The First Horseman of the Apocalypse by Zane Hodges -=- InTheBeginning.org

Bibliotheca Sacra, October, 1962, volume 119.
Published with written permission of the author and Dallas Theological Seminary

Although the book of Revelation has always provided a fertile field for differing interpretations, few-if any-of its prophetic visions have received more widely divergent explanation that that of the first of the famous four horsemen of the Apocalypse. Among the numerous interpretations advanced by expositors, two viewpoints in particular are remarkable for their extreme divergence. On the one hand, the first horseman of the Apocalypse has sometimes been identified as Christ, and on the other hand as Antichrist. Obviously, it would be impossible to choose two identifications more diametrically opposed than these.

The oldest interpretation of the first apocalyptic rider of Revelation 6 is undoubtedly that of Irenaeus (d. 202), whose teacher, Polycarp, had known the Apostle John face to face. In his work Against Heresies Irenaeus leaves no doubt as to his view of the matter when he states, “For to this end was the Lord born…of whom also John says in the Apocalypse: ‘He went forth conquering, that he should conquer.’ ” In this Irenaeus has found some followers among modern commentators, but others, while close to this view, have tended to impersonalize the vision to a greater or less extent. The opposite view that the rider represents the future Gentile world-ruler, or Antichrist, is of special interest for the present discussion because of its popularity with many-if not most-dispensational expositors. It seems to prevail in dispensational literature. Yet despite this fact, it is the contention of this study not only that the older view that the rider is Christ is correct, but that this view harmonizes more consistently with the dispensational system revealed in prophecy.

At the outset, it is important to observe that none of the symbolic elements of the first horseman are found elsewhere in Scripture specifically applied to that coming world ruler who is often spoken of as Antichrist. Whatever applications are made to him from this vision must, therefore, be made purely by analogy with facts elsewhere revealed about him. In sharp contrast to this, every feature of the vision is found elsewhere in Scripture in connection with the Lord Jesus Christ and hence, the interpretation which identifies the rider with Him has roots far deeper in Biblical symbolism. This in itself necessarily constitutes a powerful argument both against the former view and in favor of the latter. What is more, it is an argument which increasingly gains in force the more the relevant Biblical passages are considered.

It is, of course, obvious to all expositors that the vision of the four horsemen in the Apocalypse immediately suggests the visions of Zechariah 1:7-11 and 6: 1-8. It is clear, despite considerable differences in detail, the material of Revelation 6:1-8 finds its true Scriptural prototype in these Old Testament passages. Thus it is highly significant that in both sections of Zechariah’s prophecy there is plain intimation that divine, rather than Satanic agencies are in view (Cf. Zech. 1:10 and 6:5). And with this the vision of Revelation 6 is in full accord, for the horsemen are intimately connected with the throne scene of chapter 5 and are the only active agents of judgment in the Apocalypse which are directly summed by the living creatures which surround that throne. Everything in the setting out of which the horsemen emerge suggests divine agency, and there is absolutely nothing in the background of the first rider which even remotely suggests the hideous Satanic tool of the later chapters. On the contrary, the suggestion of divine agency comports perfectly in this regard with Zechariah’s visions, out of which the apostle’s clearly arose.

In addition to the general agreement of Revelation and Zechariah in presenting divine agencies under the symbol of horsemen-a symbol never used to represent the “man of sin”-a further helpful fact emerges from a comparison of the two prophecies. It is not a little striking to observe that, in the first vision of Zechariah, the man among the myrtle trees is none other than the angel of the Lord whose intercession on behalf of Jerusalem (Zech. 1:12-13) points unmistakably to a theophany. Thus here, as elsewhere the angel of the Lord is the pre-incarnate Christ, and so it happens that the first horseman of Zechariah is none other than the Son of God. If the first horseman of Revelation is also Christ, an additional remarkable bond between the two prophecies becomes apparent.

