At the conclusion of our Lord’s letter to the church at Laodicea, we read this remarkable promise: “The one who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne” (Rev. 3:21). Continue reading . . .
At the conclusion of our Lord’s letter to the church at Laodicea, we read this remarkable promise: “The one who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne” (Rev. 3:21).
Perhaps this promise would rest more easily in my heart if it weren’t for the fact that Revelation 4-5 follow immediately on this concluding letter to the church at Laodicea. You see, when I pause to reflect on what Christ meant when he referred to his “throne”, a throne on which his people, together with him, will sit, I can’t help but be drawn into the majestic scene that follows in the subsequent two chapters.
What we see and hear and feel in Revelation 4-5 is the pinnacle of biblical revelation. There simply is no greater, more majestic, or breathtaking scene than that of the risen Lamb sitting on the throne, surrounded by adoring angels and odd creatures, with ear-popping peals of thunder and blinding bolts of lightning.
If my earlier discomfort was due to the seeming impropriety of sinners sitting on that throne, nothing is more proper or fitting or apropos than that Jesus should be there. Nothing makes more sense than that he should be the focus of all creation, whether of Elders falling down, mesmerized by his beauty, or strange animals singing endlessly of his holiness. He belongs on the throne! He alone is God! He has died and redeemed men and women from every tribe and tongue and people and nation! By all means, let us sing:
“Crown Him with many crowns, the Lamb