigue. John wrote on and on through the night, feverishly recording everything the Lord had shown him that day.

The Revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave Him to show His servants—things which must shortly take place. And He sent and signified it by His angel to His servant John, who bore witness to the word of God, and to the testimony of Jesus Christ, to all things that he saw.

Blessed is he who reads and those who hear the words of this prophecy, and keep those things which are written in it; for the time is near.

John, to the seven churches which are in Asia: Grace to you and peace from Him who is and who was and who is to come, and from the seven Spirits who are before His throne, and from Jesus Christ, the faithful witness, the firstborn from the dead, and the ruler over the kings of the earth. To Him who loved us and washed us from our sins in His own blood, and has made us kings and priests to His God and Father, to Him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.

Behold, He is coming with clouds, and every eye will see Him, even they who pierced Him. And all the tribes of the earth will mourn because of Him. Even so, Amen.

“I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End,” says the Lord, “who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty.”

I, John, both your brother and companion in the tribulation and kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ, was on the island that is called Patmos for the word of God and for the testimony of

Jesus Christ. I was in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day, and…

Following page after page of prophecies about Christ’s return in the clouds and seven years of horrifying tribulation before his final glorious appearing on earth, John finished by documenting what God’s angel had told him of heaven.

…There shall be no night there: They need no lamp nor light of the sun, for the Lord God gives them light. And they shall reign forever and ever.

Then he said to me, “These words are faithful and true.” And the Lord God of the holy prophets sent His angel to show His servants the things which must shortly take place.

“Behold, I am coming quickly! Blessed is he who keeps the words of the prophecy of this book.”

Now I, John, saw and heard these things. And when I heard and saw, I fell down to worship before the feet of the angel who showed me these things.

Then he said to me, “See that you do not do that. For I am your fellow servant, and of your brethren the prophets, and of those who keep the words of this book. Worship God.”

And he said to me, “Do not seal the words of the prophecy of this book, for the time is at hand. He who is unjust, let him be unjust still; he who is filthy, let him be filthy still; he who is righteous, let him be righteous still; he who is holy, let him be holy still.”

“And behold, I am coming quickly, and My reward is with Me, to give to every one according to his work. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End, the First and the Last.”

Blessed are those who do His commandments, that they may have the right to the tree of life, and may enter through the gates into the city. But outside are dogs and sorcerers and sexually immoral and murderers and idolaters, and whoever loves and practices a lie.

“I, Jesus, have sent My angel to testify to you these things in the churches. I am the Root and the Offspring of David, the Bright and Morning Star.”

And the Spirit and the bride say, “Come!” And let him who hears say, “Come!” And let him who thirsts come. Whoever desires, let him take the water of life freely. For I testify to everyone who hears the words of the prophecy of this book: If anyone adds to these things, God will add to him the plagues that are written in this book; and if anyone takes away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God shall take away his part from the

Book of Life, from the holy city, and from the things which are written in this book.

He who testifies to these things says, “Surely I am coming quickly.” Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus!

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen.

John finished just before dawn and rolled onto his mat on his back. He needed to try to recoup his energy after his collapse and his sleepless night, but he was so full of the images and prophecies he could barely remain prostrate, let alone close his eyes. Soon would come the clang of sword against rock, the cursing of his fellow prisoners, and the start of another relentless day. He had become convinced that enough days like that—even if he got his rest—would kill him. And yet the instructions from the Lord were clear. He was to send to the churches the message that had been entrusted to him. No one could do that for him. If the guards would not even send the personal letters of a prisoner to the supply ship, there was no way John could trust them to safeguard a message for Asia from the living God.