Fire and Smoke

I’ve taught the Book of Revelation many times in my decades of ministry, but never as realistically as the last time around.

We were in the famous “thousand year” verses in chapter 20. About 9 o’clock that Tuesday night, I was reading to my adult students the account of Satan’s rampage when he and his cohorts are unchained at the end of the thousand years. “They marched across the breadth of the earth and surrounded the camp of God’s people, the city he loves,” John wrote, “But fire came down from heaven and devoured them.”

Just as I intoned the Scripture about heavenly fire, the smell of burning wood wafted down from the air conditioner grates above our heads. “Does anybody else smell what I smell?” I asked. They did. A quick check verified that none of the neighbors’ houses was ablaze. By now the smoke smell was stronger, so we put Revelation on hold and got serious about seeking the smoke smell source. A quick peek into the church attic let us know we were close. It was filled with acrid smoke.

Three minutes later our church building was invaded by a small army of firemen in protective yellow coats with oxygen bottles strapped to their backs. Thus the study of Revelation ended that night. Memorably.

I don’t suppose I need to confess that not even with my most grandiose efforts could I have arranged for the bird’s nest in that light fixture to ignite on cue to provide special effects for a Bible lesson on fire and brimstone. But I can’t keep from wondering about us church folk, when the scent of a charred two-by-four galvanizes us to urgent action while the promise of eternal flames evokes hardly a yawn these days.

—Gene Shelburne