Revelations from St John
the Divine*
Kevin S Ellis
Introduction
To
use the Book of Revelation to show how theology might be done in a local
context might initially raise a few eyebrows to say the least. By the end of
this paper, I hope that you will have cause to find an alternative form of
exercise. For, it will be my contention that the text of Revelation lends
itself to theological reflection in a local context. If Wesley Carr is correct
that ‘theological reflection is a constructed, ordered, reflective enquiry on
the interaction of one’s self and one’s context’, then John’s apocalypse
provides us with ample place for such treasures to be mined.[1] The
Revelation to St John the Divine is a product of reflection on scripture,
context and, I suggest, experience. This experience, for me, involves
reflection on the world in which Patmos man
lived, and also something close to what might be termed merkabah experiences. Scripture, tradition, context and experience
are the basic ingredients of theological reflection.
This
paper then straddles two particular furrows of theology: biblical studies and
pastoral theology. I intend to do this by interacting with the text of the
Revelation to St John
the Divine in two ways. First, by engaging with the text by using some of the
tools of biblical scholarship, for example historical-critical methods, as well
as sociological context: and second, by re-telling the story of the Apocalypse through
the eyes of local congregations, from the Parish of Matson, a large outer council
estate, in Gloucester and the Parishes of Flimby, Netherton and Maryport on the
west coast of Cumbria. In straddling these two furrows, we trust that we will
see some Revelations from St John
the Divine that are appropriate for our context and yet consonant with the time
in which they were written.
However,
to begin with, we need to say a little more about the nature of the text and
how we might understand it in general. This is important as a number of
misconceptions about the Revelation occur because of misunderstandings about
what kind of text it is. Our text firstly and foremostly obviously falls within
the genre of literature known as Jewish apocalyptic. This includes from the
Hebrew Bible Daniel and Ezekiel, and from para-biblical literature works such
as the Enochian corpus, 2 Baruch and 4 Ezra. Literature which is gathered
together under the apocalyptic umbrella usually purport to reveal secrets of
the heavenly realms, whether that is about the present or future. The material
disclosed need not be about eschatology, but can include calendaric information
or details about say the beginnings of time or the origins of evil. 1 Enoch is
a classic example of an apocalyptic text interested in astrological
information, as well as the beginnings of evil, rooted it believes in
relationships between angels (fallen and male) and humans (virtuous and
female).Indeed one might be tempted to say that the majority of mysteries
unveiled within apocalyptic literature are to do with understanding the
historical present of the writer, rather than dealing with future events. By
this, I mean, that the visions usually relate to the present earthly context;
although described in heavenly language. Such a view does not negate the
possibility that the text has meaning for the contemporary context (i.e., 21st
Century context) or a potential future event. This would, I suggest be true of
the Apocalypse of John. Thus, to understand Revelation we need some
understanding of the rules that operate within the genre of Jewish apocalyptic.
The
Revelation, in common with other apocalyptic dramas, needs to be read with all
our faculties. To read it mentally and silently does little justice to a text
that is filled with images, colour and noise.
Christopher
Rowland notes that the Revelation
[m]ore than any other biblical book…asks
us to suspend our judgement of
normality and submit ourselves to be
informed by the shock of what is unusual, for the sake of a better
understanding of reality.[2]
That
these particular writings of John ask us to set aside what we might deem to be
normality with its kaleidoscope of images that assault us when we enters it
world is, I think, taken as read. Lions that are mistaken for wrathful lambs, seven
headed beasts are not the normal stock in trade for the 21st Century
reader.
Wendell
Berry called the Revelation ‘the one great poem that the first Christian age
produced’.[3]
Indeed Eugene Petersen makes the following claim, ‘if the Revelation is not
read a poem, it is simply incomprehensible’.
