Ted Grimsrud—August 9, 2023
[This is the third in a series of four posts on the book of Revelation. The first is “Reading Revelation with an Anabaptist Sensibility.” The second is “The pattern of Jesus (Revelation, chapters 1–5).” The fourth is “Vindication (Revelation, chapters 17–22).”]
In this post, I will focus on three passages from the middle section of Revelation, starting with the seal plagues in chapter six. Then, I will talk about how chapters 10,11, and 12 provide a counter-testimony to the plagues, a picture of how God actually does gain repentance. And third, I want to spend a bit of time looking at the famous vision of the Beast in chapter 13 and point out that that vision also includes the first part of chapter 14 and ends up being another version of the story about the Lamb’s victory.
I want to take just a second first, though, for a word about an approach to Revelation that is quite different from my approach. When I first became a Christian, I was taught to read Revelation as a book of prophecies about the future. The term “dispensationalism” describes the view that human history has been divided, by God, into seven distinct era or dispensations. We are currently in the fifth of the seven and may look ahead to the sixth (the millennium—by seeing the millennium in the future, dispensationalism has also been called “premillennialism”). The seventh dispensation will be the new heaven and new earth. As I learned more about this approach, I decided that I could not affirm it. I came to see Revelation as not being concerned with future prophecy (“foretelling,” we could say) but rather speaking to its present (“forthtelling”) and, like the rest of the Bible, by speaking to its present speaking to our present. Mennonites have long debated about this. I won’t say more about this view except that, again, I think Revelation is about the present world we live in and is most of all concerned with encouraging the following of Jesus in this life, not with what will happen in the future.
The patterns of human history (6:1–7:17)
So, let’s turn to Revelation 6. We note right away the vision of the Lamb breaking the seals in the chapter—an act that leads directly to the riding forth of the fabled “four horsemen of the Apocalypse,” bringing with them plagues of war, famine, and sickness. This comes as a shock given what we see in Rev 1–5, the Lamb’s peace witness. Let’s think carefully here.
We need to keep Revelation’s master vision, chapters 4–5 in mind as we turn to the rest of the book. The final vision of the book, New Jerusalem in chapters 21 and 22 brings a vision of the final healing. That is where the entire book is heading. But in between these two visions, we have others that offer what appear to be quite mixed messages about healing and judgment. First, we have the Lamb breaking the seals of the scroll. This is the scroll the Lamb was given by the One on the throne in chapter 5 that only he is worthy to open—and we should all want the scroll opened So, what’s going on? Note, first, that all the Lamb does is break the seals. The events that follow are not the contents of the scroll. The plagues are not the contents of the scroll; they simply accompany the seals to the scroll being broken. It would seem that, in some sense, to move toward the final healing (which surely is the actual content of the scroll) will involve going through these plagues.
This is the first of three series of seven plagues (the others come in chapters 8-9 and 15-16). I don’t actually think they are particularly important to the story Revelation tells. What are more important are the various visions of worship that occur right along with the plagues. I also don’t think the plagues should be understood chronologically as in one set of plagues that will happen in some literal sense in history and then be followed by the second and then by the third. Rather, I think their growing intensity (from 1/4 destruction with the seal plagues to 1/3 destruction with the trumpet plagues to total destruction with the bowl plagues) conveys John’s growing sense of urgency. It’s like he builds up to the conclusion of his set of visions: He challenges his readers to give their loyalty to the Lamb and not the Dragon and Beast. That will be the climax to his argument in the book of Revelation.
Let me simply assert without explanation that I believe these plague visions are meant to portray human history as it always has been and always will be until the healing of creation is completed. It is not perfectly clear in Revelation, but I believe we do have good reasons to understand the various terrible destructions pictured in the plagues not as acts of God, not as God’s judgment on rebellious creation. Rather, I understand references in chapter 12 to the Dragon making war on the comrades of the Lamb to be telling us that the plagues are the acts of the evil Powers, the Dragon and the Beast and the False Prophet.
