Monday, December 13, 2010

Violence/Nonviolence in the Revelation of John

Violence is a motif that permeates the narrative of the book of Revelation.[1]  The central theme of the book is the conflict between the violent imperial powers of the world and the nonviolent kingdom of God.[2]   A cursory reading of the book of Revelation may appear to contradict such a statement.  The book is filled with references to God’s wrath and judgment.  An in-depth examination of the symbols and imagery used by the author of Revelation reveals the nonviolent nature of God, the divine kingdom and God’s victory over the violent imperial kingdoms of man.  While the Roman Empire is certainly the imperial power that the author of Revelation is discussing, many have argued that the critique of Rome found in the book of Revelation is equally applicable to other imperial powers throughout history.[3]  
            Though the entire text of Revelation is saturated with the theological theme described above, it is not made explicit until God’s identity is made clear in the fourth chapter.  The entirety of Revelation chapter four is concerned with establishing the setting of God’s heavenly throne room.  In Revelation 4:9 God is described as “the one seated on the throne.”  Richard Bauckham indicates that this combination of cultic and political imagery would have been seen as direct challenge and critique of Roman imperial power.[4]  This is because the propaganda of the Roman imperial system was heavily couched in religious symbolism and terminology.  Bauckham notes that the emperors and the elites of the Roman imperial state justified their authority and power by locating its origin in divine will.[5]  Essentially, the claim of Roman imperial propaganda was that the locus of divine power and will was in the Roman emperor’s throne room.  Bauckham clarifies this point in his book The Theology of the Book of Revelation:
The Roman Empire, like most political powers in the ancient world, represented and propagated its power in religious terms.  Its state religion, featuring the worship both of deified emperors and of the traditional gods of Rome, expressed political loyalty through religious worship.  In this way it absolutized its power, claiming for itself the ultimate divine sovereignty over the world.  And so in effect it contested on earth the divine sovereignty which John sees acknowledged in heaven in chapter 4.  The coming of God’s kingdom on earth must therefore be the replacement of Rome’s pretended divine sovereignty by the true divine sovereignty of the One who sits on the heavenly throne.[6]

Acknowledging this, Greg Carey has noted that the book of Revelation is the “counter-imperial” script par excellence.[7]  For the same reason the authors Wes Howard-Brook and Anthony Gwyther have also asserted that a central motif of the book of Revelation is the presentation of the “Empire” of God as a counter-myth in relation to the propaganda of the Roman imperium.[8]
            Thus, it becomes apparent that the author of Revelation is using terminology and symbols that place the kingdom of God and the Roman Empire in a state of contention.  While this is the case, it is still not apparent that the reign of God in Revelation is marked by nonviolence.  Most of the imagery and symbolism discussed thus far hark back to the divine presence of the Old Testament,[9] and the often violent intervention of YWHY.  Later, the divine judgments[10] described by John in the book of Revelation are reminiscent of the plagues that God used to chastise Egypt in the book of Exodus.[11]  They are certainly images of divine power over the power of man.[12]  Therefore, the imagery of divine authority and potency in Revelation must be augmented in some way if the idea of divine nonviolence is to remain feasible.  John accomplishes this with the images and language he uses to develop his Christology and ecclesiology.   This is true especially when this imagery is placed in juxtaposition with the symbolic imagery ascribed to Roman imperial power.
            The symbolic metaphor that John uses to characterize Rome comes as no surprise.  Rome is described as a beast and a harlot.[13]  Richard Bauckham notes that these two images of Roman imperial power are intertwined.  Bauckham states the “[t]he harlot rides the beast (17:3), because the prosperity of the city of Rome at the Empire’s expense and her corrupting influence over the Empire rest on the power achieved and maintained by the imperial armies.”[14]  Greg Carey also notes that Rome is characterized as such because Roman imperial hegemony is “beastly,” ruling by “Dragon power,” and that “Roman glory belies depravity, violence, and idolatry.”[15]  Again, Bauckham is instructive because he reminds the reader of the reason for this negative imagery:
Revelation portrays the Roman Empire as a system of violent oppression, founded on conquest, maintained by violence and oppression.  It is a system both of political tyranny and economic exploitation.[16]

In other words the Roman imperial state is built by and characterized by violence.
Recognizing this, John’s portrayal of God’s anointed one is unexpected.  The reader is first introduced to the central, messianic character of Revelation in the fifth chapter.  Here John describes the one who is “worthy” to break the seven seals and open the scroll which reveals the narrative history of God’s final judgment and the coming of the divine kingdom.  In Revelation 5:5 the angelic hosts announce that “the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered, so that he can open the scroll and its seven seals.”  When John looks, however, he does not see a powerful lion, but a slaughtered lamb instead.  This is an inversion of the imperial power dynamic within the narrative of Revelation.  Wes Howard-Brook further explicates the significance of this scene:
A common feature of Revelation is how what John hears is reshaped in terms of what he sees.  “Lion” suggests power and might; the “Lion of the tribe of Judah” suggests in particular the political Messiah stemming from David who would rid Israel of the Romans by force of arms.  However, John sees not this powerful figure but its apparent opposite: a Lamb, and one seemingly dead at that!  For those who abhor what they perceive to be Revelation’s embrace of violent vengeance, it is essential to recognize at the outset that Revelation’s proclamation is of the conquering power of a slaughtered lamb.  The Jesus John follows defeated empire not with empire’s own sword but with the sword of his mouth, that is, with his divinely inspired word and witness.[17]

