Prelude to the (Original) Tale of Two Cities (Revelation 14:14–20)
REVELATION 14:14–20
Prelude to the (Original) Tale of Two Cities
In what has turned out to be for many readers (and interpreters) one of the more puzzling moments in the book, the next thing up in John’s narrative is a pair of agricultural metaphors, both of them intrinsic to the Middle Eastern culture of John’s time, and one of which (the grain harvest) has had something of a clouded history of interpretation. At issue historically are the two essential questions of interpretation: context and content. Although the overall content in itself is generally clear enough—John is simply presenting two metaphors of harvest, one of grain, the other of grapes1—there has been little agreement on the first of these, whether it is a gathering of the “saints” or the first of two pictures of judgment.
Of even greater difficulty has been the question of context, so much so that a considerable majority of interpreters more or less leave this question alone, in terms either of its role in the narrative itself or (especially) how it fits at this point in the narrative. And here is a place, it would seem, that the insertion of locational numbers (i.e., chapters and verses) into the text may very well have gotten in the way of coming to terms with what John intended. One wonders, for example, if in the numbering system these twin narratives had begun our chapter 15, as I am suggesting here, whether that might not have offered interpreters of the last several centuries better clues as to what John intended. In any case, contextually one can make very good sense of the overall structure of the book by seeing these two corresponding visions as a deliberate prelude to the (original) “tale of two cities” that follows.
In this view, the rest of the book thus takes on a common chiastic AB-BA pattern, wherein the present two scenes of harvest (one as positive and the other negative) serve to introduce in reverse order God’s coming judgments. Thus, first up after these two scenes is the (negative) tale of the first city, Rome, whose doom is announced with unrelenting force in chapters 15–20—with only momentary relief in 20:1–6 for the sake of the martyrs. The (positive) tale of the second city, the heavenly Jerusalem that comes down to earth the replace the first one, is then told in 21:1—22:5. Whether or not John intended the overall structure in quite the way here suggested, it would seem to make especially good sense to see the present two brief scenes of harvest as intentional anticipatory pictures of the end of human history as we know it, rather than treating them as two rather random pictures of harvest, with little or no connection to the narrative as a whole.
In any case, since the second picture picks up an Old Testament metaphor expressly depicting judgment, the problems lie altogether with the first one. And here the very lack of any hint of judgment—indeed, who could possibly have read it negatively had it not been followed by the second one?—would seem to indicate that the two metaphors together, and in chiastic fashion, anticipate what follows: first (vv. 14–16), the final “gathering” of the people of God anticipates chapters 21–22; second (vv. 17–20), the final judgment of those who are not anticipates chapters 17–20. Such a view, in fact, makes sense both of the reason for there being two different pictures at all as well as of their content and differences.
The Grain Harvest (14:14–16)
14I looked, and there before me was a white cloud, and seated on the cloud was one like a son of man with a crown of gold on his head and a sharp sickle in his hand. 15Then another angel came out of the temple and called in a loud voice to him who was sitting on the cloud, “Take your sickle and reap, because the time to reap has come, for the harvest of the earth is ripe.” 16So he who was seated on the cloud swung his sickle over the earth, and the earth was harvested.
As noted above, and despite their apparent ease of understanding, with these words John let loose in the church generations of debate regarding some of its particulars as well as its overall intent: whether it pictures the gathering of the righteous, or the “final harvest” of the wicked as they await the judgment pictured in the next scene. But this question seems too easily resolved as to require much debate. Indeed, if one had only this image and not the following one, there is hardly a reader in history who would have, or even could have, read it as other than positive, thus having to do with the final gathering of God’s own for their eternal rest. But since no outcome of the harvest is noted, it has been the wont of many to read it negatively, as a companion to the clearly negative gathering and crushing of the grapes that follows. In response one might equally note that no one could very easily read it that way were it not followed by the next imagery.
So at issue, finally, is what should prevail in one’s interpretation: either what is said (or in this case, not said) in the text itself, or its supposed relationship to the passage that follows. Since a grain harvest seldom serves as a negative image in Scripture,2 and since the passage lacks the explicit metaphor of judgment found in the next imagery (“trampled in the winepress outside the city”), it seems far more likely that John here intended two contrasting images, the first one of the gathering of the righteous, the second of the judgment of the wicked.
