
A prophetic drama that is a brilliant new take on the book of Revelation. Gives readers fresh insight, peace of mind,and a great hope for the future.
A prophetic drama that is a brilliant new take on the book of Revelation. Gives readers fresh insight, peace of mind,and a great hope for the future.


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Overview
A prophetic drama that is a brilliant new take on the book of Revelation. Gives readers fresh insight, peace of mind,and a great hope for the future.
Product Details
ISBN-13: | 9781617951343 |
---|---|
Publisher: | Hachette Nashville |
Publication date: | 01/14/2013 |
Sold by: | Hachette Digital, Inc. |
Format: | eBook |
Pages: | 288 |
File size: | 580 KB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Time Has Come
How to Prepare Now for Epic Events Ahead
By Jim Bakker, Ken Abraham
WORTHY PUBLISHING
Copyright © 2012 Morningside ChurchAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-61795-134-3
CHAPTER 1
The Dawning
Sunday morning dawned unusually quiet on the rocky, sparsely populated island. Not that the burly Roman guards cared one way or the other. One day was the same as the next to them, another opportunity to badger and abuse the prisoners under their domination, as the overlords mercilessly extracted every bit of work possible from their wards.
The mineral mines and rock quarries were the only reason Rome cared about the isolated, barren turtle of terrain stuck out in the Aegean Sea. That and the fact the rugged island—thirty-five nautical miles from the tiny island of Miletus, the closest dry land, and approximately fifty-five miles from the major seaport at Ephesus on the southern coastline of Asia Minor—made for an ideal penal colony.
The deep and rough waters surrounding Patmos limited access to ferry boats and frigates. It was a virtually inescapable island where the forced labor crews had but two alternatives: work or die. The guards needed no weapons to corral and control the criminals in their charge, but they kept an iron boot on the throats of the prisoners. Few men banished to the dreaded isle ever left alive.
The grueling, arduous life on Patmos might drive young men insane, but for older men—such as John bar Zebedee who had lived for nearly a century—it was meant to be unbearable. Sometimes the torturous punishment perversely meted out on Patmos caused even conscience-seared, jaded soldiers to grimace.
John bar Zebedee was not dangerous. What was his crime? He hadn't killed anyone. He was no threat to anyone. He certainly was no thief. Even on this godforsaken rock, the old man gave away more of the foul, bug-infested food grudgingly dished up to prisoners than he ate himself.
So he'd written a record of a so-called Christ, a Messiah—Jesus, they called Him—a man the Romans had crucified half a century ago. John was convinced this criminal had risen from the dead and was still alive. Was that cause for him to be banished? Apparently, the emperor deemed the old man's public statements as seditious, even treasonous.
Since Domitian had come to the throne in AD 81, the emperor had become increasingly obsessed with power. Now almost fifteen years later, he referred to himself as a god and demanded worship from everyone in his domain. Anyone who refused to acknowledge Caesar as Lord was severely beaten, tortured, or banished to a work camp until he or she recanted or dropped dead.
John had refused to bow to the emperor, and he had steadfastly proclaimed absolute allegiance to only one Lord, the one to whom he had committed his life—this Jesus. In addition to his writings about the life of Christ, John's defiance of the emperor's egomaniacal edict had landed the aged apostle on the desolate rock known as Patmos. For nearly eighteen months, he had existed here on meager allotments of bread and brackish water. His simple linen and wool robes had long ago become a patchwork of rags that barely shielded his body from the scorching sun during the day or the fierce cold of the sea air at night.
Old John trudged over mounds of stone, lugging heavy loads of mineral rock. Accustomed to rigorous work, his strength rivaled that of men thirty years his junior. He was much stronger than he appeared, not simply because of good genes and good living, but because he seemed to draw on an inner reserve the other prisoners lacked. Once, though, he tripped, lost his footing, and fell onto some sharp-edged rocks, slicing open his leg. Pain rippled through his leg as blood coursed from the open wound.
