Introduction
We return to the book of Revelation as what it calls itself: a single, unified revelation, the Revelation of Jesus Christ. This book is not meant to center our curiosity around charts and controversies first, but to center our hearts on Christ: His person, His people, and His plan. It is also the one biblical book that explicitly attaches a blessing to its reading and obedience, those who read, heed, and keep what is written are promised blessing (Revelation 1:3). That alone should settle the question of whether the Lord desires His church to study it.
With that in mind, we pick up again in Revelation 1:9–11, where John is not presenting theories but bearing witness, writing what he is commanded to write and sending it to real congregations in real places.
Module Content
John introduces himself with remarkable humility and solidarity: “I, John, both your brother and companion in the tribulation and kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ…” (Revelation 1:9). He is not speaking from a detached distance. He stands with the church as family, sharing in suffering, sharing in the kingdom, and sharing in the long endurance that belongs to Jesus.
He tells us where he is: on Patmos, an island of exile, “for the word of God and for the testimony of Jesus Christ” (Revelation 1:9). John’s imprisonment is not finally explained by Rome’s power but by God’s purpose. He is there because he would not stop holding to God’s Word and to the witness of Christ.
John then describes something supernatural: “I was in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day” (Revelation 1:10). The Lord’s Day here is best understood as Sunday, the day early Christians commonly used for gathered worship. This is not the phrase “the day of the Lord” that Scripture uses for eschatological judgment; nor is it the Sabbath (which is consistently named as Sabbath). John is saying that on that Sunday, he entered a Spirit-given state beyond ordinary sense perception, a unique enabling in which God would reveal what makes up this book. This is not described as a casual spiritual mood, but as a divinely appointed condition in which John will see, hear, and even interact with what is shown.
In that moment he hears “behind” him “a loud voice, as of a trumpet” (Revelation 1:10). Later in Revelation 4:1 John will again mention a voice like a trumpet, and the comparison naturally recalls the trumpet-associated imagery of the church being gathered to the Lord (as in 1 Thessalonians). For now, what matters is that this voice is unmistakable, piercing, commanding, heaven-sent.
The voice identifies Himself: “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last” (Revelation 1:11). He is the beginning and the end, the A to Z, the One who precedes all things and outlasts all things. Then comes the instruction that frames the whole book: “What you see, write in a book and send it to the seven churches which are in Asia…” (Revelation 1:11). The “book” here would have been a scroll; the command is to record faithfully and distribute widely.
These seven churches are not selected at random. They are named in a particular sequence, Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamos, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, Laodicea, and their order corresponds to an established Roman postal route that moved in a clockwise inland circuit beginning with Ephesus and concluding at Laodicea. Even this detail testifies that Revelation is not abstract prophecy floating above history; it is a message delivered with precision to Christ’s people in identifiable communities.
More than that, the very names of these cities meaningfully correspond to the spiritual conditions addressed in them. Ephesus, which will be rebuked for leaving its first love, carries a sense that can be connected with drifting or letting go. Smyrna, the persecuted church, bears a name tied to myrrh, the burial spice, fitting a congregation acquainted with death and martyrdom. Pergamos carries the sense of an objectionable marriage or a marriage to power, matching a church compromised by joining itself to the world system. Thyatira suggests continual sacrifice or labor, aligning with a corrupted spirituality, sacrifice without purity, where tolerance of false influence (pictured as “Jezebel”) is condemned. Sardis is associated with the idea of a remnant, and Jesus will speak to a church with past reputation but present lifelessness, where only a small faithful remnant remains. Philadelphia means brotherly love, and it is presented as a church Christ commends, holding to God’s Word and not denying His name. Laodicea bears the sense of being ruled by the people, and it depicts a church confident in wealth and self-sufficiency while Christ exposes its true poverty and need for repentance.
In addition to geography and names, these seven churches, taken in order, also appear to trace a broad pattern that corresponds to major eras in church history: the early church’s waning affection, early centuries of persecution, the later “marriage to power” when Christianity gained political establishment, the deep corruption and false sacrificial system of the dark ages, the Reformation’s great beginnings and later deadness in many places, the missionary awakening and brotherly love that spilled outward, and finally the modern drift toward self-satisfied religion. This is not treated as a rigid timeline, but as a striking alignment, an apparent “signature of God” in the layered design of Scripture.
