Chapter I Purpose, Theme And Authorship Of Revelation
PURPOSE, THEME AND AUTHORSHIP OF REVELATION
IN form, symbolism, purpose and meaning the book of Revelation is beautiful beyond description. Where in all literature do we find anything that excels the majestic description of the Son of man walking in the midst of the seven golden lampstands (Rev. 1: 12–20), or the vivid portrayal of the Christ, Faithful and True, going forth unto victory, seated upon a white horse, arrayed with a garment sprinkled with blood, followed by the armies of heaven (19: 11–16)? Where, again, do we find a sharper contrast than that between the doom of Babylon on the one hand, and the joy of Jerusalem the Golden on the other (18: 19; 21: 22)? And where are the throne set in heaven and the blessedness of heavenly life depicted in a manner more serenely simple, yet beautiful in its very simplicity (4: 2—5: 14; 7: 13–17)? What a wealth of comfort; what an insight into the future; above all, what an unveiling of the love of God are contained in the words of the prophecy of this book!
I. THE PURPOSE OF THE BOOK
In the main, the purpose of the book of Revelation is to comfort the militant Church in its struggle against the forces of evil. It is full of help and comfort for persecuted and suffering Christians. To them is given the assurance that God sees their tears 17; 21: 4); their prayers are influential in world affairs (8: 3, 4) and their death is precious in His sight. Their final victory is assured (15: 2); their blood will be avenged (19: 2); their Christ lives and reigns for ever and for ever. He governs the world in the interest of His Church (5: 7, 8). He is coming again to take His people to Himself in ‘the marriage supper of the Lamb’ and to live with them for ever in a rejuvenated universe (21: 22).
As we think of the glorious hope of the second coming, our hearts are filled with joy; our souls are consumed with a breathless impatience; our eyes attempt to pierce the dark clouds which veil the future, hoping that the glorious descent of the Son of man may burst upon the view. It is a longing which gushes into words: ‘And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And he that hears, let him say, Come’ (22: 17).
But as we consider these truths we realize that already He is with us—with us in the Spirit, walking in the midst of the seven golden lampstands (1: 12–20). ‘And he laid his right hand upon me, saying, Fear not; I am the first and the last, and the living one; and I was dead, and behold, I am alive for evermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades.’ We are, indeed, more than conquerors through Him that loved us!
II. THE THEME OF THE BOOK
The theme is the victory of Christ and of His Church over the dragon (Satan) and his helpers. The Apocalypse is meant to show us that things are not what they seem. The beast that comes up out of the abyss seems to be victorious. He ‘makes war with them, overcomes them, and kills them. And their dead bodies lie in the street of the great city which spiritually is called Sodom and Egypt, where also their Lord was crucified. And from among the peoples and tribes and tongues and nations do men look upon their dead bodies three days and a half, and suffer not their dead bodies to be laid in a tomb. And they that dwell on the earth rejoice over them, and make merry; and they send gifts one to another; because these two prophets tormented them that dwell on the earth’ (11: 7–10). But this rejoicing is premature. In reality it is the believer who triumphs. ‘And after the three days and a half the breath of life from God entered into them, and they stood upon their feet; and great fear fell upon them that beheld them... the dominion over the world became the dominion of our Lord and of his Christ; and he shall reign for ever and ever’ (11: 11, 15).
Throughout the prophecies of this wonderful book Christ is pictured as the Victor, the Conqueror (1: 18; 2: 8; 5: 9 ff.; 6: 2; 11: 15; 12: 9 ff.; 14: 1, 14; 15: 2 ff.; 19: 16; 20: 4; 22: 3). He conquers death, Hades, the dragon, the beast, the false prophet, and the men who worship the beast. He is victorious; as a result, so are we, even when we seem to be hopelessly defeated.
Let us look, for instance, at the great company of believers who are portrayed in chapter 7. Their garments were filthy, but they are washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb. They were in ‘great tribulation’, but have come out of it (7: 14). They were killed, but they stand upon their feet (11: 11). They are persecuted by the dragon, the beast, and the false prophet, but in the end we see them standing victorious on Mount Zion. Rather, we see the Lamb, and with Him a hundred and forty-four thousand, having His name, and the name of His Father written on their foreheads (14: 1). They triumph over the beast (15: 2).