As throughout, the narrative begins with John’s once more telling the reader I looked; but what follows is especially “clipped” in the Greek, which the NIV translators have (correctly) put into idiomatic English: and there before me was a white cloud. Thus, whatever John might have envisioned by the metaphor itself, he clearly intends this scene to image something “above the earth,” not on it. The real issues of interpretation, therefore, are located in the rest of the sentence that makes up our verse 14. The difficulties in this case, however, do not lie with the relatively understandable imagery itself, namely, that seated on the cloud was one like a son of man with a crown of gold on his head and a sharp sickle in his hand; rather they lie altogether with its meaning. The problems for interpretation here are several, which initially lie basically in three areas: (a) that “son of man” is itself a Hebrew idiom that simply means “a human person”; (b) that in the Synoptic tradition this term is a primary means of self-identification by Jesus himself; and (c) that in John’s Gospel this term appears much less frequently, and always when the emphasis is on Jesus’ (then) present human life. Indeed, had John’s narrative not been followed by the next sentence, that “another angel” gave instruction to the “one like a son of man,” almost everyone would have thought of this as a referent to Christ. The ultimate difficulty, however, does lie with what is said next, that in context this “one like a son of man” takes instruction from another angel (meaning not another one with regard to this one, but yet another angel from heaven) who in this case came out of the temple and called in a loud voice to him who was sitting on the cloud. At issue finally is whether John intended his “one like a son of man” here to be titular at all, as over against putting emphasis altogether on the human likeness of the one sitting on the cloud.
To resolve this issue it must be noted first of all that this is apocalyptic imagery, not narrative history, and that for John especially, angels either “do” almost everything divine or set in motion such matters. The real difficulty for most Christian readers, therefore, is a preformed theological conclusion as to whether or not an angel can rightly signal the Risen Lord regarding the “harvest of the earth”; but in an apocalyptic book that seems like a small matter when set in the context of the overall imagery on its own. That John intends this as a reference to Christ seems to be made certain by the rest of what is said: first, the “one like a son of man” is seated “on the [white] cloud,” thus indicating his present heavenly existence; second, and far more importantly, this “one like a son of man” has “a gold crown on his head.” It is hard to imagine that with this imagery John intended anything other than royalty. Why, if this is not so, such imagery at all, one wonders? And one also wonders, what other royalty exists in heaven apart from the Risen Lord himself? And finally, one wonders still further, who else could possibly be intended by such imagery if not Christ—an angel, for example, who elsewhere in this book are never confused with human beings? To the contrary, everything else about the imagery except one’s theological predilections suggests that this is simply an apocalyptic way of describing Christ. The crucial point to all of this in the narrative, of course, is the final one: “the one like a son of man … had a sharp sickle in his hand,” which is the immediate point of everything.
The fact that John starts the next sentence (v. 15) with then another angel likewise points away from Christ to simply “another angel” among the many in this book. They are, after all, the heavenly beings whose activity keeps the narrative moving along—not to mention that the preceding description is precisely not that of any angel known in the biblical text. This angel is seen as having come out of the temple, probably intending the heavenly temple first noted in 11:19, which will now appear with some regularity in the rest of the narrative, but explicitly not in the New Jerusalem.3 Thus for John, the only “temple” that now exists, and ever will, is the heavenly one, which seems to be imagery pure and simple. This angel then called with a loud voice to him who was sitting on the cloud. This, of course, is the sentence that has caused so many interpreters to avoid what seems to be the plain sense of the text, that this latter figure is simply imagery that points to the risen Christ himself.
The rest of the paragraph then offers the injunction itself, which, now with language from Joel 3:13, basically repeats by way of direct address what had already been said by way of narrative: Take your sickle and reap,4 the reason for which is, in typical Semitic fashion, given as something of a doublet. That is, the time to reap has come, for [= because] the harvest of the earth is ripe. Here in particular the reader must not hear the language “the time has come” and “the earth is ripe” as suggesting that there is a divine schedule of some kind that is now set in motion. Rather this is imagery, pure and simple, pointing to the eschatological conclusion to life on the present earth, which is subject to decay. The imagery, of course, is that of a grain harvest, which, even though not specified as such, may be assumed because it stands in parallel to the next imagery, that of harvesting grapes. And so, we are told, the one who was seated on the cloud did as he was told: he … swung his sickle over the earth, and the earth was harvested. And again, because what follows in verses 17–20, with its clear expression of judgment, seems to stand in considerable contrast to this one, the interpretation of the present picture seems to be the normal one—the grain harvest as imagery for the gathering of God’s own people.
THE TRAMPLING OF THE GRAPES (14:17–20)
17Another angel came out of the temple in heaven, and he too had a sharp sickle. 18Still another angel, who had charge of the fire, came from the altar and called in a loud voice to him who had the sharp sickle, “Take your sharp sickle and gather the clusters of grapes from the earth’s vine, because its grapes are ripe.” 19The angel swung his sickle on the earth, gathered its grapes and threw them into the great winepress of God’s wrath. 20They were trampled in the winepress outside the city, and blood flowed out of the press, rising as high as the horses’ bridles for a distance of 1,600 stadia.
