Chapter III (2)

15. _I know thy works._ Notes on ch. ii. 2. ¶ _That thou art neither cold nor hot._ The word _cold_ here would seem to denote the state where there was no pretension to religion; where everything was utterly lifeless and dead. The language is obviously figurative, but it is such as is often employed, when we speak of one as being _cold_ towards another, as having a cold or icy heart, &c. The word _hot_ would denote, of course, the opposite――warm and zealous in their love and service. The very words that we are constrained to use when speaking on this subject――such words as _ardent_ (i.e. _hot_ or _burning_); _fervid_ (i.e. _very hot_, _burning_, _boiling_)――show how necessary it is to use such words, and how common it is. The state indicated here, therefore, would be that in which there was a profession of religion, but no warm-hearted piety; in which there was not, on the one hand, open and honest opposition to him, and, on the other, such warm-hearted and honest love as he had a right to look for among his professed friends; in which there was a profession of that religion which _ought_ to warm the heart with love, and fill the soul with zeal in the cause of the Redeemer; but where the only result, in fact, was deadness and indifference to him and his cause. Among those who made no profession he had reason to expect nothing but coldness; among those who made a profession he had a right to expect the glow of a warm affection; but he found nothing but indifference. ¶ _I would thou wert cold or hot._ That is, I would prefer _either_ of those states to that which now exists. Anything better than this condition, where love is professed, but where it does not exist; where vows have been assumed which are not fulfilled. _Why_ he would prefer that they should be “hot” is clear enough; but why would he prefer a state of utter coldness――a state where there was no profession of real love? To this question the following answers may be given: (1) Such a state of open and professed coldness or indifference is more _honest_. There is no disguise; no concealment; no pretence. We know where one in this state “may be found;” we know with whom we are dealing; we know what to expect. Sad as the state is, it is at least honest; and we are so made that we all prefer such a character to one where professions are made which are never to be realized――to a state of insincerity and hypocrisy. (2) Such a state is more _honourable_. It is a more elevated condition of mind, and marks a higher character. Of a man who is false to his engagements, who makes professions and promises never to be realized, we can make nothing. There is essential meanness in such a character, and there is nothing in it which we can respect. But in the character of the man who is openly and avowedly opposed to anything; who takes his stand, and is earnest and zealous in his course, though it be wrong, there are traits which may be, under a better direction, elements of true greatness and magnanimity. In the character of Saul of Tarsus there were always the elements of true greatness; in that of Judas Iscariot there were never. The one was capable of becoming one of the noblest men that has ever lived on the earth; the other, even under the personal teaching of the Redeemer for years, was nothing but a traitor――a man of essential meanness. (3) There is more hope of conversion and salvation in such a case. There could always have been a ground of hope that Saul would be converted and saved, even when “breathing out threatening and slaughter;” of Judas, when numbered among the professed disciples of the Saviour, there was no hope. The most hopeless of all persons, in regard to salvation, are those who are members of the church without any true religion; who have made a profession without any evidence of personal piety; who are content with a name to live. This is so, because (a) the essential character of {100} anyone who will allow himself to _do this_ is eminently unfavourable to true religion. There is a lack of that thorough honesty and sincerity which is so necessary for true conversion to God. He who is content to profess to be what he really is not, is not a man on whom the truths of Christianity are likely to make an impression. (b) Such a man never applies the truth to himself. Truth that is addressed to impenitent sinners he does not apply to himself, of course; for he does not rank himself in that class of persons. Truth addressed to hypocrites he _will_ not apply to himself; for no one, however insincere and hollow he may be, chooses to act on the presumption that he is himself a hypocrite, or so as to leave others to suppose that he regards himself as such. The means of grace adapted to save a _sinner_, as such, he will not use; for he is in the church, and chooses to regard himself as safe. Efforts made to reclaim him he will resist; for he will regard it as proof of a meddlesome spirit, and an uncharitable judging in others, if they consider him to be anything different from what he professes to be. What right have they to go _back_ of his profession, and assume that he is insincere? As a consequence, there are probably fewer persons by far converted of those who come into the church without any religion, than of any other class of persons of similar number; and the most hopeless of all conditions, in respect to conversion and salvation, is when one enters the church deceived. (c) It may be presumed that, for these reasons, God himself will make less direct effort to convert and save such persons. As there are fewer appeals that can be brought to bear on them; as there is less in their character that is noble, and that can be depended on in promoting the salvation of a soul; and as there is special guilt in hypocrisy, it may be presumed that God will more frequently leave such persons to their chosen course, than he will those who make no professions of religion. Comp. Ps. cix. 17, 18; Je. vii. 16; xi. 14; xiv. 11; Is. i. 15; Ho. iv. 17.

