Revelation 11:15-17

And the seventh angel sounded; and there were great voices in heaven, saying, The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ; and he shall reign for ever and ever.

And the four and twenty elders, which sat before God on their seats, fell upon their faces, and worshipped God,

Saying, We give thee thanks, O Lord God Almighty, which art, and wast, and art to come; because thou hast taken to thee thy great power, and hast reigned.

This is one of those places where heaven speaks ahead of earth.

The seventh angel sounds, and voices in heaven declare that the kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord and of His Christ. Yet when you keep reading Revelation, you see the whole earthly outworking is not finished in that instant. That is because heaven is speaking proleptically. It is declaring something so certain that it is spoken as though it is already done.

I love that. Heaven does not stutter when God has spoken.

We see that elsewhere in Scripture. Isaiah 53:5 says of Jesus, “He was wounded for our transgressions. He was bruised for our iniquities,” long before Calvary ever happened. Romans 8:30 speaks of believers as glorified because what God has purposed is so sure it can be spoken of as complete. That is the language of faith. That is the language of heaven.

And it is a needed language for us.

Most of us know what it is to stand in the middle of something unfinished. The prayer has not yet been answered. The sorrow has not yet lifted. The pressure has not yet broken. From the ground level it can all look delayed, tangled, and confusing. But from heaven’s side, the throne is steady, the outcome is settled, and the King is not nervous.

That is why the elders fall on their faces and worship. They are not waiting until every last enemy is visibly under His feet before they bow. They worship because the certainty of His reign is enough. They thank Him because what He has promised is as good as done.

Think about that.

We usually want to sing after the sea opens, after the child is spared, after the crisis passes, after the door swings wide. But heaven teaches us to worship earlier than that. Heaven teaches us to praise God not only for what He has done, but for what He most surely will do.

That does not mean we pretend pain is pleasant. It means we refuse to let pain have the final word.

I think of Miriam on the far side of the Red Sea, tambourine in hand, leading the women in praise. That was beautiful. But there is an even deeper beauty when a saint learns to worship before the water parts, when the enemy is still close, when the night is still long, when the answer has not yet arrived, and yet the heart says, “The Lord reigns. He will do what He has spoken.”

That is proleptic praise.

And that kind of praise changes the atmosphere of a home, a church, a weary heart. The person who only talks from the valley will spread the valley everywhere. But the one who speaks from the certainty of God’s throne brings a little bit of heaven into the room.

Beloved, this world still looks rebellious. Nations still rage. Evil still struts. But do not let the noise of the present blind you to the certainty of the future. Jesus Christ will reign openly and absolutely. The kingdoms of this world will indeed be His.

So worship Him now.

Thank Him now.

Trust Him now.

Sing before the sea opens.