Lighting Up the Apocalypse 34: Open Heaven, the White Rider with Many Names, and the Lake of Fire

Rev 19:11-21, Psalm 72/71:2, Psalm 44/5:3-5, Isaiah 63:1-3

Our passage for today, Rev. 19:11-21, begins with great drama.  So far, as we have beheld wonders through the eyes of John, we have seen a door open in heaven, the tabernacle of witness opened, and the temple opened.  Now we hear that heaven itself is opened, and we see its greatest treasure, the LORD Jesus himself, come to rescue His own.  Here is the passage:

Then I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse! The One sitting on it is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he judges and wages war. His eyes are like a flame of fire, and on His head are many diadems, and He has a name inscribed that no one knows but Himself.  He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and the name by which He is called is The Word of God.  And the armies of heaven, arrayed in fine linen, white and pure, were following Him on white horses. Out of His mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and He will rule them with a rod of iron. He will tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty.  On His robe and on His thigh he has a name written, King of kings and LORD of lords.

Then I saw an angel standing in the sun, and with a loud voice he called to all the birds that were flying directly overhead, “Come, gather for the great supper of God, to eat the flesh of kings, the flesh of captains, the flesh of mighty men, the flesh of horses and their riders, and the flesh of all men, both free and slave, both small and great.” And I saw the beast and the kings of the earth with their armies gathered to make war against the One who was sitting on the horse and against His army. And the beast was captured, and with it the false prophet who in its presence had done the signs by which he deceived those who had received the mark of the beast and those who worshiped its image. These two were thrown alive into the lake of fire that burns with sulfur. And the rest were slain by the sword that came from the mouth of Him who was sitting on the horse, and all the birds were gorged with their flesh.

As with other passages in this book of visions, there is the glorious, and there is the fearful.  The opening of heaven reveals both the King of kings, and the lake of fire into which God’s enemies are justly cast. Judgment, of course, is a difficult topic for people in our day, and not particularly welcome.  Some, in our tolerant age, do not easily differentiate between justice and revenge.  They take seriously the legacy of the Christian faith, that the sober and kind person will not “judge;” they reject the corollary of this Christian ethic, that “judgment belongs to the LORD.” However, it is clear from the entire witness of the Bible, including the New Testament, that judgment indeed is the prerogative of God, and a strong sign of His complete truthfulness and goodness.  God’s wrath is not the dark side of a dualistic and capricious God, but a necessary characteristic of the One who always acts in righteousness.  For Christians, this means that we see the divine righteousness displayed in Jesus Himself—whether in His humble first coming or His glorious Second Coming, when all we be made clear, and repaired.  As the Psalmist puts it,

 Give the King your judgment, O God,

and Your righteousness to the royal son!

May He judge your people with righteousness,

and Your poor with good judgment!  Psalm LXX 71:/MT 72:1-2

The One who comes to rescue must do something about those who oppress.

It is helpful, in reading this passage, to remember that the words “righteousness” and “justice” are synonyms in Greek, and that they are often clustered with the verb “to judge.”  The One who arrives on the white horse (and no longer on a donkey) has come as not only a warrior but a just judge: “in righteousness he judges and wages war.”  There are many things apparent about Him, seen in his many roles and names, but there is still a mystery hidden, a “name” known only to Himself.  These details picture the One whom we worship alongside Father and Spirit, for He is revealed in our human (though here, glorious!) form: His name is “Faithful,” “True,” “Word of God,” “King of kings,” and “LORD of lords,” and He wears human apparel, that is, our human body.  Yet there is a name, an essence, known only to Himself: He retains the divine mystery. As the contemporary of St. John Chrysostom, Oecumenius, puts it,

In Exodus, God speaks to holy Moses: “I am the Lord. I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob, being their God, but I did not reveal to them my name, the LORD,” showing that it is to be regarded as superior to any report of man. And for this reason, the Lord also handed over to his apostles how those who had turned to the knowledge of God ought to be baptized, saying, “baptizing them in the name.” And when he said “name,” he did not transmit the proper names—for he had no power to give utterance to their names. Rather, instead of the proper names, he transmitted relational and personal names, for he spoke names of relation when he said, “in the name of the Father and of the Son,” while he added a personal name, “and in the Holy Spirit.” Therefore, most definitely, also in the Revelation, He allows the proper name of the Only Begotten to remain unknown to everyone. (Commentary on the Apocalypse 19.11–16; TEG 8:242-243)

