Nicanor is the main character in our short historical fiction episodes showing how the Book of Revelation may have first traveled from Patmos in the Aegean Sea in the first century to the churches in Asia Minor—and eventually to the whole world and people in every age since.
During this “Armchair Apocalypse” series, we’ll follow Nicanor on his travels to better understand the Book of Revelation by exploring the people and the times in which it was first revealed.
Nicanor and the Sound of One Trumpet
By midday, Smyrna had disappeared behind the hills.
Nicanor followed the northbound road toward Pergamum with the scroll secured beneath his cloak. Elder Justus had arranged for another believer to travel with him—a Jewish cloth merchant named Matthias ben Levi, who knew the road and the questions asked at Roman checkpoints.
As evening approached, they left the main road and made camp beneath a stand of pine trees. While Matthias divided their bread, Nicanor unrolled a small portion of John’s letter and read by the fading light:
“Behold, he cometh with clouds; and every eye shall see him.” — Revelation 1:7, KJV
“John speaks of the Lord’s coming many times,” Nicanor said. “But when will the faithful be gathered to Him? Before the suffering—or when He appears?”
Matthias looked puzzled. “Why would those be two different arrivals?”
He explained that the prophets had taught Israel to expect a day when God would openly judge evil, raise the dead, restore His people, and establish His kingdom. Daniel had written that those sleeping in the dust would awaken. Isaiah spoke of a great trumpet gathering God’s scattered people. Zechariah described the Lord coming with His holy ones.
“None of our fathers expected the Messiah to arrive secretly,” Matthias said. “When a king comes to claim his kingdom, he does not sneak through the back gate.”
Nicanor thought about the rest of John’s vision: the seventh trumpet, the resurrection, the Rider appearing from heaven, the Beast defeated, and the kingdoms of the world becoming the kingdom of Christ.
“Could the Lord come unseen for His people,” he asked, “and then appear to the world later?”
“John never said that.” Matthias tore the bread in half and handed a piece to him. “He gave the churches one hope: endure until the King comes. The dead are raised, the faithful are gathered, evil is judged, and Christ reigns. Why split one victory into two?”
A trumpet sounded faintly from a Roman watchtower somewhere beyond the trees. Both men fell silent until its echo died among the hills.
“To our people, a trumpet calls the assembly,” Matthias continued. “It announces the king. It warns that the day of decision has arrived. No one hears it and wonders whether something secret just happened.”
Nicanor smiled. “Especially not that one.”
As darkness settled, he remembered the believers in Smyrna listening to John’s warning: Be faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life. John had not promised that they would disappear before Rome tested them. He promised that even death could not steal their victory.
That changed how a person prepared for the Lord’s return. The faithful did not spend their lives searching for an escape hatch. They cared for prisoners, fed families who had lost their income, refused the emperor’s incense, and reminded one another that Rome’s power had an expiration date.
At sunrise, Nicanor and Matthias returned to the road. Somewhere ahead stood Pergamum, a city of temples, imperial power, and what John had called “Satan’s seat.”
Nicanor tightened the strap holding the scroll.
The hope written inside was not that Jesus would quietly remove His people from the world and return again later.
It was that the risen King would appear once—openly, unmistakably, and in power—and gather a faithful people who had been waiting for Him.
