Literary (Mendlesohn 2003; Stableford 2003) and biblical scholars (Barr 2006; Henning 2020; Linton 2006; Mathewson 1992; Osborne 2004; Reddish 2020) agree on the hermeneutical importance of determining a text’s genre. It enables readers to classify one text with similar ones, and in so doing mediates the interpretation process (Osborne 2004:474). Even texts that defy genre classification become more sensible through this process of classification. For example, Mendlesohn (2003:1) notes that SF is ‘less a genre – a body of writing from which one can expect certain plot elements and specific tropes – than an ongoing discussion’. Regardless, readers of SF still bring certain expectations to the genre. These include, among others, a ‘sense of wonder’ (Mendlesohn 2003:3); consideration of ‘what if?’ or unintending consequences because of scientific advances and discoveries (Mendlesohn 2003:4); the ‘idea’ or an object, like a spaceship or planet, represented as the hero of the narrative (Mendlesohn 2003:4, 8–9); the grotesque mixed with a sense of wonder (Mendlesohn 2003:4; cf. also, Csicsery-Ronay 2002); and the so called ‘info-dump’ (Mendlesohn 2003:5). Individually, these elements do not classify a novel as SF, but taken together and presented in a certain conglomeration, they would constitute SF as a literary genre (Mendlesohn 2003; cf. also, Wolfe 2016, Lecture 1).

If, however, a reader misconstrues a text’s genre or is unaware of its implicit rules, misunderstanding is inevitable (Collins 1998:8). The SF genre is illustrative of the role such implicit rules play in determining how a genre functions. Having never read SF, a person would be baffled by how romantic fiction is employed in SF. In SF romance, the focus is not on ‘the intricacies of inter-human relationships’ but rather ‘about our relationship to the world and the universe’ (Mendlesohn 2003:9). It is a ‘romance of the universe […] SF protagonists fall in love with the macrocosm’ (Mendlesohn 2003:9). Such misunderstanding can usually be remedied by either immersing oneself in the literature, comparing, contrasting and extrapolating the specific genre rules. Or a more systematic approach can be taken to postulate a genre based on reading and analysing SF texts. The same holds for Revelation’s genre, which is usually taken as an apocalypse. The pivotal moments discussed next all aimed to address, in some way, the confusion and misunderstanding surrounding the genre of apocalypse.

Lücke (1852) introduced apokalyptische Litteratur and the label Apokalyptik into scholarly discussion. The methodology used by Lücke would be followed and refined in the future. According to Lücke (1852:61), Daniel was related to the prophetic literature but stood outside the canonical corpus of prophets. Lücke (1852:63) sees Daniel as the primary model for later apocalyptic writings, such as Enoch and Ezra. The conclusion drawn from this is that apocalyptic writings are to be distinguished from prophetic ones (Lücke 1852). Lücke continues to argue that Revelation is ‘not like other prophetic works’ but resembles other ancient apocalypses (Barr 2006:74). However, this distinction is not presented in such a way as to suggest a complete break with prophetic literature. Rather, while Christian apocalyptic writings represent a development beyond the prophetic tradition, they are seen as its fulfilment rather than its abandonment (Lücke 1852:213). Lücke’s work (1852) established important boundaries for subsequent research into apocalyptic literature.

Koch (1972) exemplifies a second trend in defining apocalyptic literature before the genre-decade. He structures his discussion into two parts (Koch 1972:23–33): the first explores apocalypse as a literary genre, while the second examines it as a historical movement.

Regarding the first, Koch (1972:24–28) identifies six features of apocalyptic:

This list of formal characteristics is followed by eight ‘moods and ideas’ illustrating apocalyptic as a historical movement (Koch 1972:28–33). These characteristics are:

Composing lists of traits to define a genre is not common in current research, and it is essential to note that Koch (1972) never intended this list to serve as a checklist. All of these characteristics are found in other writings, but what makes a writing an apocalypse is how they are combined (Koch 1972:33).

Koch (1972) and Lücke (1852) do not distinguish between apocalypse as a genre and worldview; both are labelled ‘apocalyptic’. This changed with Hanson’s (1979) The dawn of apocalyptic. Commenting on the increase in modern obsessive association of the end of the world with apocalyptic and apocalypses, Hanson (1979:3) cautions that ‘current interpretations of contemporary apocalyptic movements’ should not become ‘normative for our interpretation of ancient apocalyptic writings’. To address this call to caution, Hanson sets out to establish historical situated definitions for the terms apocalypse, apocalypticism and apocalyptic eschatology.