Everything about this imagery indicates that it is intended to be a companion to the prior one, even though, as noted above, how it serves as a companion, either as a parallel or as a contrast, is not immediately clear. Nevertheless, even though a considerable number of scholars consider it to be a parallel, expressing essentially the same reality (thus making the former also express judgment), that makes the former far more negative than the text itself actually suggests (that is, only an alleged synonymous parallel would ever allow such a view). But if the intent of the former image is not altogether certain, there is no question at all about this one; it is judgment all the way, signaled not only by the express language of “God’s wrath” (v. 19), but also by the further imagery of still another angel, who in this case was in charge of the fire, presumably on “the altar.” This is the angel who then came from the altar and called in a loud voice to the first angel, the one who first came out of the temple in heaven. The second angel commanded the first one to take your sharp sickle, with which he was then told to gather the clusters of grapes from the earth’s vines, because its grapes are ripe.
The rest of the paragraph then spells out the second angel’s obedience to the first angel’s command, an act of obedience that at the same time tends to stretch the reader’s imagination. Thus the angel swung his sickle on the earth, gathered its grapes and threw them into the great winepress of God’s wrath. The primary source of this imagery is Isaiah 63:3 and 6, where Yahweh speaks judgment against the nations.5 In doing so, John also now picks up language he first used regarding the Lamb in 6:16–17 (”hide us … from the wrath of the Lamb”), which in that case had been shared with God the Father, and also later repeated in 11:18 regarding “the Lord God Almighty.” The language of this latter passage is what John is here picking up and elaborating, as an expression of God’s (coming) judgment.
Finally, with one of those elusive passives in this book, the reader is told that they [the grapes] were trampled in the winepress outside the city. Equally elusive, along with who did the trampling, is the question of which city is now in view, or whether “the city” is merely part of the overall imagery, since such wine trampling usually took place outside any city. But in this case one is hard pressed not to imagine that the city John had in mind was Rome itself—especially so in light of the specific expressions of judgment that are to follow in chapters 15–18. And so the gruesome nature of the judgment is expressed finally in terms of the shedding of blood, which in this case is that of the Empire. Their blood thus flowed out of the press, and with such quantity that it rose as high as the horse’s bridles for a distance of 1,600 stadia.6 This, of course, is imagery, striking imagery, intended to express the enormity of God’s judgment on Rome when it would finally take place. From this picture John will turn immediately to the several expressions of judgment on the Empire, imaged as “the great city.”
What we have, therefore, in the great narrative that began in chapter 12 lies very much at the center of John’s overall story, and offers the theological/prophetic heart of the matter. Central to everything in the big picture for John is Christ and his defeat of Satan, both historically through the resurrection and ultimately, at the End, through the resurrection of believers and the final destruction of all that is evil. But those who follow Christ, John warns, must do so indeed, which in their case means that hard times lie just ahead. Thus even though God will finally save his own and judge the enemy, the present and near future will not be a bed of roses. In the meantime, therefore, God’s people in Asia Minor must do three things: continue to bear witness to the nations; be warned of the maddening adulteries of the enemy; and be prepared to suffer and die as part of their witness—all of which finds expression in the narratives that follow.
The present passage, therefore, is best seen as an introduction to the two major parts of the rest of the book, with the grain harvest coming first as an encouragement to God’s suffering people, and thus anticipating the narrative of 21:1—22:5, while the trampling of the grapes anticipates what lies next in chapters 15–20.
1. Thus bread and wine.
2. The lone exceptions in the OT are Jer 51:33 and Joel 3:13, the latter being the only other place it is accompanied by the twofold outcome of harvest: in that case garnering the wheat and burning the chaff.
3. See v. 17 below; cf. 15:5, 6, 8 (2x); 16:1, 17. Cf. n. 2 above, regarding Jer 51:33, the other place in the OT where the grain harvest is a negative image.
4. The Joel text in fact is the source of both the present imagery and the one that follows. Thus, “Swing the sickle, for the harvest is ripe. Come trample the grapes, for the winepress is full.” Cf. nn. 2 and 3 regarding Jer 51:33, the other place in the OT where the grain harvest is a negative image: “Daughter Babylon is like a threshing floor at the time it is trampled; the time to harvest her will soon come.”
5. The Isaiah passage reads: “I have trodden the winepress alone; … I trampled them in my anger and trod them down in my wrath.”
6. For American readers, this comes to about 180 miles (300 kilometers for the rest of the world).