Revelation

1. HEAVEN AS THE THRONE ROOM AND THE ROYAL COURT OF GOD (1:1–3:22)

The opening vision of Revelation takes place within the theater of a heavenly court, with the Lord Almighty seated on his throne, the Son as his royal viceroy, and the Holy Spirit in the form of seven spirits (1:4–6). The courtiers are the angels of the Lord, one of whom is sent to John. Though John is exiled on the island of Patmos, he is nevertheless taken up in his spirit to this heavenly courtroom and commissioned as a scribe to write what he sees (1:9–11). Christ appears as the glorified Son of Man and divine Judge (1:12–20), the seven churches of Asia Minor are put on trial, and John records their judgment in the form of seven letters (2:1–3:22).

A. Prologue: An apocalypse from God and a letter from John (1:1–6). 1:1–3. The first three words of the Greek text in Revelation are apocalypsis Iēsou Christou, literally “a revelation of Jesus Christ” (1:1). (This could describe either a revelation about Jesus or a revelation from Jesus.) Apocalypsis, which means an “unveiling” or an “uncovering,” is best defined as “the dramatic disclosure of God’s will.” God lifts the curtain from the theater of history to unveil how he is working behind the scenes to redeem humanity and to set right all wrongs in our fallen world.

There is an explicit chain of agents through which the apocalypse is delivered. God and Jesus are the source of the revelation (1:1a), the angel is a heavenly intermediary (1:1b), and John is both seer and scribe (1:1b–2; cf. 1:4, 11). Each church would read the “words of this prophecy” aloud to the whole congregation during a public time of worship (1:3a). The revelatory chain moves from God, to Jesus, to his angel, to John, to the churches, and finally to us, the readers, and a special blessing or beatitude (cf. 22:7; Mt 5:3–11) is pronounced to all those who hear and obey (1:3b). Since the events that God signified or encoded in these visions are “what must soon take place” (1:1), and since “the time is near” for their fulfillment (1:3b), readers should be wary of any interpretation that relegates the relevance of Revelation to the distant future.

1:4–6. John moves from the revelation of Jesus and its prophetic urgency to an epistolary greeting (1:4a). From the highest height of heaven, where God’s throne resides (Is 6:1), grace and peace pour forth from the one “who is, who was, and who is to come” (1:4b), a divine title meant to be read as a single name and a theological reflection on Ex 3:14, when Yahweh revealed himself as “I am who I am.” Before the throne is the Holy Spirit in the form of seven spirits, an allusion to the sevenfold ministry in Is 11:2 (the Septuagint [Greek] version of 11:2 adds a seventh virtue, “godliness,” to the six that appear in the Hebrew text). The final person of the Godhead is Jesus, whose atoning death and victory over sin have freed humanity (1:5–6).

B. The epiphany of the glorious Son (1:7–20). 1:7–8. The two OT figures, the Son of Man who “was coming with the clouds” (Dn 7:13) like a king riding a chariot (cf. Is 19:1; Ps 104:3) and the messenger of God who is pierced and rejected by Israel (Zch 12:10), are now unveiled as being the same person. Jesus is the one whom “every eye will see,” and “all the tribes of the earth will mourn over him” (1:7; cf. Mt 24:30). The very sight of a pierced and risen Christ will convince all people of their own wickedness.

To the double “So it is to be” and “Amen” (1:7), God adds his own affirming guarantee: his title. “The Alpha and the Omega” (1:8) are the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet, meaning from beginning to end; he will providentially guide all history according to his sovereign plan (cf. Is 41:4; 48:12).

1:9–11. John tells the reader that he was on the island of Patmos (1:9b), some thirty-five miles from the mainland. Other islands in the Aegean Sea were used as places of banishment by the Roman court, so Patmos (a rocky, volcanic, barren islet) likely was used for that same purpose. John was exiled because he preached God’s word and remained true to his testimony. He was a brother and “partner” in affliction with God’s family (1:9a). (The Greek word for “partner” refers to a person with whom one shares a deep communion or fellowship.) Together they have experienced not only the depths of tribulation but also the heights of the kingdom, and the power to endure.

It is on “the Lord’s day” (i.e., Sunday) when John has an ecstatic experience that sweeps his spirit into the heavenly realm (1:10a; cf. 2 Co 12:2). With imagery that anticipates the heavenly liturgy to come (Rv 4–5), a great voice like a temple trumpet (see Lv 23:24) resounds and commissions John to write what he sees on a scroll (1:10b–11a). A messenger will then take the scroll from Patmos to the mainland and travel a circular route from Ephesus to Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, and finally Laodicea (1:11b).

In the OT, theophanies (i.e., appearances of God in his glory) typically feature human observers struck by their sinfulness in the presence of the Holy One (Is 6:5–7; Jb 42:5–6; cf. Rv 1:17). The vision of Christ pierced and crucified described in Rv 1:7 is a present glimpse for John and his readers of what will happen when Christ returns. We too will weep at the sight of Jesus because we will realize then, more deeply than we do now, that it was our sin that crucified the Lord of glory (cf. Ac 2:36–37).

1:12–13. When John turns to see who is speaking to him (1:12a), he is stunned by the blinding sight of Christ. He is the “one like the Son of Man” (cf. Dn 7:13) who stands among the seven golden lampstands of God’s heavenly temple (1:12b–13). Lampstands, or menorahs, were furnishings in the earthly tabernacle (Ex 25:31–40), Solomon’s temple (1 Ch 28:15), and Herod’s temple. However, these earthly versions were pale imitations of the seven glorious lampstands seen by John (cf. Heb 8:5).

1:14–16. Even though the divine origin of “one like a son of man” is ambiguous in Dn 7:9–14, it is clear in Revelation that this Son of Man is part of the Godhead, since he shares divine features ascribed to the Lord Almighty. In Daniel, it is God, as the “Ancient of Days” who judges the enemies of Israel, whose clothing is white as snow, whose hair is like wool, and whose throne is like a fiery chariot with wheels of flame (Dn 7:9; cf. Ezk 1:13–21). But in Revelation, the one on fire is not Daniel’s Ancient of Days but the Son of Man, whose “eyes [are] like a fiery flame,” whose hair is white as wool and snow (1:14), and who holds the stars in his hands (1:16; cf. Dn 12:3) and acts as judge (1:16). The seven stars in the Son’s right hand are a reference to the sun, moon, and the five planets that a person could see with the naked eye (Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Venus, and Mercury). Ancient astrologers thought the future was written in the stars, but here it is the Son of Man who holds the destiny of his people. The double-edged sword protruding from Christ’s mouth is the Roman longsword used for penetrating armor. Here it is a metaphor for the power of God’s word to pierce our souls (1:16; cf. 2:12, 16; 19:15, 21; Pss 52:2; 57:4; Heb 4:12).

In 1:12–16, Jesus is also described as the angelic “man dressed in linen” from Dn 10:5–9. Both Christ and the angelic messenger have divine robes, golden belts, feet as burnished bronze, eyes like torches, and shining faces (as lightning in Dn 10:6, but brighter in Rv 1:16, like the sun). Although in Daniel this man might be the archangel Gabriel (see Dn 8:16; 9:21; 12:6–7), in Revelation he is the representation of God himself.

1:17–20. Like the prophets of other call narratives in the OT (Is 6:1–10; Ezk 1:28–2:3; Dn 8:15–18; 10:4–21), John at first reacts to the divine epiphany with terror (1:17a), because no sinner can stand before a holy God and live. Also like earlier prophets, John is reassured with the words “Don’t be afraid” (1:17b; cf. Dn 10:12, 19; Is 41:13) and strengthened by the Son’s right hand (cf. Dn 10:18). In this final scene, a mystery is unveiled. The stars in the right hand of the Son have turned into angels, and the lampstands into the seven churches of Asia Minor (1:20). In Daniel, heavenly bodies can symbolize God’s people and their angelic representatives (Dn 12:1–3; cf. Php 2:15). In Revelation, the stars and lampstands represent the church of God, whose light and witness will never fade because Jesus is ever in their midst (1:13, 20). [Lamp]

C. The seven churches before the divine Judge (2:1–3:22). In Rv 2–3, Christ lays bare the true spiritual condition of the seven churches. In a dramatic reversal of the OT expectations concerning Daniel’s Son of Man, the Son does not put God’s enemies on trial (as he does in Dn 7:10–12, 26–27) but rather judges God’s people (cf. 2 Co 5:10; Heb 12:5–11). Some historicist and futurist interpreters have tried to link the seven churches with successive periods of church history (e.g., Ephesus is the apostolic age, Smyrna the second- and third-century church, Pergamum the Constantinian era, Thyatira the medieval church, etc.), but such attempts ignore how closely each letter is situated within the geographical and cultural location of its first-century hearers.

2:1–4. On the surface, the Ephesian church appears as zealous and productive as the city. In 2:2–3, Christ commends the Ephesian believers for their works, intensive labor, and perseverance. Under fire from several fronts (2:2; cf. 2:6), they have not stumbled or grown weary in their ministry. Yet Christ has one thing against them: they have abandoned “the love [they] had at first” (2:4; cf. Jr 2:2; Ezk 16:8). There is a sense of tragic irony as Christ walks intimately among the churches (2:1) yet is lost in the busyness of the Ephesian congregation.

2:5–7. Three verbs, each in the form of a command, unveil the process by which Christians recapture their first love: remember, repent, and do (2:5a). The first step toward restoration is to remember the starting point where one’s heart began to drift from God. Reconciliation involves remembering correctly how the offender has hurt the offended, since the wrongdoer must confess the offense and seek forgiveness. Second, one must repent and completely turn away from the pattern of behavior that hurt the offended. Last, the forgiven should do the kind of good works that characterized the love he or she first shared with the forgiver.

If the Ephesians do not repent, they will lose the light of their witness (2:5b). If they repent, Christ will give them the right to eat from the tree of life in the paradise of God (2:7). This final image not only points to paradise regained (Gn 2:8–15) but also directly challenges the Artemis cult at Ephesus and its tree shrine (see the article “The Seven Churches of Revelation 2–3”). The true refuge for the sinner is not the tree of Artemis but the cross.

Messages to the Seven Churches

Churches	Command to Write to an Angel of a Church	Description of Jesus	Commendation of Good Works	Accusation Related to Sin	Exhortation and Warning and/or Encouragement	Admonition to Listen	Promise to Overcomers
Ephesus	2:1	2:1	2:2–3, 6	2:4	2:5	2:7	2:7
Smyrna	2:8	2:8	2:9–10			2:11	2:11
Pergamum	2:12	2:12	2:13	2:14–15	2:16	2:17	2:17
Thyatira	2:18	2:18	2:19	2:20–23	2:24–25	2:29	2:26–28
Sardis	3:1	3:1	3:1, 4	3:1	3:2–3	3:6	3:5
Philadelphia	3:7	3:7	3:8–11			3:13	3:12
Laodicea	3:14	3:14		3:15–17	3:18–20	3:22	3:21

2:8–9. In contrast to the beauty of Smyrna, its faux resurrection (the city itself had “died” around 600 BC and been refounded about three centuries later), and its crowning summit, Christ appears as the truly beautiful and glorious one, the true resurrection (2:8), and the bestower of an imperishable crown for the faithful (2:10). As the one who orchestrates history from first to last, Christ addresses a church under pressure and reassures them that their faith is not in vain.

The tribulation of the church in Smyrna originated from vicious slander (2:9) by the local Jewish community, who had rejected the Nazarene sect as heretical (cf. Ac 25:5) and advised the city’s officials to suppress the Christian movement. In doing so, the Jews were unwittingly becoming instruments of evil, a “synagogue of Satan.” The fact that Christ addresses this group as “those who say they are Jews” and yet “are not” foreshadows the final parting of ways between Judaism and Christianity in the second century.

2:10–11. Instead of offering immediate relief, Christ actually warns them that their situation will worsen. Many early Christians experienced exclusion from the trade guilds, property loss, and poverty. Some would be thrown into prison, while others would suffer a martyr’s death (2:10a). Christians should not be surprised if their obedience leads to further persecution (cf. 2 Tm 3:12). Yet the residents of Smyrna are actually abundantly rich in their present faith toward God (cf. Lk 12:21; Jms 2:5). A “crown of life” or athlete’s laurel (Gk stephanos), a symbol of endurance and honor, awaits all those who finish the race of life with faithfulness (2:10b; cf. 2 Tm 4:7).

2:12–13. Pergamum was one of the few cities that received from Rome the “right of the sword,” enabling it to execute criminals at its discretion. Christ’s appearance as one “who has the sharp, double-edged sword” (2:12; cf. 1:16) is a direct challenge to the “right of the sword” exercised by Pergamum. No one has the authority to judge God’s people except Christ (2:16).

A Christian living in Pergamum could not avoid participating in the festivals or eating idol food without severe repercussions. Believers who refused to promote the imperial cult were ostracized from the trade guilds and even experienced confiscation of property, prison, and possibly death. The anonymous Antipas, whom Christ praises as “my faithful witness” (2:13), was the first of the Christian martyrs in this city.

