The Day Of The Lord
Watch this blog on this week’s episode of The PRODCAST.
INTRODUCTION
Two weeks ago, we opened the book of Revelation and we asked a really important question: What are visions? And along with that: Why does God speak in symbols? Why does He communicate with His people from these strange, other worldly, apocalyptic images that both jostle us, and require so much energy and effort for us to understand?
And what we discovered last week is that biblical visions - far from being obtuse and esoteric kaleidoscopes of end times mayhem - are instead clear forms of communication from God to a people on the verge of salvation or disaster. You see, when God gives a vision in the Bible, He is not writing the ancient version of the Handmaids tale, He is instead convening a cosmic courtroom. He has the host of heaven assembled, He as judge is bringing forth the visionary evidence. He is summoning the Old Covenant witnesses to testify, by quoting the law, against a people who have broken their covenant with Him. And the vision acts as a kind of precursor to the judgment. It is a visionary enactment of what is about to be unleashed in the physical world.
In this way, Revelation is not an apocalyptic version of Mr. Potato head, where you can assemble the parts any old way you like. It is not a hermeneutical Delorean where you can punch in whatever aberrant views you have about Russia, Israel, and the mark of the beast, and then make the book travel perfectly into the world of the twenty-first century. No. It is a first century book, with a covenantal context, that is played out in the visionary courtroom of Yahweh’s wrath against His Old Covenant people, who violated the terms of that covenant, and are now primed to receive the curses of that covenant. Revelation begins like a courtroom where the gavel is getting ready to fall. Where the Judge is seated and ready to deliver the verdict. This is what we have seen so far in this first chapter of this most amazing book.
Now that we’ve seen it, we are ready to understand how the whole architecture of Revelation unfolds like a divine courtroom drama. In chapter 1, the majestic Judge, who is robed in glory and splendor, enters the heavenly courtroom to begin the proceedings. In chapters 2–3, the court is called to order. The plaintiffs, the aggrieved parties, the victims in the crimes, are summoned into the courtroom. And who are these plaintiffs? The seven churches of Turkey, all called to account for their fidelity in the most horrific circumstances they have ever faced. But also, cross examined in the areas where they had failed and were in need of repentance. After the victims took the stand, then, in chapters 4–20, the prosecution begins in earnest against the accused covenant criminals. Instead of merely listing out their crimes and trying them to see whether they are guilty, the courtroom drama proceeds immediately to sentencing. The indictments are laid bare. The rebellious parties—Jerusalem and her corrupt priesthood—are unmasked as the the law breakers, they are exposed as traders of the covenant with God’s. And then the trumpets begin to sound (A signal that God is bringing judgment). Then the seals are broken (a signal that the covenant curses, sealed up for that generation to which they belonged, were now about to be poured out). And then the court proceeds with solemn deliberation, and the Judge renders His righteous verdict in full—culminating in the righteous execution of the apostate Jews, which is poured out in full on them in Revelation 19-20. That is the lethal injection, public hanging, and firing squad moment. That is the electric chair when the body stops writhing and the smell of death finally fills the air. Those two chapters are the visionary telling of the death of the nation that turned its back on God!
But this trial does not end with destruction alone. After the execution is enacted, God, the righteous judge, turns to the church He had been addressing in Revelation 2-3, and He brings them into covenant blessings. In chapters 21–22, the Judge grants restitution to the faithful. He inaugurates a new covenantal order, a New Jerusalem, and promises permanent residence for His redeemed people in His glorified presence—where no appeal is needed, because no injustice remains. And it is there, in His presence, where they will live forever and ever.
All of this reveals the true setting of John’s vision. It is not a sci-fi preview of nuclear holocaust. It is not a tale of Christians vanishing before the willy bad stuff happens. It is a first-century courtroom scene, where God announces the imminent disaster befalling His rebellious people, and the declaration that repentance Jews and Gentiles will be made into one worldwide people of God! This is the story, that you and I have been endeavoring to understand, and to do that we need to do it bit by bit.
And this week, we continue by looking at verse 10, understanding what John means when he says:
“I was in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day.” (Revelation 1:10)
And that leads us to:
PART 1: INTRODUCING THE “LORD’S DAY”
Now, to modern ears, that phrase “The Lord’s Day” probably engenders tons of thoughts. Waking up on Sunday morning. Grabbing a coffee. Tying a tie, Riding with the family to church. Fellowship meals afterwards. And so on and so forth. But, John is almost assuredly not talking about the Christian Sabbath when he tells us that He was in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day. And while he most certainly could have received the vision on the day we call Sunday, while he was alone on the isle of Patmos, John’s point of using the phrase “The Lord’s Day” is much more specific, and altogether frightening, than what day of the week he received the message.
When John says he was “in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day,” he is using a very peculiar phrase—tē kuriakē hēmera. That phrase appears nowhere else in the entire New Testament. And it’s not the usual Greek expression for the Sabbath day, the day where people go to church and worship God. Let me say it this way, if John had wanted to tell us that he received the vision on the Sabbath, he had a totally different Greek phrase with which he could have done so. Instead, by using this particular Greek phrase, he is not really saying “The Lord’s Day” but more closely “the day that belongs to the Lord” or more commonly known as “The Day of The Lord,” which is a phrase loaded with Biblical meaning, especially if you know or have read the prophets.
Which we will get into shortly. But, for the moment, suffice it to say, the phrases: “The Lord’s Day” and “The Day of the Lord” in English, represent massively different realities. When we talk about “The Lord’s Day” we are thinking about worship and feasting with Christ. When we hear the phrase “The Day of the Lord” we should be thinking about excruciating wrath, covenant judgment, nations falling, blood running ankle deep in the streets, people shrieking in terror… Yeah, that is what John was talking about. When He says: “I was in the Spirit on the Lord’s day,” he was telling us that the Spirit was revealing to Him the absolute disaster, the fury commensurate with “The Day of the Lord,” which was imminently about to fall.
And, to be frank, John was not even the first one to talk about this. Look at what James says about it in his fifth chapter. It is horrifying, and so few have noticed it.
