Charles Ellicott Commentary Revelation 8

And when he had opened the seventh seal... — Translate: And when he opened the seventh seal there took place a silence in heaven for about half an hour. It is greatly to be regretted that this verse has been prefixed to this chapter. The section of the book with which it is connected is the one that goes before, not the one that follows. The second verse of this eighth chapter introduces a new series of visions; the first verse gives the close of the visions that follow the opening of the seals.

But what is the meaning of this verse that describes a half-hour’s silence in heaven? It is a disputed point whether the book, or roll, fastened with the seven seals (Revelation 5:1–2) is ever really unrolled to view. Some have thought that as each seal is opened a portion of the roll is displayed, unfolding the vision of the seal; others have regarded the visions as mere accompaniments of the opening of the seals, and quite distinct from the writing on the roll. Those who take this view are disposed to think that the roll is never read, for when the last seal is broken, and all are expecting to hear what is written in the book, no reading takes place, but only a silence ensues.

It does not seem to me that this latter view is altogether tenable. It appears a singularly harsh interpretation to say that the contents of the roll are never disclosed. The book of God’s purposes was seen in the hand of Him who sat on the throne. The Evangelist longed to know something of its contents; vain efforts were made to open it; the Evangelist wept with disappointment. He was then comforted in his sorrow by hearing that the Lion of the tribe of Judah had conquered to open the book. Yet, after all this, it is said that not a line or word of the book is ever revealed. The servant is waiting to hear the divine word; the seer is waiting to record what is unfolded; but though the seals are opened, we are told that the words he waits for never came.

St. John himself gives no hint of such a disappointing conclusion. Later on (Revelation 10:4), he is told not to record the utterances of the seven thunders, but there the concealing of the utterances is clearly commanded. Here he evidently associates the visions of the seals with the contents of the roll. It is only a spirit in bondage to foolish literalisms that will ask how the visions can be the writing in the roll. The book represents God’s purposes and principles of His government in relation to world history; the seals show us some typical scenes in that world history, and if not seen on the parchment of the roll, are yet unfoldings of principles and truths in the book.

But it does not follow that all that is in the roll is ever unfolded. Such portions are made manifest as the seer could hear and as the Church of Christ needed. And thus, it may well be that the half-hour’s silence is significant, indicating that all God’s purposes and revelations are not exhausted—that there is something behind which it is not well for us to know—that prophecy, as well as knowledge, is partial.

But the stillness of this half hour, if it reminds us of what is still untold, yet proclaims to us a time of deep, unbroken tranquility, when the cries and groans of the earth, and even the grateful doxologies of heaven, are hushed into calm. It is the silence that tells us that sorrow is ended and eloquently tells us of heart peace. It is the rest of the troubled on the breast of God. All the earth, with her strife of tongues, is still; all the cries of men (Revelation 6:15), of trader and warrior, of the struggling wise and the suffering good, are stilled; all flesh keeps silence before Him; He gives His people peace.

“O earth, so full of dreary noises!
O men with wailing in your voices!
O dug-up gold, the waiter’s heap!
O strife, O curse, that over it fall!
God strikes a silence through you all,
And giveth His beloved sleep.”

Only those who have been carried away by an overly refined philosophy or morbid sentimentalism can see anything selfish in longing, out of earth’s cares and injustices, for such a rest as this. It is surely not ignoble to pray—

“Grant us such a half-hour’s hush alone,
In compensation for our stormy years;
As heaven has paused from song, let earth from moan.”

THE VISIONS INTRODUCED BY THE SOUNDING OF SEVEN TRUMPETS.—The series of visions which is now introduced extends to the close of the eleventh chapter. There are some features that may be noticed here. There is a marked correspondence of arrangement between these and the visions of the seals. As there, so here, two subordinate visions are introduced towards the end of the series.

