The Book of Revelation: Worthy Is the Lamb

Revelation 10

Today’s Passage: Revelation 10

After two chapters of trumpets, everything stops. Six angels have sounded, the seventh is still holding his trumpet, and instead of the last blast we get a pause, and the pause is one of the most personal chapters in the whole book. John sees another mighty angel coming down out of heaven, wrapped in a cloud with a rainbow over his head, his face like the sun and his legs like pillars of fire, and in his hand a small scroll lying open. He plants his right foot on the sea and his left on the land, as though the whole earth were a step under him, and he shouts with a voice like a lion’s roar. Seven thunders answer him, and they say something. John lifts his pen, and a voice from heaven stops him: seal it up, do not write it down. Then the angel raises his right hand and swears by the God who lives forever and made everything there is that there will be no more delay, and that in the days of the seventh trumpet the mystery of God will be finished, exactly as He told His servants the prophets. And then the chapter turns and comes for John himself. Go take the scroll, the voice says. He asks for it, and the angel hands it to him with a warning attached: eat it, and it will be honey in your mouth and bitterness in your stomach. He eats. It is both, exactly as promised. And then he is sent back out to prophesy again, about many peoples and nations and tongues and kings.

As you read, hold this: The God who reveals also seals some things up and does not tell us, and the word He does give is sweet as honey to receive and bitter in the stomach to carry.

Context The world of Revelation 10

This chapter sits in a gap on purpose. Revelation has a habit of moving in sevens and then stopping between the sixth and the seventh to let us catch our breath and look at something else. It happened with the seals, where chapter seven stepped aside to show the sealing of God’s servants and the great multitude no one could number, and it happens again here between the sixth trumpet and the seventh. First-century readers who knew their Scriptures would not have found that strange. Hebrew storytelling loves to slow down right before the decisive moment. But it means you should not read chapter ten looking for the next disaster. Nothing is destroyed in it. It is a chapter about a book, a silence, an oath, and a man’s stomach, and it is here because the church needed it more than it needed another plague.

Almost every image in it comes straight out of the Old Testament, which is how this book always works. The mighty angel wrapped in cloud with a face like the sun recalls the shining messenger who came to Daniel by the great river, whose face was like lightning and whose arms and legs gleamed like polished bronze. The rainbow recalls both the throne of chapter four and, further back, the bow God set in the clouds after the flood as the sign of a promise He would keep. The oath sworn with a hand lifted to heaven is Daniel’s again, where a man clothed in linen above the waters of the river raised both hands and swore by Him who lives forever. And the eaten scroll is Ezekiel, plainly and unmistakably: a hand holding out a scroll written on both sides with lamentation and mourning and woe, and a command to eat it before going out to speak. John’s first readers had those passages in their bones. When they heard this chapter they heard a prophet being commissioned the way prophets had always been commissioned, and they understood at once that the man on Patmos stood in that same long line.

One more thing before you begin, because a reader will ask it and honesty requires an answer. Who is this mighty angel? Some Christians have read the cloud, the rainbow, the face like the sun and the voice like a lion and concluded that this can only be the Lord Jesus Himself. Others point out that John says “another mighty angel”, uses the ordinary word for a messenger, and has this figure swear by God, which is not how the Son of God speaks anywhere else in Scripture. Both readings have been held by serious believers who love the text. Scripture does not settle it, and this study will not settle it either. What is not in doubt is whose errand he is on, whose oath he swears, and whose word lies open in his hand.

Revelation 10:1–4 (BSB)

¹ Then I saw another mighty angel coming down from heaven, wrapped in a cloud, with a rainbow above his head. His face was like the sun, and his legs were like pillars of fire. ² He held in his hand a small scroll, which lay open. He placed his right foot on the sea and his left foot on the land. ³ Then he cried out in a loud voice like the roar of a lion. And when he cried out, the seven thunders sounded their voices. ⁴ When the seven thunders had spoken, I was about to put it in writing. But I heard a voice from heaven saying, “Seal up what the seven thunders have said, and do not write it down.”

Take the picture slowly, because it is built to be looked at rather than solved. He comes down from heaven, which matters in a book where so much has been happening upward and out of sight. He is wrapped in a cloud, the ancient covering of God’s presence at Sinai and over the tabernacle. There is a rainbow above his head, and every time a rainbow appears in Scripture it is the sign of a promise God made and intends to keep even when the sky is dark. His face is like the sun, and his legs like pillars of fire, which is the pillar that went before Israel through the wilderness night after night. Every single piece of this figure is borrowed from a scene where God was keeping His word to His people. Then he sets one foot on the sea and one on the land, and there is no third place to stand. The whole of creation is under those two feet. To a small congregation in Asia Minor, watching the sea lanes that brought the empire’s ships and the roads that brought its soldiers, that posture said something they needed to hear: there is no square of this world outside the reach of the God who sent him.

