Wnyone who reads the Apocalypse of St John has to put up with a lot. Readers wade ankle-deep through blood. Frightening figures line the path. Battles of cosmic proportions seem to have no end. Again and again - although victory seems close at hand - the dark forces and terrifying creatures rebel. Bowl after bowl of wrath rains down on the earth.
The Apocalypse of St John shocks and horrifies readers. It raises questions: What time does the Apocalypse actually speak of? Does it fit into the canon of the New Testament? What does it contain, what does it reveal: a roadmap to the end of the world or - if not - good news?
That is one - dark - side of the scripture. At the same time, however, the Apocalypse of John also describes sunrises of gigantic beauty. It tells of states of happiness that - humanly speaking - no words can capture, only images. Again and again, the most beautiful and richest praises of God resound from the mouths of angels and heavenly choirs. At the end, readers breathe a sigh of relief in the crystal-clear air of that heavenly city of God, which is built of precious stones and shines like gold.
That's how contradictory the Apocalypse of John is. It is by far the most beautiful and ugliest, most comforting and most frightening book in the entire New Testament. For many readers, however, the scripture may seem as closed as a book sealed sevenfold. The following is therefore intended as a first introduction to the enigmatic world of the Apocalypse of John. Anyone who reads it needs reading keys, because - and this is also true - the Apocalypse of St John has often been misunderstood and misused in the course of history. It has been used as a backdrop for threats and pressure and to stir up fears. First and foremost, however, it is and remains a writing from the end of the 1st century AD that needs to be understood in its own time and recognised as part of a literary genre.
Apocalypticism and apocalypses
According to its conceptual world - its thinking and perception - the Apocalypse of John can be categorised as early Jewish apocalypticism. The first traces of this spiritual-historical movement can be found in the 2nd century BC and - looking at the biblical writings - in the Book of Daniel. The situation in Jerusalem is catastrophic. Antiochus IV Epiphanes pushes ahead with the Hellenisation of Jerusalem and the Jewish people: an abomination in the eyes of the believing Jews. The situation is hopeless. Neither politics nor militant resistance promise a solution. Only God can bring about a turnaround. So the limit of hope is pushed further and further out: into the hereafter! Salvation is hoped for from God alone: the elimination of injustice and justice for the victims. The book of Daniel is an eloquent witness to the apocalyptic flame that is ignited in times of crisis and burns in the hearts of Jews who are faithful to the Torah. Apocalypticism and its literary manifestations - the apocalypses - are characterised by a dualistic concept, the stark contrast between good and evil, now and then. Visions and auditions offer a hopeful prospect of the caesura and turning point brought about by God in the midst of the depressing situation. Apocalypticism is not a widespread phenomenon: its supporters are circles and groups that have been instructed in the Scriptures. This is also reflected in the special language of apocalypticism and the symbolism of the apocalypses: The meaning of mysterious images and numbers is only revealed to initiates. The stimulating frequency of apocalypticism is the crisis. In the face of impending doom, apocalypticism calls on God to intervene!
Our contemporary understanding of apocalypticism and apocalypses differs significantly from the biblical understanding. Nowadays, we generally understand an apocalypse to be the greatest possible catastrophe, doom and horror par excellence. This can be seen, for example, in the title of the film Apocalypse Now, which is set during the Vietnam War. In the context of the film, "apocalypse" means destruction, doom and catastrophe. But where the modern meaning of the word "apocalypse" ends with doom, for biblical apocalypticism, doom is only the beginning and breeding ground.
The Jewish theologian Pinchas Lapide called biblical apocalypticism an "endemic disease", in the course of which the Jewish organs of hope would become inflamed. Apocalypticism germinates in crises: it is not pandemic, but locally limited, i.e. endemic. It grows out of crisis centres. They ignite hope: everything that the biblical faith or Judaism contain in terms of hope literally swells. Not only is the crisis seen as radical and final, hope is also radicalised: Evil is completely eradicated and salvation is painted and longed for in the most dazzling colours. Biblical apocalypticism includes both doom and salvation, catastrophe and the prospect of an imminent turnaround.
