Why Revelation Almost Didn’t Make It
The Book of Revelation occupies a unique and often unsettling place in the New Testament, and its eventual acceptance into the biblical canon was far from inevitable. From the second century through the early Middle Ages, Revelation was among the most disputed Christian writings. Its vivid imagery, violent symbolism, and enigmatic theology inspired devotion in some communities while provoking deep suspicion in others. Understanding why Revelation almost did not make it into the Bible reveals much about how early Christians evaluated scripture and about the theological anxieties of the early church.
One of the earliest challenges to Revelation concerned its authorship. The book identifies its author simply as John, writing from the island of Patmos. Some early Christians assumed this meant John the apostle, the son of Zebedee, whose authority would have strongly supported the book’s acceptance. Others, however, doubted this identification. The Greek style of Revelation differs sharply from the polished Greek of the Gospel of John and the Johannine letters. Revelation’s language is rough, sometimes ungrammatical, and saturated with Semitic patterns of thought. Because of these differences, influential theologians such as Dionysius of Alexandria in the third century argued that Revelation must have been written by a different John, perhaps a prophet known as John of Patmos. Once apostolic authorship was questioned, the book’s canonical status became much less secure.
A second major obstacle was Revelation’s content. No other New Testament book approaches its intensity of imagery or its apocalyptic violence. Beasts rise from the sea, stars fall from heaven, angels unleash plagues, and divine judgment devastates the earth. Many church leaders worried that such imagery invited misunderstanding or encouraged fear rather than faith. The book’s symbolism was difficult to interpret, and its lack of clear moral instruction made it seem less useful for teaching and pastoral guidance than the Gospels or the Pauline letters. Some communities feared that Revelation promoted a crude or overly literal vision of the end times that distracted believers from ethical living and spiritual growth.
These concerns were intensified by the way Revelation was used by certain groups. In the second century, apocalyptic movements such as Montanism embraced Revelation enthusiastically. Montanists emphasized new prophecy, imminent judgment, and ecstatic spiritual experience, often in ways the emerging institutional church regarded as extreme or destabilizing. Because Montanists appealed to Revelation to support their claims, some orthodox leaders reacted by distancing themselves from the book itself. Revelation began to appear dangerous not only because of its content, but also because of the theological movements it seemed to empower.
The issue of millennialism also played a significant role in Revelation’s contested status. Revelation chapter 20 describes a thousand year reign of Christ, a passage that many early Christians interpreted literally. This expectation of an earthly kingdom fueled hope among persecuted believers, but it also raised serious theological concerns. By the fourth century, influential theologians such as Origen and later Augustine favored more spiritual or allegorical interpretations of Christian hope. A literal millennium was increasingly seen as naive or even heretical. Because Revelation was the primary biblical source for millennial doctrine, skepticism about millennialism led to skepticism about the book itself.
Geographical differences within the early church further complicated matters. Revelation was widely accepted and read in the western church, especially in North Africa and Rome. Church fathers such as Tertullian and later Augustine affirmed its authority. In contrast, many eastern churches remained hesitant. In the Syriac tradition, Revelation was excluded from some early biblical lists. Even in the Greek speaking east, prominent figures such as Eusebius of Caesarea classified Revelation among the disputed books, noting that while some accepted it, many others rejected it. For centuries, Revelation was absent from official lectionaries in parts of the eastern church, meaning it was not read publicly in worship.
Despite these doubts, Revelation also had powerful advocates. Irenaeus of Lyons in the late second century strongly defended the book, affirming its apostolic origin and theological value. He argued that its visions revealed the ultimate triumph of God over evil and offered hope to believers suffering persecution. For communities facing hostility from Roman authorities, Revelation’s portrayal of faithful endurance and divine justice resonated deeply. Over time, this pastoral and theological usefulness helped counterbalance fears about its symbolism and misuse.
Revelation’s eventual acceptance was solidified through the gradual formation of the New Testament canon in the fourth century. As church councils and influential bishops sought consensus, they tended to favor books with long standing usage in worship and teaching across diverse regions. Although Revelation’s acceptance was uneven, its continuous use in significant parts of the church and its endorsement by respected theologians ultimately secured its place. By the time of Athanasius’s Easter Letter in 367, which listed the twenty seven books of the New Testament, Revelation was included, though not without lingering reservations in some quarters.
In the end, Revelation almost did not make it into the Bible because it challenged the early church on multiple fronts. Its authorship was uncertain, its imagery was extreme, its theology was easily misread, and its influence on controversial movements made many leaders wary. Yet these same features also gave Revelation its enduring power. It spoke to suffering communities, affirmed God’s sovereignty over history, and insisted that injustice and evil would not have the final word. Its survival in the canon reflects the early church’s willingness to preserve a text that resisted easy control, reminding later generations that Christian scripture includes not only orderly teaching and ethical instruction, but also prophetic imagination and uncompromising hope.