2:14–17. Next John identifies someone in the church as the false prophet Balaam (2:14; cf. Nm 22:5–24:25). According to Jewish legend, Balaam advised King Balak to send Moabite women into the Israelite camp to seduce them into idolatry (Nm 25:1–5). Similarly, Christians who eat idol food, particularly during the cultic feasts, are guilty of the same spiritual adultery as Israel (cf. Jr 3:6–9; Ezk 23:35–38; Hs 2:1–14). Those who teach idol food’s permissibility are guilty of the same kind of false prophecy as Balaam (cf. Jd 11; 2 Pt 2:15–16). The Balaam sect at Pergamum was probably a local manifestation of the wider Nicolaitan movement (2:15; cf. 2:6). It is possible they justified their participation in the imperial festivals on the theological basis that an idol is nothing (cf. 1 Co 8:4) and thus cultic feasting was harmless (cf. 1 Co 10:19–22).

As Judge, Christ warns the Balaam group that he will wage war against them with the sword of God’s word (2:16b; cf. 2:12). He also calls all the house churches to repent (2:16a) for their corporate sin of neglect. To those who overcome, Christ promises manna (Ex 16:12–31) and will sustain them through their desertlike circumstances (2:17; cf. Dt 8:3). The “white stone” was a pebble cast as a vote of acquittal during a trial. This stone is also an admission pass to a special feast: the eschatological wedding banquet with Christ (Rv 19:7–9; cf. Mt 22:11–13). [The Seven Churches of Revelation 2–3]

Pergamum was a challenging city in which to be a Christian. It is described as the place “where Satan’s throne is” (Rv 2:13). One interpretation is that this refers to the altar to Zeus at Pergamum. Shown here is the western side of that altar, which has been reconstructed and restored.

© Jan Mehlich / Wikimedia Commons, CC-by-sa-3.0.

2:18–24. The Greek word rendered “fine bronze” may refer to a special metal alloy of copper and a silverlike zinc produced only in Thyatira. This metal is used to describe the luminous quality of the divine Son of Man (2:18). The Thyatiran believers face the same temptation to participate in cultic feasts that the Christians in Pergamum faced (cf. 2:14). A false prophetess whom John pejoratively calls Jezebel has deceived the church into idolatrous behavior (2:20). Jezebel in the OT is the infamous wife of King Ahab, who promotes Baal worship, murders God’s prophets, and persecutes Elijah (2 Kg 9:22; 1 Kg 18–21). The Jezebel of Thyatira is a leader (probably a patroness of a house church) who shares “the so-called secrets of Satan” (a wordplay on her claim that she teaches the deep things of God, 2:24; cf. 1 Co 2:10; 8:1, 4) and teaches the permissibility of idol food. To Jezebel and her disciples (2:23; cf. 1 Co 4:7), Christ warns that he will throw her and those who are spiritually united with her onto a sickbed (2:22; cf. Mt 9:2). He will strike them with a deadly disease leading to death unless they repent (2:22–23; cf. 1 Co 11:29–30; Ac 5:3–10).

But Christ also tells the faithful in Thyatira to repent. He warns the church, “You tolerate [Gk aphiēmi] the woman Jezebel,” when she should not be forgiven (2:20). With words reminiscent of the Johannine commission, “If you forgive [Greek aphiēmi] the sins of any, they are forgiven” (Jn 20:23), Christ calls the church to the priestly duty of discerning whether members have truly repented (2:21–22). It is the church’s duty not to forgive until sinners take sin seriously (cf. Mt 18:15–18). The one who searches the heart cannot be fooled by shallow repentance but will instead judge all according to their works (2:23).

2:25–29. Thyatira’s landscape and location made the city vulnerable to constant invasion. To a church whose city had a history of reconquest, Christ describes himself as “the Son of God” (2:18; cf. 2 Sm 7:12–16; Ps 110:1–2), the conquering Davidic king who would crush all of Israel’s enemies with an iron rod (2:27; cf. Ps 2:8–9). To those who persevere, the son of David will share the right to rule the nations with him (2:26, 28; cf. Is 14:12).

The Location of the Seven Churches of Revelation

The seven churches of Rv 2–3 are in western Asia Minor. Laodicea, the seventh, forms a tight geographic triangle with Hierapolis and Colossae in the Lycus Valley.

3:1–6. To the church in Sardis, Christ appears as the divine Judge, the Son of Man, holding the seven spirits and stars (3:1a; cf. 1:12–16). Perhaps to outsiders the church looked like the epitome of success. But when Christ lifts the veil, John is horrified to see a congregation that is on the brink of spiritual death (3:1b). Their works always fall short of genuine sacrifice (3:2). Though Sardis was known for its booming garment and textile trade, these believers wear soiled clothing (3:4), a poignant symbol of moral compromise with their surrounding culture. Christ warns them to wake up, strengthen what little faith remains, remember what they first heard, and obey (3:2–3). If they do not heed this warning, when the Son of Man returns (cf. Mt 24:42–44; 1 Th 5:1–6) they will be caught off guard (as they were when the earthquake hit in AD 17; see the article “The Seven Churches of Revelation 2–3”) and shocked to find themselves on the wrong side of eternity (3:3). But to the faithful, Christ promises to dress them gloriously in white (a symbol of purity and victory) and never to blot out their names from the book of life (a heavenly register; 3:5; see Ex 32:32–33).

3:7–13. The Philadelphian church had “little power” (3:8a). Nevertheless, a church that seems weak to the outside world is where God can display his glory (cf. 1 Co 1:26–29; 2 Co 12:8–10). As in Smyrna (Rv 2:8–11), the church at Philadelphia has been experiencing hostilities from the Jewish synagogue (3:9) but has not denied Jesus’s name (3:8b). Because of their perseverance (3:10) and works (3:8a), the holy and true one (3:7) gives three promises.

First, Christ tells the Philadelphians that the door to the church’s mission and ministry (cf. 1 Co 16:9; 2 Co 2:12; Col 4:3) will stay open (3:8). No one can shut it. Second, he promises to vindicate the church before the Jewish community (3:9; cf. Is 60:14; Rm 11:11). Last, the one who holds the keys to David’s kingdom (3:7; cf. Is 22:2) promises them a place in David’s new city, the new Jerusalem (3:12; cf. 21:2, 10; Jr 3:17). Unlike the earthly Philadelphia, whose name changed twice, the heavenly Jerusalem and its citizens have a permanent name (i.e., the name of God) and with it the assurance that they belong to Christ. Believers will be a pillar in the portico of God’s eschatological temple, which no earthquake can shake (cf. Ezk 40:49), and they will receive the power to remain steadfast (3:12; cf. 1 Co 15:48).

The water system at Laodicea, seen here, brought unpalatable lukewarm water into the city (Rv 3:15–16). It is used to illustrate the Lord’s response to the church’s lukewarm deeds.

© Jan Mehlich / Wikimedia Commons, CC-by-sa-3.0. Courtesy of the Pergamon Museum.

3:14–22. The Laodicean church was completely unaware of its true spiritual condition (3:17). While neighboring Hierapolis was famous for its hot (95 degrees Fahrenheit) medicinal water springs, and Colossae for its pure, cold water, Laodicea had a poor water supply and imported water from five miles out through an aqueduct. The water was tepid on arrival. Christ laments that Laodicea is neither hot nor cold but rather disgusting (in the spiritual sense) like its lukewarm waters (3:15–16). Though they think highly of themselves (3:17a), they are actually wretched, pitiful, morally bankrupt, blind, and naked (3:17b).

Referencing their wealth, Christ admonishes the church to buy what really matters (3:18): purity of heart (like gold refined by fire), forgiveness and holiness (like white garments; 7:14; cf. Lv 16:14–16), and moral discernment (like eyes healed by medicinal ointments). The purpose of this rebuke and accompanying discipline (perhaps in the form of the trials to come; 6:1–8:1; cf. Heb 12:5–11) is repentance (3:19). Christ loves the church and has not given up on it. Yet in a heart-wrenching image, he stands outside knocking at the church’s door (3:20; cf. Sg 5:2; Lk 12:36–37). To those who let Jesus in, Christ promises an intimate and restored fellowship (symbolized by the shared meal, 3:20).

2. HEAVEN AS THE ESCHATOLOGICAL TEMPLE AND THE THEATER FOR COSMIC WARFARE (4:1–19:21)

In Rv 1–3, John saw the throne room of God from which the divine Son of Man judges the seven churches in Asia. This theophany, specifically a throne-chariot theophany, is described with even greater detail in Rv 4–5, which continues the image of heaven as the throne room and royal court of God, but also introduces the central composite vision that forms the backbone of the entire book of Revelation. When John receives his tour of heaven from the various members of God’s court, he begins at the throne but steps out to discover that the throne room is part of a larger magnificent structure, namely, the eschatological temple of the Lord. For the most part (Rv 4–19), John’s central vision takes place in the true heavenly temple, after which the earthly tabernacle built by Moses, the first temple of Solomon, and the second temple renovated by Herod the Great were modeled (Ex 25:9–40; 2 Ch 28:11–19).

A. The heavenly liturgy begins (4:1–5:14). The collective visions of Rv 4–5 function to directly challenge Rome’s definition of power as empire and domination. In the first liturgical movement (4:1–11), power is defined as creative: it is life-giving (not life-destroying) and brings order (rather than causing chaos). In the second (5:1–15), power is defined as redemptive. The way of the Lamb is faithful suffering. It stands in stark contrast with the coercive, violent, and manipulative use of force, which characterizes the military might of Rome. True power belongs to the Lord, the Creator of the universe, and his Son, the Lamb, who takes away the sins of the world, and to those who worship them both.

4:1. The first thing John sees is the open door to the gates of the heavenly temple (cf. 11:19; 15:5), and his spirit is immediately swept up into the inner sanctuary, where the throne of God resides (7:15). The blowing of a temple trumpet usually heralds the next part of a Jewish liturgy (cf. Lv 23:24), and so the familiar “voice . . . like a trumpet” that commissioned John as a scribe in his first vision (1:10) now issues a new call to worship. A heavenly liturgy of epic proportions begins.

4:2–6a. The object of worship is the Lord God Almighty in his full glory. In the throne-chariot epiphany traditions of Ezk 1–2; Is 6; Dn 7, and later Jewish apocalypses, God appears as a divine ruler seated on his heavenly throne (4:2) whose glorious splendor is depicted with the most luminous terms possible. Semiprecious stones like jasper and carnelian are worn like a tunic by God, and a rainbow of emerald surrounds him (4:3; cf. Ex 28:13; Ezk 1:16, 26–28; 28:13). Reminiscent of the Sinai theophany, where God appears before Israel in the form of a storm cloud (Ex 19:17–18), flashes of lightning and peals of thunder roar from the throne (4:5a; cf. Ezk 1:13–14). The flaming torches from the menorah in the temple are the seven spirits, or the Holy Spirit (Rv 1:4; cf. Is 11:2–3), whose light burns constantly and whose presence sustains the churches (4:5b). A sea of glasslike crystal covers the temple floor (4:6a). The sea is a symbol of chaos and sin in the OT (Ps 74:13–17), but its calm state before the throne means that chaos has clearly been subdued by God (cf. Ezk 1:22; Gn 1:8).

In a series of concentric circles surrounding God’s throne, the different members of his heavenly council are identified. In the first outer circle are the twenty-four elders (4:4a), who are similar to the elders at the Sinai theophany (Ex 24:9–18) but also likened to the divisions of twenty-four priests, gatekeepers, and Levites of the earthly temple (1 Ch 24:3–19; 25:6–31; 26:17–19). The elders of John’s vision represent the entire people of God in their appointed priestly duties. Their thrones refer to the multiple-thrones scene of Dn 7, where the resurrected saints or “holy ones” are given the right to cojudge with the Ancient of Days (Dn 7:9–10, 18, 27; cf. 1 Co 6:3). The elders are dressed in white, a testimony to their pure faith, and are also wearing golden athlete wreaths, a symbol of their perseverance (4:4b).

4:6b–8. In the second concentric circle (moving toward the center) are the four living creatures with six wings that resemble the cherubim of Ezk 1:4–25, with the faces of a lion, an ox, a man, and an eagle (4:6b–7). The four angelic beings embody the entire created order from the four corners of the earth (7:1; 20:8): land animals, birds, human beings, and the like. The eyes of the cherubim “around and inside” signify divine omniscience and their role as agents of God’s will (4:8a). In an endless chorus, they sing a hymn resembling the one sung by the seraphim of Isaiah (4:8b; cf. Is 6:3); thus the reader is reminded that God is wholly separate from us and that only out of his mercy does the Creator meddle in the lives of sinful human beings.

4:9–11. The twenty-four elders join the litany of the four cherubim with their own acts of worship. They fall prostrate and throw down their laurels before the enthroned one (4:9–10). In the ancient world, it was a common ritual for magistrates to surrender their crowns to pay homage to the emperor. Here the elders offer their crowns not to Caesar but to the Creator. In a hymn of their own, the elders proclaim that true power belongs to “our Lord and God” (4:11).

5:1–4. As though the second movement in a symphony, the celebration in the eschatological temple of God continues, with a reading of a scroll. Typically, in a Jewish synagogue liturgy, the seals on a Torah scroll are broken so that God’s Word may be read to the whole congregation. However, this scroll in the right hand of the enthroned Creator cannot be opened or read (5:1). Even a being as powerful as the angel with the great voice must ask, “Who is worthy to open the scroll and break its seals?” (5:2). The silence that follows (5:3) and the godly lament of John (5:4; cf. Ezr 10:1, 6; Neh 1:3–6) demonstrate that no living creature can read or execute the contents of the scroll.