At the same time, it is the Lamb who breaks the seals and gets the ball rolling in the visions. Later, in the other two plague series, angels blow the trumpets and pour out the bowls. I think we should see that God is somehow involved in these events. But not as the causative agent. The idea, rather, is that even these terrible events in human history that the Powers of evil inflict on the world do not defeat God’s purposes. God’s healing work is present and active amidst the plagues. In the brokenness of human history that we see so clearly in our past and present we may also see God’s healing love at work. By engaging the world most fundamentally as the power of love, God does not control events and does not stop evil things from happening. But God does offer healing and hope and compassion. God offers suffering-with.
Let’s note the fifth seal plague, 6:9-11. One element of the plagues is the “slaughter” of the Lamb’s comrades. They cry out, as we can imagine. But what do they want? Revenge? Perhaps it could better be seen as vindication (a quite valid translation of the Greek word ekdikeis—note the common root, “dic”/ “dik”). We need to see this moment in light of the rest of the book. The martyrs are given white robes here. These robes provide a key image elsewhere in Revelation, usually in relation to comrades of the Lamb. They are told to wait. The process of bloodletting will continue. These points will take on great meaning later in the book—the blood is the key to the victory of the Lamb and ultimate healing (which will be the vindication).
Then we have another difficult image: The wrath of the Lamb (6:16). In Revelation, wrath is a more subtle and complicated motif than simply anger or rage. We are challenged to think: How do wrath and Lamb go together. As I read it, wrath refers mainly to the processes of history where people over time tend to reap the consequences of their choices and hurtful actions. One aspect of God’s providence (God’s subtle care) is that, we could say, “time wounds all heels.” This is the way to think of God’s love engaging evil. Not by compounding the evil with coercive punishment but by patiently allowing the dynamics of history to play out. Later we will read of the “cup of wrath” being what actually takes down Babylon, the city of the Dragon and the Beast (chapters 17 and 18). And this “cup of wrath” turns out to be, precisely, the blood mentioned in 6:9-11. That is, the vindication is that, as chapter 12 will state, the comrades defeat the Dragon by the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony.
I wish I had more time to spend on the wonderful vision in chapter 7. At the end of chapter 6, the inhabitants of the earth cry out: “Who can stand” in face of the wrath of God and the Lamb. Well, we learn that the Lamb’s followers stand (7:9). Too often, Revelation is read as if the key elements of the story are the plague visions with a few worship scenes thrown in mainly to lighten the mood a bit. The opposite is actually the case. The worship visions are the core message. We see that here when the plagues of chapter 6 are immediately followed by the powerful vision of massive healing in chapter 7. “There was a great multitude that no one could count … standing before the throne and before the Lamb” (7:9). “They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb” (7:14).
How God gains repentance (11:1–12:19)
It is important to recognize that whatever else might be going on with the plague visions, they do not represent a serious effort by God to gain human repentance. When the second plague series (the trumpets) ends by reporting that “the rest of humankind, who were not killed by these plagues, did not repent” (9:20), we could conclude that the purpose of the plagues (assuming they were from God) was to bring people to repentance, to turn them toward God. With a little thought, though, I think we could actually conclude that such an approach by God would be monstrous—and wouldn’t even work. I can’t imagine thinking, oh, I will trust in God since God is so punitive and violent. The story actually does tell us something very different. God takes a very different approach to trying to get people to repent, one that is fully consistent with the way of the Lamb.
What we do see in the plague visions is that as human history careens down its painful and chaotic path, as human beings live with uncertainty and trauma, they tend to turn toward idols—nation states, wealth, social status. However, while at times John’s tone in Revelation tends toward disgust toward such tendencies, the overall message of the book helps us see such moves as understandable—but also deeply problematic and self-destructive. Turning toward idols actually only makes things worse. We become like that which we worship.