"Come on, old man," a guard roared, unsheathing his sword and clanking it against a wagon filled with stones. "Get up! It's not time to rest yet." The sentinel roughly kicked John in the back, jolting the old man onto the sharp rocks again. More blood. John knew better than to remain on all fours. The guard's next kick would be to his head. The gray-haired elder stumbled to his feet, doubled over from the pain in his back and leg, but lurching forward, away from the guard and back toward the mine shaft where he had been excavating with the makeshift tools so generously provided by the Romans.
"May God forgive you," John said, his voice raspy, as he gasped for breath and swept a strand of long, matted hair away from his face.
Earlier, John might have responded much differently. Even the peace- loving Jesus had referred to John and his brother, James, as "Sons of Thunder," descriptive no doubt of their fiery dispositions. Over the years John's volatile side had mellowed, not with age, but with the knowledge that vengeance belonged to God. John refused to carry a grudge or to allow resentment toward the deviate emperor or his guards.
When Jesus was crucified in Jerusalem, even as He hung on the cross, He had asked John to care for His mother, Mary, and John had done so until she passed away. After Mary's burial, John began his own itinerant ministry, traveling from Jerusalem to various parts of Judea and as far away as Ephesus, telling the story of what he had experienced with Jesus.
By then the long-smoldering, latent revolutionary elements within Judea had ignited, the flames fanned by those obsessed with the delusion that the tiny province could throw off the heavy yoke of Rome, fomenting uprising after uprising against the occupiers. The zealous Jewish people became so odious to the emperor, he finally authorized the Roman general Titus to lay siege to Jerusalem until the Jews capitulated.
Titus spared no evil effort, leading his army to the city's walls during the height of Passover, the most sacred celebration in the Jewish religion. As hundreds of thousands of pilgrims clogged the city, Titus launched a vicious attack. The Jews responded by sequestering themselves behind the thick city walls. But within five months, in AD 70, Jerusalem's walls were breached and the city laid waste. On Mount Moriah, just inside the Eastern Gate, the Temple of God—rebuilt by the Jews after their return from exile in Babylon—was a mere shadow of the ornate beauty of Solomon's Temple before it, though nonetheless, a magnificent structure. As Titus's troops stormed the city, the temple was torn down stone by stone so each legionnaire would have a nugget of inlaid gold from the walls. The Romans slaughtered more than a million Jews, and a hundred thousand more were captured. Titus's troops crucified so many Jews during the campaign that the area around Jerusalem was left bereft of trees. Subsequent persecutions and dispersions of the Jews made moving northward an easy decision for John.
At first John traveled throughout Asia Minor in relative safety, headquartering his missionary efforts out of a small hillside house overlooking Ephesus. But then the persecutions spilled over onto the followers of Jesus during the reign of Nero, becoming more overt during the reign of horror spawned by Domitian. As each of Jesus' original disciples was martyred rather than renounce what he had seen, heard, and knew—that Jesus Christ was alive, that He was no longer entombed in Jerusalem, that His body had not been stolen, that He had risen from the dead and had appeared to them and to more than five hundred other people—John anticipated that he, too, faced a martyr's death.
Ironically, John was now something of a celebrity, albeit an unwitting one. He was the youngest of the Twelve, and he had outlived the others. As the last living eyewitness to so many secrets of Jesus' inner circle, John recounted incidents about the Lord's life, death, and resurrection to which he had been privy. There were always people who wanted to hear his version of the "good news." Recognizing that he was growing older and the personal witnesses were becoming fewer and fewer was motivation for John to write an account of what he knew about Jesus. But his primary reason for writing was, as he stated at the conclusion of his gospel, "that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that believing you may have life in His name." Consequently, John's Gospel was well received almost everywhere, that is, except Rome. There it had evoked the wrath of Domitian upon the aging apostle.
