Revelation 6:9-11. "When Will The Despot Shed Blood?"

This Sunday sermon, based on Revelation 6:9-11, was preached at Grace of God Lutheran on August 27, 2023. We marked the festival of the martyrdom of John the Baptist.  The other readings this Sunday were Deuteronomy 32:39-43 and Matthew 14:1-12. Scripture selections come from the New International Version. 

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Transcript

When Will the Despot Shed Blood?

Revelation 6:9-11

Grace and peace to you in Jesus’ name, friends. Amen.

The book of Revelation. Intimidating stuff! I have preached over a hundred sermons, and yet I’ve only preached on a text from Revelation once before. I’ve mentioned Revelation, I’ve brought Revelation in, but I’ve very rarely preached on it.

Without a good handle on the rest of Scripture, Revelation can be confusing. To preach on Revelation, I have to assume that my audience has a lot of background Biblical knowledge. Because Revelation is correctly placed as the last of the books of the Bible. And it should be read, maybe not as the very last book, but certainly late. You need to have your feet solidly planted to tackle Revelation. One foot solidly planted on the story that the Bible tells: The narrative which begins with the world’s beginning, which traces world history, which finds its turning point in the life of one man, Jesus of Nazareth, God become flesh, and the spread of the message which he proclaimed. One foot planted on that. The other foot, planted solidly on the answers to these questions, which we find ourselves asking because of this story. Who exactly is Jesus? Who is God? Who are we? How does God interact with us? The answers to these, and other, questions are given in that story, and we call those answers doctrines. 

If you don’t know the story, and you aren’t clear on those fundamental questions and answers, Revelation can wait. Because here’s something I’ll assert for you. When you come to Revelation with that grounding, you find that there is nothing taught in it which is not taught elsewhere in Scripture. No new doctrines are introduced in Revelation. New information? In a sense, yes. New pictures and illustrations of the story and the teachings? Yes. But the book of Revelation is, fundamentally, an epilogue. The wrapping-up of the story. You don’t introduce new characters in an epilogue. You don’t introduce a new conflict. Revelation simply gives new perspectives on things about which we are already taught in other portions of the Bible. And Revelation - this is another misconception about it - it is not a book solely about the future. When John wrote it, he said that this vision was given to him by Jesus to show him, this is the very first verse of the book, “what must soon take place.” Soon. See: What Revelation pictures was already occurring at the end of John’s life, two thousand years ago, and has continued to occur over these past two millennia, and will occur until Jesus returns.

After we wrap up our Sunday Bible study on the Pharisees, we’ll study some of Revelation. Today, I don’t intend to do a ton of exposition on Revelation as a larger book. If you want a little Revelation teaching today, check out the helpful outline of it in your service folder. Today, I’ll focus specifically on the verses we heard in our second reading; chapter six, verses nine to eleven. In particular, I want to talk about the part where we heard frustrated people urging a despot to shed blood.

I’m not talking about our Gospel reading. That is what we heard happen there, of course. A disgruntled autocrat and his sister-in-law-turned-wife (their relationship is actually even more tangled than that, but I don’t have time this morning) - they get frustrated because John the Baptist, Jesus’ cousin (not the same John who recorded Revelation), he won’t stop publicly and privately condemning their sinful relationship. So this Herod (known better in history as Herod Antipas) arrested John, and went back and forth on whether to kill him, until one day his stepdaughter so thrilled him with a striptease at a party that Herod was willing to let John die. (It’s worth noting here: The Bible recounts some truly messed-up stories.  Our lives, with all their sinful messes, are nothing surprising to our gracious God.) 

Herod Antipas was, of course, simply following in that grand tradition of dictators and strongmen all throughout history, wherein they murder those who would contradict the big man. Sulla and Marius; Caligula; Dong Zhuo; Mao; Idi Amin; Stalin; Pinochet. Herod was no special case. In fact, his reluctance to kill John in the first place should probably be noted as remarkable self-control from someone who could act with impunity. 

We call such rulers despots, generally. This kind of ruthless, unprincipled autocrat. But the word despot itself is originally a Greek word that had no negative connotation. In fact, it’s the very word which addresses God in our second reading. Your English Bible reads this way; “How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you avenge our blood?” That title, Sovereign Lord, is just one Greek word; despotes. 

I’m going to give you a little translation philosophy education around that word. The Old Testament - the first two thirds of your Bible - was written in Hebrew. The New Testament - the latter third - was written in Greek. 

Before the New Testament was written, the Old Testament was translated into Greek from Hebrew. That translation was called the Septuagint. And in the Septuagint, a particular Hebrew name for God, Yahweh sabaoth, “the LORD of armies,” was translated into Greek simply as, “despot.” That Hebrew title denotes God as the one who commands the angelic armies of heaven. He is the commander-in-chief of the celestial armies, the unseen spirits whom the Bible promises are continually looking over you. The mission of heaven’s army is very simple: To serve and protect his people, the Christian church. As the book of Hebrews says, “All angels are ministering spirits, sent to serve those who will inherit salvation.” 

“Sovereign LORD” is one traditional translation of that Hebrew title. Some newer Bible translations render it, “LORD Almighty;” some older ones, “LORD of hosts.” But this is the name which John hears spoken in heaven, and which he records as despotes. “Sovereign Lord.” “Lord of hosts.” “God of heaven’s armies.” “Commander-in-chief of the greatest fighting force the universe will ever know.” That’s the God to whom these people John sees are crying out. So, who are these people? And what is it they want God to do?

John identifies them for us in verse nine, “When he opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slain because of the word of God and the testimony they had maintained.” “The fifth seal.” One of John’s visions in Revelation involves Jesus breaking open seven seals on a scroll to unravel it. The scroll represents knowledge of the future. The seals, when they are opened, produce visions of distant conflict, conflict close to home, economic distress, death, persecuted Christians, natural disaster, and God’s silence. These are the “seals” on the future.

