ALAN EASON — Crisis brings fear and we humans invariably hunger for strong leadership and security. The recent attacks in Paris, Egypt, even in the United States, bring new terrors. They were designed to do just that. And they are growing. Ordinary people have been massacred and Christians have been singled out. They have suffered beheadings, crucifixions and sudden ejection from ancestral homes.

Here in the United States it may be more subtle, but we are alarmed. We see threats everywhere — threats to our freedom of conscience, our economy, our tradition of self-government. Added to that we see the obvious degradation of our culture, our economy, our morality and our resolve.

Many American Christians are tempted to despair.

But it is not just Christians who are worried. There seems to be a sense of impending catastrophe in our culture. Moviemakers have focused more and more on dark themes with catastrophes of biblical proportions. Earthquakes, fires, floods, volcanoes, asteroids, alien invasions — all sorts of apocalyptic films fill our theaters.

And now, with American cities erupting, terrorist Jihadis targeting western societies, rogue nations gaining atomic weapons, the softness of many of our own leaders in dealing with — or even recognizing — evil, we start to wonder if the movies might be onto something.

For the serious Bible student, there is even more to consider: The prophets of the Old Testament preached hard to warn Israel that the erosion of their faithfulness to God and his commandments would lead to coming judgments in the form of wars, captivity, famine and plague. Many of us believe we need the same kind of preaching today.

But many pastors hesitate to preach warnings with the kind of fire and thunder the prophets exuded (as did also many early American preachers) because they fear they will be hounded by their peers and congregants will leave their churches in droves. So they focus on grace.

Yes, we must emphasize grace and the love of God. But there comes a time when we must focus our eyes upon the battle.

For many that happens only when the real war comes to us, or when something is at the gates. What do we do then? At that time — and it is better if done long before that comes — we must remind ourselves that we serve the warrior king, the King of Kings. The battle is his, and he will wage it mightily. And we are his beloved.

In the book of Acts, the apostles and the young church in Jerusalem came under a storm of persecution after they began preaching the gospel following Pentecost. The leaders of their society, still enraged over the upstart Nazarene (of whom they thought they had rid themselves) came at them with full fury. They attacked the followers of Jesus, beating them, imprisoning them and threatening death unless they shut their mouths.

The frightened Christians huddled together and prayed. At the end of the prayer they invoked a Messianic passage in the second Psalm:

“Why did the Gentiles rage, and the peoples imagine vain things? The kings of the earth took their stand, and the rulers have gathered together against the Lord and against his Messiah?”… And now, Lord, look at their threats, and grant to your servants to speak your word with all boldness … (Acts 4:29)

They quoted the messianic Psalm 2, which describes how the Messiah would become King of Kings and rule the nations as a warrior king. This king could and would wage war, righteously. The so-called “rulers” of earth should tremble.

The Psalm concludes with:

I will tell of the decree of the Lord: He said to me, “You are my son; today I have begotten you. Ask of me, and I will make the nations your heritage, and the ends of the earth your possession. You shall break them with a rod of iron, and dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel.” Now therefore, O kings, be wise; be warned, O rulers of the earth. (Psalms 2:7-10)

Luke states in Acts that they then went out and preached boldly (Acts 4:31).

This image of Jesus as the warrior king startles many Christians today. They have a view of Jesus as mostly tender and gentle. And he is that. Another messianic passage prophesies that the Messiah will be so gentle that he will neither snuff out a flickering candle nor break an already-bruised stalk of grass (Isaiah 42:3). Jesus himself taught that he is “meek and lowly in heart” and his yoke is easy and he will give you rest (Matthew 11:28-30).

Yet for those who fight against him — or against his people — he is more fierce that you can imagine.

That is the Jesus few know much about.

Consider this:

John, in the vision shown him on the island of Patmos, shares images of Jesus as the Warrior King fulfilling the prophecy of the second Psalm, the same prophecy that the early Christians invoked in Jerusalem. The beyond-cinematic vision that John sees is dramatically stark and as bold as anything Hollywood could have ever imagined.

And, unlike the movies, it is real.

Then I saw heaven opened, and there was a white horse! Its rider is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he judges and makes war. His eyes are like a flame of fire, and on his head are many diadems; and he has a name inscribed that no one knows but himself. He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is called The Word of God. And the armies of heaven, wearing fine linen, white and pure, were following him on white horses. From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron; he will tread the wine press of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh he has a name inscribed, “King of kings and Lord of lords.” (Revelation 19:11-16)

So, Christians — take hope. Let your hope not be the faint, timid hope couched in a comfortable vision of some relatively easy victory, in this or in any other nation. Rather let it be the hope that arises when under attack, when huddling in prayer, when threatened with “Keep your mouths shut or else!” Take hope in your King, before whom every knee shall bow.

He loves you and he will — he already does — do battle for you.