“Come now, you rich, weep and howl for your miseries which are coming upon you. Your riches have rotted and your garments have become moth-eaten.Your gold and your silver have rusted; and their rust will be a witness against you and will consume your flesh like fire. It is in the last days that you have stored up your treasure! Behold, the pay of the laborers who mowed your fields, and which has been withheld by you, cries out against you; and the outcry of those who did the harvesting has reached the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth. You have lived luxuriously on the earth and led a life of wanton pleasure; you have fattened your hearts in a day of slaughter. You have condemned and put to death the righteous man; He does not resist you. Therefore be patient, brethren, until the coming of the Lord. The farmer waits for the precious produce of the soil, being patient about it, until it gets the early and late rains. You too be patient; strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near. Do not complain, brethren, against one another, so that you yourselves may not be judged; behold, the Judge is standing right at the door. As an example, brethren, of suffering and patience, take the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord.” - James 5:1-10
When James wrote to Christians, suffering under the persecution of the Jews, he told them to wait patiently for the coming of the Lord is near. He told them that the Lord’s coming, this “Day of the Lord” would be so devastating, that the fattened sinful covenant breaking Jews, would be slaughtered like an animal in a ritualistic sacrifice, their blood would run like rubies down the streets, and it would be NEAR! Not 2000 years later. James was comforting real people, promising their vindication would be executed by the Great and Holy Judge. This is the same thing John is saying in Revelation 1, and we would do well to explore what the Bible means when it prophesies the “Day of the Lord,” which is where we now turn, by looking at:
PART 2: THE DAY OF THE LORD AND THE PROPHETS
As we just mentioned, the “Day of the Lord” is no bueno. It is God’s declaration of war against a people neck deep in the covenant tar pit. It is not the day that God had a Zuesian temper tantrum —but the culmination of centuries of covenant criminality, finally poured out as a people destroying curse, a nation obliterating judgment, just as the law demanded. It is the final stage in a covenantal lawsuit from which there is no coming back. And speaking of law suits, this is the consistent message from Moses to Malachi, the entire prophetic corpus has been pointing to this Day—the very Day John saw coming in Revelation 1:10.
And the reason for this is simple: God gave the Jews the Law, and He expected them to obey it. At Mount Sinai, Israel didn’t just receive divine advice—they entered into a legally binding covenant (Exodus 19–24). Blessings were promised for obedience. Curses were threatened for rebellion (Deuteronomy 28). When they broke the covenant, God did not immediately annihilate them—He prosecuted them. First, He raised up judges, but the people ignored them. Then He gave them kings, but those kings led them into apostasy. And finally—when all human leadership failed—He raised up prophets. And these prophets were not poets or fortune tellers. They were covenant lawyers, divinely appointed litigators sent to confront the nation with its violations of the Law. Their ministry was a continual invocation of the covenant terms laid down in Deuteronomy and Leviticus, bringing formal charges against Israel and Judah for breach of contract.
This is why the prophets so often begin with courtroom language: “Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth” (Isaiah 1:2)—a direct appeal to the covenant witnesses listed in Deuteronomy 30:19. It is why Hosea charges Israel with “no faithfulness or kindness or knowledge of God in the land” (Hosea 4:1), and why Micah calls the mountains and hills to hear Yahweh’s indictment (Micah 6:1–2). In fact, throughout the prophetic literature, we see a consistent covenantal lawsuit structure—God as Plaintiff, Israel as Defendant, the Law as legal charter, and the prophets as prosecuting attorneys. As theologian Meredith Kline noted, “The prophetic books… follow the form of a covenant lawsuit. They prosecute Israel for violating the stipulations of the Sinai covenant and warn of the judgment that will come if the curses are not averted by repentance.”
This means that when John says, “I was in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day” (Rev. 1:10), he is not describing a quiet moment of personal worship at the local Presbyterian church—he is stepping into the divine courtroom, where the final verdict is being read aloud. The gavel is raised. The sentence is about to fall. And the city in the crosshairs is Jerusalem. She is the new Pompeii—lounging in sin beneath a volcano of covenant wrath. But unlike Pompeii, Jerusalem had centuries of warning. Prophet after prophet stood at her gates like watchmen, blowing the trumpet, announcing the terms, pleading for repentance. And still, she yawned all the way to her demise.
Now, for a moment, let us briefly consider those prophetic warnings, which culminated in Judah’s destruction. And while I wish this could be exhaustive, I will only have the time to give you a brief survey of what the prophets said would happen if the Jews did not repent. And we begin that journey in the book of Isaiah.
ISAIAH:
Isaiah opens the lawsuit with a sweeping condemnation of Judah’s hollow worship. Now remember, this is an indictment 700 years before the destruction of Jerusalem, which goes to show the long-suffering patience of God. This is what Isaiah says: “What are your multiplied sacrifices to Me?” Speaking on behalf of a furious God, Isaiah quotes the Lord as saying “I have had enough…” (Isa. 1:11), which means that at the very beginning of the book of Isaiah, who is the very first covenant lawyer in God’s three-piece-suited, high-powered legal team or 16 prophets, That He is finished with them! The case against them is certain! But Isaiah continues.
In chapter 2, Isaiah announces the coming reckoning of God: “The Lord of hosts will have a day of reckoning against everyone who is proud and lofty” (2:12). This day of reckoning is a synonym for the Day of the Lord John cites in Revelation 1, and trust me, it is no holiday at the sea!
Then, in chapter 13, the legal prophetic language becomes cosmic. Isaiah says: “Wail, for the Day of the Lord is near! It will come as destruction from the Almighty” (v. 6). Isaiah is telling them that the stars will refuse to shine. The heavens will rightly tremble. The sun will be darkened black as suit. And before any of my dispy friends object saying, “SEE!” Isaiah said “SOON” but he clearly was not talking about events that would happen for hundreds if not thousands of years. Clearly this is evidence for my position right??? Well… To you I would say, easy little fella. Don’t get yourself too worked until you know what you are saying… Because all of these lawsuit judgments directed at the Jews in Isaiah 13, were not meant for AD 70. These were prophesied and really did come to pass, when Babylon - led by Nebuchadnezzar - came to J-town and burned it to the ground. The reason I cite this passage is to show you that when a “Day of the Lord” comes, it brings judgment, it is communicated with heavenly language, and the effects are played out by armies burning physical cities to the ground. That is exactly the same pattern that happened when God brought the “Day of the Lord” a second time to Judah, except one crucial difference. The first time when Babylon destroyed them, it was the final warning. There would be no second chances. God would exile them for 70 years, allow them to rebuild, and have one final chance. But… When Rome came to town, there were no more second chances, there would be no more rebuilding. Jerusalem, Judah, and the Old Covenant would be over. The Day of the Lord would bring an end to all these things.