Revelation 4–5 provides one of the most glorious worship scenes in the Bible. The arrangement of God’s heavenly court in concentric circles (the throne at the center, followed by the circles of cherubim, twenty-four elders, countless angels, and all creation) resembles the Greek amphitheater and parodies the Roman imperial court, which focused on the emperor and his surrounding entourage. It is “our Lord and God” (Rv 4:11), not Caesar, who is the true Lord of the universe.

Since there is writing on the inside and the back (5:1), the scroll type is undoubtedly an opistograph (“writing on both sides”), which was used with legal documents. Most likely this scroll is a last will and testament (cf. Ezk 2:9–10; Dn 8:26; 12:9). When legal documents were sealed in the ancient world, though the internal contents were hidden, often a shorter summary was given on the back of a rolled-up scroll. Only the executor of the will, that is, the one who could accomplish the instructions of the author, was eligible to break open the scroll and read from it. It is possible, then, that on the inside of God’s scroll is written his full plan of redemption, and on the back is a description of God’s will as it was revealed partially over time in the history of Israel.

5:5–7. Who, then, is worthy of executing God’s divine plan? Could it be the Lion from the tribe of Judah (Gn 49:9) who is the Root of David (Is 11:1, 10; Jr 23:5; cf. Rv 22:16)? These two royal titles emphasize the authority of the Messiah to conquer and judge Israel’s enemies (5:5). Perhaps he can read the scroll. Then suddenly the scene shifts from the Lion of Judah to the slain Lamb (5:6a). Though “like a slaughtered lamb standing,” this Lamb is paradoxically described as having “seven horns” (a symbol of perfect power) and “seven eyes” (a symbol of perfect omniscience through the Spirit) (5:6b). The Lamb shares the position of axis mundi, or “the cosmic center,” with the Creator himself. In a radical redefinition of true power, the slain Lamb, not the Lion, is the one who actually takes the scroll (5:7) and one by one breaks its seals (6:1–8:1).

5:8–14. In response, the whole court falls prostrate before the Lord and the Lamb (5:8). The elders each hold a lyre (cf. Pss 33:2–3; 43:4) and a golden bowl of incense (a temple utensil, but here a symbol of the saints’ prayers), and with them they continue worshiping the Creator (4:8–11) by worshiping the Lamb. The new song is first sung by the elders (5:9–10). Then comes a chorus of countless angels with their own refrain (5:11–12), and finally the entire creative order joins with a doxology (5:13). The Lamb is exalted for his redemptive work on the cross. His death provides atonement for every tribe, language, people, and nation (5:9; cf. 1:5; 7:9).

B. The seven seals: Where is God when his people suffer? (6:1–8:1). In this next set of visions, the slain Lamb breaks the seals on the scroll one by one to unveil the contents of God’s redemptive plan. Taken as a whole, the seven seals give a partial answer to the problem of theodicy (i.e., why a good and powerful God does not act immediately to end human suffering). There are several degrees of separation from God, who once held the scroll (4:1); to the slain Lamb, who takes it and breaks the seals (5:7; 6:1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 12; 8:1); to the cherubim, who give the command (6:1, 3, 5, 7); to the four summoned riders who unleash each disaster (6:2, 4–5, 8); to the human agents who perpetuate the suffering (6:15–16). In one sense, the seals affirm that God is in control of human history and that nothing happens outside his authority. On the other hand, the degrees of separation in the agency of the seals demonstrate that God is not the direct cause of suffering.

By his providential will, God allows sin to run its course, but for a redemptive purpose. His hope is that when people experience the consequences of sin, whether because of their personal actions or because we live in a fallen world, all will turn to Christ for deliverance. God does not stop evil by suspending the human freedom that contributes to it but rather turns evil into an unwitting actor of his design. [Seals, Trumpets, and Bowls]

6:1–2. The breaking of the first four seals (6:1–8) follows a set pattern: the Lamb opens a seal, the cherubim issue the command, “Come!” (6:1), and a demonic rider on a colored horse carries out the scroll’s contents. Revelation’s portrayal of riders on white, red, black, and pale green horses is taken from Zch 1:8–15 and 6:1–8. Zechariah describes four riders on similarly colored horses or chariots who patrol the four corners of the earth and report to God that the empires of the world feel falsely secure. The four horsemen of Revelation, however, take on a much more direct role in the judgment of falsely secure nations. The riders represent evil forces that God allows to have some limited influence on human history.

The first rider, on a white horse, is a symbol of empire (6:2). The color white has so far been associated with the purity and victory of God’s people (1:14; 2:17; 3:4; 4:4), but here the rider is a satanic parody of false conquest (“he went out as a conqueror in order to conquer”) and of false endurance (signified by the crown, or athlete’s wreath [Gk stephanos]). The bow that the rider carries is a distinctly non-Roman weapon used most infamously among the Parthians, who bordered the Roman Empire’s eastern frontier. There was always a potential danger that the Parthians would invade the western part of the empire. The vision of the first rider is a stark warning against those who put their hope in Rome for national security. Empires rise and empires fall. The only enduring kingdom is the one established by the slain Lamb (5:10).

6:3–4. The second rider, on a fiery red horse, is a symbol of violence, war, and bloodshed. The great (Roman) sword that he carries and his charge to “take peace from the earth” (6:4) is a blistering critique of the pax Romana (Latin for “Roman peace”). The Roman peace was both policy and ideology. Augustus Caesar boasted that the Roman military machine had established a peaceful order to disparate lands and united the entire civilized world. But peace enforced by the sword is no true peace, and the civil unrest that ensued under Rome’s iron hand had been cataloged case after case by its own historians.

6:5–6. The third rider, on a black horse, is a symbol of economic crisis and injustice (6:5a). The measuring scale (6:5b) and the inflated prices for wheat and barley (eight and five times the expected cost, 6:6) signal a food shortage. A denarius, a day’s wages, for either a quart of wheat or three quarts of barley would hardly feed a small family, and there would be no money left to buy olive oil and (cheap) wine (which often replaced drinking water) despite their affordability. Even though through international trade the Roman economy made available all kinds of goods and services (see, e.g., the list of items in 18:11–14), access to them was disproportionate between the rich and the poor. The former had easy access to luxury items, while the latter were unable to purchase basic staple foods. Both NT writers and Roman historians record several famines that devastated local grain supplies throughout the empire (e.g., Ac 11:28), which could account for some economic woes of that day.

6:7–8. The fourth rider, on the pale green horse (6:8a), unlike his predecessors actually has a name, “Death,” and a sinister partner who comes right after him: “Hades” (the place of the dead). The last rider epitomizes the aftereffects of the first three cavaliers: wherever there is empire, violence, and economic crisis, death is sure to follow. The earthly beasts or wild animals (6:8b), which probably fed off the carrion of bodies left in the wake of previous riders, complete the picture of chaos and divine judgment (cf. Ezk 14:21; Jr 15:3).

Yet these forces of evil are not allowed to run amok. There is a constraint to the anarchy. The reach of the four riders is limited (by God) to a fourth of the world for this first cycle of judgments (6:8). So one by one, with each passing rider, God allows these false sources of security (i.e., government, warfare, a prosperous economy, and good health) to be the very means through which God judges the wicked but in the process also exposes the corrupt and fragile idols for what they are.

The Bible makes a clear distinction between persecution/tribulation (e.g., Rv 6:9–11), which believers will endure, and God’s wrath (e.g., Rv 6:15–17), which believers will never encounter.

6:9–11. The next two seals (6:9–17) represent two different human responses to suffering. When the Lamb breaks open the fifth seal, John is astonished to see the souls of slaughtered martyrs under the altar of the heavenly temple (6:9), as if their blood were mixed in, and a part of, the sacrificial offering (Lv 4:18; 8:15). These martyrs were killed because they proclaimed God’s word and bore witness to Jesus (Rv 1:9). From the cry of Abel’s blood spilled on the ground by Cain (Gn 4:10) to the cries of Christians crucified and burned alive in the gardens of Nero, God’s people have prayed, “How long . . . ?” (6:10). Why has God not acted? This scene reveals God’s answer to their prayers for justice (cf. Pss 6:3; 35:17; 80:4). First, the altar tells us that God considers their sacrifice an act of true worship (cf. Rm 12:1; Php 2:17). Moreover, their suffering has not been wasted but has a purpose; it is integral to a divine plan that will include even more joining their ranks until a certain number is reached (6:11). He has given them white robes of victory to reward their endurance and affirm their priestly roles (cf. Lv 16:32).

6:12–17. When the Lamb opens the sixth seal, the scene shifts from the perennial problems of human history to the cosmic events that signal the final consummation of God’s kingdom. A great earthquake, the sun turning dark as sackcloth, the moon becoming like blood, the stars falling from the sky, the sky splitting apart, and every mountain being thrown from its place (6:12–14) are examples of figurative language John borrows from apocalyptic traditions to describe creation under decay (Is 13:10–13; Jl 2:10, 30–31; Hab 3:6; cf. Rm 8:19–22). These “last days” began with the resurrection of Christ (Ac 2:17; Heb 1:2) and reach their conclusion at his imminent return (Mk 13:24–27). Even then, human beings can remain unrepentant. From every segment of society, from kings to lowly slaves, there are people who would rather pray to the mountains to fall down and cover them or hide in the caves than cry out to the Lord and be saved (6:15–16; cf. Jl 2:32).

7:1–8. After the sixth seal is broken, there is an interlude of worship (7:1–17). The eschatological end is delayed by four angels (7:1), who—symbolizing a restraining force on lawlessness (2 Th 2:7)—hold back the winds on which the four demonic cavaliers ride (cf. Zch 6:5). These angels also operate in conjunction with the worship and witness of the church. When the veil is lifted, we see that the church’s presence in human history has had a sanctifying effect on the world. The angel who rises with the sun commands the other four not to harm creation (i.e., the earth, the sea, and even the trees; cf. Gn 1:9–13) until every servant of God receives a signet seal (7:2–3). It was believed that the Lord, like all kings, had a signet ring by which he authenticated decrees and marked what was his (Est 8:8; Jb 9:7). God reins in the chaos for his sealed ones so that their mission can continue. The 144,000 represent all saints from both the OT and the NT and are listed here in a tribal census (7:4–8).

7:9–14. When the 144,000 appear again, they stand as a countless multitude whose diversity is evident, since individual persons can still be distinguished by nation, tribe, culture, and language, and yet all are perfectly united in their litany to the Lord (7:9–10). This picture of the church triumphant provides hope for today’s divided congregation. Here the people of God are one voice, dressed in white priestly robes (6:11), holding palm branches (a symbol of homage to a king during his coronation; cf. Mk 11:8). They shake the heavens by shouting, “Salvation belongs to our God . . . and to the Lamb!” (7:10). Joining in the liturgy are the four cherubim, the twenty-four elders, and the myriad of angels of Rv 4–5, who fall prostrate and sing their own doxology (7:11–12).

Unlike OT lists of Israel’s twelve tribes (Nm 1:5–15; 1 Ch 2:1–2), conspicuously missing from the roster in Rv 7:4–8 is Dan. The absence of Dan, who had a history and reputation for apostasy (1 Kg 12:28–30), serves as a warning that only those who persevere to the end will be saved (Rv 2:7, 10–11). Sadly, not all who start off in the Christian life finish it.

Those robed in white who are “coming out of” the great tribulation are not a persecuted group belonging to the distant future of a war-torn world (7:13–14). The grammar of this verse suggests that John and his readers are viewing this event as an ongoing situation that has already begun. The “great tribulation” that the Jewish apocalypses and Jesus himself said would happen in the last days (Dn 12:1; Mt 24:21) began with the resurrection of Christ and refers to the immediate trials faced by the church universal (Rv 2:9–11). Believers who wash and whiten their robes are those who let suffering purify their faith and refine their character.

7:15–17. The next liturgical segment evokes images from the Festival of Shelters (Lv 23:34; Zch 14:16; Jn 7:2), a weeklong holiday when Jews eat their meals in temporary booths or huts to commemorate how the tabernacle accompanied the Israelites through their wilderness wanderings during the exodus. God promises the faithful that he will permanently “shelter” them (7:15; Gk skēnoō means “pitch a tent”; see the CSB footnote; cf. Ezk 37:26–28) and never let them go hungry or thirsty again, nor let the sun’s heat fall on them (7:16; cf. Is 49:10). Christ will shepherd (Ezk 34:16, 23) and lead them to a place with living water (a symbol of eternal life; cf. Jn 4:14) where there is no more death or tears (7:17; cf. Is 25:8). All will find perfect peace in the presence of the Lamb.

8:1. When the seventh seal breaks, appropriately there is silence. The eschatological half hour denotes a limited period of time before divine judgment can commence (Dn 7:25; 9:27; Hab 2:20), but here, as part of the liturgy, the silence is also a moment of reverent awe.

