Original Meaning

WHENEVER JOHN NOTES, “And I saw,” he reports the next scene he sees, but its content may or may not follow chronologically the scene he has just reported. In this passage, however, we have no compelling reason to doubt that it follows the preceding scene (cf. 6:2; 1 Enoch 86:1, 3).

Jewish traditions often portray books or tablets in heaven containing God’s heavenly moral decrees, people’s destinies in life, or people’s eternal destinies (1 En. 103:2). Although the book in this text is never specifically identified, it may well represent the Lamb’s book of life, hence the Lamb’s legacy for his people (Rev. 13:8; 17:8; 20:12, 15; 21:27; see comment on 3:5). While some could suggest that the heavenly scroll is the prototype of this book of Revelation, reporting God’s decrees for history (1:11; 22:7–10, 18–19), Revelation remains unsealed (22:10).

Most ancient people wrote on only one side of a scroll, generally the “front” (the recto, whose fibers lay horizontally, hence making writing easier). They usually employed the back (the verso) only if they ran out of space on the front.1 The scroll in the present text (recalling the scroll containing judgments in Ezek. 2:10; see comment on Rev. 10:8) clearly has a lot to say. Then the scroll’s user would roll the scroll up, tying it shut with a thread or, in legal documents meant to prevent tampering, several threads.

Legal documents normally closed by listing witnesses, usually about six in number.2 Such documents were normally sealed shut with hot wax over the threads that tied the scroll closed; then witnesses would press their personal seals (usually from signet rings) into the hot wax, making an impression that matched their distinctive seal and attested that they were the witnesses. No one could open the scroll without breaking the hardened wax seals that held the threads in place, and no one could replace such seals without the witnesses’ rings; hence no one could tamper with the legal document until it was time to publicly open it.3 While the witnesses remained alive, one could also recall them to testify to the validity of their seals, though the seals in Revelation can hardly be fabricated (6:1–17).4

Seals reserved the contents of a document for its rightful recipient and authenticated the document with witnesses who attested it. Some apocalyptists envisioned heavenly scrolls as sealed documents to prevent any accusation of tampering (1 En. 89:71). Some traditions allowed these seals broken only by high angels before the document was handed to God (3 En. 27:2); the opening of such books might lead to the sending of angels to execute judgment (3 En. 32:1). Thus one might think of a sealed book of judgments (Isa. 29:11). Like the scroll here, the scroll in Ezekiel 2:9–10 contains writing on both front and back, emphasizing the great quantity of suffering in judgment that the book records.

Here, however, the judgments are not the contents of the book but the attesting witnesses in the seals (6:1–17).5 If this is the Lamb’s book of life, God’s judgments in history authenticate the promised inheritance of the saints. (The most likely alternative, as noted above, would be to view the seals as the outside of the book, followed by other judgments written throughout the scroll as in Ezekiel, so that the “scroll” essentially becomes the book of Revelation. Like Ezekiel in Ezek. 2:9–3:3, John finds the content of the book bitter [Rev. 10:2–10].)

God holds the book in an open hand, and one of his angels issues the invitation (or challenge) to all creation: Who can open the book (5:3)?6 Normally a scroll should be “loosed” (have its seals broken) only by those to whom it is addressed; moreover, these seals, on a book in the right hand of the living God, are too strong for ordinary mortals to break. After hailing God as worthy of all power (4:11), who can presume to be “worthy” (5:2) to have strength (“could,” 5:3) to open it? Not yet recognizing that the Lamb is also worthy of all power (5:12), John is traumatized with despair over the situation: The universe appears to lack a champion, and John weeps (klaio, a term for the most dramatic form of mourning, 5:4).

