Introduction
Overview
Revelation addresses a situation in which pagan political power has formed a partnership with false religion. Those who claim to follow Christ are facing mounting pressure to conform to this ungodly partnership at the expense of loyalty to Christ. The overall purpose of Revelation is to comfort those who are facing persecution and to warn those who are compromising with the world system.
During times of opposition, the righteous suffer and the wicked seem to prosper. This raises the question, Who is Lord? Revelation says Jesus is Lord in spite of how things appear, and he is returning soon to establish his eternal kingdom. Those facing persecution find hope through a renewed perspective, and those who are compromising are warned to repent. Revelation’s goal is to transform the audience and enable them to follow Jesus faithfully.
To carry out this purpose, Revelation makes use of strange images and symbols. This picture language creates a symbolic world that the believers enter as they hear the book read aloud. Here they get a heavenly perspective on current events. They see reality differently. While it seems now that Caesar is Lord, they see in Revelation that God is in control of history and that Jesus truly is Lord! They see that God will win in the end. As a result, they are strongly encouraged to persevere in faithfulness to Jesus.
Authorship, Date, and Occasion
The author of Revelation identifies himself as John (1:1, 4, 9; 22:8), a servant of Christ (1:1), and a prophet to the churches in Roman Asia (1:3; 22:7). John was exiled by Rome on an island called Patmos in the Aegean Sea because of his Christian witness (1:9). Beyond these details, little else is said about him. Patristic traditions claim that this John was none other than the apostle, one of the Twelve, the son of Zebedee. Those skeptical of apostolic authorship note the differences between Revelation and the Gospel of John (which is also believed to be written by the apostle). They point out, for example, variations in language and writing style. The Gospel’s Greek is refined, but Revelation’s contains a number of grammatical irregularities. There are also differences in theology. John’s Gospel has a realized or inaugurated eschatology (i.e., the “last days” began with Jesus’s ministry, and rebirth is evidence for the kingdom’s arrival; Jn 3:15–16; 4:13–14; 5:24), while Revelation has a final eschatology (i.e., Revelation focuses not on the present invasion of the kingdom but on its consummation at Jesus’s return; 19:1–22:5). Yet many of these variances can be explained. John may have had an amanuensis, or secretary, who helped him compose the Gospel but no such assistance with Revelation, and hence the changes in grammar and style. Theological divergence could be due to different emphases and not content. John’s Gospel does speak about final eschatological events (e.g., Jn 5:28–29; 14:2–4) as well as realized ones, though focusing on the latter, while Revelation records John’s immediate ecstatic encounters with the Spirit (1:10; 4:2; 17:3; 21:10), though emphasizing the final flooding of the Spirit at history’s end (22:1–5). Although alternative Johns have been suggested throughout the centuries, none of them (e.g., John Mark, John the Baptist, John the elder, a pseudonymous or anonymous John) have been so convincing as to rule out the apostle John as the author.
The date of composition for Revelation is near the end of Emperor Domitian’s reign (81–96) around the year 95, though a minority number of commentators have suggested dates as early as the 60s during Nero’s administration or as late as the second century under Trajan. Domitian has been characterized as a cruel despot by many Roman historians (e.g., Pliny the Younger), but accounts of his villainy were probably exaggerated. Roman historians at that time condemned Domitian’s reign as a propagandistic foil by which the new rule of his successor, Trajan, could appear benevolent and successful. It is also incorrect to think that Domitian launched a large-scale systematic persecution of all Christians throughout the entire empire. Based on a more balanced reconstruction of Domitian’s reign and from the internal evidence found within Rv 2–3, we can surmise that the hostilities against Christians were indeed real, at times intense (e.g., Antipas’s martyrdom at Pergamum; 2:13), but localized and part of a spectrum of other issues that challenged the believing community. What threatened the church the most was not persecution but moral compromise with the idolatrous values of Roman culture.