These things will be seen before the world’s end. Indeed, they have always been a part of our world. Conflicts and famines, persecution of God’s people, natural disaster, and God’s apparent silence in the face of it all. What we learn from this vision is that, without Jesus, we will only ever see those things. The true future - the future in which Christ will return as the victor over sin, death, and the devil - that would be hidden from us behind these seals. Only Jesus can break open these seals and show us the victory coming behind them.

But again - I want to focus on this seal, and these verses. One thing which can block our vision of the future is the persecution God’s people face. When we suffer, or we see other Christians suffering, such troubles can cause us to doubt God’s promises.

So we need Jesus to open this seal here. We need God’s suffering Servant to show us that there’s a future behind persecution. We need the Savior who rose on Easter, still bearing holes in his hands and feet and side, to assure us that we can face ridicule, rejection, scorn, abuse, with joy and confidence. 

But it still hurts. And so those saints who have passed on from this vale of tears, whose persecutions have ended, sometimes through their own deaths, are shown crying out to God, “When will you make good on your promise?” We heard that promise in our first reading, from Deuteronomy: “God will avenge the blood of his servants; he will take vengeance on his enemies.” The saints in heaven simply ask, “When, Lord?” When will you take a leaf out of the books of all these other despots and make heads roll?

This kind of language can unsettle Christians. We know that we are, personally, each called, as followers of God, to live lives characterized by meekness; humility; gentleness; love. How can that possibly intersect with a God who promises to “make his arrows drunk with blood while his sword devours flesh”? 

We may have a problem understanding this, as Westerners who almost never face real persecution. Sure, someone may reject my invitation to church. They may call me a homophobe for my beliefs about human sexuality. But thanks be to God that we do not live in a place where we need to regularly fear the possibility of our church being burned down. Or our Bibles being confiscated. The more present dangers for us are that our churches sit half empty in favor of every other activity under the sun. That our Bibles go unopened.

This is not so in every place. In fact, most months, you can read stories in the Forward in Christ magazine about the hardships our global brothers and sisters face. The article that starts on page seven this month, in fact, doesn’t even use the name of the country spelled C-H-I-N-A because the details in it could lead to trouble for underground Christians there. This is the crux of the complaint of these souls under heaven’s altar. They lived as they were called to live: meekly, humbly, gently, lovingly. And in return, they were rejected, persecuted, and sometimes killed. Will God do anything about it? Or is his so-called “mercy” actually apathy?

Some despots in history murder for their own personal agendas. But the most successful, generally, do so while convincing their group (a good despot always has to represent a group) that they are under attack, and that he will defend them from the ravening hordes threatening their way of life. It’s a very seductive claim, as seductive as Salome’s dance. And just like Salome’s dance, this claim can make otherwise rational people clamor for the blood of their neighbors. Watch out for those who would manipulate you with such words!

God does not murder out of self-interest. There is nothing he stands to gain from such an action. Beyond that, and this is what sticks in our craw: God does not often kill to protect his people. Not that he never has. A hundred and eighty-five thousand Assyrian soldiers died in 701 BC before the gates of Jerusalem, when God stepped in to protect his city. But throughout the Bible, we find this hard-to-swallow pill. God allows his people to suffer. He allows them to be persecuted and oppressed. He allows them to die. He’s the worst despot ever!

Of course he is, by worldly standards. Because as Jesus says, “My kingdom is not of this world.” He will not exercise his power as earthly despots do. Instead, God conforms his people to the image of his Son. Christ suffered. Christ was rejected. Christ died. So he warns his followers, John fifteen: “If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also.” 

So here’s the answer those saints in heaven are given. They are given the white robes won for them by the Savior. Throughout the New Testament, this picture of a white robe denotes the status of righteousness in the eyes of God that believers have through faith in Jesus. To believe in Jesus as your Savior - to turn away from relying on your works and your goodness - is to be clothed in Jesus’ perfection. Through faith, Jesus covers over your sin, your failure, your inability to earn forgiveness from God. Right now, by faith, you wear the white robe that John sees being given to these saints. 

Along with the white robe, there’s a verbal answer given to them. “They were told to wait a little longer, until the full number of their fellow servants, their brothers and sisters, were killed just as they had been.” Again, the way God operates is so vastly different from earthly despots. Earthly despots go on the attack. Earthly despots invade. Earthly despots conquer. 

But God already rules. God is in control right now. That’s what he makes clear by telling the saints in heaven, “Until.” He is in control. He knows when he will bring this present age to its end. And his solution will not be an invasion, a preemptive strike. God’s solution will be the heavenly courtroom. He rules all things now, and like earthly authorities, he can - and he will - call people to stand trial for their transgressions. 

This is why your white robe of faith, given as a gift from your Savior, is so important. Because you would not stand in that judgment! I would not stand in that judgment! You and I have far more in common with Herod and Herodias and Salome than with Jesus Christ, and he is the standard for human life by which God would judge us. Like Salome, we sin against God’s design for human sexuality. Like Herodias, we mislead and scheme to get our ways. Like Herod, we misuse power over others for our own comfort. “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” 

So it’s the last line of our first reading that’s most important. “God will make atonement for his land and people.” God atones for us. God, who promised just before that to “avenge” and “repay,” will also “atone.” Will reconcile sinners to himself. Will offer his own life for rebels. Did so in the body of Jesus Christ, the Lamb who was slain and is worthy to break the seals and open wide the future. 

Face each day, and the hurt which will accompany your faith in Christ, with that promise. Walk out of here today with your white robe on. Amen.