The pattern of Jesus (Revelation, chapters 1–5)

Ted Grimsrud—August 8, 2023

[This is the second of a series of four posts on the book Revelation. The first is “Reading Revelation with an Anabaptist Sensibility.” The third is “Healing amidst the chaos (Revelation, chapters 6–16).]

If we take up the book of Revelation expecting it to present a case for the truthfulness of the peaceable way of Jesus, we will find plenty of evidence to confirm that expectation. The first five chapters introduce us to Jesus and his presence among Christian congregations of the late first century. These chapters make it clear that Jesus’s way stands in opposition to the domination system of the Roman Empire of the time—and all empires since.

The pattern of Jesus (1:1-6)

The first six verses of the book set the stage for what the book as a whole will be about. This is the “revelation of Jesus Christ.” That is, this is the Jesus of the gospels. We may accurately say this revelation comes from Jesus. More so, though, I think the meaning is that this book is about Jesus. And about interpreting life in light of Jesus. Once we look for it, we will see throughout the book allusions to the way of Jesus—or, as I want to say, “the pattern of Jesus.”

The word translated “revelation” is apocalypsis, may also be translated “apocalypse.” I think that latter translation may be misleading for us, though. It often has the connotation of future oriented, catastrophe oriented, kind of magical. Revelation is all too often seen as a different kind of writing than the rest of the Bible (“apocalyptic” literature). We should note that the word is not used again in Revelation. The book does not seem to want to make a point of being different. I think the best meaning is that this is a book of insight about Jesus and applying his message to life. This book is about our world, both the 1^st century and the 21^st century.

The statement, the “time is near” is not about predicting the future but rather urgency about the importance of the message of the book. To say “near” is a rhetorical flourish that has to do with the importance of choosing between Jesus and the Empire as the bases for one’s approach to life. We see an increased sense of urgency as we move through the three sets of plagues that come later in the book—going from 1/4 destruction to 1/3 to full, not to signify chronology but to say with increased intensity that this stuff really matters.

John writes “to the seven churches.” Revelation has the form of a letter written to a set of specific congregations in the late first century. I’ll consider this more when I discuss chapters two and three. It’s important to note right away, though, that this historical referent is an essential part of the book. John addresses actual people. These are congregations in seven different cities in “Asia,” which actually means the area called “Asia Minor” that is the far western edge of Asia, where it meets Europe in present-day Turkey. That there are precisely seven messages, though, tells us that we should see in them messages that are relevant to all congregations, as the number “seven” symbolizes wholeness, completeness. The seven messages at the same time speak to the historical reality of those seven congregations and a more general message to all churches.

John salutes Jesus in 1:5, the one who “Freed us from our sins by his blood.” This is the first mention of a crucial and often misunderstood symbol in Revelation, “blood.” It’s use here helps us see what is being signified. Realizing that the context for Revelation is the struggle for the loyalty of John’s readers between the Roman Empire and the community of Jesus helps us recognize that “freed from our sins” has to do with being liberated from idolatry, the central sin in the Bible. Jesus liberates with his faithful witness to the point of death, a witness vindicated by resurrection. “Blood,” then, refers to Jesus’s way of life and its consequences. To mention “blood” here is to emphasize that what matters about Jesus’s blood is that it liberates his comrades. Revelation will emphasize that “blood” is central element in the healing work of the Lamb—“blood” as a way of life and as the model for his followers.

Those who are liberated by the Lamb have a vocation, to “keep what is written” in this book. This is a hugely important statement to have at the beginning of the book. A key element of Revelation that has been minimized by many is its call to discipleship. The followers of Jesus, his “comrades,” play a crucial role in the drama of the story. Revelation is not mainly concerned with some kind of cosmic battle between God and the Powers of evil (the Dragon and Beast) where human beings mainly simply watch, letting the honchos battle it out. Actually, Revelation is not even concerned with a battle between God and the Dragon; ultimately there is no battle, only what we could call a mop-up operation. The outcome is already settled, and the Powers of evil have little power except that which is given them by people fooled by their deceit. And Revelation genuinely has high expectations of human participation in the drama. “Keep what is written” means for John’s readers “follow the Lamb wherever he goes” (14:4) and know that your faithfulness actually has played and continues to play a major role in sustaining the victory over the Dragon as we will see in chapter 12 and again in chapters 17 and 18.

