Revelation 11:9-10

And they of the people and kindreds and tongues and nations shall see their dead bodies three days and an half, and shall not suffer their dead bodies to be put in graves.

And they that dwell upon the earth shall rejoice over them, and make merry, and shall send gifts one to another; because these two prophets tormented them that dwelt on the earth.

This is one of the most chilling scenes in Revelation.

The whole world looks on, not with sorrow, not with shock, but with celebration. These two witnesses lie dead in the street, and instead of covering them, burying them, or showing even the smallest measure of dignity, the world turns it into a holiday. People rejoice. They make merry. They send gifts. It is as if hell itself has sponsored Christmas.

For a long time, readers wondered how the peoples and kindreds and tongues and nations could all see this happen. That sounded impossible to earlier generations. But now it does not sound strange at all. A camera in one city can be watched in every nation on earth within moments. What once seemed difficult to imagine no longer feels difficult at all.

John saw it before the technology existed.

I think that is worth pausing over.

The Bible did not need modern man to make it believable. It was true before satellites, true before cable news, true before livestreams, true before phones in every hand. But from our side of history, we can now read this and say, yes, the world really could watch this unfold together.

And what they do with that shared moment says everything about the condition of the human heart.

They rejoice because these two prophets tormented them. Not by cruelty. Not by abuse. Not by oppression. They tormented them simply by telling them the truth. The witnesses made people uncomfortable. They confronted sin. They announced judgment. They would not flatter the world, and the world hated them for it.

That has always been the way.

People do not mind religion that entertains them.
They do not mind spirituality that soothes them.
They do not mind messages that bless them while leaving them alone.

But when truth starts pressing on conscience, that is another matter. When a man starts speaking in a way that exposes sin, disturbs compromise, and warns of judgment, the world does not call that love. It calls that torment.

That is what is happening here.

The witnesses were a torment because they would not play along with the lie. Their very presence was a rebuke. Their words would not let men rest comfortably in rebellion. And when they fall, the world breathes a sigh of relief and begins to celebrate.

That is dark. But it is also revealing.

It shows just how far the world can go when it has fully hardened itself against God. Men will not merely reject the truth. They will eventually throw a party when they think the truth has been silenced.

And yet, do not miss this. Their celebration is premature.

The cameras are rolling. The crowds are cheering. The gifts are changing hands. But heaven is not finished.

I like that because it reminds me how often the world celebrates too soon. It thinks it has buried conviction. It thinks it has silenced witness. It thinks it has won because the righteous are mocked, pushed aside, or left lying in the street. But the story is never over just because the crowd says it is.

Not when God is writing the ending.

There is comfort here for any believer who has ever been made to feel out of place because of truth. If you have been mocked, shut out, dismissed, or treated as a problem because you would not go along with what everyone else was celebrating, you are in good company. The world hated these witnesses for the very same reason. They would not stop speaking for God.

So do not measure your faithfulness by applause.

The world may call conviction torment.
The world may call warning hatred.
The world may call holiness narrow and truth harsh.

But heaven sees differently.

And Revelation 11 reminds us that even when the whole world seems united in celebration against the things of God, their laughter only lasts a little while. The Lord always has the final word.