Apocalypse, the literary genre, is defined by Hanson (1976a:27, 1979:428) as a ‘revelation of future events by God through the mediation of an angel to a human servant’. Apocalypticism in turn is a ‘religious movement’ that encompasses the ‘overall phenomenon’ expressed in apocalypses (Hanson 1979:429). This movement aims to create a ‘symbolic universe’ in which the community ‘codifies its identity and interpretation of reality’ (Hanson 1976b:30). As such it is not possible to give ‘one formal cognitive definition of apocalypticism’ (Hanson 1976b:30), rather each writing should be read in its historical context. In discussing apocalyptic eschatology, Hanson makes a less rigid distinction between prophetic and apocalyptic eschatology than Lücke (1852) and later also Von Rad (1965:301, 308). Von Rad (1965:306) echoes Lücke’s (1852) view that there is a ‘great gulf which separates apocalyptic literature from prophecy’. Contrary to this view, Hanson (1979:11–12) sees prophetic and apocalyptic eschatology as representing a continuum. In doing so, Hanson establishes a clear connection between Israel’s prophetic and apocalyptic writings. Prophetic and apocalyptic eschatology is a religious perspective taken by a divinely inspired human who receives and announces a divine plan to Israel. The primary difference between prophetic and apocalyptic eschatology lies in their perspectives on history. The prophets encode prophetic eschatology in terms of ‘their nation’s history and the history of the world’ (Hanson 1979:11). Apocalyptic eschatology expresses a more pessimistic view of current conditions and history as a whole. This means the divine message is not encoded in terms of ‘plain history, real politics and human instrumentality’, but in otherworldly and futuristic terms (Hanson 1979:11–12). In short, apocalyptic eschatology ‘is neither a genre (apocalypse) nor a socioreligious movement (apocalypticism) but a religious perspective which views divine plans in relation to historical realities in a particular way’ (Hanson 1979:431).

The increasing precision in defining the genre apocalypse is evident in this overview, from Lücke (1852) to Hanson’s (1976a, 1976b, 1979) works. This precision reached its climax in the work produced during the genre decade.

Beginning in 1979, the Society of Biblical Literature’s (SBL) Forms and Genre project aimed to define apocalyptic literature. This work group’s efforts culminated in the publication of Semeia 14 and the postulation of the now widely accepted definition by Collins (1979) of an apocalypse being:

Along with this definition, a master paradigm was also postulated (Collins 1979:6–8) and further divisions of apocalypses into two subtypes: those featuring otherworldly journeys and those presenting a review of history. In a later article, Collins (2016:24; cf. also Collins 2020) summarises the master paradigm as containing ‘framing elements (form)’ and ‘patterned content’. The overall framing element of all apocalypses is the narrative framework and how this narrative is presented. That is, how the revelations are reported in an apocalypse, the this and otherworldly characters involved and the recipient’s reaction. Content distinguishes ‘between a temporal axis, describing the course of history, and a spatial axis, describing otherworldly places and beings’ (Collins 2016:24). Using this definition and master paradigm, a writing can be read and classified as being a literary type belonging to the genre apocalypse. Initially, this might seem like a repetition of Koch’s (1972) aim, but there is an important difference. As noted, the characteristics identified by Koch do not constitute all apocalypses, but rather how different elements are combined. In contrast, Semeia 14’s definition is ‘constitutive of all apocalypses and indicates the common core of the genre’ (Collins 1998:5).

The August 1979 Uppsala Colloquium on apocalypticism followed the publication of Semeia 14, which focused on apocalypticism as a worldview. The purpose of this Colloquium was to give a comprehensive survey of the situation in apocalyptic research, to put forth new thoughts and methods to analyse apocalyptic texts and to contribute to the stimulation of further research (Hellholm 1983:2). In addition to Jewish and Cristian texts, texts from Egypt, Akkadia and Persia were looked at. A consistent theme throughout this colloquium was the realisation of the importance of social situatedness in determining the function of apocalypses (cf. Bergman 1983; Collins 1983; Hartman 1983; Smith 1983). Prior to the publication of Uppsala’s papers, Rowland (1982) expresses the same view in his study. Rowland’s (1982:3, 9, 11, 13, 14, 28) minimalistic definition of apocalyptic literature is the revelation of ‘divine mysteries’. Although this revelation of divine mysteries is considered by Rowland (1982:49) as constituting a fixed genre type among Jewish apocalypses, he still accounts for the variations by noting that ‘the mode of revelation appears to be influenced very much by the situation and outlook of the particular author’ (Rowland 1982:52). This variation does not only influence the types of revelatory experiences but also what the function of each writing is (Rowland 1982:53–72).

