Revelation 5: Who Can Open the Sealed Scroll Before the Throne

Revelation 5: Who Can Open the Sealed Scroll Before the Throne

A mighty angel stood in the middle of the throne room and asked a question aloud. The question rose, struck the sky high, descended through the entire earth, went all the way down to the earth where the dead are, returned, and returned empty. No voice answered, no hand was raised, no being in any of the three places took a step forward. The sky, which seconds before had been filled with singing and movement, stood still, waiting for someone who never appeared. The question was short: “Who is worthy to open the book and to loose its seals?” That was the moment when the last living apostle, a man over 90 years old, exiled on a rocky island in the middle of the sea, broke down in tears before the glory of God. It wasn’t fear, it wasn’t tiredness, it was something else. And this other thing is the whole heart of Revelation chapter 5. To understand why that crying had such weight, we need to go back a few steps and look at what was in that hand. The man who was crying was called John. He was on an island called Patmos, a long rock in the Aegean Sea, about 70 kilometers from the coast, in what is now Turkey. It wasn’t a beautiful holiday island, it was a place of punishment. Rome sent people to islands like that because they were troublesome, talked too much, and refused to call the emperor “Lord.” Without a new trial, without a set deadline, without a visit, you would go and stay.

The empire at that time was ruled by Domitian, and the demand was simple. The emperor was worshipped; there was a temple, there was a priest, there was a designated day. Those who participated went on with their lives in peace. Those who refused lost their businesses, their jobs, their security, and sometimes much more than that. The churches scattered throughout the region were experiencing something that was cramped because of this. Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, and Laodicea. Seven real cities with names, streets, and shops, full of ordinary people trying not to betray their faith without starving to death in the process. And it was to these seven churches that John wrote. What he wrote didn’t begin as a book, it began as an experience. The text itself recounts that one Sunday John heard a voice behind him, loud as a trumpet. He turned around, and what he saw that day changed the rest of his life. In the following chapters come the letters to the seven churches, one by one, with praise, with correction, with warning. Once the letters are finished, the text changes angle. Leave the ground, rise up. Revelation chapter 4, verse 1, records the turning point. After these things I looked, and behold, a door was opened in heaven. And the first voice that I heard speaking to me, like a trumpet, said: “Come up here, and I will show you things that must take place after this. Come up here.” And John went up. What he found up there was a room. In the center, a throne. Sitting on it is someone whom John doesn’t even attempt to describe with a face or body. He describes it with stone and with light. It speaks of jasper, it speaks of sardonyx, it speaks of an arc of green light around the throne, resembling emerald. When something is too big to fit into words, that’s what ancient texts do. He compares the throne to 24 smaller thrones. Seated in them were 24 elders, dressed in white and with golden crowns on their heads. From the central throne came flashes of lightning, voices, and thunder. In front of him, seven lit lamps were blazing. Ahead, something resembling a sea of glass, transparent as crystal

And there were four living creatures, full of eyes inside and out, which did not stop day or night. They repeated the same thing without getting tired. Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come. Every time these four gave glory to the one on the throne, the 24 elders knelt down, removed the crowns from their own heads, and threw them to the ground before the throne. Pay attention to the detail, because it will matter later. A crown is a symbol of authority. Those elders had sufficient authority to use one, and their authority served only one purpose: to be placed on the ground in front of whoever had more. That was the temperature in the room. Praise without pause, light, thunder, glass, crown falling to the floor. Then chapter 5 begins and the camera closes in on a single point, the right hand of the person who was on the throne. Revelation chapter 5, verse 1, says: “Then I saw in the right hand of him that sat on the throne a book written within and on the backside, sealed with seven seals.” Three pieces of information in that short sentence, and each one changes the size of the scene. The first one was a book, or rather, a scroll. Back then, nobody had books with loose pages like ours. It had a roll. They made them from papyrus, a plant that grew on the banks of the Nile, cut into thin strips, pressed in crisscrossing layers, and dried until it became a sheet. Glued together end to end, these sheets were formed into a long strip wrapped around a wooden stick. The second piece of information is written both inside and out. That was rare. The ancient scribe wrote on the inside of the scroll, where the fibers ran horizontally and the pen glided more easily. The outside was rough and blank. When a document was written on both sides, it meant one very specific thing: We’ve run out of space. There’s no room for anything else. It’s complete. There are no blank lines for someone to add a paragraph later. The third piece of information is the most important. Sealed with seven seals. A stamp was not just an ornament. Stamp duty was law. The roll was tied with a cord, wax or soft clay was dripped onto the knot, and the signatory’s ring was pressed in place. That mark became the signature. As long as the seal remained intact, the contents were secret and no one could tamper with them. If someone broke the gate without permission, they were committing a crime. Roman law had a document that functioned exactly like seven seals: the will. The law required seven witnesses, and each witness placed their own seal on the cord.

