After these things I saw, and behold, a door opened in heaven, and the first voice which I heard as of a trumpet speaking with me, saying, Come up here, and I will shew thee the things which must take place after these things.
The seven letters to the churches are finished. Now a door stands open above, and the voice John first heard in chapter 1 calls him up. Commentators treat this verse as the hinge of the whole book. Here the history of the churches ends, and the prophetic visions begin.
The Lord had already told John to write in three parts (Revelation 1:19), and this verse marks where the third part starts.
Note verse 19 with care. It contains the Lord's own division of the book. John was to write (1) the vision he had just seen... Then (2) he was to write "the things that are," and (3) "the things which shall be hereafter"... Now in Revelation 4:1 the voice from heaven lifts John in spirit up to heaven, to show him "things which must take place after these things." So as we pass into Revelation 4, we begin the third section of the book. We say this without hesitation. Any explanation of the visions of this book that breaks this distinction, or ignores it, is bound to be faulty, if not plainly wrong.
The exact wording matters. Older translations end the verse with a vague "hereafter"; the ESV has "what must take place after this."
"Come up here, and I will show you" — not exactly "things which must be hereafter," as if the time were left vague and far off, but "the things which must be after these." ...The importance of this is that it binds what follows in the book to the end of the history of the seven churches.
"The first voice" is not the first in a coming series. It is one John already knows — and its location has changed.
The "first voice" here does not mean the first of the voices about to speak, as some have oddly thought. It means the voice John had already heard in Revelation 1 — the voice of Him who stood among the seven golden lampstands. It still addresses him like a trumpet, no longer from earth but from heaven. There was a door there, and the voice spoke from it. So this part of the book assumes that earth is done with for the moment, and the scene lies above.
The picture is precise, and it differs from a later vision in the same book.
"A door opened in Heaven" means you must enter heaven to understand prophecy. That is where all everlasting good begins. There the coming scene of millennial and eternal blessing is arranged and planned. And there, too, the preparatory judgments have their source. "A door opened in Heaven" let John pass in. "Heaven opened" is for the saints to pass out (Rev. 19:11).
This door is not a picture of how believers come near to God now.
It is not for drawing near into God's presence by faith: the Spirit of God never calls that the opening of a door. In Hebrews 10 we see the veil torn, and the believer even now draws near by faith, through the value of the blood of Christ. But here we have the ordinary picture of something one enters through.
Earth has a door too, and it is shut on Christ.
At the opening of these chapters we leave an earth that has shut its door on Christ. We find a door opened into heaven for those who belong to Christ, with an invitation to come in and pass through it. Passing through, we leave behind a scene where people make nothing of Christ. We find ourselves in a scene where Christ is all in all.
Commentators see more than a change of viewpoint here. They read John's call upward as a picture of the church's removal, and they point to a silence in the chapters that follow.
Revelation 3 ends with "the churches." These two words do not appear again until Revelation 22:16. That is, the churches are absent right through the unfolding of "the things which must be hereafter." ...The catching up of John into heaven is a symbol of the rapture of the church, as set out in 1 Thessalonians 4:17. From this point on we see the vision of things that take place on earth after the church is gone.
The call up is also the condition for understanding what follows. Where you stand decides what you see.
The first thought this chapter suggests is this. Heaven is the only true place from which to look at the things that come to pass after the seven churches. It is not upon and from the earth that we can rightly judge of these events. It is from above that we must learn and look; if we are earthly-minded, we shall never understand them. Suppose I stay on the level of the scene where the judgments are falling. Then I shall try to make the best of present things and push the judgments off. I am not entering in by the door opened in heaven.
- Door — Heaven opens inward here so John can pass in; the later vision opens outward so the saints can come out.
- Voice — The trumpet-like voice of chapter 1 now speaks from above, not from earth. Earth is done with for the moment.
- Divider — "What must take place after this" opens the third of the Lord's own three divisions. Ignore it, and you will read the rest of the book wrongly.
- Departure — John's call upward pictures the church's removal. The book does not name the churches again until its final chapter.
- Direction — You can judge prophecy only from above. Stay on earth's level, and you will try to explain the judgments away.
Immediately I became in [the] Spirit; and behold, a throne stood in the heaven, and upon the throne one sitting,
A voice has called John up through an open door in heaven. The scene shifts from the churches on earth to the courts above, and the first thing he sees there is a throne.
John says nothing about his body going anywhere. The Spirit secured what he saw.
Here we simply see the prophet caught up. There is no idea of a bodily taking up into these heavenly scenes, such as is suggested in the case of the apostle Paul... What we are to be occupied with is what he saw and heard... Being in the Spirit assures us that the Spirit was, as it were, eyes and ears to him, so that all was secured and perfect. What he was as man was to be no hindrance to this. When God would reveal, He takes perfect care that no "human element" spoils the revelation.
This power was not John's own, and it did not rest on him without a break.
The vision of Christ as Son of Man in glory among the seven golden lamps was too much for human eyes. For that time the Spirit had complete control of the seer; he lived and moved in another kind of existence... But by its nature this cannot last. The state had lapsed. Now he must see and write fresh visions of the future... His fitness to see and grasp the coming prophetic scene was not in himself, but in a power outside the realm of nature.
Writers weigh the word "set" differently. Some hear firmness in it:
The word "stood," or set, tells us how stable that government is; "the Heaven" fixes the exact seat of royal authority. What a contrast to the shaky thrones of earth!... It is the pledge that the decree of the Eternal will compel obedience from every created being.
Others read the word as marking a fresh position taken up for this new stage:
Finding a throne placed, or set there, shows instead that God takes up a particular position or relationship. This matches exactly what the voice said to John: "Come up here, and I will show you what must happen after these things." God may always be on a throne in a general sense... But the throne of government is a special relationship, known as He reveals it.
Every rebellion since the fall has aimed at this seat.
The throne is the emblem of rule and authority: the guarantee for order, blessing, and security throughout the universe. The fall was really a challenge to the throne. Sin is rebellion against the throne. Unbelief denies that the throne exists, pride reaches for the throne, and the devil defies the throne. How good it is, then, after thousands of years of rebellion, to pass into heaven and find the throne "set in heaven," unshaken, unmoved, and immovable.
John never names the one on the throne.
The main object seen is God and His throne — His power ruling in providence. The throne is not linked with priesthood, but with the power that divine government comes from. God would establish souls in the thought that He governs, even in the middle of all the wickedness that was still to come... It is the throne of One who did not need to be named, but who lets His glory be seen as far as a creature can see it.
The tense of the verb matters too. One is seated — not one who once sat:
On the throne is one sitting, and only one. That means there will be no change of kings, no handing over of sovereign power, no succession. It says "sitting," not "sat" — the throne is never empty and never between rulers.
What comes out of the throne shows what kind of throne it is.
In heaven he sees a throne set, and this, from its effects and surroundings, is a judicial throne. It is not at all the same character of the throne of God as we know and approach now. We come boldly to the throne and find grace and mercy to help in time of need. But we find nothing of the sort here, either in the throne or in what comes out of it.
John's move from earth to heaven pictures more than his own experience.
John's own position changed. He left earthly scenes for heavenly, so that he could watch from there how God deals with the earth in judgment... Revelation 3 ends with "the churches," and those two words do not appear again until Revelation 22:16... John's catching up into heaven pictures the rapture of the church, as described in 1 Thessalonians 4:17. From this point on, the vision shows things that happen on earth after the church is gone.
- Call. A voice says "Come up," and the Spirit answers at once. John's fitness to see came from a power outside nature, not from himself.
- Vessel. Being "in the Spirit" secures the vision, not John's body; God allows no human element to spoil what He reveals.
- Throne. The first thing John sees is a seat of rule, unshaken after thousands of years of rebellion aimed straight at it.
- Occupant. One is sitting — unnamed, unchanging, with no succession, no vacancy, no interruption of His rule.
- Character. This throne governs and judges. It is not the throne where we now find grace and mercy in time of need, so John had to leave earth to see it.
and he [that was] sitting like in appearance to a stone [of] jasper and a sardius, and a rainbow round the throne like in appearance to an emerald.
John sees a throne in heaven with Someone seated on it, and that Person is never named or described. Instead we get three images — two gemstones and a rainbow — and each says something about God as He is about to deal with the earth.
The kind of seat matters, and one writer sets out the contrast:
It is not said to be a golden throne, as in the most holy place, whether of the tabernacle or of the temple. That was the gold mercy seat with its sprinkled blood, a way for men to draw near through sacrifice... The golden throne, with atoning blood on it and before it, is a throne of grace. It shows what God can be and is to man, where grace reigns through righteousness, leading to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. The throne now set in heaven was judicial. It was not the witness of divine grace, though it is always, no doubt, the throne of divine majesty.
The stones show God's glory in government, a brightness the world has not yet seen:
This glorious Person is not described. Instead precious stones display the radiance of divine glory in government. That glory shows itself in heaven, but not yet on earth. On earth we see how badly man governs, and how patient God is. If that radiance had shone out on a sinful world, it would have meant judgment for all.
What John sees is not God's essential glory, but a glory He can share with His creatures:
It is quite evident that this cannot be the essential glory of God. It means it was not human glory but divine glory. Some of what God is He can give to His creatures. Some of it He cannot share at all. The glory meant here is divine glory, not creature glory. It takes nothing from His majesty. It reflects it.
The same stone reappears in John's description of the heavenly city:
Jasper appears three times in the description of the city. The only other place the word appears in the book is the description of the One who sits on the throne in Revelation 4:3. What is descriptive of God is descriptive of the city.
The second stone is fiery red. The ESV calls it carnelian. Some read it as strengthening the throne's severity:
The sardius is fiery red. The jasper was not there to soften that, but to strengthen the judicial appearance of the glory of the One who sat at the centre of the scene — not on the mercy seat, but on the throne.
Others read the red as blood, matched with the searching light of God:
The jasper is the clear, flawless crystal — the diamond. But mixed with that pure and burning light was the blood-red ray of the sardius... "God is light, and in Him is no darkness at all." There is the clear crystal shining. If that had been all, no one could have endured its searching brightness. But there follows a fear-dispelling, peace-giving word: "The blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin."
One writer reads the bow as a pledge God refuses to forget:
Here the rainbow is God's remembrance of His covenant with the earth... God is going to pour out judgments on the earth and on those who were responsible to be His people. But He takes pains to show that, before a single judgment falls, there is mercy in store... The rainbow was the witness that God had not let His ancient word slip; He could not forget it.
The order matters as much as the sign:
The rainbow comes after the storm, just as God's promise of blessing follows once the judgment of the flood is past. The rainbow encircling the throne is the sure sign that beyond the judgment of the nations there will be blessing for the earth.
Two things set this bow apart: its shape and its colour.
The complete, unbroken circle round the throne proclaims the truth, "His steadfast love endures forever."... We rarely see it as a complete circle; usually it is an arch, or half-circle... Instead of the mix of colours we expect in a rainbow, the heavenly one over the throne has "the appearance of an emerald." Green is the characteristic colour of the plant world, and the only colour that never tires the eye. That is the colour chosen for the rainbow John saw.
- Throne — not the golden mercy seat sprinkled with blood, but a judicial seat of government. The setting is God ruling, not God inviting.
- Jasper — the glory of God in a form He can share. The same stone later describes the heavenly city, so what is true of Him becomes true of His people.
- Sardius — commentators differ. Some read the fiery red as deepening the throne's severity. Others see the blood that lets sinners stand in that light.
- Rainbow — the sign given after the flood. It circles the throne before one judgment falls, so mercy is on record in advance.
- Emerald — a full circle, not a half arch, and coloured to rest the eye. Judgment has a limit, and blessing for the earth lies beyond it.
And round the throne twenty-four thrones, and on the thrones twenty-four elders sitting, clothed with white garments; and on their heads golden crowns.
John sees God's throne. Around it stand twenty-four more thrones, and every one is taken. Who are these crowned elders in white? That question has followed readers ever since.
The elders are not spirits. They sit, they wear robes, they wear crowns — things that belong to people with bodies again.
The thrones and crowns point to a royal company of redeemed and glorified saints in heaven. They are there after the resurrection, not before (1 Cor. 15:23). The idea of spirits sitting, clothed and crowned, makes no sense, and Scripture never speaks that way. Twenty-four thrones stand grouped around the vast throne in heaven. The measureless throne of the Eternal gives them their authority and holds them steady. "Seats," as in the older Authorised Version, is a weak and inadequate thought. "Throne" belongs to a royal person; "seat" belongs to a private one.
The word "elders" itself carries weight. It describes what these people have become, not how old they once were.
The word "elders" points to spiritual maturity. No longer do they "know in part"; they understand the mind of heaven. They are not seen as departed spirits, but in bodies of glory. Their white garments speak of their priestly character (Ex. 28:39-43). On their heads are "golden crowns," speaking of their royal character. They have finished their journey on earth, where they suffered for Christ. Now they wear crowns to reign with Christ.
The number is not a round figure. It goes back to how King David organised the priests.
1 Chronicles 24:1-4 gives the reason for the number twenty-four. When David divided the priests into groups, he found twenty-four heads of the priestly families, so there were twenty-four groups. Those twenty-four heads therefore stood for the whole priesthood. In the same way — the principle is known in Scripture — the twenty-four elders stand for the saints of this present time, and also for all who are Christ's and share in the first resurrection. Always remember this. Only believers since Pentecost are members of the body of Christ. Yet on His return He will call out of their graves all the saints of every earlier age.
One detail settles it: the thrones. Angels fill Scripture, but never seated like this.
We never hear of angels seated on thrones. Angels never govern. God made them to serve, not to reign, and they never rise above service. God made man to rule, though of course under God. Even the first man was made to govern. When God made him He said, "Let them have dominion." Man's place was not merely to do His will.
Hamilton Smith points to the next chapter.
The elders do not represent angelic beings. That is clear from Revelation 5:11, where we find the angels described as a separate company standing around the elders.
They wear two things, and each stands for a different righteousness.
In practice they had shown righteousness. But divine righteousness alone had brought them there and dealt with them in this way. They did not lack the witness of righteousness in their ways and daily life on earth. Nor are they without the answer to it now in heaven. They are also seen clothed in white garments — a full acknowledgment of the saints' own righteousness, as the gold is of God's righteousness… Only one righteousness can fit a sinner to stand before Him in heaven: the righteousness of God, founded on the Lord Jesus and His infinite redemption.
Judgments pour out of the throne they surround. They do not flinch.
Look at the twenty-four elders. They sit on thrones around the throne that those judgments pour out of, in perfect peace. That shows the perfect peace we as believers are brought into. They are close to the throne, all around the throne that everything flows from. Yet they are not alarmed at all — no disturbance, no trembling. They are linked with the very throne the judgments come from. Then note another thing. They are sitting, not even here seen standing, but sitting in perfect peace.
The elders appear here for the first time. Later they drop out of sight, and a new name takes their place.
The elders were first mentioned in Revelation 4:4… As soon as we begin "the things which shall be hereafter," in Revelation 4, the churches disappear, and the elders in heaven take their place. But in our chapter the church is acknowledged as the wife of the Lamb, and in the glory of this relationship the "elders" disappear.
- A name. "Elders" points to maturity, not age — people who no longer know in part, but understand the mind of heaven.
- A number. Twenty-four echoes David's twenty-four heads of priestly families. The group stands for the whole redeemed priesthood, from every age, raised at Christ's return.
- A throne. Not "seats" but thrones. That means royalty, and it is why commentators rule out angels. Angels serve; they never reign.
- A robe. The white robe owns the righteousness seen in their own lives. The gold crown owns the righteousness of God that brought them there.
- A rest. They sit unmoved while judgment pours out of the throne they surround. That settled peace is the believer's own place before God.
And out of the throne go forth lightnings, and voices, and thunders; and seven lamps of fire, burning before the throne, which are the seven Spirits of God;
John sees an open door in heaven, and then a throne. This verse shows what comes out of that throne. The storm signs and the burning lamps answer one question: what is this throne about to do?
Here the throne looks nothing like the throne believers approach today. These writers quote an older translation: "voices" where the ESV has "rumblings," "lamps" where it has "torches." One writer makes the contrast a question:
"Out of the throne proceeded lightnings and thunderings and voices." Do thunderings and lightnings and voices come out of the throne of God at this present time?... Certainly not. The throne of God now is a throne of grace, and we come to it boldly (Heb. 4). It would be impossible for man here below to come boldly to a throne out of which proceed thunderings and lightnings and voices.
What flows out of a throne tells you what time it is:
Lightnings and thunderings go with judgment. They are not symbols of mercy and grace. Today mercy flows from a throne of grace; in the millennial day a river of water, carrying blessing to the earth, will flow from the throne of God and the Lamb. Between the end of the day of grace and the beginning of the Kingdom glory comes a solemn interval. In it the throne will be judging the nations, and lightnings and thunderings are a fitting picture.
So when does this scene take place? The answer comes by ruling out the alternatives:
It is clear that the lightnings and thunderings suit neither the day of grace nor the millennial state... On the other hand, there are clearly saints on earth, while the twenty-four elders are before the throne above. So it is neither the millennial state nor the present one. It is an unusual period in between. There the throne is not one of grace as now, nor of displayed glory as later. It is clothed with what has rightly been called a Sinai character of awful majesty. It is judicial.