But finally one of God’s worshipers, perhaps a representative of God’s redeemed people (see comment on 4:4; cf. 7:13), comforts John: The Lion from the tribe of Judah is the triumphant champion, and he has conquered (5:5).7 The image of the Lion from Judah comes from Genesis 49:9–10, which Jewish people usually applied to the Davidic Messiah (4 Ezra 12:31–32).8 The “Root of David” is the Messiah who comes from the truncated house of David (Isa. 11:1), anointed by the Spirit (11:2) and appointed to rule all the nations with peace (11:3–10; cf. Jer. 23:5; 33:15; Zech. 3:8; 6:12; 1QH 6.15; 7.19; 8.6–10). Early Judaism recycled the imagery of this passage to represent a mighty warrior prince.9

But here the central paradox of Revelation and of Christian faith in general comes to the fore: Jesus conquered not by force but by death, not by violence but by martyrdom. The Lion is a Lamb! Regularly in ancient literature, lions functioned as images of great strength—the courageous, powerful rulers of the animal kingdom (cf. Rev. 9:8, 17; 10:3).10 Even Jewish texts use the image of a lion for courage and power in general more often than specifically for the Messiah.11 John turns, expecting to witness a powerful hero. Yet the Lamb, by contrast, provides an image of helplessness.12 Lambs were the most vulnerable of sheep, and sheep were among the weakest of creatures, typically contrasted with predators.13

Most significantly for John, this is a slaughtered lamb, a sacrificed lamb. Plagues will fall on the disobedient world (Rev. 6–16), but just as the blood of the Passover lamb delivered Israel from the climactic plague (Ex. 12:23), so Jesus’ blood will protect his people during God’s judgments on humanity (Rev. 7:3). Jesus’ victory is like a new exodus (5:9–10; 15:3), and Jesus himself is the new Lamb (cf. 1 Cor. 5:7).14

What do the “horns” (5:6) mean? One might speak of horned lambs in apocalyptic symbolism (1 En. 90:9), but horns also appear on literal Passover lambs (tos. Pisha 6:7—though male lambs would grow two horns, not seven). John’s reinterpretation of traditional symbolism goes beyond any models of his contemporaries, however, to communicate a uniquely Christian viewpoint. Horns in prophetic literature sometimes represent power (Dan. 7:7–24; 8:3–22), but here the power is not human power, but the seven spirits of God (Rev. 5:6); this alludes to the ancient prophecy that the Jewish king must prevail not by human strength but by the power of the Spirit (Zech. 4:6).

John identifies the horns here with seven eyes (5:6), which he probably understands as representing the Spirit in Zechariah’s vision (Zech. 3:9; 4:6, 10) as well as the seven lamps (4:2; Rev. 4:5). But in Zechariah, the eyes that watch over God’s purposes and his people belong to God himself; their application to Jesus the Lamb provides a clue to Jesus’ true, exalted identity.15 Jesus’ location by the throne (Rev. 5:6) may also suggest a status that some texts reserve for divine Wisdom (Wisd. 9:4; cf. 3 En. 10:1); but Jesus’ status is higher even than divine Wisdom, for he ultimately sits in the midst of the throne, sharing the Father’s supreme reign (Rev. 7:17; 22:1, 3; though cf. also 3:21).

One of the many sorts of documents in the ancient world sealed by witnesses was a will (often sealed with six witnesses, though seven witnesses also appear).16 Once it was attested that the person who made the will was genuinely dead, the seals would be broken and the will opened, making public its contents. In this way the veracity of its contents was guarded.17 It may be significant here that it is only after the Lamb has been slain that the book can be opened (5:6); if this book is the Lamb’s book of life, his legacy for his followers, it becomes theirs through his self-sacrifice. Many interpreters thus understand the book in this passage as Jesus’ testament.18

In any case, Jesus “took” the scroll from God’s hand (5:7); the verb’s perfect tense may suggest that he not only receives the book but that he still holds it, hence reigns over the events of human history. What would most astound a traditional Jewish hearer, however, was what follows: The heavenly chorus offers not to God the Father but to Jesus the prayers of the saints (5:8), prayers that directly invite the plagues he will soon release for their vindication (6:10; 8:4–6).19 Worship apparatus like censers in heaven would not be surprising (Apoc. Mos. 33:4); incense offerings were standard in the temple, so a heavenly temple would be incomplete without them; golden bowls were considered the most exotic.20 Harps (as in Rev. 5:8; 14:2; 15:2) also belong in the heavenly temple (cf. 1 Chron. 15:16; 16:5; 25:1, 3, 6).21

Furthermore, Jewish people had long envisioned one of the chief angels presenting the prayers of the saints before God (Tob. 12:15); in one line of tradition the archangel Michael presents before God a massive bowl containing the righteous deeds of the saints (3 Bar. 11:8–9).22 The astonishing feature here is that a Lamb receives worship in God’s heaven (5:12), sharing with God himself as its object (5:13).23

