And I saw in the right hand of him that sat on the throne a book written within and on the backside, sealed with seven seals. And I saw a strong angel proclaiming with a loud voice, Who is worthy to open the book, and to loose the seals thereof? And no man in heaven, nor in earth, neither under the earth, was able to open the book, neither to look thereon. And I wept much, because no man was found worthy to open and to read the book, neither to look thereon. And one of the elders saith unto me, Weep not: behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, hath prevailed to open the book, and to loose the seven seals thereof. And I beheld, and, lo, in the midst of the throne and of the four beasts, and in the midst of the elders, stood a Lamb as it had been slain, having seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven Spirits of God sent forth into all the earth. And he came and took the book out of the right hand of him that sat upon the throne. And when he had taken the book, the four beasts and four and twenty elders fell down before the Lamb, having every one of them harps, and golden vials full of odours, which are the prayers of saints. And they sung a new song, saying, Thou art worthy to take the book, and to open the seals thereof: for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation; and hast made us unto our God kings and priests: and we shall reign on the earth. And I beheld, and I heard the voice of many angels round about the throne and the beasts and the elders: and the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands; saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing. And every creature which is in heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth, and such as are in the sea, and all that are in them, heard I saying, Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever. And the four beasts said, Amen. And the four and twenty elders fell down and worshipped him that liveth for ever and ever.—Rev. v.
For awhile St. John might be glad to forget all that he had witnessed of strife and turbulence, in that vision of peace and order. For he knew it was real. That which was shifting and changeable might be fantastic; this could not be. It was the substance which was implied in those vicissitudes. It derived nothing from the mind of the beholder, it imparted steadfastness to his mind. The revelation of a throne upon which sat One in whom was light and no darkness, justice and no caprice, of forms which reflected that light, of rulers who executed that justice, must have been very calming to the spirit of a seer, who had a little before been contemplating the unsteady flickerings of those candlesticks which had been set upon the earth, the imperfect government of those angels who were exhibiting something of the Divine righteousness. But if the prophet could forget the earth in gazing upon heaven, these heavenly powers could not. He who sat on the throne could not. Were the thrones below to confess this throne; or to make a dominion of their own, independent of it, contrary to it? If they were to obey it, what was to produce the obedience? Could it be wrought by a decree? Could rebel wills yield to that?
I. “And I saw in the right hand of him that sat on the throne a book written within and on the backside, sealed with seven seals.” It signifies little what name we give to this book. We may call it the Doomsday Book; the book which contains and interprets human history; the book which claims the kingdoms of the earth for God. Each of these titles will justify itself as we proceed; the contents of the book will tell us better what it is than any anticipations of ours. What St. John cares that we should know at once, is that He who to look upon was like a jasper or a sardine stone, held it in His right hand. He knew what was in it. It was the expression of His purpose and will. The belief that there is such a book in such a hand has sustained the strongest, sternest minds among men; it has enabled them to endure the world’s despair and their own. Those who have spoken of an unbending, irresistible, irreversible fate, have had a sense of this truth, even when they have darkened it most. They have meant more than they could utter or than they knew. There has been a right hand in their terrible abstraction; a Divine will beneath that which has looked like a denial of all will. The stoical acquiescence in a mere necessity expands in the hymn of Cleanthes into the recognition of a Providence over the deeds and thoughts of men; passes even into the confession of a deliverer and a friend, in the meditations of Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius. But these wise men thought that the scroll could never be unrolled. To bear what was appointed them was their only wisdom. A deep wisdom, if it could be known what was appointed; if it could be known what He who appointed was doing, that men might not work as mere servants of a power to which they must yield, but as children of a Father who would train them to be like himself.
II. It was not the will of Him who sat on the throne, so St. John learned, that the book should be a closed one. “And I saw a strong angel proclaiming with a loud voice, Who is worthy to open the book, and to loose the seals thereof?” Oftentimes when there is an effort made by students upon earth to investigate the anomalies which they find around them, behind them, before them, we check them with a warning against their vanity and presumption. Who can look into the secrets of the All-wise; who can struggle with the Omnipotent? My friends! there may be a right meaning in such admonitions; I have confessed that there is. In a heathen teacher they should be accepted with gratitude as signs of an awe which he did not learn in an idol temple; though one would be sorry not to meet in him also with earnest cries for a solution of the riddle which he sometimes treats as insoluble. But we ought to ask ourselves seriously, whether it may not be an inspiration from above and not from beneath, which urges men to smite the bars of their prison, and to try whether there may be no hidden passage which leads out of it. That cry upon earth is the echo, so St. John says, of a voice in heaven. A strong angel bade his own fellows put forth their strength and see whether they could not break the seals.