16 So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot,
I will spue thee out of my mouth.

16. _So then because thou art lukewarm――I will spue thee out of my mouth._ Referring, perhaps, to the well-known fact that tepid water tends to produce sickness at the stomach, and an inclination to vomit. The image is intensely strong, and denotes deep disgust and loathing at the indifference which prevailed in the church at Laodicea. The idea is, that they would be utterly rejected and cast off as a church――a threatening of which there has been an abundant fulfilment in subsequent times. It may be remarked, also, that what was threatened to that church may be expected to occur to all churches, if they are in the same condition; and that all professing Christians, and Christian churches, that are lukewarm, have special reason to dread the indignation of the Saviour.

17 Because thou sayest, [165]I am rich, and increased with
goods, and have need of nothing; and knowest not that thou art
wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked:

17. _Because thou sayest, I am rich._ So far as the _language_ here is concerned, this may refer either to riches literally, or to spiritual riches; that is, to a boast of having religion enough. Professor Stuart supposes that it refers to the former, and so do Wetstein, Vitringa, and others. Doddridge, Rosenmüller, and others, understand it in the latter sense. There is no doubt that there was much wealth in Laodicea, and that, as a people, they prided themselves on their riches. See the authorities in Wetstein on Col. ii. 1, and Vitringa, p. 160. It is not easy to determine _which_ is the true sense; but may it not have been that there was an allusion to _both_, and that, _in every respect_, they boasted that they had enough? May it not have been so much the characteristic of that people to boast of their wealth, that they carried the spirit into everything, and manifested it even in regard to religion? Is it not true that they who have much of this world’s goods, when they make a profession of religion, are very apt to suppose that they are well off in everything, and to feel self-complacent and happy? And is not the possession of much wealth by an individual Christian, or a Christian church, likely to produce just the lukewarmness which it is said existed in the church at Laodicea? If we thus understand it, {101} there will be an accordance with the well-known fact that Laodicea was distinguished for its riches, and, at the same time, with another fact, so common as to be almost universal, that the possession of great wealth tends to make a professed Christian self-complacent and satisfied in every respect; to make him feel that, although he may not have much _religion_, yet he is on the whole well off; and to produce, in religion, a state of just such lukewarmness as the Saviour here says was loathsome and odious. ¶ _And increased with goods._ πεπλούτηκα――“I am enriched.” This is only a more emphatic and intensive way of saying the same thing. It has no reference to the _kind_ of riches referred to, but merely denotes the confident manner in which they affirmed that they were rich. ¶ _And have need of nothing._ Still an emphatic and intensive way of saying that they were rich. In all respects their wants were satisfied; they had enough of everything. They felt, therefore, no stimulus to effort; they sat down in contentment, self-complacency, and indifference. It is almost unavoidable that those who are rich in this world’s goods should feel that they have need of _nothing_. There is no more common illusion among men than the feeling that if one has wealth he has everything; that there is no want of his nature which cannot be satisfied with that; and that he may now sit down in contentment and ease. Hence the almost universal desire _to be_ rich; hence the common feeling among those who _are_ rich that there is no occasion for solicitude or care for anything else. Comp. Lu. xii. 19. ¶ _And knowest not._ There is no just impression in regard to the real poverty and wretchedness of your condition. ¶ _That thou art wretched._ The word _wretched_ we now use to denote the actual consciousness of being miserable, as applicable to one who is sunk into deep distress or affliction. The word here, however, refers rather to the condition itself than to the consciousness of that condition, for it is said that they did not _know_ it. Their state was, in fact, a miserable state, and was fitted to produce actual distress if they had had any just sense of it, though they thought that it was otherwise. ¶ _And miserable._ This word has, with us now, a similar