The people of God in Revelation 7

The lectionary reading for All Saints in Year A is Rev 7.9–17—an extraordinary vision of the people of God, which begins at the start of the chapter, in the interlude between the opening of the sixth and seventh seals. Our video discussion is linked below, followed by an extract from my commentary on Revelation 7.

We explore the issues in understanding Revelation, and what puts people off—but also the remarkable power of reading and understanding this text. You need to be aware of the density of OT allusions, the cultural context, and how metaphors work. But there are also big quick gains to be made—and the text has great power to teach and to move people, engaging head and heart.

The article on the lists of the Twelve Tribes that James refers to is here.

You can find my Grove booklet on Kingdom, Hope, and the End of the World here.

And the commentary on the gospel reading Matt 5.1–12 is here.

and the video discussion is here.

Commentary on Rev 7.9–17

9–10. After this, that is, John’s hearing the enumeration of the people, he now looked, and what he sees is striking and surprising. The great multitude that no-one could count…from every nation sounds like the fulfilment of the promise to Abraham in Gen. 13:16, 15:5 and 17:4. John reminds us that his vision continues from his position in heaven, since this crowd is before me as they are standing before the throne. Lest we think that the scene around the throne is getting rather crowded, the point is more theological than geographical: here is the answer to the question ‘Who can stand…?’ from 6:17. Rather than fleeing fearfully from God, here are people who stand with confidence, joy and praise in his presence.  On the fourfold phrase every nation, tribe, people and language see the comment on 5:9. 

The crowd are wearing white robes, the apparel of those in Sardis who have kept faith (3:4), promised to those who ‘conquer’ (3:5), and the clothing of those under the altar (6:11). We will learn in v. 13 how they have merited this sign of purity and honour. The palm branches which they hold could (along with their attire) simply suggest pagan acts of worship, but it is also an echo of Ps. 118:27, a psalm used in celebration of the feast of Tabernacles, when the people remembered the presence of God with them as they journeyed through the desert from slavery in Egypt to the promised land. But it is read through a distinctively Johannine lens; John’s gospel alone specifies that at Jesus’ triumphal entry the branches were from the palm tree (John 12:13) and it is his account which gives us the name Palm Sunday. The crowd’s praise here Salvation to our God! continues to echo Ps. 118 (v. 25) and recollects the Palm Sunday crowd’s acknowledgement of Jesus as the coming king who brings God’s salvation. Now, as then, it is the lamb who saves as well as the one seated on the throne; the high Christology of Revelation matches the high Christology of John’s gospel. 

11–12. The uncountable host of angels that we met in 5:11 once more join in praise with elders and the four living creatures and provide a heavenly counterpart to the uncountable human crowd. But this time it is clear that they are completely aligned with the human worshippers, as they fell down on their faces, prostrating themselves before the throne just as the elders had done (5:14) – they are closer to humanity than to divinity (cf. 19:10). Their chorus of praise clearly echoes the praise in Rev. 4–5:

Although the cumulative impression is more important that the individual items, the terms in the sevenfold praise here matches the sevenfold list in 5:12, with ‘thanks’ in place of ‘wealth’. It is striking that, where we might consider gratitude to be the province of the crowd of people who have themselves been saved, the angelic crowd is also in awe of God’s saving power and its benefits. The mystery of the redemption that is ours in Jesus is a wonder that ‘even angels long to peer into’ (1 Pet. 1:12).

13–14. The second half of John’s vision in this interlude is itself in two parts; he turns from recounting what he has now seen to recounting his dialogue with one of the elders which offers a further explanation of scene before him. The introduction to the whole section (7:1–3) has linked this to the preceding vision of the four horsemen. The enumeration of the tribes has introduced the exodus desert theme also alluded to in the praise in 7:10. The praise of the angels has tied the scene back to the worship of Rev. 4 and 5 And these next verses draw on a range of Old Testament hopes to point forwards to the final vision of Rev. 21. The text is developing into a rich and interwoven tapestry where each part has threads connecting it to all other parts of the book. 

Rhetorical questions feature in several Old Testament prophetic texts (Jer. 1:11, 13; 24:3; Amos 7:8; 8:2, Zech.  4:2; 5:2) and occur at 5:2 (‘Who can open?’) and 17:7 (‘Why are you amazed?’) as well as here. In each case they serve to move the plot along and lead to a new disclosure or explanation. The question of one of the elders to John elicits a confession of ignorance, so the elder then answers his own question. The mention of the white robes in the question emphasizes the importance of this as their distinctive feature, which comes to define them in the answer. And he not only asks who they are, but where did they come from, picking up on John’s surprised ‘Behold’ when he first turns to look in 7:9.

