“Don’t stay out past dark or the Demon of the Jungle will get you!”
A mother called after her children as they ran barefoot down a dirt path in a small Philippine village, the sun already slipping behind the trees. The air was thick and warm, heavy with the smell of damp earth and woodsmoke. The boys laughed as they vanished into the dusk, but they knew the warning was no joke.
Parents had whispered about him for years. Some called him the Ghost Soldier. Others just lowered their voices and changed the subject. He wasn’t a bedtime story invented to scare children into obedience. Something — someone — really was out there.
The jungle was oppressive, even angry. Its leaves clung to your skin. Its mud pulled at your feet. At night, the air buzzed with insects and the low hum of unseen life teeming in its undergrowth. And every so often, a gunshot would crack through the trees — sharp, sudden, and gone — leaving only a peace-less silence and the sound of your racing heart in its wake.
Food went missing. Cattle were taken. Traps were found along narrow paths where the wild growth had been tamed by machetes. Dozens of people were wounded; some of whom never returned home. No one ever saw the Ghost clearly, and no one knew where he came from—or went.
He had been there for more than thirty years — at least, that’s how the story was told. But the question lingered in the village air like smoke after a fire:
Why?
Why would someone live like this — alone in the jungle, striking from the shadows…seemingly at random? Was he a Demon? A Ghost? A Madman as some had claimed? Or was there something more to the story?
We all know we won’t learn the truth until the end of the story! Sp, for now, let’s put the Demon of the Jungle in our pockets… and open our Bibles to Revelation 12.
Scripture
(Revelation 12:4-5, NRSVue) 4 His tail swept down a third of the stars of heaven and threw them to the earth. Then the dragon stood before the woman who was about the deliver a child, so that he might devour her child as soon as it was born. 5 And she gave birth to a son, a male child, who is to rule all the nations with a sceptre of iron. But her child was snatched away and taken to God and to his throne.
Prayer
Father in heaven, we come to You in the name of Jesus—our King, our Shepherd, our Victor.
Lord, we confess that when we open a passage like this, we can feel small, confused, or tempted to treat it like a puzzle instead of a revelation. So we ask for what we cannot manufacture: eyes to see, ears to hear, and hearts that are soft and awake.
Holy Spirit, give us humility where we need it, courage where we’ve been afraid, and clarity where we’ve been distracted. Help us to see what is really happening behind the scenes—not so that we become fascinated with darkness, but so that we become anchored in the triumph of Christ and faithful in the battles we face this week.
Guard us from speculation that leads nowhere, and lead us into the kind of truth that produces repentance, endurance, and hope. And as we look at the Dragon and the child, the war and the victory, would You make Jesus feel near—strong enough to inspire, gentle enough to comfort, and worthy of our trust.
We ask this in the mighty name of Jesus. Amen.
Preamble
If you’ve been tracking with our Advent series, Christmas Outside the Gospels, then you’ve seen the story unfolding across Scripture.
It begins in Genesis 3:15 — humanity falls, sin fractures creation, and God makes a promise: a Redeemer will come, one who will crush the head of the serpent even as He Himself is wounded. From the very beginning, redemption and conflict are intertwined.
Then we fast-forward to Deuteronomy 18, where God promises a prophet like Moses — a deliverer who will stand between God and His people. And when you look at Moses’ life, you start to see the shape of the Messiah’s story forming long before Jesus is born.
- A ruler tries to have him killed as a child.
- He survives.
- He grows up near power.
- He is rejected by his own people.
- He confronts the rulers of the age.
- He leads God’s people out of bondage and toward a promised inheritance.
Moses isn’t the Messiah — but his life foreshadows the one who is coming.
Now, today, we jump ahead — not just a few centuries, but to the far end of the New Testament — to the book of Revelation.
John is writing to seven real churches in Asia Minor, and each of them is facing serious trouble. But the trouble doesn’t look the same everywhere.
- Ephesus is busy and orthodox, but the love has gone cold.
- Smyrna is suffering and afraid.
- Pergamum is compromising with the culture.
- Thyatira is confusing tolerance with love.
- Sardis looks alive but is spiritually dead.
- Philadelphia is weak but holding on.
- Laodicea is comfortable, self-sufficient, and blind to its need.
And as we hear those descriptions, something interesting happens.
Some of those churches feel familiar.
Some feel distant.
Some feel like warnings for other people.
