Prophecy is the lifting up of a narrative ideal –say, global peace, or economic justice, or individual virtue– over against a person’s or community’s actually lived practice. The narrative ideal takes the form of an often unarticulated utopia, of the lion laying down with the lamb. Rhetorically, the biblical prophets often stage their prophecy as Yhwh’s intervention in history, but speeches of “selling the poor for a pair of sandals” remind us that classical prophecy’s predictive mask is only one possible rhetorical tool. Satire and parody also have roles to play. The successful prophecy employs a narrative ideal shared by its hearers, even if deployed in unique and creative ways.

Apocalypse is one more step removed. Apocalypse is prophecy despaired of the present. It throws the entire created order over against the narrative ideal –now an articulated utopia– dashing the created order against the rocks. Yhwh judges the nations from his Judgment Seat, handing out final reward and punishment Heaven and earth are destroyed by fire then created anew. Christ innaugurates a millennium of peace before unleashing Satan for one last go around. In apocalypse, prophecy exhausts itself in one final speech affirming its narrative ideal and damning its opponent.

Apocalypse is also an unveiling of a previously hidden truth, a narrative with a Scooby Doo ending. It turns out, says the apocalypse, that you were wrong all along, that you played for the wrong team. That cashless economy was actually the Mark of the Beast. That would-be man of peace was actually the Antichrist. If only you had listened, says the apocalypse, you could have switched sides before it was too late.

The prophet must learn the time for prophecy and the time for apocalypse. Throwing an entire created order over against a person’s or community’s practice is heavy work and should not be undertaken lightly. If prophecy is still possible it is too soon for apocalypse. Those who, unembarassed, carelessly throw entire worlds against narrative ideals are lovers of death, not prophets. They delight in showing their strength, exhibiting technique practiced well and long. Many an unheard prophet died before resorting to apocalypse.

Still other prophets –while steering clear of apocalypse– throw together ideals and practices as if a sport. The lift them up, comparing them for their own aesthetic pleasure and for their audience’s pain, without regard for life and need. Better that prophets speak from their own pain. Prophets in classic times faced biblically sanctioned death for false prophecies. By their fruit you will know them.