signification; but the term here used――ἐλεεινὸς――rather means a _pitiable_ state than one actually _felt_ to be so. The meaning is, that their condition was one that was fitted to excite _pity_ or _compassion_; not that they were actually miserable. Comp. Notes on 1 Co. xv. 19. ¶ _And poor._ Notwithstanding all their boast of having enough. They really had not that which was necessary to meet the actual wants of their nature, and, therefore, they were poor. Their worldly property could not meet the wants of their souls; and, with all their pretensions to piety, they had not religion enough to meet the necessities of their nature when calamities should come, or when death should approach; and they were, therefore, in the strictest sense of the term, _poor_. ¶ _And blind._ That is, in a spiritual respect. They did not see the reality of their condition; they had no just views of themselves, of the character of God, of the way of salvation. This seems to be said in connection with the boast which they made in their own minds――that they had _everything_; that they wanted nothing. One of the great blessings of life is clearness of vision, and their boast that they had everything must have included that; but the speaker here says that they lacked that indispensable thing to completeness of character and to full enjoyment. With all their boasting, they were actually _blind_,――and how could one who was in that state say that he “had need of nothing?” ¶ _And naked._ Of course, _spiritually_. Salvation is often represented as a garment (Mat. xxii. 11, 12; Re. vi. 11; vii. 9, 13, 14); and the declaration here is equivalent to saying that they had no religion. They had nothing to cover the nakedness of the soul, and in respect to the real wants of their nature they were like one who had no clothing in reference to cold, and heat, and storms, and to the shame of nakedness. How could such an one be regarded as rich? We may learn from this instructive verse, (1) That men may think themselves to be rich, and yet, in fact, be miserably poor. They may have the wealth of this world in abundance, and yet have nothing that really will meet their wants in disappointment, bereavement, sickness, death; the wants of their never-dying soul; their wants in eternity. What had the “rich fool,” as he is commonly termed, in the parable, when he came to die? Lu. xii. 16, {102} seq. What had “Dives,” as he is commonly termed, to meet the wants of his nature when he went down to hell? Lu. xvi. 19, seq. (2) Men may have much property, and think that they have all they want, and yet be _wretched_. In the sense that their _condition_ is a wretched condition, this is always true; and in the sense that they are consciously wretched, this may be, and often is, true also. (3) Men may have great property, and yet be _miserable_. This is true in the sense that their condition is a _pitiable_ one, and in the sense that they are actually _unhappy_. There is no more pitiable _condition_ than that where one has great property, and is self-complacent and proud, and who has nevertheless no God, no Saviour, no hope of heaven, and who perhaps that very day may “lift up his eyes in hell, being in torments;” and it need not be added that there is no greater actual _misery_ in this world than that which sometimes finds its way into the palaces of the rich. He greatly errs who thinks that misery is confined to the cottages of the poor. (4) Men may be rich, and think they have all that they want, and yet be _blind_ to their condition. They really have no distinct vision of anything. They have no just views of God, of themselves, of their duty, of this world, or of the next. In most important respects they are in a worse condition than the inmates of an asylum for the blind, for they may have clear views of God and of heaven. Mental darkness is a greater calamity than the loss of natural vision; and there is many an one who is surrounded by all that affluence can give, who never yet had one correct view of his own character, of his God, or of the reality of his condition, and whose condition might have been far better if he had actually been born blind. (5) There may be gorgeous robes of adorning, and yet real nakedness. With all the decorations that wealth can impart, there may be a nakedness of the soul as real as that of the body would be if, without a rag to cover it, it were exposed to cold, and storm, and shame. The soul destitute of the robes of salvation, is in a worse condition than the body without raiment; for how can it bear the storms of wrath that shall beat upon it for ever, and the shame of its exposure in the last dread day?

