Revelation 5:6-7 And I beheld, and, see, in the middle of the throne and of the four beasts, and in the middle of the elders… The first impression of these words must have been one of the most startling originality. To that old world the idea of a lamb on a throne was a contradiction in terms. I do not mean that the ancient earth was a stranger to gentleness. To combine in one nature the elements of the lion and of the lamb would be as natural for Livy as it was for the writer of the Apocalypse. But the old Pagan world, like the pre-Christian Jewish world, could never say of this element of gentleness, "Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory"; the kingdom, the power, and the glory were not for it. The part of man's nature reserved for them was the self-asserting part. No nation that I know had a lamb as a symbol of its greatness. The Roman would have understood an eagle on the throne, for his ideal was the soaring of ambition. The Jew would have understood a lion on the throne, for his Messiah was a physical conqueror. But the lamb was ever victim, the symbol of the vanquished, the sign of the dependent soul. Its place was not the throne, but the altar; it could never be the emblem of dominion. It suggests to us that even in our days we have a strong view of Christ's exaltation. What is our view of Christ's exaltation? It is that He has vanquished His Cross, ceased to be a servant, and become once more a king. St. John says it is the Cross itself which has been exalted, it is the Servant Himself who has been ennobled. No one will deny that at the present hour Christ occupies a different position in the world from that which He held in the first century of our era. He has passed from the foot to the head of the social ladder; He has become the name that is above every name. This will be admitted by all classes — believing and unbelieving. What is the cause of this transformation? It is that Christianity exerts more physical power over the world in our days than it did in the days of St. John? Assuredly not. In point of fact it does not exert more physical power. There are laws in every Christian land as to the regulation of Christian worship, but no individual man is compelled to worship. Why then is it that, in some sense, men of every creed and of no creed bow down before the name of Jesus? It is because the thing which the old world disparaged is the thing which the new world prizes. We are living after the resurrection; but let us never forget that it is the resurrection of the Crucified. The Christ who has risen from the grave is not Christ who has triumphed over suffering; it is a Christ in whom suffering has triumphed. And let us begin by asking what was that kingdom which the seer of Patmos had in his mind when he claimed for Christ the throne of universal dominion. If the empire to be conquered be a physical one, it is not a lamb that will do it. No man who looked for a physical conquest could for a moment have conceived the simile of a world held in restraint by the power of a sacrificial life. But suppose now we test the logic of St. John's words by another empire. For there is another empire — a kingdom more unruly than the physical, more hard to subdue and more difficult to keep; it is the dominion of the human heart. The kingdom to be conquered, then, is the heart; we may consider this as settled. The next question is, How is the conquest to be made? Now, at the time when St. John wrote there had already been three attempts to deal with the problem of the heart. They may be described under the names Stoicism, Buddhism, and Judaism. Stoicism proposed to quell the passions of the heart by plucking out the heart altogether; it sought to get rid of temptation by getting rid of feeling. Buddhism proposed to quell the passions of the heart by teaching that the heart itself was a delusion, that every pursuit of human desire ended in the discovery that the object was a shadow. Judaism proposed to quell the passions of the heart by the restraining hand of fear; it proclaimed the presence of a lawgiver; it set up an embankment against the flood;. it kept the tree of life by the cherubim and the flaming sword. Now, to these three methods there is one thing in common — they all achieve their end by contracting the object of their search. Their aim is to conquer a certain tract of country; they do conquer it, but they reduce it to the ashes in the process. Can any of these systems be said to possess the throne of the heart? It is a conquest without a kingdom, a victory without a prize, a triumph that has been only purchased by the mutilation of what was made to be beautiful. Now, this is not the conquest which any man desires. Even in the physical sphere, what a potentate seeks is an extended, not a contracted possession. In the sphere of the heart it is the same. The reason why we object to lawless passion in the soul is that it contracts the soul. We do not want to cure either by plucking, withering, or stunting the flower; we wish to expand it. We wish to cure lawless passion on the homoeopathic principle — by creating passion on the other side. It is more life and fuller that we want. You want a counter-passion, an opposing attraction, a positive stimulus pushing the other way. The desire of the flesh can only be met by the desire of the spirit — the thing called love. Now, remember that to St. John light is ever the analogue of love. He applies the two names as synonymous descriptions of God. And why? Because to his mind there was an identity between the process of the redemption of the flower by light and the redemption of the heart by love. The light conquers the flower. It conquers, not by contracting, but by expanding the flower. But there is one other thing which must be added to this; it conquers by dying for the flower; ere it can bring out the bloom it must itself be slain. For, what is the process by which the flower is kindled? It is an act of death on the part of the kindling substance. So far from waiting till it grows, it must itself be the principle of its growth. It must go down to it in the dark and in the cold, must take part in its darkness and its coldness. If it reaps the glory of its resurrection, it is because it shares the ignominy of its grave. It sits upon the throne by reason of its sacrifice. Such is the thought which St. John sees in light and transfers to love. He sees Christ sitting on the throne of human hearts — King, by the most infallible mode of conquest, and by a conquest that enhances the value of the possession. (George Matheson, D. D.) Parallel Verses KJV: And I beheld, and, lo, in the midst of the throne and of the four beasts, and in the midst of the elders, stood a Lamb as it had been slain, having seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven Spirits of God sent forth into all the earth. |
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