I Was in the Spirit

John uses the expression, "I was in the Spirit" twice in the Apocalypse. Once at 1:10, and once at 4:2. That he was referring to the same state of experience both times could hardly be argued against. What that state was we are about to explore, though it is not explicitly developed in the text. The sort of thing it results in, on the other hand, was explicitly demonstrated throughout the Revelation.

In both instances, the phrases are exactly the same in Koine. On their face, they refer to a locus in or among the Spirit. In the way that one can be "in the wind" or even "in the sun", the Apostle John was in the Spirit. What he is communicating by this was that he was experiencing a pointed (and I would say virtually tangible) consciousness of the divine presence.

This was not John's common or moment-to-moment experience of the Spirit. There are clear enough references to the inception of the experience in both occurrences. In the first usage, this something special happened to occur one Sunday on Patmos. In the second usage, the condition was initiated immediately upon hearing the voice beckoning him to heaven. In both cases, it seems clear that the experience as recorded represented a change from what was going on before.

The word used [ginomai] to describe the existence of John's state packs within it the idea of "becoming" rather than simply being. In other words, John emerged into this state (really, was born into it) at the moment in reference. It is not described in trance-like terms, though the word "ecstasy" is often bandied about while commenting on it. It is ridiculous to do so in my mind, for John betrays no rapture, no enthusiasm, no exhilaration nor any euphoria in conjunction with this experience. Really, there is nothing but matter-of-fact reportage associated with it.

More than anything else the state of being in the Spirit, at least from the accounts of John's being so, is about awareness of the very presence of God--not theoretically, not by faith, but in actuality. If we can generalize from John's experience to any of our's (and I think we can), being in the Spirit is like having a light go on in the dark which suddenly reveals things one would otherwise be unaware of. Those things could be revelations regarding heaven or earth or about the activity of God in a moment past, present or future.

If there is anything precedential or paradigmatic about John's experience, I think it can be said in regard to its application to us, that coming to be in the Spirit (really, acting on charismatic distinctives) is about coming to an acute awareness of God's immediate presence and what he is up to. As a result of that awareness prophecy, or healings, or works of power, or miracles are then manifested in this world. Those manifestations do not break into existence because someone exercised enough faith to produce them, but because someone had come to be in the Holy Spirit.

The Open Door to Heaven

"After these things I looked, and behold, a door standing open in heaven..."      Rev 4:1 NASB

The Apostle John looked up after his visionary experience as an amanuensis, saw an opened door in the heavens and heard the now familiar voice of his visions calling to him, presumably, through it. We're not told what caught his attention first: the appearance of the opened door, or the voice beckoning him. It really doesn't matter. A new phase in his visionary experience was beginning, and its significance would soon be apparent.

The opened door in the heavens most readily signifies access to what normally would be inaccessible to mankind. In this particular instance that represents access to two things beyond human purview: 1) the throne room, or very presence, of God; and 2) the future. God has to open the door to the experience of either, or the heavens remain closed. So, even though it is not specifically mentioned in the text, that door had to have been opened by Jesus, a key bearer who opens what no one else can open or close.

Doors, opened or closed, serve a variety of roles in the Apocalypse, but the basic concept is the same regardless--doors represent a barrier only authority or power can open. There are doors only God can open (like the one in question), and there are doors that God does not (cannot?) open. That would seem an odd thing, a door barring God, but the Apocalypse represents such a thing existing. Jesus stands knocking, in that case, waiting for the invitee to open the door. The implication for monergism, perseverance, and the whole of Calvinism is troubling, to say the least.

"Come up here," though in the form of a command, was more along the lines of divine commentary and was specific to John (singular). It cannot be related to the Rapture, nor really, to anyone else's access to God or heaven, whether by prayer or other means. Immediately, John was transported beyond the door into the midst of whatever it was opened to reveal. The surroundings were obviously symbolic because God (the Father and the Spirit) were represented tangibly when they are actually incorporeal, and Jesus was represented as a lamb rather than the corporeal form he has taken.

The purpose of John's visionary translation was to find out what things take place after the things he had already been shown. Those things were contained in the opening vision of Christ and the Letters to the Seven Churches. It stands to reason, it seems to me, that this particular sequential characteristic undermines viewing the Letters as representing successive ages of the Church. Instead, the Letters, all of them together, must have had reference to something that could have been existent in the time of John and before the bulk of what is revealed as happening afterward according to the stated purpose of the command.

The Twenty-four Elders

24 is a significant, symbolic number in the Apocalypse.

It's symbolic content can be understood in terms of two: two covenants and two flocks becoming one in Christ, the Good Shepherd. Twelve is an obviously significant number since there are 12 tribes in Israel and twelve apostles. 24 is merely the whole of twelve times two, and so represents the one people redeemed by Christ out of Israel and the Gentiles. That is clearly a major theme in the Apocalypse, though it leads dispensationalists and non-dispensationalists to vastly different conclusions.

This theme is visited rather dramatically for the last time in chapter 21 as the New Jerusalem which comes down out of heaven to a new earth is described. The eternal home of the saints has twelve foundations and twelve gates. The combination of 12 and 12 in the structure of the New Jerusalem (which is 24, though not explicitly mentioned) is used to encompass the entirety of God's salvivic people, and picks up the theme which streams throughout the Apocalypse. Jew and Gentile who believe in Christ, though distinctive in some ways, form one eternal people of God.

