You’re sitting in the concert hall, having arrived a few minutes early.  You can hear the orchestra tuning up.  You may occasionally see the curtain move as someone or something moves behind it.  The lights are on, but you are in the dark about what’s happening on stage, except perhaps for a few educated guesses.

But then the time arrives, and the curtain goes up.  All that was once hidden is now open to view.

That’s the idea of revelation; it’s an unveiling, a making known of what has been hidden.

Theologians usually divide revelation into two categories—general, sometimes called natural, and special.  General revelation is called such because it is generally available.  It is not restricted to any one person or group.  It is sometimes called natural because it is based in nature.  “The heavens declare the glory of God” as the Psalmist says.  Human conscience gives us information about morality, telling us that there is a right and a wrong and pointing us to a standard for morals.

Special revelation is restricted in some way.  It may be a dream or vision given to only one person.  It may also be communicated by a secondary agent, as when Moses passed on to Israel what God had shown him on the mountain.  The preeminent form of special revelation is the personal revelation of God in Christ.  Special revelation is also the propositional communication of God to us in the Bible.

Revelation is the basis for all the theological enterprise.  Without revelation we have only religion; never theology.  Revelation is also the most hotly contested area of Christian theology.  Kill that and the rest withers away.