8/20/23

We’re reading through Revelation along with NT Wright’s Revelation for Everyone. These notes include discussions of topics of additional interest and attempt connections with more Old Testament material.

Revisiting the Throne Room

In the first verses of the Bible, before God speaks anything into existence, we find the Spirit of God hovering over dark waters.

The presence of a placid, crystal sea in God’s throne room may be a symbol of his sovereignty over the pre-Creation state. In the ancient world, kings sometimes kept conquered enemies in court to demonstrate their power (i.e. Judges 1:7). A version of this sea also appears in the Tabernacle and Temple in the form of the laver (Exodus 30:18) or bronze sea (2 Kings 25:16). The Tabernacle and Temple share characteristics with the prophetic visions of God’s throne room. They are likely intended as earthly models of it.  

On day 2 of the Genesis 1 creation story, God separates the waters above from the waters below, yielding sky and sea. He does so by creating an “expanse” or “firmament,” a concept that is foreign to us because it doesn’t match our understanding of the world. Ancient peoples had a different concept of the heavens and the earth. Harvard Divinity School Hebrew Bible professor Andrew Teeter suggests this model in a recent presentation (he calls the expanse “The Sky Plate”):

Image from Andrew Teeter, “The World Seen,” presentation at Multnomah University, 2023.

Several places in the Old Testament introduce us to the expanse, which may help us understand its function relative to God’s throne room.  

When approaching Revelation’s throne room scenes, it’s helpful to look back at other similar scenes earlier in the Bible. Though it is obscured by the translation (I’ve used NET here), Ezekiel’s “platform” is the same Hebrew word “raqia” that we find in Genesis 1 for the expanse or firmament.

Even better to read these in context.

Across these verses, a picture emerges of cherubim beneath an expanse that is luminescent blue like ice or precious stones and God’s throne above it, even over the waters above the expanse. God consistently appears surrounded by clouds, smoke, fire, and lightning. His throne and surroundings are luminous as if made of various precious stones. We’ve previously discussed the strong association with precious metals and stones, fire, and other glowing, luminous materials and with spiritual beings throughout the Old Testament. God’s first association with the rainbow was in the Flood story. Here, a composite image of many such luminous materials in and around God’s throne is surely intended as a depiction of ultimate glory and majesty.

Revelation 4 and following passages build on this imagery, taking us to the power center of the universe, the throne room of the Creator, to observe God at work in momentous events. 

In the nations surrounding ancient Israel, especially the ones without rivers as sources of water for farming, the chief god was often associated with storms. God himself picks up this imagery when he meets the Israelites on Mount Sinai in Exodus 19, and we continue to see it elsewhere in the Old Testament, such as Elijah’s contest with the prophets of Baal (1 Kings 18) and in Psalm 29:

The Lord’s shout is heard over the water;

the majestic God thunders,

the Lord appears over the surging water.

The Lord’s shout is powerful;

the Lord’s shout is majestic.

The Lord’s shout breaks the cedars;

the Lord shatters the cedars of Lebanon.

He makes them skip like a calf,

Lebanon and Sirion like a young ox.

The Lord’s shout strikes with flaming fire.

The Lord’s shout shakes the wilderness;

the Lord shakes the wilderness of Kadesh.

The Lord’s shout bends the large trees

and strips the leaves from the forests. (NET)

When God rests on Sinai in Exodus, he gives Moses the law and instructions for the construction of the Tabernacle. Once the Tabernacle is complete, his presence moves from Sinai to the mostly holy place in the Tabernacle. The elements of the Tabernacle are symbols that help us recognize and remember the nature of God’s relationship with his people.

In the holy place, there are three pieces of furniture:

-The menorah or lampstand made of pure gold and carved with almond tree imagery. It remains lit all the time. Like the burning bush on Sinai, it is the image of a tree that is never extinguished.

-The table of the presence, which holds twelve loaves of bread, likely representing the twelve tribes of Israel. The lampstand shines across the room, illuminating this bread, God’s light shining on his people.

-The incense altar, which stands in front of the entrance to the most holy place. It produces fragrant smoke that obscures the most holy place. 