The verse names the lamps as the seven Spirits of God. Does that mean seven different Spirits? The lampstand in the tabernacle answers:
The lampstand had seven stems, showing the many-sided activity of the Holy Spirit in His testimony to Christ... In Eph. 4:4 we are told plainly, "There is... one Spirit." Though the lampstand had seven branches, there was only ONE lampstand. Seven lamps burning, yet only one light shining through them all.
Why picture the Spirit this way?
Here the Holy Spirit does not appear in the gracious power that marks His relationship to the church. He appears in governmental judgment, because the subject is a sinful, guilty world — the creature, and not the new creation.
Lamps give light; these lamps are lamps of fire. Fire has a settled meaning in Scripture:
Here it is seven lamps of fire burning, not on the earth, but before the throne. Fire expresses the holiness of God in judgment, as it always does. So the judgments God is about to carry out will be in the perfection of the power of the Spirit. They will match the unchanging standard of the holiness of the divine nature.
Lamps do what light always does — they expose:
Everything inconsistent with the absolute purity of the throne must be judged... "Those seven lamps of fire will search out and expose everything contrary to the holy nature of God."
Revelation uses the number seven for the Spirit in more than one picture, and where the symbol stands changes its meaning:
In the book of Revelation, the seven spirits, the seven lamps and the seven eyes are one and the same, but with different meanings. In Revelation 4:5... we see the fullness of the Spirit throwing light on, and bringing into judgment, whatever rebels against God's government on earth. In Rev. 5:6 the Lamb with "seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven Spirits of God sent out into all the earth" means Christ with the fullness of His knowledge, joined to the fullness of His power — the seven horns — to carry out God's plans for the earth.
- Throne. What comes out of a throne shows its character. Grace flows from it now. A river of blessing will flow from it in the kingdom. Here lightnings and thunderings announce judgment.
- Timing. This scene fits neither the present day of grace nor the coming kingdom. It belongs to an interval between them, marked by a Sinai-like majesty.
- Spirit. The seven lamps are the seven Spirits of God. That is not seven persons. It is the one Spirit working in many ways, as one lampstand carried seven burning branches.
- Fire. Fire stands for the holiness of God in judgment. God will carry out the coming judgments in the full power of the Spirit, by the standard of His own holy nature.
- Exposure. Nothing impure can stand before that throne. The lamps search out and expose whatever opposes God. Today the same throne is a throne of grace, and we can come to it boldly.
and before the throne, as a glass sea, like crystal. And in the midst of the throne, and around the throne, four living creatures, full of eyes, before and behind;
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
and the first living creature like a lion, and the second living creature like a calf, and the third living creature having the face as of a man, and the fourth living creature like a flying eagle.
John sees four living creatures around God's throne in heaven. Their faces come from the highest ranks of creation. Why four? What does each face mean? And who are they?
The number itself carries meaning. One writer links four to the worldwide reach of God's rule:
Why "four" living ones? Because "four" represents the attributes of God in judicial dealing with man and creation. It is the mark of the world and of the human race, and it appears whenever everything everywhere is in view. Judgment is about to visit the whole scene under heaven; hence the number "four." So in the four living creatures grouped together we have a complete and perfect view of God's judicial government. The symbols are taken from the most prominent animals, not from those in the sea.
Each figure carries a quality. Where the ESV has "ox," older translations read "calf" — the word these writers use. One of them finds firmness even in the ox's foot:
The lion expresses strength, royal power. Jesus is the Lion of Judah. The likeness to a calf brings to mind firmness, the solid footing that belongs to the ox. The likeness to a man's face shows intelligence. The flying eagle stands for speed in judgment. It is always God in the creation. This points back to Ezekiel 1; but in Ezekiel every living creature had four faces, showing the power of providence, which sees all and acts on earth.
Each of the four is the best in its own class. Together they overpower every enemy:
In every sphere in the whole creation these beings are supreme. Man is supreme in intelligence. The lion is supreme among wild beasts. People count the ox as the greatest burden bearer, and the eagle as the swiftest and highest flyer… Satan and rebellious men have great intelligence, and they use it against God. But here are beings who excel in intelligence. Whatever the power, the endurance, or the speed with which the enemies move toward their goals, these living creatures will wear them down. They will out-think, out-last, out-wear and out-distance every hostile power, and they will never fail to carry out every detail of the will of God in the universe.
Some older English versions call them "beasts." One writer says that word is wrong:
The translation "beasts," as in the older common version, is wrong and misleading. It drags the human element down to the level of an animal, for the third living being has the face of a man. People constantly apply the word to animals, but it simply means (as the word animal itself does) "a living being."
Why do they stand so close? One writer answers from their role:
It seems the living creatures stand so near because they are the executive arm of judgment. Providential judgments will then be in progress. They characterize the action of the throne.
Commentators differ. One holds that the symbol shows a role, not fixed persons:
From this it follows that the four living creatures might be at one time angels, at another saints. The symbol shows the character of the attributes in action more than the persons entrusted with these judgments.
Another rules angels out, because of where the creatures stand:
These cannot be angels, for no angel is in the midst of the throne of God. Scripture says the Lamb is there (Rev. 5:6), for the Lamb is Himself God, and God gives His glory to no other. The living creatures stand for four distinct principles of God's government — living, vital principles at work in all His works.
Many have read the four figures as a portrait of Christ in the four Gospel accounts:
Here at once we see a difference between the first three and the fourth, which is the bird of heaven. As the Western interpreters saw, the eagle answers to the Gospel of John; the kingly lion to Matthew; the working ox to Mark; and the face of a man to Luke — the Gospel of His Manhood.
The pairings are not agreed. An older list matched them another way:
Irenaeus saw this as early as A.D. 120–200. He compared the Gospels with the four cherubim in Revelation. Several of the old books show a man with Matthew; a lion with Mark; an ox with Luke; and an eagle with John.
- Four = everywhere. Four is the mark of the world and the whole human race. So the four faces give a complete picture of God's judicial government.
- Four = qualities. Lion for royal strength, calf for firmness, man's face for intelligence, flying eagle for speed of judgment.
- Four = supremacy. Each creature is first in its own class. Together they out-think, out-last, out-wear and out-distance every opposing power.
- Four = position. They stand nearest the throne because they carry out its judgments. They show how the throne acts.
- Four = Christ. Many read the same faces in the four Gospel portraits of Christ. Commentators differ on which face fits which Gospel.
And the four living creatures, each one of them having respectively six wings; round and within they are full of eyes; and they cease not day and night saying, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, who was, and who is, and who is to come.
John sees a throne in heaven. Around it stand four living creatures who never stop speaking. Their cry raises two questions: who are these creatures, and why is the holiness of God the one thing they say?
Commentators read these creatures as a picture of how God rules the earth.
The Apostle sees four living creatures in the middle of the throne and around it. They seem to be symbols of those who carry out the government of God. The lion, the calf, the face like a man, and the flying eagle may show that God's government will be marked by strength, firmness, intelligence, and speed. They never stop saying, "Holy, holy, holy." They testify that the government of God is holy, unstoppable in power, and unchangeable in character.
Commentators differ. What the creatures do elsewhere in the book argues against treating them as symbols only.
We judge that they are created beings, and not mere symbolic expressions of the attributes of God. They give thanks to God. They fall down. They hand the bowls to the angels. And they correspond so closely to the seraphim of Isaiah, the living creatures of Ezekiel, and the cherubim that guarded the tree of life with a flaming sword.
Before the cry, John notes two things: the creatures are full of eyes, and each has six wings.
The picture is full of meaning. It stands for hidden, instinctive intelligence — seeing everything in front and behind. Nothing escapes the eye of God and the power of God. Where man cannot see, He sees. Each of them had six wings, as in Ezekiel, and this means they carry out God's plans and purposes quickly. They cry, "Holy, holy, holy." This is something distinct from worship. God is celebrated here in power and glory.
The threefold cry is not new. Isaiah saw beings called seraphim who said the same thing.
The living creatures are like the seraphim in two ways: the number of wings, and the threefold cry of worship (compare Isaiah 6). The works of God praise Him. But deeper still, His attributes declare His holy, holy, holy nature — what He is in Himself. The very powers that carry out the righteous decisions of the throne here glorify Him in His divine Being.
"Lord God Almighty" stacks three titles together. One familiar name is missing from the list.
We still have here all the names of God except one — the name that concerns the church, Father. He is Lord God Almighty, Eternal. These are the names God has used to reveal Himself in every age. With the redeemed now He takes the name of Father. We have all that God has been on the earth with His people, and nothing else.
The third title, "Almighty," goes back to what God said to Abraham.
The throne in Revelation 4 is that of the LORD God Almighty (Jehovah, Elohim, Shaddai). As to Shaddai, we read in Genesis 17:1, "I am God Almighty; walk before me, and be blameless." Shaddai means almighty in resources rather than almighty in the abstract. Abraham proved that well, Israel proved it, and every homeless pilgrim now may prove it too.
The verse closes with past, present and future. Their order is not accidental.
"Which is" implies independent, unchangeable existence. "Which was" points to Jehovah's relation to the past. "Which is to come" shows His connection with the future. Revelation 4:8 reverses the order: "which was" comes before "which is." Chapter 4 looks at the government of the whole earth, and not that of Israel only, so the living creatures say "which was" first. It is a question of time. The change also hints that Jehovah's past deeds of power are a pledge. Eternal existence and almighty power are not idle attributes in the divine Being. He exercises them through all ages and in all circumstances.
The same cry once left Isaiah distressed. The elders around this throne hear it and react another way.
The elders are seen in holy calm. Even the threefold "Holy" of the living creatures does not dismay them, though a similar cry distressed Isaiah so long ago. They are in the presence of God on the ground of redeeming Blood, and they know it. Judgment must come, for the patience of God is now at an end. But judgment means nothing for those whose hope and confidence is the Blood of the Lamb.
- Government — Commentators read the four living creatures as symbols of God's rule over the earth: strength, firmness, intelligence, and speed. Others hold that they are created beings.
- Sight — Being full of eyes means nothing escapes Him. Where man cannot see, He sees.
- Holiness — The threefold cry echoes Isaiah's seraphim. It celebrates not what God does, but what He is in Himself.
- Names — Lord, God, Almighty are the titles God used with people on earth, and He holds them past, present and future. "Father," the name the church knows, is absent here.
- Rest — The creatures never stop, and the elders never tremble. The same holiness that distressed Isaiah leaves them calm. They stand there on the ground of redeeming blood.
And when the living creatures shall give glory and honour and thanksgiving to him that sits upon the throne, who lives to the ages of ages,
Chapter 4 shows John an open door in heaven and a throne. Crowned elders sit around it, and four living creatures are nearest to it. Verse 9 tells us what those creatures give to the One on the throne, and their praise sets the whole scene in motion.
Commentators read the living creatures as symbols of how God governs His creation. Their praise rises out of what they see.
Ezekiel 1, Revelation 4 and Revelation 5 are records of visions given to prophets. In them the living creatures seem to be symbols of how God acts in governing creation. God's ways have the strength of the lion, the endurance of the ox, the intelligence of a man, and the speed and height of an eagle. The living creatures are also "full of eyes," not only in front and behind, but within as well. They search all the future, all the past, and the deep inner secrets of God's ways. So they add to His praise, giving glory and honour and thanks to Him without pause, declaring Him three times Holy, the One who lives for ever and ever.
Glory, honour and thanks come as a set of three, matching the threefold "Holy" just before. Their words also differ from the words of the elders that follow.
Each living creature is itself a symbol of one or more of God's attributes. Now the four join together, before we see them acting in government, and give Him the glory, honour and thanks due to His Name. They have already announced His essential purity by saying the word "Holy" three times. Now their praise (v. 9), like that of the elders (v. 11), comes in three parts. One more thing marks off the deeper worship of the elders from that of the living creatures. The elders speak to God directly, as "You"; the living creatures speak about God as "Him." Notice this carefully. The living creatures stand here as symbols of the throne's judicial authority. Whoever the instruments are, angels or men, all must turn to Him in increased power and fullness.
That gap between speaking about God and speaking to Him goes deep. It comes down to redemption.
Someone has said "that the living creatures only celebrate and declare; the elders worship with understanding." All God's works will praise Him. But only the redeemed have the mind of Christ. Only they can enter into the things of God through the Holy Spirit and share them with Him, whether in grace or in judgment.
This title marks out a life that never fades. It holds steady while everything else changes.
He still has all the Old Testament names: Jehovah, Elohim, Shaddai. His attributes now celebrate His full name, as the Holy One who lives for ever and ever. His power and His being never fade away, unlike man, who at his best is empty. Through all changes these names remained true.
The chapter gives this One no personal name. That silence teaches something.
This worship is not addressed to the Father, but to the God of creation and providence. In this chapter Jesus is never named or seen on His own. Yet in creation He is the person of the Godhead who works; for "all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together." (Col. 1:16-17.) So the One worshipped here is not the Father as distinct from the Son. It is God the Creator — Father, Son, and Spirit.
Judgment from that throne had not moved the crowned elders. Verse 9 is what moves them.
Terror did not disturb them at all. Judgment does not shake them from their thrones. But when those living creatures give glory and honour and thanks to Him who sits on the throne, the twenty-four elders fall down. The moment the ones who carry out judgment give honour to Him who sits on the throne, the elders worship. What satisfaction in God this shows — what certainty that sin was at an end! He is certainly going to judge, but He will not judge those who are made His righteousness in Christ.
- Seeing. The living creatures are full of eyes, in front, behind and within. They take in all of God's ways, past and future. That sight feeds their praise.
- Saying. What they see, they declare: glory, honour and thanks. The three match their threefold "Holy." They speak about God, not to Him.
- The One addressed. Not the Father as distinct from the Son, but God the Creator — Father, Son and Spirit. His life never fades, and He stays the same through every change.
- Setting off worship. Judgment from the throne left the crowned elders seated. Honour given to God brings them off their thrones and onto their faces.
- The difference. The living creatures celebrate and declare. The redeemed worship with understanding, because only they have the mind of Christ.
the twenty-four elders shall fall before him that sits upon the throne, and do homage to him that lives to the ages of ages; and shall cast their crowns before the throne, saying,
Around the throne John sees twenty-four crowned figures on thrones of their own. At one moment they leave those thrones, fall to the floor, and throw their crowns down in front of God. Why would anyone give up an honour God Himself had handed them? And who are these crowned worshippers?
Gold crowns and thrones set this company apart. One writer links the number twenty-four to the twenty-four divisions of Israel's priests, making the group royal and priestly at once.
John saw thrones filled with twenty-four elders, the chiefs of the twenty-four divisions of the priesthood. They exercised priestly functions in Revelation 5:8. But they are a royal priesthood also; they wear crowns of gold and sit on thrones; and their clothing matches. Can there be a doubt that they are the glorified saints?
Their worship has content. One writer sets out what they bow before, and what they put down as they bow.
He is the Holy One who lives forever and ever. He has no passing power or being, as man has, who at his best is vanity. And the saints here fall down before the throne. They bow before His place in glory, and worship Him in His endless being. They lay down their given glory before His supreme and proper glory, giving all glory to Him alone, as alone worthy of it.
Notice where the crowns land: in front of the throne. One writer names the source of their dignity, and the ground of this worship.
The elders fall down before HIM whom they love and revere. They cast their crowns before the THRONE, recognising where their royal dignity comes from and what keeps it. God's glory as Creator is the ground of the elders' worship here. It rests on knowing God — what He is in His own Being, and as Creator and Sustainer of the universe. The worship in the next chapter is founded on redemption by blood, and so the Lamb becomes the central figure.
Seen from outside, throwing away a badge of honour looks like loss. One writer admits it seems strange, then says the heart that knows the Lord needs no command.
What were they? A rightful privilege given to be worn in front of everyone's eyes as a witness to their right to be kings and priests. The thought of a crown can appeal to the natural mind of man. But "casting them down" seems a strange thing. It means throwing off the badge of our link with the Lord Jesus Christ. But it is not strange to the heart that knows the Lord Jesus, that knows God. When He brings us into the glory, will it be a word of command to cast our crowns before Him? It will be a word springing from the very depths of the heart.
The elders lose nothing here. One writer sets their gladness against the pride of the natural heart.
The saint in glory is glad there should be something above himself there. He can strip himself of glory so that the Lord should have it all. What a contrast to the spirit of unbelief in the heart that does not like this! The pride of the heart cannot bear anything above it. But the saint in light is glad that Christ should have all the glory.
For these elders the question of judgment is already settled. One writer shows what does draw them off their thrones.
As far as judgment goes, the cross met every demand of righteousness. If there had been any sin left unremoved, oh, what trouble there would have been among all the twenty-four! But no; they sit in perfect peace on their thrones. But when His holiness is in view, they fall down before Him. They pay homage to Him who lives forever and ever. They cast their crowns before the throne. Their hearts are swallowed up in the delight of what God is.
Since the crowns end up on the floor, some ask whether it is worth pursuing them at all. One writer answers that having more to give away is the whole attraction.
I remember someone saying to us, "Go in for as many crowns as you can get." Then he added, "so that you may cast them all at the feet of Jesus." The more you can get, the more you will have for His praise and glory.
- Crowned — the elders are glorified saints, sitting on thrones as kings and serving as priests.
- Derived — their royal dignity came from the throne and is kept by it, so that is where the crowns land.
- Cast — no command produces this. It springs from a heart that knows the One on the throne.