And maybe you are like, how can you make that claim? How can you be so bold? Just because God used “Day of the Lord” language immediately before destroying Jerusalem via Babylon, and just because God gives the EXACT SAME LANGUAGE to John on the island of Patmos, just before Jerusalem is destroyed by the Romans, that doesn’t mean anything. Clearly that is some kind of remote coincidence. Right?
Well, maybe you could claim that. And if you did, I would like for you to tell me next week’s lottery numbers, because the likelihood of you randomly choosing those numbers would be better than my argument being a coincidence. But, just in case you are not yet convinced. That when John drops the phrase “Day of the Lord” in Revelation 1, that is absolutely guarantees a first century fulfillment, then I would appeal to your Lord and savior Jesus Christ. And why would I do that? Because HE QUOTES ISAIAH 13 WHEN HE IS TALKING ABOUT THE DOWNFALL OF JERUSALEM! Just a few verses after claiming the temple will be torn apart brick by brick (Matthew 24:1-2), and just a few verses before saying all of these signs, wonders, and devastation would happen in a single generation (Matthew 24:34), He quotes Isaiah 13 to show how the sun, moon, stars, and heavens have been assembled in the courtroom against them, and they have seen! The sun has seen your covenant breaking! The moon saw your whoring! The skys were witnesses to your treachery! And now, they have turned their back on you, as the judge readies to slam the gavel down and pronounce your sentence! Jesus quotes the “Day of the Lord” passage in Isaiah, to show that the final and most terrifying Day of the Lord is coming! Not thousands of years into the future! To the very people standing right in front of Him (Mt. 24). To the city and its leadership He put under the Mosaic cursed (Mt. 23). To the city He said would be set on fire (Mt. 22). To the city He said would be cast up from its foundations and thrown into the sea (Mt. 21)
What we are seeing, and there is certainly more to show. But, what we have at a minimum saw, is that Isaiah uses “Day of the Lord” language immediately preceding a national disaster, a judgment event where Yahweh is finished with His people for breaking their covenant. And we not only saw that, but we saw Jesus using the same language in AD 30 about Jerusalem. And We have seen John using that same language in AD 66 when the events were just about to happen!
This fact alone proves that John was talking about first century events, but, for the argument’s sake, we will continue along. Now, to the prophet Jeremiah.
JEREMIAH:
Jeremiah was not merely a prophet—he was a summoned witness. He stood with one foot in the temple and the other in the grave. He did not write theology textbooks or preach revival sermons. He filed charges. He issued subpoenas. He bore witness to a covenant that had been trampled, desecrated, and bled dry. And above all, he lifted his voice to announce that the Day of the Lord—that ancient and dreadful day—was drawing near.
In Jeremiah 4, he sees it first. Not as a distant theory but as a living nightmare. The vision is horrific. The sky itself begins to writhe under divine pressure. Jeremiah writes:
“I looked on the earth, and behold, it was formless and void; And to the heavens, and they had no light.” (Jer. 4:23)
This is not metaphor. This is Genesis-in-reverse. The Day of the Lord has arrived like a black tide, and all of creation is being unraveled by the weight of Judah’s sin. The same God who once said “Let there be light” now darkens the heavens in judgment. This is not mere poetry—it is a cosmic subpoena. The stars go dim as heaven’s courtroom lights flicker, and the verdict begins to fall.
The prophets all use this language when Yahweh is preparing to destroy a covenant people. But Jeremiah 4 is especially terrifying because he watches the whole event in slow motion: the cities are emptied, the hills are trembling, the land is laid waste, and not a single man is left. The earth itself recoils from the stench of broken promises and adulterous priests.
But the announcement that seals the case is found in Jeremiah 46:10—one of the most explicit and fearsome declarations of divine litigation in all the prophets:
“For that day belongs to the Lord GOD of hosts, A day of vengeance, so as to avenge Himself on His foes; And the sword will devour and be satiated…” (Jer. 46:10)
Did you catch it? That day belongs to the Lord. That’s the phrase. That’s the courtroom marker. That is tē kuriakē hēmera in its seed form. The Day of the Lord is not a generic moment of judgment—it is the day where God takes personal ownership of the verdict. It is the day when vengeance is not delegated but executed by the Lord Himself. It is the day when God avenges God. And no one can stand before it.
And yes, Jeremiah 46 is initially aimed at Egypt. But God is not giving Egypt special treatment—He is showing Judah a preview. If Egypt will drink the cup of wrath, then how much more the covenant people who pierced His heart with rebellion? In fact, earlier in Jeremiah 25, the Lord says:
“Take this cup of the wine of wrath from My hand and cause all the nations to whom I send you to drink it… and it will be, if they refuse to take the cup… then you shall say to them, ‘Thus says the LORD of hosts: You shall surely drink!’” (Jer. 25:15–28)
And who drinks it first? Not Babylon. Not Egypt. Not Edom. Jerusalem. The Day of the Lord doesn’t begin in foreign lands—it begins in God’s house. Judgment begins not at the edges of empire but at the altar of the temple, where the blood of bulls flowed like water but the hearts of the priests remained dry and cold.
And so the gavel drops.
In Jeremiah 7, the Lord announces that the temple has become a den of robbers. And then He says something that freezes the blood in your veins:
“Behold, I Myself have seen it…” (Jer. 7:11)
The Judge has entered the courtroom. He’s not reading secondhand reports. He’s inspecting the evidence. And what He sees is betrayal. He sees injustice hidden behind holy garments. He sees blood spilled between the porch and the altar. He sees a people who offer sacrifices by day and serve Baal by night. And now—He will act. And how will He do it? With fire. With siege. With famine. With Babylon.