The inability (or refusal) to deal
with St. John,
the poet, is responsible for
most of the misreading,
misinterpretation, and misuse of the book’.[4]
That
Revelation should be understood as poetry certainly has its merits; the genre
of poetry does call for us to suspend reality. W H Auden argued that poetry
must ‘say something significant about a reality common to us all, but perceived
from a unique perspective’. Again, the Revelation does this; and whilst we
might begin from the common starting point that it offers a unique, if at times
jarring, perspective, I would hope to persuade you that the reality it offers
is not uncommon.
Seeing
John as a poet-prophet might help us to engage with the text in a more rounded
way; but I discern in John another type of artist that creates an alternative
impression of the world. John is, for me, the political cartoonist par
excellence. Political cartoons are those which describe an event in a
particular way, using symbols/caricature which is readily accessible to those
‘in the know’; although might be described as odd or without meaning to those
outside of the group. This is picked up by G B Caird when he describes
Johannine visions not ‘as photographic art’ but contain within them ‘evocative
and emotive power… that ‘set the echoes of memory and association ringing’.[5] The
echoes of memory that resound within the text of the Revelation are from the
Old Testament and wider Jewish apocalyptic traditions. For the initial hearers
of the text, other echoes would have been called to mind, for example the real
or perceived threat from the Imperial Cult.[6] To
develop this notion of John as cartoonist, we turn to the text of the
Apocalypse itself. After doing so we want to look at how Revelation might be
read as a political cartoon within a 21st Century parochial setting.
However,
it is important to remind ourselves that pastoral theologians stress the importance
of image, experience and feelings in making the connections between the text
and context. Killen and De Beer write, ‘Images symbolise our experience. They
capture the totality of our felt response to reality in a given situation’.[7]
Passages from Revelation
I
would like to turn to passages that feature the exalted Christ, and in
particular the vision of the one like a son of man, the lamb-lion, as well as
the warrior-king. In addition, we will also look at the some of the passages
that feature the trinity of dragon, beast and second beast.
The one like a son of man
Commentators,
including Stephen Smalley, G K Beale and A Y Collins, are generally agreed that
the striking thing about this passage is how closely related the exalted Christ
is with God. I do not underestimate the importance of this, nor of the
challenge this would have been to someone like John the seer, presumably schooled
in the monotheistic sensibilities of Judaism. I have argued elsewhere that such
monotheistic sensibilities were flexible allowing for exalted humans to have
divine language claimed for them, and receive worship, without transgressing
the boundaries of belief in one God.[8]
Craig
Koester suggests that the purpose of the vision of the glorified Christ is to
bring comfort to Christian communities on the verge of persecution.[9] Koester
develops this point because the exalted figure stands amongst the seven lamp
stands, which the seer tells us represent the seven churches. This is something
that I do not doubt, but it is however the force of the image in its context
that I wish to dwell upon. Notwithstanding the fusion of divine and angelic
imagery around the figure, there is one particular item that stands out for me
as resonating with the timbre of the cartoonist. It is the fact that a barbarian’s
sword protrudes from the figure’s mouth. This is usually taken as a feature of
the judgement that is to be executed by the ‘one like a son of man’. Yet, this
needs to be off-set against the words of the figure that he is one who lives –
had died – but lives. As we shall see more pertinently when we move to a
discussion of the Lamb in Revelation 5, the Christology of Revelation holds
together the slain with the exalted Messiah.
The
‘one like a son of man’ who wields the sword of justice has been unjustly
judged by the power of Rome.
Given what we shall argue pace others
below that the unholy trinity bears an uncanny resemblance with the Imperial
Cult, there is certainly some humour in that the one who is unveiled as judge
is a convicted felon. Martin Hengel rightly notes that this is ‘the scandal par
excellence’ in earliest Christological development, rather than any progress
towards divinity.[10]
The Lamb who was slain
No
where does the paradox between weakness and strength combine so brilliantly in
John’s Revelation than in the portrayal of the Lamb.