Similarly, St. Andrew of Caesarea says,

That his name is unknown signifies the incomprehensibility of his essence. By virtue of his works he is known by many names, such as Good, Shepherd, Sun, Light, Life, Righteousness, Holiness, Redemption. Similarly, he is called by terms of negation, such as Incorruptible, Invisible, Immortal, Unchangeable.  However, according to his essence he is without name and is unapproachable, being known by Himself alone with the Father and the Spirit. (Commentary on the Apocalypse 19.12)

This, then, is truly the opening of heaven inasmuch as we can bear it—we see the full glory of God the Son, on display, and coming to our aid.  But part of the revelation is to know that there remains something that we cannot  know, for He is God.  Part of that mystery may be how it is that justice and mercy come together in God!  How is it that flames, blood, and sword are seen together with white, deliverance, and wine?  This is all part of the mystery that makes Holy Friday “good.”

Some of the fathers attempt to dispel this mystery somewhat be talking about the power of God’s word to correct, to heal, and to save.  Origen, who despite his errors has much that is helpful to see in his exposition of Scripture reminds us of what it is that God accomplishes by His word:

Now just as it is said that the task of the Word is to judge with justice, so also His task is said to be to fight according to justice, that by thus fighting the soul’s enemies with reason and justice, He may dwell in it and justify it when the irrational elements and injustice are destroyed. He casts out the hostile elements from that soul which, if I may speak in this way, has been taken captive by Christ for salvation. (Commentary on the Gospel of John 2.47–54.  FC 80 106-8)

In a similar vein, Apringius of Beja (a sixth century Latin father), comments, “He makes war by freeing us from the adversity of sin; he is patient by enduring the sins we commit; he is called strong because he repels whatever opposes him.” (Tractate on the Apocalypse 19.11–13. CCL 107.72-3).  Origen and Apringius, then, see the “fighting” of the Word in terms of Hebrews 4:12, which reminds us of how God’s word can pierce within us, and change us: “For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart.”  John’s vision invites us to think along such lines, since the LORD Jesus is here called “the Word of God,” and is pictured with a sword coming from his mouth, with which He slays his foes, rather than merely in His hand.  This is a strange sort of warrior, whose weapons against the foe are words of power!

An internal reading of the passage, which recognizes the enemies within us, goes some distance in explaining what St. John means here. We ought not, however, to limit the warfare of the LORD by seeing it as merely internally within us, removing our iniquities.  After all, the enemies of God in this scene are actual, and not simply our failures.  We might note, though, that the two main enemies, who find themselves in the lake of fire, are not actually human, since the beast is the Devil, and his mouthpiece is the prophet has sold himself to evil.  The Old Testament passages that are echoed in this chapter of Revelation indeed point to God’s outer enemies that must be vanquished, for the sake of God’s people.

We may think especially of Psalm LXX 44:3-7 (MT 45:4-8), which pictures someone very like this Word Of God riding out victoriously, and calls this one “God,” whose throne reigns forever.  His campaign is against the “enemies” who are oppressing God’s people:

Gird your sword on your thigh, O mighty one,

in your splendor and majesty!

In your majesty ride out victoriously

for the cause of truth and meekness and righteousness;

let your right hand teach you awesome deeds!

Your arrows are sharp

in the heart of the king’s enemies;

the peoples fall under you.

Your throne, O God, is forever and ever.

The scepter of your kingdom is a scepter of uprightness;

you have loved righteousness and hated wickedness.

In this passage, as in Revelation 19, the sword on the thigh, the truthfulness and righteousness, and the eternal scepter are detailed— as well as the “meekness” of the One who is riding out to right the balance. We may not immediately think in terms of “meekness” when we behold a mounted warrior, but it helps to remember that this same figure is the Lamb who was slain, an image fixed forever in our minds by the worship scene of chapters 4 and 5.  The cause of God the Word is not simply to vanquish foes, but to remove sin and death for our sake.  And His victory has come through His own suffering.  As the sixth century  bishop Primasius reminds us, “He judges as the King of all ages. He makes war as one who always suffers in his members. When he fights, he conquers; he crowns himself; he offers himself as strength to those who struggle; he promises himself as the prize for those who overcome.” (Commentary on the Apocalypse 19.11, CCL 92:264).