18 I counsel thee to [166]buy of me gold tried in the fire,
that thou mayest be rich; and white raiment, that thou mayest
be clothed, and _that_ [167]the shame of thy nakedness do not
appear; and anoint thine eyes with eye-salve, that thou mayest
see.

18. _I counsel thee to buy of me gold tried in the fire._ Pure gold; such as has been subjected to the action of heat to purify it from dross. See Notes on 1 Pe. i. 7. Gold here is emblematic of religion――as being the most precious of the metals, and the most valued by men. They professed to be rich, but were not; and he counsels them to obtain from him that which would make them truly rich. ¶ _That thou mayest be rich._ In the true and proper sense of the word. With true religion; with the favour and friendship of the Redeemer, they would have all that they really needed, and would never be in want. ¶ _And white raiment._ The emblem of purity and salvation. See Notes on ver. 4. This is said in reference to the fact (ver. 17) that they were then _naked_. ¶ _That thou mayest be clothed._ With the garments of salvation. This refers, also, to true religion, meaning that that which the Redeemer furnishes will answer the same purpose in respect to the soul which clothing does in reference to the body. Of course it cannot be understood literally, nor should the language be pressed too closely, as if there was too strict a resemblance. ¶ _And that the shame of thy nakedness do not appear._ We clothe the body as well for decency as for protection against cold, and storm, and heat. The soul is to be clothed that the “shame” of its sinfulness may not be exhibited, and that it may not be offensive and repellant in the sight. ¶ _And anoint thine eyes with eye- salve._ In allusion to the fact that they were _blind_, ver. 17. The word _eye-salve_――κολλούριον――occurs nowhere else in the New Testament. It is a diminutive from κολλύρα――_collyra_――a coarse bread or cake, and means properly a small cake or cracknel. It is applied to eye-salve as resembling such a cake, and refers to a medicament prepared for sore or weak eyes. It was compounded of various substances supposed to have a healing {103} quality. See Wetstein, _in loco_. The reference here is to a spiritual healing――meaning that, in respect to their spiritual vision, what he would furnish would produce the same effect as the collyrium or eye-salve would in diseased eyes. The idea is, that the grace of the gospel enables men who were before blind to see clearly the character of God, the beauty of the way of salvation, the loveliness of the person and work of Christ, &c. See Notes on Ep. i. 18.

19 As[168] many as I love, I rebuke and chasten: be zealous
therefore, and repent.

19. _As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten._ Of course, only on the supposition that they deserve it. The meaning is, that it is a proof of love on his part, if his professed friends go astray, to recall them by admonitions and by trials. So a father calls back his children who are disobedient; and there is no higher proof of his love than when, with great pain to himself, he administers such chastisement as shall save his child. See the sentiment here expressed fully explained in the Notes on He. xii. 6, seq. The language is taken from Pr. iii. 12. ¶ _Be zealous, therefore, and repent._ Be earnest, strenuous, ardent in your purpose to exercise true repentance, and to turn from the error of your ways. Lose no time; spare no labour, that you may obtain such a state of mind that it shall not be necessary to bring upon you the severe discipline which always comes on those who continue lukewarm in religion. The _truth_ taught here is, that when the professed followers of Christ have become lukewarm in his service, they should lose no time in returning to him, and seeking his favour again. As sure as he has any true love for them, if this is not done he will bring upon them some heavy calamity, alike to rebuke them for their errors, and to recover them to himself.

20 Behold, I stand at the door, and [169]knock: [170]if any
man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him,
and will sup with him, and he with me.

