Tag: seraphim

Before The Throne — Chapter Five — Chariot Of Fire

This was part five of a sermon series preached at City South Presbyterian Church in 2024. You can listen to this on our podcast, or watch the video.

I want you to imagine you are in the new creation — heaven and earth have merged, and you are sitting with the prophet Ezekiel.

You are having a chat — and you are trying to explain solar power to him — we just dragged these glass panels up on the roof — and they did not just reflect the radiance of the sun, they captured it and harnessed its power and transformed it into energy we could use.

And then someone from 50 years in the future — you will have to check if this is the right time frame in 50 years… someone walks up and says “wait till you see what we did with hydrogen.”

Explaining power — energy — raw unharnessed might — is pretty tricky. I wonder how you would go explaining the power generated in atomic fission — what is going on in the heart of a nuclear reaction — and what would happen if you were standing in the presence of that sort of reaction.

Lots of the power generating options with this sort of raw energy involve bringing water into the mix and creating this steam which is used to spin things really fast and transform it into energy that flows out into the world to be used. The raw power is both destructive and transformative in ways that spread energy and turn on the lights.

Anyway… Ezekiel is doing something like this exercise in what we have just read — trying to use words and images to capture the glory — the majesty — the power — of God’s presence in words people can understand. We are going to try to build a bit of a bridge back in time as we look at his imagery, just like he would have to come up to speed when it comes to the pictures we might use.

We have been on a bit of a journey over the last few chapters, and have arrived at our destination; we are looking at depictions the Bible gives us of the heavenly throne room.

We have been trying to remap our view of reality so we can live as God’s heaven on earth people — people who have got a vision of heaven driving our lives on earth.

We looked at Paul’s prayer that the eyes of his readers’ hearts would be enlightened (Ephesians 1:18-19) — like his eyes were enlightened when the heavens opened for him and he was overwhelmed by bright light on the road. He wants us to see that God’s power which was at work in raising Jesus from the dead and seating him at his right hand in the heavenly realms — above all these authorities and power and dominion (Ephesians 1:19-21) — is at work in us as we are raised and seated with Jesus (Ephesians 2:6). We are talking about what it means to set our hearts and minds on things above — where Jesus is.

We have worked our way towards the throne room — starting with the idea of being raised and seated in paradise; a garden — a new Eden — regaining access to this sort of heavenly space that was lost and shut off by a cherubim with a flaming sword in the beginning of the Bible’s story (Genesis 3:24). And then we looked at how heaven is pictured as a mountain top — in the heavenly Mount Zion — the temple mountain of God’s dwelling place (Hebrews 12:18, 22).

Mountains and gardens and temples are pictures of heaven — they all merge — so Ezekiel describes Eden as a mountain garden (Ezekiel 28:13-14), and the temple is decorated with cherubim — heavenly creatures — and fruit trees from the garden. It is also a picture — a copy of God’s heavenly dwelling; his sanctuary — and throne room (Hebrews 9:24). Jesus invites us into the holiest part (Hebrews 10:19); where God’s throne is represented in the “copy” by this golden box, called the ark, into God’s presence; his throne room.

Well, now we’re in the throne room, and we’re looking around — and in some spiritual sense, that is also true and real, this is where we belong. This is where the Bible says we live; where we see and encounter and speak to God, and where he sees us as we approach him in prayer and worship and devotion as his children. As people who, because God’s Spirit dwells in us on earth, and unites us to Jesus in heaven — we are heaven on earth people. And our lives on earth are meant to be shaped by this throne room being our ultimate reality. But this was not always the reality for humans in the Bible. There is a time where it appears that heaven on earth spaces are disappearing — that they are totally separate — that other powers — maybe other gods — maybe powerful people — it looks like they have won. So God’s people have to grapple with where this means God is, if he has abandoned us, or if he is really there at all, and how to live with those questions. I wonder if we spend lots of our lives feeling more like this — and how we might deliberately cultivate a different picture.

This is the situation facing Ezekiel and other people carted off to Babylon with King Jehoiachin. Ezekiel is 30 years old — he is among the exiles in Babylon (Ezekiel 1:1). This is before the full force of Babylonian power falls on Israel — that bit we looked at last week from 2 Kings, where the temple is desecrated, and Jerusalem is left in ruins. Ezekiel is among the first political prisoners in Babylon — and here God is choosing him as the spokesperson to go back to Israel and tell them what is coming for them.

This is how the scene is set for his work as a heaven-on-earth speaker — a prophet — who speaks these words, that are then crafted into a book Israel will treat as part of God’s word as they contemplate life both in exile and back in the land afterwards. We get a little third person description of the scene in verse 3 to make sure we know he is in Babylon, and that others believe the hand of God is on him in this moment. He is by the rivers of Babylon and the skies open — he gets swept up into this sort of heavenly vision — visions of God — it is a vision explaining the situation of Israelites in exile.

