A feast in the midst of the tribulation - is that possible?

Reflecting on John's vision from the Island of Patmos, it's natural to wonder if we're living in the End Times, especially amid today's global challenges like climate change, wars, political instability, and personal hardships.

Conspiracy theories about the number 666 and the "mark of the beast" are widespread. Theologians dedicate years to developing intricate theories about the "Rapture," authoring extensive volumes and even founding new denominations centered on the 144,000 individuals marked for protection.

Reflecting on my past, I realize that I also once viewed the impending "great tribulation" as a threat. Subconsciously, I endeavored to live a life that would qualify me for the rapture before this tribulation. The fear of not being among the chosen is a tactic employed by churches worldwide to maintain control over their congregants. Consequently, the Book of Revelation has been utilized as a tool for behavior modification, much like the concept of hell is used to influence conduct.

Despite prominent theologians like Martin Luther and John Calvin not interpreting John's prophetic writings as end-time eschatological events, many later theologians, especially Charismatics, adopted a "futurist" perspective, which is where I developed my previous understanding.

This week, I encountered someone so engrossed in the prophetic narrative that they refused to accept any payment but cash for their services, fearing the "mark of the Beast." Millions of Christians live in fear and are interpreting the current world scenario as proof of the impending return of Christ.

However, history shows that humanity has faced similar crises as the ones described in Revelation before. Periods marked by famine, plagues, wars, and natural disasters have often led people to believe the end was near. For instance, early Christians in the midst of the most horrible persecution, predicted the world would end on January 1, 500 AD, interpreting biblical texts to support this date. When that didn't happen, others thought it would occur in the year 1,000.

Can we interpret Revelation symbolic?

The Bible teaches that Jesus, the Lamb of God, was "slain before the foundation of the world." This phrase suggests that the crucifixion was part of God's redemptive plan from eternity, existing outside the constraints of linear time. If such a pivotal event transcends temporal sequences, it raises the question: Could John's Revelation also be interpreted beyond the conventional timeline that began with creation?

This perspective aligns with the "Idealist" approach, championed by theologians like Origen, Augustine of Hippo, William Hendriksen, and Anthony A. Hoekema. The Idealist interpretation views Revelation as a symbolic portrayal of the ongoing spiritual conflict throughout history, rather than a prediction of specific future events.

Within this framework, elements such as the Marriage Supper of the Lamb and the Great Tribulation are seen as representing continuous spiritual realities and struggles experienced by humanity across all ages.

By adopting this approach, we can find relevance in Revelation's messages for our personal spiritual journeys, recognizing that the themes of divine union and tribulation are not confined to a distant future but are present aspects of the human experience.

The parable of the ten virgins

According to Matthew, Jesus told several parables about a wedding feast. One of those was the parable of the ten virgins, where five wise ones had extra oil and were ready to meet the bridegroom, joining him in the wedding feast, while five unwise virgins, lacking extra oil, were left outside because they were unprepared when the bridegroom arrived unexpectedly.

The traditional interpretation often framed this as a matter of eternal destiny—being ready for heaven or being cast out. But I can’t help but wonder if this parable, too, carries a broader meaning, one that speaks to how we live our daily lives and our readiness to respond to the invitations of grace and love here and now.

The multitude coming from the Great Tribulation

In his Revelation, John describes "a great multitude of all nations, tribes, peoples, and tongues" standing before the Throne, having come out of the "great tribulation," their robes washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb (Rev. 7:9-14).

What intrigues me, is the timeline within Revelation. This scene appears early in the narrative, before John describes what many interpret as the end-time tribulation and this great multitude form part of those who are "sealed" before the apocalyptic events unfold. Could it be that John is offering a broader perspective, one that transcends linear time?

Perhaps he is showing us that the "great tribulation" encompasses the collective experiences of hardship faced by humanity throughout history, and that the promise of redemption through the Lamb applies to all who endure these trials not "loving their lives unto death".

Are the Marriage Supper and the Tribulation current spiritual experiences?

This allegorical interpretation of John's vision presents both the Marriage Supper of the Lamb and the Great Tribulation as current spiritual experiences. I believe we have a choice: to live in the joy of the Marriage Supper of the Lamb or in the turmoil of the Great Tribulation. It seems that both realities unfold continuously and have done so throughout history as part of the backdrop to God's purposes.

Consider the four horses of the Apocalypse—their missions of conquest, war, famine, and death have shaped humanity's experience across the ages. But, even in the midst of manifestations of the Great Tribulation like pandemics and wars and earth quakes—marked by leaders embodying the spirit of the anti-Christ, driven by self-centered, narcissistic exploitation—we can also find individuals and communities who have been "raptured" into Love and became the visible manifestation of the invisible attributes of Love in the midst of the most horrible circumstances.