- Glad — pride cannot bear anything above it. The saint in glory is happy for Christ to have it all.
- Now — go after every crown you can, because the more you carry into that scene, the more you have to lay at His feet.
Thou art worthy, O our Lord and [our] God, to receive glory and honour and power; for *thou* hast created all things, and for thy will they were, and they have been created.
In Revelation 4, crowned elders sing before God's throne. They say who deserves all glory, and they give one reason: God made everything. Judgment is about to fall on the earth, yet those nearest the throne answer with worship, not fear.
Two groups praise in this chapter, and they do not praise in the same way. One writer draws the distinction sharply.
Someone has remarked "that the living creatures only celebrate and declare; the elders worship with understanding." All God's works will praise Him. But only the redeemed have the mind of Christ. Only they can, through the Holy Spirit, enter into the things of God and share in them, whether in grace or in judgment.
The living creatures speak about God. The elders speak to Him, calling Him "our Lord and God" (Walter Scott).
The elders wear gold crowns, and they do not keep them. One writer explains where such crowns come from.
When Christ rewards the believer with a crown, or crowns, at His judgment seat, there will be no sinful nature left to swell with pride. The believer will cast those crowns at the feet of the One who gave them. It was His grace that produced this fruit in the believer, for His praise.
The crowns came from Christ, and the saints "use the crowns that Christ has given them to own their perfect submission to Him" (Hamilton Smith). The elders are "more blessed in owning His glory than in having their own" (Edward Dennett).
The word "for" carries the whole verse. The elders give the reason God is worthy.
These twenty-four elders (representatives, as I have said, of the saints), as kings and priests, understand what makes the Lord worthy of praise: "for you created all things, and by your will they existed and were created." The Lord is the source and final end of all that exists.
Older translations read "for your pleasure" where the ESV has "by your will." Both point to God's will as the one cause.
If God's will alone brought everything into being, then everything remains answerable to Him. That is the argument the elders' last words make.
They praise Him as the Creator, and they own the sovereign claims this gives Him over all His creatures. His will alone called them into being, and by His will alone they went on existing. So, since they depend on their Creator, they must answer to Him in judgment.
People on earth will soon deny this claim. One commentator notes that those who are a new creation in Christ "enter into God's rights as Creator; which earth's inhabitants, and especially apostate Christians, are about to dispute and deny" (William Kelly).
The Lamb is not named separately in this chapter, which raises a question about who receives this praise.
This praise goes not to the Father, but to the God of creation and providence. In this chapter Jesus is never named or seen on His own. Yet in creation He is the person of the Godhead who works; for "all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together." (Col. 1:16-17.) So the one worshipped here is not the Father as distinct from the Son. It is God the Creator, including Father, Son, and Spirit. All the glory a creature has is only given to it. So the elders, though crowned, fall down and worship the ever-living One, casting their crowns before the throne and owning that He alone is worthy of honour, glory, and power.
This song does not mention redemption yet. That comes next: "In chapter 4, it is the praises of creation, and in chapter 5, the praises of redemption" (J. N. Darby).
A creation made for God's pleasure is not what we see around us now.
Sin has spoiled the beautiful creation, so that now the whole creation groans and suffers pain. But the saints in heaven have the mind of the Lord. They can see that God will deal with all the evil in judgment. Then God can once again take pleasure in His creation, just as He did long ago when the creation work was finished: "And God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good" (Gen. 1:31).
- His will — Nothing exists by accident. God's will alone called everything into being and keeps it in being.
- His right — Because He made all things, He may judge all things. To depend on a Creator is to answer to Him.
- His worthiness — The elders give a reason for their praise. Worship that knows why it worships is worship "with understanding."
- His crowns — Real rewards go straight back to the Giver. The elders would rather own His glory than hold their own.
- His pleasure — Sin has spoiled what He made for His delight. Judgment clears the way for God to enjoy His creation again.
And I saw on the right hand of him that sat upon the throne a book, written within and on the back, sealed with seven seals.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And I saw a strong angel proclaiming with a loud voice, Who [is] worthy to open the book, and to break its seals?
A sealed scroll rests in the hand of the One on the throne. Before anyone opens it, a herald puts a question to the whole created order. Everything that follows in the book of Revelation waits on the answer.
Strength is the first thing said about this angel. One writer takes the three places his voice searches — heaven, earth, and under the earth — as marking the whole universe.
The angels "excel in strength" (Psalm 103:20), but they use their might only in instant obedience to the will of the Creator... All angels are strong, but there are measures, and ranks, and orders among them. There are prominent angels among their fellows, such as Gabriel and Michael. The loud voice of one of those angels of power reaches to the furthest bounds of the universe. It searches "the heaven," the dwelling place of God; "the earth," the dwelling place of men; and "underneath the earth," the home of other intelligent beings. Those three terms mark out the extent of the universe. Everywhere and to every being the angel's voice reaches.
The angel is not looking for a scholar. Opening this scroll means setting its contents in motion.
We must bear in mind the true meaning of the opening of the book. As soon as the seals are broken, events begin to happen. So the great significance of the angel's question is not who can explain what is written — a simple matter by comparison — but who can bring to pass the events foretold?
One writer notes that the question names two acts, and not in the order you would expect:
The universe in all its parts does not hold one being able to disclose and carry out the counsels of God... "To open the book" and "to break its seals" are two separate actions. The natural order would have been to break the seals first, and then open the book. But the point of the angel's proclamation is to open the book so as to unfold its contents. The breaking of the seals is the carrying out of those contents, as in Revelation 6... No one answers the challenge. The undertaking required moral worth and a proved capacity not found in any created being.
The angel does not ask who is strong enough. He asks who has the standing — and that rules out every creature, however glorious.
No mere creature can meet God on the ground of worthiness, or lay claim or title to anything in His presence. The brightest and highest beings in God's creation have nothing except what they have received. They have no beauty except what God has put on them. They have no righteousness except what their Maker formed in them. Worthiness has to do with having accomplished something that earns it. The spotless angels, mighty in strength, who surround the throne of heaven, have no title to anything; everything they have is a gift.
The challenge goes out to every creature, and nothing comes back.
A strong angel appears on the scene and cries with a loud voice, challenging, as it were, the whole universe. There was no response to the challenge. In truth, there was not one, from Gabriel downwards, of all God's creatures, who had the qualification needed to undertake the task.
Only after that silence has run its course does the answer step forward:
What creature could open these seals? None anywhere. But the strong angel proclaims, and the Lord Jesus comes forward to answer the proclamation. He takes up the challenge after enough space has passed to prove the powerlessness of all others.
What is in this scroll? One writer warns against reading it as judgment alone:
We must not limit the book to setting forth the judgments of God. It does indeed present these judgments in all their solemnity, and most of the book describes the judgments that will fall on Christendom, Israel, and the nations. But once judgment has cleared the world of all evil, the book goes on to present the vast system of blessing that God has purposed to establish on the earth. It is for the glory of Christ and the blessing of man.
- Question. The angel does not ask who can explain the scroll, but who can bring its contents to pass.
- Everywhere. The cry searches heaven, earth, and under the earth. It reaches every being there is.
- Worthy. Worthiness rests on something accomplished. Creatures own nothing but what they were given, so the word rules them all out.
- Silence. Nothing answers; the pause is long enough to prove that all others are powerless.
- Answer. Christ steps forward to the unanswered challenge. What He opens ends with evil cleared away by judgment and blessing established on the earth.
And no one was able in the heaven, or upon the earth, or underneath the earth, to open the book, or to regard it.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And *I* wept much because no one had been found worthy to open the book nor to regard it.
John stands in heaven before God's throne, watching a sealed scroll that no one can open. A call has gone out for someone worthy, no one in the whole universe has answered, and John breaks down in tears.
The scroll holds God's plans for the earth. It is the legal document that hands the inheritance to His Son.
This book, sealed with seven seals, is the book of the inheritance — the book of the investiture. It describes the means God uses to put Jesus in possession, and His ways in judgment, full of patience to the end. The basis of it all is the right of redemption that falls to Jesus. Jeremiah, in chapter 32, tells us how people bought an inheritance. They wrote it in two books, one sealed and the other open. The sealed book is the contract of the inheritance God will give to the Son. Who can unroll the events that will invest Christ with the inheritance of the earth? No one but Christ Himself.
The question was not who is strong enough. It was who is worthy, and that one word rules out every creature.
This question then uncovers a solemn fact. No one in heaven, on earth, or under the earth had any worthiness or title for such work. No one was even fit to look at the book. No mere creature can meet God on the ground of worthiness, or lay claim or title to anything in His presence. The brightest and highest minds God ever created have nothing except what they received. They have no beauty except what God put on them. They have no righteousness except what their Maker formed in them. Worthiness rests on real merit, actually accomplished.
John searched the crowd of the redeemed. The greatest names in Scripture were there, and not one of them qualified.
In God's right hand John sees a book of judgment, but also of blessing reached through judgment. If no one can open the book, how can the judgments take their course? How can the blessings be reached? Searching through all the crowds of the redeemed, John could find "no man in heaven" worthy to open the book. Many great saints were there — Enoch who walked with God, Abraham who talked with God, Moses whom God buried, and Elijah whom God caught up. All are there, but none are worthy to open the book. Then John searches through earth. If he can find no man in heaven, it is little wonder he finds no man on earth. Still less does he find anyone under the earth worthy to open the book or even to look at it.
The tears are not what a reader might expect. John was not relieved that judgment on evil had stalled. The thought that it might never fall at all is what horrified him. The quotes keep the older wording "wept much"; the ESV reads "began to weep loudly."
In the vision John wept much. He took no pleasure in the thought that judgment on evil might fail because no one was worthy to carry it out. The very reverse: it outraged his feelings to imagine that it should fail in this way. We know that "because the sentence against an evil deed is not executed speedily, the heart of the children of man is fully set to do evil" (Ecclesiastes 8:11). It would be a crowning disaster if it were never executed at all, and John might well weep at the thought of this.
Writers have judged those tears in two ways.
Some have called John's tears "the weakness of the creature." But weeping much is sometimes the expression of weakness and just as much the expression of a right and godly feeling. Someone has remarked, "Without tears the Revelation was not written, and without tears it cannot be understood."
The weeping does not last. The elders around the throne do not join in, because they already know the answer John has yet to see.
However much we may weep on earth, weeping will not do for heaven. John is the only man who ever wept in heaven. He wept much, but he was not allowed to weep long. At once one of the elders said to him, "Weep not." Elders understand the mind of heaven, and they do not weep. They see how hopeless all men's doomed efforts are, but they are in the secret of God. They know that if the task is too great for man, there is One who is both able and worthy to open the book.
- The book — a sealed contract of the inheritance for God's Son. Nothing moves until someone opens it.
- The word — "worthy" means merit actually earned. No creature, however bright, can claim a title in God's presence.
- The search — John looks through heaven, earth and under the earth. Even Enoch, Abraham, Moses and Elijah come up short.
- The tears — John weeps at the thought that evil might never be judged. Writers call his tears godly feeling, not weakness.
- The stop — heaven does not weep, because heaven knows the answer. An elder says "Weep not," for One is able and worthy to open the book.
And one of the elders says to me, Do not weep. Behold, the lion which [is] of the tribe of Juda, the root of David, has overcome [so as] to open the book, and its seven seals.
John weeps because no one in creation can open the sealed scroll. Then an elder speaks. The answer is a Person, named by two titles and one verb: Lion, Root, and "has conquered."
Notice who answers John. It is not an angel.
One of the elders answered — not the angel, notice, but one of the elders. Only these have the intelligence of God and of His ways. He said to John, "Weep no more."
Not everyone reads John's tears the same way.
Some have called John's tears "the weakness of the creature." But if "wept much" is sometimes the expression of weakness, it is just as much the expression of a right and godly feeling. As one writer said: "Without tears the Revelation was not written, and without tears it cannot be understood."
The title reaches back to Jacob's dying words over his sons. Scripture is answering itself across the centuries.
The metaphor carries the majesty and power of wild beasts on earth. Jacob compared Judah to a lion. One great chain runs through all Scripture. The Holy Spirit who spoke by Jacob on his deathbed now speaks through John. He reveals that, rejected as He may be on earth, heaven owns the Lion of the tribe of Judah as the One in whom all God's purposes centre.
The title carries more than raw force.
"The Lion of the tribe of Judah" is a glorious title. It means human majesty with no stain on it, and Royalty that is really royal. In it is the wisdom that stoops to conquer. In it is the power that subdues all enemies. It lifts those who love righteousness out of all oppression and depression.
The second title says something a family tree cannot say. A descendant comes from David; a root is what David himself came from.
He is described as the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Offspring of David, the One who as Man descended from David. But He is also the Root of David. He is the One who was before David, and the One David came from. In short, He is the One who was from all eternity.
Why name David here, and not Moses or Abraham? Because these chapters are about a throne.
David stands for Royalty. Moses stands for Law. Abraham holds the Promise. Now these two chapters (4 and 5) have as their main subject the kingdom rights and glories of Christ. They speak again and again of thrones and crowns, and that is what marks out this magnificent part of Revelation.
Everything turns on one word in the elder's answer. Older translations read "has prevailed" where the ESV has "has conquered."
The elder does not only say that He is worthy. He says, "He has prevailed." That little word "prevailed" (conquered or overcame) is bound up with the whole subject of the chapter. It is the victory of Jesus by His blood. The Lord Jesus always had personal worthiness to take the book. But suppose He had received and opened it on the ground of His own worthiness alone. What good would that have done us? The book would have stayed sealed to us.
He won that victory as a man, and that is why God's secrets now reach His people.
If He had not prevailed as Son of Man, not even as Son of God could He have opened the secrets of God to His people. He goes up and takes the book, and then praise flows out.
The next verse springs a surprise, and it shapes how we read the title.
John had heard of a Lion, but when he looked, it was a Lamb. He expected the symbol of power. Instead, before them all stood the picture of most holy suffering and rejection... The Lord of glory has become a Lamb, and we must know Him as such if we are to profit by Him.
- Tears — John weeps over a sealed book. That is right feeling, not weakness: Revelation was not written without tears, and cannot be understood without them.
- Comfort — the answer comes from an elder, not an angel, because the elders know God and His ways.
- Lion — the title reaches back to Jacob's deathbed words over Judah. It means royal power that subdues enemies and lifts the oppressed.
- Root — He is David's source, not just David's descendant. He was there before David, from all eternity.
- Prevailed — worthiness alone would have left the book shut for us. He conquered as Son of Man, and God's secrets flow out. Then John looks and sees a Lamb.
And I saw in the midst of the throne and of the four living creatures, and in the midst of the elders, a Lamb standing, as slain, having seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven Spirits of God [which are] sent into all the earth
John is told that the Lion of the tribe of Judah has won, but when he looks he sees a slain Lamb with seven horns and seven eyes. In one picture the verse joins a death to a throne, and weakness to total power.
What John hears and what he sees do not match.
John had heard of a Lion, but now that he came to look, it was a Lamb. He expected to see the symbol of power. Instead there stood before them all the picture of the holiest suffering and rejection. This was the image of Christ even on the throne, in all the glory of heaven — One struck down, innocent and offering no resistance, "a Lamb standing, as though it had been slain." He is clothed with perfect power; the seven horns surely mean that much... But the One who has all the power and wisdom is the Lamb. I believe all our blessing rests on that blessed truth.
The words "as though it had been slain" describe someone still marked by His death. John of all people knew what he was seeing. (Where the writers quoted below say "in the midst of the throne," the ESV reads "between the throne and the four living creatures.")
He had stood at the foot of the cross and watched the Lamb suffer. He had seen Him when men pierced His hands and feet... And now he is carried up to heaven. There, in the very centre of heavenly glory, he sees "in the midst of the throne … a Lamb as though it had been slain." He sees the Lamb in His glories — JESUS with the wound marks in His hands and feet, the only Man in all that eternal glory who will bear any trace of the sorrows of time.
The blood is why He prevailed, and those marks no longer speak of weakness:
It was by the blood that Jesus prevailed to open the book. The cross is so precious to God that He has moved it, as it were, into His own blessed presence in the midst of the throne of heaven. There the Lamb is seen "as though it had been slain" — not now in weakness, but in power, and in all the perfection of understanding and wisdom.
The numbers and images here are a language, and the rest of Scripture teaches it.
The number "seven" means divine perfection... The seven horns mean power. All through Scripture a horn is a symbol of power, whether of an individual or of a kingdom.
The verse explains the eyes itself. They are the seven Spirits of God, which ties what Christ knows to the Spirit and spreads it over the whole earth.
While God's praises as Creator ring out, Christ is "in the midst of the throne" in His own essential glory — the glory of God. But when the subject is government and judgment on earth, He steps forward in His derived human glory as the Lamb that had been slain. He is now clothed however with perfect power, shown in the seven horns. He has perfect knowledge and wisdom, pictured in the seven eyes... For Christ, as man, receives from the Spirit the knowledge and wisdom of God, and so He discerns everything throughout the whole earth.
Until now the Lamb has been sitting. He stands here, and the change of posture means something is about to begin.
The "Lamb standing" between the throne and the elders is the first step towards taking the inheritance. He is about to take to Himself His great power and reign... But John sees that the time of patient waiting has ended. The Lamb leaves the "throne" and the "right hand," and stands ready to act. Standing means readiness to act; sitting speaks of a state of rest.