Another Old Testament passage often cited as suggestive for the identification of Revelation’s first rider is Psalm 45. In that significant Psalm, the Son of God-“the king”-appears as a triumphant rider and the statement of verse 4, ”…in thy majesty ride prosperously,” is very parallel in thought to the words of Revelation 6:2, “…and he went forth conquering, and to conquer.” The parallel becomes even more remarkable, however, when the Psalmist proceeds (in vs. 5) to describe the prosperous ride with the words, “Thine arrows [italics ours] are sharp in the heart of the king’s enemies; whereby the people fall under thee,” for the rider of Revelation 6 is armed with nothing less than a bow! Nor is the ultimate victory of the rider of Psalm 45 any different than that for which the horseman of Revelation 6 goes forth, for the Psalmist continues (vs. 6), “Thy throne [italics ours], O God, is forever and ever: the scepter of thy kingdom is a right scepter.” These words, applied by Hebrews 1:8 to the Son, can hardly fail to arrest attention in the light of the connection of the apocalyptic horseman of Revelation 6 with the throne of Revelation 5. Whatever interpretation is given to the horseman, it is clear that he functions directly for the purpose of advancing the cause of that throne, and-viewed as Christ-his ultimate victory would then be the final and eternal establishment of the divine throne, the throne of God and the Lamb. From the standpoint of parallelism and community of idea, the opposing view that the first horseman symbolizes the “man of sin” is utterly destitute of any comparable Biblical reference.

The most obvious Biblical parallel, of course, has yet to be mentioned. It is a parallel which must necessarily gain additional weight because it forms a part of the very prophetic book in which this first horseman appears. It is significant in the highest degree that, just as the first horseman of the Apocalypse rides a white horse, so also does the last horseman of the Apocalypse. What is more, the first horseman of Revelation issues forth at the commencement of divine judgments upon earth and the last horseman issues forth at the consummation of these judgments. The horseman of chapter 6 represents victory in prospect-“he went forth…to conquer”-and the horseman of chapter 19 represents victory realized. Such symmetry cannot be undersigned. It seems apparent that the two horsemen have some kind of integral relationship within the book.

Against the natural inclination of the reader to identify the white-horsed rider of Revelation 6 with the white-horsed rider of Revelation 19, it has been urged by expositors that, in fact, they are more different than alike. The first horseman carries a bow, the last a sword. The first is given a crown (stephanos), while the second wears many crowns (diademata). But the argument from differences seems a little out of place when followed by an effort, in effect, to identify the first horseman with the wild beast of Revelation 13. This in itself weakens the objection considerably.

Before considering what reasons may after all account for the differences in detail between Revelation 6:2 and Revelations 19:11-16, attention needs to be more specifically directed toward the literary structure of the intervening portion of the book. Once this is done, a striking parallelism in composition emerges. First of all, it is observed that the section comprising chapters 5-18 is primarily built around three series of judgments, each series being seven fold in nature. These are the familiar and oft-noticed seven seals, seven trumpets, and seven vials. But what is more, it can be further observed that each series is preceded by a scene in heaven which serves as a prologue for it; and in each series, between the sixth and the seventh member, there intervenes a parenthetical scene focusing upon earth. In addition, in the case of the trumpets and vials there follows the seventh member of the series a lengthy postlude directly related to the contents of the seventh judgment. There is no postlude to the seventh seal for the obvious reason that this seal has no specific content, presenting “silence in heaven about the space of half an hour” (8:1) Accordingly, the balanced scheme of this body of the Apocalypse may be presented as follows:

But another feature of this remarkable plan of composition demand attention. It is evident upon close scrutiny that each of the three sevenfold series brings the reader right up to the very end, yet dramatically withholds the final climax. Thus the sixth seal (6:12-17) presents a state of things which we know from Matthew 24:29-30 immediately follows the great tribulation and immediately precedes the second advent of the Lord Jesus Christ. Yet the seventh seal-delayed by the intervening seventh chapter-is unexpectedly anticlimactic. Likewise the seventh trumpet leads us to expect an immediate description of the Second Advent (cf. 10:7; 11:15) but is followed by an extremely lengthy postlude which fails to present it. In turn, the seventh vial, the last of the seven last plagues, is so described as to invite expectation of the climax (cf. 16:17 and compare 16:20 with 6:14), yet once more a long postlude is introduced. Accordingly it is evident that, with consummate literary technique, the apostolic author builds up to what is clearly the most dramatic moment of his whole apocalypse-the sudden appearing of the all-prevailing Rider upon the white horse.

