Lesley Richardson

The message of the crucified and risen Jesus took the Mediterranean world by storm in the first century. Yet it is clear that the writers of the New Testament wrestled with the challenge of presenting such an unexpected Messiah to both their Jewish and Greek audiences. A death by crucifixion was regarded with unremitting horror in the ancient world, so the “power and wisdom” (1 Corinthians 1:24) of such a figure was not readily apparent. These are the facts that add to the drama, the thunderclap, which is the first chapter of the book of Revelation.

The apocalyptic vision which appears here is brought by one who introduces himself simply by his name, John. According to ancient church tradition, this was the apostle, the son of Zebedee and one of the first followers of Jesus, who was well known to the churches to whom he was writing, and therefore needed no designation save his name to be recognized by his readers. As he set down the dazzling revelations that came to him, he did not wish to insist upon his apostolic authority, but to emphasize only the things he shared with his fellow believers, that is, the trials they were experiencing as a result of bearing witness to their faith in Christ.

A church in peril

The followers of Jesus were learning that their steadfast allegiance to Him was becoming perilous, and threatened to bring down upon their defenseless heads the wrath of the Roman government. They were in thlipsis, tribulation, as they awaited the return of their Lord, and the establishment of His reign. John had come to understand there was only one way in which he and his fellow Christians could enter this coming Kingdom: through patient endurance of the afflictions they were suffering, just as Christ Himself had endured and entered into His glory.

The persecution of the church had begun first under the Emperor Nero in the sixth decade of the first century, then continued under Domitian in the ninth. During these times, many Christians were put to death in the cruelest of fashions, imprisoned, or sent into exile for their faith. John himself had been banished to the small island of Patmos in the Aegean Sea, confined in this lonely and desolate place where he was far from the civilized centers of the Roman world, and the fellowship of those he loved in the church.1 

Domatilla with Nereus and Achilleus, by Rubens, 1608, Santa Maria in Vallicella, Rome, Wikimedia Commons.

The Italian poet Dante, who was banished from his hometown of Florence, expressed something of the pain and weariness of exile in his Paradiso:

You shall leave everything you love most dearly:

This is the arrow that the bow of exile

Shoots first. You are to know the bitter taste

Of others’ bread, how salt it is, and know

How hard a path it is …2

The Tomb of Dante at Ravenna, by Francis Dillon, 1865, Wikimedia Commons

Nevertheless, it was in exile that great Old Testament figures such as Jacob, Moses and Daniel received their revelations of God’s glory; so also, although John undoubtedly experienced many hardships at Patmos, it was here that the vast realms of heaven were opened to his gaze, and its hidden mysteries unfolded.

The overwhelming vision

He tells us that he was “in the Spirit” on the Lord’s Day, lifted into a sphere beyond time and space, when he suddenly heard a voice behind him uttering the majestic words: “I am the Alpha and the Omega” – and, turning, saw one like a “Son of Man” in the midst of seven golden lampstands. In order to convey to his readers the overwhelming impact and significance of that which was opened to his gaze, John ransacks the Hebrew scriptures, while his description was also colored by the sights and sounds of the small rocky island where he was held captive.

Lying in the midst of the sun-drenched Aegean, where the endless waves lap the shores and the musical notes of the sea sound continually, the island of Patmos has a special beauty. The Greek word thalassa occurs many times in the book of Revelation, so that the images of the Mediterranean Sea leave an indelible impression on the whole work. Sometimes the fabled waters appear “wine dark,” at other times green as emerald or blue as azure, while the radiant air seems to light the crests of the waves with fire, and the rising and setting sun stains the wide expanse of the ocean with rose and gold.

After John turned, it was clear to him that the Figure who met his gaze, although possessing the form of a man, nevertheless manifested a surpassing, divine glory which could only belong to a heavenly Being. This immediately evoked for John the night visions of Daniel the prophet, who had foreseen the coming of One like a “Son of Man” on the clouds of heaven, who was presented to the Ancient of Days, and “given dominion, and glory, and a kingdom, that all peoples, nations and languages should serve him” (Daniel7:13-14).