Power alone does not give the right to open the sealed scroll. That right rests on a price paid, and the picture behind it is a lost inheritance bought back.
The seven horns express perfection in power; the seven eyes are the perfection of the Spirit who sees all... Boaz had to redeem Elimelech's land, and Ruth is a picture of the redeemed. Jesus, the true Boaz, the only mighty One, redeems Ruth, His own people, and the land of Elimelech, the earth. What gives the Lamb the right to use all power is that He has paid the ransom to God. God had, as it were, lost the inheritance. But the Lamb has bought it back for God.
- Slain — The cost came first. A death marks out the One at the centre of the throne, and those marks stay with Him forever.
- Standing — The waiting is over. He rises from sitting because He is ready to act and take the inheritance.
- Seven horns — Complete power. A horn stands for power all through Scripture, and seven stands for perfection.
- Seven eyes — Complete wisdom, named as the Spirit of God, so nothing on earth escapes Him.
- All the earth — The reach matches the price. He paid the ransom for the lost inheritance, so He takes the scroll and rules the world He bought.
and it came and took [it] out of the right hand of him that sat upon the throne.
No one in the universe could open the sealed scroll in God's right hand. Now the Lamb steps up to the throne, takes it, and settles forever the question of who holds the future of the earth.
Two pictures meet in one Person. One writer ties each title to a different part of the act:
As the Lion, Christ is able; as the Lamb, He is worthy to open the book. So He can take the book out of the right hand of Him who sat on the throne. Taking the book means that the supreme moment for which angels and saints had waited has at last come. The time of the patience of Jesus is past; the time for action has come.
Many read the scroll as a legal document. It is the deed to an inheritance, and only the rightful redeemer may open it:
This book, sealed with seven seals, is the book of the inheritance — that is, of the formal handing over. It describes the means God uses to put Jesus in possession, and His ways in judgment, patient to the end. The right of redemption that falls to Jesus is the basis of it all. Jeremiah, in chapter 32, shows the purchase of an inheritance written on two books: one sealed, the other open. The sealed book is the contract of the inheritance that is to be given to the Son. Who can unroll the events that will give Christ the inheritance of the earth? No one but Christ Himself. Who has a right to do it? He alone — the Redeemer, who has bought it. By His blood and by His power He can claim and deliver everything as His own.
Commentators differ here. One writer keeps redemption as the theme but avoids the legal picture. He notes that "when the seals are opened there is no proving of title or declaration of it: but the redemption itself proceeds by orderly steps to its completion."
Notice whose hand the book comes from. The Lamb had refused power from every other hand:
Jesus would not take power from the god of this world (Matt. 4:9-10), nor would He take it from the heated desire of the people (John 6:15). He waits to take it from the hand of the God of heaven and earth, from whom Adam received it long ago. Only from that hand could He receive it righteously. And as the Lamb here acknowledges God on the throne as the source of power, so God on the throne acknowledges the Lamb as the one He appoints to hold power.
This act in heaven is God's answer to the state of the earth:
What a moment for heaven this was! On earth all was confusion and corruption. Man, energised by Satan, was dominant. Remember, we are speaking of the future. He rejected God and demanded divine honours for himself. Who could step into such a scene and curb the power of evil? Who could re-assert God's authority, govern the nations righteously, and fill the earth with the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea? The answer is given here. It is the slain but now exalted Lamb; and He gives the pledge of what He is about to do in taking the book out of the right hand of God.
One writer measures the size of the act by the size of the response in heaven:
It must be something momentous to move the heavenly host. Perfhaps very small events move us here on earth. But in heaven, in the place of glory where everything is perfect, it takes something vast to command widespread interest. But when the Lamb took the book, all heaven was moved to worship... They are so glad that He has come into His own. They are so glad that He has the chief place in heaven, and that no one else is found worthy to undertake this work.
The Lamb takes the book with His servants in mind:
Why did He go and take the book? Because He wanted to communicate to His servant John, and to His servants down here, what would take place after the saints are taken up to heaven — the destinies of the earth down to the end. Oh, how blessed for John and for us, His servants!
- Worthy — the Lion's strength makes Him able, the Lamb's death makes Him worthy; the same Person holds both.
- Deed — many read the sealed scroll as the contract of an inheritance. Only the redeemer who paid for it may open it, though commentators differ on that picture.
- Given — He refused power from Satan and from the crowd, and waits to receive it from the hand on the throne.
- Timing — the taking marks the end of Christ's patience and the start of His action over a world in confusion.
- Answered — heaven is hard to move, yet it worships the moment the book changes hands, and the Lamb opens the book's contents for His servants.
And when it took the book, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell before the Lamb, having each a harp and golden bowls full of incenses, which are the prayers of the saints.
The Lamb takes the scroll, and heaven falls on its face. What follows is not silence but harps and golden bowls — and the verse tells us what fills the bowls.
He has not opened one seal yet. No judgment has fallen. Heaven bows first, and the order matters.
There is both worthiness and competency in Him to unfold the counsels of God. "Behold, I have come to do Your will," whatever it might be. The Lamb in the glory is the centre of worship. Notice, they worship before the seals are opened.
In the previous chapter the worship was for creation. Here the ground has shifted.
Now redemption was in question, and so the Lamb is the Object of worship. All gladly honour the Son just as they honour the Father. Indeed the Father refuses honour supposedly offered to Himself if the Son is not honoured.
What the elders hold in their hands tells us who they are.
The elders in heaven have harps and golden bowls full of odours, "which are the prayers of saints," This shows that they act as priests (Rev. 5:8)... They are doubtless the redeemed, including both Old and New Testament saints.
The number twenty-four reaches back into Israel's worship.
David first brought in the harp, setting apart the sons of Asaph, Heman and Jeduthun for songs in the house of the Lord. These singers, like the priests, were divided into twenty-four groups. So the reference is clear, with that measure of difference which marks this book. Priestly and choral service are blended here in perfection.
Commentators differ on whether both companies hold the harps and bowls, or only the elders.
The two objects are not decoration. Each stands for a part of priestly work.
Priestly praise (the harp) and service (the bowls) are here united... "Golden bowls" mark their value and prove the high and holy service for which they are used. "Full of incenses." It is not one perfume, but many. The fragrance is full and varied. The "incenses are the prayers of the saints." Prayer on earth is incense in Heaven. We sometimes think our prayers are worthless. Ah! it is not so. God in His own matchless way and rich grace values our cries and pleadings, and they rise to Him as incense.
The elders are already in heaven, already singing praise. So whose prayers fill their bowls?
But who are those "saints" that pray? The elders, or the church, were in heaven, and in full choir of praise. Whose prayers then are these? They come from saints who will suffer when the church is above... They are in the place of adoration and praise, whereas prayer implies need. If they have to do with prayers, they are the prayers of others, not their own.
Another writer stops short of naming them, and still reaches the same conclusion.
Scripture does not tell us how the prayers of the saints are presented through them, or who these saints are. But this much is certain: the glorified saints do not need to pray. So we may well conclude that these odours are the prayers of the saints on earth.
There is a limit to this priestly work. Set it beside a later scene in chapter 8.
Notice here, that when the saints (Rev. 5:8) act as priests, they add no incense at all — it is privilege enough to have such a place, but they can add nothing. The odours are the saints' own prayers on earth. Here (Rev. 8:3) the Angel-High Priest adds much incense to give effect to the cry of the saints.
The bowls are full. That fullness says something about every prayer that ever seemed to go nowhere.
There are things His people suffer from that He never forgets. All their prayers are treasured up before God — their tears are put in His bottle and treasured up. What! the sorrow I have forgotten, has God written that down?... Not only does God remember my prayer; He puts it away on His own throne. It is like the pot of manna He wanted laid up, kept as a trophy of the way He carried His people through the wilderness... Is that said of the prayers of saints? Yes, not one of them lost.
The storing has an end in view.
Many of these saints left the world as martyrs. They praised a God who did not step in to rescue them from their enemies. Their prayers, at times, seemed unanswered and even unheard. At last their praise will be justified and their prayers answered.
- The Lamb first. Heaven worships the moment He takes the book, before one seal is opened. He is honoured for what He is worth.
- Priests, not angels. The twenty-four elders answer to Israel's twenty-four groups of priests. Their harps and bowls mark them out as the redeemed at priestly work.
- Two hands, two acts. The harp is praise; the golden bowl is service. The bowl's contents are named for us: incense that is the prayers of the saints.
- Prayers not their own. Prayer implies need. Saints already in heaven have none left, so the incense rises from saints still on earth.
- Nothing wasted. God stores every cry before His throne and answers every prayer at last. The saints add nothing of their own — the place itself is privilege enough.
And they sing a new song, saying, Thou art worthy to take the book, and to open its seals; because thou hast been slain, and hast redeemed to God, by thy blood, out of every tribe, and tongue, and people, and nation,
Heaven's throne room holds a sealed scroll that no one can open, and a Lamb who steps forward and takes it. The song that follows tells us why He alone has the right, and it raises a question commentators still weigh: who are the redeemed it sings about?
An old law in Israel stands behind this scene.
In Israel there was a rule for buying back the inheritance, and also the heir or the person (Leviticus 25). If either an Israelite or his possession had been sold, it was his relative's duty and right to ransom him and it. Now Jesus has proved Himself our kinsman in both ways. The Son of God became the Son of Man, and so showed His kinsman nature. He died to purchase us and our inheritance by blood, and so showed His kinsman love... His blood as the Lamb slain gave Him the title to it. His strength as the Lion of the tribe of Judah must now give Him possession of it.
Why could heaven not sing this song before? Sin changed what praise must rest on.
Now that sin has come into the world, the creative glory of God is not enough, nor even the way He governs the world. Suppose He is to be glorified in some way other than pure judgment of His enemies. Suppose merciful goodness is to be shown in a world like this. Suppose a new song is to be sung in heaven. Then there must be redemption — and not by power only, but by suffering and blood.
Older translations read because where the ESV has for. Either way, the song traces His worthiness to one event.
As the Lion of the tribe of Judah He acts in power, but as the Lamb He was slain. Here the carrying out of God's plans of grace and glory goes back to the cross as its basis. "Because You have been SLAIN." Without the cross, Christ would have entered spheres of glory alone. Without it there could be no redemption for sinners. The cross is the grandest counsel of eternity and the grandest fact of time.
Does this mean the whole human race will be saved? One writer answers with careful distinctions.
There is no redemption of the race, but of persons out of it... Purchase is universal, and means a change of ownership. Redemption is special, and refers to a change of state. "Redeemed to God" — then we are His... Israel's redemption in the past was carried out by power; the redemption of sinners out of the race is by blood.
What divides people here divides them no longer there.
They may speak many languages on earth, but they will sing the one new song in heaven. They may belong to many nations, but they have only one Lord.
Redeemed people have always sung. So what makes this song new?
The praying time is over, the singing time has come... Until now the ransomed of the Lord had been on the way to glory, singing songs of redemption. But those songs looked forward to victory and the reign of glory. They were songs of hope. With the taking of the book their hopes will all be fulfilled, and the songs of hope will be changed to songs of victory... All heaven is occupied with the Lamb — "YOU are worthy," "YOU were slain," "YOU ransomed," and "YOU have made."
Some translations read "redeemed us"; others leave the pronoun out. Commentators differ on what that means. One holds the singers are still the redeemed, kept out of view:
The word "us" should probably be left out. Still, if so, the ones meant are the redeemed, represented by the twenty-four elders. They stay in the background, because they celebrate the worthiness of the Lamb rather than their own blessings in redemption.
Another argues the singers are praising God for a different company altogether:
The elders are so completely at rest about themselves that they can be taken up with others... They are speaking about the saints whose prayers they were offering... They show that in taking the heavenly saints above, He had not finished with His rich mercy. Even while He was judging, He would have a purchased people, who were to share the glory of the kingdom as a royal priesthood.
One difference between angels and the redeemed shows up here.
The angels, as has often been noted, say their praises; they do not sing them. It is only those who are redeemed, as Scripture everywhere shows, who can put their praise into song.
- Slain. The song gives one reason for the Lamb's worthiness, and it is not His power but His death.
- Worthy. His blood gave Him the title to the inheritance; His strength as the Lion will give Him possession of it.
- Bought. Purchase changes who owns you; redemption changes your state. God takes persons out of the race, not the race as a whole.
- Sung. Creation's glory drew worship; only redemption drew a song. Angels say their praise; the redeemed sing it.
- New. Songs of hope become songs of victory the moment the Lamb takes the scroll. Every line points to Him: You are worthy, You were slain, You ransomed, You have made.
and made them to our God kings and priests; and they shall reign over the earth.
The song around the throne moves from the Lamb's blood to what that blood bought. Two questions sit in this verse — who is the song about, and where will the reign happen?
The elders sing about a company on earth, not about themselves. Their own service explains why.
The elders do not sing of their own redemption, but that of a people on earth. Their priestly service was on behalf of others, so here their song is of the redeemed then on earth. They sing and celebrate the blessing of others, not their own. How unselfish! How free from jealousy!
Older Bibles read "us" and "we" here, so commentators differ over the right reading. One writer settles for "them" on the evidence of the copies, yet still ties the song to the redeemed themselves.
Though most manuscripts do read "us", a few copies leave it out — and the next verse supports those few. There the reading is certainly, "And have made them to our God, kings and priests, and they shall reign over the earth." … Who should care so much that men were redeemed to God by His blood, were made kings and priests, or should reign over the earth, as the redeemed themselves?
"Kings and priests" is not one honour said twice. The two words face opposite ways.
In kings, you have the expression of power from God downward; in the priests the privilege of approach to God upwards. As priests we approach God; as kings, we reign over the inheritance.
The words "a kingdom and priests" reach back to an offer God once made to Israel. That offer carried a condition.
Israel was promised, on condition of obedience, "you shall be to me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation" (Ex. 19:6). They failed to obey. Levi's special priesthood came in as the result of that failure. And since the priests belonged to this failed people, not even they could pass inside the veil. Grace has now given us as Christians that access to God which was denied to them.
Several writers argue for "over the earth" instead of "on the earth". Their case rests on how the Greek preposition works with words of ruling.
As far as the usage shows, with words of authority or rule the Greek word epi marks the sphere ruled over, and en marks the place where the ruler lived. … In the books of Samuel, Kings and Chronicles, for example, en usually marks where the king lived, and epi the sphere he ruled. So the true rendering is "over," not "on." … The thousand-year reign is heavenly, but it is over the earth. Israel and the nations do not reign there; they are the ones reigned over.
This is more than a fine point of grammar. A heavenly reign still has a real centre of government on earth beneath it.
Jerusalem will become the capital seat of government on earth in the coming age of blessing (Jer. 3:17). The Jewish people, then all saved, will take the headship of the nations. But the heavenly saints shall reign "over" the earth, not on it. … They are not subjects of the kingdom; they are kings.
The tense matters. Even in heaven, in front of the Lamb, the singers put the reign in the future.
Their language is, "We shall reign," and not "we reign." They are waiting, just as the Lord Jesus Himself is waiting. They wait for one thing to happen: that His enemies be made the footstool for His feet.
And the ones who reign are people, not ideas. Some have tried to reduce the coming kingdom to the triumph of good principles.
It is written "they shall reign" (Rev. 5:10; 20:6); and I cannot confuse principles with persons. If we suffer, we shall reign. We are not principles. When we suffer, is it so that principles may reign? It would be a strange reward for me when I suffer to say that it is so that my principles may reign a thousand years.
The elders' song is not reserved for heaven.
Their new song (5:9) speaks of Christ's person ("you are worthy") and of Christ's work ("you were slain"). It also speaks of what His work has done for God ("you redeemed to God") and for us ("made us … kings and priests; and they shall reign over the earth"). Each of these four themes of the new song is already part of Christian worship today. In this sense the new song has already begun.
- Blood — the song's whole basis is the Lamb slain; every title in this verse is bought, not earned.
- Made — God offered Israel this place on condition of obedience, and Israel lost it. Grace now gives it: a kingdom and priests to God.
- Two directions — kingship is power flowing down from God; priesthood is access going up to God. One gift, both directions.
- Over — the reign is heavenly in place, earthly in sphere. The redeemed are not subjects of the kingdom; they are kings with Christ.
- Shall — the verb is future even in heaven. Real people, not principles, wait with Christ Himself for the day His enemies are put under His feet.
And I saw, and I heard [the] voice of many angels around the throne and the living creatures and the elders; and their number was ten thousands of ten thousands and thousands of thousands;
John has just watched the Lamb take the sealed book, and heard the redeemed sing a new song about it. Now the view widens. A second voice joins in — a host so large that John can only count it in thousands upon thousands.
Angels appear here for the first time in this heavenly scene. One writer asks why the previous chapter says nothing about them.
How is it that no angels appear in Revelation 4? And why do we have them in Revelation 5? God's ways that Scripture speaks of always have the wisest reason behind them, and the Spirit encourages us to ask humbly and with trust. Here is what it seems to point to. The Lamb takes the book into His hands and prepares to open the seals, and this marks a change of administration. Up to that point in time angels have carried out God's power for Him. When judgment was in view, or any other unusual act of His, angels were the instruments.
The numbers here are not a count. One writer notes what this crowd knows, as well as how large it is.
Here we have an indefinite, uncountable number of angelic beings who seem well acquainted with the history of the sorrows of the Saviour.
The order of the words in the verse matters.