III. “And no man in heaven, nor in earth, neither under the earth, was able to open the book, neither to look thereon.”
Many will complain of our translators for rendering οὐδείς “no man” when the scene is in heaven, and the persons spoken of are heavenly powers. It was an unnecessary and wilful outrage upon appearances which they would have been wiser to avoid. But I believe the mistake is by no means a serious one. We make a vast chasm between the angelic and the human natures; partly because the former is to us nearly fantastic; partly because we deduce our idea of the latter from the Fall. The writer of the Apocalypse, as I have observed already, often seems to confound them. The messenger of God, whether subject to death or free from it, is still to be denoted by a common name. It defines his character and function; whether he fulfils that character and function or not, he can have no higher, except it be that filial one which belongs to the beggar in rags, no less than to the seraphim. All depends upon the question, whom we take to be the head of every man—the first Adam or the second.
These remarks are needful for the illustration of the whole passage before us, even more than of the particular verse. Whatever may be the superiority of angelic powers to mortal—whatever exemption heavenly powers may enjoy from the calamities of earth—that superiority and that exemption did not qualify them to open this book and to look in it. The book of God must be read by some one who had a perfect apprehension of the mind of God. The book of the earth’s victory must be read by one who had a perfect apprehension of the earth’s conflict.
IV. “And I wept much, because no man was found worthy to open and to read the book, neither to look thereon.” I spoke of the peace which the revelation of that world of order must have imparted to the prophet. Thank God! such peace was not all that he wanted; if more was not given, it could not endure. The pity and tenderness, you will say, of the child of earth came forth in his weeping; rather, I would say, the pity and the tenderness of the child of God. He could not be content till he knew more of the destinies of his own race, because the Father of that race would not allow him to be content. The question whether justice and truth were to reign here, whether injustice and untruth were to be put down, concerned him, doubtless, most deeply. But he knew how much it concerned him when he held converse with those who are above the smoke of the earth, when the One who was to look upon like jasper and sardine stone was unveiled to him. Then it became intolerable pain, that no one should be worthy to open and read the book.
V. “And one of the elders saith unto me, Weep not: behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, hath prevailed to open the book, and to loose the seven seals thereof.” “The Lion of the tribe of Judah! the Root of David!” What a fall! A little while ago we were hearing of the heavenly world; of the throne, and the rainbow, and the sea of glass, and the seven lamps of fire, which are the seven Spirits of God. A great fall assuredly, if there is not a fellowship between heaven and earth. A great fall, if we associate spiritual power with the great and not with the little. No fall, if the very subject of this vision, and of this book, is the union of heaven and earth; the establishment of the dominion of heaven over the earth. No fall, if spiritual power is magnified through weakness; if its true manifestation is in the triumph over animal bulk and numerical vastness. The lion was of old the symbol of the tribe of Judah. That tribe, representing the nation to which it belonged, was raised up to show how one might chase a thousand, how two might put ten thousand to flight; because it possessed a secret of strength which Egyptian and Babylonian monarchs had not. David, the youngest son, the shepherd, the stripling, the outlaw, was the witness that God had set his King on the holy hill of Zion. What name so fit to express the spiritual conqueror, as the Lion of the tribe of Judah? What name more fit to indicate the true source and ground of all power than the Root of David? Those names belonged to all the early associations of the aged exile; they made him understand that he was never a truer Jew than when he was witnessing for the Prince of all the kings of the earth. They showed him by what Divine links the records of that people, which was about to be a people no longer, were connected with the deliverance of mankind.
VI. For who was the Lion of the tribe of Judah? Where lay that secret of the strength which belonged to no other in heaven or in earth?
“And I beheld, and, lo, in the midst of the throne, and of the four beasts, and in the midst of the elders, stood a Lamb as it had been slain, having seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven Spirits of God sent forth into all the earth.”
