Silence, Then Trumpets: Revelation 8:1-13

When he opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven for about half an hour.

Silence. The most startling detail in Revelation. Heaven—full of ceaseless praise, living creatures never stopping, millions singing—suddenly silent. For half an hour.

The silence of anticipation. The held breath before the storm. What comes next was so terrible that even heaven paused.

And I saw the seven angels who stand before God, and seven trumpets were given to them.

Seven angels. Seven trumpets. The scroll's seventh seal released not one event but seven more—the trumpet judgments.

Another angel, who had a golden censer, came and stood at the altar. He was given much incense to offer, with the prayers of all the saints, on the golden altar before the throne.

The golden censer. Much incense. The prayers of the saints—collected, fragrant, rising. The altar before the throne received the prayers.

The smoke of the incense, together with the prayers of the saints, went up before God from the angel's hand.

Smoke rising. Prayers ascending. Every cry of "How long?" now before God.

Then the angel took the censer, filled it with fire from the altar, and hurled it on the earth; and there came peals of thunder, rumblings, flashes of lightning and an earthquake.

The prayers answered—but not gently. Fire from the altar flung to earth. Thunder, lightning, earthquake. The prayers of the saints triggered judgment on their persecutors.

Then the seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared to sound them.

Preparation. The angels with trumpets, ready.

The first angel sounded his trumpet, and there came hail and fire mixed with blood, and it was hurled down on the earth. A third of the earth was burned up, a third of the trees were burned up, and all the green grass was burned up.

First trumpet. Hail and fire and blood—Egyptian plague echoes. A third of earth, trees, grass—burned. Vegetation devastated.

The second angel sounded his trumpet, and something like a huge mountain, all ablaze, was thrown into the sea. A third of the sea turned into blood, a third of the living creatures in the sea died, and a third of the ships were destroyed.

Second trumpet. A blazing mountain into the sea. A third to blood. A third of sea life dead. A third of ships destroyed. Commerce and ecology devastated.

The third angel sounded his trumpet, and a great star, blazing like a torch, fell from the sky on a third of the rivers and on the springs of water—the name of the star is Wormwood. A third of the waters turned bitter, and many people died from the waters that had become bitter.

Third trumpet. A falling star named Wormwood—bitterness. Fresh water poisoned. Many dead from bitter water. The source of life became source of death.

The fourth angel sounded his trumpet, and a third of the sun was struck, a third of the moon, and a third of the stars, so that a third of them turned dark. A third of the day was without light, and also a third of the night.

Fourth trumpet. Cosmic dimming. Sun, moon, stars—a third darkened. Day shortened. Night deepened. Light itself rationed.

As I watched, I heard an eagle that was flying in midair call out in a loud voice: Woe! Woe! Woe to the inhabitants of the earth, because of the trumpet blasts about to be sounded by the other three angels!

An eagle—or perhaps a vulture—crying warning. Woe, woe, woe. Three woes for three remaining trumpets. What had come was terrible. What was coming was worse.

Four trumpets had sounded. Earth was burning. Seas were bloody. Waters were bitter. Light was failing. And three woes waited.