Notice that these myriads of worshipping angels form, if we may put it that way, the outer circle of the heavenly hosts. They are around the throne, and the living creatures, and the elders. By His indescribable grace, God brings the redeemed, who are in Christ, into a nearer place than created beings that have never fallen from their perfect state as creatures! This is a well-known truth, but how little we grasp it in power.
Another writer adds what else marks the difference.
There the angels are "around the throne and the living creatures and the elders." That is, they form an outer circle, and so stand further from the throne. They do not sit on thrones or wear crowns on their heads, as kings and priests to God. God keeps those honours for the redeemed alone, since He has not put the world to come under angels.
The elders sing. The angels answer, but they do not sing. Commentators treat that difference as more than a matter of style.
In the response of the angelic hosts to the song of the redeemed they say, whereas the elders sing. This is more than a difference in words. Angels know the Lamb, but they cannot say "He was slain for us." We know Him in a deeper, fuller, more personal way than angels do. He died for us, not for them. So the difference: we sing, they say. Angels are never said to sing. Notice, too, that the elders in their song speak straight to the Lamb, while the angels, in keeping with their place and service, use a more distant form of address. The elders sing to Him; the angels speak about Him.
Another writer traces the difference to the angels' untroubled history.
Their peaceful lives never change, and sin has never touched them, so they have no varied tones for melody. The harps we will have above are tuned down here, where the Davids, marked out by their sufferings, are the sweet singers of Israel. This is the wonderful and eternal fruit of earth's sorrow, though by God's grace alone: the redeemed among men will be the choir of heaven!
Being outside the inner circle is not the same as being far off.
Redemption has therefore added to the angels' praise. It is not to the Creator only. And in this new praise, a new element of blessing, a new grasp of God, has entered their hearts. They are nearer, though in this outside circle, than they have ever been before. In truth, though in some sense outside, our earthly idea of distance fails to carry the thought. There may be larger and smaller measures of understanding, but real distance between the creature and the Creator is the one impossibility in heaven.
- Change — when the Lamb takes the book, the administration changes hands; until then angels carried out God's power.
- Circle — the angels stand around the throne, and around the living creatures and elders. That places them in the outer ring.
- Nearness — grace has set redeemed sinners closer to the throne than beings who never fell.
- Song — the elders sing to the Lamb; the angels only speak about Him, because they cannot say "He was slain for us."
- Gain — redemption enlarges even angelic praise. They praise Him for redemption, not creation only, and stand nearer than ever before.
saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that has been slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing.
The scene is heaven's throne room, and the Lamb who was slain has just opened the book of God's purposes. Countless angels now name Him worthy of seven things — and the reason for all seven is His death.
Heaven does not praise a vague greatness. It praises a title — and that one word shapes the whole book:
This title is dear to our hearts. It is almost entirely connected with the book of Revelation. It is surely meant to show the special character in which the One who bears it is presented there. Noticing this may give a useful key to that wonderful book. It may be "called the book of the rights of the Lamb." Certainly, all the details and principles of its prophetic part are tied to this title. … He alone is declared worthy to receive the whole tribute of the universe and to become the centre of its universal praise.
The list is not random. Its length is the point:
Notice also that they proclaim the Lamb worthy to receive seven things. That is, He is worthy to receive all things. It is the ascription to Him of all possible exaltation, dominion, and blessing.
Each item in the list has a history in human hands, and each one changes hands here:
Man has perverted power to his own ends. It will come into Christ's hands to carry out God's will. Man has abused riches to advance unholy plans and selfish desires. They come to Christ, for the service of God. All the millionaires' millions, all the wealth of mines, all the resources of the earth will come to Christ. He will manage them according to God's will. Wisdom will be at His disposal… Strength — long used to crush the weak — will be His. Honour has long gone from man to his fellow man; God will give it to Christ. Glory has only been stained by corruption and lust in the fallen creature; it will find its right centre in the Person of the Lamb once slain. Blessing was lost only when entrusted to sinful Adam or any of his race; it will be put into the hands of the Second Man, the last Adam, where it will never, never fail.
The One heaven crowns is the One earth condemned, and that contrast runs through the whole list:
Men have paid homage to one another, and dishonoured the Lamb. They have enthroned man, and crucified the Lamb. The day is coming when all will see that the Lamb alone is worthy to receive all power, riches, wisdom, strength, honour, glory, and blessing. He alone is worthy to receive them all, for He alone will use them for the glory of God.
The angels praise beside the elders, who stand for the redeemed. The two groups do not praise on the same ground:
But there is a great difference between this worship of the angels and that of the elders. The angels look at His "obedience unto death." They acknowledge that it is as the slain Lamb that He is entitled to receive glory and blessing. But they say nothing about redemption. For the angels, the central object in the cross is the perfect obedience shown there. For the elders, it is the redeeming work accomplished there.
Writers also note the difference in how the praise is offered: the angels say their praise, while only the redeemed can sing it (Edward Dennett).
For now, believers hold His worth quietly, against opposition on every side. That will change:
How the heart's joy grows at the thought of that day! Then the worthiness of the Lamb will no longer be a secret carried weakly in the heart of the saint, contradicted and denied on every side. Evil will be removed by the hand of Power. Every eye will gaze upon His beauty, every heart will acknowledge His claims, and every voice will echo back His worthy praise!
- Slain. Heaven gives one reason for His worthiness: His death. He is the Lamb who was slain, and that title governs the whole book.
- Sevenfold. Seven items means all items. Every possible exaltation, dominion and blessing goes to one Person.
- Reversed. Man has abused power, riches, wisdom, strength, honour, glory and blessing. Each one passes to the Lamb, who will use them for God.
- Sung. The redeemed sing of redemption. The angels speak of His obedience unto death. One chorus, two grounds.
- Soon. Faith confesses His worth now, against contradiction. Then every eye and every voice will confess it in the open.
And every creature which is in the heaven and upon the earth and under the earth, and [those that are] upon the sea, and all things in them, heard I saying, To him that sits upon the throne, and to the Lamb, blessing, and honour, and glory, and might, to the ages of ages.
Revelation 5 has been building to this. A sealed scroll waits, no one worthy is found to open it, and then the Lamb who was slain takes it. Verse 13 is where the answer breaks past every boundary. Not just the worshippers, not just the angels — everything that exists joins in.
The praise spreads outward, and the last circle has no edge. One writer points to how these voices praise, and to the numbers they use:
The angels and then all created things praise the Lamb without addressing Him personally. The praise of the angels is sevenfold. The praise of every creature is fourfold — four being the number that indicates universality in creation. Men judged the Lamb worthy of death and led Him to the slaughter. The angels declare that He is worthy of all glory in sevenfold completeness. Every creature sees the Lamb joined with Him who sits on the throne, inheriting all blessing, honour, glory and power.
What triggers it is one act — the Lamb taking the book:
The chord is touched, the keynote sounded, and heard at last in heaven. If the Lamb takes the book, every creature responds with joy in the hearing of John, since right now the whole lower universe groans in sorrow because of Adam's sin. Why should they not rejoice if God and the Lamb unite to deliver?
The voices here are not only human. The Psalms already sang in the same key:
The praise here is clearly not simply human. It is like the bursts of praise in the Psalms: "Let the sea roar, and all that fills it; the world and those who dwell in it! Let the rivers clap their hands; let the hills sing for joy together before the LORD, for He comes to judge the earth. He will judge the world with righteousness, and the peoples with equity" (Ps. 98:7-9).
Another writer traces the change back to the moment Adam sinned:
At the moment of Adam's sin, the creatures became groaners after deliverance in the ear of the Spirit (Rom. 8). Now the Lamb is owned as "Lord of the world to come," and as about to take His kingdom. In the ear of that same Spirit these groans turn into praises. The prisoners of hope get bright pledges of a glorious deliverance.
The phrase sounds ominous. One writer takes it as part of the waiting creation, not as the world of the damned:
We must carefully distinguish every creature "under the earth" here from the different word used in Philippians 2:10. The phrase here, I take it, means the things beneath the earth's surface, living or lifeless. In the vision they anticipate their deliverance from corruption into the freedom of the glory of the children of God. Of course they cannot share the freedom of grace that we enjoy. But when we are in the glory, that will be the pledge of their own glorious change, soon to follow. The words in Philippians mean the beings of hell, who must bow with every knee at the name of Jesus.
John hears this in a vision set before the seals are even opened, so the song runs ahead of the events:
Verse 13 is therefore anticipative. Our Lord spoke the same way when the seventy disciples He had sent out reported that demons obeyed them in His name: "I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven" (Luke 10:17-18). It has not happened yet, but it will happen before the millennium… And this is clearly not eternity being anticipated either, for then there will be no sea (Revelation 21).
Yet the song is not empty. One writer describes what that first moment set going:
It was like striking a keynote that would never stop vibrating, until the glory of God and the Lamb filled the furthest bounds of creation… From the first event that was a link in the chain, the end is welcomed. This is the mind of Christ.
The verse names the throne and the Lamb together in one act of worship. One writer answered from it whether Christ Himself should be worshipped:
Tell me I am not to worship Christ: you take away the only Christ I know. I have no other. There is only One I adore and worship, with a thankful heart that owes everything to Him… All the angels of God are to worship Him, and every knee is to bow to Him… The One sitting on the throne and the Lamb are joined together in Revelation 5:13.
- Cause — The chorus begins the moment the Lamb takes the book. Redemption, not power alone, unlocks the praise of the universe.
- Reach — The angels praise in sevens; creation praises in fours, the number that covers everything. Nothing is left outside.
- Reversal — The creation that groans under Adam's sin is heard singing. The same Spirit who registered the groan registers the joy.
- Timing — The song is anticipative. It is heard before the seals open, before the kingdom comes, and it is not eternity, since there is still a sea.
- Result — One worship goes to the throne and to the Lamb together. So Christ is to be adored, not just admired.
And the four living creatures said, Amen; and the elders fell down and did homage.
The scene in Revelation 5 builds through widening circles of praise: the redeemed, then the angels, then every created thing. This verse is where it lands. Two responses close it: a spoken "Amen," and a silence in which nobody says anything at all.
Verse 13 is the praise of creation itself. One writer reads it as a preview of what the Redeemer's work will do for a world still in bondage.
The circle of praise expands further still. Heaven, earth, and sea say together with joy, "To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!" This looks ahead in prophecy to the complete deliverance of the whole creation, which has groaned in bondage so long, as the fruit of the Redeemer's work. The four living creatures respond with their deep "Amen," and the twenty-four elders fall down and worship.
The living creatures and the elders do not do the same thing. One writer calls the elders the heavenly saints, and shows why their response goes deeper than agreement.
Countless angels join in acknowledging His death. But it is the place of the heavenly saints to enter into the sense of what that death achieved — yes, and into the deep joy, God's joy, in the blessing of others, and not merely their own. The four living creatures set their seal to it and say "Amen"; but the elders fall down and do homage. They did not merely give their assent to it all — their hearts went along with it. That is always their place.
Earlier in the chapter the elders sang out loud. Here John records no words from them at all. One writer builds a lesson on that contrast.
This passage is very suggestive. (The best critics omit the last seven words of verse 14.) We gather from it that worship may come with the words of the lips. In verse 12 the crowned elders said with a loud voice, "Worthy is the Lamb." Or worship may be silent, as in verse 14. There, after the "Amen" of the living creatures, the elders simply "fell down and worshiped."
Another writer explains why worship can go beyond words.
Worship is the soul taken up with its glorious Object — the Father and the Son — and it may be beyond all possible expression. "The elders fell down and worshiped." What they said, if anything, we are not told.
Older English Bibles end the verse with "Him that lives for ever and ever." Both writers say those words do not belong here. One explains why they spoil the passage.
The words added in our version, "Him that lives for ever and ever," have no authority behind them, and they spoil the passage. In this chapter the worship does not go to God as Creator, or as the Eternal. It goes to God seated on the throne of judgment, and to Jesus as the slain Lamb, to whom God has entrusted the judgment.
The ESV, like these writers, ends the verse at "worshiped."
The elders have thrones and crowns of their own. The verse leaves them face down on the floor — and that, one writer says, is not a demotion.
John saw elders in heaven. They left their thrones and their crowns and threw themselves down before the throne and before the Lamb. There they were in a higher place than when they sat crowned in their places.
At this point in the book, the Lamb has not opened a single seal. Yet the song celebrates results that are still future.
The song and the responses that go with it look ahead. They celebrate the themes of the thousand-year reign and of eternity, and speak of them as already accomplished. The slain Lamb is the object around whom all are gathered. In the Person of the Lamb we have the firm guarantee that God will display all His purposes in glory. So, before the work takes place, faith cries out in triumph, "It is done."
- Amen — the seal. The living creatures do not add new praise; they set their seal on creation's praise and agree with it.
- Amen — the echo. The elders go further than agreement: their hearts go with it, and they fall down.
- Amen — the silence. Verse 12 is worship with a loud voice; verse 14 is worship with no recorded words at all. Both are worship.
- Amen — to the Lamb. Without the added words, the homage goes to God on the throne of judgment and to the slain Lamb together.
- Amen — before the fact. The seals are still closed, but the whole scene sings as though the work were finished, because the Lamb Himself is the guarantee.
And I saw when the Lamb opened one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures saying, as a voice of thunder, Come [and see].
Chapters 4 and 5 have shown a throne in heaven, a sealed book, and the only One found worthy to open it. Now the Lamb breaks the first seal. Two questions follow. Why does the Lamb start the world's judgments? And who does the thundering "Come" call?
The One who bought His people at the cross is the One who now sets judgment moving.
The scene now changes from heaven to earth, and we see the Lamb in His power and in His wrath, carrying out judgment. He had redeemed His saints by blood; now He redeems the inheritance by power. It is the Lamb who opens the seals, and judgment at once takes its course (Rev. 6:1).
Notice what He does and does not do. He breaks the seal; He does not ride out.
The hour may be near when the Lamb will open the seals, and the judgments break out one after another on the earth, like the plagues on guilty Egypt. They are providential judgments — famines, wars, diseases, and death. They fall on this world as the seals are opened in order. But notice that the Lamb does not carry out these judgments in person. He opens the seals, and the judgments follow.
The sound that accompanies the first seal marks a change in how God is speaking to the world.
Through this long gospel day He has been the expression of the grace of God. Now He is in the very centre of the throne, the One who unfolds the judgments. His voice is like thunder, not now the soft sweet whisper of mercy. The four living creatures command the judgments to start. The unfolding of these seals simply shows us the exact order of the providential judgments that will take place after the Church is removed.
Older translations add "and see" to the cry. The best manuscripts do not, and this changes who is being addressed.
Should we have here, and after the other three horses, the words "and see"? They seem to be missing from the best text in all these passages. In every case the sentence ought to be simply "Come." The difference comes to this. "Come and see" would be spoken to John. But according to the better manuscripts, the living creature says "Come" to the rider on the horse. That clearly makes a considerable difference.
The shorter reading also fits the volume of the voice.
If we keep the words, they make it a call to John to "come and see." But why speak to John in a voice of thunder? If we drop them, the "Come" becomes a summons to the human instrument used in these punishments on earth.
The order matters. Something happens at the throne, and only then does anything happen below.
The important point to notice is that the white horse comes out on earth because the Lamb opens the seal in heaven. The rider might be acting from his own will alone, but here we see the source of his activity. He might know nothing of it, yet he is still the instrument of the divine will.
In troubled times, that order steadies the heart.
As Christians we have the mind of Christ, that is, the power to discern. So we look behind the bare course of events and trace it all to the unseen source, God Himself. The living creatures, who carry out the will of the throne, call one after another on the human instruments of vengeance to do the task God has given them. They cannot move in judgment until the throne summons them. What strength this gives the heart in days of evil!
The living creatures stand for God's attributes as shown in creation, and that marks these judgments as His government of the earth.
The living creatures are emblems of the attributes of God as shown in creation, and they are seen in heaven beside the throne — a throne from which judgment is carried out. If that is so, we are clearly standing on the ground of "the providential course of God's dealings." They are dealings in judgment, remember, by which He is about to make good His character in government on the earth… These complete the providential plagues spoken of in Scripture. Then direct judgments follow. These are what we may call preparatory measures.
- Worthy — the Lamb redeemed His people by blood. He is the One fit to open the book and redeem the inheritance by power.
- Opened — every event below begins with an act above. The Lamb breaks the seal in heaven before a hoof moves on earth.
- Thunder — the voice that whispered mercy all through the gospel day now speaks in thunder. Judgment begins.
- Summoned — on the better manuscript reading, "Come" is not an invitation to John. It is an order to the agent of judgment, who cannot move until the throne calls him.
- Steadied — men act from their own ambition and may never know it, yet they serve the divine will. Nothing breaks loose early. That is strength for the heart in evil days.
And I saw and behold, a white horse, and he that sat upon it having a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went forth conquering and that he might conquer.
The first seal breaks, and the first scene on earth is a march of triumph, not a war of blood. Who is this crowned archer, and what does it mean that a Lamb in heaven set him moving?
The rider does not appear on his own initiative. He rides because the Lamb breaks a seal in heaven.
The important point to notice is that the coming forth of the white horse on earth is the result of the Lamb opening the seal in heaven. The rider might be acting entirely from his own will, but here we are allowed to see the source of his activity. He might be completely unaware of it, but he is no less the instrument of the divine will. Lust of conquest might be his only motive, just as it was with Nebuchadnezzar long ago. Only God in His infinite wisdom knows how to make the wrath of man praise Him as He accomplishes His purposes.
