(3) And cried with a loud voice . . .—Better, and he cried with a loud voice, even as a lion roareth. Another token of the presence of Christ with the Church. The voice is the voice of a courage and strength derived from Him who is the “Lion of the tribe of Judah.”
And when he had cried . . .—Translate, and when he cried, the seven thunders (notice, not seven thunders,” but “the seven thunders”) spake their own voices. The thunders are called the seven thunders to bring them before us as another order of sevens, and into harmony with the seven seals, the seven trumpets, the seven vials. Thus we have four sets of sevens. It was not a seven-fold peal of thunder, but seven thunders, which spake forth distinctly their own voices. This marked language brings the seven thunders, though their utterances are never revealed, into prominence as a portion of the Apocalyptic system. But what were these thunders? Were they more terrible judgments still? and did the sealing of them signify the shortening of the days of judgment, as Christ had said (Matthew 24:22)? It may be so. One thing seems certain—the guesses which have been hazarded (such as that they are identical with the trumpets; that they are the seven crusades) can hardly be admitted. Whatever they were, they were perfectly intelligible to the Evangelist. He was on the point of writing down their utterances. Will this fact help us to understand the general object of their introduction here?

(4) And when the seven . . .—Translate, And when the seven thunders spoke, I was about to write: and I heard a voice out of the heaven, saying, Seal up the things which the. seven thunders spoke, and write them not. He could have written down their utterances. It was no mere thunder-like sound he heard: the thunders spoke; and he would have continued his writing as he had been commanded (Revelation 1:11) had not the voice out of heaven forbidden him. The utterances, then, are for those who hear them; they are not to be made generally known. Is it not the solemn, sacred, divine voice not to be known by all, but by those who have ears to hear when “the God of glory thundereth?” “Lo ! He doth send forth His voice, yea, and that a mighty voice” (Psalms 68:33). Mankind may hear the thunder; only those whose ears God has opened can hear the utterances and the inspiriting messages which they bring. So was it once in our Lord’s life. The people said it thundered; some thought an angel spake; but there were articulate words which He who came to do God’s will, in whose heart was God’s law, heard, and to Him that thunderlike voice promised to “glorify His name” (John 12:28-29). Similarly here, the Evangelist (who is in this but a type of the true witnesses for God), who is to prophecy before peoples and kings (Revelation 10:11), hears words spoken by the divine voice which make him strong for his mission. It is so evermore. Dull ears there are who hear thunder, but never God’s voice; dim eyes there are which see no trace of the divine craftsman in all nature, though
“Earth’s crammed with God,
And every common bush aglow with Him.”
The thunders are not to be written down; they are for those who have ears to hear.

(10) And I took . . .—The Evangelist takes the roll, as he was bidden, out of the angel’s hand, eats it up, and finds it, as he was told, “in his mouth as honey, sweet.” In this his experience resembles that of Ezekiel, who found the roll in his mouth as honey for sweetness (Ezekiel 3:3). So the Psalmist could rejoice in God’s words and God’s law as sweet, sweeter than honey and the honeycomb (Psalms 119:103; Psalms 19:10). He who is ready to endure bitterness in his fidelity to God must not only be interpenetrated by divine teaching; he must have also realised its sweetness, or else, however pleasant his words may sound, they will lack the sweetness which is as needful to the words of the teacher as to the songs of the poet. But the after effect of the sweet-tasting roll is bitterness. Ezekiel makes no mention of this bitterness; yet we know how much his fidelity to the words he loved so well must have cost him when he was bidden to arm himself with a flinty determination (Ezekiel 3:9-14; Ezekiel 2:6-7), and the patient courage of one whose lot was among thorns and briars and scorpions. It must always be so. The love of Christ may constrain men, but the very ardour of their affections must bring them through tribulation, and may make them as outcasts, defamed, persecuted, slain. The flaming zeal to emancipate mankind from thraldoms, follies, and ruinous sins may stir the soul with a holy joy; but there come moments when men are almost tempted to turn back, and to think that they have undertaken a hopeless task, when they find how slow is their progress, and what new and unexpected difficulties arise. Such was the bitterness which Moses felt: “Why is it that Thou hast sent me? For since I came to Pharaoh to speak in Thy name, he hath done evil to this people; neither hast Thou delivered thy people at all.” The most enthusiastic souls who love their fellow-men, and who feel how sweet and high is their calling, perhaps feel most of this bitterness. Their very love makes all failure very bitter to bear; yet is it through this martyrdom of failure that the noblest victories are won.

(11) And he . . .—Better, And they (not “he,” as in the English version, but they say: an equivalent for “It was said,”) say to me, Thou must again prophesy concerning (or, with regard to) peoples, and nations, and tongues, and kings many. He is told that the bitterness will arise in connection with his prophecies with regard to peoples and kings. This carries us on to the vision in the next chapter, where the two witnesses stand so solitary, and prophesy so mightily, yet so vainly, among men. He will have to tell the story of churches and peoples, priests and princes, unmindful of their high calling and their allegiance to their true king, and of their hatred of God’s mightiest and purest witnesses. The end, indeed, will come. The Church will be victorious. The kingdoms of this world will become the kingdoms of Christ: but it will be through persecutions, apostasies, judgments. This is the sad vision he must describe. The interposed visions will answer the question, “What has the Church been doing?” but it will show how she has done that work, distressed by heresies, crippled by worldliness, trodden down by enemies, and, worse than enemies, foes veiled as friends. But this very vision will lead to the unfolding of the more truly spiritual aspects of the Church’s work, and of that conflict in which she contends with the multiform spirit and power of evil. Thus will he prophesy of peoples and kings many.