The feast may be a beacon of light in the darkness of the tribulation.

It seems to me that the light of the Wedding Feast shines brightest in the heart of the darkness of the Great Tribulation. It is like a vast conservatory, where the heat and pressure from the outside create the perfect environment for vibrant, abundant growth within. The contrast between these two states of being is striking and only becomes more pronounced as the darkness in the world deepens.

What about the "Rapture"?

In this context, the "Rapture" may not signify an escape from the world but rather a transformation: a shift from being unprepared, lacking the necessary oil or light to welcome the Bridegroom, to participating in the joy of the wedding feast. Those who heed Jesus' call to "take up their cross daily" and submit to transformation through surrender may find themselves shielded from the inherent suffering of the Great Tribulation. They experience a supernatural peace and calm that envelops them in the midst of tragedy, enabling them to assist others who are struggling.

Entering and exiting the Marriage Supper.

In Jesus' parable of the virgins, the locked door at the feast is often seen as a stark metaphor for heaven and hell—those inside representing eternal salvation and those outside eternal separation. The traditional evangelical view frames the deciding factor as whether one has accepted Jesus, a binary perspective that can oversimplify the profound depth of the parable.

Yet, I wonder if this image reflects something more dynamic, something we experience as we grow in faith and transition toward becoming like children. At times, we lose our joy, gratitude, and childlike trust, becoming offended by God's purpose. In those moments, we step out of Love and into entitlement—leaving the Marriage Supper of the Lamb and entering the torment of self-centeredness and the fear of loss, a state that reflects the Great Tribulation.

Narcissism represents the outside.

As we witness the chaos of wars and rumors of wars, political strife, and deep divisions, we often find ourselves caught in the painful struggles of our own ego-driven battles. Consumed by the need to protect our lives and possessions, we drift far from the joy and freedom of the Feast. Our days are spent laboring to ensure survival for ourselves and our families, leaving little space to nurture the "extra oil" of love and selflessness that we so deeply need.

Once we choose to move away from our own ego-driven battles into expressions of unconditional love, we may find ourselves stepping into the joy and freedom of the Feast—though perhaps only for a time. Inevitably, when we choose entitlement and personal survival once more, we may find ourselves outside, looking in again. Yet, the invitation remains, always drawing us back to the Feast, urging us to choose love over fear, surrender over control.

The number 666 = being trapped in our humanity.

When we remain trapped in our narcissism, we find ourselves in the Tribulation—and we can embody that Tribulation for those around us and for the earth itself. In such moments, marked with the number of the Beast—666—we are bound to our humanity, enslaved by our ego-driven nature, unable to rise above it. Many prominent leaders throughout history and currently seem to have been caught up in this and act in opposition to the total sacrificial love represented by Jesus.

Unless you become like children ...

Those, on the other hand, who have been "converted and have become like children" in their humility and vulnerability gain entrance into the Dance. Their extra oil, stored up through trust and humility, lights their way. While they may at times step in and out of the Dance, their humility—often forged through suffering, like that of Job or the Prodigal Son—keeps the door to the Feast open. The moment they choose to return, surrendering pride and fear, they find themselves welcomed back.

Their willingness to turn back and trust ensures they are never far from the joy of the Feast, even in the midst of the worst circumstances. We have all met people like that and often stand in awe observing their peace, compassion, and love for life while it seems that hardship is their earthly lot.

They may just be part of the worshipping multitude John saw:

"I looked again. I saw a huge crowd, too huge to count. Everyone was there—all nations and tribes, all races and languages. And they were standing, dressed in white robes and waving palm branches, ... Just then one of the Elders addressed me: "Who are these dressed in white robes, and where did they come from?" Taken aback, I said, "O Sir, I have no idea—but you must know."

Then he told me, "These are those who come from the great tribulation, and they've washed their robes, scrubbed them clean in the blood of the Lamb. That's why they're standing before God's Throne. They serve him day and night in his Temple. The One on the Throne will pitch his tent there for them: no more hunger, no more thirst, no more scorching heat. The Lamb on the Throne will shepherd them, will lead them to spring waters of Life. And God will wipe every last tear from their eyes." (Rev 7:9-17)

My own experience is not that I have never cried, but that every last tear has always been wiped from my eyes. Every time I choose to resist entitlement, disappointment, and the temptation to save myself at all costs, I find the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, returning. I begin to think more of others than myself, and I experience peace, joy, compassion, forgiveness, and long-suffering.

I have experientially discovered the truth in what one of my spiritual teachers wrote: "Pain is the rent we pay to live this life, but suffering is optional."

I think I am discovering the marriage supper of the Lamb in the midst of the great tribulation.