The Vision
As John toiled in a cave-like shaft on a Sunday morning, his mind drifted to the many times he had joined with fellow followers of the Way to worship on the Lord's day, the designation believers applied to Sunday as a weekly reminder of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. John had served the church in Ephesus for a number of years before his arrest, so sweet memories of men, women, and children of that church often flooded his thoughts. Sometimes, when he had been assigned to cart rock from one of Patmos's treacherous ridges, if the sky were clear, John could look across the Aegean and see the silhouette of the bustling seaport that had once been his home. He had also worshipped with the Way in Antioch, on the borders of Syria, where the believers were first called Christians, and he had visited a number of churches in Asia Minor. He had taught about Jesus the Christ in many fledgling churches in the lands north of Israel—at least until the day the soldiers seized him and sent him to Rome to stand trial.
Now, even in the midst of the awful circumstances on Patmos, the elderly saint kept his faith strong by recalling the words of Jesus as well as the Old Testament scriptures he had learned as a child. It was not uncommon for John to become immersed in the presence while he worked in the mines or the quarry. He sometimes slipped into a sublime awareness of God's majesty and was oblivious to all else around him. Without saying a word he was in the Spirit, in a state of praise and worship and exaltation of God that seemed to allow the Spirit to permeate his entire being. Despite the din of clanging picks and shovels and the obscene curses of the guards around him, John could be enveloped in the presence of God.
Thus he was on the Lord's Day when he heard a loud voice, crystal clear like the sound of a trumpet. Startled but not fearful, John understood the words, "Write in a book what you see, and send it to the seven churches: to Ephesus and to Smyrna and to Pergamum and to Thyatira and to Sardis and to Philadelphia and to Laodicea" (Revelation 1:11). John knew those churches. He had visited them, encouraging the believers in each congregation to hold fast to their faith, even in the face of Caesar's persecution and oppression.
More important, John recognized something familiar about the voice. He'd heard it a thousand times before, but never like this. It was His voice—the voice of Jesus!
John whirled to see the source, but to his surprise, he did not see Jesus. Instead, he saw seven golden lampstands. But wait! In the midst of the lampstands was a majestic figure like no human John had ever seen before. The figure was clothed in a garment down to his feet, the sort of robe a Jewish high priest might wear, with a golden belt of some kind around his chest. His head and hair looked like white wool, only brighter, like snow. His eyes were like fire. John dared not look at those eyes, yet he found it impossible to avoid them and not be attracted to them. The figure's penetrating eyes seemed to sear right through him, seeing his innermost being. The man's feet looked as though they were finely polished brass, as if refined in a furnace. But the voice sounded as powerful as a waterfall. The figure held in the right hand seven stars, and from his mouth was a two-edged sword. Yet his face was not contorted. Far from it. His countenance was radiant, like the sun on a bright day, shining in all its strength.
John's mind raced. His heart beat frantically. His mouth was suddenly dry. Yet for all of the figure's awesome majesty, John knew Him immediately. This was Jesus! Not the lowly Jesus whom John had known in Galilee, not the Jesus who was pummeled by Roman soldiers as He dragged His cross through the Jerusalem streets on His way to Golgotha, the place of the skull. This person was not like the close friend whom John had leaned against the last time he and the disciples had eaten together before the soldiers came that fateful night. He didn't look like the person who had appeared to the two believers on their way to Emmaus or the Jesus who had appeared to the disciples as they had hunkered down in fear three days after the crucifixion. No, this Jesus was regal in a sense John did not know was possible. Yet it was Jesus nonetheless.
As much as John loved Him, there was only one reaction that made any sense at this moment. Overwhelmed, somewhere between terror and awe, John fell at Jesus' feet as though he were a dead man.
John had anticipated the Lord's return for many years. Immediately after Jesus had ascended into heaven, John and the other followers expected Him to return within days, weeks, or months. As the years passed, they recognized that although Jesus had promised to come back for them and take them to the place He was preparing for them, they must have misunderstood the schedule. That did not dim their faith or deter His returning, however. Jesus had never lied to them, and everything He had ever predicted had come true, specifically and completely. John never doubted he would see Jesus again, but he never imagined he would meet Him like this!