An Israelite worshipper looking into the holy place would see light from the lampstand shining across the room, reflecting off the room’s golden elements, with the smoke of the incense altar behind. In this way, the Sinai images of smoke and fire reappear in the holy place of the Tabernacle. (see Morales, Michael. Who Shall Ascend the Mountain of the Lord?)

adapted from Tissot The Ark of the Covenant. Wikimedia Commons, Timna-park-tabernacle-schaubrote-tisch. Wikimedia Commons, Timna Tabernacle Incense altar. Wikimedia Commons, Menorah 0307. Wikimedia Commons, Stiftshuette Modell Timnapark. Wikimedia Commons

The elements also enable a ceremonial re-enactment of a story common in the Old Testament – judgment for sin (altar), passing through water (laver), restoration of a remnant in a fruitful land where they can live in relationship with God (the holy place full of Eden imagery). As in the Tabernacle/Temple, Revelation tells us God’s throne room has a sea, lampstands, cherubim, fire, and lightning/storm imagery (though apparently not obscuring smoke as it does in Isaiah 6 ). The layout of the Tabernacle may help us to understand the imagery and the message communicated in the arrangement of God’s throne room in the prophets and Revelation. 

The description of the creatures in Revelation 4 is similar to descriptions of cherubim and seraphim in Ezekiel, Isaiah, and Daniel, but even those are bizarre to modern sensibilities. To ancient eyes, they might have been more recognizable than to us today. The religions of nations surrounding Israel, including Egypt, Babylon, and Assyria who once enslaved Israelites, recognized hybrid human-animal figures, spiritual or human-spirit hybrid beings who performed protection, ceremonial, or advisory functions in temples and palaces. 

Lamasu from the Khorsabad Palace, Assyria. Louvre Museum, Paris Wikimedia Commons

An Assyrian low-relief of a "Pair of eagle-headed protective spirits with Sacred Tree", about 865-860 BC. From Nimrud, North-West Palace, Room I. British Museum Wikimedia Commons

Molded plaque: bull-men flanking a tree trunk surmounted by a sun disc, Babylonian, circa 2000–1600 B.C. Metropolitan Museum of Art Wikimedia Commons

Though these figures are not part of Israelite religion, similar to storm imagery, biblical throne room scenes surround God with imagery of spiritual beings recognized by surrounding cultures and religions, the composite bird-ox-lion-man creatures as ultimate instance of lesser pagan images, cherubim as guardian and ceremonial figures, worshiping YHWH alone. NT Wright assesses them to be representative of the animal kingdom including humans (though apparently sea creatures are left out, sorry Flappy). These are certainly creatures of extraordinary power, with eyes on the inside and out, likely indicating an ability to see outward activity and inward thoughts. Their unceasing occupation is God’s praise.

In NT Wright’s view, the 24 elders are the twelve tribes and the twelve apostles, an idea supported by Matthew 19:28. There appears to be a scholarly consensus around the 24 being some form of Israel and the church. They also praise God with their own statement of honor.  

Like NT Wright, New Testament professor Craig S. Keener writes movingly of the importance of praising God in his commentary on Revelation 4:

God is self-sufficient, but Augustine rightly declared that “God thirsts to be thirsted after.” His love makes him vulnerable to those he loves, if we dare use such language to describe his desire for intimacy with us. As Richard Foster points out, “Our God is not made of stone. His heart is the most sensitive and tender of all. No act goes unnoticed, no matter how insignificant or small.” A cup of cold water is enough to secure his attention (Mark 9:41), like a mother delighted to receive her child’s offering of dandelions. Jesus was moved by the one cleansed leper who returned to give thanks and sad about the nine who did not (Luke 17:17–18). Jesus was touched by the woman who anointed his feet (Mark 14:6–8). God delights in our affection for him and in our pausing to allow him to lavish his affection on us by his Spirit. 

John’s vision encourages Christians in Roman Asia that the worship in the imperial cult is merely a farce, a pale imitation of the true worship in the heavenly court. And as late first-century Christians gained courage to declare that the emperor had no clothes, we must declare the same for the idols of our generation. Caesar did not create (4:11) and is not eternal (4:8), nor did he redeem us by his blood (5:9); he had no control over ultimate hope. In view of present knowledge about the narrow parameters essential for the formation of life in the universe, we can see God’s loving design in creation today in greater detail than our forebears.

Only in the depths of worship, as we stand in awe of God’s majestic glory, do all other competing claims for affection and attention recede into their rightful place. God alone is God, and he alone merits first place—beyond every other love, every other anxiety, every other fear that consumes us. If God’s grandeur dwarfs the emperor’s majesty, it also challenges in a different way the numbing triteness of modern Western culture. God’s greatness summons our attention: Who are we to be overwhelmed by the mortal emperor or our present trials? That God is Lord of history and has everything under control helps us view everything else in life the way we should. Praise puts persecution, poverty, and plagues into perspective; God is sovereignly bringing about his purposes, and this world’s pains are merely the birth pangs of a new world (Rev. 21–22).