C. The seven trumpets: Why history belongs to the intercessors (8:2–11:19). 8:2–5. As part of the daily sacrifices of the Jerusalem temple, the priest usually made an incense offering during a time of silence and prayer. The priests typically sprinkled sacrificial blood on the altars of the outer temple courts (cf. Lv 1:5) and later entered into the inner sanctuary to burn the incense on a separate altar before the most holy place (cf. Ex 30:1–9; Lk 1:8–12). In John’s vision of the heavenly temple, there is only one altar, which fulfills both functions.

The declaration of the Lamb as shepherd in Rv 7:17 continues the “Lord as Shepherd” motif found in familiar passages such as Ps 23 and Jn 10. Early Christian art, such as this figure from the fourth century AD, portrayed Jesus as the good shepherd.

© Baker Publishing Group and Dr. James C. Martin. Courtesy of the Istanbul Museum, Turkey.

For the fifth seal, John saw the slain martyrs at the base of the altar cry out: “How long . . . ?” (6:9–10). Here those same cries for justice and vindication rise up like incense and mix together with prayers from all the saints (8:3). These prayers go directly to the most holy place, where the throne of God resides, and God hears their every word (8:4). Not one prayer is wasted. Like the incense, each prayer is a fragrant offering to the Lord (cf. Ps 141:2). The whole world feels the power of prayer when the angel (“of his presence,” Is 63:9) takes the golden censer, or thurible, and flings it on the earth (8:5). The crashes of thunder, flashes of lightning, and the earthquake are characteristics of the Sinai theophany (Ex 19:16–17; 20:18–21) and tell the readers that as a result of prayer, God is making his presence known to all.

8:6–7. The seven seals are followed by the seven trumpets (8:6). With the blowing of the first trumpet (8:7), the heavenly liturgy moves forward with greater drama. John and his readers brace themselves for the next set of divine judgments. The account of the first four trumpets (8:6–13) employs imagery from the Exodus plagues. The ten plagues (Ex 7–12) were designed to attack the gods of the Egyptian pantheon as well as Pharaoh himself, considered to be a living deity. One by one God defeated these idols and demonstrated that Yahweh is Lord over Egypt, the one true Creator, and the Redeemer of Israel (Ex 9:14–16; 10:1–2). With the first four trumpets, the same Creator and Redeemer exposes the idolatrous values of the Roman world.

The first trumpet unleashes hail and fire mixed with blood (8:7). The disaster is reminiscent of the seventh Egyptian plague (hail and thunderstorm, Ex 9:22–26) and the first (the Nile to blood, Ex 7:17–21), which devastated the food and water supply. The Nile made Egypt the breadbasket of the Mediterranean and its economy prosperous. The Nile was turned to blood to make Egypt experience its vulnerability and need for God. The Roman Empire was founded on bloodshed, and it could only reap more blood as it burned up the lands with its wars. There are numerous other examples of how the land was devastated and the food supply cut short in the first century.

The seven angels who blow the seven trumpets (Rv 8:2, 6) are arguably the same angels who represent the churches in Rv 2–3. What does it mean that these representatives of God’s people set loose cataclysmic events? As the church prays for and works toward God’s kingdom on earth (cf. Mt 6:10; Lk 11:2), it also contributes to that part of God’s redemptive plan that allows for sin to run its course. Our prayers and witness open the possibility for divine judgment to break into our present reality, expose evil, and urge sinners toward repentance.

8:8–9. The second trumpet features a burning mountain being thrown into the sea. This disaster evokes again the first Egyptian plague (the Nile to blood) and especially the aftermath, in which all the fish die (Ex 7:21). We are also reminded of Jr 51:25, where God promises to make the “devastating mountain,” Babylon, into a “charred mountain.” Here the burning mountain (8:8) is Rome, which the Jewish people considered a second Babylon. The destruction of the ships in the sea (8:9) is a symbol of Rome’s decline as an economic power, since the sea was a means for prosperous trade and international commerce. Those remembering the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in AD 79 and the scorched lands and dead life in its wake would find this vision especially terrifying.

8:10–11. The third trumpet focuses on a huge burning star falling from heaven and into a third of the earth’s rivers and springs (8:10). The star’s name is Wormwood (a particularly bitter herb used medicinally, of which one ounce can treat up to 524 gallons of water), and it has the effect of poisoning the water supply (8:11). As with the previous two, this disaster evokes the first Egyptian plague, but in this case the aftermath, in which the smell of the Nile makes the water undrinkable (Ex 7:21). The event is also a reversal of the miracle at Marah (which means “bitter” in Hebrew), when Moses—because Israel was grumbling—threw a piece of wood into the region’s bitter waters and turned them sweet (Ex 15:23–25).

The third trumpet vision assures the church that Rome’s political power is in decline (like a star falling from its exalted place; cf. Is 14:12–15) yet also warns that with political decline often comes moral decadence. The Roman lifestyle of luxury can still pollute the church and lead to ethical compromises (cf. Rv 2–3). Also, those crushed by the Roman military machine are embittered, grumbling, and dying, and this spirit of bitterness can infect the church.

8:12. The fourth trumpet strikes a third of the sun, moon, and stars with darkness to such an extent that there is no light for a third of the day and night. This catastrophe recalls the ninth Egyptian plague, darkness (Ex 10:21–29), which crushed the pride of Pharaoh’s court magicians, who claimed that they could read the stars and from them discern Egypt’s destiny, and demonstrated that Egypt does not rule the world. John’s community would have understood the fourth trumpet as an indictment against the imperial cult and its inability to save, guide, or help its devotees to manage their destiny. Despite legends surrounding the birth and death of Augustus Caesar with celestial signs, it is God, and not the emperor, who is the author of all history. He alone has the power to judge the Roman Empire and cover it in darkness (cf. Am 8:9; Mk 13:24).

8:13. This vision is interrupted by the sight of an eagle flying overhead. The eagle symbolizes God’s imminent judgment swooping down on Israel’s enemies (Jr 48:40–42), but it was also the insignia of Rome. The eagle’s interruption places some restraint on the reach of the previous trumpet visions. Before God judges Rome completely, he will use Rome as an agent of divine justice to the world (cf. Hab 1:8). But the eagle inspires both dread (for the unrepentant) and hope (for God’s people). In the midst of judging a sinful world, God will strengthen his people through the trials to come. He will mount them up on eagle’s wings and sustain them with the winds of his Spirit (Ex 19:4; Is 40:31).

9:1–6. The fifth trumpet (9:1–12) is the first of three woes (8:13), or laments, that signal a heightened intensity in the cycle of plagues. If the first four plagues affected the natural world—the earth and trees, the sea, the rivers, and the sky—the last three plagues will attack humanity more directly. When the fifth trumpet is blown (9:1), a chain of events starts but centers on the actions of a dense swarm of demonic locusts unleashed from a bottomless pit or abyss (i.e., a prison for evil spirits; cf. Lk 8:31; 2 Pt 2:4) (9:2–3). The swarm is reminiscent of the eighth Egyptian plague (locusts, Ex 10:12–20) but also possibly the third (gnats, Ex 8:16–19) and fourth (flies, Ex 8:20–24), since locusts, gnats, and flies were all insects thought to originate in the belly of the earth and could cover the land like a blanket of darkness (Ex 10:15; Jl 2:2, 10; cf. Rv 8:12).

The demonic locusts of Revelation, unlike the locusts that devastated Egypt’s farming lands, are not allowed to damage the grass, trees, or any vegetation (9:4). But like the flies and gnats that bit the Egyptians, the locusts are given the power to torment unbelieving humanity for a limited time (symbolized by the nonliteral five months; cf. 9:10) (9:5). But they cannot kill. The emotional, psychological, and spiritual torment is so great that people seek and long for death but cannot die (9:6). Meanwhile, God’s faithful, who have his seal of protection (9:4; cf. 7:3–4; Ezk 9:3–6), are not harmed, much as Israel was spared from certain plagues against Egypt (Ex 9:4, 26; 10:23; 11:7; 12:23).

9:7–12. Certainly these are no ordinary locusts, since they are described with the combined features of animals, human beings, weapons of war, and other fantastic images from the apocalyptic imagination (9:7–10; cf. Jl 2:4–7). The angel of the abyss, whose name is Abaddon (Hebrew for “Destruction”; cf. Jb 26:6; Pr 15:11) and Apollyon (Greek for “Destroyer”), commands the army (9:11). This is a spiritual battle. The pain the demonic locusts inflict is due to the unseen and hidden consequences of sin (Dt 28:27). Evil and suffering, like the locusts, have a human face (9:7–8). When the veil is lifted on the destiny of rebellious humankind, John sees how those who embrace the fallen values of the secular world are tortured from within by the very greed, corruption, lust, bitterness, anger, loneliness, and inner turmoil that are generated from life apart from God.

John’s vision of locusts appears as an intensified version of the eighth plague in Egypt.

© Vladimir Wrangel.

9:13–19. The sixth trumpet, or second woe (9:13–21), evokes several images: the tenth and most devastating Egyptian plague (the death of the firstborn, Ex 12:29–32), the attempt by Pharaoh to rout Israel’s escape with his chariot army (Ex 14:7–14), and his unrepentant response to God’s judgments (Ex 8:15, 32). There is also a strong literary and theological connection between the fifth and sixth trumpets. The fifth trumpet’s swarm of countless demonic locusts (9:7–10) shares characteristics with the sixth trumpet’s demonic armies of 200 million riders (9:17–19). Also, the sixth trumpet vision consummates the process of inner spiritual decay described by the fifth. What began as moral corruption and material excess in the fifth trumpet culminates in the sixth, with the wages of sin leading to actual death (cf. Rm 3:23). The fire, smoke, and sulfur—whose red, dark blue, and yellow hues parallel the breastplate colors of the cavaliers (9:17)—are OT metaphors for the fatal judgment of the ungodly and their eternal separation from God (Gn 19:24; Is 34:9–10; Ezk 38:22).

Deuteronomy 28 warns that God’s people will suffer the Egyptian plagues because of their idolatry (Dt 28:27, 38–39, 42, 60). Revelation, however, applies this text to the world at large and the idolatrous values that Roman society propagates. Any life that shuts out God, even one as potentially comfortable and luxurious as what Rome had to offer, cannot satisfy, but instead makes people slaves to a much wider evil (cf. Dt 28:68).

The infinite wave of demonic hordes invading westward from the Euphrates River (9:14) would have undoubtedly stirred up the deep-seated Roman fears of a potential Parthian invasion (see the commentary on 6:1–2). John is taking the political anxieties of the Roman world and using them to produce a scene of horror. His readers would have also noted that the Euphrates was traditionally the place of Israel’s enemies. The OT prophets warned that God would use the Assyrians (Is 7:20; 8:5–8), the Babylonians (2 Kg 24:7; Jr 46:2), and the Persians (Dn 5:28; 11:1–2) from “beyond the river” or “from the north” to bring divine judgment to the world. However, when the veil is lifted, Rome’s demise is not due to a military invasion from enemies on its external eastern border but rather from the inner moral corrosion of its leading citizens.

9:20–21. First-century Jewish reflections on the exodus event posited another purpose of the plagues: to bring Pharaoh and the Egyptians to repentance. But, tragically, instead of repenting, “he [Pharaoh] hardened his heart” against God (Ex 7:13, 22; 8:15, 19, 32; 9:7). John sees this tragedy of hardened hearts repeated in the human response to the seven trumpet plagues. Nonbelievers continue to worship idols that can neither see nor hear nor truly help them in their hour of need (9:20). As God strips away every idol through the plagues until no alternative sources of security are left, we witness the ultimate expression of pride and human sinfulness: people, even in outright misery (9:6), would rather die than turn to God for deliverance (9:21).

10:1–11. There is a two-part interlude of witness between the sixth and seventh trumpets that keeps John’s audience in further suspense. In the first part (10:1–11), a powerful angel descends from heaven and stands on the earth (10:1). He is immense, with one foot on the sea and the other on land (10:2; cf. Dn 12:5–7). Unlike the other angels mentioned in Revelation so far, this angel shares divine characteristics associated only with God and the Son of Man (9:1). The angel is clothed with a cloud and has legs of fire (cf. Ex 13:20–22; Dn 7:13), his face is like the sun (Rv 1:16; cf. Dn 10:6), a rainbow hangs over his head (10:1; cf. Gn 9:13–16; Ezk 1:26–28), and his voice is thunderous like a roaring lion (cf. Am 3:7; Ex 19:16–17; 20:18–21) (10:3). The being is likely “the angel of the Lord” who acted as a representative of God himself (Ex 3:2–12; Ac 7:35, 38). Just when we would expect that this godlike titan will command the seventh trumpet to be blown and human history as we know it will end, he instead seals up the seven thunders (cf. Dn 12:4) and reverses their impending judgments (10:4).

In the same way that Ezekiel received God’s word with joy but also as an impossible mission to proclaim judgment to a hardened people (Ezk 2–3), John and his churches are called to preach a sweet and bitter gospel that offers grace yet demands repentance (Rv 10:8–11). In light of the Roman Empire’s increasing hostility against Christianity, theirs will be a mission embittered by suffering and even death.