John’s blessing to his readers is given in the names the One “who is and who was and who is to come” (that is, God), and “the seven spirits who are before the One’s throne”, and “Jesus Christ.” This is what later in Christian history came to be affirmed as a Trinitarian confession. As we will see, Revelation has what we could call a “high christology” with a close identification between Jesus and God (the concept of the Holy Spirit, signified as “the seven spirits,” is not developed much but we should recognize the allusion). For our purposes, though, the key point is the link between the One and the Lamb. This does exalt the Lamb, certainly, but I think it is more important to recognize how this confession, we could say, “lowers” God. By holding the One and the Lamb together, John emphasizes that the Lamb conveys the most profound meanings as to the character and intent of the One.

The final part of this passage to mention is the pattern of Jesus, a threefold description of the key figure in Revelation at 1:5: “The faithful witness, the firstborn of the death, and the ruler of the kings of the earth.” First of all, Jesus is “the faithful witness,” the one who showed God to the world in his life and teaching—and who suffered and was executed by the Roman Empire as a consequence. The Greek word that is translated “witness” is the same word, martys, that is also translated more literally as “martyr.” “Witness” is the right translation here because what is in mind is the entirety of Jesus’s life and teaching, not just his death. But it is a crucial part of the meaning of that life and teaching to recognize that it led to his death. As Jesus himself called his followers to imitate his life and join in the consequences of living such a life (“take up your cross and follow me”), so in Revelation the teaching of the importance of the “blood” of Jesus and of his comrades is a call to faithful living in resistance to the injustices and idolatries of the Empire.

Then, Revelation emphasizes that God vindicated Jesus’s faithful witness to the point of death. Jesus’s identity as “firstborn of the dead” means he’s the one who conquers due to God’s raising him from the dead. And, as implied with the term “firstborn,” this vindication applies to Jesus’s comrades as well. To link “faithful witness” with “firstborn of the dead” is to affirm that truth is on the side of the Lamb—not on the side of the so-called “eternal Empire” of Rome. The Empire was powerful enough to execute Jesus but not powerful enough to keep God from raising him from the dead. Faithfulness to the Lamb’s way goes with the grain of the universe. It is part of the work God does to bring healing and help creation to fulfill its life-full purpose.

Third, John affirms Jesus as “ruler of the kings of the earth”—a title that seems complicated, paradoxical, and even mysterious. We will need to work through the rest of the book to be able to have a clear sense of what John has in mind. But this crucial affirmation is key to our awareness of the profundity and relevance of the message of the book of Revelation. The martyr is ruler! How can that be? Are we to make high-level claims for the politics of the Lamb? Let’s be attentive to a crucial theme as we go through Revelation. The term “kings of the earth” seems to have a specific meaning. These are the leaders among human beings who are most closely affiliated with the Powers of evil. They lead human rebellion against God and against the Lamb. And yet, amazingly, in the end they find healing and are present in New Jerusalem. How can this be? That is one of the big questions about Revelation.

The power of weakness and the weakness of power (2:1–3:20)

The first vision in Revelation actually begins at 1:10 and continues through 3:20. The first part of this vision is a difficult to understand set of images of Jesus—as the one who is present in the seven congregations as a critical judge. One of the images here is especially important. The sword that is in Jesus’s mouth in 1:16 is the only weapon he wields in the entire book. When we get to chapter 19, we will see how important it is. But what we should realize right away and be on the lookout for throughout the book is that it signifies Jesus’s teaching and proclamation. The sword is the word of God. And throughout the book, we have various other images as well of the importance of words—in fact, I suggest we think of the “war” in Revelation most of all as a war of words. The proclamation of the Empire and the counter-proclamation of the Lamb. Notice how often we see words and other things coming out of the characters’ mouths—both the Dragon’s messages and the Lamb’s messages.