The sixth seal was followed by the vision of the one hundred and forty-four thousand and the countless multitude; the sixth trumpet is followed by the vision of the little book and the seven thunders, and the measurement of the temple of God (Revelation 10:1–11 and Revelation 11:1-14). The general intention of these interposed visions is similar. In both cases, they seem designed to give us an insight into the life within the life of Christ’s Church.

The main visions give us more external aspects; the interposed visions show the inner and more spiritual aspects. Thus, the seals show the great outer features of world and Church history—war, controversies, famine and barren dogmatism, death and deathlike externalism, the persecutions, sorrows, and revolutions of oncoming history. The interposed visions of Revelation 7:1-17, however, show us the calm, strength, and victory of the children of God.

So it is also with these visions of the trumpets. The main visions give us the trumpet-voices of God’s manifold providences, summoning the world to surrender to Him. The subsidiary visions point to the witness and work of the true children of God in this world, and the more secret growth of the Church of Christ. Another similarity between the seals and the trumpets is found in the separation between the first four and the last three. The first four trumpets, like the first four seals, are grouped together.

The first four seals are introduced by the cry “Come”; the first four trumpets are followed by judgments on natural objects—the earth, the sea, the rivers, the lights of heaven—while the last three have been described as woe trumpets, being introduced by the thrice-repeated cry of “Woe” . There is thus a correspondence of arrangement in the two series of visions, but their general import is very different.

In the seventh seal, we reach the eternal quiet of God’s presence. Through a series of visions, we have been shown that the way to rest is not easy, that we must be prepared to see the great features of earth’s troubles remain until the close, and that the children of God must, through tribulation and even persecution, enter into the kingdom of God’s peace.

The seals answer the question, “Lord, will you at this time restore the kingdom?” But the kingdom will be restored. The Church may find her way to be one of difficulty, delay, and danger, but it will be a way to triumph. The kingdoms of the world will become the kingdoms of the Lord. Let the people of God go forward; let their prayers be set forth as incense; let them blow the trumpet and summon people to repentance. They are not alone; the Lord still fights for His Israel. This is the assurance we gather from the trumpets.

In all the wondrous providences which the history of the world discloses, we may hear the trumpet-voice that heralds the kingdom of Christ, to which the Church is bearing constant and sufficient witness (Revelation 11:3–4). The seals close with peace; the trumpets close appropriately with victory (Revelation 11:15).

The visions are not scenes of events that chronologically succeed one another. One set shows us the way through trouble to rest; the other shows the way through conflict to triumph. One set shows us the troubles that befall the Church because of the world; the other shows us the troubles that fall on the world because the Church advances to the conquest of the world, as Israel advanced to the possession of the land of promise.

And I saw the seven angels... —A better rendering is: And I saw the seven angels which stand (not “stood”) before God; and there were given to them seven trumpets. “The seven angels:” Who are these? The usual answer is that they are seven angels (or, according to some, archangels) distinguished among the myriads around the throne. The passages referred to in support of this view are two—one from the Apocryphal Book of Tobit: “I am Raphael, one of the seven holy angels which present the prayers of the saints, and which go in and out before the glory of the Holy One” ; the other, the well-known passage from Luke: “I am Gabriel, that stand in the presence of God” (Luke 1:19).

This may be true, and the emphatic article (the seven angels) gives the view some support. However, seeing that the number seven is to be taken throughout the book as symbolical and not literal, it is perhaps better to view the seven angels as representatives of the power of God over the world. They are the seven, the complete circle of God’s power in judgment. For as we do not take the seven spirits to be literally seven spirits, but symbols of the complete and manifest influence of the one Holy Spirit, the third person in the glorious Trinity, so neither need we infer from the mention of the seven angels here that they are literally seven preeminent angelic personages. Rather, we should regard them as symbols of that complete and varied messenger-force which God always commands.

Seven trumpets.—It will help our understanding of the symbol employed here to recall the occasions on which the trumpet was used. It was used to summon the people together, whether for worship, festival, or war, “for the calling of the assembly, and for the journeying of the camps.” “When they shall blow with them (the trumpets), all the assembly shall assemble themselves to thee (Moses) at the door of the tabernacle of the congregation” (Numbers 10:4–8).

