Every once in a while, Scripture hands you a line that rearranges the furniture in your mind. My Sunday School class has been studying Revelation for the last 8 weeks, and it’s been really interesting. It’s not a book I spend much time with, beyond breezing through it whilst checking off the boxes to read the Bible in a year. I avoid it otherwise. I’ve allowed people who are really into eschatology to ruin it. They turn Revelation into some kind of puzzle that you need an advanced degree in crackpottery to properly decode. It’s repellant, but also sad, to see obsession with End Times prophecy hasn’t just taken them off the missionary field, but has made them stumbling blocks for others.

So, I’ve kept my distance. And I know I’m not alone. Revelation is one of those books lots of good Christian people avoid lest they get sucked in and turn into a weirdo.

But walking through it inductively with a group of people who genuinely want to hear God speak through His word has been a gift. We agreed from the beginning that we weren’t aiming to walk away with a shared opinion about the End of Days. Most of us admitted that if we had an opinion at all, it was probably shaped more by pop culture than Scripture because we don’t hang out in Revelation. (Surely I’ve said it before: I love my church.)

And Revelation made good on its promise:

“Blessed is he who reads and those who hear the words of the prophecy…”  Revelation 1:3

It didn’t just interest me. It changed me.

The Line That Rewired My Mind

The moment everything shifted was this:

“The testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy.”  Revelation 19:10

Once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.

It was as if the entire prophetic tradition suddenly snapped into focus. Every oracle, every dream, every symbolic act, every promise of judgment or restoration — all of it seemed to share a single gravitational pull. Even the prophecies that feel deeply rooted in ancient politics or agricultural blessing or local judgment began to look like they were part of one long sightline aimed at Christ.

I imagined God standing at the climax of human history and looking back toward the beginning, grabbing a handful of cosmic breadcrumbs and tossing them along the timeline. Are these events building up to an ultimate end? Or are they echoing out from it?

Once that question formed, everything rearranged.

Prophecy as a Telescope

I have understood Biblical prophecy often works like a telescope with multiple lenses. You see one mountain peak close by - a near-term fulfillment - but behind it, aligned in the same sightline, is a higher, more distant peak. The prophets describe both at once because God is weaving history toward a single climactic horizon: the person and work of Jesus. 

This is why some prophecies feel “too big” for their immediate context. They aren’t exhausted by the near-term event. They’re shadows cast by something larger. But since I had not spent time in Revelation and given much thought to the Second Coming, my own view was limited. I felt we should be kind to our first century brothers who were convinced that the Messiah was to come like a warrior and destroy governments and set up His new kingdom. They weren’t wrong. He does that, just not when they thought.

But I had missed the way literally every prophecy is rippling out from Christ glorified - the fullness of who Christ is.

Daniel

In one of my character studies these last few weeks, Daniel came up as the next name on my list. I found it quite difficult, actually. Daniel is not a 3-dimensional person in the Bible. He has no emotional or psychological arc. We hear nothing of his inner monologue and see no expression on his face. Daniel (as well as Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego) were absolutely real people. But they are the cosmic breadcrumbs. They were formed in their mother’s wombs to serve as this archetype. They were literally made to be a beacon in history to demonstrate what it means to be in the world and not of it.

But that’s not all. Daniel is riddled with dreams, prophecy, and foreshadowing. The verse in Revelation finally clicked into place when Nebuchadnezzar was called “king of kings.” This is obviously not only about Nebuchadnezzar. 

The testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy. 

I re-read all of Daniel and then I read it again. Nebuchadnezzar’s authority is real, but it’s also patterned. He is:

• a ruler over nations
• given dominion by God
• the head of a multi-kingdom statue
• eventually shattered by a stone not cut by human hands

That last detail is the giveaway. Nebuchadnezzar’s kingship is a silhouette of Christ’s cosmic kingship. His rise and fall teach Israel what the true King will look like — and what He will overthrow. Babylon is not simply used as an example. Babylon was literally created to be the example.

Once I saw that, I started seeing the same pattern everywhere.