Does it seem as if their prayers are not heard (6: 10)? The judgments sent upon the earth are God’s answer to their pleading (8: 3–5). These very prayers constitute the key that will unlock the mysteries of any sound philosophy of history.
Do they seem to be defeated? In reality they reign! Yes, they reign upon the earth (5: 10), in heaven with Christ a thousand years (20: 4), in the new heaven and earth for ever and ever (22: 5).
And what happens to those who seem to be conquerors, the dragon 12: 3), the beast (13: 1), the false prophet (13: 11) and Babylon (14: 8)? They are defeated—and in exactly the reverse order. Babylon falls in 18: 2, the beast and the false prophet are horribly punished in 19: 20 and the dragon is confined to unending torment in 20: 10.
In short, the theme of this book is stated most gloriously and completely in these words: ‘These shall war against the Lamb, and the Lamb shall conquer them, for he is Lord of lords, and King of kings; and they also shall conquer that are with him called and chosen and faithful’ (17: 14).
III. THE PEOPLE TO WHOM THE BOOK IS ADDRESSED
On my desk lies a recently published commentary on the Apocalypse. It is a very ‘interesting’ book. It views the Apocalypse as a kind of history written beforehand. It discovers in this last book of the Bible copious and detailed references to Napoleon, wars in the Balkans, the great European War of 1914–1918, the German ex-emperor Wilhelm, Hitler and Mussolini, and so on. But these kinds of explanations, and others like them, must at once be dismissed.[1] For what possible good would the suffering and severely persecuted Christians of John’s day have derived from specific and detailed predictions concerning European conditions which would prevail some two thousand years later?
A sound interpretation of the Apocalypse must take as its starting-point the position that the book was intended for believers living in John’s day and age. The book owes its origin, at least in part, to contemporary conditions. It is God’s answer to the prayers and tears of severely persecuted Christians scattered about in the cities of Asia Minor.[2]
Nevertheless, although it is true that we must take as our starting-point the age in which John lived, and must even emphasize the fact that the conditions which actually prevailed during the last decade of the first century AD furnished the immediate occasion for this prophecy, we should give equal prominence to the fact that this book was intended not only for those who first read it, but for all believers throughout this entire dispensation.
We submit the following arguments for this position.
First, the affliction to which the Church was subjected in the days of the apostle John is typical of the persecution which true believers must endure throughout this entire dispensation (2 Tim. 3: 12), and especially just before Christ’s second coming (Mt. 24: 29, 30).
Secondly, many of the predictions in which the book abounds (e.g. the ‘seals’, ‘trumpets’ and ‘bowls’) concern principles and happenings which are so broad in their scope that they cannot be confined to one definite year or period of years, but span the centuries, reaching out to the great consummation.
Thirdly, the letters in chapters 2 and 3 are addressed to the seven churches. Seven is the number which symbolizes completeness. Its use here indicates that the Church as a whole is in mind and that the admonitions and consolations of this book were meant for Christian believers throughout the centuries.
Finally, all those who read and study this book in any age are called blessed (1: 3). As at the beginning, so also at the close of the book the author addresses himself, not merely to one group of men living in one decade, but to ‘every man that hears the words of the prophecy of this book’ (22: 18) .
IV. THE AUTHOR OF THE BOOK
The author tells us that his name is John (1: 1, 4, 9; 22: 8). But the question is, which John? For some deny that John, the beloved disciple, wrote the Apocalypse. This is partly due to the fact that whereas the author of the Fourth Gospel and the three love-Epistles never mentions his own name, the author of the Apocalypse tells us that his name is John.