Many read the first seal as Christ Himself, or as the spread of the gospel. Commentators here answer that a symbol proves nothing by itself.
No doubt Christ later comes from heaven on a white horse (Revelation 19:11). But a white horse only symbolises victorious power. Like the lion, the throne, the crown, and other emblems, Scripture uses it without regard to the moral character of the one it is connected with. Christ is called a lion, and so is the devil. God has a throne, and so has Satan. Christ has many crowns, and so has the dragon. The mere figure of a lion, a throne, or a crown proves nothing about the nature of the one spoken of. This must be learned from the context.
There is also the plain matter of who does what. The Lamb opens the seals, so He can hardly be the rider a seal calls out.
On the face of it, what could be stranger than to picture Him this way? He is the very One who, as the Lamb, opens the seals one by one. And when the sixth seal clearly points to Him, He still keeps the name of the Lamb!
Each part of the vision carries meaning.
The white horse speaks of the easy, bloodless conquests he makes. The bow speaks of the distant targets he reaches. The crown speaks of the success he attains.
Notice the wording: the crown was given. The man does not start out as a king, and he seizes the crown himself.
God has used others in past ages to carry out His judgments on earth, and He uses this mighty conqueror in the same way. The man is not a monarch when he first appears. He gets his crown by his energy, his strategy, or his victories. God ordains the authorities that exist. So although this successful warrior may even seize his crown, it is still given to him. No one and nothing can withstand his seemingly irresistible power, as he marches on through victory to victory.
His crown is not the royal diadem. It is the victor's wreath, and his conquest matches it.
This is clearly a mighty subduing power at work in the earth. It is not only successful but increasingly so. It wins not in man's ordinary way of overcoming, by the sword, but by a quieter yet more powerful influence. The vision shows him with a crown given to him. It is not the many diadems of power and glory that Jesus will wear when He is revealed from heaven. It is a wreath, a garland, such as men award to one another, like the conqueror's wreath at the public games.
Some keep the identification broad, refusing to name the man.
People have applied this to a great variety of things and persons — the triumphs of the gospel, Christ's coming again, Antichrist, and who knows what. But we may safely gather from the first seal that God, in judgment, employs a conqueror who is to carry everything before him. This is the notable event among men, the first thing to happen on earth after Christ comes and takes His glorified people to heaven.
Others press further and connect him with the coming Roman prince of prophecy.
There seems little reason to doubt that the seventh head of the beast is before us here… Remember that "the prince who is to come" is decisively a Roman prince. He is the one who will start that seven-year covenant with "the many" of Israel, the covenant that marks out for us the last of the seventy weeks in Daniel's prophecy.
Others see the rider as a deceiver imitating Christ. H. H. Snell reads him as a mighty deceiving and subduing power that copies Christ. Satan always tries to deceive men by imitating God, so his counterfeit rides a white horse too.
- Heaven first. The Lamb opens the seal above before the horse rides below. The order shows where the real initiative lies.
- Given, not grasped. The crown comes to a man who fights for it, yet the verse says it was given. Human ambition serves a purpose it never intended.
- Victory, not virtue. White here means winning, not holiness. Read every emblem from its setting, or the devil's lion becomes Christ's.
- A wreath, not a diadem. His is the games-winner's garland; the many diadems belong to Another, later.
- The beginning, not the end. This conquest is the first thing to happen on earth after Christ takes His people up, not the gospel's triumph and not the Lord's return.
And when it opened the second seal, I heard the second living creature saying, Come [and see].
The Lamb opens the second seal, and a second voice from the throne calls out. Who speaks, whom does the voice call, and why does a call to violence come from beside God's throne?
The riders in these seals are human forces on earth. One writer says they have no independence at all.
The horses of different colours in the first four seals stand for the human agencies used to carry out these judgments on earth. These judgments are providential in character. But as Christians we have the mind of Christ, that is, the power to discern. So we look behind the course of events and trace everything back to the unseen source, God Himself. The living creatures act for the throne. One after another they call on the human instruments of vengeance to carry out the task God appointed them. They cannot move in judgment until the throne summons them to do so. What strength this is to the heart in days of evil!
Older English versions read "Come and see." That would make the words an invitation to John. The better manuscripts read simply "Come," and that changes the sense.
It is plain enough that we should not have the words "and see" here, or after the other three horses. They are missing in the best text in all these passages. In every case the sentence should only be "Come." Here is the difference. "Come and see" would be a call to John. But in the better manuscripts the living creature says "Come" to the rider on the horse. That makes all the difference in the world.
Another writer supports this from the thunder that goes with the call:
It is hardly likely that a call to the Apostle would be accompanied with thunder. The word "Come" would be a call to the horses and riders, and with this, thunder would be quite fitting.
The second living creature is the ox. One writer sees a deliberate fit between that figure and the disaster it calls out.
When the second seal is removed, we have the call of the second living being, that is, of the ox. In answer to this call, another horse comes out, red, the colour of blood. This is not the career of a conqueror. It is a general taking away of peace — everyone's hand, as it were, against his brother. So, civil war in all its dreadful reality... This is the fitting answer to the call of the second living creature. The ox is the type of the labourer, the one who meets man's need. It pictures the service that binds all people together.
Another writer applies the same symbol to Christ Himself:
How wonderfully our Lord bowed Himself to the yoke to serve the will of God and man's need!... It is this creature that calls out the second rider, on a red horse, who takes peace from the earth. Where people refuse the peaceable service of our Lord, war and bloodshed must follow. He would have prevented them.
One writer notices how little this rider is actually given.
He receives no definite commission, only liberty and authority to take peace from the earth, so that men kill one another. This liberty and authority — the great sword — lets him do the very thing fallen man is more than ready to do when left to himself.
Some read the horsemen as pictures of the gospel spreading through the world. One writer rejects that reading outright.
The world, not the church, is the object of the judgment set out by the four horses. How absurd to look for the gospel in the white horse or any other! A war-horse of any colour never pictures spiritual work, though it is a fitting figure for aggressive power in good or evil.
One writer matches the seals with the Lord's own outline of the last days.
It has been generally recognised that these first four judgments match those the Lord speaks of as "the beginning of the birth pains." He told His disciples about the future judgments coming on the earth in prophecy. He speaks first of "wars and rumours of wars." Then comes warfare among their own — "nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom." Next the Lord foretells famines, and last of all pestilence.
- Opened — the Lamb breaks the seal in heaven before anything stirs on earth. The sequence starts with Him, not with world events.
- Called — the better text reads "Come." It is a call to the rider, not an invitation for John to look on.
- Commissioned — the agents of judgment cannot move until the throne calls them. That is a comfort in evil days.
- Contrasted — the ox stands for service that binds people together. Refuse that service, and slaughter takes its place.
- Confirmed — the seals match the Lord's list of wars, famine and pestilence, the beginning of the birth pains. They are not the gospel spreading.
And another, a red horse, went forth; and to him that sat upon it, to him it was given to take peace from the earth, and that they should slay one another; and there was given to him a great sword.
The second seal opens, and what follows is not conquest but slaughter: peace leaves the earth and men turn on each other. Two questions press — who is this rider, and where does his power come from?
The rider does not seize his power. God gives it to him. Walter Scott notes how the verse repeats the word "him":
The rider is unnamed. It is the day of the Lord's vengeance on the guilty scene. That is why the pronoun "him" is repeated. It stresses that the direct agent of judgment is a man appointed by God for that purpose — "to him it was given." Whatever motives or political ambitions may drive this coming man of blood, he is God's scourge for the time being.
The first rider won with little bloodshed. This one wins too, but he leaves a different scene behind him:
The one who sits on him is not the proud, prosperous victor whom people quietly submit to. He is one who, if he wins, waves his standard over heaps of the slain. So he has a blood-red horse — the symbol of power connected with frightful carnage. The result of the first seal may have been peace and fairly bloodless changes. Under the second seal, all is blood.
The first rider carried a bow. This rider carries a sword, and its size matters:
The Second Seal presents to us a red horse and a great sword given to its rider. Red is the colour of blood, and it speaks of immense slaughter. The great sword, in contrast to the bow, symbolises close conflict. It emphasises the thought of great bloodshed. Note, it is not only a sword, but a great sword.
Notice what the rider is not told to do. No one orders him to kill. He only gets room, and men do the rest:
He receives no definite commission. He receives only liberty and authority to take peace from the earth, and that they should kill one another. That liberty and authority — the great sword — is simply to do what fallen man is most ready and inclined to do when left to himself. Who can look back at the first scenes of man's history, after God shut him out of Eden, and not sigh at this likeness of fallen Adam stamped on our race of Cain?
The judgment here is God stepping back. He lifts the restraint, and man supplies the violence out of his own heart. Walter Scott points out who does the killing here:
He has a divine mandate "to take peace from the earth," and "that they should slay one another." Wherever he goes he stirs up the angry passions of men. It is not "nation against nation" here, but that "they should slay one another." The wild passions of men are let loose, and a time of mutual slaughter follows.
The seals run in sequence, and this one grows out of the last. The unopposed victor of the first seal does not deliver the world he promised:
With the opening of the second seal, John sees that a red horse comes forth and peace is taken from the earth. This surely shows what comes of the victorious career of the rider on the first horse. The nations rise in general revolt, fighting among themselves and shedding blood. The result is that peace is taken from the earth.
Samuel Ridout links this rider to the second of the living creatures:
The lion is the symbol of royalty; the ox is the symbol of labour. This patient animal devotes its great strength to the service of man, working willingly for his good. How wonderfully our Lord bowed Himself to the yoke, to serve the will of God and man's need!… It is this creature that calls out the second rider, on a red horse, who takes peace from the earth. Where men refuse the peaceable service of our Lord, there must be war and bloodshed, which He would have prevented.
(The ESV calls the horse "bright red" and says the rider was "permitted" to take peace. The commentators quote an older wording: "red," and "to him it was given.")
- Given — Nothing here starts with the rider. He does not seize his power; God appoints him and hands it over: "to him it was given."
- Red — The colour is the message. The first rider won without much blood. This one leaves heaps of slain behind it. Its weapon is a great sword for close fighting, not a bow for distance.
- Removed — The judgment is the withdrawal of peace. God does not command the killing; He lifts the restraint, and fallen man does what he has been ready to do since Cain.
- Refused — The ox, symbol of Christ's patient service, calls this rider forth. Where His peaceable service is turned down, war fills the space He would have spared us.
- Result — Conquest cannot deliver peace. The triumph of the first rider ends in mutual slaughter — not nation against nation, but men killing one another.
And when it opened the third seal, I heard the third living creature saying, Come [and see]. And I saw and behold, a black horse, and he that sat upon it having a balance in his hand.
Three seals in, the rider now carries not a bow or a sword but a scale, and the sound that follows is a voice pricing bread. What does a black horse with scales stand for? And why does that same voice guard the oil and the wine?
The horse's colour tells the story before any price is named. One writer explains what it signals:
The third horse is black, the colour of mourning. The colour tells us that sorrows of a special kind must follow next — caused now not by bloodshed, but by scarcity... A denarius was the daily wage. It was hardly enough for one man's daily food. The choenix of wheat seems to have been a bare minimum, since it was the ration given to a slave... God is laying His hand upon the world.
The scales mean food handed out by weight. One writer ties the image to an older siege:
The "pair of scales" in the rider's hand recalls Ezekiel's prophecy about the siege of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar's army: "I will break the supply of bread in Jerusalem, and they shall eat bread by weight and with anxiety..." (Ezek. 4:16.) It is an image that points straight to scarcity. The prices also show how extraordinarily dear the commonest necessities had become. They run at about eight times the rate current at that time.
The prices in the next verse make the picture concrete. One writer works the cost out in wages:
Here we have the "high cost of living" pushed to the limit. A "measure" (choenix) was about a quart, and counted as one person's ration for a day. A "penny," as we know from the parable of the labourers (Matt. 20), was a day's wage... So we reach this appalling conclusion. In these coming days of unmatched scarcity, a working man's whole day's earnings will buy just enough food for himself — or for one other person besides himself, if he will eat the coarser food (barley). But what is to become of his family, his children, or others who depend on him?
The famine does not fall evenly. One writer marks the dividing line:
The Third Seal gives us the black horse and the pair of scales in his hand. This speaks of what usually follows a bloody war: famine. Notice the necessities of the poor — wheat and barley — at impossible prices. Meanwhile the luxuries of the rich — the oil and the wine — go untouched.
None of this looks supernatural from the ground:
The opening of the first four seals is directly connected with the four living creatures, who are not mentioned in the last three seals. The living creatures seem to stand for God's governmental dealings in providential ways. So however terrible the judgments under the first four seals, nothing in them will show a direct, miraculous intervention by God. They will not be unlike events that have happened many times in the history of the world. They may, though, surpass in intensity anything that has yet taken place.
It is the third living creature, the one with a human face, that summons this rider. One writer draws a moral link between that face and hunger:
The face of a man suggests intelligence, sympathy and all that is truly human... Our Lord fed the poor. Because of His rejection, the third creature calls forth the third rider, who stands for famine (Rev. 6:5-6). In the Gospel of Luke we have the parable of the great supper and the Father's feast for the son who comes home. Where these are refused, a famine must come — not only for the individual, but for the world which has rejected Him.
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- Colour — Black is the shade of mourning. The horse announces the coming sorrow before any price is named: scarcity, not bloodshed.
- Scales — Balances mean bread handed out by weight. It is Ezekiel's old siege picture: food measured out because there is not enough.
- Price — A day's full wage buys one person's daily ration; a man can feed himself, but not his children.
- Line — The famine falls unequally. The poor man's wheat and barley are out of reach. The rich man's oil and wine go untouched.
- Restraint — These blows come through providence, not yet open miracle. The world has known such times before. God's hand is on it inside what still looks like ordinary history.
And I heard as a voice in the midst of the four living creatures saying, A choenix of wheat for a denarius, and three choenixes of barley for a denarius and do not injure the oil and the wine.
The third seal opens on a black horse, and its rider holds a pair of scales. A voice then prices a day's bread at a day's wage. How bad is this famine? And why does the voice spare the oil and the wine when grain goes out by weight?
Each horse in this series carries its own meaning.
The white horse is the symbol of power in victory. The red horse stands for power in bloodshed. The black horse points to power that brings in a time of grief and mourning. Here, as in Zechariah 6:2, the black horse follows the red. "Our skin was black," says the weeping prophet, "like an oven because of the terrible famine" (see Lam. 5:10; Jer. 4:28; Jude 13, etc., for the symbolic force of this colour).
The scales are not a sign of fair trading. They recall a siege, where food was so short that people weighed out every scrap.
The scales in the rider's hand recall what Ezekiel said about the siege of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar's army: "I will break the staff of bread in Jerusalem: and they shall eat bread by weight, and with care; and they shall drink water by measure, and with astonishment." (Ezek. 4:16.) It is a picture that strongly suggests scarcity. The prices given also show how dear the commonest necessities of life had become. They work out at about eight times the going rate of the time.
A modern reader hears "penny" and thinks of something small. The original figures say the opposite. A choenix is the quart of wheat the verse names.
In our country a penny suggests something of no great value. But in those times and places, a choenix of wheat for a denarius was very dear. Not long before, a man could buy seven or eight choenixes for that money. A denarius was the daily wage, and it was barely enough for one man's daily food. The choenix of wheat seems to have been a minimum, since it was the ration given to a slave.
The prices also tell us who ate what, and who could not earn at all.
Barley was generally eaten by slaves and the poor, being much cheaper than wheat and of a coarser kind. Here a denarius buys only one measure of wheat — just barely enough, and no more, to keep a person alive. But what about the many aged people, women and children who cannot work? If a denarius can only buy the food one person needs, what about the crowds who cannot work through weakness or other disability?
Commentators differ over the sparing of the oil and the wine. Some see God holding the famine back.
But while there is widespread desolation and want, God thinks of the needs of His creatures, and limits the effects of the famine by sparing the oil and the wine.
Others reject that reading and ask who really goes hungry.
People could not live on oil and wine. Wheat and barley are essentials. People saw oil and wine as luxuries, found only on the tables of the rich (Prov. 21:17; Jer. 31:12; Ps. 104:15). So the punishment under this Seal falls mainly on the working classes. The rich and the ruling classes are clearly left out. But they will not escape. Under the sixth Seal (vv. 12-17) judgment falls on all alike, from the ruler down to the slave.
The living creatures announce the famine. But the voice has a deeper source.
But the living creatures are not themselves the source of this providential chastisement. They are closely connected with the throne (Rev. 4:6), but God is the One who sits on it, and always will be. The one who sees the vision hears a voice from the very centre, from the throne of the Eternal, announcing a famine. God Himself is the source of these early, providential judgments on people on earth.
One writer sees a further lesson behind an ordinary famine.
So an ordinary famine is meant here. Yet, as already said, there is a further link. The natural is everywhere a picture of the spiritual, and it depends on the spiritual as the lesser depends on the greater. So our everyday mercies are ours through Christ alone. Take away the one, the other goes. A natural famine is the fitting result of rejecting spiritual food. With the substance goes the shadow also.
- Colour — Black is the colour of mourning, and it follows the red horse of bloodshed. War has run its course, and hunger is what it leaves behind.
