Online Resource Library
Commentary Index | Return to PrayerRequest.comVincent Word Studies - Revelation 1:16 - 1:16
(Show All Books | Show All Chapters)
This Chapter Verse Commentaries:
A sharp, two-edged sword (ῥομφαία δίστομος ὀξεῖα)
The (Greek order is a sword, two-edged, sharp. For the peculiar word for sword see on Luk 2:35. Two-edged is, literally, two-mouthed. See on edge, Luk 21:24. Homer speaks of poles for sea-fighting, “clad on the tip (στόμα, mouth) with brass.”
Countenance (ὄψις)
Used by John only, and only three times: here, Joh 7:24; Joh 11:44. Not general appearance.
Shineth (φαίει)
See on Joh 1:5.
In his strength
With the full power of the eastern sun at noonday.
This picture of the Son of Man suggests some remarks on the general character of such symbols in Revelation. It may be at once said that they are not of a character which tolerates the sharper definitions of pictorial art. They must be held in the mind, not as clearly-cut symbols which translate themselves into appeals to the eye and which have their exact correspondences in visible facts, but rather in their totality, and with a dominant sense of their inner correspondences with moral and spiritual ideas. To translate them into picture is inevitably to run at some point into a grotesqueness which impairs and degrades their solemnity. This is shown in Albrecht Dürer's sixteen wood-cuts illustrative of Revelation. Professor Milligan goes too far in saying that these are only grotesque. One must be always impressed with Dürer's strong individuality, “lurking” as Lord Lindsay remarks, below a mind “like a lake, stirred by every breath of wind which descends on it through the circumjacent valleys;” with the fertility of his invention, the plenitude of his thought, his simplicity and fearlessness. But his very truthfulness to nature is his enemy in his dealing with such themes as the Apocalyptic visions; investing them as it does with a realism which is foreign to their spirit and intent. Take, for example, “the four riders” (Revelation 6). The power is at once felt of the onward movement of the three horsemen with bow, sword, and balances; the intense, inexorable purpose with which they drive on over the prostrste forms at their feet; but the fourth rider, Death on the pale horse, followed by Hell, portrayed as the wide-opened jaws of a rnonster into which a crowned head is sinking, degenerates into a ghastly caricature of the most offensive German type - a harlequin, far surpassing in hideousness the traditional skeleton with seythe and hour-glass.
Similarly, the angel with his feet like pillars of fire, the one upon the sea and the other upon the earth. If we are solemnly impressed by the awful face of the angel breaking forth from the sun, the solemnity degenerates into something akin to amusement, at the feet like solid columns, ending in flame at the knees, and at the Evangelist “who kneels on a promontory with the corner of the great book presented by the angel in his mouth, apparently in danger of choking.”
In short, such symbols as the Lamb with seven horns and seven eyes; the four living creatures, each with six wings, and full of eyes before and behind; the beast rising out of the sea, having ten horns and seven heads, and on the horns ten diadems, - do not lend themselves to the pencil. An illustration of the sadly grotesque effect of such an attempt may be seen in Mr. Elliott's “Horae Apocalypticae,” where is a picture of the locust of chapter 9, with a gold crown on the head, hair like women's, a breastplate of iron, and a tail like a scorpion's.
Archbishop Trench very aptly draws the comparison between the modes in which the Greek and the Hebrew mind respectively dealt with symbolism. With the Greek, the aesthetic element is dominant, so that the first necessity of the symbol is that it shall satisfy the sense of beauty, form, and proportion. With the Hebrew, the first necessity is “that the symbol should set forth truly and fully the religious idea of which it is intended to be the vehicle. How it would appear when it clothed itself in an outward form and shape; whether it would find favor and allowance at the bar of taste, was quite a secondary consideration; may be confidently affirmed not to have been a consideration at all.”
The imagery of Revelation is Hebrew and not Greek. It is doubtful if there is any symbol taken from heathenism, so that the symbols of Revelation are to be read from the Jewish and not from the Heathen stand-point.
But to say that these symbols jar upon the aesthetic sense is not to detract from their value as symbols, nor to decry them as violations of the fitness of things. It may be fairly asked if, with all their apparent incongruity, and even monstrousness, they may not, after all, be true to a higher canon of congruity. Certain it is that the great visible divine economy, both of nature and of man, distinctly includes the grotesque, the monstrous, the ridiculous (or what we style such). We recognize the fact in the phrase “freaks of Nature.” But are they freaks? Are they incongruous? Until we shall have grasped in mind the whole kosmos, it will not be safe for us to answer that question too positively. The apparent incongruity, viewed from a higher plane, may merge into beautiful congruity. Tested by a more subtle sense; brought into connection and relation with the whole region of mental and spiritual phenomena; regarded as a factor of that larger realm which embraces ideas and spiritual verities along with external phenomena; the outwardly grotesque may resolve itself into the spiritually beautiful; the superficial incongruity into essential and profound harmony.
This possibility emerges into fact in certain utterances of our Lord, notably in His parables. Long since, the absurdity has been recognized of attempting to make a parable “go on all fours;” in other words, to insist on a hard and literal correspondence between the minutest details of the symbol and the thing symbolized. Sound exposition has advanced to a broader, freer, yet deeper and more spiritual treatment of these utterances, grasping below mere correspondences of detail to that deeper, “fundamental harmony and parallelism between the two grand spheres of cosmic being - that of Nature and that of Spirit; between the three kingdoms of Nature, History, and Revelation. The selection of symbols and parables in Scripture, therefore, is not arbitrary, but is based on an insight into the essence of things” (Milligan).
Thus then, in this picture of the Son of Man, the attempt to portray to the eye the girded figure, with snow-white hair, flaming eyes, and a sword proceeding out of His mouth, - with feet like shining brass, and holding seven stars in His hand, would result as satisfactorily as the attempt to picture the mysterious combination of eyes and wheels and wings in Ezekiel's vision. If, on the other hand, we frankly admit the impossibility of this, and relegate this symbolism to a higher region, as a delineation (imperfect through the imperfection of human speech and the inevitable power of the sensuous) of deep-lying spiritual facts, priestly and royal dignity, purity, divine insight, divine indignation at sin; if we thus bring the deeper suggestions of outward humanity and nature into relation with their true correspondents in the spiritual realm - we gain something more and deeper than a pictorial appeal to the imagination. We grasp what we cannot formulate; nevertheless we grasp it. Dropping the outward correspondence, we are the freer to penetrate to the depths of the symbolism, and reach an inner correspondence no less real and no less apprehensible.