The difference between our contemporary and the biblical understanding of apocalypticism can be aptly illustrated by a short story by Friedrich Dürrenmatt. In the story The Tunnel, Dürrenmatt describes a train that races faster and faster into an abyss. The end is inevitable: The emergency brake doesn't work, the train driver has long since jumped off. The train will crash. Dürrenmatt
describes a dialogue in the driver's cab of the train between the train driver and a young fellow passenger who is facing imminent death with courage: ""What shall we do?" the train driver shouted again, to which the twenty-four-year-old, without turning his face away from the spectacle, while the two clumps of cotton wool swept upwards into the shaft above them as fast as an arrow through the enormous draught of air that suddenly broke in, replied with a ghostly cheerfulness: "Nothing. God let us fall, and so we rush towards him." This is precisely the message of biblical apocalypticism: the end is not doom, but God. Catastrophe does not have the last word. Trains, people or the world may fall, they fall towards God. The end of the Apocalypse of St John is therefore not about falling and failure, but the expectation of a new beginning that God sets and creates: "Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more." (Rev 21:1)
The special thing about Dürrenmatt's short story is that Dürrenmatt changes the ending from 1952 in a second version from 1978. This ending, however, no longer hopes for a God who stands above all doom. ""What shall we do?" shouted the train driver once again, to which the twenty-four-year-old, without turning his face away from the play, (...) replied with a ghostly cheerfulness: "Nothing."" God is cancelled. The catastrophe is absolute.
Biblical apocalypticism, on the other hand, does not speak of doom. According to the Greek meaning of the word, the word "apocalypse" means unveiling, unveiling. This is exactly what apocalypticism wants to achieve: In the midst of doom, the view of an approaching salvation from God is to be uncovered. Apocalypses are writings of consolation and reservoirs of hope. They may have grown up in the face of doom, but they do not resign themselves to it. In the end, there is hope in a God who creates something new.
Author
In contrast to other early Jewish apocalypses, which were written anonymously or under a pseudonym, the Apocalypse of John gives the name of its author: John (Rev 1:1, 4, 9; 22:8). There is no reason to doubt the correctness of this author's name. John must have been known to the seven churches of Asia Minor addressed. He may have worked as an itinerant preacher in the region. He knows buildings and people, is aware of the challenging situation for the Christians and mentions incidents and events in the cities.
At the time of receiving the revelation, John is on the island of Patmos "because of the word of God and the testimony of Jesus" (Rev 1:9). The wording has triggered debate among researchers. The island is probably too small for preaching or missionary activity "because of the word of God". The phrase seems to indicate an involuntary sojourn: Even in the early church, a "relegatio in insulam" was assumed. It is possible that John came into conflict with the state authorities because of his preaching activities and was imprisoned on Sporades Island - for a limited period and without losing all his rights and property. John himself seems to hint at this when he speaks of the fact that he - like the addressees - is oppressed and must persevere (Rev 1:9).
The author of the Apocalypse of John is not to be confused with John, one of Jesus' disciples and part of the Twelve. Nor can he be equated with the author of the Gospel of John, which was written anonymously and is attributed to the "beloved disciple". According to early church tradition, the "beloved disciple" was identified with the apostle John, which must be critically scrutinised and which is hardly ever assumed by today's research. The fact that the apostles are seen as a figure from the past speaks in favour of the independence of the Apocalypse of John. Their names are written on "the twelve foundation stones" (Rev 21:14) of the heavenly city of God. John looks back to the time of the apostles. At no point does he call himself an "apostle", which - if it had been the case - would have increased his authority. Furthermore, the terminology used and the theological content of the Apocalypse of John are very different from the Gospel of John: the Apocalypse and the Gospel were not written by one and the same author.
Addressees
The situation in the seven communities addressed, all of which are located in the west of modern-day Turkey, should not be considered too dramatic. It cannot be assumed that there was widespread, acute persecution of Christians, which would have claimed numerous lives, at the time when the Book of Revelation was written. Nevertheless, the situation can be oppressive and stressful: Believers in Christ are on the margins of society. Their faith puts them on the sidelines. Two centres of conflict in particular become clear in the epistles of the Apocalypse of John (Rev 2-3).
In the midst of imperial Roman society, the profession of faith in Jesus made Christians politically and socially conspicuous. Christians did not take part in games and processions in honour of the emperor. They did not worship the emperor as God. Particularly in the last years of his reign, Emperor Domitian radicalised his claim to be addressed and worshipped as "our Lord and God" (Suetonius, Domitian 13.2). But the Christians also rejected the unifying Greek and Roman gods, visits to pagan temples and the eating of food consecrated to the gods. They suffer the fate of a cognitive minority. Social pressure grows. The economic advantages dwindle. Political pressure increases.