Historical Context
Asia Minor was a Roman province where the imperial cult was popular and politically influential. When Asia Minor came under Roman rule in 133 BC, it was natural for the inhabitants to honor the Roman emperor as part of their ongoing practice of worshiping living monarchs. Veneration was a sign of loyalty and gratitude to those who brought unified peace and political stability to the land. Although in Rome only dead emperors could be deified by the Senate, it appears that outside of Rome, Caesar could be honored as a living deity. Domitian, for example, accepted the divine title “Our lord and god” from Ephesus and other cities. He even used it himself when making imperial pronouncements.
The seven churches to which the book of Revelation is addressed (1:11) were all located in major urban centers. Faithful Christians who were committed to monotheism and worshiped Christ, not Caesar, as Lord and God faced a crisis as they were pressured to participate in the cultic life of the city. Trade guilds (cf. Ac 19:24–25) would sponsor imperial festivals to enhance the status of their city before Rome and to compete for political favors. A lack of support for the cult often meant exclusion from the guild, economic hardship, and sometimes even confiscation of property, imprisonment, or death (Rv 2:9–10, 13; 3:8).
The Location of Patmos
John was exiled to the island of Patmos because of his testimony about Jesus (Rv 1:9).
Hostility against Christians came not only from the Roman government, the local city magistrates, and trade guilds but also from the Diaspora Jews. The Jewish people were among the few in the Roman Empire who were exempt from mandatory participation in the imperial cult. Jews were obligated to make daily sacrifices to God on behalf of the emperor but were not required to worship Caesar himself. Early Christianity, considered a “sect of the Nazarenes” (Ac 24:5) of Judaism, was thus protected under this provision. However, as hostilities between the synagogue and church erupted over the identity of Jesus as the Messiah, it appears that the synagogue might have pressed the distinction between Judaism and Christianity publicly. The Christians, now seen as non-Jews, were expected to participate in the imperial cult. When the churches at Smyrna (2:9) and Philadelphia (3:9) refused, there were social and economic sanctions lodged against them by city officials based on the testimony of the Jews.
These cultic festivals often meant that an abundance of quality meat sacrificed to idols was available to all at the temples and at the markets. Idol food was a particular point of controversy for John’s communities. Apparently some false Christian prophets taught the permissibility of eating idol meat and joining the cultic feasts despite the dangers of idolatry (2:2, 6, 14–17, 20–25). In Revelation it appears that cultural accommodation, Roman luxury, exotic entertainment, wealth, and economic prosperity posed greater threats to the integrity of the Christian community than outside persecution did.
Genre and Sources
The Greek word apocalypsis, literally “an apocalypse,” is frequently translated as “a revelation.” As a literary genre, apocalyptic literature was as widespread in the Roman world as biographies, histories, novels, and poetry are today. Several Jewish apocalypses were already in circulation in the first and second centuries AD, including 1–2 Enoch, the Apocalypse of Zephaniah, 4 Ezra, 2 Baruch, the Apocalypse of Abraham, and the Apocalypse of Adam, to name a few. The OT includes one canonical example: Daniel.
Apocalyptic literature is an intensified form of prophecy. If prophetic literature sees repentance as the ideal solution to the problem of sin and apostasy, then apocalyptic literature addresses a situation so dire and a people so enslaved to evil that repentance no longer seems possible unless God breaks into history to create new possibilities for humanity. The way apocalypses show how God operates in our world is through visionary experiences. God lifts the curtain behind the events of human history and shows how he is working in the spiritual realm to carry out his redemptive plan.
It was the practice of the early church to have seers report their visions and share them as a word of prophecy during a public time of Christian worship (1 Co 14:29–33; cf. Ac 10:9–11:18). The prophetic word was subject to the discernment of the church, but if it was found authentic, the congregation was then accountable to hear and obey it (Rv 1:3; 22:7). Because the author of Revelation was exiled on the island of Patmos, his particular vision was written down in the form of a letter, circulated to the seven churches of Asia Minor, and read aloud in a liturgical setting (1:3–4).