With the command to write established, John turns to see the One speaking. But the first thing his eyes meet is not a landscape or a throne, he sees “seven golden lampstands” (Revelation 1:12). The meaning of these will be made clear within the chapter’s own “cipher,” but their presence signals something important: the revelation of Christ is not separated from the life of His churches. What follows is a vision of Christ in the midst of His people.
“In the midst of the seven lampstands” John sees “One like the Son of Man” (Revelation 1:13). This title is profound. It declares Christ’s true humanity, He is qualified to stand in for humanity and to bear the sins of mankind. Yet it is not merely a claim of humanity; it also reaches into a well-known prophetic framework from Daniel.
Daniel 7 depicts the collapse of the final rebellious kingdom of man and the transfer of dominion to the rightful King. Daniel writes that he saw “One like the Son of Man, coming with the clouds of heaven” who came to “the Ancient of Days” (Daniel 7:13). “Ancient” here does not mean merely old, but eternal, the Father who is before all time. To the Son of Man is given “dominion and glory and a kingdom,” and “all peoples, nations, and languages should serve Him,” with an “everlasting dominion” and a kingdom that “shall not be destroyed” (Daniel 7:14). In other words, “Son of Man” holds together the reality that Jesus is fully man and fully God, the God-Man, the One with an earthly mother and heavenly Father, the One who will reign forever.
John then describes Christ’s appearance in priestly and kingly imagery: He is “clothed with a garment down to His feet, and girded about the chest with a golden band” (Revelation 1:13). The long robe echoes the priestly garments described for Israel’s priests (Exodus 28; Exodus 39), pointing to Jesus as the great High Priest. Yet it also speaks of majesty and authority. Isaiah saw the Lord “high and lifted up,” and “the train of His robe filled the temple” (Isaiah 6:1). In this light, Christ’s robe is not merely clothing; it signifies His position, His holiness, and His rule.
But the robe also preaches grace to the believer. Isaiah rejoices, “He has clothed me with the garments of salvation… He has covered me with the robe of righteousness” (Isaiah 61:10). When John sees Jesus covered in this garment, it becomes a picture of Christ’s righteousness covering His body, His people. This is the heart of the gospel’s exchange. In theological language it is substitutionary atonement: at the cross, Jesus takes our sin upon Himself, and through His death, burial, and resurrection He gives to us His righteousness. He bears what was ours so that we may receive what is His. The robe, then, is both a sign of His priesthood and a promise of our covering.
John continues describing the glory of Christ: His head and hair white as wool and snow, His eyes like a flame of fire, His feet like refined brass, His voice like many waters, seven stars in His right hand, a sharp two-edged sword from His mouth, and a countenance like the sun in full strength (Revelation 1:14–16). The effect is overwhelming: the Jesus revealed here is not diminished, not tame, not merely a teacher of wise sayings. He is the risen, reigning, holy Lord, pure, penetrating, immovable, and powerful in His Word.
And this is where the passage brings us: one day, the church will turn and behold her King. John’s vision trains our hearts to expect that moment and to live now under the gaze of the Son of Man who stands in the midst of His lampstands.
Closing Prayer
Father in heaven, we receive Your Word as Your Word, living, authoritative, and true. Thank You that Revelation is the revelation of Jesus Christ, and that You have promised blessing to those who read, heed, and keep what is written. Draw us into deeper intimacy with Your Son, because without closeness to Him we will miss the point of everything You reveal.
Lord Jesus, Alpha and Omega, First and Last, we worship You as the Son of Man who has received an everlasting kingdom. Thank You for standing in the midst of Your churches. Thank You for the robe of righteousness, this great exchange, by which You took our sin and cover us with Your salvation. Cleanse us, steady us, and teach us to endure with patience in Your kingdom.
Holy Spirit, grant us understanding and reverence as we continue in this book. Keep us from pride, keep us from distraction, and form in us a faithful witness to Jesus Christ. In His name we pray, amen.