In Jeremiah 27:6, God identifies Nebuchadnezzar as “My servant”—the legal executor of the divine sentence. The Day of the Lord will have a human hand. And that hand will swing a sword until the walls fall, the smoke rises, and the temple lies in pieces.
But this is not just past history—it is legal precedent. When Jesus enters Jerusalem in the Gospels, He reopens Jeremiah’s case file. He quotes Jeremiah 7 as He clears the temple: “You have made it a den of robbers.” He weeps over the city that kills the prophets. He announces that the cup of wrath will be poured out again in that generation. And in doing so, He doesn’t speak as a new prophet with a new case—He speaks as the Divine Judge, bringing the same verdict once more, this time without appeal.
And that brings us to Revelation 1:10. When John says, “I was in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day,” he is not having a private worship moment. He is being swept into the same courtroom Jeremiah stood in. But now the Day of the Lord has returned—not in promise, but in fire. The stars are trembling again. The scroll is open. The cup is full. And this time, there will be no exile, no rebuilding, no second temple. The Day of the Lord has come. The sentence on Judah is final. The Judge has risen. And John is standing in the fire.
EZEKIEL:
Ezekiel was not a street preacher. He was a legal witness stationed in exile—an embedded reporter for the divine tribunal. While Jerusalem carried on with her rituals, pretending all was well, Ezekiel saw what the priests would not: the courtroom had already convened. The charges had already been filed. And the glory of Yahweh, like a judge who had reached the end of mercy, was already rising from the bench.
Ezekiel's entire prophetic ministry is wrapped in covenant litigation. He doesn’t simply predict destruction—he shows us why it’s coming, how it’s coming, and who is bringing it. And at the center of it all stands the Day of the Lord—a day not of mystery but of manifest vengeance.
In Ezekiel 30:3, the prophet declares it plainly:
“For the day is near, Even the day of the Lord is near; It will be a day of clouds, A time of doom for the nations.”
This is no ordinary weather report. This is the language of the tribunal. The clouds are not a backdrop—they are the smoke of the courtroom. The word “doom” is not poetic flourish—it’s the legal outcome of a covenant trial. The Day of the Lord is approaching like a black-robed Judge whose patience has expired. And in Ezekiel’s vision, He is not alone.
In chapter 9, we are introduced to six executioners—angelic officers of judgment. They are sent to the city with weapons in hand. But before the sword falls, one man is appointed to go through Jerusalem and mark every forehead of those who sigh and groan over her abominations. This is not random mercy. It is legal distinction. The righteous are sealed, the guilty are exposed, and then comes the order from heaven’s throne:
“Go through the city… and strike; do not let your eye have pity… But do not touch any man on whom is the mark.” (Ezek. 9:5–6)
This is courtroom justice at its fiercest. The verdict is not general—it is targeted. The Lord knows His remnant. He remembers His covenant. And yet, the city must burn.
In chapter 10, the glory cloud of God—His royal presence—rises from the temple. It doesn’t disappear. It doesn’t ascend into mystery. It moves, deliberately and visibly, away from the Most Holy Place, toward the threshold, then to the east gate, then to the Mount of Olives. It is a legal act. The Judge is leaving His courtroom. The case is over. The city will stand undefended.
And why? Because Jerusalem is not just guilty of sin—she is guilty of covenant prostitution.
In Ezekiel 16 and 23, Yahweh describes her as a harlot, not a victim. She didn’t stumble into idolatry—she pursued it. She decked herself with ornaments. She lay down with foreign lovers. She murdered her children and spread her legs for Egypt, Assyria, and Babylon. And now, her covenant Husband is not grieving—He is prosecuting.
“Therefore, O harlot, hear the word of the Lord: I will judge you as women who commit adultery and shed blood are judged; And I will bring on you the blood of wrath and jealousy.” (Ezek. 16:35–38)
This is divine law. Adultery under the covenant is not treated as private immorality—it is a capital crime. The Judge is not moved by sentiment. He is moved by the law He swore to uphold. And on the Day of the Lord, the sentence will be executed. And yet, in all this ruin, there is a flicker of firelight in the ashes.
Because Ezekiel also sees resurrection. In chapter 37, he is brought to a valley full of bones—dry, dusty, scattered like court records after a trial. And he is told to prophesy. To speak life. And as he does, the bones rattle, the sinews form, and the Spirit breathes again. Israel—though slaughtered—is not erased. She is reborn. Not in the fleshly system of temple priests and bloody altars, but in a spirit-filled people, marked by the law written on hearts of flesh.
This resurrection is not divorced from judgment—it is birthed through it. The Day of the Lord is not only the day the harlot falls—it is the day the Bride begins to rise.
Now fast-forward to the book of Revelation. John, standing in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day, sees everything Ezekiel saw—only now, it is no longer in preview. It is in progress.
In Revelation 7, the saints are marked—just like Ezekiel 9.
In Revelation 18, the harlot city is burned with fire—just like Ezekiel 16.
In Revelation 21, a new temple descends—not made with hands, but built of living stones, filled with the Spirit—just like Ezekiel 40–48.
Ezekiel’s courtroom is no longer a vision. It is being fulfilled in full view. The glory has left the temple. The harlot has been exposed. The executioners have gone forth. And the Day of the Lord is no longer near. It has come. And John is standing in the judgment Ezekiel described—with fire in his eyes and scroll in his hand—watching the bones of the Old Covenant world collapse, so that a New Covenant Bride can stand.
JOEL:
If Ezekiel saw the courtroom emptying and the temple collapsing, Joel saw the sky on fire. He is not a long-winded prophet. He does not offer a slow build or an elaborate lawsuit. He is the alarm. The final blast before judgment. The courtroom has already been seated. The witnesses have already been summoned. And now Joel shouts into the silence:
“Blow a trumpet in Zion, And sound an alarm on My holy mountain! Let all the inhabitants of the land tremble, For the day of the Lord is coming; Surely it is near.” (Joel 2:1)
That’s how he begins. No introductions. No small talk. No appeals. Just the rattling sound of heaven’s gavel being raised. The Day of the Lord is not hypothetical. It is thundering through the streets. And it brings more than doom—it brings divine presence. Not in peace, but in judgment.
