My Dear Shepherds,
I’ve had the privilege of visiting most of the “holy sites” in Israel, as well as New Testament locations in Turkey and Greece. Of them all, the one that stands out most is “The Cave of the Apocalypse” high above the harbor of Patmos.
I remember standing there in that now overly-ornamented space, trying to imagine the glorified Christ appearing in that rock room to John when he “was in the Spirit” on the Lord’s Day almost two thousand years ago.
I imagine John deep in prayer when a voice like a bugle broke into his reverie, commanding him to write what he was about to see and to dispatch it to the seven churches, our congregations’ spiritual forebears. When John turned “to see the voice” he saw “one like a son of man,” among the lampstands—Jesus Christ among his churches “depicted as shining lights for God in the midst of a hostile world,” as Grant Osborne put it.[i]
Despite his deep familiarity with Jesus, John beheld him in glory that surpassed even the transfiguration. He saw the Lord uniformed, as it were, to deliver the momentous message of the Apocalypse.
[A]mong the lampstands was someone like a son of man, dressed in a robe reaching down to his feet and with a golden sash around his chest. The hair on his head was white like wool, as white as snow, and his eyes were like blazing fire. His feet were like bronze glowing in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of rushing waters. In his right hand he held seven stars, and coming out of his mouth was a sharp, double-edged sword. His face was like the sun shining in all its brilliance. (Rev. 1:13-16)
Everything John saw represented Christ’s royal dignity and wisdom, his fierce authority and judgment. I don’t know if Christ always looks this way in heaven, but his appearance here is tailor-made, a sight for the sore eyes of churches oppressed and tempted by this dark world.
As those who regularly speak for Jesus, take note of his voice here—“like a trumpet,” “like the sound of rushing waters,” and “coming out of his mouth was a sharp, doubled-edged sword.” His voice alone will sever the fraying cord of history and at the end will “strike down the nations.” Of course, as his preachers we cannot just shout louder. We can only represent his voice through the breath of the Spirit and by wielding “the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God.”
Look what the Lord controls in his right hand—seven stars who “are the angels of the seven churches.” In the verses that follow, Christ distributes dispatches to these seven messengers for their assigned congregations, encouragements and warnings now passed down to us as their descendants. Surely the Lord has messages as pointed and particular for each of our churches now if we stop to listen attentively to “what the Spirit says to the churches.”
When John saw that the Lord’s face “was like the sun shining in its brilliance,” he undoubtedly remembered the transfiguration. But here Christ’s shining face meant that no dark corners of this world will go unjudged nor will any wicked enemies be able to hide from our King’s blazing eyes. Near the end of Revelation, John sees that in the Holy City the sun and moon are rendered obsolete “for the glory of God gives it light, and the Lamb is its lamp.”
Ages before that Lord’s Day on Patmos, God instructed Aaron to bless his people with words that will soon be literally true: “The LORD make his face shine upon you and give you peace.”
Be ye glad!
[i] Grant R. Osborne, Revelation, in Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament (Baker Academic, 2002), 87.