Often worshipers in the time of the first temple offered God a “new song” (5:9; 14:3), perhaps implying a freshly inspired song in addition to the repertoire of praises already available (Ps. 33:3; 40:3; 96:1; 98:1; 144:9; 149:1; Isa. 42:10). Israel sang hymns to celebrate God’s redemption of their people from Egypt in the Passover and Exodus (Ex. 15:3; cf. m. Pes. 10:5); they especially used Psalms 113–18 to commemorate that event. Further, part of what early became regular synagogue liturgy celebrates God’s choosing his people “from among all nations and tongues.”24

But the perspective of the true heavenly chorus celebrates an even more critical focus of God’s activity in history: the redemption of saints from among all nations by the blood of a new Passover Lamb (5:9). Like ancient Israel (Ex. 19:6), these people will also be a “kingdom and priests” (Rev. 5:10; see comment on 1:6).25 Those persecuted for their refusal to participate in worship of the emperor may have been struck with the contrast of the pretensions of human power. In various regions throughout the empire regional choruses sang the emperor’s praises.26 But an audience immersed in the Old Testament would be most struck by the fact that this new act of redemption encompassed believers from all peoples. John’s fourfold formula describing all peoples (“tribe and language and people and nation”) occurs in varying sequences seven times in Revelation and matches a threefold formula that occurs six times in Daniel (Dan. 3:4 [cf. LXX here], 7; 4:1; 5:19; 6:25; 7:14). Daniel announced the rule of the Son of Man over all these peoples (7:14), and John sees a literal fulfillment of this promise in the church.27

That God has so many myriads (Rev. 5:11) to worship him reinforces the text’s example for us that he is worthy of worship. “Ten thousand” was simply the largest number for which the Greek language afforded a ready term, so the plural (in the Greek) of “ten thousand times ten thousand” is a handy way of saying that they were innumerable.28 One suspects that even the emperor would have been impressed had he found himself privy to such a revelation. The image comes directly from Daniel 7:10, a source for later Jewish speculation on the infinite greatness of a God worshiped by an unlimited supply of such heavenly beings (see 1 En. 14:22–23; 40:1; 60:1; 71:8).29 Not only all of heaven, but all of creation ultimately offers God glory (Rev. 5:13; cf. Ps. 148:1–13; 1 En. 69:24).30

Bridging Contexts

IDENTIFICATION WITH BIBLICAL CHARACTERS. As we read this text, we are invited to identify with John in experiencing the grandeur of heavenly worship. Too often we fear to identify with positive characters in the Bible, supposing that they are on a spiritual level far beyond anything we can achieve. Yet some identification is essential to Bible study. Did not the apostle Paul summon members of his churches to “imitate” him (1 Cor. 4:16; 11:1)? How else can we learn moral lessons from Bible stories (2 Tim. 3:16) if not by learning from the positive and negative examples in them (1 Cor. 10:11)?

But here believers may identify with John in his weakness: We are all utterly dependent on a Savior (Rev. 5:4–5). Identifying with biblical characters becomes easier when we remember that they had weaknesses, too. James reminds us that Elijah was a person who experienced the same struggles as we, yet at God’s command he could stop the rain (James 5:17). Discouraged that even fire from heaven left Jezebel as his mortal enemy, Elijah wanted to give up and die (1 Kings 19:4). Not content with deep sorrow, Job and Jeremiah actually wished that they had never been born (Job 3:3; Jer. 20:14–15)! Struggling with doubt, John the Baptist questioned whether Jesus really fit his proclamation about the Messiah (Matt. 11:3). Joseph seems to have kept his faith in his dreams while in prison (Gen. 40:8), but forgot at least part of their message in his prosperity (41:51). And we needn’t even start talking about Peter! God has chosen people just like us—not so we can boast how great we are, but so he can show what he can make out of clay jars filled with his glory, “to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us” (2 Cor. 4:7).