In
the very engine room of this apocalypse, the heavenly cult is assembled, with
the seer told that none is worthy to open the scroll, which controls the
world’s destinies.[11] The
seer’s tears are broken by the announcement that the Lion of the tribe of Judah has
conquered, has overcome. ‘This martial description’ writes Stephen Smalley ‘is
taken from Genesis 49:9-10 where it refers to the Messiah’s sovereign power’.[12]
Smalley could reasonably have pointed to other Jewish literature such as 4 Ezra
(2 Esdras) 12: 31-32, 1 QSb 5: 21-29 and 1 Maccabees 3: 4-5 as pointing to lion
imagery for the Messiah.[13]
Yet
the announcement of the lion gives way to the vulnerable lamb with the
appearance that it has been slain. Just as the vision at the beginning of the
Revelation with the one like a son of man with the protruding sword evoked
images of justice being wielded by one unjustly treated, Revelation 5 neuters
normal perception of power with the image of the slain lamb.
Hearers
of the text would not have associated vulnerability alone with the image of the
Lamb. A lamb with seven horns leading the people of God would have been
familiar from Jewish tradition (1 Enoch 90:9 cf. T. Jos 19:8).[14]
The Lamb is the one who has conquered. In the midst of the heavenly court, the
very nexus of holiness, it is a creature that was once dead, and therefore
unclean, who has emerged victorious. Whilst, I do not wish to underestimate
what the passage says about victory being achieved through the seeming defeat
of the cross[15], there
is also more than a subtle irony in the fact that the Lamb’s coming before God
parodies the coming of the beasts in Daniel 7.[16] (We
will note later that the beasts of Revelation attempt to parody the Lamb). A
fusion no doubt of Old Testament and para-biblical allusion, as well as of
engagement with other Christological traditions, John the Seer has gifted us a
distortion not only of Imperial conceptions of power, but of how Messiah had
been, and continues at times, to be perceived.
This
does not take away from the image of the Lamb notions of Passover and sacrifice.
Indeed in the kaleidoscope of images that is the Revelation, such concepts have
their allotted place; but in this context the purpose of the slain, yet
vindicated, figure is not to point to the acceptability of sacrifice; but to
its depiction of what might best be described as powerful powerlessness.
The warrior-king
If
our first two images might be said to contain a critique of power, it does seem
to stretch even caricature of the third that the rider on a white horse might
in any sense be vulnerable. There are of course sufficient links between this
warrior and the ‘one like a son of man’ for the hearer to realise that this too
is the exalted Christ. The wearing of the diadem stresses the legitimate power
of the figure, and as Koester writes, ‘challenges the pretensions of the dragon
and the beast, who display diadems on their heads and horns in a mockery of
divine power’.[17]
The
rider’s clothing is dripped in blood. This is most likely the blood of the
martyrs serving to identify the Messiah with his people[18],
although for Rowland it is the blood shed on the cross.[19]
The rider exercises judgement as the rightful king of kings and lord of lords,
a title that stands out as a direct political challenge. It does so because
politics and theology are inextricably intertwined within the Revelation.
Within Judaism, it was Yahweh alone who had the right to such a divine title
and despite the claims made by the enemies of God within the text in 17: 4 and
18: 7, the titles of God can only be shared with the Christ.[20]
The
other title ascribed to the figure is the Word of God. Any superficial link
with the Logos of the Fourth Gospel needs to be dismissed. Our Warrior-King
most easily sits with the personified Word of the Wisdom of Solomon, who leaps
from the royal throne like a relentless warrior (28: 15-16). Smalley would seem
to concur when he writes that this figure represents the ‘full and final
expression of God’s will’.[21]
Whilst
the ‘one like a son of man’ and the vengeful lamb might sit uncomfortably with
21st Century sensibilities, many I suspect find the warrior motif
being applied to the Christ figure slightly beyond the pale. In some circles
there is still some sympathy with the view of Martin Luther that the theology
of the Apocalypse at best represents ‘a weakly Christianised Judaism’. This
finds echoes with D H Lawrence’s statement that the Revelation is ‘the Judas of
the New Testament’.