Before the seventh trumpet heralds a new age (10:7), the church has a mission. The angel gives a “little scroll” to John, and he is asked to eat the scroll—that is, completely identify with its contents—and proclaim its message to the world (10:9–11). It tastes as sweet as honey but is bitter in the stomach (cf. Ezk 2:8–3:3; 3:14). The trumpets by themselves cannot bring people to repentance. The trumpets only provide the context for people to see sin in its ugliest form. To repent, the world needs the church to be a prophetic witness (10:11; cf. Ezk 3:16–21).

11:1–14. In the second part of the interlude (11:1–14), we hear the same message as in the first but with increased drama. The two witnesses (11:3; cf. Dt 17:6; 19:15), who are given authority to prophesy against many peoples, languages, and even kings (11:11), represent the entire prophetic tradition in the history of God’s people, from Israel (symbolized by the olive trees, 11:4; cf. Hs 14:5–6; Rm 11:24–25) to the church (symbolized by the menorahs; cf. 1:20). The prophets of both Testaments received heavy persecution and died in martyrdom (11:7–10; cf. Heb 11:32–40). God’s people, however, refuse to use the same tools of violence that their enemies employ. Proclamation and witness are the weapons of choice for the church (1:16; 2:12, 16), which uses the fire of God’s preached word to consume evildoers (11:5; cf. Jr 5:14; 1 Kg 18:36). The ministry of the church can bring judgment to the unrepentant (11:6), much like the ten plagues did against Egypt, or the drought against Ahab’s rule during the days of Elijah (1 Kg 17:1; Jms 5:17–18).

The 1,260 days (which equal 42 months, or 3.5 years) are not literal (11:3; cf. Dn 7:25; 12:7). These numbers are a symbolic reminder that the time of the empire (i.e., the time of the beast; 11:7; cf. 13:1–18) and the period of the church’s persecution are fixed. God will not let his people suffer indefinitely and without purpose. Instead, God knows his own, for he has John measure the temple, the altar, and the worshipers to demarcate the truly faithful (11:1). Only those at the altar, who genuinely sacrifice and serve the Lord, will be vindicated at the resurrection (11:11–12). The rest, who are in the outer courts, away from the inner sanctuary, are fakes (11:2). These apostates will be judged along with the rest of the sinning city (11:13). As the second woe passes (11:14), and with the third about to come, the interlude ends with the wicked having to give glory to God (Dn 4:37).

11:15–19. The seventh trumpet gives John, the readers, and all Christians a partial glimpse of history’s end and God’s eternal reign over the entire cosmos (cf. Mt 24:31; 1 Co 15:52–58). The kingdom of the Lord God Almighty and of his Son, the Messiah, is shown in its fullest and most glorious splendor (11:15, 17). God’s kingdom, which has been moving throughout the mission of Israel and the church to recapture what was lost to sin, has finally swallowed up the kingdom of the world (11:15). Like the rising of the sun after a long and painful night, the years of endurance and faithful witness by God’s people have reached their reward: the saints will be raised to eternal life, the wicked judged, and God’s glory, which once was confined to an earthly temple and ark, is finally opened for the entire universe to bask in its light (11:18–19). The darkness has ended forever. This is God’s future promise to the church and our present source of thanksgiving as we preach the gospel until our Lord’s return (11:17). [Omnipotence]

D. The empire unveiled as an agent of Satan (12:1–15:4). 12:1–6. The scene opens with a great sign: a woman pregnant with a son (12:1–2). This child will become the messianic savior of humankind (12:5; cf. Ps 2:9). This woman is not Mary the mother of Jesus (Lk 1:26–35) but a heavenly personification of all God’s people throughout the history of Israel and the church. Clothed with the sun, moon, and twelve stars, the cosmic woman represents Jacob, Rachel, and the twelve sons of Israel (12:1; cf. Gn 37:9). She is also captive Israel, whose sufferings, like the birth pangs of a pregnant mother, anticipate the apocalyptic arrival of God’s kingdom (12:2; cf. Is 13:6, 8; Jr 6:24). She is ultimately the church, who bears witness to Jesus even in the face of death (12:17). It is through the lineage, history, and faithfulness of God’s people that the Lord’s Messiah has been born.

Now enters the celestial dragon (12:3). This one is gigantic, fiery red (a symbol of bloodshed and violence; cf. 6:4), with seven heads (a symbol of mock perfection), having ten horns (a symbol of false power; cf. Dn 7:7–8), and wearing seven royal crowns (symbols of political authority, unlike the athlete’s laurel [Gk stephanos], worn by the woman; 12:1). The dragon is the anticreator, who disrupts the order of the heavens with chaos by flinging a third of the stars to the earth (12:4; cf. Gn 1:14–19).

The account of the dragon, the woman, and her son (Rv 12:1–17) resembles other combat myths in the ancient world. But unlike heroes in the myths, Christ and the church do not use weapons of violence to conquer the enemy. They overcome the dragon through the sword of God’s word (Rv 1:16; 2:12, 16), by the blood of the Lamb, and by faithful suffering (Rv 12:11, 17). They defeat the dragon by freeing its human agents from sin’s control and helping humanity to repent (Rv 9:20–21; 16:9–11).

12:7–18. As the ancient serpent in the garden of Eden (12:9; cf. Gn 3:1–6), the dragon deceives (Rv 2:9) human agents to do its dirty work (13:1–18). As Satan (2:9, 13; 3:9), the devil, he accuses the saints within the heavenly courtroom of God (12:10; cf. Jb 1:6–12). But with Christ’s triumph of the cross and resurrection (Rv 12:5), the accuser has been forced out of God’s heavenly court (12:7–8) and is no longer able to prosecute believers, since the blood of the Lamb atones for sins (12:10–11). He fails to devour the messianic child (12:4–5) and cannot stop the church (12:13–18). Defeat is inevitable, and the dragon knows it (12:12). [Michael]

Like the Israelites who were rescued from the Red Sea (12:15–16; cf. Ex 14:26–29; 15:19), like the wilderness generation who were nourished in the desert (12:14; cf. 12:6; Ex 16:12–13; Ps 105:40–41), and like the returning exiles who were carried on eagles’ wings back to Zion (12:14; cf. Ex 25:20; Is 40:31), God’s people are completely sustained and empowered by the Spirit in their battle with the dragon. Because they are not afraid to die (12:11), God can use them to do his work. John and his communities have joined the fray midstory, and this vision ends with the dragon poised defiantly on the shores of the sea, frustrated at its inability to kill the woman and the messianic son, and determined to destroy the woman’s next generation of offspring (12:17–18).

13:1–2. In Rv 12, Satan was unveiled as the force of evil in our world, the menace behind human history who wages war against God’s people. In Rv 13, the dragon calls forth two legendary creatures, Leviathan from the sea (13:1) and Behemoth from the earth (13:11), as its agents of suffering and sin. According to Jewish tradition, these beasts were created on the fifth day, and their separation between the sea and the land was symbolic of God’s establishing order to the primordial chaos (Gn 1:21; Jb 40:15–19; 41:1–2). Here, however, we have a sinister reversal, as the dragon summons both creatures from their domains to unleash chaos onto the created world. The beast from the sea clearly resembles the dragon and likewise has seven heads and ten horns, but more diadem crowns (i.e., ten on its horns compared with the seven on the dragon’s heads, emphasizing the beast’s political might; 13:1; cf. 12:3). Its resemblance to and commissioning by the dragon (13:2b) suggest that the beast serves Satan. This beast combines the qualities of the four separate monsters of Dn 7:1–8 into one: the body of a leopard, the feet of a bear, and the mouth of a lion, and ten horns (13:1–2a). In Daniel’s visions, each represents an earthly empire (possibly Babylonians, Medes, Persians, and Greeks) that occupied and persecuted Israel at various points in history. The horn of Daniel’s fourth beast, which boasts “arrogantly” (Dn 7:20), is the Seleucid Antiochus IV Epiphanes, whose program to outlaw Judaism and Hellenize the Jews ignited a war for Judean independence that lasted approximately three and a half years, or forty-two months (168–65 BC; Rv 13:5; cf. Dn 7:25).

13:3–4. This amalgamated monster symbolizes Roman imperial rule. The heads represent the imperial family, and the head that has a “fatal wound” (13:3; cf. 13:12) is an allusion to the “revival of Nero” myth (Lat Nero redivivus), an urban legend that the slain Nero (who committed suicide by stabbing a sword into his throat; see 13:14) would rise again to reconquer the Roman world. Despite the lethal wound to one of the heads, it is the entire beast that is healed (13:3; cf. 13:12, 14). Thus, after Nero’s suicide (AD 68), Rome survived four emperors (Galba, Otho, Vitellius, and Vespasian) who vied for power. What looked like anarchy and a mortal blow would be followed by a remarkable recovery when Vespasian established the Flavian dynasty. Rome had united the known world by the sword and maintained civic order despite internal conflict. The empire must have seemed unstoppable. No wonder the ancient world worshiped Rome and wondered, “Who is able to wage war against it?” (13:4).

Although the word “antichrist” is not used in Revelation (see 1 Jn 2:18, 22; 4:3; 2 Jn 1:7), many Christians have thought of the first beast as an antichrist figure. An antichrist is anyone or anything that attempts to take the place of Christ as Lord. The beast of the sea parodies the death and resurrection of Christ, with its fatal head wound and miraculous recovery (Rv 13:3). The beast of the earth appears as a lamb with two horns (Rv 13:11). They try to imitate the slain Lamb, but fail.

13:5–10. Like the mouth of the beast that utters “boasts” (13:5; cf. the little horn of Dn 7:20) and blasphemes God (13:6), emperors promoted their own glory by establishing the imperial cult in almost every major city throughout the Mediterranean. Caesars were given divine names like Apollo, Zeus, “our lord and god,” “son of god,” and “savior,” and were praised for bringing a “gospel of peace” (the pax Romana) to newly annexed lands. The empire claimed to be the world’s savior, and the world believed it. But the peace that Rome brought to disparate lands was wrought by slaughter and violence; its prosperity was at the cost of poverty and injustice for others. Roman luxury led to moral decay and decadence. [Blasphemy]

Christians who refused to participate in emperor worship were persecuted (13:15; cf. 11:7–8). But just as Antiochus’s tyrannical reign over Judea was limited to forty-two months (Dn 7:25), the days of Roman dominance over God’s people are numbered (13:5). Meanwhile, God does not bring an immediate end to suffering (13:10a; cf. Jr 15:2) but calls for endurance and faithfulness from among the elect (13:10b). [The Imperial Cult in the Book of Revelation]

The Roman emperor Nero, who died in AD 68, brutally persecuted Christians. Legends surrounding Nero’s return may be in the background of John’s description of the beast in Rv 13.

© Baker Publishing Group and Dr. James C. Martin. Courtesy of the Greek Ministry of Antiquities (Athens, Corinth, Delphi, Thessalonica).

13:11–18. The second beast speaks with the authority of the dragon and promotes the worldwide veneration of the first beast (13:11–12). The second beast symbolizes the wealthy social elite of Asia Minor, its magistrates, city officials, and trade guilds, who not only held political office but were also priests in the imperial cult. They erected imperial temples, set up “the image” of the emperor on statues and other icons (13:15; cf. Ex 32:1–35), and sponsored extravagant festivals. Since the success of the festivals guaranteed political favors from Rome, those who refused to participate in the imperial cult (like the churches of Smyrna, Pergamum, and Philadelphia; 2:8–17; 3:7–13) could not “buy or sell,” since they were ostracized by the trade guilds (13:17).

The “mark” (13:17) or slave brand, of 666 on the right hand or forehead of the beast parodies the signet seal (7:3; 9:4; 14:1) on God’s people. The mark of the beast is figurative, not a physical tattoo. It means that God knows who belongs to Satan. The number 666 is an example of gematria, which assigns a number to a person by adding the numerical equivalent of each letter in his or her name. John writes that the number or name (13:17) of the beast is a man’s and that it requires wisdom to decode it (13:18). The best candidate is Emperor Nero, whose name transliterated into the Hebrew Neron Caesar (nrwn qsr) adds up to 666. Nero infamously had Christians crucified, burned alive, and torn by wild animals (cf. Heb 11:36–38). Those with Nero’s number would be citizens loyal to Rome who carried on his legacy of corruption, persecution, and vainglory. Alternatively, the number 666 could simply designate sinful humanity. Six is one short of seven, perfection. Therefore, 666 would be complete or utter imperfection and sinfulness.

14:1–5. It seems that the dragon and his beasts are winning the war against the saints (13:7). But in Rv 14, we are asked to take a sacred pause and place our disheartening experiences within a larger, more epic story. The church has been riding the ripple effects of the cross and resurrection, and this victorious journey will reach its zenith when the followers of the slain Lamb celebrate the end of evil and the beginning of eternity. The Lamb standing on Mount Zion with the army of 144,000 (14:1) is a fulfillment of OT messianic expectations that God would install Israel’s king, his Son, on the throne in Jerusalem, and his Anointed One would bring decisive victory over Israel’s enemies (Ps 2:1–12; Is 24:23). The 144,000 (as in Rv 7:4) represent the entire people of God in both Testaments. The kingdom that is consummated from Mount Zion is eschatological and transcendent.

