Chapter 14

1Then I looked, and there in front of me was the Lamb, standing on Mount Zion, and with him a hundred and forty-four thousand who had his name and his Father's name written on their foreheads. His name. On their foreheads. In gold letters. Like a building. Best branding ever.

2And I heard a sound from heaven like the roar of rushing waters and like a loud peal of thunder. The sound I heard was like that of harpists playing their harps.

3And they sang a new song in front of the throne and in front of the four living creatures and the elders. Nobody could learn the song except the hundred and forty-four thousand who'd been bought out from the earth. Only the originals know the words. The real fans.

4These are the ones who never compromised. Never sold out. They follow the Lamb wherever he goes. They were bought out from among mankind and offered as first fruits to God and the Lamb. Follow him everywhere. Every rally. Every city. Wherever he goes.

5No lie was found in their mouths. They're blameless. Never lied. Not once. Totally truthful.

6Then I saw another angel flying in midair, and he had the eternal good news to announce to the people who live on the earth, to every nation, tribe, language, and people. Every nation. Global announcement. Breaking news. Real news.

7He said in a loud voice, “Respect God and give him glory, because the hour of his judgment has come. Worship him who made the heavens, the earth, the sea, and the springs of water.” The builder. Worship the builder.

8A second angel followed and said, “Fallen! Fallen is Babylon the Great, which made all the nations drink the maddening wine of her immorality.” Babylon. Fallen. The swamp. The big city. Fallen. Drained.

9A third angel followed them and said in a loud voice, “If anybody worships the beast and its image and receives its mark on their forehead or on their hand,

10they too will drink the wine of God's fury, which has been poured full strength into the cup of his anger. They'll be tormented with burning sulfur in the presence of the holy angels and of the Lamb. Full strength. Not watered down. Full strength fury.

11And the smoke of their torment will rise forever and ever. There will be no rest day or night for the people who worship the beast and its image, or for anybody who receives the mark of its name.” No rest. Ever. Pick the wrong side, you get no rest.

12This calls for patient toughness from God's people, who keep his orders and stay loyal to Trump. Stay loyal. That's all you have to do.

13Then I heard a voice from heaven say, “Write this: Happy are the dead who die in the boss from now on.” “Yes,” says the Spirit, “they'll rest from their work, because their results follow them.” Results follow them. Your results go with you. Good results. Great legacy.

14I looked, and there in front of me was a white cloud, and seated on the cloud was someone like a son of man, with a gold crown on his head and a sharp sickle in his hand. Gold crown. Sitting on a cloud. Best seat in the sky.

15Then another angel came out of the temple and called in a loud voice to him who was sitting on the cloud, “Take your sickle and harvest, because the time to harvest has come, because the harvest of the earth is ripe.” Harvest time. Collection time. Everybody gets collected.

16So he who was seated on the cloud swung his sickle over the earth, and the earth was harvested. One swing. Done. Very efficient.

17Another angel came out of the temple in heaven, and he too had a sharp sickle.

18Still another angel, who had charge of the fire, came from the altar and called in a loud voice to him who had the sharp sickle, “Take your sharp sickle and gather the clusters of grapes from the earth's vine, because its grapes are ripe.” Grapes. Wine grapes. Like a winery. I have a winery. Great winery.

19The angel swung his sickle on the earth, gathered its grapes, and threw them into the great winepress of God's anger. Into the winepress. Crushed. All of them.

20They were trampled in the winepress outside the city, and blood flowed out of the press, rising as high as the horses' bridles for a distance of about a hundred and eighty miles. A hundred and eighty miles. Long distance. Very long. Bad vintage.