For journeying, an alarm was to be blown (Numbers 10:6). “And if ye go to war in your land against the enemy that oppresseth you, then ye shall blow an alarm with the trumpets; and ye shall be remembered before the Lord your God, and ye shall be saved from your enemies” (Revelation 8:9). And as for war, so also on festival days the trumpets were blown: “Also in the day of your gladness, and in your solemn days, and in the beginnings of your months, ye shall blow with the trumpets over your burnt offerings, and over the sacrifices of your peace offerings; that they may be to you for a memorial before your God: I am the Lord your God.”

The reader will remember other illustrations. When the people were assembled to hear the Ten Commandments, the voice of the trumpet sounded long, and waxed louder and louder (Exodus 19:19). The feast held on the first day of the seventh month was “a day of blowing the trumpets” (Numbers 29:1) among the people who would “blow up the trumpet in the new moon, in the time appointed, on their solemn feast day” (Psalms 81:3). At the siege of Jericho, seven priests bore before the ark seven trumpets of rams’ horns, and on the seventh day the priests blew with the trumpets (Joshua 6:4–5).

For assembling, for journeying, for war, the sound of the trumpets was heard. The judgments that follow the blowing of the trumpets in this series of visions are the trumpet-toned calls of God, summoning humankind to assemble to the true tabernacle, bidding His people go forward, and announcing the overthrow of His adversaries.

Every judgment—on earth, sea, or river, by war or by invasion—is a call that bids people listen to the still small voice, which they have neglected, perhaps resisted. Every judgment should rouse the true servant to greater vigilance and further advance: it is an alarm sounded on the great battlefield of life. Miracles have been called the alarm bells of the universe; no less are the strange and startling events of the world’s history the alarm notes blown by God’s angels across the world, to remind us of the war in which every citadel of evil must inevitably fall. It is mainly, then, as an alarm of war that these angel-trumpets are sounded.

The land of promise is to be rescued from the tribes and peoples who corrupt it. As the Canaanites of old were swept away for fear that their wickedness, increasing beyond measure, should spread abroad a moral death, so the judgments of these trumpets are sent to undermine, purge away, and finally destroy all evil powers that destroy the earth (Revelation 11:18). We may hear, then, in “each blast of the symbolical trumpet a promise and instalment of the victory” for which the groaning and laboring creation yearns, and which will be the banishment of earth’s destroyers and the manifestation of the sons of God.

And another angel came and stood at (or, over) the altar, having a golden censer.—The appearance of this other angel has given rise to some questioning and some strained explanations. Some have thought that by this other angel we are to understand Christ Himself. This is very doubtful: the designation “another angel” is against this view. There is really no need to ask who the several angels are: the book is symbolical. The angels are not particular personages, but symbolical of those agencies—whether personal, or natural, or supernatural—which are employed by Him who sits on the throne.

The angel stood at the altar. The altar mentioned in Revelation 6:2 corresponded with the altar of burnt sacrifice, which stood in the open court in front of the tabernacle or temple. The symbolism of the Apocalypse being so largely built up out of Jewish materials, we need not be surprised to find the altar of incense introduced here. This altar was of gold, and was situated in the holy place. Here the priest was used to burn incense, while the people outside were praying. We have an example of the custom in the history of Zechariah (Luke 1:8–11).

The scene described by Luke bears a close resemblance to this and gives a key to the symbolism. The prayers of the people and the smoke of the incense are ascending together. The angel has a golden censer. The word here rendered censer is used sometimes for the incense, but the epithet “golden” shows that it is the vessel to hold the incense which is intended. The censer is of gold, as was the altar, and as are so many things in the Apocalypse (Revelation 5:8; Revelation 15:6–7; Revelation 21:15; Revelation 21:21).