But Jesus doesn’t address them as seven unrelated problems.
He appears to John in a vision — walking among the lampstands, holding the leaders of His churches in His hand — showing that He is present, attentive, and not absent from their struggle.
Then the seals are opened, revealing that history itself is unfolding under the authority of the Lamb. The trumpets sound, warning a rebellious world that sin brings real consequences, even as God restrains full judgment.
And only after all of that — after the church’s struggles, after Christ’s authority, after God’s warnings — does John pull back the curtain even further.
What if these seven problems aren’t seven separate issues at all?
What if they’re symptoms?
What if behind persecution and complacency, compromise and fear, deadness and distraction, there is a deeper conflict at work — one we don’t usually see, but feel every day?
That’s where Revelation 12 takes us.
Into the deeper conflict behind the conflict. Into the war in the heavenly places that explains the pressure the church feels on earth.
Let’s read Revelation 12:1–3 to set the tone, before we turn our attention to verses 4 and 5.
Prologue
(Revelation 12:1-3, NRSVue) 12:1 A great portent appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars. 2 She was pregnant and was crying out in birth pangs, in the agony of giving birth. 3 Then another portent appeared in heaven: a great red dragon, with seven heads and ten horns and seven diadems on his heads.
Revelation 12 opens with one of those moments where, if you’re not used to apocalyptic literature, you might wonder if you’ve accidentally tuned into a weird episode of Star Trek or Doctor Who.
Who is this space woman?
Why is there a dragon?
And why does any of this matter?
So let’s slow down and walk through it together.
John tells us that what he’s seeing is a portent — a sign. A vision. This isn’t meant to be taken like a newspaper headline or a hidden code. It’s a picture God is giving John so that we can see reality from a different angle.
The first thing John sees is a woman — clothed with the sun. Just pause there for a second. Think about that. Think about *wearing the *sun**. That’s blinding. Radiant. So bright you couldn’t even look directly at her. She stands on the moon, and on her head is a crown of twelve stars. This imagery might actually sound familiar. There is an echo here from Joseph’s dream in Genesis — the sun, the moon, the stars — Jacob and the twelve tribes.
This woman represents the people of God—the covenant people through whom His promises would come to fruition. Clothed in pure light. Bright. White. This, ladies and gentlemen is the Bride of Christ as described in Isaiah, Hosea, and Jeremiah. Nowadays we think of her as the Church and that is true now, but at this point in the story we Gentiles have not yet been grafted into that promise.
And what else do we notice about this woman? She’s pregnant. She is pregnant with the Messiah. Jesus doesn’t arrive out of nowhere. He comes through the people God has been shaping, correcting, preserving, and sometimes painfully pruning for centuries.
But this isn’t a Hallmark scene. She’s crying out in pain. The birth of Jesus comes after four hundred years of silence. God’s people are under occupation. Their faith is strained. Their leaders are more concerned with power and appearances than faithfulness.
And then John sees something else. Another portend—another sign—appears in heaven: a great red dragon.
To ancient readers, red meant rage and bloodshed. And dragons weren’t fairy-tale creatures; they were relatively common symbols of chaos — forces that oppose God’s order and life.
And this dragon has seven heads, ten horns, and seven crowns.
Now, if you want, you can spend the rest of your life trying to match each horn to a ruler and each crown to a kingdom. People have done that for centuries. But here’s the honest truth: all that speculation doesn’t actually help us understand what John is showing us.
Seven in Scripture is the number of completeness. This dragon represents a counterfeit wholeness — a false authority that promises what only God can give, but Satan makes it seem so compelling by offering this false completeness, this false wholeness on our terms.
It’s the same lie whispered in the garden: You don’t need God to flourish. You can take control for yourself. And the crowns say, “Trust me.” They say, “I have authority.” They say, “I have the power.”
And at first this can seem true because horns show that the dragon does have real power — exercised through rulers and systems that oppose God and His people.
This isn’t imaginary. And it isn’t harmless. What it means is that what John is about to show us isn’t just about a birth. It is the Advent of War.
With that context in place, let’s turn to verses 4 and 5 for the crux of our study today.
Verse 4
(Revelation 12:4, NRSVue) 4 His tail swept down a third of the stars of heaven and threw them to the earth. Then the dragon stood before the woman who was about the deliver a child, so that he might devour her child as soon as it was born.
