The book of Revelation is a liturgy. John begins “in the Spirit” on the “Lord’s day” (1:10).  Jesus appears, and Jesus tells him to record messages to seven churches, words of encouragement and rebuke, like the call to worship and confession at the beginning of a Christian liturgy.

In chapter 4, John ascends from Patmos to join elders and cherubim in the liturgy of the heavenly temple. John sees a sealed book, which has to be opened for the service to continue. The Lamb appears and breaks the seals. Trumpets sound, proclaiming the contents of the scroll. Then chalices of wine-wrath are poured out, and the saints are invited to share in the marriage supper of the Lamb. At the end, the saints are enthroned and sent out on a mission.

If you visited a synagogue, or a worship service in a first-century church, this is what you would see: People assemble; a book is opened, its contents read and trumpeted out; a feast, and a dismissal.

Revelation is also a call to martyrdom. When the Lamb breaks the fifth seal, John sees saints “underneath the altar,” pleading for vindication (6:9-11). A voice assures them that the Lord will respond, but not until “the number of their fellow servants and their brethren who are to be killed . . . should be completed also” (v. 11). Before God vindicates the martyrs, more martyrs must be made.

The book of Revelation is a liturgy. The book of Revelation is an exhortation to martyrdom. These aren’t side-by-side in Revelation but fully integrated. To be a participant in the liturgy is to be a witness. Liturgy prepares for martyrdom, and martyrdom is an act of worship. Liturgy is a form of living sacrifice; martyrdom fulfills the liturgy in a sacrifice to death.

These threads come together in Revelation 14. The chapter begins with a vision of the 144,000 standing on Mount Zion with the Lamb in their midst. The 144,000 were sealed earlier in the book (7:1-8). They are the answer to the prayer of the martyrs. They are the rest of the martyrs whose blood will fill the cup of martyr blood to the brim.

The high priests of Israel wore a golden crown on their foreheads that was inscribed with the phrase “holy to Yahweh.” Sealed with the name of God on the forehead, the 144,000 comprise a band of martyr priests, dressed in white robes, ready for their final sacrifice. For the 144,000, as for Jesus, priest and sacrifice are one. Jesus the high priest offers Himself as the sacrifice for sins. Following Him, the 144,000 martyr-priests offer themselves as living and dying sacrifices. That is their ultimate liturgy, their reasonable service.

Verse 4 describes the 144,000 as the “firstfruits to God and to the Lamb,” purchased from among men by the blood of the Lamb. When we come to the end of the chapter and see a harvest scene, we should remember the opening vision of firstfruits. The harvest is often interpreted as a judgment on the wicked, but the grapes aren’t suffering the wrath of God. They are thrown into the wine press to become the wine that the Lord pours out as wrath. They become agents of Yahweh’s wrath, not subjects of it.

The harvest is the harvest of the 144,000, of the firstfruits, the saints who witness faithfully to death. If you saw the harvest from earth, you would see Christians tried, tortured, killed. Revelation shows us the same event from heaven, and it looks like self-sacrifice and a harvest of saints.

When the Son of Man puts in his sickle, he reaps the harvest of the land. Though grain is not mentioned, the implication is that the first harvest is a harvest of grain. When another angel with a sharp sickle gathers the second phase of the harvest, John is explicit about what’s being harvested: The angel is harvesting grapes.

The 144,000 priest-martyrs, in short, are grain and grapes, the produce of Day 3 of the creation week, grass bearing seed and vines bearing fruit. They are a Eucharistic company. They received the body and blood of Christ at the table, and so have been conformed to Christ, their bodies broken and their blood poured out.

We are what we eat. We eat and drink Christ, and so we become Christ to the world. We eat bread and drink wine, and so we become the bread of life and the wine of joy. We eat and drink the Eucharist, and become Eucharist. We eat broken bread, and become broken bodies; we drink wine poured out, so that we can pour ourselves out as a drink offering. We eat and drink to proclaim the death of Christ, so as to be conformed to His death as Eucharistic witnesses, ripe for harvest. We are martyr-priests, because we are what we eat.

Peter J. Leithart is President of the Theopolis Institute.