The Divine Warrior Reimagined

When Scripture Interprets Scripture

There's an old adage in biblical studies: scripture interprets scripture. And while I appreciate the sentiment, I find that too often it's used to iron out the richness, the tension, even the differing perspectives embedded within our sacred texts. It's used to create uniformity rather than to celebrate the layered voices that make scripture so compelling.

But there is another way to approach this idea—a way that is deeply meaningful for Christians. It's the way the New Testament writers look back on the Hebrew scriptures and reinterpret them in light of Jesus. Not to erase what came before, but to see it anew. Through the lens of the non-violent Christ, the stories shift. The meanings deepen. The trajectory of redemption becomes clearer.

Revelation Reimagines Isaiah

One of the clearest examples of this comes in the Book of Revelation, particularly chapter 19. This is the climactic moment. The kings of the world marshal their armies for the infamous battle of Armageddon. It’s the ultimate showdown: good versus evil, divine versus demonic. And then, just as the battle is about to erupt, a figure appears.

The rider on a white horse. Named "the Word of God" — a title reserved only for Jesus in the scriptures.

He's bloody, victorious, and wields a sword. Sounds intense, right? Rambo Jesus, perhaps? The action-hero Messiah we’ve been waiting for. But not so fast.

What we often miss is that the rider’s robe is already dipped in blood before the battle begins. This isn’t the blood of his enemies. It’s his own blood. This is the cross. This is the Jesus who would rather die than kill.

And that sword? It’s not in his hand. It’s coming from his mouth. It’s not a weapon of war. It’s his testimony, his words, his non-violent witness that disarms even the most real, tangible threats.

The Roots in Isaiah

But here’s where it gets even more interesting. Because this image in Revelation 19 isn’t created from thin air. It has roots deep in Isaiah 63.

There, we meet the "Divine Warrior" returning from battle. His robes are crimson, splattered from trampling the winepress of God’s wrath. It is, quite literally, a picture of vengeance. A lone figure who conquers through violent judgment.

Yikes.

This is the image that John picks up in Revelation. But he doesn’t repeat it wholesale. Instead, he reframes it. In the light of Jesus, this warrior becomes something altogether different. The blood is not from others, but from himself. The sword is not violence, but word. The victory is not revenge, but righteousness.

Seeing God Through Jesus

John is telling us something profound: that what we thought was God’s vengeance was always God's self-giving love. That what we imagined as divine retribution was always divine sacrifice.

So when Jesus left out the "day of vengeance" in his reading from Isaiah in Luke 4, he wasn’t dodging the hard stuff. He was reinterpreting the story. Showing us what God's justice actually looks like.

This is why Jesus says things like, "a seed must fall to the ground and die to produce fruit," or "Father, forgive them, for they don't know what they are doing." He is painting a picture of a God who doesn't meet violence with violence, but overcomes evil with good.

Everything Changes in the Light of Jesus

This is what it means to let scripture interpret scripture. To read Isaiah through Jesus. To see Armageddon not as God’s final act of vengeance, but as the ultimate revelation of divine love.

Because once you've seen God through Jesus, everything else starts to look different too.

Even the Divine Warrior.

Even Revelation.

Even us.