Because his role as the first receiver of this revelation is positive and prefigures our role as its recipients (1:1), John is not only the implied author but functions as a model for the ideal reader as well. Thus his weeping at the despair of the world without a heavenly advocate (5:4) implies the tone with which we are expected to approach this devastating potential situation.31 And we with John also experience relief at the appearance of Jesus. Like John, we already know that Jesus is our champion, but Revelation unfolds its message not in traditional theological propositions but in graphic images that confront us with the familiar message of the gospel in an ever-fresh way. This may suggest that we should seek God’s help to find creative ways to communicate his message in ever-fresh ways to our generation as well.

Jesus’ conquest through his self-sacrifice (5:5–6) provides a model for believers, for Revelation also portrays martyrs as sharers in Jesus’ sacrifice (see comment on 6:9). Thus, “ ‘conquering’ in both cases, that of Christ and that of Christians, means no more or less than dying.”32 We must read each passage in light of the whole book of Revelation (wherever possible, as a prism refracting its various themes), and then be ready to reapply that message to today. The way we offer ourselves in sacrifice may differ in different situations, but the call of the gospel to count the cost remains the same.

Social location. Discussions in biblical studies today often focus on social location: Readers from different backgrounds approach the text with different questions and tend to pick up on different themes. In its radical form, this approach can constitute part of a larger agenda that makes all interpretations relative. As a descriptive discipline, however, it can prove relevant in challenging the biases of our own culture and tradition each of us brings to the text, thereby helping us to hear more clearly the inspired message of Scripture.33

One valuable insight this approach has yielded is that those who are suffering or marginalized may identify most quickly with a suffering Savior (5:5–6).34 Those who are parts of minority cultures or cultures where Christians are small minorities may find special encouragement in this passage, as Gentile believers probably did at the end of the first century. God’s concern for all peoples (5:9–10) may prove especially encouraging to groups that feel marginalized in society or in the church. Of course, the groups that feel this may vary from one era to another. The cultures of the Bible were mainly Middle Eastern, North and somewhat East African, and (in the New Testament) southern European.35 Although northern Europeans were well-known in the Roman empire, it was usually as primitive savages, and they appear nowhere in the Bible except in these sorts of summary statements.36

The East African empire of Axum converted to Christianity around A.D. 333, close to the time of the Roman empire’s conversion.37 Other missionaries quickly spread eastward.38 But many of us white and Western Christians have grown accustomed to thinking of Christianity as the heritage of the Western world, while Muslims exploit prospective African and other converts with the lie that Christianity is a “white man’s religion.” Meanwhile, the birthplace region of Christianity is one of the places where it now struggles the hardest to regain a foothold. If the apostles needed to remind their early audiences that the church is not for Israel alone, we must also remember that no culture or region has a permanent claim on the gospel. Thus we must seek to contextualize the gospel message for all cultures and encourage Christians in all cultures to take the lead in effectively evangelizing their peoples.39

Contemporary Significance

THE SIGNIFICANCE OF God’s judgments. If the seals attest the veracity of believers’ future inheritance in the kingdom (as we have suggested, albeit tentatively), then God’s judgments on the world around us should invite us not to fear but to hope. Judgments testify that God, not our oppressors, remains sovereign. Suffering Christians like those in Smyrna and Philadelphia need not feel as if God will ignore their sufferings until the final day; judgments on the society that hates them constitute their vindication. Meanwhile, more prosperous Christians in places like Sardis or Laodicea may fear the judgments because their well-being flows from the well-being of their society—one reason believers are often called out of such dependence (13:17; 18:4). If we feel uncomfortable with the idea of judgment, perhaps it is because we have grown more comfortable with the world than with suffering among Jesus’ witnesses.

The angel asks who is worthy to open the book (5:2), and this time no unworthy Isaiah is purified by coals from the altar (Isa. 6:5–7). Jesus alone proves worthy. Keeping Jesus in his rightful place, as our only possible Savior, keeps the rest of us from the arrogance of assuming our own indispensability. Indeed, when we wish to identify with other characters in the Bible, we find people like ourselves with great flaws whenever they are described much. David nearly killed much of Nabal’s household in anger (1 Sam. 25:21–22); Sarah chose Hagar to help out God’s plan and then mistreated her (Gen. 16:2–6); Joshua acted without God’s wisdom toward the Gibeonites (Josh. 9:14–18); Moses protested God’s will so much that it nearly cost him his life at the beginning of his call (Ex. 4:13–14, 24–26); Gideon doubted his ability to carry out God’s call (Judg. 6:15–17). Israel’s judges were often flawed people, some who had minor dysfunctionalities that did not stop them from doing God’s will (1 Sam. 8:1–3); others never surmounted their dysfunctionalities and ended in tragedy despite God’s blessing (Judg. 11:34–40; 16:30; see also comment on 1:3). The only perfect hero we may honor unconditionally is Jesus; if we start placing others on pedestals and try to pretend to climb on one ourselves, we invite inevitable failure.