The fact that they have come out of the great suffering cannot mean ‘They have been removed from the suffering and avoided it’ (as the theory of ‘The Rapture’ supposes, where Christians are removed to heaven before the ‘tribulation’), partly because the grammar does not allow it, partly because John is already in ‘suffering’ (thlipsis, the word translated ‘tribulation’ in older English versions, 1:9), partly because of the teaching of the rest of the New Testament that Christians will suffer (Matt. 5:11; Acts 14:22, the latter also using thlipsis), and partly because of the close association between their suffering and the suffering of Jesus as the slain lamb. The servants of God are protected from the wrath and judgement we see in Rev. 6, but endure the tribulation that comes from being faithful – which means that these two things are quite distinct.

For Daniel, the ‘great suffering’ would be an intense time of distress immediately preceding the end and the resurrection of all the dead, through which those ‘whose name is written in the book’ would be delivered. But as we shall see clearly in Rev. 11–12, John reconfigures Daniel’s understanding of this time; it now becomes the time from Jesus’ death, resurrection and exaltation all the way until he returns again, so it is the time in which John and his readers (and us) are already experiencing. 

It is possible that having washed their robes and made them white signifies the salvation of this group by means of their own martyrdom, so that the blood of the lamb is the virtue of having stayed faithful to death as Jesus has. But the promises they receive are the promises for all God’s faithful people, and the wearing of white is granted to all, not just those who are martyred. Besides, Revelation nowhere suggests that anyone stands before God by virtue of their own achievements; from the beginning it is Jesus’ death (‘blood’) which forms us as a ‘kingdom and priests’ (1:5–6). Enduring suffering out of faithfulness to Jesus is the right and natural response to what he has done for us, not an attempt to win his favour. 

Some suggest that the washing points to baptism, since it is described as a single action. But elsewhere this washing is referred to as a process (3:4; 22:15) and it would be better to understand the practice of baptism following by being clothed in white as referring to this verse rather than the other way around. The paradox of making something white by washing in something red which would naturally cause staining captures the paradox of the cross – that something apparently shameful and unclean (Num. 35:33; Deut. 21:23) should bring honour and purity. It is the death of Jesus for us which give us the purity, holiness and honour signified by the wearing of white, and this alone which allows us to stand in the presence of God himself. 

15. The elder again repeats that those in white are before the throne, that is, in God’s holy presence, but now locates it (for the first time in Revelation) within a heavenly temple, continuing the line of thought we saw in the reference to the ‘altar’ in 6:9. The fact that they serve him uses the language of both worship and practical service both inside and outside the sanctuary (Exod. 3:12; Deut. 6:13), though this is distinctively the role of the priests (Heb. 8:5) and in the New Testament such priestly service describes the offering of our whole lives as a sacrifice to God (Rom. 12:1). 

The mention of pitching his tent recalls both the dwelling of God with his people in the tabernacle in the wilderness and the reuse of this image to describe the incarnation in John’s gospel where the phrase ‘the word came and dwelt among us’ could be rendered ‘pitched his tent among us’ (John 1:14). Here, though, the tent is pitched over them, and given the theme of protection through being marked with the seal at the start of the chapter, and in the verses that follow, this is the most likely meaning. The phrase is drawn from the promise in Ezek. 37:27, but the goal there is that the nations will know that Israel is holy, whereas now it is people from the nations themselves that experience God’s holy presence sanctifying them. 

16–17.  The promise that they will never hunger nor thirst has general significance in the light of the threat of famine and shortages in 6:5–6. These were also particular threats both in the wilderness wandering (Exod. 16:3; 17:3) and in times of war and oppression (Deut. 28:48). But the promise here has been adapted from the promise of restoration to Israel in Isa. 49:10 and continues with the mention of springs of living water. In the Old Testament, God is the true shepherd of Israel, in contrast to the false and unfaithful leaders who neglect the people or lead them astray (Ezek. 34:1–4; Jer. 23:1–4), and Jesus both sees the people as ‘sheep without a shepherd’ (Matt. 9:36; Mark 6:34) and offers himself as the good shepherd (John 10:11, 14), fulfilling the promise of God and of his promised Davidic king (Ezek. 34:11, 23). In a wonderful Johannine inversion of imagery, Jesus is both the lamb (John 1:29) and the shepherd. In the Old Testament and here, shepherding can be a positive, pastoral thing (Ps. 23:1–2) or a challenging one (Ps. 2:9; Rev. 2:27; 12:5; 19:15).