The new song is sung not on earth but from heaven (14:2–3) and by all God’s angelic courtiers (cf. 5:9). The song celebrates the redemptive sacrifice of the slain Lamb and his rightful coronation as part of the Godhead (cf. 5:12–14). The church is invited to learn and join this new song. Like the pure bride on the day of her wedding (21:2; cf. Is 37:22) and like ritually pure warriors on the eve of battle (14:4; cf. Lv 15:16–18; 1 Sm 21:5), God’s people are ready to worship because they have lived out their lives in holiness, moral purity, and complete fidelity to Christ (14:5).

Mount Zion (Rv 14:1), the southern mountainous area of Jerusalem, was the site of Solomon’s temple and represented the dwelling place of the Lord and his people (Pss 132:13–18; 135:21). In Revelation, Zion is a new and heavenly Jerusalem (cf. Heb 12:22–23) that descends on the earth in glorious splendor (Rv 3:12; 21:2).

14:6–13. The next set of visions consists of three angelic pronouncements. The first angel proclaims an eternal gospel that is good news to some and bad news to others (14:6). For those who respond to the gospel (14:7; cf. 5:9; 7:9), their long-awaited vindication is indeed good news. For those who refuse to repent, a terrifying judgment ensues (11:9–14).

The second angel announces proleptically that Rome has fallen (14:8a; cf. 18:1–24). Babylon was a symbol for Rome (cf. 1 Pt 5:13); both nations had been not only agents of God’s judgment (cf. Jr 25:8–11) but also objects of judgment (cf. Jr 25:12–14). God is now stopping the wine of immoral passion (14:8b; cf. 17:2) that stemmed from the Roman lifestyle of wealth and luxury. The city will be judged; its horrific end is described in greater detail in 17:1–18.

The third angel declares that those who participate in the imperial cult and embrace the idolatrous values of the world will experience “the wine of God’s wrath,” or God’s just response to evil (14:9–10; cf. Jr 25:15–29). Wine was often diluted with water to reduce its potency so people could drink and revel further. But the cup of God’s wrath is undiluted, his final judgment unmitigated (14:10). For those who drink of this cup, there will be no Sabbath rest, no true shalom, no peace (14:11; cf. Heb 3:10–19).

14:14–16. When Christ appears again as the one like the Son of Man (14:14; cf. 1:12–20; Dn 7:13–14), he comes as a victor (symbolized by the golden crown, or laurel; cf. 1 Co 9:24–27), as a divine figure (symbolized by the cloud theophany; cf. Ex 24:15–18), and as a judge for the eschatological harvest (symbolized by the sickle; cf. Jl 3:13). Jesus promised that he would return to gather the elect as a farmer reaps a grain harvest (Mt 13:36–43; Mk 13:26–27). The command to reap comes from the inner sanctuary (14:15; cf. 1 Th 4:16). The harvesting of the righteous is an image of final salvation, where seeds of the gospel sown by the church (11:3–13; 14:6) bear fruit over the entire earth (14:16; cf. Jn 4:36).

An iron sickle. A sharp sickle is a vivid image of judgment in Rv 14.

© Baker Publishing Group and Dr. James C. Martin. Courtesy of the British Museum, London, England.

14:17–20. The fate of the wicked (14:20) evokes OT judgment oracles where the armies of the Lord trample over their enemies like those who tread over grapes (Is 18:5–7; Jr 25:30; 51:33; cf. Lm 1:15). The ripeness of the grapes demonstrates that sin has run its course (Jl 3:13) and the time for repentance has passed (Am 8:2). Before chaos can consume all creation (Gn 6:5–7; 19:12–13), God breaks into history to end evil’s reign. The unrepentant are pictured as harvested grapes, cast into “the great winepress of God’s wrath” (14:19). The juices are the blood of the wicked (cf. Is 63:2–6). Ancient winepresses in Israel were made of stone and built into the ground. Grapes were pressed by foot, and their juices flowed downward through grooves into a collecting vat. This vat is overflowing to cover 1,600 stadia, or about 180 miles. The area bathed in blood would cover all of Palestine (from Tyre in the north to Egypt in the south) and immerse a person as high as their chest (“up to the horses’ bridles,” 14:20). This gruesome scene speaks more to the revulsion of sin than to the violence of God. Such horror serves as a warning to the Christian community, that to side with the beast is to abandon God and resign oneself to a fate worse than death. Those caught in the winepress are reaping the consequences of their violent rejection of the gospel.

15:1–4. The celestial opera that began with two great signs in heaven—the cosmic woman (12:1) and the red dragon (12:3)—ends here with a third great sign: seven angels with seven plagues (15:1). The seven angels represent the churches in Asia Minor (1:20), and they also symbolize the church universal, whose prayers and witness play a key role in unveiling God’s judgments on the world (8:2, 6). Those who have conquered the beast with their faithful suffering are about to sing the anthem of the Lamb (15:3a). The fire (15:2) alludes to the wheels of flame and the fiery rivers that flow from God’s chariot throne (Dn 7:9–10). Together the crystal sea and fire testify to the Spirit’s reordering of creation (cf. Gn 1:1–2, 6–8; Ps 74:13–14).

An image of God’s judgment in Rv 14:19 is the trampling of grapes in a winepress.

© Noam Armonn.

With one voice, the saints from every generation praise both the all-powerful Creator and the slain Redeemer for their great works of salvation (15:3b–4; cf. 5:9–14). The song of the Lamb is modeled after the Song of Moses (15:3a; cf. Ex 15:1–18) but not limited to it, for the Lamb’s is a composite of several OT texts (Dt 32:4; Pss 98:1–2; 111:2–9; Jr 10:7; 16:19; Am 4:13) celebrating the entire redemptive history of God. Just as the Lord delivered the Israelites from Pharaoh (likened to Leviathan in Is 30:7; 51:9–10) at the Red Sea (Ex 14:26–30), God has saved his people forever by defeating the dragon, the beast, and their minions. In the old exodus, the faithful passed through the sea, but in the new, God has completely subdued the sea (often a symbol of cosmic evil) (Rv 4:6; cf. Ezk 1:22).

E. The seven bowls: Why God delays ultimate justice until the end (15:5–16:21). The seven bowls recapitulate the events unleashed by the previous cycles of the seven seals (6:1–8:1) and the seven trumpets (8:2–11:19). Yet the bowls have closer parallels with the trumpets than with the seals. Like the seven trumpets, the bowls modify the Egyptian plagues to fit the Roman context. Like the trumpet sequence, the first bowl judgment is unleashed on earth (16:1; cf. 8:7), the second in the sea (16:3; cf. 8:8), the third in the rivers and fountains (16:4; cf. 8:10), the fourth in the sky, affecting celestial bodies (16:8; cf. 8:12), the fifth in the demonic realm (16:10; cf. 9:1), the sixth beyond the Euphrates River (16:12; cf. 9:14), and the seventh at the eschatological end of human history (16:17; cf. 11:15).

15:5–8. John’s attention is now drawn to that part of the heavenly temple called “the tabernacle of testimony” (15:5). If the earthly tabernacle represented for Israel a better way of meeting God than previously, in the burning bush, the pillar of fire, a cloud of thunder, or an unapproachable mountain (Ex 25:8–9), then the heavenly tabernacle, with its curtains open so that the ark is visible (Rv 15:5; cf. 11:19), anticipates a further step. A revolutionary new way for believers to commune with God is the resurrection (21:1–5). But before this can take place, God’s ultimate justice for the world must be executed through the last cycle of bowl judgments (15:8). Seven angels dressed in priestly, ceremonially clean, bright linen robes (15:6; cf. Ex 28:40–43) receive the libation bowls from the cherubim within the tabernacle (cf. Ex 29:40). When the angels pour out the wine offering, it becomes the wine of God’s wrath (15:7; cf. 16:19; Jr 25:15–29).

16:1–2. The seven bowls of God’s wrath are poured out at the command of a loud voice from the inner sanctuary of the temple (16:1). This is God’s voice (cf. Is 66:6) issuing commands to the seven angels from the throne room. The key to understanding the bowls is the principle of lex talionis (the law of retribution), illustrated in Jr 14:16. As the unrepentant are heading to their final destiny, they begin to reap the same sins that they have sown in others. The first libation bowl that is poured out inflicts “severely painful” sores on the earth’s inhabitants (16:2). It is reminiscent of the sixth Egyptian plague, which unleashed boils on the Egyptians and their livestock (Ex 9:8–12) but not on the Israelites. Here the sores torment only those who receive the mark of the beast. There is a wordplay in the Greek: “severely painful” can also be translated as “bad and evil” sores. These are spiritual wounds that disfigure, scar, and bring unbearable pain on the souls of all idolaters, who worship false images (9:1–12; cf. Dt 28:1–68).

16:3. The second (16:3) and third bowls (16:4–7) intensify the first Egyptian plague, which turned the Nile into blood, made it undrinkable, and killed the fish within it (Ex 7:17–21). Here the second bowl turns the entire sea into blood, and every living sea creature dies from its polluted waters. The added detail that the blood is “like that of a dead person” reminds the readers that sin not only torments; sin kills and leads to both physical and spiritual death (cf. Rv 20:14; 21:8; Rm 5:12–20; 6:23).

16:4–7. The third bowl continues the plague so that it transforms the rivers and springs of (living) water into dead cesspools of blood (16:4). The vision inspires a heavenly hymn from the angel of the waters (cf. Gn 7:17–24), reminding that despite the severity of the judgments, God is just (16:5). His ways, though mysterious at times, are true (cf. 15:3; 19:2; Dn 4:37). It is only fitting that those who spilled the blood of God’s saints receive, in turn, a judgment of blood (16:6). With the choir from the altar (composed of the martyrs in 6:9–11), the readers are asked to trust in God’s promises and sing with them (16:7).

16:8–9. The fourth bowl unleashes a plague on the sun and scorches the earth with fire (16:8–9a). This is a reversal of the ninth Egyptian plague, darkness (Ex 10:21–29). Here the bowl plague intensifies the sun rather than blots it out. Again, the law of retribution is at work: the Roman Empire, whose military conquests left burned lands and devastation in their wake, is now experiencing the fires of war and violence within its own borders (Rv 8:7). Yet despite the severity of the plague, humanity is unrepentant and hard of heart (16:9b), like Pharaoh (Ex 7:13, 22; 8:15, 19, 32; 9:7).

16:10–11. The more intense the judgment, the more humanity seems to clench a defiant fist at God. With the fifth bowl comes a plague of darkness, which is reminiscent of both the Egyptian equivalent (Ex 10:21–29) and the eighth plague, which sent a blanket of locusts to blacken the land (Ex 10:12–20). This is a spiritual darkness inflicting agony to the point where people bite their tongues desperately (16:10; cf. gnashing of teeth in Mt 8:12; 22:13; 25:30). Sin has the power to blind, dull, and blacken the soul. Since the throne of the beast, that is, the imperial cult (cf. the throne of Satan in Rv 2:13) darkened people’s hearts, God rightly brings a judgment of darkness on Rome. Ironically, the wicked blame God for their suffering, although their own idolatry is the cause (16:11).

16:12–16. The sixth bowl features unclean, foul-spirited, demonic frogs, which protrude from the mouths of the anti-Trinity: the dragon, the beast (of the sea), and the false prophet (16:12–13). Intensifying the second Egyptian plague of frogs (Ex 8:1–15), the demonic frogs of Revelation are heralds of false ideologies and lies (e.g., the pax Romana). These false powers can duplicate the miraculous (cf. Ex 7:11, 22), but their primary weapon of choice is deception (16:14). Fooled by evil, the kings of earth align themselves with the beast to their own destruction.

Armageddon (16:16) is sixty miles north of Jerusalem, on the southwest edge of the Jezreel Valley, and historically was the place where major battles between Israel and enemy nations took place (e.g., Jdg 4:4–16; 6:19–25; 2 Kg 23:28–30). It is symbolic of the final defiance of humanity against God. Even on the day when human history ends and Jesus returns like “a thief” in the night (16:15a; cf. Mt 24:43–44; 1 Th 5:2), the wicked will still gather their forces for one last stand against the Lord rather than repent (16:16; cf. Ps 2:1–2; Zch 14:1–15; Jl 3:2). In contrast, a beatitude or blessing is pronounced for those saints who are dressed in moral purity and righteous deeds (Rv 3:4–5, 18; 6:11; 7:9, 14) and are ready for the coming of the bridegroom (cf. Mt 25:1–13) (16:15b). [Megiddo]

16:17–21. The seventh bowl is an intensification of the seventh Egyptian plague, thunder and hail (Ex 9:22–26). These hailstones are gigantic and weigh a talent each (about one hundred pounds, 16:21). A tremendous earthquake (16:18b–19) splits Babylon into three parts. There is no place where anyone can hide. God’s epiphany is a recapitulation of the Sinai theophany (16:18a; cf. Ex 19:16–25). Just by showing up, God has passed judgment. No sinner can stand in his presence. God’s voice from the throne room of the temple cries out, “It is done!” (16:17). At last God exacts justice, but with a finality that is both welcoming and terrifying at the same time.

Summary. From the seals to the bowls (Rv 6–16), the faithful begin to distinguish a divine purpose behind suffering. Until the seventh bowl, God does not cancel out evil, for to do so would mean the instantaneous condemnation of all sinners. All creation would be destroyed, since it too is tainted with sin. Instead, God maximizes the possibility for all people to repent by delaying his final justice until the very end of human history. In the interim, the church is called to endure, trust, pray, witness, and worship their God.

