The book of Revelation recounts a vision John was given. He saw through the veil into the heavenly throne room of God. Christ Jesus himself commissioned John: “Write therefore the things that you have seen, those that are and those that are to take place after that” (Revelation 1:19). John would behold the present reality of worship around the throne. He would also see unfolding what was to come, the foreseeing of God’s redemptive plan for the earth. Early on in his vision, John sees a scroll sealed up with unbreakable seals in the hand of the Creator on the throne. He is dismayed because no one is found worthy to break those seals and discover what is within. His sorrow only dissipates when there appears the Lamb who was slain and who alone can open it.

 

The artist Christopher Powers rendered this image of the Lamb with the scroll. In his blog, Powers comments on the meaning of this event: “The context of “weep no more” in Rev.5:5 is that the “scroll” seems unable to be opened. . . . And what does that mean? Well, I think—and there are many interpretations of it—I think the scroll represents God’s purposes in history. In that sense, we might say that it represents all the hopes, all the longings, all the anticipations of God’s people. It is God’s kingdom coming and His will being done in heaven and earth. Therefore, the inability for this scroll to be opened is the worst thing imaginable. If it were not opened, it would be worse than hell itself, it would be the failure of God . . . the thwarting of His purposes . . . beauty devoured in chaos, hope swallowed up in despair, light extinguished in darkness . . . that is what the unopened scroll would mean.”

 

The scroll represents God’s future purposes for creation. His plans. The possibilities of what lies ahead for the flourishing of humanity on the earth.

 

What does it mean that no one in creation was found worthy to open the way to God’s glorious future? It means that creation itself cannot sustain its own existence. Beings of finite capacity cannot manage or shape a universe so vast and complex as ours. Created beings, no matter how mighty, cannot forge themselves a future of everlasting life. 

 

Simply put, we cannot even keep ourselves alive. We cannot reconcile warring humanity, nor fill in each empty heart. We cannot stem our high propensity to foul everything up, nor can we lift the weight of guilt from our attempts to have life on our own terms. We cannot make everything turn out all right. That discovery is an occasion for sorrow. This job can’t be done. This knot can never be untied. Left to itself, the universe will spin out to its ending. It will expand to nothingness. The stars will burn out. All life will cease. And on our own, there’s absolutely nothing we can do about it. As it is, existence is a tragedy that cannot overcome its own entropy. Grasping this, no wonder John wept loudly.

 

But then. Then comes the news. One of the heavenly elders tells John, “Weep no more; behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah . . . has conquered.” Expecting to see a mighty lion, John, however, sees instead a lamb. Strangely, the lamb stands but appears as if it had been slain. It is wounded mortally yet standing triumphantly. The contradictory imagery attempts to portray the paradox. The Lamb of God is simultaneously victor and victim, conquering king of the universal jungle of chaos and pierced lamb of a complete sacrificial offering. 

Powers goes on to suggest what this heavenly scene might mean for our daily lives in a broken world:

 

When the elder says to John, “weep no more,” he means that John should not weep over the prospect of the scroll being forever sealed . . . and yet . . . if the scroll is not forever sealed, if it in fact will be opened—if God’s good purposes will be achieved, if the “happy ending” will be invincibly secured—then are not the elder’s words to John also words to us in all of our sorrows? If the Lion has conquered, if the Lamb has overcome, is not all weeping overshadowed in the light of coming and sure joy? Is not all weeping, then, set in its rightful place, enduring for the “night,” while joy is sure to come with the blood-bought morning? (Christopher Powers, “Revelation 5:5,” Full of Eyes.)