Revelation is actually a threefold genre. It is part apocalypse (1:1), part prophecy (1:3; 22:7), and part letter (1:4–5; 22:21). These literary genres were never meant to be read as a road map to the future. Neither do they restrict the relevance of Revelation only to those Christians living near the time of Christ’s return. Rather, whenever the author of Revelation discusses the future, its purpose is to encourage a response from the reader in the immediate moment. In the same way that Jonah foretold a future judgment against the citizens of Nineveh in order to evoke an immediate repentance from them (Jnh 3:4–10), the prophet John even when describing far-off judgments expects his contemporary readers to respond now, not later. The readers of this apocalypse are asked to repent, make costly commitments, and with haste join God in what he is doing to rescue the world from sin. Revelation cannot be treated as a note stuffed in a bottle, lost in the sea of time, only to be opened and deciphered by those on shore who live within proximity of Jesus’s return. Whatever John the seer observed in his visions, it must have been understandable to the original audience who first received its message.
Reading a composition according to its literary genre is essential for the interpreter. The early Christian communities that received Revelation knew what an apocalypse was and how to interpret it for its central message. Though we are at a disadvantage since we do not share the same literary and cultural instincts of the first-century reader, there is a simple guideline, or “golden rule” that all interpreters of Revelation can practice. Readers should look to the OT and the historical setting of John’s churches for the source material of his visions. John expected his audience to recognize the biblical imagery and to use the entire OT as a literary resource for interpreting his visions. The author knew well the Scriptures of Israel and presumed anyone reading his apocalypse would refer to them frequently.
Methods of Interpretation
The method of reading the Bible in one hand and the daily newspaper in the other is the poorer representative of the futurist approach. Futurists believe that most of the visions in Revelation (esp. Rv 4–22) point to events in the future that directly precede the second coming of Christ. Some think that from its pages a road map to the future can be charted out. Other nondispensational futurists are critical of correlating biblical prophecy with the evening news but still believe that Revelation mainly describes events that will occur at Jesus’s impending return. But Christian interpreters throughout the centuries have exercised other approaches. The preterist approach (from the Latin word praeteritus, meaning “past” or “gone by”) insists that Revelation reflects the historical conditions of the first-century church alone and that it speaks to the persecuted communities of Asia Minor in John’s day. The historicist approach believes that Revelation offers an overview of the church’s entire history and Revelation’s chapters can be divided between the apostolic, patristic, medieval, Reformation, and post-Reformation periods. The idealist approach argues that the visions are symbolic of eternal realities and they cannot be tied to any specific historical event. It is probably best, however, not to limit oneself to any particular approach but to remain eclectic. The eclectic approach appreciates the contributions of each previous approach but limits itself to none of them.
Purpose and Theological Themes
John’s goal was to help his first-century readers understand the significance of their own present events in the larger scheme of God’s redemptive plan for humanity. True to the way the apocalyptic and prophetic genres operated in his day, Revelation gives a glimpse of what God has done in the past and was doing then in John’s current time and place to undo evil (Rv 1–18). The seer is also transported into the future to witness the ultimate destiny of God’s people (but not until Rv 19–22) so that he can view the present from the perspective of eternity. When sin and suffering run rampant, it is difficult to see God at work in our world. So the visions of John function to lift the veil and display the hidden dimensions of God’s immediate invasion of time and space. Revelation is therefore not a playbook for how the future will unfold, although it does announce evil’s demise and humankind’s redemption as the ultimate outcome of history. John’s visions speak to the reality of God for his day and what the ancient churches of Asia Minor could do to cooperate with the Spirit’s activity among them. Yet to relegate the significance of Revelation to the past would be a mistake.