In light of this inspired literary plan, it becomes immediately obvious why the first horseman of the Apocalypse is so described as to leave the reader at that point without the sure means of identifying him. Unless one has read the Apocalypse before, it is hard to discern, apart from a thorough knowledge of Old Testament imagery, just exactly who is intended. The Christian reader, who can clearly identify the Lamb of chapter 5 as the Son of God, may momentarily hesitate to make this same identification with a different figure however tempting the description of his all-conquering course may be to do so. And it is just this tantalizing state of suspense that the Spirit-directed author maintains with such skill until at last he presents in his climactic section the basis whereby the reader may identify the conquering rider as the King of kings and Lord of lords.

Yet another illuminating point, however, is to be gleaned from the aura of mystery which surrounds the first horseman of Revelation 6, but which is dispelled in resplendent glory in Revelation 19. It is this: in Revelation 6, the rider issues forth before any of the judgments of the tribulation are presented, whereas in Revelation 19 the rider issues forth after all of these judgments have been recorded. Precisely so, the triumphant Christ will ride forth prior to the great tribulation as well as after it. And thus there is suggested in Revelation 6 that initial aspect of the Second Advent known as the rapture of the church. Indeed, it cannot be doubted that one of the great triumphs of the Lord Jesus Christ will be that moment when His bride-whom He desires ultimately to display to a wondering world-is snatched from a hostile earth and, victorious over her every enemy, is caught up to meet Him in the air. In this light, additional significance attaches to the fact that the rider of Revelation 6 goes forth “conquering.” The rapture then would be the very first of the many triumphs which the horseman sets out to achieve. Accordingly, it can be seen that the tantalizing vagueness of the first horseman and his activities harmonizes well, not only with the literary plan of the section he introduces, but also with the mysterious and, no doubt, secret character of the rapture of the church which occurs at this time.

No doubt it will be objected to this that, to present the event of Revelation 6:2 as synchronous with the rapture of the church and contrast it with Revelation 19, is to presume for this section of the Apocalypse, a chronological sequence which does not exist. In reply, it can be pointed out that while the seven seals, seven trumpets, and seven vials are overlapping and not chronologically successive one to the other, within each series there is no reason to doubt a chronological order. In fact, the very technique of suspense previously considered argues powerfully that this is the case. Each series ends with events immediately preceding the glorious appearing of Christ as King and consequently the events preceding the final member of the series must therefore be chronologically antecedent to it. And if so, why not also chronologically successive? But even if this be disputed, the fact still remains that the first horseman of the Apocalypse is presented before any tribulation judgments are recorded just as the last horseman appears after all are recorded. Nothing can alter the fact that such an order, however general, agrees perfectly with the order of events presupposed by a pre-tribulation rapture and is therefore absolutely consistent with it.

In the light of this, it seems a little strange that the majority of dispensational expositors of the Apocalypse have not seen the almost uniquely suitable setting of Revelation 6:2 in relation to the rapture of the church. Indeed, it is common to regard the catching up to heaven of the Apostle John in chapter 4 as representing the rapture of the church as found in Revelation. But this view of things suffers considerably from the obvious weakness that it is related to an experience of the inspired seer himself and not to any prophetic event foreseen by him. While there is no need to deny that the apostle’s experience, coming as it does immediately after his message to the churches, may have illustrative value in this connection, it fails to face the difficulty that so great an event as the rapture must surely be is thereby left without any place in the actual revelations made to him. While such a difficulty would by no means negate the truth of the rapture itself-a truth which rests firmly on other portions of Scripture-it should not be permitted to stand without the most careful scrutiny of the whole book.