The will was only opened when all seven were present or represented, and it could only be opened by the person who had a legal right to the inheritance. A stranger wouldn’t open it, a friend wouldn’t open it, a court employee wouldn’t open it, only the heir. There was also another type of document sealed in the same way, the deed to a lost property. When a family fell into debt and lost their land, the document outlining the redemption conditions was sealed and stored away. One day, if someone from the family with blood rights and the money to pay appeared, that person would open the document and take the land back. The Hebrews called this person Goel, the kinsman-redeemer. The book of Ruth tells an entire story based on this rule. And the prophet Jeremiah records that he himself bought a field, signed the deed, sealed the document before witnesses, and had it all stored in an earthenware vessel to last for many days. So look where the scene has ended up. There is a complete document, with no space left, in God’s right hand. It’s sealed seven times. And according to the rules that anyone from that time knew by heart, that document belongs to someone who has family rights over what is written inside. What is written inside is the future of the earth, the redemption of what was lost, the end of dominion that does not belong to God, the inheritance returning to the rightful hands. And as long as no one opens that roll, none of this will begin. Two readings by those who study this passage to this day. Some scholars see it as God’s testament, the document that bestows the inheritance of the world. And there are those who see the deed to a seized property, waiting for the relative who has the right to reclaim it. How do you read this scroll? Write it down below, because this is one of those questions where the answer to one comment makes the other person think. And take the opportunity to click on “subscribe” before continuing for a practical reason. This study continues through the end of the chapter in two parts, and YouTube only notifies you of the second part once you’re subscribed to the channel. Without this, the video simply won’t appear for you. Returning to the throne room, the angel who rose was no ordinary angel. The text uses a word that indicates strength, a strong angel, and his voice was described as loud, the kind that fills the room and doesn’t let anyone pretend they didn’t hear it. Revelation, chapter 5, verse 2. And I saw a mighty angel proclaiming with a loud voice: “Who is worthy to open the scroll and to break its seals? The Word that seals everything is worthy.” He didn’t ask who was strong enough. He didn’t ask who was smart enough to figure it out. He didn’t ask who was brave.