- Balance — The scales mean bread handed out by weight, as in Ezekiel's siege prophecy. Food counted grain by grain is famine, not trade.
- Price — A denarius was a day's wage; a choenix was a slave's ration. So a full day's work buys one person's survival, and nothing for those who cannot work.
- Limit — The oil and wine are untouched. Commentators differ: is this God holding the famine back, or the rich escaping what crushes the poor? Either way, the sixth seal spares no one.
- Throne — The voice comes from the centre, where God sits. This hunger is not blind economics but His hand — and behind lost bread stands rejected spiritual food.
And when it opened the fourth seal, I heard [the voice of] the fourth living creature saying, Come [and see].
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And I saw and behold, a pale horse, and he that sat upon it, his name [was] Death, and hades followed with him; and authority was given to him over the fourth of the earth to slay with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and by the beasts of the earth.
Revelation 6:8 closes the first four seals, and it is the darkest: a horse the colour of a corpse, a rider named Death, and Hades coming with him. The verse raises three questions at once — who are Death and Hades, why are four different plagues named together, and why is the damage capped at a quarter of the earth?
The horse's colour matches the name of its rider.
The fourth seal was a pale, ghastly horse — the colour of death. So the name of its rider is Death, and Hades followed with him. To make the point plainer still, we are told that he was given authority over a fourth of the earth, to kill with sword, with hunger, with death (pestilence, perhaps), and by the wild animals of the earth.
Death and Hades are not the same, and each keeps something different.
The four seals deal with living men, so death, which carries them off, stands out most. Hades appears only as the one who receives those death has cut off — he acts as death's hearse, and that is why he is given no horse of his own. Hades does not follow after death; he comes with him. The two are keepers, one of men's bodies, the other of their souls. At the close of the thousand years' reign they give up their prisoners, and are themselves destroyed: they are pictured as persons and thrown into the lake of fire (Rev. 20:14). Hades means the state that follows at once after death, the state between death and resurrection, and resurrection brings it to an end. Death and Hades are here used in relation to the ungodly only. The word Hades just means "the unseen," so the English word "Hell" is not a fair equivalent for it.
Each earlier seal carried one instrument. Here four come at once, and one word in the list needs unpacking.
Each of the earlier seals names one instrument of judgment. Here there are four — the same four the Lord threatened guilty Jerusalem with long ago. The only difference is that here the "beasts" are named last, and "death," third in the list, should be read as "pestilence." The sword of the second seal and the hunger of the third come back under the fourth seal, joined by two more.
Another writer names the four from Ezekiel and shows what each one does to a land.
Death is given power over "a fourth of the earth," and comes down on it with God's four disastrous acts of judgment — "sword, famine, wild beasts, and pestilence" (Ezekiel 14:21). The sword ruins whole lands. The survivors are left with wasted fields and supplies, and die of hunger and plague. Wild animals leave their dens and prowl over the ruined country.
The three seals before this one lead here step by step.
This is the natural outcome of what has gone before. Man's pride (the white horse) wants to conquer. That offends the pride of others, and so it leads to bloodshed (the red horse). Bloodshed leads just as surely to famine (the black horse), and the pale look of death from famine, pestilence and the like (the pale horse) follows close behind.
Death rides, but Death does not decide.
We are reminded again that these judgments — their order, their character, how long they last, how severe they are — all come from the throne of God. "Authority," we read, "was given to him," not to "them." Whether the text reads "him" or "them" is disputed, but the internal evidence decides it.
One writer reads the limit as mercy at work.
Here mercy seems to step in with a tighter limit: he is given authority over a fourth of the earth... So this is the natural end of the first series of seals — a complete end, except for the limit God's mercy sets. After all, the rainbow of promise stands over these clouds of terrible judgment.
The same restraint is read as the Lord holding back what He could send in full.
In the limitations of the woes of the seal period, we see a mark of the lingering mercy of our Lord over this world, who is not willing that any should perish.
Conquest, war, hunger and plague have happened in every century, so people will explain these away.
So man would explain these things away, and the wise are caught in their own cleverness. But we know in advance, from God's word, that a time of conquest is coming — then bloody warfare, then famine, and last of all the pouring out of God's severe plagues. The heavenly saints must be set in rest and peace in the presence of God, and the church safely sheltered, before these judgments begin.
- Colour. The horse is the shade of a corpse, and its rider's name matches it: Death, with Hades at his side.
- Custody. Death holds the body, Hades the soul. Both are temporary jailers. One day they give up their prisoners and go into the lake of fire themselves.
- Four. Sword, hunger, pestilence and wild beasts — Ezekiel's four judgments, let loose together, each one growing out of the seal before it.
- Limit. Authority is given, and only over a fourth of the earth. The cap on the damage is mercy at work inside judgment.
- Warning. These blows look like ordinary history, so people will explain them away. God's word announced them in advance, and His people are sheltered before they begin.
And when it opened the fifth seal, I saw underneath the altar the souls of them that had been slain for the word of God, and for the testimony which they held;
The fifth seal breaks the pattern of the four riders. No horseman rides out over the earth. Instead John sees the dead — people killed for holding to God's word — beneath an altar in heaven. Who are they, why does the vision call them "souls," and what does it mean that they are under an altar?
The first four seals sent riders across the earth. This one turns the reader's eyes upward instead.
The Fifth Seal differs from what came before it and what follows: all its action stays in heaven. The Lamb on the throne in heaven opened the seal, and John was there too. But in this one he sees no horses going out to earth, and none of the scenes on earth found in the sixth and seventh. His vision here is entirely of heaven.
The altar in view is the altar for burnt offerings. Their place beneath it says how God regards their deaths.
The "souls under the altar" (the altar of burnt offering) plainly speak of them as a sacrifice given to God. The blood of such sacrifices was poured out at the base of the altar. In the life-blood, the soul — which is also the life — is said to be poured out. So Isaiah 53 says of Christ that He "poured out His soul to death." Here we have at once the implication that God accepts this offering of His people.
John does not see risen people, and he does not see them still alive on earth. The wording is deliberate.
Their souls appear in vision "underneath the altar." On the altar would express the whole burnt offering being offered. But underneath it — where the blood of the sin offering was poured out (Lev. 4:7) — signifies that the sacrifice is complete. The martyrdom of the saints was not taking place. The scene was over… The martyrs are not seen here in life, nor as risen, but in the separate state, "the souls of them that had been slain."
That wording also settles something about death itself:
Clearly their bodies were beheaded, for men cannot kill the soul. Their souls survived: they cried out with a loud voice, and they were told to wait for God's time to judge their enemies.
The verse names two reasons: the word of God, and the testimony they held. One writer explains why that message draws such hatred:
Here the true and real reason for their martyrdom is named, "slain for the word of God, and for the testimony which they held." The word of God, faithfully declared with its sharp claims on a person's conscience, always stirs up the hostility of the world. Those who set it out most faithfully in life and public testimony must seal that witness with their blood… "The testimony which they held" is not to the grace of God as it is now, but to the righteous claims of God in setting up His kingdom on earth… The sacrificial word "slain" fits the special character of these witnesses, who are probably Jewish.
Commentators differ over who these sufferers are. Many take them to be Christians. One writer answers from the character of their prayer:
Many people think that those in question are Christians. But if we look more closely at the passage, we may learn that this again confirms that the church has already been removed to heaven. Is their prayer or desire in keeping with the grace of the gospel?… Take Stephen's prayer, following our blessed Lord, the pattern of all that is perfect. On the other hand we have similar language elsewhere: but where? In the Psalms and the Prophets.
Their cry gets an answer: a white robe, and a wait.
Their cry, "How long," shows that they know there is a limit to the persecution of God's people… Others are still to follow before the time of judgment is over. So they are told to wait a while longer, until the martyrdom of their brothers is complete. The white robes witness to their practical righteousness and so to God's approval. They witnessed for God as the Holy and the True, and men opposed and killed them, but God approved them and will avenge their blood.
- Seen — the fifth seal shows no rider and no disaster on earth. The whole scene is in heaven.
- Sacrificed — "under the altar" marks their lives as an offering God accepts, and the sacrifice as finished.
- Surviving — "souls" is exact: men killed their bodies, not them. They cry out, they are heard, and they are not yet risen.
- Silenced — they died for the word of God and the testimony they held. Faithful witness is what the world will not tolerate.
- Still waiting — the answer to "how long" is a white robe of approval now, and a wait until their brothers' martyrdom is complete.
and they cried with a loud voice, saying, How long, O sovereign Ruler, holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell upon the earth?
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And there was given to them, to each one a white robe; and it was said to them that they should rest yet a little while, until both their fellow-bondmen and their brethren, who were about to be killed as they, should be fulfilled.
Under the fifth seal, martyrs cry out for justice. This verse is God's answer — but not the answer they asked for. He gives them two things: a robe, and a word about waiting. Both raise the same question. Why does judgment on their killers wait at all?
Does the white robe mean these martyrs have already been raised? One writer says no, and explains what it does mean.
Their being under the altar means simply that they had offered their bodies to God as sacrifices for the truth. The white robes are the witness of their righteousness — God's declared approval of them; but the time for their being avenged was not yet. I do not think that giving white robes is resurrection. The first resurrection is sovereign grace. It gives us the same place with Christ — "forever with the Lord." It follows on His work, and on His being our righteousness, which is the same for all of us. White robes given in this way are the recognition of the righteousness (righteousnesses) of the saints. So they are seen in Revelation 19:8, at His appearing. "They will walk with me in white, for they are worthy."
The robe is not handed to the group as a crowd. Each sufferer receives one.
God hears the cry for vengeance, but delays the answer. In the meantime the Lord gives a token of special approval. He singles out each one of the martyred band for honour and vindication. "Then they were each given a white robe."
God tells them to rest, but they stay where the vision found them. Their state is set against that of the elders, who are already raised.
White robes are given them as tokens of Christ's approval. But they are still left as souls under the altar; not raised like the elders, who are already perfected by the redemption of their bodies. There are other martyrs yet to die, and they must remain until these also have suffered.
The robe is not a throne either. Their reign is still ahead of them.
God has vindicated them, though they do not take their place on thrones until Revelation 20. Spirits without bodies are never said to sit there. When they enter the blessedness meant for them above, we do not read of glorified spirits, but of bodies. They will reign with Christ.
The delay is not indifference. Kelly gives two reasons for it. God has more witnesses still to gather, and evil must first run its full course.
Another class of martyrs must yet be made up… No account of the killing of these saints appears here: we must look for it in other and later parts of the book. Meanwhile the earlier sufferers enjoy the result of righteousness, and God owns them. But they must wait. A new and distinct band of martyred brothers has still to be filled up, and these are to suffer right up to the close. Then retribution will come. Wickedness must reach its height and do its worst before the hour of full divine judgment. Another and final outburst of persecution must come first. But notice here too: not one of them is offered the hope that the Lord will take them away without passing through death.
The "fellow servants" and "brothers" are not the same group as those already killed.
The time of vengeance was measured by "a little while." Another company would swell the ranks of the noble army of martyrs. Here they are called "fellow servants" and "brothers." These verses point to two separate companies of martyred saints. The earlier company was killed under the fifth seal. The later company is killed at a following period, here called "a little while." The cry from "under the altar" can have no full answer until this second group of the martyred band is complete.
The short rest has an end. It comes when the last of these witnesses has suffered and the company is complete.
Here we have the complete company of God's faithful witnesses. They lived in the time between the coming of Christ for the church and His appearing. They did not count their lives dear to them, but sealed their testimony with their blood. They are now seen to have the blessed reward of a part in the first resurrection. The witnesses of our chapter belong to this company. Meanwhile God gives them white robes as a token of His approval and recognition of their faithfulness.
- Approved — the white robe is God's declared approval of their righteousness — His public verdict on them.
- Personal — each one receives a robe. No sufferer is lost in the crowd.
- Unfinished — the robe is not resurrection. They are still souls under the altar, and their thrones come later.
- Delayed — vengeance waits. A second company must still be killed, and wickedness must reach its height.
- Completed — when the last martyr falls, the whole company shares in the first resurrection and reigns. Then the cry from under the altar is answered.
And I saw when it opened the sixth seal, and there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as hair sackcloth, and the whole moon became as blood,
With the sixth seal, creation itself looks like it is falling apart. Two questions press on any reader. Is this a literal collapse of the universe? And has the day of God's wrath arrived?
The seal before this one ended in a cry to God. What follows is not silence:
The next seal shows that God was not indifferent in the meantime. The sixth seal may be seen as something like an immediate result of that earlier cry. When it opens, a vast upheaval follows — a thorough shaking of everything above and below, set out in symbols, as in the previous seals.
The earlier seals brought war, famine and death. One writer sees the earthquake as where those things end:
The Sixth Seal is the logical outcome of the previous seals. War, bloodshed, famine, pestilence, fearful conditions of life, lead to great political upheaval. The great earthquake speaks of a mighty convulsion of ordered society. Anarchy will sweep all before it.
Older translations read "sackcloth of hair." The cloth was real, and so was its use:
This cloth of goats' hair was used for tents. It was probably also what we call sackcloth: "The sun became black as sackcloth of hair" (Revelation 6:12). People wore it when they mourned, and when they humbled their souls in repentance.
Other passages fix what the sun stands for:
The sun symbolizes the supreme governing authority (Genesis 37:9; Revelation 12:1). "Black as hair sackcloth" points to the darkening power of Satan. It shows the supreme authority of earth, on which everyone depended, in total collapse. The darkening of the heavenly bodies is a dreadful disaster in the physical world, and that is what makes the figure fit here.
The moon carries the same picture one level down. Older wording reads "the whole moon" where the ESV has "the full moon":
The "whole moon" pictures all authority that comes straight from the supreme power and depends on it. In the physical world the moon is a secondary body, and it stands for borrowed authority in the moral world. It is also the chosen picture of Israel, depending on Christ the Sun of Righteousness… "Became as blood." This points to the moral death and falling away of every lesser authority. "Blood" is a universal figure of death.
The strongest argument against a literal reading is what such a reading would leave behind:
This is worth noting. If heaven itself were really rolled up like a scroll, and every mountain and island really moved out of its place, no place would be left to hide in. So to take it as anything other than a symbolic picture would contradict itself… It is a complete overturning of authority, high and low, an unequalled upheaval of every class of people. It overturns the foundations of power and authority for the world, and fills men's minds with the fear that the day of judgment has come.
Commentators differ here. Some read the vision as symbol only. Others allow real physical upheaval as well. L. M. Grant writes that "while there will no doubt be physical disturbances such as a great earthquake and the sun, the moon and the stars affected, yet the spiritual significance of these things is of far greater importance."
The people under this seal are sure the end has come. They are wrong about the timing, and their hearts stay the same:
There is no repentance, no cry for mercy, merely a terror of vengeance… But their horror is premature. The judgments preceding the great day of wrath have begun; but not the day itself. God will let man go on a little longer in his sin, to show that this fear does not change his heart. With him, as with Pharaoh, each judgment that passes only makes his heart harder.
- Cause — The seal answers the cry that came before it. God is not indifferent, and the shaking is His reply.
- Collapse — The earthquake finishes what war, famine and death began. Ordered society breaks apart into anarchy.
- Crown — The blackened sun pictures the world's highest authority put out. The moon like blood shows every borrowed authority dying with it.
- Caution — The picture is symbolic. People could not hide in mountains that had already moved. Commentators differ on how much real disturbance comes with it.
- Consequence — People read the signs as wrath, and they are right. They read them as the end, and they are wrong. Terror is not repentance.
and the stars of heaven fell upon the earth, as a fig tree, shaken by a great wind, casts its unseasonable figs.
Stars drop from the sky like unripe figs in a gale. Is this a forecast about the night sky, or a picture of something else falling?
John saw the sky come apart, but the writers press readers not to picture literal falling stars. One commentator tests the picture by taking it literally, and finds that the timing will not work:
There can be no real question that the description is figurative. If we took it literally, we would clearly be at the end of the Millennium itself, since the first heaven does not pass away until then, and that is what is pictured here... In people's minds the day of the Lamb's wrath has already come. But we will find that much comes in between before it really arrives, near as it may be.
William Kelly gets to the same place by another route. What John saw were signs, and their meaning still has to be worked out.
This is only how it appeared to John in the vision. We are not to suppose that heaven and earth will be physically thrown into chaos when this prediction comes true. He saw all this before his eyes as signs, and we have to consider what they mean.
Commentators differ on how far the symbols rule out literal events. One writer expects real upheaval, and still puts the weight elsewhere:
There will no doubt be physical disturbances, such as a great earthquake and the sun, the moon and the stars affected. Yet the spiritual meaning of these things is far more important.
Each light in the sky answers to a rank of power:
The sun, that is, supreme authority, becomes black. The moon, that is, subordinate authority, becomes like blood. The stars of heaven, the lower authorities, fall. Heaven itself departs too, that is, the whole scene of government. The complete overthrow of all earthly authority takes place.
Walter Scott presses the detail of which figs fall:
All the lesser authorities — individual rulers, both civil and religious — morally fell from their high position. They gave up God and their relationship with Him. The unripe, out-of-season figs are the ones hidden under the leaves that never ripen, and a strong wind throws them off in winter. When the wintry winds of God's wrath sweep across the scene, those who were never truly His will openly turn away from Him. However high their position, they will drop every outward connection with Him.