Throughout Joel’s short scroll, the phrase “Day of the Lord” blazes like a judicial brand across every page:
Joel 1:15 – “Alas for the day! For the Day of the Lord is near, and it will come as destruction from the Almighty.”
Joel 2:11 – “The Day of the Lord is indeed great and very awesome, and who can endure it?”
Joel 2:31 – “The sun will be turned to darkness and the moon to blood before the great and awesome Day of the Lord comes.”
Joel 3:14 – “Multitudes, multitudes in the valley of decision! For the Day of the Lord is near in the valley of decision.”
This is not a generic day of crisis. This is legal language, saturated with covenantal consequence. The phrase “valley of decision” in Joel 3 is not about personal salvation or an evangelistic call. It is a courtroom. The Hebrew word for “decision” (charuts) refers to a judicial verdict. Yahweh is not asking for input—He is delivering a sentence. And what does this Day look like?
“A day of darkness and gloom, A day of clouds and thick darkness. As the dawn is spread over the mountains, So there is a great and mighty people…” (Joel 2:2)
This is not weather. This is a war march. God’s army is not composed of metaphors or mist—but of fire and steel. The locusts of chapter 1, symbolic of the devouring judgment, give way to armies of divine reckoning in chapter 2. The land burns before them and smolders behind. The sun fades. The moon bleeds. And every covenant protection is stripped away.
“Before them the earth quakes, The heavens tremble, The sun and the moon grow dark And the stars lose their brightness.” (Joel 2:10)
The sky is not malfunctioning—it is testifying. Just as in Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel, the created order participates in the verdict. The stars are not simply ornaments—they are covenant witnesses, called by Yahweh to stand against a people who broke their oaths beneath the heavens. This is not astronomy—it is prosecution. And yet—right in the center of this darkness—a promise erupts like a fountain in the courtroom:
“And it will come about after this That I will pour out My Spirit on all mankind…” (Joel 2:28)
This promise is not postponing the Day of the Lord. It is part of the Day’s unfolding power. The same courtroom that burns the guilty also marks the remnant. The Spirit is not sent in isolation—it is sent after the fire. God is not merely wiping out the old—He is filling the new. The bones have been judged. The fire has fallen. And now the Spirit descends to resurrect a new covenant people.
This is why, in Acts 2, when Peter watches fire fall again—not on Jerusalem, but in Jerusalem—he doesn’t hesitate. He stands up and quotes the book of Joel, saying:
“This is that which was spoken of by the prophet Joel…” (Acts 2:16)
What is “this”? Tongues of fire. The Holy Spirit poured out. Signs in the sky. Judgment at the gates. It’s not a revival. It’s a reckoning. Pentecost is not just about gifting—it’s about the beginning of the end of the Old Covenant world. Peter is telling the crowd that the Day of the Lord has begun—and they are standing in the middle of it. And if they had eyes to see it, they would have known: the fire has returned. The courtroom is active. The witnesses have been sworn in. And the sentence is not far off.
Now fast forward to Revelation 1:10. When John says he was “in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day,” he is not in a quiet Sunday meditation. He is in the very storm Joel described. He hears the trumpet of chapter 1 echo the alarm of Joel 2. He sees the sun darkened, the moon bleeding, the judgment angelic army marching. He sees Babylon burning and the saints sealed. He sees the Spirit poured out again—not in private power, but in public vindication. The covenant lawsuit Joel prophesied has reached its crescendo. The fire has fallen. The Spirit has descended. The temple has been marked for death. And the Day of the Lord is no longer near. It has arrived. Joel’s prophecy was not a warning shot—it was a countdown. And in Revelation, the clock strikes zero.
AMOS:
The voice of Amos begins with a growl. He is not writing poetry. He is pacing in the courtroom. His scroll does not open with gentle exhortation—it opens with the low rumble of divine prosecution:
“The Lord roars from Zion And from Jerusalem He utters His voice…” (Amos 1:2)
This is how Almost, God’s covenant lawyer, begins His book! He is letting every one know that the Judge is speaking from His bench and His voice is no longer patient, but a furious roar. Remember, one covenant lawyer has stood up after another. Now that we are down to Amos, we are in the back half of God’s prophetic attorneys, which means the sands in the hour glass are running low.
I mean, look at how Amos cleverly draws a noose around Judah. He begins by talking about all of the nations that surround her, who are in need of destruction. He calls out Damascus, Gaza, Tyre, Edom. And, if you were to plot those nations on a map, it would put Judah right in the covenantal cross hairs for divine fury. Kind of like a game of battleship and there is only one peg left, and your opponent knows exactly where you are! This is why God says to Judah in Amos:
“Thus says the Lord… I will not revoke its punishment…”
And just in case Judah and Israel are unclear on what He means, God says this:
“Alas, you who are longing for the Day of the Lord, For what purpose will the day of the Lord be to you? It will be darkness and not light; As when a man flees from a lion, And a bear meets him. Or goes home, leans his hand against the wall, And a snake bites him.” (Amos 5:18–19)
The Jews at that time thought the Day of the Lord would be the day of their deliverance. They thought that all of their enemies would be trampled and that God would lift them up to the very highest position on earth, where they could continue their covenant rebellions unimpugned and with no consequence. And God says NO!
Amos reveals the terrifying truth to them that: they are not the plaintiffs in the case the Judge of all has brought. They are the defendants! That’s why the Lord declares in the next verses:
“I hate, I reject your festivals, Nor do I delight in your solemn assemblies…Take away from Me the noise of your songs; I will not even listen to the sound of your harps.” (Amos 5:21, 23)
God’s blessings are not for those who just so happen to have a temple with Yahweh’s name perfunctorily inscribed upon it. It is for those who have a heart after God. Not for bloodlines, but those who keep covenant, unlike Israel and Judah who had broken it again and again and again.