The seven messages in chapters two and three are crucial in that they keep what follows anchored on the ground, in real life, focused on concrete issues. We may see numerous direct links between the messages and later visions, but even more we see a thematic continuity. The visions do actually address the concerns expressed in the message that emerge from the lives of those congregations. As anchored in real life in its origin, Revelation speaks to real life for us.

Each of the messages follows the same basic outline, making it easy to compare them. They each are addressed to “the angel” of the congregation is a specific city (I like Walter Wink’s idea that these angels may best be understood as the spirit or collective personality of the congregation); in each case, the message is said to be the words of Jesus, using images from chapter one of Jesus walking among the seven congregations—emphasizing Jesus’s critical presence with the congregations and that he holds them accountable; each congregation is evaluated—positives and negatives (though it is enormously significant that two exemplary congregations are offered no negative criticisms); each is called to “conquer,” that is, to take up their cross and follow Jesus; and each is offered a promise should they remain faithful—most of the promises are alluded to later in the book, emphasizing the connection between the messages and the other visions that follow, especially the healing conclusion in New Jerusalem.

The two congregations that are not criticized offer exemplary models. These two messages offer only praise—to the congregations at Philadelphia and Smyrna. Both groups are small and relatively powerless. Both experience persecution and suffering. At the same time, both seem quite clear about what matters the most: Sharing in the pattern of Jesus, faithful witness and trusting in God’s vindication.

The overriding theme of the messages has to do with how the congregations relate to their surrounding cultures. How do they relate to Rome and its demands that everyone give the Empire their ultimate loyalty? The issues of conflict and critique may seem at first to be religious —heresy, false worship, personal immorality. But these all need to be understood in relation to navigating life in the Empire. Each of the seven cities that are referred to hosted some sort of center for Empire religion, places that directly challenged the Christian conviction that God alone deserved their ultimate loyalty. Many in the congregations thought it possible to divide their loyalty—worship God and Empire at the same time. These are the people the messages have in mind when they use terms such as Nicolaitans, Jezebel, and Balaam, and when they refer to the synagogue of Satan. Revelation is very rigorous in insisting it is God or Empire.

What the Empire offered Christians in these cities was comfort, security, and prosperity. Go along with the public festivals that praised the Empire and doors were opened for economic advancement and safety from persecution. Stay away from the festivals and insist that to partake would violate God’s call for single-minded loyalty to Jesus and his way, and you will likely suffer major consequences. Most of the congregations contained people who did want to conform. The two that didn’t (Philadelphia and Smyrna) were poor, small, and full of suffering. John seeks to challenge his readers’ imagination, that they would see Philadelphia and Smyrna as victorious and those who went along with the Empire as in great jeopardy.

The several allusions to Satan need to be understood in light of what comes later in the book. We are told in chapter 12 that Satan is another name for the Dragon. This figure is the great deceiver who seduces people (including many Christians) to give their loyalty to the Empire instead of God. So, when we read of the “synagogue of Satan,” we are not reading an early anti-Jewish slander. Rather, we are reading about the appeal of the various worship centers in each city that hosted the public festivals that praised the Empire and provided the opportunity for the Empire to single out those who did not participate. The “deep things of Satan” are not likely to be heretical Christian theology, perhaps an early form of Gnosticism. Much likely the “deep things of Satan” allude to emperor worship and the divine claims of the Empire.

Each message concludes with a call to the people in the congregations to “conquer.” This word has great significance in Revelation. The book understands reality in conflictual terms. Its readers live amidst a major struggle—a lot is at stake in how they live. Later we will encounter the term the “war of the Lamb.” To conquer means to resist the lure of the Empire, to be part of the triumph of the Lamb and the defeat of the Dragon. We need to be clear, though. Revelation will make it clear that there is only one way to conquer—with the weapons of the spirit, the path of love and compassion. Follow the Lamb wherever he goes. So, the call to conquer is a call to a life of Jesus-like resistance to the domination system. Such resistance means to say no to injustice and violence to the point of suffering and even death. As well, this seven-times repeated call to conquer gives a clear and strong endorsement of the value of human faithfulness to the healing work the One on the throne and the Lamb. As they bring in New Jerusalem and transform the earth, the comrades’ conquering is quite important.