The way the gospel responds to this difficult dynamic is sketched in chapters 10–12. The first step is a break in the spiral of ever-worsening plague visions. In chapter 10, John sees another mighty angel, whose loud shouts lead to the sounding of seven thunders. It appears we will hear about another whole set of devastating plagues, almost certainly even worse that what has come up to now. However, instead we have a surprise. A voice from heaven speaks: “Seal up what the seven thunders have said, and do not write it down” (10:4). The spiral is interrupted. The actual approach that God takes to encourage repentance is now going to be shown. The downward dynamic of plagues and idolatry and brokenness is going to be redirected in the story.
This mighty angel actually resembles Jesus in some important ways. There is a rainbow, echoing the vision of God’s healing commitments. The angel, like Jesus as described in chapter one, has a face like the sun and legs like pillars of fire. Like the Lamb, he holds a scroll—and roars like a lion (remember the imagery of the Lion of Judah actually being the Lamb in chapter 5). The angel is not the Lamb, but he seems closely allied. Then John himself enters the story, being told to eat the scroll. This identifies John with the great prophet Ezekiel, who did the same thing. Then John is told to prophesy again. And he does, telling a different kind of story.
Chapter 11 gives one version of this different story. It tells of two witnesses who prophesy against the nations for 1,260 days. Fire pours from their mouths, and they exercise authority until they finish their testimony. Then they are conquered by the Beast from the bottomless pit and killed. But then they are raised by God, and—in contrast to the conclusion of the plagues in chapter 9—here 90% of the people do repent and give glory to God.
This chapter is filled with symbolism, and we don’t have time to unpack it. I’ll just say, in brief, that the two witnesses represent faith communities who offer the word of their testimony. Fire from their mouths: the proclamation of the gospel. This is analogous to the sword that comes from Jesus’s mouth. They give their lives for the sake of this witness; they are vindicated by God; and they succeed in turning people to God by following the way of Jesus. The seventh trumpet finally sounds marking the end of the story; the victory of God arrives. But Revelation is far from over because elements of the story need to be retold with more details. These details will focus on the processes that destroy the destroyers of the earth (11:18). Sketching the destruction of the destroyers will be a major theme in the second half of Revelation. These chapters will add more clarity about the dynamics of idolatry and the dangers that John’s readers face.
The 12th chapter more or less tells the same story as the 11th, with different symbolism and the introduction of an important new character—whose presence helps us make sense of what has happened up to now. We meet a woman who to some degree, like the two witnesses, symbolizes the faith communities—though the image is more multifaceted. We also meet “a great red Dragon” (12:3), who we will be told later in the chapter is Satan himself (12:9). This Dragon is dangerous and powerful and hateful. That the Dragon wages war against the woman and her children (12:15-17) tells me that the Dragon indeed is the immediate author of the plagues. That the dragon’s “warfare” is linked with the Dragon’s pouring water from his mouth (12:15) points to the centrality of the words of deception that the Powers of evil use to gain people’s loyalty—a theme throughout Revelation.
A key symbol here is that of 1,260 days which is also 42 months and 3 ½ years. This is “broken time”—half of the symbol of wholeness, that is seven. I believe the 3 ½ years actually refers to all of human history prior to the final healing. The time of “tribulation” and the time of the plagues is not some limited time in the future, but it is all of time, the whole of human history. This means that the work of the witnesses and the women’s children—as well as the moments of worship—are for all of time.
We must note that the Dragon, powerful and destructive as he may be, is defeated here. There is no future battle, no coming Armageddon, no victory beyond the victory won by Jesus and embodied by his comrades. We have a powerful statement of this in chapter 12 in the context of a moment of praise for the victory: “The accuser of our comrades has been thrown down…. They have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony, for they did not cling to life even in the face of death” (12:10-11). This restates the work of the two witnesses in chapter 11. The comrades play a central role in the drama—their job is to follow Jesus and resist the evil Powers using only the weapons of the Spirit: love, compassion, solidarity, courage, wisdom, and truth-telling.