This is quite a sight! He—the Dragon swept down a third of the stars in the sky with his tail. In Isaiah we see that the head leads, while the tail lies. So Satan doesn’t demonstrate his power with leadership! He has no leadership—at least not in the Biblical sense of the word—instead he demonstrates his power with lies! Because Satan is a liar. He will promise you everything, but like the promise he made to Eve, it is hollow and empty; a third-rate Temu knockoff of the real thing! His power is real, his promise is not.
Now, much has been made over the centuries about what is meant by this image. Do the starts represent rulers? Angels? Are they just a metaphor? Let’s briefly look at each option.
Are the stars rulers, like we see in Daniel 8? That case could be made, and many faithful Christians do, but I just don’t think it’s necessary. Like the heads and horns of the previous section, this can lead to neverending speculation about who exactly this might be referring to, and I personally know many people who can talk about this stuff for hours, but I’m not sure if some of them have ever actually just sat in the loving presence of Jesus and enjoyed that simple moment.
What about angels? Could they be angels? Maybe you’ve heard the idea that Satan turned a third of the angels in heaven against the Lord in a revolt? This is a totally made-up idea based on this very passage, but I don’t see anything about angels in here.
This leaves what I contend is the most accurate and most critically important understanding of this passage: it is a metaphor about the very real power Satan has for a short season—a time, times, and half a time—as we read later in the chapter.
I genuinely think it’s as straightforward as that. Jesus wants John to know—and to relay to his readers—that Satan is a real force to be reckoned with.We don’t have time to be compromised, confused, complacent, and cold! There is a war happening right now, and we need to take up our arms! Not rooted in fear and achieved through violence, but rooted in love and achieved through truth, grace, and faithfulness!
And look what the dragon tries to do next. He stands before this woman—Israel—who is about to bring forth a child—the seed of Eve, the Messiah, Jesus—so that he might devour the child as soon as it was born!
You remember just a few minutes ago we talked about how Moses foreshadowed the life of Jesus. Moses was a saviour, a delivered in the style—what we Bible nerds call ‘types’—, in the type of Jesus. And just as Pharaoh killed the babies to try and stop the deliverer, so too did Herod kills the babies to try and stop the deliverer. But do you see what’s most interesting here, church?
Was Pharaoh Satan? No, of course not. Pharaoh was a human man. Was Herod Satan? No, he too was merely a human man. So what lesson, then, can we draw from this? Church, this is so good, come with me on a journey through the Scriptures!
(1 Chronicles 21:1, NRSVue) 21:1 Satan stood up against Israel and incited David to count the people of Israel.
(Luke 22:3-4, NRSVue) 3 Then Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot, who was one of the twelve; 4 he went away and conferred with the chief priests and officers of the temple police about how he might betray him to them.
(John 8:44, NRSVue) 44 You are from your father the devil, and you choose to do your father’s desires. He was a murderer from the beginning and does not stand in the truth because there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks according to his own nature, for he is a liar and the father of lies.
(Ephesians 2:2, NRSVue) 2 in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the ruler of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work among those who are disobedient.
Over and over we see Satan take advantage of human agents to fulfill his evil purposes. And he is happy to take and to receive all the credit, but he is also happy too see us held accountable for our actions. He holds up a funhouse mirror telling us it shows the unvarnished truth, and for some reason we willfully embrace this distortion! We desire to be free of God’s rules so that we can be secretly manipulated by the father of lies!? Make it make sense!
The great tragedy is that those who are being manipulated by Satan—of whom I used to be one—have no idea it’s happening. We can’t see that we have sided with the child-devourer unless someone tells us! Well I’m telling you now. Don’t play the fool for Satan for one minute longer. It’s time to step into the safety, security, and love of Christ. Because, as we are about to see, the dragon doesn’t have the power or influence or authority he thinks he does.
Verse 5
(Revelation 12:5, NRSVue) 5 And she gave birth to a son, a male child, who is to rule all the nations with a sceptre of iron. But her child was snatched away and taken to God and to his throne.
Well, the moment of truth arrives. The Dragon — Satan — has his plan. And the God of the universe has His plan. So the question hanging in the air is simple: who will win?
The baby — Jesus — is born. The first Christmas. And Satan is ready. He is waiting. He is poised to strike. His Herod-led plan fails. And even when Satan manages to manipulate key Jewish and Roman leaders — to arrest Jesus, to beat Him, to crucify Him, to bury Him, to seal the tomb — even then, Satan still does not win.