Finally, in each message we read of rewards offered to the conquerors. The rewards point to the ultimate agenda of Revelation, to heal all creation. Those rewarded will share in God’s paradise. These images point to the importance of the role of the human beings in the work and victory of God. The final message, to the Laodicean congregation, summarizes the vision of the messages. Laodicea is the most problematic, least alive of the seven congregations; it is the most self-deceived and, it appears, the most thoroughly accommodated to the Roman world. There is nothing there that Jesus sees as worth commending. However, this message conveys hope. Nonetheless, healing is possible. I think we can see this word of hope as a word to the Empire itself and, I’d suggest to our empire. Jesus does love even the Laodiceans (and, by implication, even the Romans, even the kings of the earth). As such, he remains available to heal anytime there is repentance, any time there is turning to him, any time the door is opened. After Laodicea, the very next image is of an open door—opening to the most important vision in the entire book.

Seeing God in light of the Lamb (4:1–5:14)

When John enters the open door (4:1), the dynamics of the book change. We move from the concreteness of the seven messages to the visionary dimension. However, the actual message remains the same. What John will see from now on reiterates the challenges the messages give and seeks to empower the conquering the messages call for—conquering as faithful living in the midst of the idolatrous Roman Empire. The first vision inside the open door takes up all of chapters four and five. What John sees here is a worship service with a beginning in chapter four, a middle described in 5:1-7, and a conclusion that runs from 5:8 to the end of the chapter. This worship service begins with worship from the 24 elders and then the four living creatures. Then, it concludes with worship from the same four living creatures and the 24 elders. What is crucial is what happens in between and how what happens in between changes the object of the worship.

Let’s pause, though, to think a bit about what John sees first inside the open door. “There in heaven stood a throne, with One seated on the throne” (4:2). This One, who is being worshiped, clearly is God. This phrase, “the One on the throne,” is used throughout Revelation of God. The picture here of the throne and all its accoutrements bears a strong resemblance to accounts of the worship of the Rome and its emperor. Revelation clearly means to emphasize the parallel to present two contrasting and mutually exclusive notions of the Divine. We have just seen the challenges of the seven messages to the readers to choose which path they would follow; this very next vision underscores that indeed they do have to make a choice. The One on the throne, the God of Jesus, makes the same kind of claims for power and dominion as does the Roman divinity. The rest of chapter four continues with a sense of parallelism—the One on the throne is quite like the Roman divine throne holder.

The middle part of the vision beginning at 5:1, though, throws down the gauntlet, we could say, and brings to the center of the stage the fundamental difference between these two notions of divinity. The story here, while quite brief, is intensely dramatic. The One on the throne has a scroll in its right hand. We sense that this scroll is the key to the big story, the outcome of history, the hopes and validation of the truth claims the One on the throne might make. The scroll is sealed shut. It appears that the scroll must be opened to resolve the question of whose truth actually corresponds to the way the universe is. Someone who is worthy must be found to open the scroll. And at first John reports that no one has been found. This breaks his heart, so profound is his longing for the scroll to be opened. “I began to weep bitterly.”

“Hold it!” one of the elders assures John. Do not despair, the worthy one has been found. This scroll opener is described to John in terms of some kind of powerful king, in line with expectations many Jews had for a mighty warrior type of Messiah: “Lion of the tribe of Judah and the Root of David.” These are the words John hears. I think in the context of the rest of Revelation and the broader New Testament, we can see that these words have a strong rhetorical effect that sets up what follows and helps us see how radical the story actually is.

