*This piece was originally written for a course on the Book of Revelation in March 2021.*
Introduction
The book of Revelation is unusual for its assertion of authorship by an historical “John” rather than a biblical hero or ancestor. This authorial claim raises a number of questions. Is the author indistinguishable from John the seer,[1] or is the latter a mere literary fiction? If so, would this authorial fiction make a difference? What does Revelation’s reception history reveal about how John’s identity was understood? More importantly, how does the author understand himself? How is the visionary “I” constructed and developed over the course of the text? Can the seer’s bizarre visions be read as as instructive revelations of an idealized author, or as authentic hallucinations of an historical author? This paper will argue that John constructed himself as a new paradigmatic prophet, and his role as a medium of spirits, claim of divine textual origin, and disclosure of identity, furthers this shift in visionary authority.
A Case of Mistaken Identity?
Is Revelation’s author, in fact, the same as the John they write about? Is he an authorial fiction, or could he be drawing on a known “John”? Early on in its reception history, because of their names, John the seer was sometimes conflated with John the apostle. Justin Martyr (c.150 CE) and Irenaeus (c.180 CE) conflated them,[2] while others such as Papias (2nd c. CE) referred to two separate John’s, the apostle and a “presbyter.” Eusebius (300’s CE) believed the latter could be the John of Revelation.[3] The literary tradition also seems to conflate them. The Apocryphon of John (2nd c. CE) identifies its titular figure as the apostle John, but also represents him as a seer, a role that Revelation’s John held, not the apostle. While not as explicit as the others listed here, the Apocryphon does seem to conflate the two as one figure.
Did Revelation’s author intend for this identification with the apostle, and intentionally construct “John” this way? Dionysius of Alexandria (mid-200’s CE) wrote that some in his time believed Revelation was a fake which claimed apostolic authority for credibility. But Dionysius noted differences in style, phraseology, and focus between Revelation and Johannine literature. He pointed out that the apostle never named himself in the Gospel (as he presumed Johannine authorship), while Revelation’s John did (1.1, 2, 4, 9; 22.7, 8).[4] He also noted the reference to the Apostles in John’s vision of the New Jerusalem (Rev. 21.14), and one would imagine a hint of surprise or pride at seeing his name inscribed, if he was indeed the apostle.
Frederick J. Murphy comments, “The very confusion of both ancient and modern authors about which John could be meant argues against pseudonymity, since, for the ascription of a book to a false author to be effective, the reader must know who the alleged author is. There really is no evidence that ‘John’ is a pseudonym”.[5] One would tend to agree. Even it it was a pseudonym, there is only so much that could be speculated about its “real” author. Along with this, most critical scholars agree that John the apostle and John the seer are different individuals.[6] Thus, we will assume that the John the seer is indistinguishable from the author, and that he is not John the the apostle. Further, we will assume that he did not intend to be identified with the apostle, or he would have made the association stronger than mere name.[7]
John’s Construction of the Visionary “I”
How did John see himself? Where does his authority come from? In his prologue, he identifies the Son of Man, not an angelus interpres, as the revelator of his text, and John is his transmitter. This provides his text with a divine origin, in which John is simply the receptor and scribe of oral revelations from the divine. Notably, his prologue also parallels with the openings of Isaiah, Hosea, and Amos. Murphy notes, “These parallels suggest that John sees himself as a prophet like the Biblical prophets,”[8] and that he “self-consciously writes a book of prophecy, which makes him unique among the known prophets of earliest Christianity but similar to the biblical writing prophets.”[9] These parallels continue throughout Revelation.
In speaking of earlier Jewish apocalypses, Christopher Rowland says that the seers were often “inspired by the study of Scripture.”[10] John may have also been inspired this way. His visions could be read as instructive revelations, a kind of prophetic hortatory borne out of careful study and reformulations of Biblical traditions. These revelations would bring the reader/hearer into his visionary world to imagine the divine judgments of their enemies, consequences of sin, and reward for the righteous. This reformulation can also be seen, for instance, in the text’s parallels with Ezekiel. David Frankfurter contends that John used Ezekiel as a “model for prophecy inspired by text and expressed in text, and a prophecy that revealed truths about priesthood, the Temple, and the manifestation of God… John thus presents himself as a new Ezekiel.”[11] As someone acquainted with earlier traditions, John draws upon the authority of those before him, but also sets forth new ways of being a prophet in disclosing his own identity, claiming his text as direct divine revelation, and sometimes even surpassing the activities of prophets before him.[12]
Authentic Hallucinations of a Seer?
But perhaps John’s revelatory visions are more than mere instructive revelations of a one drawing on earlier traditions. What if he is, in fact, a seer? While some apocalypses, such as 4 Ezra, are highly suggestive of actual visionary experiences and practice, Revelation is lacking in many sensory and affective details often connected to induced altered states. For example, John does not reveal whether he is having visions of an oneiric nature or hypgnagogic hallucinations, nor do we find him consuming flowers,[13] weeping deeply, fasting excessively, or having a shamanic journey of ascent. However, John does twice indicate that he is “in the spirit” (1.9-10; 4.2; cf. Ezek 8.3-4; 11.5), which seems to signal a trance-like condition.