John proceeded to describe for his readers every aspect of the appearance of this Being. He was clothed with a long robe, poderes,3 the same as that worn by the High Priest,with a golden girdle surrounding his chest, denoting his royal status, and thus suggesting a union of kingly and priestly offices. Just like the Ancient of Days in Daniel’s prophecy, his head and hair were white as snow, as wool, symbolizing the marriage of age-old wisdom with the stainless purity of youth, while his eyes blazed like “a flame of fire,” directing an all-searching glance, able to pierce the innermost thoughts and dispositions of the soul.

Reinforcing these images of fiery radiance, his feet were like chalcolibanus, fine brass, as bright as burnished metal glowing in a kiln. The great statue which Nebuchadnezzar had seen, representing different earthly kingdoms and described in Daniel 2, had feet composed of iron and clay. Brittle and fundamentally flawed, the picture indicated the inevitable fall and passing away of those kingdoms. The feet of the Son of Man, by contrast, had no admixture of clay, suggesting that He had, as it were, walked through a furnace, and they had become transmuted. Those feet of perfect strength and steadfastness had the ability to tread down His enemies and establish His kingdom. Rome might appear to have uncontested might and power, but

His dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away,
and his kingdom one that shall not be destroyed
(Daniel 7:14)

The voice that John heard, which he next described, was as “the sound of many waters,” echoing the many waters of the sea which the voice of the Lord alone could subdue (Psalms 6:7; 93:4). In his right hand He held a wreath of stars, emblematic of God’s rule over the stellar spaces of heaven, while out of his mouth went a sharp two-edged sword, clearly symbolizing the sword of the Spirit, the word of God (Hebrews 4:12), and indicating that this One alone could discern the thoughts and intents of the heart, and execute righteous judgment in the earth.

This last image is clearly apocalyptic, and forbids the thought that John was attempting to describe the vision he saw in any kind of naturalistic way. He was rather seeking to represent timeless, eternal truths through figurative language, and following in this way in the train of other Hebrew prophets. Their paramount concern was to explicate the deep mysteries of their faith through powerful symbols, rather than striving for an outward aesthetic form such as the Greeks sought after.

Who was this Person?

But, at this point in John’s description, the reader might well pause to ask: did the apostle know the identity of this Person he was describing, and understand that this was the same One whom so many decades earlier he had followed and loved, and upon whose breast he had lain at the Last Supper?

The final metaphor gives the clue which provides the answer: John compares the countenance of this Son of Man to “the sun shining in his strength,” like the brightness of noonday under a cloudless sky. The splendor of that illumination, and the words John chooses to describe it, could mean nothing other than the fact that he was recalling the occasion when Jesus took the three apostles, Peter, James and John, to a high mountain apart, where He was transfigured before them, so that “his face shone like the sun” (Matthew 17:2).  

As the memory of that never-to-be-forgotten event burned within him, John saw again on the face of the Person before him the glory he had glimpsed on the mountain. Even if he had not at first recognized Him, surely now, as if a flash of lightning pierced his mind, he understood that he was in the presence of that same Jesus, and the radiance that had departed from the face of his Master as they descended from the mountain was again upon Him, bathing Him with an unfading and resplendent beauty.

The effect on John of such an open revelation of the risen glory of Christ was such that he fell at His feet as dead,” yet Jesus immediately stretched out his right hand and laid it upon him, saying “Fear not.” These were the same words which He had spoken on the Mount of Transfiguration, when the disciples were terrified at the sound of the divine voice (Matthew 17:7). The touch of His hand, as of old, imparted strength, and the mellow accents of His loving speech brought comfort. John must have then understood with certainty that this indeed was his beloved Lord, Jesus, manifesting once again that divine union of majesty and tenderness.

This One whom John saw in the midst of the transcendent circle of the seven golden candlesticks, bearing the wreath of stars, was therefore the One who had tabernacled amongst men as the lowly Jesus. Now He was still in the form of a man, but dressed in the habiliments of Deity, and, as if a curtain were drawn aside, John recognized in this sublime Figure the ultimate Source of light and truth in the universe, and its supreme Potentate. And He was continuing to speak to His apostle. Unlike in the days of His ministry recorded in the Gospels, when He refused to openly declare His Deity, He now spoke of His own glory without any veil or obfuscation.

