The apocalypse, it seems, is cultural and psychological rather than historical. One can only hope that this theory is right.
John of Patmos presents readers of Revelation with fantastical visions of what life could be, just as Dickens does to Scrooge.
Emptiness can alternatively mean too little or too much. It is sometimes unclear where emptiness is distinct from excess.
I want the kingdom of God to be civilized. If possible I'd like to be able to keep sleeping in my own bed.
Many Americans dismiss climate change reports as fear mongering. Michael Northcott sees the use of apocalyptic imagery differently.
In theaters now, Nicholas Cage is taking us to the beginning of the end of time. A time when passengers vanish mid-flight, cars lose their drivers, and those who aren’t raptured face a violent world and a monumental choice: follow the Antichrist toward destruction or follow the righteous and be saved from the world. It’s the end of the world as we know it, and no one’s feeling fine. Years ago, when the Left Behind series topped the bestseller lists, a friend and colleague of mine was on fire over the books.
Anton Wessels emphasizes points of convergence among the Abrahamic religions, even assimilating their scriptural perspectives into a single story. It's an audacious wager, and not without dangers.
Brian Blount mounts a sweeping plea for bold preaching about the God who invades and routes death. Resurrection, he argues, transforms all of us “living dead” into witnesses.