This is why Amos ends by saying:
“Then I will turn your festivals into mourning And all your songs into lamentation; And I will bring sackcloth on everyone’s loins…” (Amos 8:10)
And now—centuries later—when John writes in Revelation 1:10, “I was in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day,” he is not stepping into a Sunday psalm sing. He was about to behold the very moment Amos described was coming!
THE REMAINING PROPHETS MESSAGE
God does not judge on impulse. He does not strike without testimony. He does not thunder without first sending His voice through men. And in His divine courtroom, He has appointed sixteen attorneys—sixteen prophets who speak, indict, warn, plead, and roar. One by one, they rise—each adding new evidence to the scroll, each calling the covenant people to repentance, each sharpening the blade of the coming verdict.
And with every voice that rises, the courtroom grows heavier. The scroll thickens. The Judge shifts in His seat. The Day of the Lord draws near.
We have already heard from Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Joel, and Amos. Their charges are thunderous. Their visions are terrible. And now, as the final prophets rise to speak, the courtroom tension becomes unbearable. The closer we get to Malachi, the closer we stand to Revelation. These final voices do not soften the blow—they confirm it. They do not delay the judgment—they press it forward.
And together, they will show that the Day of the Lord is not a myth, not a metaphor, and not a millennium away. It is a legal appointment. It is a covenant reckoning. It is the day when the Judge no longer warns—but rises to act.
OBADIAH: THE DAY FALLS ON BROTHERS
Obadiah is the shortest of the prophets, but he does not waste words. His case is narrow, but his logic is deadly. He speaks not to Israel’s pagan enemies, but to her brother—Edom. A nation descended from Esau, raised beside Jacob, sharing bloodlines and borders—and yet, when Jerusalem fell, Edom rejoiced. They looted the city. They captured the fugitives. They mocked their kin while the flames rose.
And so God sends Obadiah with one verdict:
“The Day of the Lord draws near on all the nations. As you have done, it will be done to you.” (Obad. 1:15)
This is the lex talionis of the prophets—the law of divine reciprocity. What Edom did to Israel, God will now do to Edom. But more than that—this judgment doesn’t stop with Esau’s house. It expands. It spreads like fire. It rolls like thunder. The Day of the Lord draws near on all the nations—and that includes Jerusalem, whose guilt is even greater. If Edom is guilty for mocking the ruins, what of the ones who caused the ruins?
Obadiah's courtroom is not just about fraternal treason—it’s about universal justice. And the Day of the Lord is not just coming for distant lands. It is encircling Zion.
ZEPHANIAH: THE DAY OF WRATH, THE DAY OF RUIN
Zephaniah opens his scroll like a bailiff announcing judgment—not in prose, but in full-throated proclamation. And from the very first lines, he makes clear: the courtroom is not metaphor. It is execution.
“Near is the great Day of the Lord, Near and coming very quickly; Listen, the Day of the Lord! In it the warrior cries out bitterly. A day of wrath is that day, A day of trouble and distress, A day of destruction and desolation…” (Zeph. 1:14–15)
This is the most compact and violent catalogue of the Day of the Lord in all of Scripture. Wrath. Trouble. Destruction. Darkness. Distress. This is not poetic flair—it is courtroom vocabulary. This is Yahweh’s summons of final judgment, His detailed report of what the sentence will entail.
And where does it fall?
“I will stretch out My hand against Judah And against all the inhabitants of Jerusalem.” (Zeph. 1:4)
The covenant people are the first to be arraigned. The temple is defiled. The priests are corrupted. The wealthy are complacent. And Zephaniah announces that the Day of the Lord will strike like a torch hurled into dry straw. No refuge. No reprieve. No reversal. And yet—one note of hope is struck:
“Seek the Lord, All you humble of the earth… Perhaps you will be hidden In the day of the Lord’s anger.” (Zeph. 2:3)
There will be survivors. Not because they fled the courtroom—but because they clung to the Judge in faith.
ZECHARIAH: THE DAY THAT SPLITS THE MOUNTAIN
Zechariah sees beyond the fire. His scroll opens during the rebuilding of the temple after exile, but he knows the real judgment is still ahead. And in his final chapter, he describes a Day of the Lord that shakes the very geography of Jerusalem:
“Behold, a Day is coming for the Lord… The Lord will go forth and fight against those nations… And on that day His feet will stand on the Mount of Olives… And the Mount of Olives will be split in its middle…” (Zech. 14:1–4)
This is apocalyptic litigation. Mountains move. Skies darken. Waters flow. The cosmic language is not about tectonic shifts—it is about covenantal transfer. And yet, when Jerusalem fell, it was the Romans that cut down all the wood on the Mount of olives, set it on fire to cook their meals while Jerusalem starved to death, and it was on that very mountain where the Romans staged their siege that would bring an end to the covenant Jews forever. Sure there are Jews still alive today. But they are not in covenant with God, and cannot ever be again. That old covenant is dead. Jesus killed it. And now the only way to Yahweh is to come through Him!
This is why the book of Zechariah ends with the old city being split. The old temple falling. And a river of living water beginning to flow out from the city, which is exactly what Revelation 21-22 says. Once that old covenant is destroyed, city, temple, and leadership included, then God will bring life to the world through His Church, who will welcome the nations into her New Jerusalem, and share that living water and tree of life with all who come (Rev. 22)!
The Lord will become King over all the earth (Zech. 14:9)—not after a rapture, not after an escape plan, but after the courtroom burns the old order down once and for all and raises a new one in its place. This is what the Day of the Lord means… And no where is it more clearly stated than in the last Hebrew Lawyer God calls to address the court. And that prophetic lawyer is Malachi. Which we will look at in:
PART 3: THE DAY OF THE LORD TOLD BY MALACHI
If the prophets formed a legal chorus, then Malachi was the final voice—the last attorney to rise before the gavel fell. Sixteen men had stood and delivered their case. One by one, they indicted the covenant people. One by one, they warned of fire. One by one, they described the Day of the Lord. And as each voice thundered into the next, the courtroom grew heavy with evidence, trembling with wrath. And now, at the very edge of silence, Malachi stands—not with a closing argument, but with a closing detonation.
