interpretation so highly improbable as to be nearly impossible. Second, John places Christ in the final position deliberately because of our Lord’s significance to the Revelation itself, which is made clear by the doxology that follows (vv. 5b–6). At the same time, each designation has its own significance.
John first identifies the “grace and peace” as coming from God the Father: him who is, and who was, and who is to come, a designation that will occur twice more in the book (1:8; 4:8). In 11:17 and 16:5 God is designated simply as “the One who is and who was,” because both of these later references have to do with God coming in judgment. The designation itself is a deliberate play on the divine name found in Exodus 3:14, where with a play on the verb “to be” God reveals himself to Moses as “I am who I am” (or perhaps “I will be who I will be”). In John’s narrative this becomes simply a means of identification; it will be elaborated further in verse 8.
The present Johannine designation of the Holy Spirit, the seven spirits [or “sevenfold Spirit”] before his throne, will occur three more times in the Revelation (3:1; 4:5; 5:6). It is used by John only when the perspective is that of heaven. When he refers to the Spirit’s activity on earth John uses more traditional language, notably as the one responsible for his visions (see esp. 1:10; 4:2; 17:3; 21:10) and as the bearer of the prophetic word that is being spoken to the churches (as at the conclusion of the seven “letters” in chs. 2 and 3: “. . . what the Spirit says to the churches”; see also 14:13b and 19:10). The background to John’s present usage lies (typically) with two passages from the Old Testament: Isaiah 11:2, where the Spirit of God is prophesied to rest on the Davidic Messiah, who is designated by six characteristics (in three doublets), which in the Septuagint became a sevenfold designation for the Spirit (Spirit of God, Spirit of wisdom, Spirit of understanding, etc.); and Zechariah 4:2–6, where Zechariah sees a golden lampstand with seven lamps on it and with two olive trees on either side (for a continuous supply of oil), which is explicitly interpreted by the prophet in terms of the Spirit. John now blends these two Old Testament moments as his symbolic way of speaking about the one Holy Spirit. These turn out to be the first of some two hundred echoes of, or references to, John’s and his readers’ Bible, which we now know as the “Old Testament.”
In especially Christian fashion John also includes the exalted Son of God as the source of the “grace and peace” he wishes for them. Thus he adds and from Jesus Christ, who is then identified by three further phrases, each of which is especially pertinent to the “Revelation” that follows. And just as the designations for God the Father and the Spirit are derived from the Old Testament, so are these for Christ—in this case from the very important Psalm 89, which begins (vv. 1–37) as a song of rapturous delight in the Davidic kingship but ends (vv. 38–51) as a bitter lament over its present demise (from the perspective of Ethan the Ezrahite).
First, Christ is the faithful witness, language derived from (but not reflecting the context of) Psalm 89:37, where “the moon” is called “the faithful witness in the sky.” That language is now transferred to Christ. The word translated “witness” (martyrus), which eventually came to mean “martyr,” is here a forensic term, and thus a live metaphor for John, reflecting Christ’s having stood trial and then being sentenced to death. Indeed, this language will occur again only in 2:10 and 13, where it clearly refers to those who have borne witness “unto death.” Thus “Antipas, my faithful witness, . . . was put to death in your city” (2:13). In turn these linguistic realities are what caused the Greek word to make its way into English not as a word for “witness” but as a reference to someone who is put to death by others “on behalf of any belief, principle, or cause.”6
But, second, Christ is also the firstborn from the dead, language that echoes Psalm 89:27 (“I will appoint him to be my firstborn”), a passage that reflects the psalmist’s confidence in the continuation of the Davidic kingship. Here is language that carried meaning for John’s own readers but could get lost on contemporary ones, since it is based on the reality of primogeniture in these cultures, where the firstborn son was the primary heir, and thus had both position and privilege. The significance of this designation is to be found in Exodus 4:22, where Yahweh says to Pharaoh, “Israel is my firstborn son”—even though historically he was in fact second. Eventually this language was applied to David and his heirs (see esp. Ps 2:2 and 7, where the Davidic king is addressed, “you are my Son”). For John, of course, Christ is not just God’s “firstborn” in terms of position, but is especially “the firstborn from the dead,” who thus through his own resurrection is the guarantor of the final resurrection of all who belong to him.
Third, and still echoing Psalm 89:27 (“the most exalted of the kings of the earth”), Christ is designated the ruler of the kings of the earth. Given the present difficulties of the church at the hands of the Empire, one can scarcely miss the essentially prophetic nature of this final appellation. For John’s own readers it may look as though Rome were the ultimate power on the earth, since she not only ruled the greater portion of the so-called known world, but will be recognized later in the book as having dominion over the various petty “kings.” These latter John regularly designates as “the kings of the earth”; they are the local provincial rulers, similar to those mentioned by Luke at the beginning of his narrative about John the Baptist and Jesus (3:1: “Pontius Pilate . . . governor of Judea, Herod the tetrarch of Galilee, his brother Philip tetrarch of Iturea and Traconitis, and Lysanius tetrarch of Abilene”). But not so, says John—they are not earth’s true rulers; rather, the One who was slain by the Romans had in fact been raised from the dead by God the Father, and he has thus assumed the role of “ruler of the kings of the earth,” whether they currently acknowledge it or not. Indeed, later on in 17:14 and 19:16 Christ will be called “King of kings, and Lord of lords.” The present designation is therefore John’s way of reminding his readers that the “king of kings” is not the Roman emperor; rather, he is the One who was crucified by an earlier emperor, but, having been raised from the dead, has attained his rightful place as “ruler of the kings of the earth.” As such the risen Christ is in fact ruler over all those who have set themselves in opposition to God’s rule.
The very thought of this threefold acclamation about Christ—that God’s “faithful witness” is also “the first born from the dead” and has thus assumed his role as “the ruler of the kings of the earth”—causes John to burst into doxology. But typical of Johannine theology, the doxology it not offered to God the Father, but to Christ himself!—the first of many such remarkable moments in this book. This in turn sets the stage for the especially “high Christology” that marks the Johannine corpus as a whole. Thus, and now especially for the sake of his readers, John acclaims Christ in two ways, both of which are intended to turn the focus onto his readers, many of whom are already undergoing severe persecution. Christ, himself “the faithful witness,” is above all him who loves us and has freed7 us from our sins by his blood. It is of considerable interest, therefore, that John reminds the early believers in Asia Minor that, even though many are headed for persecution and martyrdom, they are nonetheless “free people” in Christ.
One should note in particular the present tense (“loves us”) followed by the past tense (“freed us from our sins”). It is of some interest that later scribes were disturbed by this apparent grammatical oddity and thus changed it to “who loved us and has freed us.” But these later scribes have missed John by several furlongs! For John’s readers, many of whom were already experiencing persecution, the first truth about Christ is that he (currently) “loves us” with a present love that gains its significance and power from the fact that he is the One who (already) “has freed us from our sins by his blood.”
All of this continues to be expressed in Exodus (now New Exodus) language. God’s own “firstborn” people, Israel, who became so by means of God’s sovereign election, have now been reconstituted through Christ and the Holy Spirit. But that is not all; the same Christ who “loves us and has freed us from our sins” is also the one who has made us to be a kingdom