Joseph’s Dreams

The question that followed was natural: Do Joseph’s dreams work the same way? Are they also pointing to Christ?

If it’s all rippling out from the end, Joseph would be in one of those outer rings. Joseph’s entire life is a prophetic preview of Jesus:

• beloved son
• betrayed by brothers
• sold for silver
• falsely accused
• descends into “death”
• rises to exaltation
• becomes the savior of nations
• forgives those who wronged him
• provides bread for the world

So when Joseph dreams, or interprets dreams, those events naturally carry Christ-shaped meaning. In Joseph’s own dreams, his family bows, which has near-term application as he rises in stature in Pharaoh’s kingdom. But it also points to the exalted Son before whom all creation bows. Joseph’s dream is too large for Joseph alone. It is the first sketch of the Son lifted up. 

In Pharaoh’s dreams he sees seven years of plenty and seven years of famine- events that literally happen but that ultimately point to salvation through the exalted mediator. Joseph becomes the one who provides bread for the world. Christ becomes the Bread of Life. Joseph is exalted to Pharaoh’s right hand. Christ is exalted to the Father’s right hand. Joseph saves both Gentiles and his own family. Christ does the same on an eternal scale.

Pharaoh’s dreams are not messianic predictions, but they are prophetic patterns - early rehearsals of the gospel. Look, this is not groundbreaking stuff. I think it is commonly understood that Jospeh is a picture of Christ. But I think what I am understanding differently now is a more complete picture of who Christ is- not just on the cross or ascending into the clouds, but on His white horse, claiming victory.

Texture Instead of Portrait

One of the surprises in re-reading prophecy is realizing how often Scripture gives you the texture of Christ’s kingdom rather than the portrait of Christ Himself. Some prophecies point directly to the Messiah - His suffering, His reign, His return. Those are easy to trace. They feel like bright constellations.

But some prophecies don’t work that way. They don’t describe a person but rather an atmosphere.

They show the feel of justice and the weight of righteousness. They talk about the taste of abundance and the silence after judgment. They show you the relief of restoration and the shape of peace.

These prophecies may seem less obviously about Christ because they aren’t about who He is - they’re about what it’s like when He reigns. They paint the world He brings.

Truth be told, I don’t really think about heaven much. I know it’s real and I know I’m going there, but I don’t fantasize about it. The descriptions of heaven in Scripture really puzzle me, actually. Like everything is made of gold and gems. That sounds really gaudy and cold, so I know I’m not imagining it right. I just don’t really think about it.

But, hills dripping with wine, fields bursting with grain, deserts blooming. These aren’t about vineyards or wheat. They’re about relief. They’re about fullness. They’re about the curse unwinding itself until creation breathes again.

The judgment on nations — Damascus, Edom, Nineveh. These aren’t about ancient borders. They’re about the way evil collapses under the weight of God’s holiness. They’re about the end of oppression. They’re about the world finally being safe.

The restoration prophecies — new hearts, new spirits, new covenant, new temple. These aren’t about architecture or geography. They’re about intimacy with God. They’re about clarity instead of confusion. They’re about worship without wandering.

These prophecies don’t sketch Christ’s face. They sketch His kingdom’s feel. The vibes. They tell you what it’s like when He is finally and fully in charge. These prophetic descriptions of the texture of life under Christ’s final victory is where I feel my heart ache with longing. I eagerly anticipate Christ’s return, and not just in the funny way I always hope Christ comes back on a Monday morning so I don’t have to go to meetings.

I am eager to take my place at the banquet table, gathered at the feast with people I love, in praise and thanksgiving, sharing joy and swapping stories. I can’t even fathom a world without pain and sin, but I know joy. I am overcome with gratitude that I get a shadow of this with my family. I am beyond blessed that I get a shadow of this with my church. This Christ-centered fellowship is not just my favorite thing but has a transcendent quality to it. I understand better now that it’s my spirit responding to the call coming from the very end of the earth. I will be there, Lord. I cannot wait! 

Maranatha - Our Lord Come!