Most noteworthy is the fact that none of subsequent history, including God’s judgments, may take place until the Lamb himself opens the seals. As F. F. Bruce notes, it is the arrival of the newly slaughtered Lamb that brings to fulfillment God’s purposes: “This is the central message of Revelation: The crucial event of all time is the sacrifice of Calvary; that was the decisive victory which has ensured the final triumph of God’s cause and God’s people over all the forces opposed to them.”40 Revelation is part of our New Testament precisely because it preaches the same gospel as the rest of the New Testament preaches. All of history depends on the cross, the central event in God’s plan of salvation (1 Cor. 1:18–2:16; Col. 1:18–23).

Overcoming through dying. That Jesus overcomes through dying challenges our ways of doing things. We like to gain political or social power and dictate God’s terms from the top down.41 By contrast, Jesus shows us that the true victory comes in sacrifice and weakness, which force us to depend on God’s vindication. Jesus’ army of followers must imitate his example (see comment on 7:4–9).

One might think of the nine physically or mentally disabled competitors running the hundred-yard dash at a recent Seattle Special Olympics. When one boy stumbled and began to cry, the other eight children all stopped and returned to comfort him. A girl with Down’s syndrome gave him a kiss, and then all of them proceeded to the finish line arm in arm. The crowd offered a standing ovation for ten minutes; by relinquishing personal victory, each of the children had achieved a far greater triumph.42

Philip Yancey notes that the Christian message brought the world empathy for victims, because for the first time a victim (Jesus) was the hero; the oppressed hold “the moral high ground” in the Western conscience because of Christian teachings.43 Yancey recounts his amazement at how Henri Nouwen devoted his precious time to serving a mentally challenged man for whom most busy people would have not taken time. Henri Nouwen saw this man as a gift to him, to remind him what we humans are, what matters most, and that our character counts more before God than our accomplishments.44 In our fast-paced and hectic schedules to accomplish much (I am preaching to myself most of all), we need to be reminded that the victory lies with God and is accomplished as often through our apparent defeat as through our public triumph. Jesus’ death also shows the depth of his love for us (1:5), which provides us an assurance—and a model for our demonstrations of Christian love.

The dangers of ethnocentrism. That Jesus redeemed for himself a people from among all nations (5:9) warns us against the dangers of ethnocentrism. Multiculturalism is not just a fad or an invention of theological liberals (though like most good things, it can become a tool of evil as well as good; see 13:7–8); God desired a multicultural body of Christ from the very start (Matt. 28:19; Acts 1:8). Indeed, early Christians networked across the Mediterranean world, apparently the only religion in the early Roman empire that developed transregional organization.45 This implies that God is no respecter of persons; he cares for all peoples. That acknowledgment in turn demands that we love fellow believers across racial and cultural lines enough to hear their perspectives, especially when the issues on which we comment often impinge more directly on their lives.46

Billy Graham notes that he grew up on a small southern farm where he rarely considered the situation of African-Americans; but once he realized the implications the gospel had for race relations, he took down the ropes separating blacks and whites in a southern crusade in 1952. From then on, he refused ever to preach at a segregated crusade.47 In different parts of the United States different racial dynamics come to the fore; but if current trends continue in our nation as a whole, every ethnic group, including whites, will eventually constitute an ethnic minority, and those who cannot adjust will be culturally disadvantaged.48

I recall some of my first days as a white Christian living in a predominantly black housing project, where the children knew everything about my culture from television and elsewhere, but I did not even know how they prepared their hair. I was working on my doctorate, but I grew so ashamed of my ignorance that day, and felt cheated by an educational system that had left me ill-prepared to work among any ethnic group other than my own—the one ethnic group that did not think that it was one. Again, different barriers are relevant to people in different locations, but the basic point is that we must transcend all these barriers if the world is to receive a foretaste of heaven through watching Christ’s body united among all peoples.