Jesus vs. the Beast (13:1–14:20)
I suggested when I wrote about Revelation 4–5 that it is important to recognize that the cosmic battle before God and the Dragon is already over. The Lamb’s victory determined the outcome of the story. The struggle that remains, the “Lamb’s war,” as it were, is the struggle followers of the Lamb have with their loyalties—as we see in chapters 13 and 14: loyalty to the Beast or loyalty to the Lamb?
The Dragon’s war against the woman’s children at the end of chapter 12 has to do with the plagues that characterize human history. A key aspect is the role of the Beast—who is directly linked with the Dragon (13:2). This is another version of what we have already seen with a focus on the lure of the Beast (symbolizing the Roman Empire, in large part). The “blasphemous names” that are used of the Beast probably are simply the same names that we have seen given to the Lamb and the One on the throne: “lord,” “king,” “savior.” Thus, the names themselves are not in themselves blasphemous but what is blasphemous is who the names are used for. The issue is: who is Lord? To whom do we give loyalty?
The key issue here is perception. Who is like the Beast and who can fight against it? The sense the text gives is that no one can resist the Beast. The Beast is seen to be almighty, with unstoppable authority. But we know this isn’t true. The Lamb is victorious. We see at the end of this same vision, at 14:1-5, that indeed the Lamb and his 144,000 can fight against the Beast—and conquer it. When we read that the Beast was given all this power, we need to recognize that this power is most decidedly not from God—nor is it actually very powerful. We need to read on to realize the true power in the story is the Power of the Lamb. The Beast’s power, like the Dragon’s power it is grounded in, is simply the power of deception. By giving the evil Powers their consent, humans make them powerful. This is ever the case with oppressive empires and nation-states. One of Gandhi’s great insights was that the power of the British Empire in India was power based on consent given by the people. Help the people to see that they can withhold that consent, show them actually how this is done, and the Empire will fall.
Another important, and familiar, number comes up here. The Beast will “exercise authority” for 42 months (13:5)—or, again, our symbol of 3½ years. That is, our symbol for the length of human history. That is, the period allotted for the plagues. The point here is the same as the earlier references. It’s not a fatalistic statement that we are stuck for the rest of history to be dominated by the Beast. Rather, it is an encouragement. The way of the Lamb, victorious over the evil Powers, remains the norm and remains necessary. And we must remember, John means to portray this period of time as joyous for the followers of the Lamb. That is the point of the worship visions that are—I want to argue—the central meaning of the visions overall, more so than the plagues. Remember that the Beast and Dragon have lost.
This vision of the Beast in chapter 13, and the various plague visions, raise some complicated questions. How can it be that we at the same time have the reality of the plagues and the Beast’s exercising of authority on the one hand, and also have the vision of the Lamb’s victory and the various worship visions that proclaim that victory as already present? Is John speaking out of both sides of his mouth? Or presenting an irresolvable paradox? Or, as I would like to believe, is John actually presenting some quite subtle and sophisticated theology about power and love?
The complicated reality presented in these visions has to do with the character of God’s power and with the method the Lamb uses to conquer. It’s all about love—which means that it’s not controlling and it’s not coercive. Revelation is ultimately very clear that the plagues and the Beast don’t define reality and don’t have the last word. But the process of love bringing about healing means that it takes time, it is accompanied by suffering, and it is all so often hidden and only partial. The imagination John hopes to nurture sees how love wins even in face of trauma and brokenness.
The second Beast, later named as the False Prophet in chapters 16, 19, 20, symbolizes the role of propaganda minister. Since the power of the Beast is the power given to him by those who give their loyalty to him, we could say that the False Prophet works to manufacture consent. He provides a story about what matters and what is powerful and where security is to be found. The Beast’s story is actually, though, made up of empty rhetoric. The Pax Romana (“peace of Rome” in John’s time) was order based on injustice and violence—just as the peace of all empires, all nation-states seems to be. It is violence disguised as peace, insecurity disguised as security, weakness disguised as power.