John hears “mighty king,” and we definitely need to understand that indeed the scroll opener is a mighty king. We will learn that this king will conquer the Dragon and transform creation. However, what John sees will convey the true character of the king and the true means of conquering—and the rest of Revelation will expand on the point made here. John sees “a Lamb standing as if it had been slaughtered” (5:6). We know what this means: The executed and resurrected Jesus. Power in weakness. The Lamb conquers by means of self-giving love that is practiced in resolute resistance to the domination system of the Roman Empire. Now, this “weak” king is, to be sure, extraordinarily powerful. The bizarre imagery of the Lamb “having seven horns and seven eyes” emphasizes the genuine power he embodies. The power to open the scroll, and—as we now see—the power to gain for him the worship of all creation.

It is crucial to recognize the present tenses throughout this vision. The Lamb is victorious. The victory was won in Jesus’s historical life, death, and resurrection. The present tenses should determine how we read the rest of Revelation. There is no actual further battle. The struggle to come is not a struggle between the One on the throne and the Lamb on the one side and the Dragon and Beast on the other side as equally powerful opponents. When Jesus refused Satan’s temptations in the wilderness and then remained true to his identity as God’s Son, walked faithfully all the way to the cross, and gained vindication when God raised him from the dead, the cosmic struggle was ended. The struggle that remains, the struggle Revelation cares about, is the struggle that the followers of the Lamb, his “comrades,” will have to remain committed to the Lamb, even in face of the Powers of Empire and Wealth and Worldly Status.

I want to point to two remarkable aspects of the last part of the worship service. First, the risen Lamb takes the scroll from the One on the throne and is immediately worshiped by the 24 elders, the same group who had worshiped the One on the throne. But then the worship spreads to countless angels. Then, “every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea” sings praise to the Lamb. This image tells us that the way of Jesus, the truthfulness of his message and how he conquers, goes with the grain of the universe. The entire creation is in harmony with what we see in Jesus. This universal worship by creation itself underscores that the story Revelation has to tell is a story of the healing of the natural world, not its destruction. However we might understand the admittedly difficult visions to come, we must always come back to this worship—God’s work is healing, and healing for all of creation.

The second remarkable aspect of the vision here is the exalting of the Lamb. The worship begins with the One on the throne being praised and ends with the same “congregation,” as it were, praising the Lamb. We begin and end the service with the same action—but with a key change. Now the Lamb is also in the center. This change underscores just how important the victory of the Lamb is. Right after the Lamb takes the scroll, the four living creatures and the 24 elders fall before the Lamb (5:8) the same way they fall before the One on the throne (4:10). When every creature sings “to the One seated on the throne and to the Lamb,” the elders and living creatures conclude the service with an enthusiastic “Amen!” (5:14). We couldn’t have a stronger statement of Jesus’s divinity than what we have here—but I think it’s crucial to see that the point is not to lift Jesus us as the Almighty, all-controlling Other God. To the contrary, the point is to emphasis that God is most clearly seen in the profoundly present and vulnerable Lamb. God, and the Lamb, conquer not with coercive power but with love. It is what we could call a high/low christology: when we see Jesus, we see God, as self-giving love and compassion.

Worship remains a central element of the visions throughout the rest of the book. I think the meaning of worship in Revelation is actually a bit complicated. I don’t think the idea is that our sense of Sunday morning worship is what Revelation shows. Worship is more about loyalty and commitment and embodied faithfulness than about showing up on Sunday and singing hymns, listening to sermons, and having public prayers. These modern-day practices can empower the kind of worship Revelation has in mind—they must, in fact, or they will be like the worship in the book of Amos that is actually idolatry. Note the confession of the living creatures and elders at 5:10: “You (the Lamb) have made [your saints, or comrades] to be a kingdom and priests serving our God, and they will reign on earth.” This is what the worship signifies—comrades of Jesus who refuse to worship or give loyalty to or trust in nation-states or material wealth or exclusive “communities.” Instead, they embrace those from “every tribe and language and people and nation” as their comrades, placing the love of neighbor as their highest calling.

[I offer a much more extensive exposition of this fascinating, challenging, and ultimately encouraging biblical text in my recent book, To Follow the Lamb: A Peaceable Reading of the Book of Revelation.]