The Lion of the tribe of Judah is the Lamb that was slain. Here is that revelation of power perfected in weakness, manifested in submission, for which all the previous history of mankind had been a preparation. Here is that reconciliation of the highest with the lowest, of dominion with suffering, of life with death, which can alone explain the riddle of the universe, which can alone satisfy the infinite doubts by which men have been racked and are racked; yes, and must be, unless they close their eyes to facts, or sink into stolid indifference.
How shall that absolute purity and truth which is like a jasper or sardine stone be brought within the range of a creature’s contemplation? It may be worshipped at a distance, it may be seen in some of its outward exercises. But this is not enough for those who are created in the Divine image, for those who demand truth and purity themselves. “In the midst of the throne is the Lamb that was slain.” Purity and truth are not seen in some broken mirror; in divided forms; but fully, altogether. In that act of perfect self-sacrifice, of entire oblation, of surrender to death, all that angels are seeking for comes forth. It is not adapted or reduced to meet their needs or their feebleness; in meeting those needs and that feebleness, the full, unmeasured Divine perfection and glory appear; every veil which hid them is taken away. He is also “in the midst of the elders.” Those twenty-four seats whence go forth the righteous judgments upon voluntary beings, which direct the movements of natural agents:—these express that mind which is in the Lamb. Through all the universe the same principle of self-sacrifice, which is the law of His acts, is at work to govern and renew. “He is in the midst of the four living creatures.” The lion, the calf, the man, the eagle—the different forms of power which men had worshipped, had each its heavenly prototype; some aspect of the Divine nature was presented to each, and exhibited in each. But these creatures have here their centre; the Lamb which was slain makes each capable of its own function; makes each efficient to the end for which they are all working; binds them to that throne from which mortal idolatry severed them. “He has seven horns.” Those powers which, when they are divorced from self-sacrifice, are irregular and discordant, are harmonised in Him. Each has its own quality; none clashes with the other; there is no uniformity in their movements, but free and living unity. He has the “seven eyes, which are the seven Spirits of God sent forth into all the earth.” That sense of an eye over the greatest and the minutest events in the world’s history, which leads us to speak of Providence—a noble word if we allowed it to retain its signification, and did not turn it into a feeble substitute for the living Being who exercises it; that sense of an eye over the thoughts and intents of our hearts, which leads us to speak of a scrutiny and judgment that none may escape; have both their full justification here. Only the language of the Apocalypse is far clearer, brighter, more corresponding to the facts of our experience, than that which we are wont to use. We want an expression which shall tell us that each king and each man is subject to a distinct Providence, to a distinct judgment, and yet that it is the same for all and in all. We want an expression which shall denote that the eyes are not merely penetrating and scrutinising, but quickening; that if they bring the evil in us to light, they also discover and impart a good which can scatter it. “The seven eyes, which are the seven Spirits of God sent forth into all the earth” gives us such an expression; if we connect it, as the Apostle does, with Him whose they are; if we believe that the orderer of our lives, the searcher of our hearts, is the Lamb that was slain.
Here, then, is the New Testament revelation, answering to and fulfilling that Old Testament revelation of the Lion of Judah—which was to overthrow the destructive lion, the brute tyranny, of the world—of the Root of David, who was to set up a kingdom of righteousness instead of a kingdom of self-will. The discovery that the highest Godhead is manifested in self-sacrifice; that all power, angelic or human, has this ground; that all power which does not confess this ground is disorderly and rebellious, and doomed to perish; this is the gospel which the Cross of Christ preaches to mankind; it is this doctrine in its most transcendent and universal form, which this chapter of the Apocalypse brings before us.
VII. “And he came and took the book out of the right hand of him that sat on the throne.”
He is able to unroll the book of the Divine purposes; to break those seals which have made it unintelligible to men; to show what is to last in the universe, what to decay; to show what men may acquiesce and rest in; what they are to resist to the death. He is able to explain whether any hope that wise and brave men have ever cherished for the world is destined to disappointment; or whether they hoped too feebly, and the fruition is to be beyond the dream. Such is the prospect before us. The Apocalypse is to speak of all these things. If we will attend to its words and not put our own in place of them, I believe it will give us light and satisfaction upon all.