Christ Pantocrator, mosaic from Hagia Sophia, Istanbul, 1261, Wikimedia Commons

Revealing His true identity

“I am the first and the last,” He said; that is, He declared the title of the eternal God (Isaiah 44:6), as belonging properly to Himself, and the true identity of His Being as one with Yahweh, the Almighty,4 and the Ancient of Days. These great words meant the claim by the glorified Christ to exist before all things, and to be the final goal and end of creation. And yet, after making this declaration, He followed it with a wondrous paradox: that He, the Immortal, the eternally Living One, had died.

“I am he that liveth, and was dead,” He says. He did not say, “I was dead,” but “I became dead” (Greek ginomai), as if describing a voluntary action undertaken on His part. It is the same word that John, in his role of evangelist, uses to describe the Incarnation: “The Word became flesh.” This is the stupendous fact of the Atonement: that the Lord of Life had, of His own free and beneficent will, gathered to Himself the robes of flesh with its decree of mortality, and submitted to the cruelty and degradation of the cross, that He might taste death for every man.

And now, to John, He calls attention to another wonder: “Behold!” He says, “I am alive for evermore … or, as the Greek has it, “living unto the ages of ages.” Although He had been crucified, He had put off the grave clothes redolent with myrrh, and had risen out of death in the power of an endless life: never again would death have dominion over Him, and never again would He lie in the darkness of a tomb.

Moreover, in virtue of the work He had completed on the cross, He had become conqueror of all the spheres of Satan’s power. As the Victor over death, He had descended into that gloomy realm which strikes fear into the hearts of all men, the subterranean vault of Hades, guarded like a strong fortress with locked and barred gates.5 There He had fulfilled the ancient prophecy, had broken in pieces the gates of bronze and cut in sunder the bars of iron (Isaiah 45:2). Now at His side were hanging the spoils of His conquest, “the keys of death and Hadesas a rightful possession, that He might lift out those who are His own, to share in the plenitude of His resurrection life.

Harrowing of Hades, fresco in the Chora Church, Istanbul, c. 1315.
 José Luiz Bernardes Ribeiro via Wikipedia CC.

The true subject of Revelation

Such was the glorious Personage who presented Himself to His servant John, and commissioned him to record the “things which must come to pass,” a representation of the rise and fall of earth’s kingdoms until the final cataclysmic events, set against the backdrop of the overarching rule of heaven. It is the consummation of all previous prophecy, for what Daniel had been told to seal and shut up until the time of the end, John was now directed to reveal. And yet, what was primarily disclosed was not secrets about the future, but a Person: the Revelation is the unveiling of Jesus Christ, who is King and Lord of creation and history, and the Light of the knowledge of God removing the darkness of evil and sin in the earth.

And this Person, although so different in appearance from the Christ of the Gospels, was one and the same with the Jesus whom John had formerly known and loved. In that searing moment when John’s eyes fell upon the Risen Lord, and as he felt the touch of Christ’s gentle hand, there must have flashed into his mind the conviction that this One was the same, yesterday, today and forever, and that the love of Christ for His own was undiminished by the glory to which He was exalted. His heart, bound by the golden girdle, was as overflowing with kindness as it was when John lay on His breast, and His hands that held the stars were as tender as in the days when He stretched them forth in healing and compassion; His shining feet were as bent on errands of mercy as when He had trodden the dusty roads of Judea in lowly service.

Above all, this One whose face was as “the sun shineth in his strength” was the One who had become “more marred than any man” as He hung upon the cross for the sins of the world. It was for this reason that He was “Prince of the rulers of the earth,” and He who was crowned with thorns now wore the wreaths of empire. His dominion was a true one, resting upon love and sacrifice; He had become the King of men and women because He had loved them with an everlasting love, which he had shown in nothing less than in assuming their nature and in dying and shedding his precious blood for them.