John had often considered what it might be like to see Jesus again. He'd even wondered how he might greet Jesus on His return. Would he kiss His cheek in the traditional Jewish greeting? hug Him? shake His hand? Would he gush about his lost friend or inquire if now was the time for the fulfillment of all things? None of those gestures, heartfelt as they might be, seemed appropriate now.
Still lying prostrate, not certain that he was alive, much less conscious, John felt a hand on his shoulder. He raised his gaze to find Jesus standing next to him, His right hand on John.
"Do not be afraid," Jesus said to the aged apostle (v. 17).
As John stared up at Him in awe, the words somehow made sense. He felt his heart calm, his mind clear. Jesus said, "I am the first and the last, and the living One" (vv. 17, 18).
John gulped. Jesus was all that. In fact, He was more alive than John had ever seen Him. The old apostle dared not speak; he could only listen.
"I was dead," said Jesus (v. 18), as John tried to nod in understanding, recalling the crown of thorns on Jesus' head, the spear through His side, His body wrapped for burial and placed in the tomb offered by Joseph of Arimathea. There was no question that Jesus had been dead. John well knew that.
"Behold, I am alive forevermore," Jesus said, allowing John to scan His features again. "And I have the keys of death and of Hades" (v. 18).
Still in the Spirit, John's heart leaped nonetheless at the reminder that Jesus had conquered the hellish netherworld. Mesmerized by Jesus' voice and presence, John listened intently as He looked him in the eyes and said, "Write the things which you have seen, and the things which are, and the things which will take place after these things" (v. 19).
Whether Jesus noticed the look of amazement on John's face as he beheld Him standing among the seven lampstands, the old man couldn't be sure. But as if Jesus could read his mind, He explained, "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 are the seven churches" (v. 20).
It was obvious that Jesus did not expect a reply, so John remained silent as He dictated specific messages for the seven churches in Asia Minor. But there was more—much more.
Time seemed to stand still as John continued in the Spirit and Jesus opened his heart and mind to see amazing events in heaven as well as astounding and staggering wonders that were soon to happen on earth. It was as though sights and sounds joined to produce a theater in John's mind. But this was no three-act play. The images kept coming. Some scenes John saw and heard were difficult to comprehend, images of things for which he had no context, but they were obviously real. Visions of heaven overwhelmed him, filling his heart with unutterable praises and worship. Some scenes John saw were disconcerting: portions of the world experiencing pressure-packed times of floods, famines, diseases, wars, earthquakes, signs in the skies and in the seas. Yet the overriding message that Jesus continually impressed on him both surprised and reassured him. Simply put, the prevailing message was, "Do not fear."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Time Has Come by Jim Bakker, Ken Abraham. Copyright © 2012 Morningside Church. Excerpted by permission of WORTHY PUBLISHING.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Table of Contents
Contents
1 The Dawning,2 Don't Hit the Rocks!,
3 You Are Not in Darkness,
4 The Thirty-One Things,
5 Seven Secret Messages to Seven Churches,
6 Where the Rapture Is Not,
7 Game Changer,
8 Now Generation,
9 The Horsemen Are Riding Now,
10 The Day the Sun Goes Dark,
11 The Great Tribulation Begins,
12 The Calm Before the Storm,
13 Demonic Warfare,
14 A Great Mystery Solved,
15 The Rapture Chapter,
16 A Woman, Her Child, and the Dragon,
17 The Antichrist Rises,
18 We Win! We Really Do!,
19 The Beginning of the End,
20 The Harlot,
21 Gone in One Hour,
22 We're Going to a Wedding,
23 The Millennium at Last,
24 I'm Looking Forward to Heaven,
25 Even So, Lord Jesus, Come!,
Epilogue: A Final Word,
Notes,