Such
views do not do justice to either the text or its apocalyptic genre. Nevertheless,
they are views that are grappling with the image that the text sets before
them. Corsini is not alone when he considers the image of the Rider a cruel
vision that helped make the message of Revelation one of ferocious revenge.[22]
We are helped here by the work of Mark Bredin Jesus, Revolutionary of Peace, when he argues that a better
translation of Revelation 19:11 would be: in steadfast love, he judges and
makes war.[23]
Bredin
here substitutes the word ‘righteousness’ for ‘love’. This, he does, as he
makes the point that righteousness is the opposite of violence, and associated
with ‘love, peace and faithfulness’. There are portions of both the Psalms and
the Prophets that would confirm this.
In
short, Bredin would argue that John of Revelation is using an image of the
warrior, and actually subverting the war-like image, with one who acts out of
love rather than vengeance. Whilst there is much in this approach that I like,
it has to be said that it runs the risk of sanitising the uncomfortable parts
of the text for modern sensibilities. It may be that the earliest Christians
were desperate for those who oppressed them to be punished.
However,
the idea of subverting traditional patterns of war lends itself to our overall
thesis that the text should be read, seen and heard as a ‘political’ cartoon.
One can well imagine a modern day Steve Bell or A N Other subverting a subject
in this way. This idea of subversion also appears to fit neatly with our first
two images, which do seem to undermine traditional understandings of power.
Readers of the Apocalypse should, I think, beware of neat patterns and be a
little more willing to live with the chaos that it causes.
The Dragon and the Beast
We
turn now to Revelation 13. In the dragon and the beasts, we have three figure
of caricature. There does seem to be some scholarly consensus that what we have
presented here are portraits of satan’s minions ‘incarnated in the political
realm’.[24] I
am less concerned with exact representation of each facet of the visionary
description with a political equivalent; it is suffice to say that the might of
Imperial Rome was part of the threat, real or perceived, that challenged the
existence of John’s community.[25]
The
first beast is introduced as rising out of the sea or abyss. Whilst Caird
amongst others argues that Roman power annually came out of the sea ‘with the
arrival of the proconsul at Ephesus’,
the abyss was the mythological place from which some of the enemies of God had
emerged.[26] In
Jewish tradition, the leviathan was separated from the behemoth on the fifth
day of creation, and consigned to the sea; a traditional place of chaos.
John
draws on Danielic imagery to construct his parody of the powers of the beast.
Like the Lamb is given authority from the one seated on the throne; the first
beast receives authority from the dragon, which in the previous chapter had
been roundly defeated by the archangel, Michael. The hearers of the Revelation
already know the figures to be those of limited authority. One of the seven
heads of the beast appears to have had a mortal wound, and whilst there have
been attempts to associate that particular head with one of the Emperors, in
particular Julius Caesar or Nero; one cannot help thinking that such specific
identification is lost in the midst of time as perhaps was not what the Seer
was intending. The beast is depicted as being sufficiently attractive to seduce
a number of people. John’s readers are left in no doubt though of what the
appropriate response to such advances should be.
Indeed,
in some ways, the Seer describes the beast in ways that are similar to earlier
descriptions of the Lamb. Whatever theological qualms this may or may not
cause, there seems little doubt for John the dragon and beast are parodying the
relationship and powers of God and the Lamb.
The
second beast is come out of the land, and has been associated with the imperial
cult, as represented in the major cities of Asia Minor at the turn of the Eras,
because as Caird writes, ‘in all matters of local government it could be said
to wield the authority of the first beast’.[27] With
the second beast’s influence extending over economics as well as religious
praxis, there is something to be said of such identification. Although Beale
draws back from association with imperial cult, and argues that the unholy
trinity are all indicative of the Roman state, whether this was centred on the
state apparatus in the Imperial city or through governance in the regions of
the Empire.[28]
For
John though the significance of all three figures is that they are counterfeit,
pale imitations of divinity. This is expressed in the description of the second
beast, who has two horns like the lamb, but the voice of the dragon and in the
first beast who has the appearance of being a martyr and who has authority over
the earth. For the Seer though those whose names are written in the Lamb’s book
of life are not deceived. John, in effect parodies those who dare to parody God
and God’s agents, who are the only ones worthy of receiving worship.