Because on the third day, God decisively intervenes. Jesus is raised from the grave. Jesus is exalted to the throne. Jesus is snatched away — not in retreat, but in victory.
That word snatched is important. It’s the Greek word harpazō. It’s the same word Paul uses in 1 Thessalonians 4:17:
(1 Thessalonians 4:17, NRSVue) Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up in the clouds together with them to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will be with the Lord forever.
In the same way that God decisively rescued and exalted Jesus, He will decisively rescue us. Church, this is resurrection language. This is victory language. This is war-won language.
Jesus is the firstfruits — the first to rise, the first to conquer, the first to spoil Satan’s plan. And every single person who comes to faith in Christ is another failure thrown in the face of the red Dragon.
Another plan ruined. Another lie exposed. Another soul rescued.
Jesus is King of kings and Lord of lords. He stands over Satan. Over sin. Over death. Over demons. Over the grave. Over hell itself. Hallelujah!
But before we rush past this moment, John wants us to notice something else. Jesus’ mission is described this way: He will rule all the nations with a sceptre of iron.
That line sends us straight back to Psalm 2:9.
(Psalm 2:9, NRSVue) You shall break [the nations] with a rod of iron and dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel.
And at first glance, that can be confusing. “Break” doesn’t sound much like “rule,” does it? So let’s slow down here — because this is actually beautiful and kind of mind-blowing!
NERD ALERT!
In ancient Hebrew, words were written only with consonants, and the pronunciation—which requires vowel sounds that could affect the meanings of the words—was preserved orally long before standard vowel markings were added centuries later. In Psalm 2:9, the consonants can legitimately be read in two closely related ways: one meaning to break or shatter, and the other meaning to shepherd or rule.
And here’s the key detail.
The Greek translation of the Old Testament — called the “Septuagint”, which was the Bible most often quoted by the apostles — chooses the word that means to shepherd DESPITE the original Hebrew preferring to break. That’s why Revelation doesn’t say Jesus will “smash” the nations.
It says He will shepherd them.
And the image John gives us is a rod of iron — which can be the sceptre of a king or the staff of a shepherd.
Do you see what God has done?
For those who belong to Him, that iron sceptre is the unbreakable shepherd’s staff — strong enough to protect, steady enough to guide, firm enough to keep us safe.
And for those who refuse Him, that same iron sceptre is a warning: the authority of Jesus is real, final, and cannot be resisted forever—and destruction awaits the rebel.
Same King. Same power. Two very different experiences.
When you stand before Jesus, will you see a shepherd who guards you — or a King whose authority you’ve rejected?
Because here’s the thing, church: The outcome of this war is already certain. Jesus has won. The throne is occupied. The Dragon has lost.
The only question left is not who wins — it’s whose side we choose to stand on.
And notice how John tells this story.
Jesus’ birth.
Jesus’ death.
Jesus’ resurrection.
Jesus’ ascension.
All of it is compressed into two short phrases: “She gave birth.” and “He was snatched away.”
Why? Because John isn’t writing another biography. He already did that with His Gospel account. No, John is authoring Jesus’ victory announcement!
Conclusion
Because what we see next in the story is the woman seeking refuge in a place God prepared for her, while the Dragon and his angels fight Michael and his angels. The Dragon is defeated and thrown down to the earth — where he now enjoys only limited dominion, as the “ruler of the power of the air,” like we read earlier in Ephesians 2:2.
His authority has not increased — it has narrowed. He no longer accuses in heaven; he can only harass on earth. His reach is smaller, but his rage is greater.
And this brings us back around to the Demon of the Jungle that we put in our pocket at the beginning. You remember that for more than thirty years the residents of small villages near the Philippine jungles lived in fear of the Ghost Soldier — because of seemingly random thefts and attacks that left livestock, and even people, dead.
Well — as some of you may already know — this is a true story. But the Demon, the Ghost, as he was called, was neither. His name was Hiroo Onoda, and he was a Second Lieutenant in the Imperial Japanese Army. On December 26, 1944, he was deployed to the jungles of Lubang Island in the Philippines.