“In my thirtieth year, in the fourth month on the fifth day, while I was among the exiles by the Kebar River, the heavens were opened and I saw visions of God.”
— Ezekiel 1:1

They are wondering if the looming end of the temple and maybe the kingdom of Israel means they have been abandoned by God; that his throne room is gone; that he has lost a sort of cosmic battle between ancient deities. But Ezekiel has his eyes opened and he is looking at the heavenly throne room the earthly one depicts.

And we are starting to get some visuals here — some colours and descriptions and an audio visual display it is worth taking a moment to imagine and dwell on and to see how it aligns with other descriptions from the Old Testament as we build a picture.

Ezekiel’s vision starts with a windstorm — an immense cloud with flashing lightning and brilliant light — there is a fire and the middle of it looks like glowing, molten metal — this is like a furnace (Ezekiel 1:4). It is a moving version of the glory of God that settles on the mountain in Exodus — where there is — again — thunder and lightning and a thick cloud — a sort of terrifying scene — awe inspiring (Exodus 19:16).

And the mountain in Sinai is smoky because God’s presence is like a fiery furnace (Exodus 19:18). There is nothing more powerful in the ancient world than a thunder cloud and lightning and a furnace — they did not have nuclear bombs and mushroom clouds — so when they are looking for a visual to describe this sort of raw power — well — look at some of these descriptions from the Psalms. In Psalm 18, David describes smoke coming out of God’s nostrils and consuming fire and blazing coals from his mouth as he comes down from heaven on dark clouds — mounting the cherubim — this is an image we will come back to — soaring on the wind, riding the clouds and controlling lightning — thundering from heaven — it is the same sort of picture (Psalm 18:8-13). Psalm 97 describes God reigning from his throne — where there are clouds and darkness again — and fire. His fiery heat is the sort of smelting furnace that melts mountains — or makes them smoke as he comes down. Mountains are the biggest thing they could imagine smelting (Psalm 97:1-5).

And — not for nothing — this raw, smelting, fiery power — approaching the presence of God — it is meant to be transformative. There is a risk it is deadly and consuming, but even approaching the foot of the mountain and this fire — Moses says — even not seeing God as he speaks out of the fire has a refining impact. God has no physical form in encounter — he was raw transforming power — and this encounter is meant to shape how they use power; their own smelting fires. It is meant to stop them forming images of gods in the world that deform them as they worship; to avoid corruption, because they are formed by this fire (Deuteronomy 4:11, 15-16).

We have got to be careful — I reckon — even as we are trying to engage our imaginations and picture this heavenly reality — realities described in picture language — and as we seek to encounter God; to behold his glory — that we are being transformed rather than deformed by wrong images.

Encountering God’s raw power — these heavenly visions are meant to transform and transfix Israel so they will worship this powerful God, not use their own smelting fires to make idols. We are not meant to make images to worship because as soon as we reduce God or our object of worship to humans or animals, or the bright lights of the sky — worshipping them — or the things given to other nations to worship — we become deformed in that worship, instead of being the people formed by God. God’s people are those formed by encountering his power and might. God is the furnace, and his worshippers are his image bearing heaven-on-earth people in the world (Deuteronomy 4:16-20).

This is the goal: to approach his presence — his throne — so we radiate his glory in the world.

This is what is happening for Ezekiel — he is learning some worship-shaping perspective that will shape his life in the world as a prophet. Ezekiel is seeing the God from Sinai, and the Psalms and the temple — seeing him enthroned — but he is in Babylon, when the skies open and he sees God’s throne on the move. It is mobile — it is a chariot throne being pulled around by these strange creatures. Now — we started with Ezekiel’s vision from chapter 1, but he records an almost identical vision in chapter 10, and we are going to pull some bits back from that to make sense of what we are seeing.

So there are these four living creatures — they have got four faces and four wings. They have got gleaming bronze cow legs and human hands. The wings are touching, and their four faces are animal and human. Now — we can get into all sorts of knots trying to picture these things (Ezekiel 1:4-10). Or asking an AI image generator to picture this description for us and they become wild and wacky alien figures — which I have done, so you do not have to.

This joins a long tradition of trying to capture the imagery here — here is someone’s attempt from the 16th century — and I reckon when we do this we might be pointing the camera at the wrong bit of the picture — but also I think we are trying to represent beings from a reality outside ours in ways the descriptions do not quite let us. Ezekiel is stretching language to its limits to describe images he saw — and there is this word that is at the heart of what we are trying to do with our imaginations this series that is important — Ezekiel is imagining and trying to describe something ineffable; something beyond our ability to describe in words — but using evocative picture language to spark our imaginations and push us to our limits.

But the thing is — people reading or hearing this vision in the time Ezekiel is speaking know exactly what he is describing. This is where we need a bridge — it is as foreign to us as solar panels are to him.

Israel’s neighbours all had versions of these winged creatures — and lots of them played a task of being the chariot pullers for god-kings. So here is an inscription image from Megiddo — a city that will ultimately become part of Israel — where a member of the royal family is riding a chariot pulled by a winged creature.