He asked who was entitled, who had credentials. Who can get close to that hand, take that roll, and break those seals without committing a crime against the throne itself? And verse 3 answers: “And no one in heaven or on earth or under the earth could open the scroll or look inside it.” Three places. The search was complete in heaven, where the angels who never fell were, the living beings with all-seeing eyes, the 24 crowned elders, none of them served. Being pure wasn’t enough. Standing before God for centuries wasn’t enough. On earth, where all the men and women alive at that moment were—kings, priests, wise men, good people, devout people—none of them served. Under the earth, where the dead were, including the great names that faith had already produced, none of them served. And notice in the second part of the verse that almost everyone overlooks. No one could even look at it. It’s not just that no one could open it. No one was even allowed to look at that scroll. The distance wasn’t one of skill, it was one of qualification. The whole of heaven was gathered, and the whole of heaven didn’t have a single candidate. Before continuing the scene, it’s worth pausing for a moment and talking about the very book we are reading. Because knowing the apocalypse from the inside changes the way you understand each image in it. Start with the name. The word apocalypse doesn’t mean catastrophe, it doesn’t mean the end of the world, it doesn’t mean disaster. It comes from the Greek apokalypsis and the meaning is to remove the covering from something, to uncover, to pull back the veil that was hiding it. It’s the same idea as removing the veil from a bride’s face. So, the title of the book in the original would be something like: The Unveiling of Jesus Christ. That is, the book exists to show someone, not to scare someone. This is the first thing that most people have never heard of and it’s what helps most in reading. The text presents itself in the first line as a message that came from God to Jesus, from Jesus to an angel, from the angel to John, and from John to the churches. It’s a chain of delivery. John doesn’t present himself as the author of the message; he presents himself as the last link, the one who writes what he received. Regarding when this was written, the oldest tradition points to the end of the first century. Around the year 95 AD. The first person to record this was a bishop named Irenaeus in the 2nd century, who claimed to have learned it from Polycarp. And Polycarp, according to tradition, had lived with John himself. There is also a group of scholars who defend an earlier date. In the 1960s, before the fall of the Temple in Jerusalem, both dates have serious defenders to this day. The book has 22 chapters and was written in a very particular Greek. Those who read the original notice that the author sometimes breaks the grammar, mixes verb tenses, writes as if thinking in Hebrew or Aramaic, writes in Greek.

It’s not the mistake of an uneducated person. It’s the mark of someone whose heart’s language was different. There’s a detail that often surprises. Revelation is the New Testament book with the most connections to the Old Testament. Scholars count hundreds of references to Daniel, Ezekiel, Isaiah, Zechariah, and the Psalms. And the most curious thing is that none of these references are announced. The formula, as written, never appears. The author simply places the old images within the new text, as if conversing with someone who already knows the entire Bible by heart. Therefore, anyone who tries to read Revelation skipping the Old Testament gets lost. The book was written for readers who had already read the rest. Another important thing is the type of literature. Revelation belongs to a genre that was common among the Jews of that period called apocalyptic literature. Daniel has passages like that, Ezekiel has them, Zechariah has them. In this type of writing, almost everything is an image with meaning. Horn indicates power, eye indicates knowledge, white garment indicates purity, large water indicates a multitude of peoples. And the numbers are not just quantity, they are a message. Seven indicates something complete, whole, finished. Twelve appears linked to the people of God because of the 12 tribes and the 12 apostles. Four appears linked to the whole earth in its four corners. When you understand this alphabet, the book stops being an opaque enigma and becomes a language that can be followed. Now, a point of history that few people know. The Book of Revelation took a long time to be accepted by all churches. In the western part of the empire, it was received early. In the eastern part, there was a long discussion. The historian Eusebius, in the 4th century, even listed the book among the texts discussed. Some churches in the East took centuries to include it in public reading. And even today, the liturgy of the Greek Orthodox Church does not read the Book of Revelation in regular services, although the book is in their canon. This shows something healthy. The first Christians did not swallow just any text. They weighed, compared, discussed, and only accepted it after much examination. It is also worth mentioning that the Book of Revelation is the only book in the Bible that promises a specific blessing for those who read it. It’s right there in chapter 1, verse 3. Blessed is he who reads and those who hear the words of this prophecy—notice that it speaks of reading and hearing. In the churches of that time, almost no one had their own copy. Someone read aloud, and the entire congregation listened. The book was made to be listened to all at once, from beginning to end, in a meeting. There are four main ways to interpret the Apocalypse that run through the history of the church to this day. The first understands that almost everything already happened in the first century, linked to Rome and the fall of Jerusalem.