Therefore, those who are in His kingdom willingly own His reign, and gladly lay their hearts in homage at His feet. Washed from their sins in His blood, they have been given a share in His Royalty and unchangeable Priesthood, a fulfilment of the ancient promise made to Israel: “You shall be to Me a kingdom of priests and a royal nation” (Exodus 19:6). This suggests that each of His followers may have direct access to God, passing within the veil by the new and living Way which Christ has made, to come boldly to the throne of grace (Hebrews 4:16).

The priestly ministry

Leviticus 9:22-23 makes clear that blessing others was part of the ministry of the priests in Old Testament times; the spiritual authority given to them means they have power to move the arm of God through prayer in order to bestow peace, joy, and redemptive power upon individuals who are suffering. Even more than that, this royal priesthood may, through its intercession before the throne, actually play a part in the government of the world, and participate in the divine ordering of war and peace to the very ends of the earth.

This is illustrated by the circumstances in which John was writing. The iron power of Rome, which had already crushed empires and nations, had now been directed against the little company of believers, and their situation, humanly speaking, was dire. Yet John knew that, behind the scenes being played out on earth, there was One watching over the unfolding drama, God the Pantokrator, who was turning all things and events toward His Kingdom purposes. And, exalted far above all emperors, kings, and armies, his crucified and Risen Lord was ruling over the course of history, and certain in due time to manifest His sovereignty and vindicate His own.

We are those on whom the ends of the world has come: the nations are gripped and held fast in the grip of evil and idolatrous systems, gross darkness covers the earth, and Satan is striving for control over mankind. The prospects of war, famine, and plague have increased exponentially, and death seems to be stalking the nations. Yet a light shines, dispelling the darkness: “How tremendous is this heavenly, eternal calling to the royal priesthood with its commission to love and save; it is the light of priestly saving love which comes from the heart of Jesus. In a world marked by death, only priestly souls can help others to cross over from death to life, sustained by the spirit, the life and blood of their great High Priest.”6

The kingdoms of this world are passing, but the Kingdom of God is coming. During the present period of trial and distress the believers are kept through their faith and their passionate devotion to Jesus, not through any skill in understanding prophecy. They understand that God holds in His hands the destiny of nations and their own futures, and that because they may enter the very Holy of Holies with their pleas they are truly a world power. “He who has influence upon the heart of God rules the world.”7 Their continual affirmation is: Maranatha, Lord. The day will come when Jesus will be unveiled before the eyes of all peoples, and He will not then be a humbled figure, broken upon a cross, but a King robed in splendor and majesty, to whom universal dominion has been given.

  1. It is commonly supposed that John was banished to Patmos by Domitian, in the final decade of the 1st century. This is according to the testimony of Irenæus, who was the disciple of Polycarp, who had been the disciple of St. John (although a strong case may be made for an earlier banishment, during Nero’s reign). According to church historian Eusebius, Flavia Domatilla, pictured by Rubens, was a Roman noblewoman and a relative of the Emperor Domitian, who also sent her into exile for her Christian faith during the 90’s.
  2. Dante, Paradiso 17.55-60
  3. This is the word the Septuagint uses to describe the robe of the High Priest (Exodus 28:4; 29:5). Josephus also describes the garments which the priests and the High Priest wore in the Temple: “a long robe reaching to the feet,” and around the breast, a girdle embroidered with colors and flowers, interwoven with gold (The Antiquities of the Jews, 3.7: 2, 4).
  4. The Greek word for “Almighty” is pantokrator which describes the one who has dominion over all things. It is this word which in the Greek Old Testament describes the Lord of Sabaoth, the Lord of hosts (Amos 9:5; Hosea 12:5). The word occurs in the New Testament seven times, and six of those instances are in Revelation.
  5. In Christian theology, the “Harrowing of Hell” is understood as the triumphant descent of Christ into Hell (or Hades). This descent happened between the time of His death on the cross and his resurrection, and implies the bringing of salvation to the righteous who had died since the beginning of the world, but before the arrival of the Messiah. In the fresco, Christ is pictured as first raising Adam and Eve.
  6. M. Basilea Schlink, 2017, The Royal Priesthood, Evangelical Sisterhood of Mary, Arizona, p 26.
  7. Thielicke, Helmut, 1962, “The Parable of the Importunate Widow,” in Christ and the meaning of life; a book of sermons and meditations, NY Harper, p 90.