He does not soothe. He ignites. He speaks to a generation steeped in apathy. Priests who defile the altar. Husbands who betray their brides. People who yawn through worship and roll their eyes at reverence. They are not atheists. They still come to church. But they have grown bored with God. And Malachi’s voice rips through their indifference like a furnace door kicked open.
“For behold, the day is coming, burning like a furnace; And all the arrogant and every evildoer will be chaff; And the day that is coming will set them ablaze,” says the Lord of hosts, “So that it will leave them neither root nor branch.” (Mal. 4:1)
This is not Babylon’s furnace. This is God’s. And it is aimed not at pagans, but at His own covenant people. This is the Day of the Lord, not as rumor or rehearsal, but as verdict and flame. The land they corrupted will be scorched. The temple they profaned will fall in ash. If they do not repent, they will not be wounded—they will be wiped away. And yet, even here, with the heat rising and the courtroom lights dimming, a shaft of glory pierces the smoke:
“But for you who fear My name, The sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings; And you will go forth and skip about like calves from the stall.” (Mal. 4:2)
This is the Gospel beneath the gavel. The Day of the Lord will not destroy everyone. It will divide. It will distinguish.For the wicked, it is incineration. But for the righteous, it is resurrection. The same fire that burns the dead roots will light the sky with morning. The Day is not a funeral for them—it is a coronation.
And Malachi does not stop there. He promises dominion:
“You will tread down the wicked, For they will be ashes under the soles of your feet On the day which I am preparing,” says the Lord of hosts.” (Mal. 4:3)
This is not the Church in retreat. This is the Church ascending. This is the kingdom of Christ rising from the ruins of the old world. The saints do not hide in caves—they walk in triumph, treading the remains of a city that crucified the Lord of Glory. This is postmillennial hope, born from prophetic fire. But one final word must be spoken. One last clause remains in the scroll:
“Behold, I am going to send you Elijah the prophet Before the coming of the great and terrible Day of the Lord. He will restore the hearts of the fathers to their children… So that I will not come and smite the land with a curse.” (Mal. 4:5–6)
This is the final breath of the Old Testament. A warning. A mercy. A delay. God says, “I will send Elijah.” And Jesus declares plainly: “If you are willing to accept it, John himself is Elijah who was to come.” (Matt. 11:14)
And how did the covenant people respond to the final covenant attorney, John the Baptist? They mocked him. They ignored him. They imprisoned him. And they cut off his head.
So the curses fell. The curses Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, Amos, Obadiah, Zechariah, and Malachi all warned about fell on that first century! Malachi warned them that the Elijah was coming, and after Him, the day of unrelenting disaster. And instead of listening, that spat in the face of God. The killed John the Baptist. They killed the very God who came and visited their temple. They murdered His bride the church. And after a single generation of slipping into madness, God set their corpses on fire, and the stench of their judgment, wafted up to heaven like it did in the days of Sodom and Gomorrah.
Do not miss what John the apostle is saying. When He said: “I was in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day” (Rev. 1:10), he was not saying a minor thing. He was saying that the criminal who had been sentenced over centuries, had now arrived at his execution day. The last meal was served. The prison cell of death row was opened. And the dead man walking limped along to his electric chair until there was no life left in his veins. That my friends, is what John means in Revelation 1:10. And just a couple of years later, Judah would be lying dead in the noonday sun.
PART 3: THE DAY OF THE LORD AS COVENANT JUDGMENT
To understand what John saw in Revelation 1:10—when he says he was “in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day”—we must not think sentimentally about Sunday mornings. We must think judicially. The “Day of the Lord” is not a holiday. It is a courtroom. It is not a calm devotional moment, but a covenantal detonation. The fire that fell in AD 70 was not an emotional outburst. It was not chaos. It was courtroom procedure. It was the faithful enforcement of a divine contract that Israel had broken beyond repair.
God does not rule like a dictator who punishes people on a whim. He governs like a holy and righteous judge, who upholds the law to the letter. He operates by covenant—binding oaths, legal structures, sworn stipulations, and enforceable sanctions. The “Day of the Lord,” therefore, is not just about wrath—it is about justice rendered according to a broken contract. It is not vengeance driven by impulse; it is judgment driven by agreement. And the nation of Israel, who had once stood in covenant with Yahweh, had become the defendant in the highest court in heaven.
Think of it like this. If a police officer pulled you over and gave you a speeding ticket even though you were under the limit, you’d rightly say it was unjust. If a judge sentenced you to death for a crime you didn’t commit, you would protest with every fiber of your being that such a verdict was not justice. Why? Because justice is not the arbitrary use of power. Justice requires that actions be weighed against laws, that evidence be matched to standards, and that the punishment fit the offense. You cannot be condemned unless you’ve violated something real. And this is the very logic God employs when He judges His people. He does not condemn arbitrarily. He holds them accountable for the terms they agreed to.
And they did agree. After God redeemed Israel out of slavery in Egypt, He brought them to Mount Sinai—not to give them vague spiritual encouragements, but to bind them to Himself in a formal, national covenant. Exodus 19–24 records this event in precise legal terms. The Law was spoken. The people consented. Blood was sprinkled to ratify the contract. Moses declared, “Behold the blood of the covenant which the Lord has made with you” (Exodus 24:8). This was not a motivational moment. This was a legal commitment—a binding agreement that had real blessings for faithfulness, and real curses for rebellion.
Those covenant terms were spelled out in exhaustive detail. If Israel obeyed, God would pour out blessings: fruitful harvests, safety from enemies, prosperity in the land. But if Israel disobeyed, the curses would be unimaginable. Leviticus 26 and Deuteronomy 28 read like divine legal codes: famine, disease, invasion, siege warfare, exile. And most ominously, God warned that if they broke the covenant, He would bring a foreign nation to swoop down on them like an eagle to destroy them. This wasn’t metaphor. It was a treaty. A legal contract between God and His people. And every generation of Israel lived under its terms.