The message of Revelation has an enduring relevance for Christians of our century as well as the first. It is a profoundly theological book that uses symbols, metaphor, and figurative language from the OT Scriptures and the cultural traditions of the Greco-Roman world to speak about God and salvation. Though much of Revelation unveils how the Roman Empire perpetuates evil through its military, its social patronage system, and the imperial cult, these very same issues of violence, economic injustice, and idolatrous religious practice are just as cogent for the modern church that engages evil today as it was for the ancient Christian movement.
When confronted with the three cycles of seven seals, trumpets, and bowls, ancient and modern readers alike cannot help but wrestle with the perennial question of theodicy (i.e., why a good and powerful God does not act immediately to stop evil) that is asked by all generations of Christians. During the seals, human sin and suffering are allowed to run their course to the point where the martyrs of the fifth seal cry out, “Lord . . . how long until you judge?” (6:10). Divine agency has been masked by silence, and the saints are asked to endure, trust, pray, witness, and worship their God even in moments of hardship and doubt (7:1–8:5). During the trumpets, the people of God are surprised to see that their very prayers for divine justice on earth and their witness to the nations contribute, in part, to the unleashing of the plagues that judge the idolatrous values of human society (8:1–5). Here divine power and human agency cooperate to dismantle the structures of evil (10:1–11:14). During the bowls, the initiative for the judgments comes directly from God himself (16:1). At last, God intervenes but with a finality that is frightening (16:2–21). From the seals to the bowls, the faithful begin to distinguish a divine purpose behind the chaos of our world. God does not cancel out sinful actions taken by people in an instant, for to do so would mean releasing a final form of judgment that would destroy all sinners. No one would survive. He instead maximizes the possibility for all people to repent by making the cross his principal means for exacting justice in our world (5:1–13; 12:11; 15:2–4).
The bowls that bring blood stand in utter contrast to the life-giving blood of the slain Lamb (1:5; 5:9; 7:14; 12:11; 15:3; 17:14; 19:17–19), whose sacrificial death promises freedom and not torment, forgiveness and not judgment, eternal life and not death to those who faithfully follow him. Revelation presents evil in all its ugliness and power, but it also demonstrates that the way of the cross can dismantle sin and liberate the sinner. As we journey with the first-century church’s titanic struggle against evil and the cost they bore to join God in his liberating work, modern believers cannot help but be challenged to live sacrificially and meet the challenges of life with an enduring faith. [Numbers in Revelation]
Structure and Literary Features
John saw visions, but we read about them. We are the beneficiaries of the author’s tireless hours of reflection and writing so that the final literary form by which we receive these visions best communicates what he saw on Patmos two millennia ago. But what did John see as his spirit was taken from Patmos and was swept up to the highest heights of heaven (1:9–10)? As John received his tour of the heavenly realm, he saw God’s courtroom illuminated by burning lampstands (1:12–20), the throne of God as a fiery chariot mounted on the wings of cherubim (4:1–11; 5:6–7; cf. Nm 7:89), a sanctuary door or gate (4:1), an altar for the burnt offering and incense (6:9; 8:3–5), libation bowls (15:7–8; 16:1–21), the ark of the covenant and tent of meeting (11:19; 15:5; 21:3), a brazen sea made clear like glass (15:2), and a large courtyard (11:2–3). His vision is a stunning rendition of heaven as the eschatological temple of the Lord. The earthly tabernacle built by Moses (Ex 25:9–40) and the first temple built by Solomon (1 Ch 28:11–19) were but crude copies of it. Although some OT prophets had partial glimpses of this heavenly temple (cf. Ezk 1:4–28; Is 6:1–7; Dn 7:9–14; Zch 4:1–9), John catches sight of the entire sanctuary and walks through it, beholding its splendor, transcendence, and glory.