This
is a significant point to make in our defining the Revelation as a political
cartoon. For the Seer, Rome
was pervasive. It is a ‘system of tyranny and power’ that ‘was not resisted or
opposed by most of its subjects’.[29]
John may offer caricature, even humour, to sketch out in words the power that
he was speaking out against, but his goal is always clear: to show the folly
and impotence of any form of worship that is not offered to God. Rowland notes
that part of ‘the role of the book…is to point out what true worship is’ and to
whom it may legitimately be offered.[30]
The
imagery of Revelation is colourful and artistic. It does engage with the
senses. It also shocks. The shock that causes is probably not just a modern
phenomenon. The first hearers would probably have been jolted by the reminder
of the wounded, yet victorious Messiah, even in the heavenly court or of the
guilt by association incurred by economic association with guild smiths of
Imperial Rome. In this sense, John might properly be described as the political
cartoonist par excellence.
The
Revelation though had, I believe, another overriding objective apart from
reminding the believer, to whom worship should be offered; and that was to move
those in fear of persecution from fear to hope. ‘All is not lost’ declares the
Seer. It is to how this works out within local Christian communities in our era
that we now turn.
Theological
Revelations
In September 2002, when discussing with members of the
congregation of St Katharine’s Matson what we might do during Advent, the
Apocalypse of John was mentioned (hereafter the Revelation) by two or three
people, until the idea was adopted, albeit slightly reluctantly by myself. The
‘course’ was then repeated in Maryport in advent 2004
It was decided that the group would meet 4 times, and that
the first meeting as well as offering a brief introduction to the biblical text
would involve a discussion that might shape the rest of the course.
My own particular methodology within the group was to
attempt to make relationships between the biblical text and local context. This
is normative for all theology, and is what John does in the Revelation. Thus
the opening statements made about the text were designed to ask a question
about the experiences of the group. This pattern was repeated at each session,
and in the last two sessions done so explicitly.
The opening statements about the text of Revelation were
as follows. They were offered as themes that shaped John’s world. At no time
was there a discussion of authorship, nor was in raised in either context.
·
John was in a minority group
experiencing persecution. John himself was in exile and many of his friends had
died.
·
John’s Church had to make a decision
over whether to be part of the world or to be distinct and different.
·
John longed for a world full of hope.
It was a world shaped by justice and by what is right.
These were followed up with the question: what shapes our
world? The dominant answers were as follows.
There were 14 people in both groups, and people were
encouraged to offer more than one answer.
·
Consumerism, money, greed (9 people)
·
Love of Self (8)
·
Politics (6)
·
Hope (4)
·
Corruption (3)
·
Envy (3)
·
Carnal pleasures (1)
·
Intolerance (1)
·
Love of the outward (1)
The group wanted to look at the meanings of some of the
visionary material in the Revelation, and some of the images used for Christ.
This was agreed upon and alongside them I chose to develop the themes of
consumerism and love of self.
The group were reminded that the visions would have been
shaped by the entirety of the John’s experiences of the world, both sacred and
secular. In the course of this, the group was reminded that the Revelation is
profoundly indebted to the Old Testament, and that it stands within a
particular genre of literature.
Moreover that John’s understanding of the Old Testament
would have been shaped by particular experiences of God and of the world. With
regard to the former, attention was drawn to the Jewish apocalyptic strains
within John’s understanding of Jesus, and to the fact that John was part of a
small religious sect. As to the latter, the context of Imperial Rome and John’s
group perception that they were targeted for persecution was highlighted.
I took the issue of the Empire and the possibility of
persecution as particular shaping that would have inevitably had a profound
influence on John’s world. I then reminded the group of the two major shapings
they had said had an impact on their world (consumerism and love of self).
