Stop reading Revelations as an End Times prophecy; it must be read in the context of Roman Empire
Image: Wikimedia Commons.
When we open the book of Revelation, we are stepping into one of the most misunderstood texts in the Christian Scriptures. Too often, it has been used as a codebook for predicting the future, a play-by-play of wars and disasters yet to come.
Just last week, thousands of people believed that the Rapture was going to take place. They sold possessions, quit jobs, and made life decisions based on an expectation that Jesus would sweep them away.
And yet here we are.
And yet the world continues.
And yet the Church continues.
And yet faith continues.
These modern misreadings of Revelation miss the point, because they fail to read the book in the world of its first hearers, the Roman Empire at the end of the first century.
Revelation as resistance literature
Revelation begins with these words, “The revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave him to show his servants what must soon take place” (Rev. 1:1, NRSVue).
Notice that it is written to “his servants,” real communities in Asia Minor who were living under the heavy hand of Rome.
They were small.
They were struggling.
They were vulnerable.
They were pressured to honor Caesar as lord, to participate in the imperial cult, to accommodate themselves to empire.
John of Patmos knew that such pressures were not just theological. They were existential.
To refuse was to risk livelihood.
To refuse was to risk status.
To refuse was to risk life itself.
When John writes of “Babylon the great” (Rev. 17:5, NRSVue), he is not pointing to some far-off city yet to exist. He is using prophetic language to veil his critique of Rome, whose wealth was built on conquest, on enslavement, on exploitation of peoples across the empire.
To name Rome outright would have been dangerous, so he drew upon the old name of Babylon, the empire that destroyed Jerusalem and carried the people of Judah into exile.
In this way, John situated Rome within a longer biblical story.
Every empire that oppresses God’s people becomes Babylon.
Every empire that consumes the poor becomes Babylon.
Every empire that worships violence becomes Babylon.
A pastoral word for suffering communities
Revelation is not meant to frighten believers with images of doom. It is meant to comfort them with the assurance that Christ reigns over history.
In the throne room vision, John writes, “Then I saw between the throne and the four living creatures and among the elders a Lamb standing as if it had been slaughtered” (Rev. 5:6, NRSVue).
Here is the heart of the Gospel. The Lamb who was slain is the one who rules.
Power is not found in Rome’s legions.
Power is not found in Caesar’s throne.
Power is found in the crucified and risen Christ.
For Christians facing persecution, this was a word of life.
It told them that their suffering was not meaningless.
It told them that their faithfulness was not wasted.
It told them that Rome was not eternal.
God’s justice is at work even when the empire seems unshakable.
God’s reign is breaking in even when the world seems hopeless.
Revelation is less about predicting calamities and more about proclaiming hope.
Revelation for the Church today
As Presbyterians, we confess that “God alone is Lord of the conscience.”
That means no empire has ultimate authority.
That means no state has ultimate authority.
That means no ruler has ultimate authority.
Reading Revelation through its first-century context helps us resist the temptation to treat it as a crystal ball for our own times. Instead, it becomes a mirror.
Every age has its Rome.
Every age has its Babylon.
Every age has its systems of domination that demand loyalty, wealth, and silence in the face of injustice.
In our day, Revelation calls us to see clearly.
It calls us to ask where we have accommodated empire.
It calls us to ask where we have resisted empire.
It calls us to ask who benefits from our silence and who suffers from our silence.
Revelation insists that these powers do not endure.
“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more” (Rev. 21:1, NRSVue).
That promise is not escapism.
That promise is resistance.
That promise is a declaration that God’s future is one of renewal, justice, and peace.
A word of hope
So as a PCUSA elder, I remind myself and my community.
Revelation is not a book of terror.
Revelation is a book of faithfulness.
Revelation is not a book of fear.
Revelation is a book of hope.
Revelation is not a puzzle to decode.
Revelation is a call to courage.
It proclaims that while empires rise and fall, the Lamb reigns forever. And that is good news for every generation.
“See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them. They will be his peoples. God himself will be with them” (Rev. 21:3, NRSVue).
That is the vision John left us.
Not fear, but hope.
Not despair, but assurance.
Not Rome, but Christ.