In his hand is a small scroll, and it lies open. Back in chapter five there was a great scroll sealed with seven seals that no one in heaven or on earth was worthy to open until the Lamb took it. This is a smaller one, and it is already unrolled. Whatever the relationship between the two, the point of this one is not its secrecy. It is out in the open and it is about to be handed over.

Then he roars, and the seven thunders answer, and here comes the strangest verse in the chapter. John hears them. They speak actual words, since John understood them well enough to start writing them down. And a voice out of heaven stops his hand: “ sphragizō, pronounced sfrah-GID-zoh. Strong's G4972, to seal, to close and secure with a signet. Sphragizō means to set a seal on something, and in the ancient world a seal did several jobs at once. Pressed into wax or clay by a signet ring, it closed a document so it could not be read, it marked ownership, and it guaranteed that the contents were genuine. This book has already used the word in its warmest sense, when God’s servants were sealed on their foreheads before the trumpets sounded, marked as His and kept. Here it turns the other way: not a mark of ownership on a person, but a lid on a message. John is told to close what he has just heard and leave it closed. And notice how deliberate that is in this book of all books. Its very first word is apokalypsis, an unveiling, a taking off of the cover, and at the very end John will be told the opposite of what he is told here, not to seal up the words of this prophecy because the time is near. So the God who is unveiling almost everything draws one line and says, this part is Mine. Daniel had been told something similar in his day, to shut up the words and seal the book until the time of the end. There is a lesson in the mechanics of it. A sealed scroll is not a destroyed scroll. Nothing has been lost. It is kept, whole and safe, in the hand of the One who holds the ring. what the seven thunders have said, and do not write it down.”

Now be honest about how that lands, because it is a genuinely surprising verse and there is no use pretending otherwise. John is the man who has been told from the beginning to write what he sees, and he has been writing faithfully, and here for the only time the pen is taken out of his hand. Seven thunders spoke and we will never know what they said. Every commentator who has ever guessed has been guessing, and the honest thing is to say so and stop. It is remarkable how uncomfortable that makes us. Give a person a book full of visions and one blank line, and it is the blank line he will worry at for the rest of his life. But hear what the silence actually teaches, because it is one of the healthiest lessons in the whole book: God does not tell us everything, and He is not obliged to, and the things He has withheld are not a gap in His care but a boundary drawn by His wisdom. Moses put it in a single sentence for Israel long before John was born:

"The secret things belong to the LORD our God, but the things revealed belong to us and to our children forever, so that we may follow all the words of this law." Deuteronomy 29:29 (BSB)

The secret things belong to Him. Not to us, and not to the boldest and best-read teacher you will ever hear. And notice the second half, which is where the comfort is: the things revealed belong to us and to our children forever, and they were given so that we would live by them. God has told you everything you need in order to walk with Him today, and He has told it plainly enough that a child can be taught it. Everything He kept back, He kept back on purpose. A book this famous for revealing, pausing to seal one thing up, is a standing rebuke to the appetite for insider knowledge that this book so often stirs up in people. If you find yourself more excited by what you might figure out than by what has already been said, the seven thunders are speaking to you by saying nothing at all.

Revelation 10:5–8 (BSB)

⁵ Then the angel I had seen standing on the sea and on the land lifted up his right hand to heaven. ⁶ And he swore by Him who lives forever and ever, who created heaven and everything in it, the earth and everything in it, and the sea and everything in it: “There will be no more delay! ⁷ But in the days of the voice of the seventh angel, when he begins to sound his trumpet, the mystery of God will be fulfilled, just as He proclaimed to His servants the prophets.” ⁸ Then the voice that I had heard from heaven spoke to me again, saying, “Go, take the small scroll that lies open in the hand of the angel standing on the sea and on the land.”

Here is the courtroom gesture of the ancient world, a hand lifted to heaven to swear, and it is done on the largest possible stage, by a figure standing with one foot on the sea and one on the land. And look at the name he swears by. Not a title of power, but a description of God as the living Creator: “Him who lives forever and ever, who created heaven and everything in it, the earth and everything in it, and the sea and everything in it.” Every clause of that is an answer to a fear. He lives forever, so He will outlast the trouble. He made everything in heaven, so the powers above are His. He made everything on earth, so the empires below are His. He made everything in the sea, so even the chaos the ancients feared most is His workmanship. That is who guarantees what comes next.