20. _Behold, I stand at the door, and knock._ Intimating that, though they had erred, the way of repentance and hope was not closed against them. He was still willing to be gracious, though their conduct had been such as to be loathsome, ver. 16. To see the real force of this language, we must remember how disgusting and offensive their conduct had been to him. And yet he was willing, notwithstanding this, to receive them to his favour; nay more, he stood and pled with them that he might be received with the hospitality that would be shown to a friend or stranger. The _language_ here is so plain that it scarcely needs explanation. It is taken from an act when we approach a dwelling, and, by a well-understood sign――_knocking_――announce our presence, and ask for admission. The act of _knocking_ implies two things: (a) that we desire admittance; and (b) that we recognize the right of him who dwells in the house to open the door to us or not, as he shall please. We would not obtrude upon him; we would not force his door; and if, after we are sure that we are heard, we are not admitted, we turn quietly away. Both of these things are implied here by the language used by the Saviour when he approaches man as represented under the image of knocking at the door: that he _desires_ to be admitted to our friendship; and that he recognizes our _freedom_ in the matter. He does not obtrude himself upon us, nor does he employ force to find admission to the heart. If admitted, he comes and dwells with us; if rejected, he turns quietly away――perhaps to return and knock again, perhaps never to come back. The language here used, also, may be understood as applicable to all persons, and to all the methods by which the Saviour seeks to come into the heart of a sinner. It would properly refer to anything which would announce his presence:――his word; his Spirit; the solemn events of his providence; the invitations of his gospel. In these and in other methods he comes to man; and the manner in which these invitations ought to be estimated would be seen by supposing that he came to us personally and solicited our friendship, and proposed to be our Redeemer. It may be added here, that this expression proves that the attempt at reconciliation begins with the Saviour. It is not that the sinner goes out to meet him, or to seek for him; it is that the Saviour _presents himself_ at the door of the heart, as if he were desirous {104} to enjoy the friendship of man. This is in accordance with the uniform language of the New Testament, that “God so loved the world as to _give_ his only-begotten Son;” that “Christ came to _seek_ and to save the lost;” that the Saviour says, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden,” &c. Salvation, in the Scriptures, is never represented as originated by man. ¶ _If any man hear my voice._ Perhaps referring to a custom then prevailing, that he who knocked spake, in order to let it be known who it was. This might be demanded in the night (Lu. xi. 5), or when there was apprehension of danger, and it may have been the custom when John wrote. The language here, in accordance with the uniform usage in the Scriptures (comp. Is. lv. 1; Jn. vii. 37; Re. xxii. 17), is universal, and proves that the invitations of the gospel are made, and are _to be_ made, not to a part only, but fully and freely to all men; for, although this originally had reference to the members of the church in Laodicea, yet the language chosen seems to have been of design so universal (ἐάν τις) as to be applicable to every human being; and anyone, of any age and in any land, would be authorized to apply this to himself, and, under the protection of this invitation, to come to the Saviour, and to plead this promise as one that fairly included himself. It may be observed farther, that this also recognizes the freedom of man. It is submitted to him whether he will hear the voice of the Redeemer or not; and whether he will open the door and admit him or not. He speaks loud enough, and distinctly enough, to be heard, but he does not force the door if it is not voluntarily opened. ¶ _And open the door._ As one would when a stranger or friend stood and knocked. The meaning here is simply, if anyone will _admit_ me; that is, receive me as a friend. The act of receiving him is as voluntary on our part as it is when we rise and open the door to one who knocks. It may be added, (1) that this is an _easy_ thing. Nothing is more easy than to open the door when one knocks; and so everywhere in the Scriptures it is represented as an easy thing, if the heart is willing, to secure the salvation of the soul. (2) This is a _reasonable_ thing. We invite him who knocks at the door to come in. We always assume, unless there is reason to suspect the contrary, that he applies for peaceful and friendly purposes. We deem it the height of rudeness to let one stand and knock long; or to let him go away with no friendly invitation to enter our dwelling. Yet how different does the sinner treat the Saviour! How long does he suffer him to knock at the door of his heart, with no invitation to enter――no act of common civility such as that with which he would greet even a stranger! And with how much coolness and indifference does he see him turn away――perhaps to come back no more, and with no desire that he ever should return! ¶ _I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me._ This is an image denoting intimacy and friendship. Supper, with the ancients, was the principal social meal; and the idea here is, that between the Saviour and those who would receive him there would be the intimacy which subsists between those who sit down to a friendly meal together. In all countries and times, to eat together, to break bread together, has been the symbol of friendship, and this the Saviour promises here. The _truths_, then, which are taught in this verse, are, (1) that the invitation of the gospel is made to all――“if _any_ man hear my voice;” (2) that the movement towards reconciliation and friendship is originated by the Saviour――“behold, I stand at the door and knock;” (3) that there is a recognition of our own free agency in religion――“if any man will hear my voice, and open the door;” (4) the _ease_ of the terms of salvation, represented by “hearing his voice,” and “opening the door;” and (5) the blessedness of thus admitting him, arising from his friendship――“I will sup with him, and he with me.” What friend can man have who would confer so many benefits on him as the Lord Jesus Christ? Who is there that he should so gladly welcome to his bosom?