The second understands that the book describes the history of the entire church, century by century until the end. The third understands that most of it will still happen in the future. The fourth understands the book as a portrait of the conflict between good and evil that repeats itself throughout time. Serious people, God-fearing, true scholars, defend each of these four readings. Knowing that these four perspectives exist already avoids a lot of unnecessary arguing. One last piece of information, and this one connects directly to the scene we are witnessing. The word that the Apocalypse uses for lamb appears almost 30 times throughout the book. It is by far the most repeated name for Jesus in this text. He is not a king, he is not a judge, he is not a warrior, he is a lamb. Remember this, because soon it will all make sense. Back to the island. Back to the room, back to the silence. John saw all of that, he saw the hand, he saw the scroll, he heard the question, he waited for the answer that didn’t come, and he broke down. Revelation, chapter 5, verse 4. And I wept much because no one was found worthy to open the book, nor to read it, nor to look at it. The verb used there in Greek doesn’t describe a discreet tear. It’s the word for loud weeping, the weeping of a funeral, the kind that shakes the body. And the verb tense indicates something continuous. It wasn’t a sob, it was weeping that extended. I paused on this passage because it’s strange. John was in heaven, he was seeing the throne of God, he was a few meters from the glory that no prophet had managed to describe properly. He was hearing the purest praise that ever existed. And in the midst of all this, he wept loudly, because it wasn’t fear of what was in the scroll. He didn’t even know the content, it was fear of the opposite. John understood there what it meant for the scroll to remain closed. It meant that evil would remain loose, that Rome would continue to rule, that the imprisoned brother would remain imprisoned, that the widow of the church in Smyrna would remain without justice, the buried child would remain buried, the promise of a new heaven and a new earth would be forever kept on a piece of paper that no one had the right to open. A sealed document that is never opened is worthless. The inheritance exists, the right exists, the signature exists, and nothing happens. John wept for the future that would never begin. That man had seen much in life. He had seen the master die on a cross and had been close enough to hear what was said there. He had seen the empty tomb. He had seen fellow travelers die for the name of Jesus. He had buried friends. He had written letters to weary churches, telling them to hold on a little longer. And now in heaven, the answer seemed to be that there was no answer. His weeping lasted as long as it lasted, and then someone moved. One of the 24 elders left his place, approached the apostle, and spoke to him. It wasn’t a voice of thunder, it was a short phrase spoken to a broken man, with an order in the middle and a message immediately afterwards. He told John to stop crying. The reason had two ancient names preserved in the Scriptures for over 1,000 years. Two titles that any Jew knew from childhood, linked to a promise made on a deathbed and to a root that was supposed to sprout from a cut trunk.

And when John raised his eyes to see the owner of those two names, what was there in the middle of the throne was not what those names promised. It was something else. He was younger, he was wounded, he was standing, but with marks indicating he had been killed. The old man spoke six words that changed the temperature of the room. Revelation chapter 5, verse 5, records it this way: “Then one of the elders said to me, ‘Do not weep! See, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has triumphed. He is able to open the scroll and its seven seals. Do not weep.'” This wasn’t empty consolation like the kind you say at a funeral because you don’t know what to say. It was an order based on fact. Stop crying, because the problem has just been solved. The search failed in heaven, failed on earth, failed under the earth. And the reason is simple. They were looking in the wrong direction. The worthy one wasn’t among those who were summoned. The worthy one was already in the room, and the elder presented this someone with two titles that any Jew knew from childhood. The first title was born in a room next to a dying old man. Many centuries before that vision, a man named Jacob called his 12 sons around his bed to say his last word about each one. When it was Judah’s turn, the fourth son, the father used the figure of a lion. He said that Judah was a little lion that rises from its prey, that crouches and lies down, and that no one dares to awaken it. And he completed it with a promise: The scepter would not depart from Judah, nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet, until he to whom it belongs shall come. A scepter is the king’s staff. That was a promise of royalty planted in a specific family, centuries before there was a king in Israel. And centuries later, when God chose a shepherd boy named David to reign, he came precisely from that tribe. The second title was born in a prophecy about a tree stump. The prophet Isaiah wrote at a time when the royal house of David was going down the drain. The kingdom was going to fall, the kings were going to be taken prisoner, the dynasty was going to seem dead. And Isaiah wrote that a shoot would spring from the stump of Jesse, and a branch from his roots would bear fruit. Jesse was David’s father. The image is of a tree cut down close to the ground, a dead stump in the middle of the field, and a green shoot sprouting from there. Isaiah also said that this shoot would be set up as a banner for the peoples and that the nations would seek it. Put the two names together and you have the complete picture. Lion of the tribe of Judah is strength and the right to reign. Root of David is the right lineage, the right blood, the relative with the legal right to the inheritance. Remember the scroll sealed seven times.