But — more importantly — people from Israel know what these four creatures are, because they are living, flying versions of the creatures from the throne room of God. They are cherubim — which is what Ezekiel will actually call them in chapter 10:

“Each of the cherubim had four faces: One face was that of a cherub, the second the face of a human being, the third the face of a lion, and the fourth the face of an eagle.”
— Ezekiel 10:14

And there are four of them because in the holy of holies — around God’s throne — there are four cherubim (Ezekiel 1:8-9). The two giant ones covered in gold (1 Kings 6:23, 28), whose wings touch above the ark (1 Kings 8:6). And there are two on the ark lid whose wings reach over the lid and touch as they represent holding up God’s throne (Exodus 25:18, 22).

Ezekiel is seeing the reality represented by these statues. This is why we are seeing four cherubim — and in his vision these are burning too; the fire and lightning that accompanies Yahweh as he travels on the cloud in the thunder is flashing among them as they speed around (Ezekiel 1:13-14). And they have got a job to do which has to do with these weird gyroscopic wheels. Wheels within wheels that are beside them — the wheels are sparkling; jewelled; majestic (Ezekiel 1:15-16). These creatures are chariot pullers — pulling this platform — on these crazy wheels that are also full of eyes. Where the cherubim go, the wheels go. There is a sort of spiritual bluetooth connection between the cherubim and the wheels of the throne-chariot (Ezekiel 1:17-20).

Above them there is this vault — a sort of crystal dome that might also get called a sea — and it might be part of what separates the heavens and the earth and the ground and sky waters in Genesis 1. The vault is sparkling and awesome.

This whole scene is vivid and multicoloured and multimedia and it is meant to stretch the language about power and beauty and grandeur to its limits (Ezekiel 1:22-23). God’s throne is on the vault, and there is the same blue crystal — lapis lazuli that Moses sees on the mountain top.

Our eyes are drawn upwards from the creatures, to the vault, to the throne, so we are not looking at the weird ineffable creatures — but this figure like that of a man. Now — it is tricky to know how to picture God — right — we are wrestling with something ineffable here because on the one hand we are told God is the one in whom we live and breathe and have our being of raw power — who has no form — a sort of infinite and omnipresent grounds of being — and then at the same time, right from the first page of the Bible we are told humans are made in his image and likeness — and here Ezekiel is seeing this heavenly figure who is human-shaped — but not human. From his waist we have got the sort of molten metal that was at the heart of the cloud — full of fire — surrounded by the brilliant light we imagined in week 1. He is radiant; like a rainbow breaking through storm clouds. Overwhelming radiance.

And Ezekiel is in no doubt that this is the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord; the personified glory of Yahweh. And so when he sees it he falls facedown — this is a picture of absolute awe-filled worship. Reverence. A certain sort of fearful respect (Ezekiel 1:26-28).

But he is encountering this vision of God’s glory not in his temple on Zion, but in Babylon.

God’s throne is mobile; it is not limited to the temple on the mountain — just like the ark went with Israel wherever they went between the exodus and the construction of the temple — God is able to move.

And actually, this encounter — this vivid vision of the ineffable God and his chariot throne in all its fiery, cloudy, lightning glory — with the colours of crystals and light and rainbows flashing around, as Yahweh is carried by his cherubim-throne pullers — this is a perspective setter for Ezekiel.

He is commissioned to go from meeting the glory of God in this vision of his heavenly throne room — in Babylon — to being sent to Israel — a rebellious nation — to tell them that their rebellion means God’s throne room is leaving the temple (Ezekiel 2:3). And Ezekiel could be terrified of these Israelites still in Jerusalem; their might and their power to harm him. But this perspective is meant to make this human opposition to God’s power and might small (Ezekiel 2:6).

And I wonder if sometimes this is the sort of perspective we are lacking — when human power, and humans who loom large in our lives, feel terrifying; like they have got too much control over our lives and our fates. We get caught up in people-pleasing or people-serving, or not being prepared to speak truth to power for God’s sake, or for the sake of the poor or the oppressed, because of the cost we might face in our earthly lives. Ezekiel’s antidote to this fear — and he is going to have to do a lot of confronting, symbolic stuff to carry this message to Israel — is this encounter with God’s glory and the knowledge that God is still enthroned and still ruling even as Babylon and its massive army crushes Jerusalem and the temple, and even as the political leaders of Israel reject his message and so also are crushed. Ezekiel is not to fear them because he has this perspective that God is enthroned among the cherubim; ruling not in a shadowy temple but in cosmic reality.

This picture of life before the throne — this encounter with the awesome, majestic, mountain-melting God — is what gives him perspective.

It is also a vision that is meant to give Israel perspective when they are in exile; when it looks like Babylonian power has won, and the gods of the nations — these other possible supernatural powers — might be more powerful than Yahweh. Ezekiel’s vision of God ruling — enthroned in heaven — even while his people are in Babylon is a vision shared in the book of Daniel — in Daniel 7 — which expands our vision of heaven.