In addition to this first source of conflict, John recognises a second area of tension within the Christian communities. The congregations do not only react courageously and with conviction to the social pressure to conform: John mentions splinter groups within the congregations that are intent on balancing and adapting (Rev 2:6, 15). These are probably Christians who seek compromise and are intent on a reconciled relationship with imperial Roman society, who - without actually believing in the Greco-Roman gods - eat meat from the temple's own butchers and take part in public events and celebrations. John castigates this integration-minded behaviour as a lazy compromise and as "fornication" (Rev 2:14.20). He argues in favour of resolute segregation, self-isolation and social rejection: "Then I heard another voice calling from heaven: 'Get out of the city, my people, so that you will not be complicit in its sins and share in its plagues'" (Rev 18:4) John is unmistakably and radically in favour of the social exodus of Christians.
In recent years, the debate about the date of composition of the Apocalypse of St John has flared up again in research. Was the writing written (only) under Emperor Hadrian or even earlier and (already) under Emperor Nero? A broad research consensus still favours a dating to the end of the reign of Emperor Domitian. The intensifying divinisation claims of Emperor Domitian and also the testimony of the early church fit in with this. Irenaeus, for example, notes in his Adversus haereses that the writing of the Apocalypse of John was not so long ago: "But this happened not so long ago, but only at the end of Domitian's reign." (V,30,3) Euseb also assumes in his church history - even if he identifies the author of Revelation with the author of the Gospel of John - that the writing was composed during the reign of Emperor Domitian: "When Nerva had taken over the reign after the 15-year reign of Domitian, the Roman Senate passed a resolution to strip Domitian of his honorary titles and to call the unjustly exiled back home, restoring their property. This is what the history books of the time report. According to ancient Christian tradition, the apostle John returned from his exile on the island and once again took up residence in Ephesus." (III,20,8-9)
It is important to note that the - in part archetypal - form of the images and metaphors in the Apocalypse of St John creates a polyvalence that is - perhaps deliberately - open to different reception contexts and situations. It is very easy to discover oneself and one's own time in the colours and forms, figures and events of the Apocalypse. A dating to the time of Emperor Hadrian is based precisely on this: people think they can discover people and events from the middle of the 2nd century AD in the symbolic cosmos of Revelation. Here it is important to differentiate between the polyvalent permeability of the images and the truly reliable dating clues - internal and external to the text. A dating of the Apocalypse of St John to the end of the 1st century AD and under Emperor Domitian seems - supported by a broad consensus of research - very valid and convincing.
Structure
Basically, the Apocalypse of John presents itself as a continuous sequence of individual visions and auditions. The words "I saw" and "I heard" determine the narrative progression: John sees and hears. One vision leads to the next. The great arc of suspense, which extends from the earth to the heavenly Jerusalem, from the conflict to the saving solution, is decisive.
After the introduction to the book, in which John describes the origin and tradition of Revelation (Rev 1,1-3), and an epistolary - communication-supporting - element (Rev 1,4-8), the actual content of the book begins with the opening vision (Rev 1,9-20). John sees a being "like a son of man"
(Rev 1:13). John is instructed to write down the book: "Write what you see in a book and send it to the seven churches: to Ephesus, to Smyrna, to Pergamum, to Thyatira, to Sardis, to Philadelphia and to Laodicea." (Rev 1:11) A few verses later, the content of this command to write is developed: "Write down what you have seen, what has happened and what will happen afterwards." (Rev 1:19) The tripartite structure probably refers to the three major parts of the Apocalypse of John: the opening vision ("what you have seen"), the epistles (Rev 2:1-3:22) to the seven churches ("what is") and the main apocalyptic section in Rev 4:1-22:5 ("what will happen after this").
The seven epistles focus on the love and suffering of the individual churches. Christ addresses the Christians through the messenger John. He praises and rebukes. He calls for repentance. What is said to the individual congregation is to be heard by all - in the context of the seven letters. The number seven in particular emphasises the universal relevance of the epistles: the seven letters are addressed to all believers in Christ.