Again, it is pointed out that there is a striking difference between the style and general tone of the Gospel and Epistles on the one hand, and Revelation on the other. But read the Gospel of John and then read the Apocalypse. Do you notice the difference? In the former the ideas flow smoothly; in the latter they are introduced abruptly—you never know what the author is going to talk about next. The former emphasizes God’s love; the latter—so it is said—stresses His stern justice. The former describes the inner condition of the heart; the latter dwells on the external course of events. The former is written in beautiful, idiomatic Greek; the latter is written in what has been called ‘rugged, Hebraistic, barbarous’ Greek.[3]
It is also claimed that there is a marked difference between the doctrine of the Gospel and the Apocalypse. The former is broad-minded, universalistic; it preaches the ‘whosoever’ gospel and the doctrine of salvation by grace. The latter, it is said, is narrow-minded, particularistic; it is Jewish in its doctrine of salvation and it stresses the necessity of good works.[4]
Finally, it is pointed out that, as early as the third century AD, Dionysius of Alexandria ascribed the book of Revelation to ‘another John’, a view that was adopted by the ecclesiastical historian Eusebius.
Now some are convinced by these arguments that some John other than the beloved disciple wrote the Apocalypse.[5] They still believe that John, the apostle, was responsible for the Fourth Gospel. Others accept the Johannine authorship of the Apocalypse but claim that some other person—maybe another John, maybe not even a John—wrote the Gospel.[6] And, of course, there are the radicals who deny that the apostle John wrote either the Gospel or the Apocalypse.[7]
But let us examine the arguments for a moment. The first impresses one by its weakness. Surely the very fact that the author of the Apocalypse merely calls himself John indicates that he was very well known, not only in one particular locality but throughout the churches of Asia. When he simply called himself John, without any additional designation, everybody knew just who was meant. Does not the conclusion seem warranted that this person who was so well known must have been the apostle John? Suppose the author of the book which you are now reading simply called himself William; do you think for a minute that everybody would immediately guess who wrote it? We are thoroughly convinced that there was only one John who did not need to add ‘the apostle’, for the very reason that he was known as the apostle! Besides, the author does not call himself apostle for the simple reason that he wrote this book in the capacity of seer, to whom visions were revealed (cf. Jn. 15: 27; Acts 1: 22–23; 1 Cor. 9: 1).
The difference in grammar, in style and in general tone must be admitted. But does this mean that John, the apostle, cannot have written the Apocalypse? In our opinion it does not. How, then, shall we account for this difference? Some there are who hold that when John wrote the Gospel he had assistants, perhaps the elders in Ephesus; and that the absence of these assistants when John was in Patmos would account for the peculiar grammar and style of the Apocalypse.[8]
Other elements may enter into the explanation. First, we should not exaggerate these differences in style and language. Between the Gospel and the Apocalypse there is also a strong body of resemblances—a fact that, of late, many are beginning to emphasize. These similarities are striking. They are to be found even in peculiar grammatical constructions and in characteristic expressions. (Cf. Jn. 3: 36 with Rev. 22: 17; Jn. 10: 18 with Rev. 2: 27; Jn. 20: 12 with Rev. 3: 4; Jn. 1: 1 with Rev. 19: 13; and Jn. 1: 29 with Rev. 5: 6[9].)
Again, with reference to the style, should we expect to find the same style in a history of events (the Gospel), a personal letter (the Epistles), and the Apocalypse or unveiling (Revelation)? In this connection, let us not forget that when John wrote the last book of the Bible, his soul was in such a condition of deep, inner emotion, surprise and ecstasy (for he was ‘in the Spirit’), that his earlier, Jewish training may have exerted itself more forcibly and may even have influenced his style and language.
We feel certain that the transcendent nature of the subjectmatter, the deeply emotional state of the author when he received and wrote these visions, and his abundant use of the Old Testament—Hebrew and Greek[10]—are responsible to a large extent for the differences in style which remain after the striking similarities have been taken into account.