This connects with an idea Paul touches on in Ephesians — that Jesus has been raised above all powers and dominions (Ephesians 1:19-21). It is a bit of a category breaker for us, but changing our understanding of heaven can challenge us to worship God; to fall before him, and to put the powers at work in the world — and the idols or other things we might choose to worship rather than worshipping God — into perspective.

The Old Testament talks about Yahweh not just as “Yahweh” — the name he gives Moses on the mountain — and not just as “Elohim” — a word for God — but as the Most High God. In one of the psalms we looked at earlier, he is “Yahweh Most High” (Psalm 18:13). Yahweh — Israel’s God, the maker of heaven and earth — is the ruler of all the heavenly beings, not just the earthly ones; the ruler of other powers that nations of the earth might have turned into gods and worshipped.

In Daniel, we get this vision of God ruling in the heavenly courtroom — the throne room — as the nations who worship these other powers go to war. Thrones — plural — are set in place, and the Ancient of Days — another way of speaking about God — takes his seat. It is a heavenly council meeting (Daniel 7:9; cf. Psalm 82:1). He is glowing and bright — clothes white as snow; white hair. His throne is flaming with fire — and it has wheels; this is his chariot throne like in Ezekiel — the wheels are ablaze (Daniel 7:9). A river of fire is flowing, and he is attended by hundreds of thousands in this heavenly court (Daniel 7:10).

As judgment is handed down — as God’s rule is displayed — a figure enters the throne room: one like a son of man who comes with the clouds of heaven — like Yahweh does in the visions in the Psalms and in Ezekiel. This is a human who looks like the glory of the Lord in Ezekiel. He is led into the presence of the Ancient of Days (Daniel 7:13), and this Son of Man is given authority and power over all nations; a dominion above every dominion. The rule that had been enjoyed by these other powers — now subjected to judgment — is given to this Son of Man (Daniel 7:14). As Daniel explains his vision he talks about a spiritual force that will rise up and animate armies to oppose God’s people, but the court will sit, and that power will be taken away and destroyed, and the rule given to the holy people of the Most High under the Son of Man who will rule an everlasting kingdom (Daniel 7:26-27).

For God’s people in Babylon, and then under foreign rulers, hearing these words — capturing this vision of God’s throne on wheels and God as ruler over all the other powers, gods of these nations — it is a reminder that they are where they are because they rejected God’s rule. But it does not mean their God is not the Most High, or is not ruling.

All of this could be empty if the kingdom had fizzled out in Babylon; if these words and images had just died out and been lost to history. But they have not. And while many want to take this heavenly vision and push it to a distant future with bits yet to be fulfilled, fulfilling this mission was the mission of Jesus — the human Son of Man — the heavenly human.

Have you noticed how Jesus picks up this same imagery from Ezekiel’s fiery clouds of glory — a sort of heavenly chariot — to describe his coming as the ruler of the heavenly court, commanding angels? In Mark’s Gospel: “At that time people will see the Son of Man coming in clouds with great power and glory. And he will send his angels and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of the heavens” (Mark 13:26-27).

This is not just a picture of his return to make all things new — there is a fun thing where the Greek word for “coming” can also mean “going.” In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus talks about a time when he, the Son of Man, will be like the lightning — more Ezekiel imagery (Luke 17:24). He says, “From now on the Son of Man will be seated at the right hand of God” — Daniel will be fulfilled (Luke 22:69).

In Acts, Luke leans into the coming/going idea as he describes Jesus ascending in the clouds to heaven, while the disciples gaze into heaven. Two heavenly men appear and ask, in effect, “Why are you looking into heaven?” They say this same Jesus who has been taken from earth into heaven will come back in the same way. He has not abandoned them; he is committed to this heaven-on-earth project (Acts 1:9-11).

As Acts unfolds, one of Jesus’ followers, Stephen, is killed — and it looks like worldly powers are winning. In that moment Luke tells us Daniel has been fulfilled: Stephen looks into heaven and sees Jesus there, the Son of Man enthroned with the glory of God (Acts 7:55).

Our vision of heaven is different to Ezekiel’s now because it includes this human king enthroned — as Ephesians says — above all the other powers that might try to shape our lives on earth (Ephesians 1:19-21). The writer of Hebrews describes Jesus as the radiant reflection of the glory of God — a high king enthroned in heaven, victorious and worthy of our worship (Hebrews 1:3).

This vision is meant to teach us that God has not abandoned us; that he is powerful and victorious — that consuming fire — but also that this power can now be approached without fear that we will be destroyed, and in a way that transforms us. We are invited to dwell in this power and have it set off a reaction in us — so that we are like metal that melts and is formed into living images of God; or like turbines that spin next to a nuclear reaction and turn on the lights in the world. We are invited into the throne room of God to encounter this power on the throne in ways that stop us worshipping — giving our hearts — to any other bright light or imagined power. This helps us see humans not as terrifying people who can rule our lives — even if there is a threat of harm — but to have the eyes of our hearts — our minds and imaginations — filled with the power and glory and majesty of God in ways that consume us and destroy, or refine away, the bits of us that do not reflect him, or the image of him we now see in Jesus.