If stars belong to the sky, a star on the ground has changed its level. One writer asks who these stars are:
The stars of heaven stand for those who claim to have spiritual light. Their falling to the earth in great numbers points to a widespread falling away — a giving up of any claim to heaven, and a drop to the level of earthly-mindedness. Having no stability, the wind of hard circumstances shakes them easily.
Why a fig tree and not any tree? One writer sees a target in the choice:
The fig tree is so often a symbol of the Jew. So the reference to it may show that this upheaval will affect that people in particular, and so prepare the way for the acceptance of antichrist.
Strip out every rank of authority, and this is what is left:
The whole structure of civil and governmental power on earth breaks up. Disorder rules everywhere. It is not simply the collapse of this or that government. It is the total overthrow of all governing authority, both the highest and the ranks under it... What an awful scene to think about! A world without a magistrate! Without even the appearance of rightful power! Without government! Without any authority to restrain!
One writer sets the scene against the present moment:
In Revelation 6:13 we read of those coming events, when the very stars of heaven will fall to earth... We need to remind ourselves that "now is the day of salvation."
- Signs, not sky. John saw a vision. Read the falling stars as physical fact and the timing collapses. They are signs, and we have to work out what they mean.
- Stars are rulers. Sun, moon and stars picture supreme, subordinate and lower authority. Falling stars are the lesser powers losing their place.
- Unripe fruit falls. The figs blown off never ripened under the leaves. They stand for people who held a high position but were never truly God's.
- Down means out. The fall is moral before it is political. People with no stability give up any claim to heaven and sink to the level of earthly-mindedness.
- A world with no magistrate. The end of the picture is not one toppled government. It is government itself gone. That is why the verse points to today, while it is still the day of salvation.
And the heaven was removed as a book rolled up, and every mountain and island were removed out of their places.
The sixth seal reaches its climax here. Is this the physical universe coming apart, or a picture of something else? The answer shapes how you read the whole chapter.
Earlier in the seal, authorities fell one by one. Here the structure they all stood in gives way. The writer below quotes an older translation, which says heaven where the ESV says sky.
"The heaven was removed as a book rolled up." The political, civil, and religious systems, the constitution, bonds, and framework of society, will disappear as completely as a rolled-up scroll becomes unreadable. The physical removal of the heaven (Rev. 21:1) and of the heavens (2 Peter 3:10) is one of the most staggering events the Word of God records. That does not mean the dwelling place of God, of saints, and of angels, of course. But the entire ending of all governmental order — the moral heaven — is one of the most dreadful events still to come. We have had the ruin of all greater and lesser authorities, but here the whole system in which they were placed itself collapses.
Stated more briefly, the picture is of authority losing not just its holders but its seat.
Heaven rolled as a scroll is the whole seat and place of authority overturned; and so of mountains and islands — the stable seats of authority overturned, and what was ordered, and rose above the vague mass of peoples, removed.
The reason for not taking the words woodenly comes from the passage itself. The terrified men of the following verses run to the mountains for cover — which makes no sense if the mountains have literally ceased to exist.
If heaven were literally removed as a scroll, and every mountain and island moved out of its place, there would be no place left to hide in. That much is obvious. So to take it as anything other than symbolic representation would be self-contradictory... The prophet did see these objects, heavenly and earthly, in utter confusion. But we must look for the meaning by the ordinary rules of interpretation. It is a complete revolution of authority high and low, an unmatched convulsion of all classes of mankind within its own sphere. Its effect is to overturn the foundations of power and authority for the world, and to fill men's minds with the fear that the day of judgment has come.
Another writer gives two more reasons. One is a matter of timing. The other is an Old Testament passage that uses almost the same words.
There can be no real question that the description is figurative. If we took it literally, we would plainly be at the end of the thousand-year reign itself, for not until then does the first heaven pass away, as it is pictured here... Isaiah 34 is a prophecy of the destruction of Edom and the desolation that follows it. There we read, "All the host of heaven shall rot away, and the skies roll up like a scroll." ... The words in their setting show that we cannot take the breaking up of the heavens literally... On the other hand, the meaning as a symbol is not hard to grasp. Even in a physical sense, the heavens rule the earth. Scripture uses them in this way to picture earthly government.
The two nouns are not decoration. Each carries a settled meaning drawn from the prophets.
A mountain represents a system of settled power (Dan. 2:35; Jer. 51:25) — a long established, stable, and powerful government. The Jews saw islands as sources of wealth, as centres of trade and commerce (Isa. 23:2; Ezek. 27:3-15). This verse declares the removal of all that people count lasting and great, and of the sources of wealth and commerce too.
Another writer reads the islands differently, and adds a reason for the sky being rolled up at all.
Men have rejected heaven's rule. So the heaven departing as a rolled-up scroll means that God will leave them for a time exposed to the results of their own folly. It is as if He rolls up the scroll of His direct government. The mountains removed speak of the overthrow of the solid powers of government. The islands show neutral powers who will not be able to stay out of the general upheaval: they cannot keep their neutrality.
What makes the scene so grim is not the loss of one government but the loss of government.
It is not simply the collapse of this or that government. It is the total overthrow of all governing authority, both supreme and dependent... The coming crash will sweep into one catastrophe everything on earth that people think secure and strong. It will create a vast civil, social, and political chaos. What an awful scene to contemplate! A world without a magistrate! Without even the appearance of rightful power! Without government!
- Rejected — men refuse heaven's rule first. The rolled-up scroll is God's answer: He leaves them exposed to their own folly.
- Rolled up — the sky as a scroll pictures the whole framework of civil, political and religious order. It becomes as unreadable as a closed book.
- Removed — mountains stand for settled governments. Islands stand for wealth and trade, or for neutral powers with no place to stand apart.
- Read rightly — the language is symbolic. In the next verses men beg the mountains to hide them, which is impossible if the mountains are gone.
- Result — not one government falling, but government itself gone: a world with no rightful power left.
And the kings of the earth, and the great, and the chiliarchs, and the rich, and the strong, and every bondman and freeman, hid themselves in the caves and in the rocks of the mountains;
Under the sixth seal the sky darkens and the mountains shift. Everyone from thrones down to slaves runs for cover, which raises two questions: what is collapsing, and why does terror on this scale produce no repentance?
The imagery of quaking earth and falling stars points to the breakdown of rule itself.
The whole fabric of civil and governmental power on earth breaks up. Disorder reigns supreme. This is not just the collapse of one government or another. It is the total overthrow of all governing authority, both the highest and the ranks beneath it... A world without a magistrate! Without even the appearance of rightful power! Without government! With no power left to restrain evil!
The verse gives its own clue that these signs are pictures, not physics: the people are still hiding somewhere.
This is worth noting. If heaven were really rolled away like a scroll, and every mountain and island moved out of its place, there could be no place left to hide. To take it as anything other than a symbolic picture would contradict itself... It is a complete revolution of authority, high and low, an upheaval without parallel among all classes of people, within its own sphere.
The list is not random. Its shape shows who is caught. The word "chiliarchs" below is what ESV calls "generals."
The verse lists seven classes of people, and, as usual, these again fall into two groups of three and four. The first is made up of those who govern: "kings," the highest and most exalted; "the great," or princes; and "chiliarchs," the military commanders. The second group is the class that holds no office, given in pairs: "the rich" and "the powerful," "slave and free."
Rank, wealth, skill and strength all fail at once. The shelter they run to says the rest.
All of them together, great and small, sink to the same level: their hearts fail them for fear. They hide themselves, but not in the secret of God's presence (Ps. 31:19-20). They prefer the dens and rocks of the mountains, which stand for the human institutions people call solid and which have now been so shaken. Though they feel that this is God's judgment and the wrath of the Lamb, they do not repent. They think only of escaping the judgment by protection they have improvised themselves. Yet, little as they realise it, they are in effect inviting their own destruction.
Nothing in the text says God has appeared. The panic comes from inside.
They had been making themselves happy without God... God does not appear in the judgment; but man has a conscience. So, faced with this dreadful blow, all alike fear the wrath of God and of the Lamb... His warriors even tremble in the felt presence of a God whose very existence they had until now denied.
The cry that follows — that the great day has come — is reported speech. Who says it matters.
They say in their alarm that His great day has come. God does not say so. He reveals that this is the thought and language of their fear. Those are two very different things, and many readers, old and new, confuse them in their shortsightedness. For how could the seventh seal follow, if the sixth were really the end of man's day?
The panic proves to be a mood, not a change of heart. When the Lord appears, these same men take up arms against Him.
Their alarm and fear seem to have passed, and unbelief has taken their place in their hearts. They are in full league with the Man of Sin against Christ... Then men will be bold indeed in their hostility to the Lamb, instead of being overwhelmed with anguish and terror, as at the time of the sixth seal.
The instinct itself is as old as the garden of Eden.
Adam and Eve had disobeyed God's word. They were afraid, so they tried to hide from His presence among the trees of the garden. People will try to hide in the same useless way on a huge scale in the future.
The name they hide from is the gentlest name for Christ in this book.
There is something fearful in the thought of a world crying out for shelter "from the wrath of the Lamb." It is the wrath of the meek and lowly One, who "was wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for our iniquities." But it is a solemn truth. The same voice that now says, "Come to me," will one day say, "Depart from me, you cursed," if His tender invitations are refused. Now is the day of salvation. Then is the day of judgment. Every arrow of judgment will surely be barbed by the memory of grace refused.
- Shaken — the earthquake, dark sun and falling stars picture the collapse of all governing authority, not one nation's fall.
- Symbolic — if heaven were really rolled up and every mountain removed, no cave would be left to hide in. So read the scene as a vision with meaning.
- Levelled — the verse names seven ranks, three who govern and four who do not, and every one of them ends with the same failing heart.
- Mistaken — the cry that the great day has come is what terrified men say, not what God says. The seventh seal still lies ahead.
- Sheltered — they hide in shaken human institutions instead of in God. The wrath they flee is the Lamb's, and His invitation still stands today.
and they say to the mountains and to the rocks, Fall on us, and have us hidden from [the] face of him that sits upon the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb;
The sixth seal shatters the whole social order. Every class of people reacts the same way: not a prayer for mercy, but a scramble to get out of sight. And they ask rocks to shield them from a throne — and from a Lamb.
Here Christ carries the title that pictures Him as the sacrificial victim. In this scene the roles switch.
In Revelation 6:12-17 it is not the walk, nor the work, nor the worship, but the wrath of the Lamb that we find... What? the wrath of the Lamb? Yes, a paradox, but an awful fact; a seeming contradiction, but a terrible truth! You who despise Him, tremble! The hand you nailed to the cross will hold the sceptre. The brow you tore with the crown of thorns will wear the crown of glory. The One who was led as a Lamb to the slaughter will sit as Judge on the throne.
Far from softening the judgment, the title is what makes it unbearable.
When John looks for the Lion of the tribe of Judah, he sees a "Lamb as though it had been slain." And when wrath is ready to fall on men, Scripture still calls it "the wrath of the Lamb." Indeed, that is what makes it so terrible. It is the wrath of love itself. It is the judgment of One with whom judgment is a "strange work." It is judgment so unsparing because love itself moves the arm and guides the blow. It is judgment for which there is no remedy... It is judgment that no prayer can turn aside.
The One they dread is the same One who broke the seals. Even the name chosen for Him works against the thought of wrath.
In the Book of Revelation we see that the One who sets all the judgments moving, by opening the seals, is the Lamb... I cannot imagine any wrath belonging to Christ as the Lamb — but that is what the princes and leaders of this world will say... Why, you can hardly imagine anything more simple and gentle than a little lamb! Yet the world-leaders dread His wrath, because they know nothing of His atoning sacrifice. In the first chapter of John the word is the ordinary one for lamb, amnos. But when we see Him on the throne in Revelation the word is arnion, a smaller form of the word — a "little Lamb"!
They fear two: the One on the throne and the Lamb. Yet God has not appeared. The cry rises from inside the men themselves.
God does not appear in the judgment. But man has a conscience. So when this terrible disaster comes, all alike are afraid of the wrath of God and of the Lamb. Where now is man's courage? Even man's warriors tremble as they feel the presence of a God whose very existence they had denied until now.
Fear moves them, but it does not change them. They want escape, not forgiveness.
There is no repentance and no cry for mercy. There is only terror of vengeance, and a frantic wish to escape. It shows in their call to the mountains and rocks to fall on them and hide them from the dreaded wrath... Man will be allowed to go on a little longer in his sin. This will show that fear does not change his heart. With him, as with Pharaoh, each judgment, once past, only makes his hardness worse.
But does their panic prove that the day of wrath has actually arrived?
Revelation 6:16-17 does not show that the day itself has come. It shows a terrible upheaval that produced this fear in men's minds. They said, "the great day of His wrath has come." The Spirit did not say it... These are words of human terror, not God's own words — except that God foretold that men's hearts would fail them for fear.
The same Lamb meets people in two ways. What a person does with Him now decides which.
This present age proclaims God in grace. He is pleading with men to be reconciled to Him. But those who refuse to know Him in this great salvation must come to know Him later in judgment. If a person despises the blood of the Lamb, he must face the wrath of the Lamb.
- Lamb. The One who opens the seals is the sacrificial Lamb. The hand once nailed to the cross will hold the sceptre. The One led to slaughter will sit as Judge.
- Love. What makes this wrath so terrible is that it is the wrath of love itself — unsparing because love guides the blow.
- Conscience. God does not appear in this scene. The cry rises because men have a conscience. Even those who denied His existence tremble.
- Hardening. Their terror brings no repentance and no plea for mercy, only a wish to escape. Like Pharaoh, each judgment leaves the heart harder.
- Now. This cry is human panic, not God's word that the day has come. Grace still calls today. But whoever despises the blood of the Lamb must face His wrath tomorrow.
because the great day of his wrath is come, and who is able to stand?
The sixth seal brings the whole structure of the world crashing down. Kings and slaves cry out together, and their cry ends in a question no one on the scene can answer: who can stand?
Falling stars and a blackened sun belong to the language of government, not astronomy. One writer reads the scene as the collapse of every order men lean on, and follows it through to their consciences:
With the opening of the sixth seal, the judgments will take a more terrible form... Earthquakes would picture the breaking up of all social, religious, and political order. The statements about the sun, moon, and stars would picture the complete overthrow of everyone who governs, from the highest to the lowest. The mountains and islands being removed out of their places set out the break-up of empires. These upheavals will look so terrible to men that they will be struck in conscience as they see the hand of God at work, and will fear that the great day of His wrath has come. But, having rejected the testimony of God's witnesses, they say, "Who will be able to stand?"
The panic runs the whole length of society, from thrones down to slave quarters. One writer shows what the terror uncovers in people who had denied God:
Every class of society, from the kings of the earth down to the poor slaves, is filled with abject terror. They had been making themselves happy without God. Like Belshazzar, they were feasting to their hearts' content with their wicked enjoyments. But even as they feasted, the whole framework of man's order, on which they had been resting in imagined security, is struck and shattered into ten thousand pieces. God does not appear in the judgment; but man has a conscience, and so they all fear the wrath of God and of the Lamb. Where now is man's courage? His warriors even tremble in the felt presence of a God whose very existence they had until then denied.
Who is speaking here changes the timing of everything that follows:
Men will see every established authority here below overturned. The effect will be that they think the day of the Lord has come... It is an error to confuse their saying so with God's declaration. It is not He but they who cry that the great day of the wrath has come. There is no excuse for so mistaken an interpretation. These frightened crowds exclaim it. But in fact the great day does not arrive until a long time afterwards, as Revelation itself proves.
Commentators differ on how far that day had already begun. One writer holds that the worst was still ahead, yet a door had already shut behind these people:
Though the climax of "the great day of His wrath" was not yet, they had entered on that day, for the day of God's grace in the gospel was closed. Men may stand in God's grace, but no one can stand before His wrath.
The verse says "their wrath" — the wrath of the One on the throne and of the Lamb together; some translations read "His wrath". One writer turns to the people who once condemned that Lamb:
What? The wrath of the Lamb? Yes, a paradox, but an awful fact; a seeming contradiction, but a terrible truth! You who despise Him, tremble! That hand which you nailed to the cross will hold the sceptre. That brow which you tore with the crown of thorns will wear the crown of glory. He who was led as a Lamb to the slaughter will sit as a Judge on the throne.
What follows this cry is not the end, but a pause filled with mercy:
After this, so far is the great day of His wrath from being come, that we find in the parenthesis of Revelation 7 God carrying out mighty works of saving mercy. The first is the sealing of 144,000 out of the tribes of Israel... Next the prophet sees a crowd of Gentiles that no one could number.
The chapter leaves their question hanging. One writer answers it:
When the great day of His wrath has come, who will be able to stand? Who? The great, the mighty, the noble of the earth? Who? The well-disposed, the upright, the moral? Only those who are redeemed "with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot."
- Collapse. The shaking is political. Earthquake, dark sun and falling stars picture every ruling power broken, from empires down to local rulers.
- Conscience. No judge appears in the sky. Men who had denied God's existence panic, because conscience tells them whose hand is shaking the world.
- Cry. The words are man's panic, not God's verdict. One writer holds the great day itself is still far off; another says the day of gospel grace had already closed.
- Lamb. The One they hide from is the Lamb they crucified; the hand they nailed will hold the sceptre.
- Stand. Rank, morality and courage give no footing. Only those redeemed by the blood of the Lamb can stand — and God is still saving people even then.