There is much discussion about the place called Armageddon. Since the name comes from Hebrew words meaning “mountain of Megiddo,” some think that it might refer to the Jezreel Valley below Megiddo, where many ancient battles were fought. This aerial view shows the tel at Megiddo with the valley spreading out into the distance.

F. The end of the empire (17:1–19:10). The next three chapters (Rv 17–19) are an expansion of the sixth and seventh bowl judgments against “Babylon,” which stands for Rome (14:8; 16:19; 17:5; 18:2, 10, 21). The dissolution of Roman power, which was anticipated in 14:8 and 16:19, is elaborated on in 17:1–19:10, as Rome’s entire domination system of military might, economic exploitation, and religious idolatry crumbles under the justice of God.

17:1–6. In the first of two metaphors of Roman power (the other being “the great city”; 18:1–24), a notorious prostitute sits like a queen on the waters (18:7), riding a scarlet beast having seven heads and ten horns and covered with blasphemous names (17:1, 3b). On her forehead is the title “Babylon the Great” (17:5).

From a distance, the woman seated on the beast’s seven heads (which represent seven mountains or hills, 17:9) looks like a royal figure. She is dressed in purple and scarlet clothing and adorned with gold, precious stones, and pearls (17:4). She is a parody of Dea Roma, the patron goddess of the city of Rome, featured on imperial coins as sitting on Rome’s seven hills. But seen up close, the woman is actually a drunken courtesan sporting gaudy jewelry and clothes exacted from the kings of the earth with whom she has sexual relations (17:2). These suitors will later ravage her, strip her naked, murder her, consume her flesh, and burn her remains with fire (17:16). The Babylonian prostitute is a corporate personality and represents both men and women. The prostitute as a symbol of vice and moral decadence was familiar among Greco-Roman moralists and Jewish readers alike (Is 23:15–18; Nah 3:4–5). It is a familiar caricature that illustrates the exploitive nature of Rome’s relations with her vassal states.

17:7–8. The prostitute’s mystery is unveiled and interpreted by one of the angels from the bowl judgments (17:7; cf. 17:1; Dn 4:9–28; 5:24–30). The angel divides his interpretation into three parts. First, the beast (of the sea; Rv 13) represents the Roman Empire but especially its political and military power base (17:8–14). Second, the waters on which the prostitute sits are the many nations that follow Roman rule (17:15–17). Last, the notorious prostitute is herself unveiled as the city of Rome, the epitome of wealth and luxury, which has seduced the world at large (17:18).

Babylon destroyed Jerusalem in 587/586 BC and came to epitomize the enemies of Israel. In Revelation “Babylon” represents ancient Rome (cf. 1 Pt 5:13) and all future centers of power opposed to God and his kingdom.

The description that the beast “was, and is not, and is about to come” (17:8) mocks God “who is, who was, and who is to come” (1:4, 8; cf. 4:8) and is a false claim to permanence. Only God is eternal. Rome will fall from its own internal violence and moral decadence. There is also an echo of the revival of Nero myth, but only in a corporate sense (see the commentary on 13:3–4). Just as the head was slaughtered but the entire beast was healed (13:3), there was a time when the empire was (the golden age of Augustus), was almost not (the year of four emperors), and was to come (the Flavian dynasty).

The sixth king, the one currently ruling in Rv 17:10, is likely Domitian. This head and arm come from a giant statue that stood in the temple to Domitian in Ephesus, which was constructed in AD 89/90 and was dedicated to his worship.

© Baker Publishing Group and Dr. James C. Martin. Courtesy of the Ephesus Museum, Turkey.

17:9–14. There has been endless speculation on the identity of the beast’s seven heads, which are seven kings or Roman emperors (17:9); five have fallen, one is currently reigning, and the other has not yet come (17:10). With reasonable certainty, the living emperor is Domitian (see “Authorship, Date, and Occasion” in the introduction to Revelation), but beyond this identification, caution is urged. Rather than searching through the annals of past emperors in an attempt to discover which of them are the preceding five (there are eleven from Augustus to Domitian), it is best to see the five kings as representative of all previous Roman rulers. The seventh king following Domitian (whose reign is cut short) and the succeeding eighth king (17:11) could be another allusion to the revival of Nero, but it is more likely a reminder that there will always be those in power who oppose the kingdom of God. Emperors rise, fall, and rise again, but it is God’s will that prevails in the end (17:14).

The ten horns on the heads of the beast (cf. Dn 7:23–24) are allies of Rome who give their support and power to the empire (17:12–13) within the same network of exploitive relationships as the prostitute and the kings of the earth. They foolishly join the war against the Lamb (17:14). Unlike them, Christians are called to resist the temptations of empire, its wealth and luxury (17:2). We are called to stand faithful to the Lamb despite the violence of the beast (17:6). We are reminded that any system based on the abuse of power, the exploitation of human beings, and the false ideologies of prosperity and peace should be directly opposed by the church and will inevitably self-destruct by God’s providential hand (17:14).

17:15–18. The empire’s success was dependent on the patron-client relationships between Rome and the major urban centers of the empire (17:15, 18). Cities received emergency funds from Rome to rebuild in times of crisis (e.g., Philadelphia; 3:7–13), lobbied for wardenship of the imperial cult to sponsor festivals (e.g., the Pergamum games; 2:12–17), and bid to establish lucrative trading routes (e.g., the seaport of Ephesus; 2:1–7). In return for political favors from Rome, these cities and others around the world paid annual taxes and worshiped the emperor. Rome plays the harlot: she is given tribute from her client kings only because she services them (17:2). But as soon as the whore has nothing more to offer, the multitudes will unite to dismember her and consume any remaining resources for themselves (17:16). The entire set of relations between Rome and her clients is idolatrous. The empire seduces people with its power and wealth, and the people give their loyalty and worship to Caesar (cf. Is 23:15–18; Ezk 16:1–36; Hs 4:11–12).

18:1–8. Chapter 18 continues narrating the destruction of the Roman Empire due to its own political corruption, economic injustice, moral decadence, and idolatrous values. In the second of two complex metaphors on Roman power, the once-great city of Babylon is in complete ruin. The readers are not told exactly how the city falls, only that it does (18:2; cf. 14:8; Is 21:9), and what follows is a detailed description of the grisly aftermath of Rome’s collapse.

The scene opens with the words of an unidentified angel (18:1; cf. Ezk 43:1–3), who describes Rome as a completely desolate and empty place, uninhabitable to human beings (18:22–23), a lair for demons, and a haunt for unclean animals (i.e., scavengers who eat carrion, like ravens, vultures, and jackals; cf. Lv 11:1–47; Zph 2:13–15; Lk 11:24–26) (18:2). Rome has been judged (18:8). Her past sins have not gone unnoticed by God (18:5). Since widows in ancient times were considered weak, helpless, and completely dependent on God (Dt 10:18; Ps 146:9), the city’s boast (18:7; cf. Is 47:7–8) is a shameless claim to self-sufficiency. To say one does not need God is the ultimate form of idolatry (cf. Is 14:4, 12–15; Dn 4:29–32).

The angel’s speech against Rome in Rv 18:1–8 resembles the taunt songs of Is 23–24; Jr 50–51; and Ezk 26–28 against the historic cities of Babylon and Tyre.

In luring the nations away from God and to herself as the source of material security, Rome has played the spiritual harlot (18:3, 7; cf.18:9; Is 23:13–18; Nah 3:1–7). Because she has intoxicated the kings of the earth with the wine of her immoral passion and merchants with the power of luxury (18:3), God has mixed a doubly potent cup filled with the wine of his wrath, poured it out against the city, stripped her of all wealth, sent a cycle of plagues, and judged her with fire (18:6–8; cf. 16:1–21). The double payment for her sins is neither vindictive nor unjust but rather a statement that the painful consequences of sin always outweigh its fleeting pleasures. (For 18:4, see the commentary on 18:20–24.)

18:9–19. Here we hear the terrified lament of kings, merchants, and sailors for Rome (18:10, 15). They are stunned by the sudden collapse of the economic system that made them rich (18:15; cf. 18:4). Rome was the center of international trade across the Mediterranean and a ravenous consumer of exotic goods from around the world. Of the twenty-eight types of merchandise listed in 18:12–13 (cf. Ezk 27:12–24), most are luxury items that were imported from Spain, Greece, Asia Minor, Arabia, Egypt, Africa, Parthia, and even China. These included precious metals, jewels and rare materials for elaborate furnishings, expensive textiles, spices and perfumes, high-quality foods or breeders’ livestock, and chariots. Trade on even one luxury item could mean large profits for both the merchants who sold it and the sailors who delivered it. The remaining nonluxury items in the list—wine, olive oil, and wheat—were traded in bulk. The scope of John’s cargo list for Rome speaks to the greed, consumption, excess, and waste of the city.

Worst yet is the final item of cargo: slaves. This industry received its stock in the most dehumanizing way: from prisoners of war, criminals, children sold by poor families, the indebted, piracy, and kidnapping. Beneath the veneer of dainty luxuries and glittering trinkets (18:14) lies the stark reality that the empire’s economy was fueled by exploitive slave labor. John reminds his readers that slaves are not just bodies but living human souls (18:13).

18:20–24. How, then, are the people of God to respond? The voice from heaven (presumably God from his throne room; 16:1) says simply: “Come out of her, my people” (18:4; cf. Jr 51:45). This is not a command to withdraw from urban life (cf. 1 Co 5:10) or from our suffering witness in places like Rome, but a call to holiness, a commitment to “not share in her sins” (Rv 18:4; cf. 2 Co 6:14–18), and a mission to dismantle the structures of evil, which enslave others, even at the cost of our own blood (18:24). In contrast to those who mourn, we are invited to rejoice that Babylon is falling (18:20). The stumbling block of the world has been thrown into the sea like a millstone (18:21; cf. Jr 51:63–64; Mk 9:42) to make room for God’s just kingdom.

19:1–4. The stunned silence from Rome’s musicians at the sight of the burning city (18:22) is broken with the roar of “Hallelujah!” from heaven above (19:1). “Hallelujah” means “Praise the Lord” in Hebrew and is used four times throughout two separate hymns in 19:1–8. The first hymn is from a vast angelic assembly (19:1–4; cf. 5:11–12) and attributes salvation, glory, and power to God alone (19:1). It lauds God’s judgment over the notorious prostitute, insists his ways are always just and true (19:2), and affirms his sovereign power by evoking a response of “Amen! Hallelujah” from the twenty-four elders and the four cherubim who encircle his throne (19:4).

19:5–10. The second hymn begins with a call to worship for the entire church on earth. Though the empire seemed invincible, and though our world is still fraught with suffering and injustice, the angelic chorus nevertheless challenges all servants of Christ, small and great, to “praise our God” (19:5). No matter how much Rome or any other power wants to stop the church’s witness, a church that sings out resistance to evil and absolute faith in Christ cannot be silenced (cf. Ac 16:25). Our joy is unstoppable because we anticipate a day when Jesus returns as the bridegroom and welcomes us as his bride (19:7–9; cf. 21:2, 9; Is 61:10; Mt 25:1–12; 2 Co 11:2).

G. The return of the king (19:11–21). From this point onwar (19:11–22:5), John narrates eschatological events surrounding the parousia of Jesus Christ. The Greek term parousia can be translated “return” but literally means “coming” or “advent” (see Mt 24:36–42; 1 Co 15:21–28; 1 Th 4:14–17). In 19:11–16, John focuses on a particular aspect of the parousia—the final defeat of God’s enemies.

Hymns in the book of Revelation (there are nine: Rv 4:8–11; 5:9–14; 7:9–12; 11:5–8; 11:17–18; 15:3–4; 16:4–6; 19:1–4; 19:5–8) do more than just ratify the events in the narrative. They are acts of resistance, in worship to a transcendent God, against immanent evil. The hymns sung by the early church were weapons of worship against their Roman oppressors. Hymns enable worshipers to express—with the full range of human emotions, volume of voice, mental acuity, and spiritual freedom—theological truths that speak to the reality of God in a sinful world.

19:11–16. When the skies split apart and heaven opens up (cf. 4:1), a glorious rider appears on a white horse (19:11a). This rider, with eyes “like a fiery flame” (19:12; cf. 1:14), who is “Faithful and True” (19:11b; cf. 3:14), who judges with justice (19:11b; cf. 1:7; Dn 7:13), who is called the “Word of God” (19:13; cf. Jn 1:1–14), from whose mouth extends the sword (of God’s word) and who wears his name like a sword on his thigh (19:15–16; cf. 1:16; Ex 32:27; Ps 45:3) is none other than Jesus, the Davidic Messiah who has come to rule the nations (cf. Ps 2:9) and execute God’s wrath (cf. 14:19–20). John catalogs titles upon titles so that the readers know beyond doubt that the white rider of Rv 19 (who is nothing like the pale demonic parody of 6:2) is Christ, our King and Lord (19:16; cf. 17:14).