And there was given to him much incense...—Literally, And there was given to him much incense that he might (not “offer it with,” as the English version, but) give it to the prayers of all the saints upon the golden altar which was before the throne.

The incense was to be mingled with the prayers of the saints. The incense was added to give a fragrance to the prayers of the saints and render them acceptable before God. The action of the angel has been spoken of as though it might lend support to the erroneous doctrine of the mediatorship of saints and angels.

It is only when we persist in viewing symbols as literal facts that there is any danger of such an inference. Dogmas whose only foundation is in the incidental symbolism of a prophetic book are poorly grounded. It is a safe canon that doctrinal inferences from metaphors are always to be suspected.

The angel here is a mere symbol of a divinely-appointed agency. No personal angel actually ever did what is described here: how could incense mix with prayers? The whole is symbolical of the truth that the prayers of all the saints need to be rendered acceptable by the infusion of some divine element.

The best prayers of the best saints are weak, polluted, and imperfect at best. The incense which is added to the prayers is not supplied by the angel: it is first given to him, and he then mingles it with the prayers of all saints. It is hard to forget here Him whose offering and sacrifice became a savour of sweet smell (Ephesians 5:1–2).

The altar is described as the golden altar—i.e., the altar of incense, as noted above. It is well for us to remember Dean Alford’s caution that we must not attempt to force the details of any of these visions into accordance with the arrangements of the tabernacle. “A general analogy in the use and character of the heavenly furniture is all that we can look for” (Alford, in loco).

And the smoke of . . .—Better, And there went up the smoke of the incense for (or to, i.e., designed for, and to give fragrance to) the prayers of the saints, out of the hand of the angel, before God. The emblem of the rising column of smoke, in which incense and prayer now mingled, is the token that the prayers of the saints, now rendered acceptable, and no longer premature, are about to be answered.

These prayers of God’s people, weak and imperfect as they are, are yet invincible weapons in the hands of Christ’s soldiers, and will be found mightier than any carnal weapons. As Jericho fell without Israel needing to strike a blow, so now the Israel of God will be seen to be omnipotent through true and faithful prayer. The charter of the Church’s power is in the words of Christ: If you abide in Me, and My words abide in you, you shall ask what you will, and it shall be done to you (John 15:7). The judgments that follow are not indeed specifically prayed for by the Church of Christ, but they are the results of their prayers, and prove the might of all prayer.

And the angel . . .—This can be translated: And the angel has taken (or, took) the censer, and he filled it from the fire of the altar, and cast it (that is, the fire or hot ashes which filled the censer) upon the earth.

The prayers have gone up, and the sprinkling of the ashes toward the earth is the symbol of the answer descending from heaven.

We may recall the similar action of Moses before Pharaoh, when he took ashes from the furnace and sprinkled it toward heaven, but it descended toward the earth as a symbol of the plague about to fall upon the land (Exodus 9:8–10).

The hot ashes are the tokens of the coming judgments.

As in the parallel vision in Ezekiel (Ezekiel 10:2), when the man clothed with linen is commanded to go in between the wheels, even under the cherub, and fill his hand with coals of fire from between the cherubims, and scatter them over the doomed city; so here the ashes fall—the judgments are near.

And there were voices . . .—Alternatively, And there took place thunders, and voices, and lightnings, and an earthquake.

There is some variety among the manuscripts in the order of the words used here. Some place “lightnings” before “voices.”

These signs and sounds herald the approach of judgments. God has arisen in answer to the cry of His people. The earth shook and trembled.

There went up a smoke and a fire: coals were kindled at it. At the brightness that was before Him His thick clouds passed, hailstones and coals of fire. The Lord also thundered in the heavens, and the Highest gave His voice, hailstones and coals of fire. Yea, He sent out His arrows, and scattered them: He shot out lightnings and discomfited them . . . He delivered me from my strong enemy (Psalms 18:4–19).

It is a solemn thought that we may send up prayers, and the answer may come down a judgment; for often it is only through judgment that true loving-kindness can make her way.