Editor's note: This article is a continuation of themes from James Summerhays's last article, “The Universal Story: Linking God's Epic with Heroes and Fantasy,” which stirred interest among Meridian readers. James is an editor with BYU Studies.

A great wonder appeared in heaven — a woman of surpassing beauty. She wore for her clothing the sun, under her feet was the moon, and a crown of twelve stars rested upon her head. Her enemy also appeared in the heavens: a great red dragon with seven heads and seven horns and seven crowns upon his heads.

The woman was carrying a child in her womb. She was in pain, ready to deliver. The great red dragon flew, pursuing her across the heaven, his great tail drawing a third part of the stars after him. The dragon landed and stood before the woman, waiting to devour her child after it was born. The woman delivered her child and fled into the wilderness, there to be nourished for more than a thousand years at a place prepared by God (Rev. 12:1–6).

In 1844, a temple was rising to God. The temple was clothed on all sides with sunstones. Along the base were moonstones, and wreathed around the top, acting as a crown to the temple, were stars of limestone. The people who built the temple fled into the wilderness, but built it again a century and a half later. The Nauvoo Temple, once destroyed by fire and whirlwind, arose once more: her clothing was the sun, at her feet was the moon, and a crown of stars encircled her head.

Many interpret the stars, moons, and suns on the temple as representing the three degrees of glory and nothing more. If that were so, the sunstones would be the highest, acting as emblems of the highest kingdom, the celestial. But at Nauvoo, the stars are the highest.

The Bride

Wandle Mace learned from Joseph Smith that the Nauvoo Temple's architecture was “a representation of the Church, the Bride, the Lamb's wife.” It was explained to him that the bride of the Lamb was the woman John saw, with the sun her raiment, the moon her dais, twelve stars her crown. The woman, Mace says, “is portrayed in the beautifully cut stone of this grand temple” (see Matthew S. McBride's recent House for the Most High: The Story of the Original Nauvoo Temple ).

The marriage symbol is fitting, for Christ is eternally married to the Church; he is forever bound to the woman. His greatest sacrifices take place within the marriage covenant.

The great red dragon knows that the bride of the Lamb is beautiful, delicate, attractive above all others; if left alone, this gentle maiden would be noticed and admired by all. So the dragon, Satan, the overlord of darkness who drew away from heaven a third of the stars or a third of the spirits, fights against the woman and her Bridegroom.

As in nearly every age, the dragon persecutes the Church with violence. The woman must flee into the wilderness.

But who is the child? He is something that grows and develops within the Church's womb; he is born only through great labor and pain; John sees that he is a “man child” — though tender and harmless, he is strong and wise, able to rule the nations (Revelation 12:5).

The interpretation has vexed scholars for centuries and still confuses them in modern times. Joseph Smith gives the inspired and simple answer: the woman gives birth to the kingdom of God (JST Revelation 12:7).

Joseph Smith is trying to tell us something by designing the Nauvoo Temple after the image of the woman. Perhaps a story, an allegory of sorts, loosely based on Revelation 12 and D&C 88, will help tie it together. The symbols in the allegory — the woman, the dragon, the man-child — will give insight into why the temple is the pinnacle of life, the apex of eternity.

The Allegory of the Wilderness War

The story begins as The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is again established on the earth in this, the last age of time. The woman, graceful and mild, has returned. But the woman is in a blighted land, a wanderer, a stranger, a nomad of the waste. And the woman has not yet delivered the kingdom of God.

The great red dragon fights against the Church, pursuing the Saints into a dark and severe vale. It is the last days; the final and dreadful wilderness war. We fight, but without armaments we cannot prevail against the great red dragon; it is futile, a delusion. So we flee, searching for some power, some weapon to overcome the dragon.

The wilderness is unforgiving. It is difficult to find our way. It is low, flat, lifeless; fallen timber lies in every direction. Ash and dust, dust and decay; deathly silence envelops the plain. It is this world — the valley of the dead.

But see! On the horizon of the shadowed wilderness arises a temple, ablaze and shaking with light. We rush forward with new hope and with brightness of faith to reach the temple haven. When there, we see the woman wearing a crown of stars and laboring to bring forth the child, the kingdom. We see the temple next to her, also adorned with stars, opening its doors and bringing out children born anew into the kingdom of God. The woman and the temple are one: they perform the selfsame work.

We enter the temple sanctuary and receive gifts and endowments; we are taught in the ways that Michael, the archangel, overcomes the dragon. Within the sanctum's gardened walls a transformation takes place within us: we are the temple, we are the woman, we are the child. All the symbols in this story are interwoven and interchangeable. Like the temple, the strength of holiness is our bulwark. Like the woman, we have the kingdom of God germinating within us. Like the child, we grow to become that kingdom, for there is no kingdom of God without its godly citizens.

Having completed our apprenticeship in the Sanctuary of Symbols, allowing its types and tokens to be emblazoned on our person, we leave the wilderness temple with shields and swords and powers. As the doors open, we are another Michael as it were; taut and true, ready to fight.

Stepping out, we see that the wilderness is aflame, the sky red with fire. The final battle has commenced; it is the great and last struggle in a war that started before the world was. It is called the “battle of the great God.” The dragon gathers “together his armies; even the hosts of hell,” to come and “battle against Michael and his armies” (D&C 88:113–14).

The dragon is frenzied. His seven heads with seven horns flail and thrash about in desperate fight. But by now, this is of little moment. Michael the archangel and his hosts have had long experience in fighting the dragon in all ages of existence. And if we have become the temple, we are more than ready to contend at his side. We have been anointed, endowed, and sealed; the garments of the priesthood protect us and our arms wield the sword of justice. Nothing can stop us, we happy warriors of light, we paladins of glory.

The Weapon that Slays the Dragon

As shown in my last article, we are quest-seekers that have come down from realms of glory to be tested on this wilderness we call earth. We are on a far-flung journey, striving to overcome the great obstacles placed before us. Darkness encompasses the land and the dragon seeks our destruction. The quest is by nature impossible to complete, if we go it alone.

The journey can only be finished if we have a tool, a weapon. The finest of weapons is the temple. Joseph Smith was inspired to design the Nauvoo Temple in such a way that it reminds us of the story in Revelation 12 about the woman and her fight against the dragon. The architecture suggests that without the temple, we cannot give birth to the kingdom of God; without the temple, we will be lost in this world's forbidding wilderness; without the temple and its armaments, the dragon cannot be overcome. There is no other way to do it. This is what Joseph is trying to tell us.