The most controversial aspect of Semeia 14 was the omission of considering social function and setting in the definition (Collins 2014:4). This was not because the SBL work group deemed this unimportant. Rather, they worked from the assumption that the social setting and function would have to be determined for each apocalypse, especially in ancient literature, where ‘our knowledge of function and setting is often extremely hypothetical and cannot provide a firm basis for generic classification’ (Collins 1979:1–2). In Semeia 36 (Early Christian apocalypticism: Genre and social setting, 1986), the issue of function was addressed. Both Aune (1986) and Hellholm (1986) work with Revelation, using Semeia 14’s definition as a starting point. Hellholm (1986:27) adds to this definition that an apocalypse is ‘intended for a group in crisis with the purpose of exhortation and/or consolation using divine authority’. Aune (1986) provides a more expanded addition, noting that the function of an apocalypse is:

Yarbro Collins (1986:7), based on Aune and Hellholm’s additions, presents a succinct addition to Semeia 14’s definition that an apocalypse aim to ‘interpret present, earthly circumstances in light of the supernatural world and of the future, and to influence both the understanding and the behaviour of the audience employing divine authority’.

At the 1989 SBL meeting, the genre decade comes to a close, with a review of preceding works. The discussions from the meeting were published in Mysteries and revelations: Apocalyptic studies since the Uppsala colloquium, edited by Collins and Charlesworth (1991).

Since the end of the genre decade, considerable attention has been devoted to apocalyptic literature, and a critical evaluation will be presented in the final section of this article. However, initially, the influence of this research on considerations of Revelation’s genre will receive attention.

Considering that the genre label ‘apocalyptic’, applied to writings dating between 250 BCE and 250 AD, derives from the first word of Revelation, ἀποκάλυψις (Rv 1:1), one might assume that classifying Revelation as an apocalypse would be a foregone conclusion. However, the matter is not as simple as finding texts with this designation in itself and grouping those texts under the label ‘apocalypse’. Smith (1983:19), after reviewing uses of ἀποκαλύπτω and ἀποκάλυψις in the Septuagint (LXX), Greco-Roman literature, Pauline and Deutero-Pauline letters, concludes that ‘the literary form we call an apocalypse carries that title for the first time in the very late first or early second century A.D’ (cf. also, Aune 1997:12; Koester 2014:209; Witherington 2007:66). Even after this time, using ἀποκάλυψις as a type of classification label is problematic. Many texts are ‘labelled “apocalypses” or “revelations” in the manuscripts, but many are not’ but can plausibly be classified as such (Collins 2014:1). Thus, before turning to Revelation as an apocalypse, arguments against this classification need consideration.

According to Kallas (1967:69), Revelation contains certain typical apocalyptic elements, such as ‘weird’ and ‘grotesque’ symbols, as well as a complex representation of the heavenly world. However, these are all ‘accidental or secondary aspects of true apocalyptic’. The theodicy of a document is what makes it authentically apocalyptic for Kallas. True apocalyptic theodicy is where evil is a force that God opposes and eradicates from the world (Kallas 1967:71). To support his thesis, Kallas (1967:71–74) begins by discussing two ways of viewing the origin of suffering in Israel. One is that suffering originates with God with the intent to bring the sufferer to repentance. The other is that devotees suffer because of their faithfulness in God. Thus, suffering in the second sense originates from forces that oppose God. The afflictions suffered in the time of Antiochus Epiphanes (167–160 BCE) are typical of the second (1 Mc 1:60–64; 2 Mc 6:18–31; 7). Examining Revelation, Kallas (1967:76–78) notes that suffering will be eradicated by the imminent return of Christ (Rv 1:3; 20:10; 22:10), but that the source of suffering means that Revelation cannot be a true apocalypse. Suffering in Revelation ‘is the work of God’ (Kallas 1967:78). In the heavenly scene of Revelation 4–5, suffering, brought about by the opening of the seven seals, is brought about by the Lamb (Rv 5:5). Suffering originates not from God-opposing forces but from the throne of God. Even when Satan is introduced in Revelation 12–13, Satan is not the origin of suffering but a tool in the hands of God to inflict more suffering on the world. Kallas (1967:80) concludes that after enough suffering has been endured in the world, Satan and Rome, having served their divine purpose of bringing the church to repentance, are then cast into the lake of fire. Kallas concludes on this basis that Revelation cannot be a true apocalypse. One might not agree with Kallas’ view on theodicy in Revelation. Still, this raises important issues that fall outside the scope of this discussion, which will be addressed in a subsequent contribution (cf. Barr 2003a, 2003b).

