The Light No Earthquake Could Topple

When Ptolemy II completed the Pharos of Alexandria around 280 BC, it was the tallest structure in the ancient world after the Great Pyramid. Rising some 350 feet above the harbor, its polished bronze mirrors reflected firelight so brilliantly that sailors reportedly spotted it from thirty miles at sea. For nearly sixteen centuries, the Pharos guided ships safely home through darkness and storm.

But even this wonder of the ancient world could not stand forever. A series of earthquakes shook it apart. By 1480, the last stones had been carted off to build a fortress. The greatest lighthouse humanity had ever raised was gone.

Every civilization builds its Pharos — some grand attempt to push back the darkness. We raise cathedral spires. We wire cities in neon. We fire searchlights into the sky. And still, every human light eventually sputters out.

This is what makes John's vision in Revelation 21 so breathtaking. He sees a city that needs no lighthouse, no lamp, no sun — because the glory of the Almighty fills every street, and the Lamb Himself is its lamp. The gates stand open always, for there is no night to guard against. A crystal river flows from the throne, and trees along its banks bear leaves for the healing of the nations.

The Pharos crumbled because no human structure can hold light forever. But the New Jerusalem shines with a radiance no earthquake can shake — the unmediated, eternal presence of God dwelling with His people at last.