The 24 are elders (presbyters) which means, basically, they are old men who are wise and worthy of respect. I think the use of the generic term, "elders," accentuates their symbolic quality, and yet excludes seeing them as non-human living creatures, or even angels, because those things are specified in the Apocalypse when they are meant. How long they've been there, or how they got there is not mentioned, so it's either unimportant or so obvious it's assumed to be known. Could they represent the sons of Jacob and the twelve apostles?

Although John is viewing and recording the vision, not much of an objection could be raised to the 24 representing the 12 Apostles (Paul substituted for Judas). It's a bit more difficult to see them representing the actual, less than exemplary, sons of Jacob. Throughout biblical history the names of the twelve tribes was always more important than the twelve people that gave those tribes their names, so specification as to person is not so important with the twelve representing Israel, which fits well if this was merely a generic identification. They could represent some exemplary member of each of the associated tribes, but that is not actually necessary if the identification is purely generic.

They are given thrones placed in close conjunction with that of God, which, along with their victory (but not regnal) crowns, implies they are engaged in judgment and administration with him. That jives well with Matthew 19:28, which would tend to verify seeing at least twelve of them as representing Christ's Apostles. If that is the case, then it's hard to avoid the math and see the other twelve as faithful representatives from each of the twelve tribes. They are clothed in white which is always associated with purity or righteousness in the Apocalypse, so, in effect, the 24 elders are clothed in righteousness.

Aside from judgment, the 24 seem occupied with worship. They hold censers and harps. They fall to their knees (the implication of proskuneo), cast their victory crowns at the feet of God, extol the Creator's virtues, and sings songs of praise to God and the Lamb. The force of their worship is to attribute to God the action that accomplishes his salvivic and magisterial aims--God is the actor, everyone else is the benefactor.

We are told explicitly that the incense signifies the prayers of saints. That is not an endorsement for the doctrine of the Intercession of the Saints, but merely represents that the prayers of the saints rise directly before God. The elders, though themselves men and therefore representative in some fashion of all believing humans, are not the makers nor mediators of the prayers (interceders), but, really, only witnesses of such. The harps, in very similar fashion, signify the praise of those same saints.

So the prayer and praise of the saints rises to the throne of God, symbolically carried by those representative of all who follow. As they are before God in prayer and praise, symbols in the heavens, so are those they represent also before God as they praise and pray on earth.

Rightly Interpreting the Apocalypse

The key to understanding the Apocalypse is to read it, as much as possible, with the assumption that it simply means what it says. Don't get caught up in trying to unravel a knot of hidden symbols as if the work was a mere allegory-- it's not, it's a prophecy. Some things have symbolic meaning, some things are just scenery (so much for Idealism). If everything in the book means something other than what is written, what is written ends up meaning nothing at all.

As the very first sentence of the work clearly states in rather straightforward language and grammar, the work is meant to reveal what is about to occur. It's not written to confound, nor to encrypt, and even when symbolizing, not to leave the reader clueless as to what those symbols represent. The Revelation is not the biblical equivalent of a Rubik's cube. It's written to the general audience of God's people, and it should be understandable to that audience.

The work is generally dated to around 95 AD, although there is a body of people who believe it was written before 70 AD. The usual reason given for the earlier date is because the work does not mention the Temple's destruction in 70 AD. That argument is a vapor, however, because it assumes Herod's Temple had any significance to the temple(s) envisioned within the work. Just as the First Temple's destruction was not treated by Ezekiel, neither did John mention Herod's.

Really, the earlier date only serves one purpose: to give cover to erroneous interpretations arising from the unsound doctrine called Preterism. Historical, textual, and archeological evidence for the earlier date, when examined, proves non-existent. Beside, to cram the last four chapters of the Apocalypse into to any temporal framework that has the events mentioned as already occurring is to take a wrecking ball to the text.

And since that first sentence declares that it is about things which must (Koine: dei, necessarily) soon (Koine: tachos, quickly, without delay) take place, the reasonably justified assumption is that the work would be referencing things beginning to take place around 95 AD. Therefore, any approach attempting to jam virtually all the events foretold in this book into the distant future during the last seven years of history is a fool's errand. 

So it appears that the opening statement of the prophecy precludes every preterist (by dating) and every futurist (by definition) interpretation of the work. Only an historicist interpretation can clear the very first sentence of the work intact!

Some historicists have interpreted the letters to the seven churches as describing, symbolically, seven epochs of the Church Age, starting from the Apostles and ending with the Return of Christ. Whereas that approach at least understands the historical implications of the prophecy, there's nothing in the text or context that demands interpreting it that way. These were churches extant at the time of writing, all at once in real time and were addressed for more transparent reasons, it seems to me, than as symbols for epochs unhinted at in the text.

A simpler (and thereby, generally bound to be better) approach is to take them as representing the totality of the church at any given time. The number seven is associated scripturally with completeness, or entirety, and today one will find churches existing in the same space and time, which would fit rather neatly into the general categories limned out by those seven churches. I think that has always been true, and so take the overall effect of their mention to be symbolic of the church universal throughout time, and representing the diversity in the character of individual congregations.

Whereas the letters to the churches should not be interpreted epochally, the seven seals on the scroll should be. The imagery comes right out of Roman testate law-- under that regimen, wills were sealed with seven wax seals only broken in the presence of the heir. The Lamb, being the first-born from among the dead, had earned the inheritance of creation and mankind: breaking the seals only he could open was the formality that had to occur to bring the will into ultimate enactment. Since each broken seal is related in a process over time, the action represents not only a witness to the authority of the Son of Man, but also reveals epochs proceeding in history leading up to the coronation of the coming King.

In an upcoming post, each seal will be identified by its antecedent historical event. I hope you stay with me!