Like a high-powered attorney the dragon does not miss a point. From the juror’s seat, our guilt is established beyond a reasonable doubt. The Accuser’s case is so air-tight that our conviction will be certain. We shudder in hopelessness. We stand guilty before a holy God with no way to pay for our sins. We cannot win the case against us, but against all expectations the voice shouts, “They have overcome him.” The accused brethren conquer the dragon!

No one likes a tattletale, chime the playground kids. Mob bosses tailor concrete boots for rats. “Snitches get stitches,” as the saying goes. When it comes to our sinful secrets, there is no doubt that we loathe them being divulged, and those that spill them win the Oscar of betrayal, an unforgiveable award. However, a tension chides our hatred, for rats often speak the truth. Whistleblowers are concerned for justice and truth against corrupt power structures. Does our desire for privacy outweigh the matters of righteousness? Well, since the beginning of time, the Accuser has been blowing the whistle on our sin before God, and this brief episode before us in Revelation 12:7-12 dramatically displays how Christ permanently silenced our demonic tattletale.

This battle scene trails one of the most sweeping images of all of redemptive history in 12:1-6. Here, the woman who pictured the church from Eve to Mary and beyond is assaulted by the seven-headed dragon. A pregnant lady versus a fanged Norwegian Ridgeback posing as a midwife—the contest hardly seems fair. But the man-child is victoriously swept to heaven garbed in the imagery of Psalm 2. This babe will shatter the nations with his iron scepter. The seed of the woman has crushed the head of that ancient serpent.

This next scene, however, does not follow chronologically after the opening panel; rather, John revisits the same events from another perspective. He employs one of his favorite techniques in Revelation, recapitulation, which is to retell the same episode from a different angle. This recapitulation is marked by the repetition of the phrase ‘in the heaven’ in v 7 from v 1 and v 3. So, in verses 7-12, John retells the birth and snatching up of the child from a heavenly perspective. Michael’s combat with the dragon is the heavenly analogue to the birth and ascension of the Christ child.

Who, though, is Michael? Michael refers to the angelic figure from Daniel 10 and 12 where Michael is revealed as Israel’s (the church’s) heavenly representative and protector against the forces of evil. In Daniel, Michael is further aligned with the Son of Man figure in Daniel 7. Michael is the proper name of the messianic Angel of the Lord. Therefore, Michael here depicts Christ either as an angel representing Christ’s person and work or Christ disclosing himself as the Angel of the Lord. The activity of Michael is to be identified with the work of Christ. It is fitting, then, for this figure to bear the name Michael, which means “Who is like God?” This name is a question of incomparability. No one equals God in power and glory. In Michael the divine glory of Jesus shines forth.

Where as the woman and child faced off with the dragon on earth, so Michael goes toe to toe with the dragon upon the heavenly battlefield. The lens widens to showcase a terribly awesome battle scene. Michael and his hosts clang sword to shield on one side. The dragon and his foul minions hiss on the other. Yet, as soon as the armies are arrayed the brawl is over. The dragon goes down with the first punch—with no place in heaven he was cast down to earth. And in the dragon’s obituary John publishes his driver’s license, social security card, and birth certificate. We are given the full identification of this dragon.

First, the dragon is the same Ancient Serpent of Genesis 3—the cunning tempter of old who enticed Adam and Eve into sin. He is humanity’s chief adversary longing for their condemnation.

Read More