VIII. But before we advance let me lead you to think for a few moments upon the passage which is under our notice this afternoon. It may help, I think, to correct an opinion which is widely diffused in the Christian world, which must more or less infect us all, and which must be fatal to any of the lessons that the Revelation of St. John would teach us. The Lamb is said here to prevail to open the book of the Divine purposes. We often suppose that He prevailed by His sacrifice to alter those purposes. We often say that the Divine will, or justice, or purity, demanded something of man which he could not render; that he was doomed to destruction for that failure; that the Lamb interposed to avert this sentence; that He paid the creature’s debt; that so He satisfied the mind of Him who sat on the throne. That many threads are woven into this theory which are drawn from the practical faith of men, from their experience of their own wants, from the lessons they have learnt in Scripture; I gladly own. But that that practical faith has suffered, and does suffer cruelly, from the speculations which have been mixed with it; that the hearts of men crave for a satisfaction which this scheme of divinity does not afford them; that if they would listen to the teaching of Scripture, they would find that satisfaction; I must maintain also. How naturally men conscious of evil wish to change the purpose of a Power which they think is ready to punish this evil; how eagerly they seek for mediators, who they suppose may effect this change; how they may arrive at last at the conception of a Kehama, who by prayers and sacrifice can bend the will of the gods wholly to his will; the mythology of all nations proves abundantly. Christian theology scatters such dark imaginations, by revealing the Highest Ruler as the All-good, Him who sits on the throne as a Being like a jasper or a sardine stone to look upon; by revealing the Lamb that was slain as the perfect sharer of His counsels; the perfect fulfiller of His will; the perfect revealer of His designs to mankind; the perfect Redeemer of the world from the dominion of false, hateful, cruel gods which they had imagined, and which upheld all falsehood, hatred, cruelty in the rulers; the perfect Atoner of man with the Father of Light, in whom is no variableness nor the shadow of turning.
This, I think you will find, is the spirit of that song which the prophet heard in his lonely island. “And when He had taken the book, the four beasts and four and twenty elders fell down before the Lamb, having every one of them harps, and golden vials full of odours, which are the prayers of saints. And they sung a new song, saying, Thou art worthy to take the book, and to open the seals thereof: for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation; and hast made us unto our God kings and priests; and we shall reign on the earth.” We have here a grand confession from those elders who represent the law of the world that the Lamb is the author of that law, and has perfectly fulfilled it, not set it aside or changed its operation in the least degree; from the living creatures who represent the Divine nature that the Lamb has perfectly manifested it, and has in no respect given it a new feeling or direction. The vials full of odours, which are the prayers of saints, are the cries that have gone up from all the sorrowers and sufferers upon earth, for its deliverance from its oppressors, for its true King to appear. And the song is a thanksgiving that He has appeared; that He has submitted to die with those who were under the sentence of death; that by His own blood which He has poured out for them He has delivered them from their bondage; has made them kings and priests to His Father; has given them a pledge and assurance that the earth shall be possessed by the meek, and not by the proud.
IX. And lest we should think of limiting Him who is in the midst of the throne by the benefits He has conferred upon the earth—by the redemption He has wrought out for the fallen and the sinful—lest this natural tendency, which has prevailed so widely in Christendom, should mar the very gratitude which seems to be the excuse for it, and should divide again the creatures which the Lamb has united—the ear of the prophet’s spirit is opened to take in another acclamation: “And I heard the voice of many angels round about the throne and the beasts and the elders; and the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands: saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing.” That which is the highest act of love—towards whatever persons it was manifested from whatever calamities it saved them—must be the highest manifestation of the Divine character and will; therefore must be the cause of delight to all creatures fallen or unfallen. If the Revelation is true, there can be no breach in the sympathies of any part of God’s voluntary and intelligent universe. All must have one centre, one object, one inspiration, that each may perform his own tasks with freedom and joy, that each may be attaining to higher knowledge of the works of God, and of God Himself. Nor these only. Voluntary and intelligent beings are but the priests of the Creation. The whole of it must partake of the redemption; all creation must be continually ascending from under the law of death; there must be signs everywhere that the wings are expanding within the chrysalis; all must be aspiring to enter into the glorious liberty of the sons of God. Not he only who has kept weary watch o’er man’s mortality, and has hoped against hope amidst the wrongs of nations and the sorrows of friends and the sins of his own heart; but also the student of nature, who discovers a wonderful order and beauty through the universe, and yet is tortured continually by the strangest visions of death and destruction; he also bears his part in the thanksgiving: “And every creature which is in heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth, and such as are in the sea, and all that are in them, heard I saying, Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth on the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever. And the four beasts said, Amen. And the four and twenty elders fell down and worshipped him that liveth for ever and ever.”