In this very connection, it is important to observe that, although the actual translation of the church is unmentioned by the Apocalypse, such a translation is assumed by the appearance of the wife already perfected prior to the King’s royal advent (Rev. 19:7-8; cf. Eph. 5:22-33). Further, the total absence of the word church, or any figure clearly identified with it between chapters 3 and 19, is an additional weighty implication that somehow it has been removed from the scene. The first horseman of the Apocalypse serves therefore to complete the picture by presenting the agency through which the removal has been effected, though the mystery of the disappearance, along with the identity of the rider himself, finds no solution until the Lamb’s wife is suddenly unveiled along with Him. In fact, a remarkable procedure thereby becomes evident. For the observant reader of the Apocalypse, noting clear allusions to Israel after chapter 5 but none to the church, is left to wonder as to its whereabouts and state until at last this puzzlement is ended by seeing, not the fault-ridden and division-scarred assemblies on earth presented in chapters 2 and 3, but a single heavenly wife clothed in the gorgeous linens of the righteousness of the saints. How did this change come to pass? The answer to this is immediately suggested as the identity of the white-horsed rider-over which also he might well have puzzled-is likewise suddenly revealed. Thus, with amazing appropriateness, in the book of Revelation the disappearance of the church from earth becomes a mystery which cannot be unraveled until it finds its dramatic solution at the sudden glorious revelation of the triumphant horseman. This, no doubt, will be precisely the way this event will appear to the world. In so far as the church’s absence is noticed at all, it will most likely be a mystery defying explanation until the bride’s appearance with her Lord. And thus the apocalyptic plan is found to present in a unique and unexpected fashion the sublime truth that “when Christ appears, who is our life, shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in glory” (Col. 3:4). How exquisitely perfect is inspiration!

At this point it remains only to consider the details attached to the horseman of Revelation 6 which differs from those of the Rider of Revelation 19. The first of these is, of course, the bow, which appears in 6:2 in contrast to the sword of 19:15. But here the difference in detail only serves to confirm the view thus far presented and to enrich it. For the bow is the weapon of long-range warfare, whereas the sword is the weapon used in close combat with the enemy. If the rider of 6:2 represents Christ as the Initiator of all God’s judgments upon his enemies, it is clear that throughout the tribulation He fights with them, so to speak, at long range. For the judgments of the tribulation are such as fall from heaven to earth while the King is absent. But in chapter 19, the King comes personally to earth and now the conflict with the forces of evil is waged at close quarters and, with the sword, the last battle is won. And just as quite naturally the sword is thought of in connection with His Word-for it proceeds out of His mouth-so also may the bow be linked with that same Word. As the prophet Habakkuk has written, “Thy bow was made quite bare; sworn were the chastisements of thy word” (Hab. 3:9). Accordingly, the judgment-bringing Word of God is seen first under the figure of a bow dealing punishments from afar, and then under the figure of a sword meting out-now near at hand-chastisement to the nations. But it is the same Rider who uses both and is, in fact, Himself the Word of God (19:13).

Last, it has been observed as to the crown of Revelation 6:2, not only that it is singular in contrast to the “many crowns” of 19:12, but that it is the chaplet (Greek, stephanos) in contrast to the diadems (diademata) of the later passage. But surely such a difference in no way affects the identity of the Rider, whose first appearance is separated from His last by approximately seven prophetic years. Nor can it reasonably be objected that a stephanos is less appropriate upon the brow of the Son of God than a diadem, for the writer of Hebrews sees Him crowned (Greek, estephanomenon) with glory and honor (Heb. 2:9). As a matter of fact, here too a lovely appropriateness can be perceived, for the chaplet was the crown of victory both for the victorious athlete in the games and the triumphant general in war, and its use in Revelation 6:2 is clearly called for in connection with the victory which is ascribed to the one who goes fort “conquering and to conquer.” Victory is sure and hence He is crowned beforehand. But the diadem, the symbol of kingly authority, is equally called for in Revelation 19 where the stress falls up the royal identity of Him who is King of kings and Lord of lords. The single stephanos symbolizes the final all-conquering victory which the Rider is to achieve, while the many diadems represent the multiplied authorities over the kings and lords of the earth which flow from the victory. Thus the stephanos of ultimate victory is succeeded by the diadems of universal authority. But whether it is chaplet or diadem, it belongs-and belongs alone-to our Lord Jesus Christ.