By the rules of that time, only the heir could open it. Only the redeeming relative was allowed to touch the deed to the lost property. The elder wasn’t just praising someone; he was saying in legal language that everyone there understood that the owner of the document had appeared. And there’s a word in the middle of this verse that often goes unnoticed. He conquered. The elder didn’t say he would conquer, he said he conquered. Something finished in the past, with a result that remains. The victory that gave the scroll its right had already happened down there, on earth, many years before, in a place outside the walls of Jerusalem, on a Friday that seemed like complete defeat. John heard Lion, John heard Judah, John heard David, John heard Victory. Then he turned to look. What he saw had no mane. Revelation chapter 5, verse 6. And I looked, and behold, in the midst of the throne and of the four living creatures, and in the midst of the elders, stood a Lamb as though it had been slain, having seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven Spirits of God sent out into all the earth. The elder announced a lion, a lamb appeared. And the word used in Greek for lamb there is even more disconcerting. It is not the common term for an adult sheep. It is a diminutive word, arnion, which carries the idea of a little lamb, a cub, the most defenseless animal that existed in a flock. The creature that doesn’t bite, doesn’t run, doesn’t escape, and doesn’t defend itself. The contrast is intentional, it is the heart of the chapter, and then comes the part that makes the text stop being beautiful and start to hurt, as if it had been killed. The literal translation from the Greek is even harsher. The word describes a slaughtered animal, sacrificed on the altar, and the verb tense indicates something done in the past, whose effect remains visible. That is, the lamb stood alive in the middle of the throne, and at the same time bore the mark of one who had been killed. The wound was there, it was not erased, it was not disguised, it was not healed until it disappeared. The most glorious body in the universe is a body with a scar. Those marks were not shame, they were credentials. They were exactly what proved his right over the scroll. The mighty angel had asked who was worthy, and the answer was written in the flesh of someone who had already paid the price. Regarding the seven horns and the seven eyes, it is worth explaining briefly, because this is the language proper to this book. Horns throughout the Bible are a figure of power and authority. An animal with one horn is already strong. Seven horns in the alphabet of images of Revelation indicate complete power without any lack. Eyes are a figure of knowledge and vision. Seven eyes indicate that nothing escapes. The text also links these eyes to the seven spirits of God sent to all the earth. One expression that appears earlier in the book points to the fullness of the Holy Spirit acting throughout the world. So, that wounded lamb had all the power and saw absolutely everything. John was looking at the only point in the universe where weakness and strength occupy the same place. What happened next is the quietest and most tense scene in the chapter and fits into a single line. Revelation chapter 5, verse 7. And he came and took the scroll from the right hand of him who sat on the throne.