Bruce W. Jones (1968), while noting the importance of Kallas’ (1967) work, notes that theodicy cannot be used as apocalyptic literature’s ‘real touchstone’. For Jones (1968:326), the touchstone of apocalyptic literature is the presence or absence of pseudonymity and by implication, the presence of vaticinium ex eventu prophecy. That is, a review of history as predictive prophecy received by the author of the apocalypse (Collins 1998:64). Because John of Patmos is not a pseudonym, Jones rejects its classification as apocalyptic. Jones is not alone in this. Mazzaferri (1989), arguing from a source-critical stance, classifies Revelation as a classic Old Testament prophetic book. Mazzaferri (1989:157–184) defines ‘classical apocalyptic’ as always written under a pseudonym. This allows the author to present the content as ‘pseudo-prophecy’ (i.e. vaticinium ex eventu prophecy). If there is no pseudonymity, Mazzaferri (1989:184) argues, then the ‘pseudo-prophecy’ would be inauthentic. Roloff (1993:3) argues along the same lines and also deems the lack of pseudonymity and vaticinium ex eventu prophecy as evidence that Revelation is not an apocalypse.

While these arguments are important to note, the current scholarly consensus is that Revelation belongs to the genre of apocalypse.

The genre of Revelation is often regarded as one of hybridity (Barr 2006; Collins 2016; Linton 2006; Osborne 2004; Paul 2018:28–29; Schreiner 2023:35), but this is not taken as evidence for excluding it from the genre of apocalypse. Linton (2006) notes that this feature makes Revelation unique among apocalypses, and Witherington (2007:32–33, 2014:216–245) sees hybridity as characteristic of apocalyptic literature. While this genre hybridity is an important consideration (Barr 2006; Linton 2006; Paul 2018), the focus here is on how the genre decade’s work influenced discussions on Revelation as an apocalypse.

Aune (1997:lxxviii–lxxxii), Koester (2014:104–107) and Osborne (2002:14) all work consciously with the definitions and refinements of the genre decade. In addition to defining form, content and function, Aune (1997:lxxxii) further utilises Semeia 14’s master paradigm to classify Relation as a Type 2b apocalypse, featuring an otherworldly journey with cosmic and/or political eschatology. Aune (1997:lxxxii–lxxxvi) illustrates Revelation’s resemblance to other apocalypses by highlighting, among other elements of the master paradigm, visions (Rv 10:1–11; 11:19–12:17), epiphanies (Rv 1:9–3:22), otherworldly mediator (Rv 1:2; 22:8–16), cosmogony (Rv 4:11; 10:6) and otherworldly regions (Rv 4:1–5:14; 7:9–17).

Like Aune, Koester (2014:104) begins with Semeia 14’s definition but differs from Aune in that he works more implicitly with the master paradigm. Nonetheless, this paradigm can be discerned when compared with the outline provided by Collins (1979:6–8). John’s revelation comes ‘from the unseen realm above’ mediated by heavenly beings in visionary and auditory experiences (Koester 2014:105; cf. Collins 1979:6). Agents of evil and their eradication occupy a central place in Revelation’s narrative (Koester 2014:105; cf. Collins 1979:6–7). Otherworldly elements, regions and beings play a central role in the unfolding of the narrative on the special axis. ‘Most vision cycles begin and end in the heavenly realm, and the decrees of God and actions of his associates affect what occurs on earth’ (Koester 2014:105; cf. Collins 1979:7–8). Koester (2014:107) explains Revelation’s lack of pseudonymity by referring to the communal context in which John writes. Because John is a communal prophet among the seven communities, he does not need to write in the name of past prophets. In addition, the mixed genre of Revelation also contributes to this lack of pseudonymity. As a letter, John identifies himself by name, which was typical of ancient letters (cf. Collins 1977). Semeia 36’s focus on function is also reflected in Koester understanding of an apocalypse as providing ‘perspectives on the world that transcend the usual boundaries of space and time so readers can see their present situation in light of God’s designs’. Both DeSilva (2018:790) and Paul (2020:38) come to similar conclusions on Revelation as a apocalypse.