Let me add a quick note on a famous reference in the False Prophet material. The number of the Beast is 666. I think this is a very minor point and a simple symbol. The number 7 is the number of wholeness, 6 is a number that falls short of wholeness. To have three sixes simply emphasizes the reality of the Beast—not a great Being worthy of loyalty but simply a human, non-godly number. So, don’t believe the Beast’s lies.
We need to recognize that the three references to “I saw” here (13:1 of the Beast, 13:11 of the second Beast, later identified as the False Prophet, and 14:1 of the Lamb) tell a single story. The English Bible’s artificial chapter division between 13 and 14 weakens the impact of how the vision of the Lamb completes the vision of the Beast. The vision is not of the Beast’s unmatchable power, but it is a vision of the Lamb’s victory. The victorious Lamb is joined by a mighty army of his comrades—144,000 strong we are told. The army is actually much larger than that.
The number 144,000 was explained in chapter 7. There, John hears 12,000 soldiers from each of the “twelve tribes,” a total of 144,000, a mustered army of the Lamb’s comrades. But what John actually sees is an uncountable multitude. Both images refer to the people of God. It is a mustered army of the Lamb’s comrades. But so great is the Lamb’s victory that this army draws from every tribe and people and language and nation (the saints who praise the Lamb in chapter 5). And it is such a great army that the numbers cannot be counted. This is an extreme statement of the reality that human history is about God’s victory.
Back to chapter 14, the 144,000 here is the same uncountable multitude, not a limited number. We have an army ready for battle. This hints at something to come—but it is also clear, as we will discover when we get to chapter 19, that the battle is over. We know this already, of course. That was the message of the vision of the Lamb in chapter 5.
One last comment. The vision at the end of chapter 14 is difficult, the grape harvest leading to an unimaginable amount of blood. I suggest that we see that image in light of the “battle” the 144,000 enter into (14:1-5) and link it back to the earlier mention of the 144,000 in chapter 7. The 144,000 are a countless multitude who have washed their robes white in the blood of the Lamb. So, the huge flood of blood in 14:17-20 is a vivid, even gruesome, image that conveys the message that the victory is due to the witness of Jesus and his comrades—a victory that is huge and encompasses an uncountable multitude “from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages” (7:9; see also 5:6-14).
It is crucial to note that 14:17-20 does not say where this blood up to the horse’s bridle comes from. Reading this vision in the context of the rest of the book gives strong support to the conclusion that the blood in 14:17-20 is the same blood that takes down Babylon in chapters 17 and 18 which is the same blood that conquers the Dragon according to 12:11. This is the blood of the Lamb and the Lamb’s followers. This blood, like the blood in chapters 17 and 18 and as echoed in the vision of 19:11-21, is linked with the “winepress of God’s wrath.” I propose we recognize the “wrath” here as the processes of history where evil gets its due in time. Thus, we may conclude that throughout Revelation tells us that Jesus’s life, death, and resurrection (his “blood”) are the factors that define God’s healing intervention in history—and these factors provide the model and empowerment for Jesus’s comrades to live faithfully.
[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.]
‘One aspect of God’s providence (God’s subtle care) is that, we could say, “time wounds all heals.”’
Did you mean to write “time heals all wounds”, Ted?
(By the way, these are great posts, the previous commenter’s screeds notwithstanding.)
Thanks for the heads up, Rob. Actually, though, I did mean to write what I wrote. It was an attempt at subtle humor. I like to turn truisms around—another would be to say “praising with faint damns.” My point here is to suggest that God’s providence may be understood to be present when people, over time, do reap the negative consequences of their misdeeds. I changed the “heals” in “time heals all wounds” to “heels” in “time wounds all heels”—”heels” = “bad guys.”
Thanks for clarifying. I was caught between not thinking you would have made that kind of error on the one hand and not being able to quite make sense of what you intended to convey on the other.