And what comes next is one sentence: “There will be no more delay!” Think about who needed to hear that. Back under the fifth seal the souls of the martyrs cried out “How long?”, and they were told to rest a little longer until the number of their fellow servants was complete. Every believer since has prayed some version of that prayer. How long will this go on. How long will the wicked prosper and the church suffer and the world go its way as though God were not there. And here, with a raised hand and an oath, heaven answers: not much longer. The waiting is not forever, and it was never aimless. God’s apparent slowness is not indifference and it is not weakness; the apostle Peter told his readers plainly that the Lord’s patience is His unwillingness that anyone should perish. But the patience has a limit, and the limit is set, and this oath announces that it has nearly been reached.

Then the promise widens into something magnificent. In the days of the seventh trumpet, “the mystērion, pronounced moos-TAY-ree-on. Strong's G3466, mystery, hidden secret now disclosed. Mystērion in ordinary Greek belonged to the secret religions of the day, the initiation cults where you paid your fee, took your vows and were let in on things outsiders were not allowed to know. The New Testament takes the word and turns it completely around. A biblical mystery is not a secret kept from you; it is a secret that has been told. It is something hidden in the counsel of God through long ages and now announced openly to anybody with ears. Paul uses it that way over and over: the mystery is Christ Himself, the mystery is that the nations are made fellow heirs, the mystery is Christ in you, the hope of glory. So when this angel swears that the mystery of God will be fulfilled, he is not promising that a riddle will finally be explained to the clever. He is promising that the long purpose God has been announcing through His prophets since the beginning, to put down evil, to save a people out of every nation, to dwell with them and be their God, will be finished. Not clarified. Completed. And notice the word he attaches to it: just as God proclaimed it to His servants the prophets. The plan being carried out in these terrible chapters is the same plan that Isaiah and Ezekiel and Amos were given. It has not changed and it has not failed. It is simply arriving. of God will be fulfilled, just as He proclaimed to His servants the prophets.”

Amos had said it centuries earlier, in a line that reads almost like a comment on this verse:

"Surely the Lord GOD does nothing without revealing His plan to His servants the prophets." Amos 3:7 (BSB)

Set that beside the sealed thunders and you have the balance of this whole chapter in two facts held together. God keeps some things secret, and God tells His servants what He is doing. Both are true, and neither cancels the other. He is not a God who hides His purpose from the people He loves, and He is not a God who owes anyone a complete explanation. What He has said, He has said in the open, and you may build your whole life on it.

Then the voice speaks again, and it turns to John: go, take the scroll. Not “look at it” and not “be told about it”. Go and take it out of the angel’s hand. The chapter has been a spectacle up to this point, cloud and rainbow and thunder and oath, and now it stops being a spectacle. John has to get up and walk over.

Revelation 10:9–11 (BSB)

⁹ And I went to the angel and said, “Give me the small scroll.” “Take it and eat it,” he said. “It will make your stomach bitter, but in your mouth it will be as sweet as honey.” ¹⁰ So I took the small scroll from the angel’s hand and ate it, and it was as sweet as honey in my mouth. But when I had eaten it, my stomach turned bitter. ¹¹ And they told me, “You must prophesy again about many peoples and nations and tongues and kings.”

Here is the heart of the chapter, and it is worth everything the chapter spent to get here. John asks for the scroll and is told to eat it. Not to read it, not to study it, not to file it away for reference. Eat it. Take it inside you until it is part of your body, until it is doing to you what food does, until you cannot separate yourself from it again. That is the oldest picture in the Bible for what a person is supposed to do with the word of God, and it goes back to a prophet by a river in Babylon who was handed a scroll and given the very same instruction:

"“Son of man,” He said to me, “eat what you find here. Eat this scroll, then go and speak to the house of Israel.” So I opened my mouth, and He fed me the scroll. “Son of man,” He said to me, “eat and fill your stomach with this scroll I am giving you.” So I ate, and it was as sweet as honey in my mouth." Ezekiel 3:1–3 (BSB)

Ezekiel’s scroll was written on both sides with lamentation and mourning and woe, and it still tasted like honey. That is the first thing to notice, and it is a wonder. The word of God is sweet even when its contents are heavy, because of whose word it is. Israel had sung for centuries that the ordinances of the LORD are sweeter than honey from the comb. Any believer who has been genuinely fed by Scripture knows the taste. There is nothing else like the moment a passage opens and you know, past all argument, that God has spoken and you have heard Him.