I want to encourage you to pray; to enter the throne room, and to consider how when we pray we are coming to God’s throne in worship; and how when we sing — as those who sing before God’s throne; singing words like those in the Psalms that help us capture this imagery of God’s majestic power, it’s designed to transform our hearts and send us out into the world like electricity from a nuclear reaction.

September 18, 2025 Add Comment

Revelation: Pointing the lens at the throne room of heaven

This is an amended version of a sermon I preached at City South Presbyterian Church in 2021. If you’d prefer to listen to this (Spotify link), or watch it on a video, you can do that. It runs for 42 minutes.

You can tell a lot about a king — or a kingdom — by the throne and the throne room, and who is in it.

Like the throne in “Game of Thrones” — a throne made of swords — to remind anyone who sits on it their rule is secured by the sword, and will be ended by one.

“Game of Thrones” is a hyper-violent show based on a series of books that are a deep dive into the violence at the heart of modern empires.

It is a bit like the Netflix sensation [current at the time of preaching] — “Squid Game” — the hyper-violent series aiming to expose and critique the violence at the heart of capitalism, where the haves capitalise on the have nots, in the show the super-wealthy sit on thrones watching people indebted by the system give their lives in violent games, hoping to win financial freedom.

The catch is we are so enmeshed in the system these shows critique that instead of being shocked, and exposed, we find ourselves sitting in this same chair, embracing the fruits of the system and the entertainment it uses to keep us from revolution.

Empires built on immersive violence as entertainment are not all that new. In fact, this was part and parcel of the Roman empire around the time Revelation was written.

The person occupying the throne in Rome embodied the worst of the political and economic realities “Game of Thrones” and “Squid Game” unpacked, but when you were enjoying the show it was hard to escape… The throne needs to be seen from a different angle.

And that is what this Revelation does.

John’s vision now zooms in on the throne in heaven (Revelation 4:2). There is some imagery that carries over — seven lamps are blazing — seven lamps perhaps sitting on the seven lampstands —these lamps are the spirit of God blazing; shining light on the throne. Thunder and lightning are rolling out (Revelation 4:5).

There are twenty-four elders around the throne, or, literally, twenty-four Presbyterians (Revelation 4:4), and we will see more of them later. Then we zoom out on these four living creatures who are “covered with eyes, in front and in back…” one is “like a lion”, the next “an ox,” the third has “a face like a man,” and the last “was like a flying eagle” (Revelation 4:6-8). They sound weird, but we have met them before.

They were in the heavenly throne room in Ezekiel (Ezekiel 1:5). There are some little differences, but in both scenes they are these critters that are this mix of the human and beast; the same animals (Revelation 4:6-8, Ezekiel 1:10). In Revelation these critters have six wings, but in Ezekiel, they had four. We are told the identity of these heavenly creatures in Ezekiel.

These weird lion-man-cow-eagles are cherubs. Cherubim is the Hebrew plural for cherubs.

You might picture a cherub like this.

But according to the Bible, they are beastly creatures who look more like this:

And the thing is — this picture of these heavenly beings that serve and worship Israel’s God — these did not come from a vacuum. The prophets in the Bible are making a point here.

It is not that cherubim actually look like this; they are a visual commentary, drawing on the thought world and gods of the nations to make the point that worshipping lesser spiritual beings from God’s divine court makes no sense when it is actually God who is on the throne.

Remember, these empires around Israel worshipped images of beastly gods — serpents, dragons, weird hybrid animals like this Babylonian picture.

Their stories were violent and bloody and their kings were supported by beastly supernatural beings — gods — who triumphed, tooth and claw, over other beastly gods.

And we saw how Daniel makes the connection clear, even with Nebuchadnezzar running off to the wilderness looking like the beast gods (like the cherubim) Babylon was tempted to worship in the place of the Almighty (Revelation 4:7-8, Daniel 4:33).

These cherubim are an amalgam of these beast gods, only, they are not superior beings, but servants of Israel’s God; worshippers of Israel’s God. To worship them would be a big mistake. Isaiah does the same thing with some six-winged critters; the seraphim (Isaiah 6:2).

John’s vision brings the cherubim and seraphim together.

We might picture cherubs as little angels with wings, but seraphim — the word means both burning as a verb, and snake, as a noun, and there is a good case to think that seraphim are actually flying fire serpents. The word might have its origin in cobras who spit venom. These winged snakes were a popular religious image in Egypt — where they were a cosmic symbol of divine authority.

Pharaohs even had them on their crowns. But Ezekiel and Isaiah – then Revelation – picture these beastly heavenly creatures not as objects of worship, but as worshippers of the Almighty who sing praise to him (Revelation 4:8, Isaiah 6:2).

Why would you worship other spiritual creatures who sing “holy holy holy is the Lord God Almighty”?