Osborne (2004) in turn does not quote Semeia 14’s definition, but his definition of an apocalypse is clearly influenced by the works of Aune (1986), Collins (1979), Hellholm (1986), Rowland (1982) and Yarbro Collins (1986). Osborne (2002:14, 2004) defines apocalyptic as literature that:

Focusing on Revelation, Osborne (2002:14–15) notes the important role John’s otherworldly journeys play (Rv 4–5), the heavenly mediators (Rv 5:5; 7:13–14; 11:1–2; 17:6–18), the exhortation function of the book and partial dualism found therein (a similar amalgamation of the genre decade’s works are found in Harrington 2008:1–5; Reddish 2001:3–7; Talbert 1994:4).

Ian Paul (2018:30) presents a concise definition of Revelation as an apocalypse, which is ‘a revelation from God’. This echoes Rowland’s (1982) minimalist definition. Paul further agrees with DeSilva (2018:790) and Koester (2014:107) that the purpose of an apocalypses is to present a divine interpretation and ‘perspective on the world’ that would otherwise not be available (Paul 2018:30).

In Schreiner’s (2023) commentary, Aune’s (1997) extended definition serves as a starting point; however, the definitions of Semeia 14 and 36 form the basis of his discussion of Revelation as an apocalypse. Revelation is presented as a ‘narrative’ of Christ’s victory over the forces of evil. This revelation is mediated by ‘otherworldly beings’ and originates from a ‘transcendental reality’, thus making the ‘mysteries of the cosmos, hidden from ordinary mortals’, known to John, who communicates it to his communities (Schreiner 2023:40–41). Schreiner (2023:41) highlights the significance of the context of the communities to whom John writes, particularly their perception of reality, in his discussion of common apocalyptic features. Here, he agrees with Collins (2017:34–35) that listing features found in different works is not sufficient grounds for defining a genre, but such listings can be useful in discussing apocalyptic literature. The list provided by Schreiner (2023:41) includes historical dualism, visions, interpretation of visions, pseudonymity, symbolism, numerology, angelology, demonology, predicted woes, otherworldly journey, comic conflict and a narrative framework. All of these are typical of apocalyptic literature, as the preceding discussion has highlighted; still, at the same time, they are adopted, changed or absent because of John’s interpretative matrix of his revelation. This matrix is constituted by these communities belief in Jesus as the Messiah of the God of Israel and their situatedness in the Roman Empire (Schreiner 2023:46).

It is not only in recent commentaries that the influence of the genre decade is seen. In Ehrman’s (2023) Armageddon: What the Bible really says about the end, the form and content definitions, along with the shared common feature list, and the function of apocalypses are all noted. Ehrman (2023:111) reiterates what the genre decade set out to show, that Revelation ‘is not a sui generis work that requires unique principles of interpretation’. As an apocalypse, it agrees in genre with works like 1 Enoch, 2 Baruch, 4 Ezra and the Shepherd of Hermas. A ‘one-sentence’ definition of an apocalypse is a ‘first-person narrative of highly symbolic visionary experiences that reveal heavenly secrets to explain earthly realities’ (Ehrman 2023:111). While all of these apocalypses ‘share a number of key features […] each apocalypse does not necessarily have all of them’ (Ehrman 2023:119). Finally, the function of Revelation as an apocalypse is to reinterpret the experiences and hardships of the communities, showing them that, regardless of the suffering experienced by the chosen few, ‘God is in control’ (Ehrman 2023:120).

Many more works can be included in the preceding discussion, illustrating the same point that these paradigmatic scholarly works highlight: the continuous and abiding influence of the genre decade on defining the literary genre of apocalypse and using it as a hermeneutical tool to read Revelation as an apocalypse.