Worship pleasing to God. God receives our worship and our prayers as incense, an aroma pleasing to him (5:8).49 Various activities typically surround worship in Revelation and elsewhere in Scripture, such as singing, hence the psalms (e.g., 1 Chron. 15:22, 27; 25:7; 2 Chron. 23:18; 29:30; Ezra 2:65; Neh. 12:46). It was often instrumental as well (e.g., 1 Chron. 13:8; 15:16, 28; 16:5; 25:1), as here (5:8), although I will concede that the noninstrumental churches today have produced some beautiful acappella harmonies. In the Bible, worship was often joyous celebration (expressions of joy over a hundred times in Psalms), often including shouting (over twenty times in Psalms).

If this seems too celebrative for some of our more solemn churches, many of the fastest growing movements around the world find it much more amenable to human nature than our solemnity. They have discovered that at least some forms of worship can be fun! (We should also note, however, that the psalms also do include prayers of mourning and sorrow, covering the whole gamut of human emotion.) Worship can also be contextualized; when some people tried to prevent the music minister from securing drums in a church where I was on staff, I preached from Psalm 150, including the diversity of instruments in 150:3–6. I noted that they used all the instruments available in their culture (including those used by their pagan neighbors), because God is worthy of the most splendid praise we can give him.

At the same time, joy, shouting, instruments, and celebration do not by themselves constitute worship; otherwise some college frat parties would qualify! The heart of worship is declaring to God (whether in the second person or sometimes in the third person but with God in mind, as in some psalms) how majestic he is and how great his works are, which in short means articulating the truth about him. Theology can thus be worshipful, though biblical worship is generally not simply rational but affective as well, devoting one’s whole being in attention to God. (When conjoined with dancing, often a sign of rejoicing in Israel’s culture, it can be physical as well; e.g., Ps. 149:3; 150:4.) Theologians often must speak the language of their guild, but all believers, when they have a proper understanding of God, can participate by articulating biblical themes that glorify God in the artistic, metaphoric language of poetry and song. As C. S. Lewis also recognized, given the limitations of human language, musical metaphors and apocalyptic images may communicate God’s glory to most people better than our dry treatises would.

Many biblical “worship” phrases have become virtually meaningless in our different culture (what does it mean for God to lift up our head?).50 I think of many biblical worship choruses today which, taken from their original context, are used completely differently from the way the Bible used the biblical phrases they use.51 At the same time, we should, as John did, continue to celebrate biblical, redemptive history, as well as God’s rule over the cosmos and in our lives and contemporary events. Biblically saturated hymns like those of Charles Wesley are ideally suited to such worship. But even when our lips utter the right words or our emotions celebrate a joyful rhythm, the worship for which God longs most of all is our heart and lives as living sacrifices (cf. Rev. 6:9–11; also Rom. 12:1).

A transformed life. That Jesus made us a kingdom and priests (5:10) fills out some of our popular twentieth-century notions of conversion. It indicates that God has called us to pray and worship as priests and to rule (5:10), not simply to “go to heaven” someday (crucial as that destination is). The redemption the heavenly chorus describes here is thus not merely personal piety; it is entrance into an intercessory community of faith destined to rule the world.

In the early nineteenth century many churchgoers in the United States believed that salvation was an event they could hope for at the end of their lives; the emphasis on conversion in the evangelical revival shifted the focus from salvation as a goal to salvation as the beginning of a new, transformed life that enabled one to make an impact on the world.52 Thus as Finney witnessed tens of thousands making professions of faith in Christ, he immediately enrolled their new commitment in the service of the abolitionist movement.53 Jesus did not redeem us for irrelevance, but to become his agents in this world.

The worship of all creation in 5:13 probably suggests more than that nature testifies to its Creator by what one sees there (Ps. 8:3; 19:1–6; Rom. 1:20); the image seems closer to the active celebration envisioned in Psalm 96:11–13; Isaiah 44:23; 55:12. To be sure, animals and inanimate creation are less intelligent than people made in God’s image; yet we have so debased our wisdom that sometimes animals are smarter than we are (Isa. 1:3; Rom. 1:21–23; 2 Peter 2:16).