John’s vision pulls together these threads to show the position God occupies in the heavens; as absolute ruler over the so-called gods of the nations.

But there is more, because the cherubim had a job. They were divine gatekeepers, keeping sinful people out of God’s presence.

When humanity gets exiled from God’s presence — in Eden — cherubim guard the way (Genesis 3:24). When Israel operates as God’s priestly kingdom, carrying God’s presence with them in the tabernacle, cherubim symbolically separate people from God’s presence in the holy of holies (Exodus 26:30-31). The curtain in the tabernacle, and then the temple — the one that tore when Jesus died — was a cherubim guarded barrier between God’s holiness and the people — part of it tearing at the death of Jesus was because that barrier is now broken, but part of it was also a picture of God declaring he will not live in that temple. Statues of cherubim framed the Ark of the covenant in the Holy of Holies (1 Kings 6:27). The Ark was a physical picture of the throne of God, and the cherubim were keeping the people from God’s presence, except a priest, once a year, keeping humans away from the presence of the holy, holy, holy, God.

Here in Revelation these cherubim are not excluding people from God’s presence. They are these powerful awe-inspiring cosmic beings who draw the eye — but we are not meant to gaze at these crazy critters. Because their gaze is fixed on someone else.

We might be tempted, by all this descriptive language, to keep our eyes on the weird heavenly beings.

Especially if they represent some sort of powers or rulers of the kingdoms of the world who might impact us. Where Ezekiel’s vision ends with the camera pointed at this glorious figure “like that of a man” on the throne (Ezekiel 1:26), John opens with our gaze firmly on the throne; on this figure (Revelation 4:2), who like in Ezekiel, is surrounded by rainbows and light and glory (Ezekiel 1:27, Revelation 4:2-3).

The lens zooms out on another miracle — Presbyterians moving their bodies in worship (Revelation 4:9-10). When the cherubim and seraphim worship the one on the throne, these twenty-four elders join in. Now there is a lot of debate about who these elders represent, whether they are spiritual beings who are part of the divine council that gets mentioned in the Old Testament a bit — or glorified humans — ruling with God — but these creatures have crowns, and they lay them down in recognition of God’s rule… and say:

“You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they were created and have their being.” (Revelation 4:11).

I think these are probably also meant to be spiritual beings; the powers and principalities the Old Testament pictures ruling over the nations, and those who Jesus now rules over as the king of kings and Lord of Lords.

I recognise how weird and otherworldly this all is, but remember this is a letter written to real churches in the first century and this sort of vision of the cosmos was bread and butter. Especially with an emperor claiming his ancestors had ascended to the heavens to rule as gods within a council of gods.

But there is an Old Testament background here too. Isaiah the prophet anticipated a day of the Lord, when judgment would be dished out on the earth; not just on people, but any powers and principalities — those beastly nations — who had stolen Israel’s hearts through false worship. Isaiah anticipates this day when God will come in judgment, laying waste on the earth (Isaiah 24:1), and punishing the cooperating rebels on earth and in heaven – the powers in the heavens, and the kings of the earth (Isaiah 24:21).

And on that day, the heavenly bodies — that is how ancient people viewed the moon and the sun, as part of the heavenly realm; the heavens will be dismayed and ashamed for this rebellion, and the Lord will reign from his throne. Remember this was in the Temple, on the ark, in Jerusalem (that’s how God is described dwelling in the temple “reigning between the Cherubim”), and in heaven. He will reign before the elders (Isaiah 24:23). This is not definitively heavenly or earthly, and in some ways it could be both — it is just that humans will come later in the piece in John’s vision. But, again, these elders are looking at the one on the throne. And that should be our focus. Not the weird beasties or the heavenly dancing Presbyterians, and not, in this next bit, the things in the hands of the people on the throne; the scrolls and seals.

The lens is pointed at the throne.

If we look at the other weird bits and worry about the scary stuff that worry can consume us and distract us, and remove our confidence in the one ruling on the throne. John’s lens wants to keep drawing our attention to him.

These heavenly characters are not just circling God’s throne, but the slain lamb standing at the center of the throne (Revelation 5:6); the one who sends God’s spirit into the earth; God’s life giving, glorious, presence.

The Lamb takes a scroll from the one on the throne — God, and when he takes it the elders fall before him in worship. They make us look at Jesus again. These heavenly elders are God’s servants, John also sees them serving God, before the throne, holding on to the prayers of God’s people; bringing the people of God into the presence of God (Revelation 5:8). And it is not the contents of the scroll they draw our focus to — but the worthiness of the lamb who was slain who by his blood purchased people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation (Revelation 5:9).

And made them one kingdom — a kingdom of priests who will reign on the Earth, the way Jesus is now reigning in the heavens (Revelation 5:10). The King of Kings who rules over the powers and principalities has brought people from all sorts of other kingdoms into his own kingdom of priests.