Though He comes to claim victory with all the hosts of heaven (most probably the angels), we are reminded that the victory has come only because of His own incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection.  He stands alone as Victor, though He shares His glory with the saints and the angels who accompany Him.  The uniqueness of this Victor is clearly indicated by St. John, who also incorporates a phrase from Isaiah concerning what the LORD has accomplished in “treading the winepress of the wrath of God.”  Here is the entire dramatic passage from Isaiah 63: 1-4 (translated from the LXX):

Who is this who comes…

in crimsoned garments…

so beautiful in his apparel,

in the greatness of his strength?

“It is I, speaking about righteousness,

and saving judgment.”

Why is your apparel red,

and your garments like his who treads in the winepress?

“I have trodden the winepress alone,

and from the peoples no one was with me…

For the day of repayment has come to them,

and the season of redemption has arrived.”

Here, then, the mysterious One has come, and He reminds us that He alone is capable of righting the wrongs.  To do this involves “repayment” or justice for the oppressors, and redemption for those who are oppressed. As forgiven sinners, we know that we have a foot in both camps, but count on the mercy of the LORD who has called us out of Babylon.

What then, are we to make of the final “gory” tableau, where the beast and the prophet are cast into the fire, and the birds are called to “eat the flesh” of the “rest” of those who have followed them into rebellion?  Primasius urged that “We ought not think of this in a carnal manner so that we believe that the saints, who seek higher things, are sated on the flesh of the impious.”  Rather, he says, the saints “shall not rejoice at the damnation of the wicked, but are sated by the light of the divine righteousness; they will at that time rejoice”  (Commentary on the Apocalypse 19.21, CCL 92:270-1).

Certainly the language of devastation and the unsavory scene of flesh left after warfare is disturbing.  Primasius reminds us, though, of our Christian imagination, and how Schädenfreude, or enjoying the downfall of others, is not compatible with the mind of Christ.  Further, we may flash forward to the final chapters of the book of Revelation, where kings and leaders bring into the holy city their tributes, and become part of that holy community, along with the small and the great.  Somehow, the hope of salvation must be held alongside this scene of conquest over God’s enemies.  The good bishop appears sound in saying that what should “satisfy” us about this scene is the absolute justice and complete victory of our LORD, here depicted as an accomplished battle.  Sounding in our ears is also the plea of the LORD, “Come out of her, my people!” This plea woos those who might remain at enmity with God, or in collaboration with his enemies, to not follow the terrible duo, the beast and his pretentious prophet.  In the end, these are visions, visions intended to spur us to follow the Lamb wherever He goes, and not to be deceived. Faced with this scene of carnage, perhaps we may be bold to ask of this vision, like Scrooge in The Christmas Carol: “Are these the shadows of the things that WILL be, or are they shadows of things that MAY be, only?”

We hope and pray, with all our holy fathers, that we and those whom we know will heed God’s invitation, and not give in to demonic seduction.  This is not a vain hope, for we worship the One who lived, died, and rose for all, and who “wills that everyone be saved and come to a knowledge of the truth” (1 Tim 2:4).  Yet we must not declare, as some have done, what we have not yet seen, given the sober warnings found here, and in Jesus’ own parables.  God’s mercy and power are great and give hope; yet the serious implications remain concerning Christ’s coming as righteous Judge.  Our salvation is not automatic, and requires our choice – our cleaving to the Deliverer. When Scrooge asked about the unhappy things that he had seen, and  doom which he has envisaged on his final trip with the spirit of the future, that ghost merely pointed downward to the grave.  And Scrooge himself then realized:  “Men’s courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead.” St. John’s open heaven reminds us that it does not all depend upon us, though.  The Lamb has been slain and stands.  This vision shows us our Deliverer, and calls us to change our course so that we follow Him.