What is more, this heavenly temple is not empty. It is buzzing with life and activity. All of heaven is worshiping the Triune God. Angels, fantastic creatures, resurrected elders, the saints of history, and a dumbstruck John participate in an eternal liturgy that finds an earthly equivalent in the Jewish morning worship service for the daily sacrifices at the Jerusalem temple. Although not exact, the heavenly liturgy roughly follows the same order of worship used during the Second Temple era (as outlined in the Mishnah). At dawn, the ashes from the altars were cleared and the candles on the menorah prepared (Rv 1:12–20). Then the sacrificial lamb was slaughtered and its blood poured out at the base of the altar (5:6–9; 6:9–11). A blessing, the Ten Commandments, the Shema (“Listen, Israel”; Dt 6:4–9), and other Torah texts were read from scrolls (Rv 5:2–7; 6:1–8:1). Meanwhile, another procession of priests walked from the inner court through the gate (cf. 4:1) into the holy place to make the incense offerings and pray in silence (8:1–5). The burnt offering was made, the temple trumpets were blown (cf. 8:6–11:19), the cups of libation were poured out (cf. 16:1–21), the Levites broke out in song and music, and the people prostrated themselves in homage to God (5:9–14; 14:3–4; 15:3–4). All these liturgical elements have been incorporated by the author of Revelation to describe his visionary experience. It comes as no surprise, then, that the heavenly liturgy, the eschatological temple, and its glorious furnishings form the literary backbone of John’s Apocalypse.
Interwoven within the narrative framework of the heavenly temple is the theme of cosmic warfare. When the next element of the liturgy begins, the temple imagery fades out and a cosmic battle scene fades in. The seals on the Torah scrolls that are read as a blessing (Dt 17:18; Neh 9:38) turn into the seals on the royal decrees of a reigning monarch (1 Kg 21:8; Est 8:8; cf. Rv 6:1–8:1), temple trumpets blown over the sacrifices (Lv 23:24; 25:9; Ps 150:3) turn into war trumpets that herald an attack (Jos 6:16–21; cf. Rv 8:2–11:19), bowls of libation (Ex 25:29; 1 Ch 28:17) turn into bowls of divine wrath (Jr 25:15–17; cf. Rv 15:1–16:21), the angelic hosts who worship the Lord and the Lamb (Rv 5:11–14) become the army of God (Rv 19:11–14). As each segment of the worship service unfolds, different episodes in God’s titanic war against the forces of evil are unveiled. The armies of God led by the Lamb wage war against Satan and his beasts (Rv 12:1–14:20; 17:1–19:21). At stake in this struggle between good and evil are the redemption of humanity and the vindication of God. The liturgy is always the background and binding literary structure of Revelation, but it uses the imaging technique of fading out and fading in to highlight selectively the secondary theme of cosmological combat. The oscillation between liturgy and cosmic warfare brings together the key theological emphases of Revelation: the problem of suffering and God’s providential action in the world, the identity of Christ as part of the Godhead, salvation and the perseverance of the saints, the mission of the church, eschatology, and the new creative order at Jesus’s return. What John has left us is nothing less than a literary symphony.
Outline
1. Heaven as the Throne Room and the Royal Court of God (1:1–3:22)
A. Prologue: An Apocalypse from God and a Letter from John (1:1–6)
B. The Epiphany of the Glorious Son (1:7–20)
C. The Seven Churches before the Divine Judge (2:1–3:22)
2. Heaven as the Eschatological Temple and the Theater for Cosmic Warfare (4:1–19:21)
A. The Heavenly Liturgy Begins (4:1–5:14)
B. The Seven Seals: Where Is God When His People Suffer? (6:1–8:1)
C. The Seven Trumpets: Why History Belongs to the Intercessors (8:2–11:19)
D. The Empire Unveiled as an Agent of Satan (12:1–15:4)
E. The Seven Bowls: Why God Delays Ultimate Justice until the End (15:5–16:21)
F. The End of the Empire (17:1–19:10)
G. The Return of the King (19:11–21)
3. Heaven as a New City and the Earth as a New Eden (20:1–22:21)
A. The Vindication of God and His People (20:1–15)
B. Eternity (21:1–22:5)
C. Benediction (22:6–21)