The springs of living water (again from Isa. 49:10) are a typically Johannine motif; Jesus offers living water to the woman of Samaria (John 4:10) and to all who believe (John 7:38), in fulfilment of Ezekiel’s vision of the river of life flowing from the new temple (Ezekiel 47:1–12). The metaphor is, in ordinary speech, the equivalent of the English ‘running water’ and so is the opposite of standing pools of water. But the fact that water brings life to plants and animals creates the additional metaphorical meaning – not just ‘water that has life’ but ‘water that brings life’. The promise that God will wipe away every tear from their eyes comes from Isa. 25:8, and is only fulfilled when not only grief but death, the cause of grief, is finally done away with (21:4).

All these hopes are fulfilled in the coming of the New Jerusalem from heaven to earth – but they are also transformed and surpassed by it. Here those before the throne enjoy protection but there God’s sheltering presence extends over the whole city (21:3). Here the sun will not harm them, but there is no more sun, since God and the lamb provide all the light that is needed (21:23). Here they are led to springs of living water; there they live by the waters of the river of life. 

8:1. After the long interlude of Rev. 7, the sequence from Rev. 6 resumes with a statement When he opened which is nearly identical to the opening of the first five seals. After all the noise and clamour of worship in Rev. 4–5 and then the chaos of Rev. 6 and the counting and praising of Rev. 7, the declaration of silence comes as a surprising disruption to the narrative and makes the reader or hearer pause. Silence can simply indicate that no-one knows what to do or how to react now that the seals are all opened. But within the narrative sequence of the seals, this is the end of the series of seven, which has been building to the climax of God’s final judgement on the world, so the silence is best understood as a sign of the end of all things. The prospect of judgement should make all the world fall into silence (Zech.  2:13; Rom. 3:19), and there was a Jewish tradition that the age to come would be marked by a return to the primeval silence before God spoke the world into being (see 4 Ezra 7:30). 

Half an hour indicates a finite period of time, but it is also a split time, like the half-week of time, times and half a time. Splitting a period of time in half indicates a transition, a sudden change of direction or rescue in the middle – so the judgement of God comes on Egypt at ‘half night’ (Exod. 12:29), usually translated ‘midnight’. We have glimpsed God’s dealings with the world, and the end, but there is more yet to be seen and revealed. Within the sequences of John’s visions, the silence creates space for hearing the prayers of the saints in v. 4; silence as a sign of reverence as prayers are offered was part of Greek, Roman and Jewish practice.

Theology

The interlude in Rev. 7, between the opening of the sixth and seventh seals, is clearly connected with the preceding six seals, and both fills in details from a fresh perspective and answers the question posed at the end of the sixth seal: ‘Who can stand?’ The four winds are closely connected with the four horseman, and the focus here is less on the destructive chaos that is unleashed and instead on God’s act of protection of those who have remained faithful to him, using imagery from the destruction of Jerusalem that led to the exile.

John’s vision here offers a three-fold picture of the people of God which are interrelated. The first is of a people looking like an army ready for spiritual warfare as they endure the intermediate time between their release from slavery and before their entry into the promised land, recast by John to refer to the period from Jesus’ death, resurrection and exaltation until his return and the renewal of all things. The second is of this people Israel now drawn from all nations of the earth, ‘out of every nation’ in terms of having members from every nation rather than being a nation set apart by national and ethnic boundaries. They are a people caught up in the praise of the one on the throne and of the lamb that we encountered in Rev. 4–5. The third portrait is of this people having come through intense suffering – not the suffering brought about by God’s wrath and judgement, but the ‘tribulation’ that comes from staying faithful to the testimony of the lamb who was slain in the face of relentless opposition. They are protected from divine judgement, but nevertheless endure suffering at the hands of human power; chapters 6 and 7 together function as a narrative exposition of Jesus injunction in Matt. 10:28. ‘do not fear those who harm the body, but God who can destroy the soul’.

Together, these portraits give us a picture of a people in receipt of God’s grace and responding to it. In contrast to those who, in desperation, cry to the rocks and mountains for protection (6:16), the servants of God wait for the gift of protection that comes from God’s sealing of them. They stand in white before the throne because of the gift of the blood of the lamb, by which they have been purchased as a kingdom of priests for God (5:9). And their response to this gift is to remain faithful, just as Jesus did, and be ready to live a disciplined life of obedience. The holy warfare for which they are prepared is their non-violent witness to Jesus, even to the point of death.