Japan officially surrendered barely more than eight months later, but Onoda did not know the war had ended. Over time, each of his comrades fell, but Onoda — all alone — refused to give up. He kept fighting a war that was already over. Through the 1950s and 1960s they tried everything to reach him, but every announcement, flyer, and pamphlet was dismissed as enemy propaganda meant to distract him from his mission. Finally, in 1974 — a full thirty years after his deployment — his original commanding officer, now a bookseller, was brought to the jungle to officially rescind Onoda’s orders.
For more than twenty-nine years, he fought not only a losing battle, but a lost one. The war was quite literally over.
And in some ways, that made him more dangerous. He was no longer a soldier pursuing victory, but a renegade lashing out in whatever direction felt right in the moment. Japan’s surrender certainly didn’t mean Onoda was no longer a threat. He terrorized an entire generation as the Ghost Soldier — the Demon of the Jungle.
So it is with Satan.
He is a sore loser. And even though he has lost — and worse, knows he has lost — that knowledge has done nothing to slow him down. He is committed to doing as much damage as possible on his way to destruction.
Satan is not building a kingdom. He cannot build. He can only destroy.
He cannot lead — only mislead.
He is not recruiting followers. He is recruiting casualties.
And that’s exactly what God tells us next in John’s vision in Revelation 12:
(Revelation 12:10–12, NRSVue) Then I heard a loud voice in heaven proclaiming, “Now have come the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Messiah, for the accuser of our brothers and sisters has been thrown down, who accuses them day and night before our God. But they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they did not cling to life even in the face of death. Rejoice then, you heavens and those who dwell in them! But woe to the earth and the sea, for the devil has come down to you with great wrath, because he knows that his time is short!”
Notice how they conquer him. Not with violence. Not with fear. Not with power plays. But by trusting the finished work of Jesus — and by refusing to live as though death gets the final word.
Because here’s the truth, ladies and gentlemen: the outcome of the war is settled. Of this there is no doubt whatsoever. But each individual skirmish — each particular battle — still remains to be fought.
Those battles are not fought against flesh and blood, but against the unseen forces that shape how this world thinks, values, and operates. They are fought in ordinary places: in marriages, in habits we are trying to break, in forgiveness we don’t want to offer, in truth we are tempted to soften, in courage we keep postponing.
And so we must don the belt of truth, helmet of salvation, the breastplate of righteousness, the shield of faith, the sword of the Spirit, and the shoes of the gospel of peace. And we step into the fray — not to vanquish our enemy, because Jesus has already done that — but because love compels us to save our fellow image-bearers!
It can be easy — even tempting — to look at people who are “not like us.” Sometimes they’re openly hostile toward us. Other times they’re simply shaped by a very different worldview. And if we’re not careful, we start to think they are the enemy.
Oh church, please don’t do this.
These people are not our enemies. They are simply us without Christ. They are not the ones we fight against — they are the mission field Christ has sent us to. They are the people we fight for.
We fight for them because they matter. We fight because no one should be taken down by an enemy who has already been defeated.
So let’s get on our knees in repentance for ourselves and in petition for our neighbours. And then let’s get out there and live lives that drip with the love of Jesus and the hope of the Gospel — forgiving quickly, telling the truth courageously, and refusing to live as though the war has not already been won.
And in that way, we can always be ready to give a reason for the hope that is within us.
Amen?
Amen. Let’s pray:
Lord Jesus Christ, Lamb of God, Shepherd of the nations, King of kings—we praise You, because the throne is occupied and the war has already been decided.
Thank You that the accuser has been thrown down. Thank You that You have conquered sin and death by Your cross and Your resurrection. Thank You that You do not call us to fight for a victory that is uncertain, but to stand firm in a victory You have already won.
And now, Father, we ask for Monday grace. Where there is hidden sin, bring it into Your light. Where there is bitterness, bring forgiveness. Where there is fear, bring courage. Where there is compromise, bring conviction. Where there is weariness, bring strength. Teach us to resist the lies of the evil one, to hold fast to the word of our testimony, and to cling to You above all else.
Help us to don the armour You provide—not in self-reliance, not in anger, not in violence, but in love, truth, faithfulness, and obedience. Make us a people whose lives drip with the love of Jesus and the hope of the gospel, ready to speak, ready to serve, ready to pray, ready to endure.
And Lord, we pray for those still under the deception of the enemy: rescue them. Open blind eyes. Bring prodigals home. Save our neighbours. Strengthen our families. Build Your church.
We entrust ourselves to You—our victorious King and faithful Shepherd—until the day faith becomes sight.
In Jesus’ name, amen.