But John’s account adds something Ezekiel’s does not say, and the addition is the reason this chapter exists. Sweet in the mouth, and then his stomach turned pikrainō, pronounced pik-RYE-noh. Strong's G4087, to make bitter, to embitter. Pikrainō means to make bitter, to embitter, and the adjective behind it, pikros, was used for sharp tastes, brackish water, and, by an easy extension, for grief and hard feeling. It is the word the Greek Old Testament uses at Marah, where Israel came out of the sea singing and three days later found water they could not drink. So this is not a poetic flourish. It is a real and physical word for a real and physical reaction, and John reports it as something that happened to him after the sweetness, not instead of it. Both were true, in that order, and the order is the lesson. God’s word goes down sweet and then sits heavy, because if you actually receive what God says, you will begin to feel about the world something of what He feels about it, and that is not a comfortable thing to carry. Anyone who has ever had to tell a hard truth in love knows both tastes exactly: the joy of holding a word you are certain is from God, and then the ache of standing in front of people you love with it. A ministry that is all honey has not swallowed the scroll. A ministry that is all bitterness has forgotten how it tasted going in. Ask God for both, and be patient with yourself when the second one comes. .

Why bitter? The text does not spell it out, and we should not pretend it does, but the chapters on either side make it plain enough. John has just watched a third of mankind die and the survivors refuse to repent, and he is about to be shown witnesses killed in the street of the great city. To take the purposes of God inside you is to take the sorrow of God inside you, and God’s own word through Ezekiel was that He takes no pleasure in the death of the wicked. A prophet who could deliver these chapters without his stomach turning would not be a prophet at all; he would be a spectator. Understand, then, that the bitterness in John is not doubt and it is not resentment. It is love. It is what happens when a man who loves people learns what is coming for people who will not turn.

And then, having eaten, he is sent. “You must prophēteuō, pronounced prof-ay-TYOO-oh. Strong's G4395, to prophesy, to speak forth God's message for others. Prophēteuō is often misunderstood as meaning simply to predict, and prediction is certainly part of what the prophets did. But the word is broader and better than that. It means to speak forth on behalf of another, to say out loud what you have been given to say by someone else. A prophet is a mouth, not an author. That is why the commission comes immediately after the eating: you cannot speak forth a word you have not first taken in. It is also why the New Testament can hold prophecy in such high honor and yet insist that it be weighed by the church against the Scriptures already given, since a mouth may err in a way that the word it carries never does. For an ordinary believer the encouragement here is very direct, even though John’s office was unique. You will not be handed a scroll by an angel standing on the sea. But you do hold in your hands the words this book was written to preserve, and the pattern still holds: take it in until it is part of you, and then speak it out to whoever God puts in front of you. Sweet first. Then heavy. Then out you go. again about many peoples and nations and tongues and kings.” Notice the word again. He has already written nine chapters. He is not finished, and the second half of this book is still ahead of him. Notice also the reach: peoples, nations, tongues and kings, which is the same fourfold sweep this book uses for the redeemed the Lamb purchased with His blood. The message is not for a corner. And notice, last, the little word “must”, which is heaven’s own necessity laid on him. This is not John’s career. It is his commission, and it comes with the taste still in his mouth.

Study notes Going deeper

Two things in this chapter will follow you home if you let them. The first is the silence. Between the roar of the lion and the raised hand of the oath, seven thunders spoke and God said no, not that, seal it. In a book that pulls back the curtain further than any other, He drew one line and kept something for Himself, and a wise reader learns to love that line instead of picking at it. There is enormous rest in it, honestly. You do not have to know everything. You were never going to be able to hold everything. The God who tells you what you need is the same God who spares you what you could not carry, and both the telling and the withholding come from the same love. If you have been anxious about the parts of this book you cannot untangle, take the sealed thunders as permission to stop. The secret things belong to the LORD our God. What He revealed, He revealed so that you and your children could live by it forever.

The second is the scroll, and this is the one to eat, because it is the whole doctrine of how a person is meant to handle Scripture. Not admire it. Not merely study it, though study it you must. Take it in until it becomes part of your substance and changes what you love and what you grieve over. That is what Jeremiah meant when he described the same experience in his own words, centuries before John and in a far darker season:

"Your words were found, and I ate them. Your words became my joy and my heart’s delight. For I bear Your name, O LORD God of Hosts." Jeremiah 15:16 (BSB)

Your words became my joy and my heart’s delight. Hear that from a man whose ministry cost him nearly everything and who wept his way through it, and you will understand Revelation 10 exactly. The honey and the bitterness are not rivals. They are what the same word tastes like at two different depths, and the man who has known both is the only one fit to be sent. So come to the Scriptures this morning the way John came to the angel: get up, walk over, ask for it, and take it inside. It will gladden you more than anything else in this world, and some of it will grieve you, and then you will find yourself with something to say to the peoples and nations and tongues and kings within your reach. Learn the Word, eat it until it is yours, and give thanks.