This is why the prophets didn’t arrive on the scene as fortune tellers or street-corner mystics. They came as divine litigators. As covenant prosecutors. They weren’t inventing new ideas—they were holding Israel accountable to what had already been agreed. Every time Isaiah rebuked injustice, every time Jeremiah condemned idolatry, every time Ezekiel exposed priestly corruption—they were not merely making moral observations. They were pressing charges. They were reading the terms of the covenant aloud in public, building God’s case against a rebellious people. They were not merely warning about judgment—they were announcing that judgment was deserved.
And yet, even in judgment, God was slow to act. Like a just judge, He allowed time for appeal. He gave His people centuries of warnings, multiplied prophets, countless calls to repentance. He sent Elijah, Elisha, Hosea, Amos, Micah, and the rest—not to destroy, but to deliver. The entire prophetic corpus is a divine mercy—a sustained effort by God to woo His people back before the gavel fell. But instead of repenting, Israel killed the messengers, scorned the warnings, and doubled down on their treachery. The evidence stacked up like stones. And eventually, the court was seated and the trial began.
When Jesus came, He did not halt the proceedings—He escalated them. He stood not merely as a prophet, but as the covenant Lord Himself, inspecting His vineyard, confronting His tenants, and announcing that their lease was up. He warned that the kingdom would be taken from them and given to a people bearing its fruits (Matt. 21:43). He declared that “all the righteous blood” shed from Abel to Zechariah would fall on that generation (Matt. 23:35–36). He pronounced that their house—Jerusalem—was already desolate (Matt. 23:38). Jesus was not introducing a new covenant lawsuit. He was closing the one that had been in motion since Sinai. The verdict was coming, and the sentence would be final.
This is where the book of Revelation fits. It is not a fresh case—it is the final act in the legal drama of the Old Covenant. Revelation is the courtroom where the Judge rises, where the scroll of indictment is opened, where the harlot city is exposed, and where the sentence is carried out. The structure of the book mirrors the structure of a covenant lawsuit:
– In Revelation 1, the majestic Judge appears, robed and glorious, eyes like fire.
– In chapters 2–3, the faithful plaintiffs—the seven churches—are addressed and comforted, while being warned to remain pure in the chaos ahead.
– In chapters 4–5, the heavenly courtroom is formally convened and the scroll of judgment—the covenant indictment—is brought forth.
– In chapters 6–16, the scroll is unsealed, and judgment falls trumpet by trumpet, bowl by bowl.
– In chapters 17–18, the defendant—apostate Jerusalem—is revealed to be the great harlot.
– In chapters 19–20, the sentence is executed in full.
– And in chapters 21–22, a new covenant people is revealed, the bride arises, and the New Jerusalem descends in glory.
This is the “Lord’s Day” John speaks of in Revelation 1:10. It is not merely the first day of the week—it is court day. The day of reckoning. The day when Yahweh sues His unfaithful bride, proves His case, and enforces His covenant in full. The shaking of the heavens, the opening of the temple, the falling of Babylon—none of it is random. It is divine law, applied with surgical exactness. The covenant had been violated. The sentence had been delayed. But now the Judge had risen.
And here is the most sobering part: God didn’t miss a single clause. Every promise He made through Moses, He fulfilled. Every warning spoken by the prophets, He kept. Every word uttered by Jesus concerning that generation, He executed. He did not exaggerate. He did not forget. He kept His Word—down to the last syllable. This is not chaotic judgment. It is covenant justice. This is not the tantrum of a deity—it is the verdict of a holy King who keeps every oath He swears, including the ones about curses and consequences.
John is not witnessing meaningless destruction. He is watching the terms of a contract being enforced. He is seeing the collapse of a covenant world that rejected its King. He is standing in the fire of covenant wrath—on the Lord’s Day—and he is writing it all down for the churches to understand that their God is just, their Judge is righteous, and their King is faithful.
Now that we have seen what the “Day of the Lord” is, how the prophets warned the Jews about it, what legal precedent they had for their lawsuit, and how AD 70 was when all of the covenant curses were poured out, now we are ready to move forward, and to understand what happens next in Revelation chapter 1. But for now, let’s end today’s episode with our conclusion!
CONCLUSION
So why does it matter?
Why should a first-century courtroom scene, a covenant lawsuit, and a city set on fire shake you from your seat in 2025?
Because you are living in the world that rose from those ashes. You are not waiting for the Kingdom—you are standing in it. The cross was not a pause button. The resurrection was not a prelude. And the fire of AD 70 was not the end of the story. It was the end of their story—so that ours could begin.
When Jesus rode into Jerusalem and wept over her, He wasn’t pitying a city—He was pronouncing a verdict. When He died outside her gates, He was sealing the sentence. And when He rose from the dead, ascended on the clouds, opened the scroll, broke the seals, and unleashed the judgment—He didn’t do that to finish history. He did that to begin His reign.
The Day of the Lord was not just the end of a world—it was the birth of a new one.
That’s why Revelation begins with fire and ends with a Bride. That’s why the Lamb who was slain is now the Lord of history. That’s why the Church is not hiding underground, begging for survival—we are marching across the globe as the radiant wife of the King of kings.
You are not part of a faith that’s on life support. You are not part of a kingdom waiting to begin. You are part of a Church that has already outlived empires, buried tyrants, toppled idols, and will inherit the earth.
The courtroom may be closed—but the coronation is still going.
So wake up. Stop acting like the devil owns the place. Stop retreating like Revelation is a horror movie and your job is to hide until the credits roll. No—the Judge has risen. The verdict has been served. The harlot has fallen. And the Bride is on the move.
You were not saved to survive. You were saved to reign.
So preach like fire. Parent like generals. Worship like victors. Evangelize like a kingdom is at stake—because it is. The Day of the Lord proves that Christ is not a future King—He’s reigning now. His enemies are not winning—they’re being made His footstool. And you’re not waiting for glory to fall—you’re carrying it wherever you go.
So lift your head, Church. The Lord’s Day wasn’t just a reckoning.
It was a resurrection. And now, we will serve the King: Until every knee bows. Until every tongue confesses. Until the knowledge of the Lord covers this planet like floodwaters in Eden. So let’s go.
