In the vision of the seven trumpets (Revelation 8:5-11:19), John is shown a series of judgment warnings against a rebellious world. After the sixth trumpet, and before the seventh and final trumpet, John is given an additional vision, it is an interlude, if you will, intended to assure God’s people that the gospel will prevail (10:11), the church is indestructible (11:5), and that he will reign for ever and ever (11:15).
In this march of triumph towards the end, the Church is not to give up on the commission to take the message of the gospel to the nations–“to many peoples and nations and tongues, and kings (10:11). The Lord confirms this to John. In a vision of a mighty angel with a little book opened in his hand, John is told to take the book, eat it and prophesy.
The imagery used in this vision is not new, for this language was used in the Old Testament. Ezekiel was told to eat the scroll (Ezekiel 2:9-10) and Jeremiah also (Jeremiah 16:15). There are two things connected to this image of “eating” the Word of God.
First, the word is life-giving and nourishing (1 Corinthians 3:1-2; 1 Peter 2:2, see also John 6:55). Second, and this is the point being made in Revelation 10:9-10, the Word must be internalised and assimilated into the life of the preacher. As one commentator put it, the Church is not simply to gaze on the glories and power of the gospel but to “present herself as an instrument of that power,” as John is called to do here (James B. Ramsey). He must own the message. The messenger must become part of the message. Just as the Old Testament prophets carried the “burden of the Lord” to the people, God’s message must become his preacher’s message. This was particularly true of Hosea whose marriage to a prostitute became a representation of God’s relationship with prostituting Israel (Hosea 1:2).
Here, in Revelation 10, John is told to take and eat the scroll and that it would become bitter to his stomach but in his mouth it would be sweet as honey (10:9). The sweetness of the gospel is clear, as any one will testify who has experienced the implanted spiritual life of regeneration (see Psalm 19:10, and also Psalm 34:8; 119:103). The bitterness in this text is a little more difficult to identify and there have been various views put forward. Each one of these is worthy of further study in its own right, for each one brings into clear relief the tension between the glories of the gospel and the cost of discipleship.
First, the message of the gospel is sweet for those who believe, but it comes with judgment also on the unbeliever. It is a “doubleedged prophecy concerning the nations” – a message of judgment on the one hand, and salvation on the other (Dennis E. Johnson, John Walvoord). Johnson argues that from this point in the Revelation, John concentrates on humanity’s delusion and rebelling, and says that “only once from this point on [in the Revelation] do we hear good news preached (14:6-7). Where this interpretation falls short, however, is that it removes the bitterness from the messenger and places it with those who receive the message, i.e. the judgment. John is clear that the bitterness was felt in his own stomach, not among those who refuse the gospel. Having said that, both Johnson and Walvoord see this as one aspect of the bitterness and point also to the bitterness of persecution (see point three).
Second, the message of the gospel is sweet, but it is filled with lamentations and woe (John MacAutur, David L. Akin, Michael Wilcock, Leon Morris, Paul Gardner, G.R. Beasley-Murray, Robert H. Mounce). Those who argue for this show that while the believer may enjoy the sweetness of the gospel, “it caused pain when its grim nature was grasped and declared” (G.R. Beasley-Murray). In the case of Ezekiel, the bitterness in the stomach was in fact because he was sent to his own people, the house of Israel (Ezekiel 3:4). Likewise, Mounce argues, “the sweet scroll that turns the stomach sour is a message for the church,” for John is told to prophesy again, to “many peoples and nations and languages and kings,” after he eats the scroll (10:11).
Third, the message of the gospel is sweet, but we must face a persecuting world (William William Hendrickson, Dennis E. Johnson, John Walvoord, James B. Ramsey, John Gill; G.B. Caird). Although the Church is invincible (11:5-6), Johnson says, it is also “vulnerable to the attack of the beast out of the abyss” (11:7-8). The redemptive work of Christ, says Cairn, “is to be made effective through the martyr witness of the Church.”
Fourth, the message of the gospel is sweet but there is a personal cost attached. Those who argue this position (Simon Kistemaker), and it is closely linked with the previous point, see the connection to Revelation 11:3-10 and connect it also to Mattew 10:35-36, where members of households will be turned against one another (Matthew 10:35-36). Those who follow the Lamb must count the cost. Are we willing to give up our earthly family for a spiritual and eternal family? Jesus tells us that unless we are willing to forego our earthly family in preference to Jesus, we cannot be his disciple (Luke 14:26).
Fifth, the message of the gospel is sweet, but the inner struggle of transformation is painful (Hermon Hoeksema, James B. Ramsey). Ramsey develops the theme of spiritual sorrow that comes when we inwardly digest the truths of the gospel. “The secret and deep corruptions of the soul,” he says “are never eradicated without many a secret pang.” Hoeksema speaks of the “after-effects” of the gospel, for “however sweet it was when taken and swallowed by faith … it causes bitterness and struggle till the medicine of the Word of God has done its work and transformed us.”
The Church today does not put the same emphasis on self-examination as it did previously, but every true Christian has felt the sourness in the stomach as he/she digests the truths of the Gospel, and the pain of putting to death the pride and lust of the flesh, and there is a clear tread of this through the history of the church.
Paul wrestled with it, and cried “Wretched man that I am!” Augustine, the great North-African theologian recognised the human bent towards self from his infancy, even from the womb (Book 1.7), and in his youth, he says “I loved my fall, I loved my sin” (Book 3.1), and the more he looked inward, he became a riddle to himself (Book 4.4).
Paul’s “wretched man” was echoed in Luther’s “Miserable Sinner Christianity.” We could learn something of self-examination and the bitter after-effects of the gospel from the Medieval church with its emphasis on confession and the fear of judgment. It was this that drove Luther, the “miserable sinner.” into the arms of the Saviour. As Newton later said, “T’was grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved.” It was echoed again among the reformers as the doctrine of Total Depravity crystallized, and again among the Puritans in what has been called, “worm theology,” taken presumably from Isaac Watts’ hymn, Alas! And Did My Savior Bleed, “…for such a worm as I.”
This painful struggle of spiritual formation, although emphasised to greater or lesser degrees through history, is foundational to our growth in grace and our maturing in the faith, until Christ is formed in us (Galatians 4:19).
The gospel is bittersweet, but in a happy irony, the bitterness of the gospel does in itself lead us to sweetness. Augustine said:
“How is it then that we cull from the bitterness of life the sweet fruits of groans and tears, of sighs and complaints? Is this the sweetness; that we hope that thou does hear? This is true of our prayers, because in them we yearn to reach thee.” (Book 4.5).