The Only One Who Could Open the Book

John was still standing before the throne, with "Holy, holy, holy" ringing all around him, when he saw what the One on the throne was holding.

It was a scroll with writing on the front and the back, sealed shut with seven seals. (In those days a book was a long sheet rolled up like a towel, and a seal was a blob of wax pressed on with a ring.) Everything God planned for the world was written inside.

A mighty angel called out in a voice that reached every corner of heaven. "Who is worthy to break the seals and open the scroll?"

Silence. No one in heaven, on earth, or under the earth could open the scroll, or even look inside it.

John cried and cried, with tears running into his beard, because no one anywhere was worthy to open the scroll, and if it stayed shut, nothing written in it could happen.

One of the elders leaned over. "Stop crying," he said. "Look! The Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has won the victory. He can open the scroll."

So John wiped his eyes and looked for a lion.

He saw a Lamb.

It stood right in the middle of everything, between the throne and the elders, and it looked as if it had been killed. The wounds still showed. It had seven horns and seven eyes. (A horn means strength, and seven means complete. This Lamb had all the strength there is, and its eyes saw into every corner of the earth.)

The Lamb walked up and took the scroll out of God's right hand.

The four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell on their faces. Each elder held a harp and a golden bowl of incense, and the sweet smoke rising from it was the prayers of God's people. They sang a brand-new song:

"You are worthy to open the scroll, because you were killed, and with your blood you bought people for God from every tribe and language and nation! You made them a kingdom and priests to serve our God, and they will reign on the earth."

Then came the angels, ten thousand times ten thousand of them, and thousands of thousands more. (If you counted one angel a second, day and night, without stopping to eat or sleep, you would still be counting three years later.) "Worthy is the Lamb who was killed!" they sang.

Every creature joined in, birds in the sky, animals on the land, fish in the dark of the sea: "Praise and glory to the One on the throne and to the Lamb, forever and ever!"

"Amen!" said the four living creatures, and the elders fell down and worshiped.

Ever since the days of Moses, God's people had brought lambs to the altar. Each lamb died for someone's wrong, and then another was needed, and another. Not one of them could have taken a scroll out of God's hand. Jacob had said a lion would come from Judah, and Isaiah had said someone would be led like a lamb to be killed. No one guessed they meant the same person.

But this Lamb was standing. A lamb that has been killed does not get up again. John had seen those wounds before. A week after his friend rose, he held out his hands to doubting Thomas and said, "Put your finger here." The Lion had won by being the Lamb. Now the scarred hands of Jesus held the scroll of the world, and every word written in it would come true.