21 To him that [171]overcometh will I grant to [172]sit with
me in my throne, even as [173]I also overcame, and am set down
with my Father in his throne.

21. _To him that overcometh._ See Notes on ch. ii. 7. ¶ _Will I grant to sit with me in my throne._ That is, {105} they will share his honours and his triumphs. See Notes on ch. ii. 26, 27; comp. Notes on Ro. viii. 17. ¶ _Even as I also overcame._ As I gained a victory over the world, and over the power of the tempter. As the reward of this, he is exalted to the throne of the universe (Phi. ii. 6‒11), and in these honours, achieved by their great and glorious Head, all the redeemed will share. ¶ _And am set down with my Father in his throne._ Comp. Notes on Phi. ii. 6‒11. That is, he has dominion over the universe. All things are put under his feet, and in the strictest unison and with perfect harmony he is united with the Father in administering the affairs of all worlds. The dominion of the Father is that of the Son――that of the Son is that of the Father; for they are one. See Notes on Jn. v. 19; comp. Notes on Ep. i. 20‒22; 1 Co. xv. 24‒28.

22 He[174] that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit
saith unto the churches.

22. _He that hath an ear_, &c. See Notes on ch. ii. 7.

This closes the epistolary part of this book, and the “visions” properly commence with the next chapter. Two remarks may be made in the conclusion of this exposition. (1) The first relates to the truthfulness of the predictions in these epistles. As an illustration of that truthfulness, and of the present correspondence of the condition of those churches with what the Saviour said to John they would be, the following striking passage may be introduced from Mr. Gibbon. It occurs in his description of the conquests of the Turks (_Decline and Fall_, iv. 260, 261). “Two Turkish chieftains, Sarukhan and Aidin left their names to their conquests, and their conquests to their posterity. The captivity or ruin of the _seven_ churches of Asia was consummated; and the barbarous lords of Ionia and Lydia still trample on the monuments of classic and Christian antiquity. In the loss of Ephesus, the Christians deplored the fall of the first angel, the extinction of the first candlestick of the Revelations: the desolation is complete; and the temple of Diana, or the church of Mary, will equally elude the search of the curious traveller. The circus and three stately theatres of Laodicea are now peopled with wolves and foxes; Sardis is reduced to a miserable village; the God of Mahomet, without a rival or a son, is invoked in the mosques of Thyatira and Pergamos; and the populousness of Smyrna is supported by the foreign trade of Franks and Armenians. Philadelphia alone has been saved by prophecy or courage. At a distance from the sea, forgotten by the emperors, encompassed on all sides by the Turks, her valiant citizens defended their religion and freedom above fourscore years, and at length capitulated with the proudest of the Ottomans. Among the Greek colonies and churches of Asia, Philadelphia is still erect, a column in a scene of ruins; a pleasing example that the paths of honour and safety may sometimes be the same.”