This led to a vibrant discussion where a number of
suggestions were given for each theme. On consumerism, people moved from the
general to the particular, beginning with large issues like Third
World debt to the lack of affordable housing. When pressed as to
how consumerism affected them: one mentioned a Christmas cake that they had
bought. It had an expiry date of 14 December, which meant that another one had
to be bought before Christmas Day itself.
On the love of self, people mentioned competitiveness and
people’s seeming need for special positions and badges of authority. The
intriguing thing was that no one made an explicit connection between what they
were saying and the Church, which of course is free of such things!
This discussion was taken a step further by my suggestion
that John’s use of images like the Dragon and the Beast should be seen as
cartoon-like interpretations of the Empire and the Imperial Cult.[31]
In the process a number of political cartoons were shown.[32]
The group were then asked what cartoons could be used to
depict the shaping which they had chosen. For the concept of consumerism, two
images were given. The first was of the hydra, which is a many-headed monster
in the tale, Jason and the Argonauts.
A second image was used of an octopus with a
disproportionately largely centre depicting the West which has a
disproportionate amount of wealth when compared with other nations and
nation-groups.
With regard to ‘Love of Self’, the group envisaged the two
letters that make up the word ‘me’. Each would be in capitals and a garish
pink, twirling around drawing attention to itself.
Working with octopus
and garish letters
The attention switched back to John’s antidote to the
first and second beast that of his image of Christ. Whilst neither the image of
the warrior-king dripping with blood or the apocalyptic imagery of the one like
a son of man were dismissed[33],
particular emphasis was placed on the Lamb seated on the throne.
We suggested that the particular image of the Lamb seems
at first to be puzzling when contrasted with the cartoon like figures of the
beasts, which represent caricatures of the corrupting nature of power, whether
secular or religious.
The group was led gently to the probability that John’s Lamb
was also cartoon-like, with the apparent gentleness of a Lamb standing as an
antidote to the corrupting possibilities of power and control. As Koester
writes, ‘clearly the portrayal of the slaughtered lamb as a conqueror
challenges ordinary modes of thinking’.[34]
For John’s community, this meant that how they were to be martyrs/witnesses
must bear some resemblance to the way in which God had been mediated to them,
through a Lamb.[35]
With this in mind we explored how the group might respond
to images of octopus and garish letters. Among the responses to the octopus
were issues of Fair Trade and within that supporting local farm markets;
practically this has meant the establishment of a Fair Trade Stall within the
Church community in Gloucester
(although not solely as a result of the group). Those who were members of the
group are amongst the most committed purchasers.[36]
Assessing the groups’ response, individually and
collectively to the garish letters is a little more problematic. As groups,
they devised an act of worship offering reflections on what they had learnt.
Not only was this a creative combination of readings, music, images, drama,
song and the hallelujah chorus, seven people spoke in a church service for the
very first time: one of whom is now part of the regular team of readers.
As individuals, whilst some of the group found the whole
process of relating text to context an uncomfortable experience, the majority have
taken part in further study groups.
A credible vision of
Revelation
There is a danger when reviewing events in local context
such as this one to be left with a warm and cosy experience that is somewhat
unrelated to the biblical text, and in short there has been no real
conversation between the text and local context. I am certain that in this case
such a charge cannot be proven.
The Revelation is a text that has been misinterpreted. It
has been used to justify violence and predict disasters of all kinds. Such do
not do justice to the widely held thesis that the Revelation is unveiling
secrets to do with Sitz im Leben of
the time of writing, rather than a date that is to be revealed in the fullness
of time. (Although, I do not totally rule out such a possibility).The text has
also been championed by liberationists and others who claim to be working on
the side of the marginalised. Rowland notes, ‘it is not difficult to see the
attraction of a book whose strengths lies in the promotion of a symbol of
defeat and weakness and which recognises the importance of power but offers a
very different perspective as to its exercise’.[37]
My
own approach is to take the Revelation as speaking profoundly to those who
feared persecution (even if not actually undergoing it). This, the text does by
interpreting how the world actually was, or seemed to be. The Revelation
acknowledged the pervasiveness of the Roman state, through both its
centralising and local incarnations. It turns normal conceptions of power on
their heads – all seven of them – as it points to a God who is able to judge
righteously; and perhaps mercifully. Such a story is seen clearly, I believe,
through the medium of the political cartoon. A good political cartoon will
always try to interpret events in the world. This is not to say that the text
should solely be read as a cartoon of this genre, indeed to a full range of
tools need to be utilised in order to read the text in a rounded way.