The main apocalyptic section begins with the throne room vision. John follows a voice that calls him up - after the epistles, which are entirely focussed on the world of the churches of Asia Minor: he now perceives the events from a different perspective - from the perspective of heaven. From the throne room of God, the events become more relaxed: The Lamb receives the sealed book from the right hand of God, releases seal after seal and sets the end-time events in motion. The seal cycle is followed by the trumpet cycle. The sequence of visions is interrupted by individual visions that summarise the events: of the two witnesses and - as the centre and heart of the whole - of the battle with the dragon. The second half of the main apocalyptic section is dedicated to the confrontation between the armies of the dragon and the armies of heaven. Again and again, the victory of God is celebrated in hymns and songs, summarising and anticipating the outcome: "Then I heard a loud voice calling in heaven: 'Now it has come, the victory that saves, the power and dominion of our God and the authority of his anointed; for the accuser of our brothers, who accused them before our God by day and by night, has been overthrown.'" (Rev 12:10)
Everything is heading towards the final battle between the two camps. But before the battle actually begins, it is already decided: "19 Then I saw the beast and the kings of the earth and their armies gathered together to make war with the rider and his army. 20 But the beast was seized, and with him the false prophet (...). Both of them were thrown alive into the lake of burning sulfur." (Rev 19:19-20) Evil is seized and destroyed without any resistance. At the end is the descent of the heavenly Jerusalem: the city comes from above, "from God" (Rev 21:2). Salvation is not a human achievement. It does not grow out of the earth by evolution. It is given by God and described in great detail. After a dramatic journey through plagues and abominations, the Apocalypse of John ends with liberating and redeeming images. The water of life rushes. Trees bear fruit in unearthly form and abundance. God dwells in the midst of his people. Tender and close, he dries the tears and removes death forever: "He will wipe away all tears from their eyes: Death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor sorrow, nor pain. For what was before has passed away." (Rev 21:4)
Reading key
The great arc of suspense in the Apocalypse of John, which leads through conflict and tribulation and finally ends in the redemptive images of the heavenly Jerusalem, represents a first helpful reading key. The Apocalypse of St John can be understood as a temporal reading arena: Readers enter the book, are confronted with their own situation in the epistles, encounter all kinds of low points in the main apocalyptic section - which are transparent for each time period - and finally reach the hope of faith set in the picture, the heavenly Jerusalem.
In the course of this reading drama, readers gain a new perspective on things. They look - with Johannes - behind the scenes. They see through the reality. John tears the mask off the face of the political despot: he reveals Rome in the form of the whore of Babylon as a blood-drunk monster that exploits its subjects. A heaven arches over everything that - silently and quietly in the background - weaves salvation history and ultimately creates redemption. At the end of the text, readers are released back into their world changed: into a world in which injustice still prevails, but which is now given a different perspective of hope. "There will be no more night, and they will need neither the light of a lamp nor the light of the sun. For the Lord their God will shine upon them, and they will reign for ever and ever." (Rev 22:5) The Apocalypse of John contains and offers images that transform, strengthen, comfort and encourage us to persevere.
Johannes does not argue. He paints and installs a colourful cosmos of images, numbers, shapes, colours and symbols. The Apocalypse of St John cannot be fully understood using logic and reason alone. It appeals to the senses. Some things even seem illogical and absurd: in the course of the various plague cycles, things are destroyed that have actually already been destroyed. How can we imagine locusts wearing helmets? John exaggerates and repeats, models and caricatures. What the head cannot grasp, the heart and emotions may understand. Johannes stirs up fears and caresses tenderly, he admonishes and comforts. His aim is to appeal to readers through visionary imagination and sensual sympathy.
This is made clear not least by the fact that the Apocalypse of St John is to be read aloud. At the beginning of the book, the one reader (in the singular) and the many listeners (in the plural) are deliberately praised (Rev 1:3). The appropriate mode of perception for the Apocalypse of John is closed eyes. The Apocalypse relies on the senses and
puts theology in the picture.
In the course of history, people have often come up against the apocalypse. Where is God's mercy? Are these not overly cruel and bloodthirsty images? Is the Apocalypse rightly included in the canon of the New Testament? In the Eastern Church, the Apocalypse of John - as much as its canonical claim is fundamentally recognised - is still not read out in church services today.
It may help to realise that John is writing for the victims of history. The events are consistently described from the perspective of the losers and the disenfranchised. The promise is made to them: "Behold, I am coming soon, and with me I will bring the reward, and I will give to everyone according to his labour." (Rev 22:12) They are the ones who cry out: "How long, O Lord, holy and true, do you delay in passing judgement and avenging our blood on the inhabitants of the earth?" (Rev 6:10) It is no coincidence that the Apocalypse of St John developed its power and an impressive history of impact in contexts of oppression: in Latin American grassroots communities, in spirituals and gospels, in prisons and concentration camps. The victims of history appreciate the content of the Apocalypse. They discover(ed) - perhaps more easily than readers in cosy security - the comforting potential of this revelation. Theologically, the Apocalypse of John leaves many questions unanswered. The image of God seems one-sided and invites contradiction: too much judgement, too much punishment, too much revenge... And yet the Apocalypse of John - in a disturbing radicalisation of reality and through a debatable pointing of the theology - puts the early Christian hope into the picture: at best, the penultimate word belongs to the downfall. The last word of God - in the Apocalypse of John and in the entire New Testament - is: "Behold, I make all things new." (Rev 21:5)