(2) The second remark relates to the applicability of these important truths to us. There is perhaps no part of the New Testament more searching than these brief epistles to the seven churches; and though those to whom they were addressed have long since passed away, and the churches have long since become extinct; though darkness, error, and desolation have come over the places where these churches once stood, yet the principles laid down in these epistles still live, and they are full of admonition to Christians in all ages and all lands. It is a consideration of as much importance to us as it was to these churches, that the Saviour now knows our works; that he sees in the church, and in any individual, all that there is to commend and all that there is to reprove; that he has power to reward or punish now as he had then; that the same rules in apportioning rewards and punishments will still be acted on; that he who overcomes the temptations of the world will find an appropriate reward; that those who live in sin must meet with the proper recompense, and that those who are lukewarm in his service will be spurned with unutterable loathing. His rebukes are awful; but his promises are full of tenderness and kindness. While they who have embraced error, and they who are living in sin, have occasion to tremble before him, they who are endeavouring to perform their duty may find in these epistles enough to cheer their hearts, and to animate them with the hope of final victory, and of the most ample and glorious reward.

{106} CHAPTER IV.

ANALYSIS OF THE CHAPTER.

This chapter properly commences the series of visions respecting future events, and introduces those remarkable symbolical descriptions which were designed to cheer the hearts of those to whom the book was first sent, in their trials, and the hearts of all believers in all ages, with the assurance of the final triumph of the gospel. See the Introduction.

In regard to the _nature_ of these visions, or the state of mind of the writer, there have been different opinions. Some have supposed that all that is described was made only to pass before the mind, with no visible representation; others, that there were visible representations so made to him that he could copy them; others, that all that is said or seen was only the production of the author’s imagination. The latter is the view principally entertained by German writers on the book. All that would seem to be apparent on the face of the book――and that is all that we can judge by――is, that the following things occurred: (1) The writer was in a devout frame of mind――a state of holy contemplation――when the scenes were represented to him, ch. i. 10.

(2) The representations were supernatural; that is, they were something which was disclosed to him, in that state of mind, beyond any natural reach of his faculties. (3) These things were so made to pass before him that they had the aspect of reality, and he could copy and describe them as real. It is not necessary to suppose that there was any representation to the bodily eye; but they had, to his mind, such a reality that he could describe them as pictures or symbols――and his office was limited to that. He does not attempt to _explain_ them, nor does he intimate that he understood them; but his office pertains to an accurate _record_――a fair transcript――of what passed before his mind. For anything that appears, he may have been as ignorant of their signification as any of his readers, and may have subsequently studied them with the same kind of attention which we now give to them (comp. Notes on 1 Pe. i. 11, 12), and may have, perhaps, remained ignorant of their signification to the day of his death. It is no more necessary to suppose that he understood all that was implied in these symbols, than it is that one who can describe a beautiful landscape understands all the laws of the plants and flowers in the landscape; or, that one who copies all the designs and devices of armorial bearings in heraldry, should understand all that is meant by the symbols that are used; or, that one who should copy the cuneiform inscriptions of Persepolis, or the hieroglyphics of Thebes, should understand the meaning of the symbols. All that is demanded or expected, in such a case, is, that the _copy_ should be accurately made; and, _when_ made, this copy may be as much an object of study to him who made it as to anyone else. (4) Yet there was a sense in which these symbols were _real_; that is, they were a real and proper delineation of future events. They were not the mere workings of the imagination. He who saw them in vision though there may have been no representation to the eye, had before him what was a real and appropriate representation of coming events. If not, the visions are as worthless as dreams are.