The
Revelation is about giving new meaning to a particular situation. In its first
context to churches in Asia Minor it offered a sacred canopy that allowed for
the events that were seemingly conspiring against them to occur; but in the
knowledge that the Christ, who had appeared defeated was Lord and King, perhaps
even God, over all. In being a medium for the creation of new meaning, this
Christian apocalypse is a good local theology. For contextual theology always
creates new meanings.[38]
Part of that new meaning was, I suggest, moving the believer from Fear to Hope.
These revelations from St John the Divine of
creating new meaning and moving people on are indeed treasures that can be
legitimately mined from Patmos man, who was,
like us, seeking to make sense of faith in a world that found it a little too
peculiar to be comfortable.
* A paper given to Cumbria Theological
Society on Tuesday 27th November 2007 at Cockermouth United Reformed
Church.
[1] W Carr, Handbook of Pastoral Studies (NPLC, London: SPCK, 1997) 118.
[2] Revelation,
(London: Epworth, 1993), 1
[3] Standing
by Words, (San Francisco: North Point Press, 1983) 90
[4] Reversed
Thunder, (New York: Harper Collins, 1985), 5
[5] The Revelation of St John the Divine
(London: A & C Black, 1965) 25
[6] R J Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: University
Press, 1993) 34-37; G K Beale, The Book
of Revelation (Carlisle: the Paternoster Press, 1999) 850-851.
[7] The
Art of Theological Reflection (New York: Crossroad Publishing, 1994) 37
[8] K S Ellis, Degrees of Divinity, Unpublished PhD (Brunel University/London School of Theology), 1995
[9] C R Koester, Revelation and the End of
all Things, (Cambridge:
W B Eerdmans, 2001), 50-52
[10] M Hengel,
[11] Caird, Revelation, 72
[12] Smalley, The Revelation to John, (London: SPCK, 2005) 130
[13] Beale, Revelation, 349 n 143
[14] Smalley, Revelation, 133
[15] Rowland, Revelation, 75
[16] Beale, Revelation, 354.
[17] Koester, Revelation, 175-176.
[18] Beale, Revelation, 959
[19] Revelation,
145
[20] Smalley, Revelation, 495-496
[21] Ibid,
492
[22] E Corsini,
The Apocalypse, (Dublin: Veritas,
1983)
[23] Jesus:
Revolutionary of Peace (Carlisle:
Paternoster, 2003) 204-208
[24] I Boxall, Revelation: Vision and Insight, (London: SPCK, 2002) 69
[25] Smalley, Revelation, 336-337 cf. Bauckham, Theology, 35-39
[26] Caird, Revelation, 162
[27] Revelation,
171
[28] Revelation,
707-708
[29] Bauckham, Theology, 36
[30] Revelation,
117
[31]
Rowland, Revelation (London: Epworth,
1997)
[33]
Indeed particular facets of both images were discussed, for example the fact
that the one like a son of man and the warrior-king drew heavily from current
messianic expectations, both relating to the dominant messiah images of king
and priest.
[34]
Koester, Revelation, 78.
[35]
The group quickly dispelled notions of ‘Larry the Lamb’ or a sheep-like version
of Babe.
[36]
Another practical result was that a local farmer was invited to our Harvest
Supper at the request of three members of the group.
[37] Revelation,
15
[38] Killen and De Beer, Theological Reflection, viii cf. Jarvis,
Adult and Continuing Education : Theory
and Practice, 42
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