Indeed, while “in the spirit,” John acts as a medium in which numerous spirit voices break through, the textual results of which are often nonsensical. On this point, Murphy notes, “from time to time the prophetic spirit overwhelms him so that oracles emerge in the text that seem somewhat out of place.”[14] This is seen particularly in his prologue where oracular spirits take over (1.4-8), as well as the Son of Man’s epistolary dictations where John appears possessed as the Son of Man speaks through him (2.1-3.22), and the close of the text, in which the many spirit voices are muddled (22.8-21; cf. 14.13; 16.15).
This can be compared to visionary experiences of shamans in modernity. I.M. Lewis observes that in a trance, the shaman is possessed by various spirits who speak through him, while the individual’s soul is journeying to the upper or lower world.[15] While in this state, the shaman “relentlessly probes into the conduct of the guilty party in his search for breaches of taboo which will account for the calamity which he is called upon to remedy.”[16] He adds that this form of inspirational possession sees “those chosen by the gods and personally commissioned by them to exercise divine authority among men.”[17] So too in Revelation, the different spirits call down morality and purity-based judgments on humanity, through John as the possessed transcriber, while his soul is journeying through the upper world.
Summary
Where does this discussion about the identity, construction, experiences and intention of Revelation’s author lead to? In disclosing his own identity rather than writing under a pseudonym, John took a risk that his visions would be discounted. But by rooting the text’s origins in divine authority, he shifts the authorial claim to God himself. In doing so, there is no need for a Biblical hero or ancestor, because the text comes directly from the divine. Revelation also appears to preserve both authentic hallucinations and instructive revelations of a new, idealized prophet. The experience of multiple spirit possession may have even been traumatic for John, to say nothing of the horrific beasts and gruesome deaths throughout the course of his visions. Perhaps because of these experiences, John drew on the Biblical prophetic traditions he knew in order to make sense of them. But in the process, John also understood that he differed from those who came before, and he became the exemplar for a new prophetic paradigm, one rooted in divine origin and visionary authority.
Endnotes
[1] While he could also be called “John of Patmos,” his role as a seer is highlighted here to focus on his visionary experiences.
[2] Timothy Beal, The Book of Revelation. Lives of Great Religious Books (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2018.), 40-41.
[3] Ibid., 42.
[4] Ibid.
[5] Frederick James Murphy, Fallen Is Babylon: The Revelation to John, The New Testament in Context (Harrisburg, Pa.: Trinity Press International, 1998.), 34-35.
[6] Ibid., 35; Beal, Book of Revelation, 40-42.
[7] Even so, this non-use of a pseudonym in apocalyptic literature is curious. In the 2nd century BCE, Daniel gained authority by making a pseudepigraphic claim, as have the various Enochic texts over the centuries. Several 2nd century CE authors continued this tradition, claiming to be Peter, Paul, the Twelve Patriarchs, Isaiah, and others. The Shepherd of Hermas, however, is an example of a seer using his own name. Paired with Revelation, this may indicate a general trend among some in the early Jesus movement in which visions were recorded without the use of a pseudonym, and the divine origin of the revelations were emphasized more. Yet as noted, other apocalyptic texts from the time show that this disclosure of identity was not common, and textual authority shifted back to pseudepigraphic claims.
[8] Murphy, Fallen is Babylon, 60.; John’s refers to “words of the prophecy” (1.3; cf. 19:10; 22:7, 10, 18, 19).
[9] Ibid., 37.
[10] Christopher Rowland, The Open Heaven: A Study of Apocalyptic in Judaism and Early Christianity (New York: Crossroad, 1982.) 246.
[11] David Frankfurter, footnotes for Revelation in The Jewish Annotated New Testament New Revised Standard, ed. Amy-Jill Levine and Marc Zvi Brettler (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017.), 548.
[12] This may also be in Rev. 4, in which John is taken directly to the heavenly throne room. While other apocalypses describe an ascent through the different heavens, John literally rises above those who have gone before him and is granted direct access to the throne. Further, while other prophets such as Daniel were told to seal up their words, John is instructed not to (Dan. 12.4, 9; Rev 22.10).
[13] It is worth noting that like Ezekiel, John does consume a scroll in heaven (Rev. 3.3-4; Ezek 10:8-11). However, this appears to be more of a consumption of heavenly knowledge than a nod to narcotics.
[14] Murphy, Fallen is Babylon, 77.
[15] Lewis, Ecstatic Religion, 146.
[16] Ibid.
[17] Ibid., 152.
Bibliography
Christopher Rowland, The Open Heaven: A Study of Apocalyptic in Judaism and Early Christianity. New York: Crossroad, 1982.
David Frankfurter, footnotes for Revelation in The Jewish Annotated New Testament New Revised Standard, ed. Amy-Jill Levine and Marc Zvi Brettler. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017.
Frederick James Murphy, Fallen Is Babylon: The Revelation to John, The New Testament in Context. Harrisburg, Pa.: Trinity Press International, 1998.
I.M. Lewis, Ecstatic Religion: A Study of Shamanism and Spirit Possession, London; New York: Routledge, 2003.
Timothy Beal, The Book of Revelation. Lives of Great Religious Books, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2018.
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