Jesus returns with all the majesty and splendor of a triumphant Roman emperor (Lat triumphator ). After a major victory, kings would often enter the capital in a triumphal procession wearing a decorated white tunic and toga with gold-threaded designs, a golden crown (19:12), and riding on a chariot drawn by white horses (19:11). The king was accompanied by his armies, magistrates, senators, prisoners of war, and spoils (19:14). He was greeted with shouts of praise and divine accolades (19:16) from the citizens. This triumphator tradition has been adapted by John to describe Christ’s complete victory over the beast and his allies (19:19), but with some important (theological) differences. (See the article “Triumphal Procession” in 2 Corinthians.)

The clothes of Christ are not the ceremonial royal tunic and toga but the ritually clean, priestly linens (cf. 19:8; and the Son of Man in glorious linens in 1:12–16; Dn 10:5–9). Priests would sprinkle the blood of the sacrifice on their own clothes for ritual purity (Ex 29:21; Lv 8:30), but the blood on Christ’s priestly robes is his own (19:13; cf. 5:12; Heb 9:20–28). The only weapons of war Christ uses (cf. Is 63:2–4) are his own atoning blood and the sword of God’s word (19:13, 15; cf. Is 49:2). He expects his church to use the same weapons as he.

19:17–21. The next scene borrows its savage imagery from the judgment oracles of Ezekiel, who spoke against Gog, Magog, and other enemy nations who mocked Israel during the exile. In Ezk 39:17–20, God invites the birds and wild animals to eat the flesh and drink the blood of Gog’s armies. In Rv 19, we are shown an equally gory feast, when God invites the birds overhead (probably vultures, hawks, or eagles; Rv 8:13) to consume the flesh of all wicked people (19:17–18; cf. 20:8). The gory feast is a bloodcurdling inversion of the wedding banquet of the Lamb (18:7–8; 21:1–2). Those who have refused the invitation to join the eschatological wedding celebration (9:20–21; 16:9, 11; cf. Mt 22:2–8) are seen here experiencing the consequences of their refusal. The grisly menu of flesh from kings to slaves, from great to small, demonstrates that final judgment is a state of torment from which no unrepentant person can escape. The scene ends with the beast and the false prophet being thrown into a “lake of fire that burns with sulfur” (19:20). The fiery lake (cf. the “river of fire” in Dn 7:9–11), or hell, is the final destination for the unrepentant. It is a place of eternal suffering and punishment for the godless (Rv 20:14).

3. HEAVEN AS A NEW CITY AND THE EARTH AS A NEW EDEN (20:1–22:21)

In Rv 20–22, John journeys outside the temple and discovers a glorious city, the new Jerusalem, within a new heaven and new earth (21:1–2). There is no sea, no sun, and no temple in this new created realm (21:22–27), because the presence of God and the Lamb dwell with the community of faith permanently and gloriously. The vision concludes with the assurance of Christ’s return and a benediction of grace (22:6–21).

A. The vindication of God and his people (20:1–15). 20:1–10. In Rv 20, the narrative spotlight on the defeat of Satan is a reminder that it is not Rome that is the chief enemy but rather the powers of sin and death (cf. 1 Co 15:25, 55–57). An angel of the Lord has bound the dragon and sealed it in the abyss (20:1–3) for a thousand years, during which Christ and his risen saints reign together over the earth (20:4–5). Then, Satan is unexpectedly loosed again and, attempting one last coup d’état against God, is defeated. He is then thrown into the fiery lake forever (20:7–10; cf. 19:20). [Millennialism]

The millennial debates often hinge on the various interpretations of Rv 20:1–6.

20:11–15. There are many approaches to understanding the millennium (see the article “Millennialism”), but all advocate the reality of final judgment and the resurrection of the dead (20:11–12; cf. Is 26:19–21; Dn 12:2; Jn 5:28–29). The “great white throne” in 20:11 borrows its imagery from the throne occupied by the Ancient of Days in Dn 7:9. At the resurrection of the dead, both believers and nonbelievers will be called to account (Mt 16:27; 1 Co 3:12; 2 Co 5:10) as their works are read from the ledgers of the king (20:12; cf. Est 6:1). Final judgment is a corporate event. Our earthly life will be eternally present before God and the whole community of faith. All our sin will be exposed, yet forgiveness is also given. Christ has already made atonement (Rv 5:9; 14:4) for those whose names are in the “book of life” (20:12, 15; cf. Ex 32:32; Ps 69:28; Dn 12:1). Tragically, the unrepentant must face eternal torment or the “second death” (20:14). Hades, the temporary abode for the dead, is no longer needed after judgment is passed, and so it and death are thrown in the lake of fire forever (20:15).

B. Eternity (21:1–22:5). In Is 65:17–19, God uses the language of a new heaven and a new earth to assure the Jewish exiles in the Babylonian captivity that he will bring them home to the land of their ancestral birth. He promises to restore the city of Jerusalem, rebuild the ruined temple, and reestablish Israel as a sovereign nation. Creation language and Israel’s restoration as the people of God are combined in Isaiah’s prophecy to give a message of hope to the exiles. Likewise, the text of Revelation speaks of the eternal realm after the general resurrection as both a new genesis and a new Jerusalem (21:1–2).

21:1. Creation is renewed not by destroying the old and starting over but by transforming the old into something different, better, and transcendent (cf. Is 65:17). Creation changes without losing its former identity and becomes “a new heaven and a new earth” (21:1a). God has not abandoned this world, and neither should we. Because God plans on transforming the old created order, the church should be faithful stewards of the planet and not exploit its resources.

In earlier visions, John saw “a sea of glass” as a part of God’s heavenly court (4:6; 15:2). Since the sea was a symbol of chaos and sin in the OT (Ps 74:13–17), its calm state before God’s throne meant that he restrained sin (cf. Gn 1:8; Ezk 1:22). In the new heaven and new earth, the sea is not subdued; rather, it is no longer there (21:1b). The very existence of sin has been completely extinguished by God. Without the chaos of the sea, the new heaven and new earth become the perfect environment to receive the resurrected saints (21:7).

The Bible consistently speaks of a “new heaven and a new earth” as the final home of the righteous (see Is 65:17; 66:22; Heb 12:26–27; 2 Pt 3:10–13; Rv 21:1, 4–5). In the same way that sinners become a “new creation” because the old “has passed away” (2 Co 5:17), the first heaven and first earth in John’s vision have “passed away” (Rv 21:1)—they have discontinued in their current condition because God is restructuring the old created order into a new state of glory (cf. Rm 8:19–22; Gl 6:15; Col 1:15–18).

21:2–8. The new Jerusalem descending from heaven is the community of faith (21:2; see the commentary on 21:9–11). The promises that God gave to Israel in Is 25:8 to wipe away their tears, protect them from suffering, and keep them safe from death find a deeper fulfillment in an eternal home where there is no death at all, pain is gone, the old rule of sin is broken, and God himself will comfort his people with his tabernacling presence (21:3–4; cf. Lv 26:11; Ezk 37:27; 43:7). Joy will abound for the bride of Christ (cf. Is 49:18; 52:1; 61:10; Eph 5:22–27). The Alpha and the Omega, the one who governs history from beginning to end, assures the reader, “It is done!” and promises the faithful that a sinless new world shall be their inheritance (21:6–7).

21:9–11. Glimpses of the new Jerusalem have been shown to John throughout his heavenly tour (3:12; 21:2), but no detailed exposition of the city’s import and meaning has been given until now. The epiphany of God’s city has three major movements: (1) the initial descent of the city and its summary description (21:9–14), (2) the measurements and materials of the city (21:15–21), and (3) the internal content and landscape of the city (21:22–22:5).

“Death and Hades gave up the dead” (Rv 20:13). Hades was the place of the dead and took its name from the Greek god of the underworld, depicted in this second-century-AD statue.

© Baker Publishing Group and Dr. James C. Martin. Courtesy of the Hierapolis Museum, Turkey.

John the seer is taken up in his spirit to an unidentified mountain (21:10). If the old Jerusalem rests on Mount Zion, the new Jerusalem arrives at a locale of a grander height to signify its superiority to the older city (Is 2:2–3; 4:1–5; Mc 4:1–2; Ezk 40:2). As John witnesses the descent of a new and more glorious Jerusalem on the earth, he is reminded by the angelic intermediary that the city is the bride of the Lamb (21:9). Despite the complexity of the building metaphors used to describe the new Jerusalem, it is not a place but a people (cf. Is 65:17–19). John’s panoramic overview of the whole city has one central theme: the deep and permanent communion of God with the church.

21:12–17. The dimensions of the city are an allusion to Ezekiel’s vision of a restored temple in which God’s glory is manifested as rivers of living water flowing from the sanctuary’s foundation and each of its twelve gates is named after one of the twelve tribes of Israel (21:12–14; cf. Ezk 40:1–4; 43:1–5; 47:1–12; 48:30–35). Just as Ezekiel’s dimensions make the temple a perfect cube, so do the bowl angel’s measurements of the new Jerusalem make it a cube (21:15–17). Yet everything about the new Jerusalem surpasses the eschatological temple, which Ezekiel surveys. The new Jerusalem is twelve thousand stadia in length, height, and width (about fourteen hundred miles), while the dimensions of the Ezekiel temple only amount to approximately one and a half miles. Since twelve is the number of God’s apostles and his tribes, and one thousand is a multiple of ten (i.e., the number of power and vastness), the dimensions of the new Jerusalem are a spatial metaphor for a numberless multitude, the entire people of God from both Testaments, believers from every nation, tribe, and language (7:9) gathered around in perfect communion with each other and with God, whose glory the city reflects.

21:18–21. The material description of the city focuses on its jewels (e.g., jasper, sapphire, chalcedony, emerald, sardonyx, carnelian, chrysolite, beryl, topaz, chrysoprase, jacinth, amethyst, pearls, and other precious materials). The stones have a twofold function. First, they highlight the glorified and transcendent nature (cf. Is 54:11) of the church at the resurrection. Second, they indicate the priestly role of the community since Jerusalem is dressed like a high priest. The listed jewels on the breastplate of the high priest (Ex 28:17–20) resemble those embedded on the city walls, foundations, and gates. Each stone in the Exodus text represents a tribe of Israel. The stones in the new Jerusalem, therefore, could be another way of signifying the diverse membership of God’s people in the same way that the different names around the city signify it (cf. Is 54:11–12).

21:22–27. John catalogs the content and occupants of the city. But the question, What is in the city? is not as important as, What is not in the city? or rather, What is no longer needed? There is no temple (21:22). There is no sun or moon (21:23). The Lord God Almighty and the Lamb have become the temple of the new Jerusalem, and their glory, abiding presence, and splendor so fill every corner, street, room, gate, wall, and quarter that there is no part of the universe a person can travel without basking in the light of God (21:24). The reach of the Lamb’s lamp knows no bounds. This is a universal theophany of epic proportions (Is 6:1–10; Ezk 1:28–2:3; Dn 8:15–18; 10:4–21).

22:1–5. John’s attention turns to the surroundings and landscape of the city. He beholds a glorious paradise of overflowing streams and fruit-bearing trees where there is no longer any curse (22:1–3). Like the garden of Eden (Gn 2:5–6) prior to the fall of Adam, this new Eden is unblemished by sin or the curse of suffering, toil, and death (Gn 3:4–19). Yet the new Eden is much more than a return to a prefall state; it exceeds the old garden in glory and splendor.

The rivers of life are not only an echo of the Pishon, Havilah, Tigris, and Euphrates Rivers of old Eden (Gn 2:10–14); they are also an allusion to Ezekiel’s temple vision of the waters that flowed from the foundation of the inner sanctuary (Ezk 47:1–5). At first the water level rises to Ezekiel’s knees, then his waist, and finally so high that he can swim in it. These living waters are a metaphor for the work and ministry of the Holy Spirit. Ezekiel envisions a time when the Spirit will flood human reality to such an extent as to take full control of God’s people. That moment described by Ezekiel is now an eternal reality for those who reside in the city of God. [From Genesis to Revelation]

C. Benediction (22:6–21). Appropriately, the book of Revelation ends with worship. John is commissioned one last time to record a final benediction given by Jesus Christ himself, as the heavenly liturgy that began in 4:1 draws to a close. The structure of the liturgical elements in the vision focuses on the aspect of promise. Is it enough that God gives us his word? Will we trust in the promises of God even when we might not see God at work in our midst? On center stage is Jesus, who gives us the ultimate promise: “Look, I am coming soon!” (22:7, 12). With the assurance that the Son of Man will one day bring God’s people home into glory, beatitudes are also given (22:7, 14). From promise to blessing, the focus of these liturgical elements is to inspire commitment. We are challenged to obey God’s prophetic word (22:7), to live righteously in an idolatrous world (22:11), and to serve as priests even if our blood is spilled in the name of ministering to others (22:14). We are invited to the table of presence to receive the Spirit’s sustaining gifts. “Come!” say the Spirit and the bride. The Spirit is ready to flood, empower, and guide the life of the church (22:16–17). Once again Christ our King promises, “Yes, I am coming soon” (22:20a). Like the faithful bride who awaits the coming of the Lamb, we respond, “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!” (22:20b). As the liturgy ends, God’s grace remains with John, the churches, and all those who have journeyed with them through Revelation (22:21).

Creation has come full circle, from the perfect garden of Eden (Gn 1–2) to the city-garden of the new Jerusalem in the new heaven and new earth (Rv 21–22).