No request for permission, no court called to authorize, no voice asking if he could. The lamb walked to the throne and took the scroll from God’s right hand. No one moved to stop him. In ancient courts, approaching the throne uninvited could cost one’s life. The story of Esther records this custom. Whoever entered before the king of Persia without an invitation was killed, unless the king extended his scepter. Here the lamb crosses the room and takes the most important document that exists. The absence of reaction is public proof that he had a right to it. And that’s when the room exploded. Revelation chapter 5, verse 8. And when he had taken the book, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb, each having a harp and golden vessels full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints. Notice what was inside those golden bowls. It wasn’t gold, it wasn’t jewelry, it wasn’t an expensive offering, it was prayers. Prayers of ordinary people called saints, which is the name the New Testament gives to Christians everywhere. The twenty-four elders, with crowns on their heads and their own thrones, were holding bowls with the prayers of the church. The prayer of the widow of Smyrna, who prayed alone at night. The prayer of the Christian slave, who could not speak aloud. The prayer of someone who prayed for years and died, thinking that nothing had been heard. None of that had been lost. It was kept in a golden vessel in heaven, perfumed as incense, and it was presented at the exact moment the lamb took the scroll. If you have ever prayed for something and felt like your voice vanished into thin air without reaching anywhere, this verse has a very specific message for you. Then came a song that had never been sung before. Revelation chapter 5, verses 9 and 10. And they sang a new song, saying: “You are worthy to take the scroll and to open its seals, because you were slain, and with your blood you purchased for God persons from every tribe and language and people and nation.” And you have made them kings and priests to our God, and they will reign on the earth. The reason for the praise lies in the word “because.” Worthy are you because you were killed. Not because you are strong, not because you are eternal, not because you created the universe. Although all of that is true and appears in the previous chapter. There in that room, the title of worthiness came from his death. And the following verb is: bought. It is the word used to pay someone’s price in the slave trade and to restore freedom to the person. The price mentioned is not money, it is blood. Notice also the list of those who were bought, from every tribe, language, people, and nation. Four different words placed on purpose so that no corner of the outside world is left out. Tribe is the kinship group. Language is the idiom. People is the ethnicity. Nation is the country. The account balances throughout the world. For the Christians of those seven cities in Asia, who were a small and despised minority in poor neighborhoods, this was news that was hard to believe. They felt nobody inside a giant empire. The song of heaven said that people from that small group were inside the purchase. And the end of the song is even bolder. It says that these people were made kings and priests and that they will reign over the earth.

Kings at a time when the only recognized king was Caesar. Priests at a time when priesthood was a restricted, hereditary position, with strict rules about who could enter which part of the temple. The song places these two titles on the heads of artisans, slaves, weavers, bankrupt merchants, and widows of Ephesus. It’s worth pausing the scene once more and talking about something that underpins everything we’re reading here. How did this Bible reach your hands? Start with its size. The Bible is not a book, it’s a library of 66 books written over more than 1,500 years by about 40 different authors in three languages. The Old Testament was written almost entirely in Hebrew, with some passages in Aramaic, mainly in parts of Daniel and Ezra. The New Testament was written in Greek, but not in the difficult Greek of philosophers. It was written in common Greek, the language spoken in the streets, at the port, in the marketplace. It was the language that united the entire empire at that time, just as English circulates throughout the world today. The authors are from completely different worlds. Moses was raised in the palace of Egypt. David tended sheep. Amos gathered figs from the sycamore tree. Daniel was a government official in Babylon. Luke was a doctor. Peter and John were fishermen on the Sea of Galilee. Paul had studied with the most famous rabbi of his time. People who never met, separated by centuries, writing on different continents. And the whole thing converses with each other in a way that impresses those who read attentively. No original paper of these writings exists today. Papyrus and leather rot. What exists are handwritten copies, one by one, by scribes who did this work their entire lives. And here comes the fact that usually astonishes those who hear it for the first time: there are more than 5,700 copies. The cataloged Greek manuscripts of the New Testament, not counting the ancient translations into Latin, Syriac, and Coptic, number over a thousand.

No other ancient text comes close to this number, among the best-known classical works of the Greek and Roman world. Some survived in fewer than 10 copies made more than 1,000 years after the author’s death. Something remarkable happened with the Old Testament in 1947. A goatherd threw a stone into a cave near the Dead Sea and heard the sound of breaking pottery. Inside those vessels were scrolls hidden for almost 2,000 years. In the following years, remains of hundreds of manuscripts were found in that region, including an almost complete scroll of the book of Isaiah. Until that moment, the oldest Hebrew copy of the Old Testament was about 1,000 years younger. When scholars compared the two texts word for word, the content was practically the same. The differences were details of spelling and writing, nothing that changed the meaning of a single line. Another thing that almost nobody knows… You know, chapter and verse weren’t part of the original text. The authors wrote continuously without numbers, often even without spaces between words. The chapter division we use today was created by an English scholar named Stephen Langton in the 13th century. And the verse division of the New Testament came later, in the year 1551, by a French printer named Robert Estienne. In the Hebrew Old Testament, verse separation was much older, done by Jewish scribes called Masoretes. This explains why sometimes a chapter ends in the middle of a subject. The number was added centuries later to help locate the text and not to divide the idea.