The heavenly host expands — 100 million angels join in song — praising the lamb (Revelation 5:11-12). The King. The one who was slain and is now worthy to be worshipped; to be honored, glorified, and praised in song. And then we get the super wide shot — each transition the lens is expanding to include more people and creatures — from the center — the throne — outwards; from the one on the throne to every creature in heaven and earth glorifying both the one who sits on the throne and the lamb (Revelation 5:13).

Whatever you want to make of the next bit — the opening of the scroll in chapters 6 and 7 — we are meant to know that God and the slain lamb are in control. They are ruling over what comes next.

So when the scroll is opened and the four horsemen of the apocalypse trot out in Revelation 6, they are not sinister figures opposed to God, but the ones who bring his judgment — the day of the Lord — anticipated by the prophets, and even earlier, in the law. All the plagues and pestilence and destruction the horsemen bring are the punishments promised by God for people who turn their backs on him and worship false gods in Leviticus.

The first rider brings the sword; turning people against each other; leaving us playing the game of thrones, dominating people to get what we want, like we are all caught up in a squid game (Leviticus 26:17).

The second horseman — the black horse — is a picture of economic destruction; inflation, the land working against people, scarcity, and no bread (Leviticus 26:26).

Then it is the pale horse — death and hades — bringing death; even through attacks from wild beasts (Leviticus 26:22). This is where beastly worship leads. He also brings the sword, wars, and plagues (Leviticus 26:25). There is a reminder of Egypt here too, and this is a picture of judgment, exile from Eden; curse; for breaking relationship with God.

This is Jesus bringing the day of the Lord promised by the prophets. This lines up with Jesus’ proclaiming judgment on Jerusalem as he approaches the cross, and his promise that the temple will be destroyed and God’s kingdom removed and given to others; a picture he, and John, both drew from Leviticus, Isaiah and Ezekiel (Ezekiel 9:2).

When Israel experiences this exile from God’s presence, when the sword is unleashed, in that moment, in Ezekiel, the cherubim, who had been gatekeepers of God’s glorious presence in the temple, they move from the Holy of Holies to the threshold, and some guys with swords turn up. God sends this bloke with a writing kit along with the sword guys (Ezekiel 9:2-3). His job is to mark out God’s people — like at the Passover — to spare them from the judgment that is about to be dished out. Those with this mark on their foreheads will be protected (Ezekiel 9:4). This is a new Passover, only it is happening in Jerusalem — and it is imagery we see in Revelation too. Once that judgment is carried out, Ezekiel pictures God and his gatekeepers, the cherubim, taking off; departing (Ezekiel 10:18-19).

Exile was the beginning of God’s judgment on religious and political Israel for not being his priestly kingdom — a judgment finally sealed for them when its leaders kill Jesus, and the curtain tears.

John is showing how exile in Babylon – for Israel — was just a shadow of the exile that comes when you kill God’s lamb, which comes on all the nations.

I know this is a lot.

So let’s just take stock.

In the Old Testament the Cherubim and Seraphim were heavenly beings — like the elders — powers and principalities. The Bible depicts them as the sort of beastly figures worshipped by the nations — and condemns Israel, in particular, for worshipping these beastly gods rather than the God they serve — the Lord of Hosts.

These divine creatures though, they were gatekeepers of God’s presence. They kept people out. Out of Eden, out of the Holy of Holies. And when the exile happened — when judgment came on Israel — they took off with God.

Now, in the New Testament, John is using all this same imagery to say the same judgment that came on Israel in the Old Testament is — like the prophets anticipated — about to come on Jerusalem and the nations.

Jesus, the slain lamb, has won a victory over the powers and principalities, which means the nations, and the spiritual realm, are now called to worship Jesus as king. He is creating a kingdom of priests from all nations, not just Israel, by inviting people to come out of those nations — to be marked by him — rather than the beast — and so to be saved from God’s judgment. Because when Jesus — the slain lamb — comes as judge, and unleashes God’s promised consequences — that bit in Isaiah is fulfilled — all the kings, the princes, their mighty armies and the powerful economies that sustain them — everyone not marked for life, they face the terrifying prospect of realizing they have stood against God and his king (Revelation 6:15).

And it is terrible. They do not want to see God’s face, or feel his wrath.

In Revelation this judgment — this Passover — does not just fall on Israel. It is coming for all people, and those who are marked by the lamb, rather than marked by the beast, will live in God’s presence (Revelation 6:16-17).

Exile from God’s presence or Exodus to be made a kingdom of priests. Beast or Beauty. Those are the choices.

This is the lens we are given — the lens is often on the horses and horsemen, and the punishments, and trying to figure out where we are in history, rather than on the one who unleashed them, and how we should respond.

Then the lens points at people.

Suddenly the cherubim are not keeping people away from God’s glory — people are now joining their song. First the 144,000 (Revelation 7:4). Now. Lots has been said about this, lots of people have guessed what is going on — but I think it is a picture of a restored Israel — Israelites who put their trust in Jesus — not a literal number that has to be filled up, but multiples of 12 as a picture of completeness.