The visions open (ch. iv.) with a _Theophany_, or a representation of God. John is permitted to look into heaven, and to have a view of the throne of God, and of the worship celebrated there. A _door_ (θύρα) or opening is made into heaven, so that he, as it were, looks _through_ the concave above, and sees what is beyond. He sees the throne of God, and him who sits on the throne, and the worshippers there; he sees the lightnings play around the throne, and hears the thunder’s roar; he sees the rainbow that encompasses the throne, and hears the songs of the worshippers. In reference to this vision, at the commencement of the series of symbols which he was about to describe, and the _reason_ why this was vouchsafed to him, the following remarks may be suggested: (1) There is, in some respects, a striking resemblance between this and the visions of Isaiah (ch. vi.) and Ezekiel (ch. i.). As those prophets, when about to enter on their office, were solemnly inaugurated by being permitted to have a vision of the Almighty, so John was inaugurated to the office of making known future things――the last prophet of the world――by a similar vision. We shall see, indeed, that the representation made to John was not precisely the same as that which was made to Isaiah or that which was {107} made to Ezekiel; but the most striking symbols are retained, and that of John is as much adapted to impress the mind as either of the others. Each of them describes the throne, and the attending circumstances of sublimity and majesty; each of them speaks of one on the throne, but neither of them has attempted any description of the Almighty. There is no delineation of an image, or a figure representing God, but everything respecting him is veiled in such obscurity as to fill the mind with awe. (2) The representation is such as to produce deep solemnity on the mind of the writer and the reader. Nothing could have been better adapted to prepare the mind of John for the important communications which he was about to make than to be permitted to look, as it were, directly into heaven, and to see the throne of God. And nothing is better fitted to impress the mind of the reader than the view which is furnished, in the opening vision, of the majesty and glory of God. Brought, as it were, into his very presence; permitted to look upon his burning throne; seeing the reverent and profound worship of the inhabitants of heaven, we feel our minds awed, and our souls subdued, as we hear the God of heaven speak, and as we see seal after seal opened, and hear trumpet after trumpet utter its voice. (3) The form of the manifestation――the opening vision――is eminently fitted to show us that the communications in this book proceed from heaven. Looking into heaven, and seeing the vision of the Almighty, we are prepared to feel that what follows has a higher than any human origin; that it has come direct from the throne of God. And (4) there was a propriety that the visions should open with a manifestation of the throne of God in heaven, or with a vision of heaven, because that, also, is the _termination_ of the whole; it is that to which all the visions in the book tend. It begins in heaven, as seen by the exile in Patmos; it terminates in heaven, when all enemies of the church are subdued, and the redeemed reign triumphant in glory.

The substance of the introductory vision in this chapter can be stated in few words: (a) A door is opened, and John is permitted to look into heaven, and to see what is passing there, ver. 1, 2. (b) The first thing that strikes him is a throne, with one sitting on the throne, ver. 2. (c) The appearance of him who sits upon the throne is described, ver. 3. He is “like a jasper and a sardine stone.” There is no attempt to portray his form; there is no description from which an image could be formed that could become an object of idolatrous worship――for who would undertake to chisel anything so indefinite as that which is merely “_like_ a jasper or a sardine stone?” And yet the description is distinct enough to fill the mind with emotions of awe and sublimity, and to leave the impression that he who sat on the throne was a pure and holy God. (d) Round about the throne there was a bright rainbow: a symbol of peace, ver. 3. (e) Around the throne are gathered the elders of the church, having on their heads crowns of gold: symbols of the ultimate triumph of the church, ver. 4. (f) Thunder and lightning, as at Sinai, announce the presence of God, and seven burning lamps before the throne represent the Spirit of God, in his diversified operations, as going forth through the world to enlighten, sanctify, and save, ver. 5. (g) Before the throne there is a pellucid pavement, as of crystal, spread out like a sea: emblem of calmness, majesty, peace, and wide dominion, ver. 6. (h) The throne is supported by four living creatures, full of eyes: emblems of the all-seeing power of him that sits upon the throne, and of his ever-watchful providence, ver. 6. (i) To each one of these living creatures there is a peculiar symbolic face: respectively emblematic of the authority, the power, the wisdom of God, and of the rapidity with which the purposes of Providence are executed, ver. 7. All are furnished with wings: emblematic of their readiness to do the will of God (ver. 8), but each one individually with a peculiar form. (j) All these creatures pay ceaseless homage to God, whose throne they are represented as supporting: emblematic of the fact that all the operations of the divine government do, in fact, promote his glory, and, as it were, render him praise, ver. 8, 9. (k) To this the elders, the representatives of the church, respond: representing the fact that the church acquiesces in all the arrangements of Providence, and in the execution of all the divine purposes, and finds in them all ground for adoration and thanksgiving, ver. 10, 11.