We need not dwell at length on the so-called difference in doctrinal emphasis. The simple fact is that the Fourth Gospel and the Apocalypse do not clash on even a single point. In fact, the agreement in doctrine is remarkable.[11] The Gospel calls Jesus ‘the Lamb of God’ (amnos) in John 1: 29; so does the Apocalypse (arnion), twenty-nine times. The Epistles and the Gospel use the title ‘the Logos’ with reference to our Lord (Jn. 1: 1 ff.; 1 Jn. 1: 1); so does the Apocalypse (19: 13). The Gospel represents Christ as the pre-temporal, eternal Being (1: 1 ff.); so does the Apocalypse (22: 13; cf. 5: 12, 13). The Gospel of John ascribes man’s salvation to the sovereign grace of God and to the blood of Jesus Christ (1: 29; 3: 3; 5: 24; 10: 10, 11); so does the Apocalypse (7: 14; 12: 11; 21: 6; 22: 17)—most emphatically. And the ‘whosoever’ doctrine is found in both books (Jn. 3: 36; Rev. 7: 9; 22: 17).
There are no doctrinal differences!
Finally, with reference to the opinion of Dionysius, already quoted, it should be clear that this view rests upon a misreading of a very careful statement of Papias,[12] and was probably influenced by opposition to Chiliasm[13] which sought to justify itself by an appeal to the book of Revelation.[14]
The early Church is almost unanimous in ascribing the Revelation to the apostle John. That was the opinion of Justin Martyr (c. AD 140), of Irenaeus (c. AD 180), who was a disciple of a disciple of the apostle John, of the Muratorian Canon (c. AD 200), of Clement of Alexandria (c. AD 200), of Tertullian of Carthage (c. AD 220), of Origen of Alexandria (c. AD 223) and of Hippolytus (c. AD 240).[15]
When we add to all this that according to a very strong tradition the apostle John was banished to the isle of Patmos (cf. 1: 9), and that he spent the closing years of his life at Ephesus, to which the first of the seven letters of the Apocalypse was addressed (2: 1), the conclusion that the last book of the Bible was written by ‘the disciple whom Jesus loved’ is inescapable.
V. THE DATE OF THE BOOK
The question now arises, when did John write the Apocalypse? In the year 69 (or even earlier), or must we reverse the figure and make it 96 (or perhaps 95)? One cannot find a single really cogent argument in support of the earlier date. The arguments produced are based on late and unreliable testimonies, on the wholly imaginary idea that John did not yet know his Greek when he wrote the Apocalypse, and on a very questionable literal interpretation of certain passages which most certainly have a symbolical meaning. Thus, for example, we are told that the Temple at Jerusalem was still standing when the Apocalypse was written, for 11: 1 reads: ‘Rise and measure the temple of God.’
The late date has very strong support. Says Irenaeus: ‘For that (the apocalyptic vision) was seen not a very long time since, but almost in our own day, toward the end of Domitian’s reign.’ Again he says: ‘... the church in Ephesus, founded by Paul, and lived in by John until the time of Trajan (AD 98–117), is a true witness of the tradition of the apostles.’[16]
When, in connection with these strong and definite evidences, we remember that the Apocalypse reflects an age in which Ephesus has already lost its first love; Sardis is already ‘dead’; Laodicea—which was destroyed by an earthquake during Nero’s reign—has been rebuilt and is boasting of its spiritual wealth (3: 17); John has been ‘banished’—a very common form of persecution during Domitian’s reign; the Church has already endured persecutions in the past (20: 4); and the Roman Empire, as such, has become the great antagonist of the Church (17: 9); when we remember all these facts we are forced to the conclusion that the late date (AD 95 or 96) is correct.[17] The Apocalypse was written toward the end of Domitian’s reign by the apostle John.
Yet the real author is not John but the Almighty God Himself. ‘The revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave him... and he sent and signified it by his angel unto his servant John...’(1: 1). To be sure, John, the apostle, wrote the Revelation. But God, through Christ, was the real Author. Therefore what this book predicts is not the product of human fancy, prone to error, but the revelation of the mind and purpose of God concerning the history of the Church.
At Copenhagen, among the many noble sculptures of Thorwaldsen, there is one of the apostle John. His countenance is suffused with the serenity of heaven. He is actually looking up to heaven. His writing-tablet is before him. In his hand is his pen. But the apostle’s pen does not touch the tablet. He will not venture on a single word until it is given to him from above.[18]