This is not all the people who are saved ever. It is not those of us who are gentiles — also saved and marked by the lamb, because we come next.

This is the bad stuff in the Old Testament coming untrue; the exile of Israel, the destruction of a bunch of the tribes, and the exile of the nations and us all being handed over to other powers, and humanity’s exclusion from Eden; from life with God.

Now, all humans everywhere are invited to be God’s glorious people again; to become part of this great multitude from every nation, tribe, people, and language, standing before the Lamb (Revelation 7:9).

Calling out:

“Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb.” (Revelation 7:10).

We are invited to look at the throne and join the chorus of heaven; worshipping God as one (Revelation 7:11). This great multitude is the people saved by the blood of the lamb — like in the Passover — washed, cleansed, glorified — marked as his (Revelation 7:14).

We are invited to join in; to be saved by the Lamb, to no longer be separated from God by swords and judgment, but be brought into the presence of God — back into the place sealed off by the cherubim — whether at the gateway of Eden, or the curtain temple. Our exile is over (Revelation 7:15).

We now enjoy blessing — covenant blessing — rather than those Leviticus curses for false worship (Revelation 7:16), being led by the Lamb, as our shepherd, to living water and a world beyond curse — there is a nod here to the new creation pictured at the end of the book (Revelation 7:17).

John sees things Old Testament anticipates like the choice between exile from God, or restoration through God’s anointed king in a new Passover; or between death separated from God’s presence, and life in the new Eden, a restored creation — centered on the lamb.

John invites us to share his vision of the throne room, and to choose the throne we serve.

We might not have beastly gods. We might not worship spiritual powers and principalities — heavenly beings who actually rightly serve God. We might not even have categories for cherubim and seraphim.

We might not have a tyrant on the throne — like Nero — a beastly ruler who killed his own mother to hold his throne; who commanded citizens of his empire worship him and his ascended ancestors.

But we face the same temptations that people pulled to beastly worship by the imperial cult faced.

This was a significant pressure in the world Revelation was written to. My old college principal, Bruce Winter, wrote a book Divine Honours for the Caesars, about how pressure from the Roman imperial cult was profound for early Christians, and how this pressure was not just the sword. It was cultural. The beastly empire of Rome had a beastly violence at its heart.

Emperor worship was propped up by blood. He wrote:

“Imperial veneration was also combined with other public activities, including spectacles such as gladiatorial and wild beast shows, athletics, chariot races and public feasts, such was its assimilation into the life of cities in the Roman Empire.”

Beastliness was embedded into the religion, the politics, the economy, and the entertainment and culture. It formed the imagination of the people.

So what sort of thrones shape your imagination?

Probably not Game of Thrones — but almost certainly the world it tried to unveil — a world where might makes right and violence solves problems; a world where entertainment is embedded in the same system it sometimes tries to critique, so we are never sure if we are escaping it, or escaping to it.

These systems are so compelling — just like Rome’s culture of games and feasts — that even critiques of the system become part of the system; things that feed our hearts, but also make the people making the critiques stacks of money. It is a vicious — beastly — cycle.

And the solution — the solution offered by Revelation — is not more escapism into beastly throne rooms, or onto your couch where you join in glorying in violence and cultivate desires that pull you from Jesus.

It is to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, the Lamb at the center of the throne of heaven (Revelation 7:17); to worship him as king; to find ourselves deeply embedded in his story, having our view of the world shaped by gazing upon him. The challenge is to fill our eyes — and our vision — with this throne room. This king. This kingdom. Rather than having our hearts shaped by the beastly world around us. That does not mean not watching super violent shows, or the art or entertainment from the world, but it should prime us to see critiques and push for change; rather than reveling in the violence and misery.

We should be moved to want more of God’s kingdom to come when we are confronted with the stark reality of the kingdoms of this world.

But it does mean not just watching the world through the lenses it provides.

It means not being caught up in beastly regimes through bread and circuses.

It means finding things — the Bible, art, people who live in ways led by the Spirit — that centre your life on the throne; and finding ways to feast on those things so we keep our eyes on the Lamb.

One way I do this — and we do this as a family — is with the Bible Project. Their videos are fantastic — they love the big story of the Bible — our kids love watching Bible Project with us.

But they have also got a podcast that sometimes moves me to tears as it keeps me finding new ways to see the glory of Jesus and the wonderful intricacy of the Bible’s story. They have fantastic content on Revelation. So does the Naked Bible podcast. It gives me fresh eyes as I am engaging with God’s word, and it is full of rich stuff on Revelation going at a much slower pace than we are.

We also train our hearts as we sing like they do in the throne room — singing words joining the chorus of heaven. All the songs we sing are on a Spotify playlist so you can soak in them, sing them in the shower — do whatever it takes to focus in on the Lamb.

And of course, we are about to share in the feast of the Lamb together — the picture of a new Passover — that marks us out as Jesus’ priestly kingdom [note, we share communion together every week after the sermon].

January 22, 2024