John’s symbolic use of the slaughtered lamb presents the reader of Revelation with what Warren Carter has described as God’s alternative, nonviolent way of working in the world.[18]  Greg Carey also notes the importance of this imagery, stating that the image of the “Lamb constitutes Revelation’s primary image for Jesus,” and that the book of Revelation’s “emphasis lies with the Lamb’s nonviolent faithfulness to God.”[19]
            The actions of the community of believers provide a final example of the theological motif of nonviolence in the book of Revelation.  As the narrative of Revelation progresses, the tension and conflict between the God’s kingdom and the earthly imperial kingdoms increases.  The inhabitants of the world are divided into two camps between those who “worship” the Beast and those who worship the Lamb.[20]  The followers of the Lamb, or Jesus, are described as taking on the very qualities that he possesses.  Revelations 14:5 explains that “in their mouth no lie was found.”  Richard Bauckham notes that this phrase is evocative of Isaiah’s description of the Suferring Servant, a title with messianic meaning.[21]  In Revelation chapter fourteen, the Lamb’s followers are described as his army, which he leads in opposition to the armies of imperial power.  However, the members of the Lamb’s army do not function in the typical way.  They do not wage violent war against their opponents, but instead they conquer, as the Lamb did, through their martyrdom.[22]  Wes Howard-Brook points out the importance of this imagery:
Revelation calls not for heroic individualism but for faithful witness by the discipleship community as a whole.  This is what Jesus’ ministry, death, and resurrection revealed and therefore what is the mission of the communities that claim his name.[23]

            Upon examination of the symbolism relative to the historical context of Revelation, nonviolence appears to be a central motif.  While the language of the text is replete with violent imagery, the juxtaposition of key images reveals that the real power behind the kingdom of God is the force of divine nonviolence and compassionate self-sacrifice.  It is important to remember that John was likely attempting to teach the early Christian community a particular ethic of nonviolence and nonparticipation in the oppressive imperial power structure.  As Richard Buackham explains, the book of Revelation still has the ability to instruct in this respect.[24]  Pablo Richard clarifies this point, stating that Revelation is not speaking to “an end of history, but rather of the suffering and oppression within history.”[25] If modern Christians are cognizant of this, they can grasp a great deal of theological and socio-political insight.  It will encourage its readers to challenge oppression and exploitation in a compassionate manner. 










Work Cited

Bauckham, Richard The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993).

Beck, Norman A. Anti-Roman Cryptograms in the New Testament: Symbolic Messages of Liberation and Hope (New York: Westminster College Press, 1997).

Carey, Greg “The Book of Revelation as Counter-Imperial Script,” in In the Shadow of Empire: Reclaiming the Bible as a History of Faithful Resistance, ed., Richard A. Horsley (London: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).

Carter, Warren The Roman Empire and the New Testament: An Essential Guide (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2006).

González, Justo L. For the Healing of the Nations: The Book of Revelation in an Age of Cultural Conflict (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 2002).

Howard-Brook, Wes “Revelation,” in The New Testament Introducing the way of Discipleship, eds., Wes Howard-Brook and Sharon H. Ringe (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 2002).

Howard-Brook, Wes and Anthony Gwyther Unveiling Empire: Reading Revelation Then and Now (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 2008).

Pablo Richard, Apocalypse: A People’s Commentary on the Book of Revelation (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1995).






[1] Norman A. Beck, Anti-Roman Cryptograms in the New Testament: Symbolic Messages of Liberation and Hope (New York: Westminster College Press, 1997), 127.
[2] Wes Howard-Brook, “Revelation,” in The New Testament Introducing the way of Discipleship, eds., Wes Howard-Brook and Sharon H. Ringe (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 2002), 196-206.
[3] See Unveiling Empire: Reading Revelation Then and Now (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 2008) by Wes Howard-Brook and Anthony Gwyther, as well as For the Healing of the Nations: The Book of Revelation in an Age of Cultural Conflict (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 2002) by Justo L. González.   
[4] Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 34-43.
[5] Ibid., 34-35.
[6] Ibid., 34.
[7] Greg Carey, “The Book of Revelation as Counter-Imperial Script,” in In the Shadow of Empire: Reclaiming the Bible as a History of Faithful Resistance, ed., Richard A. Horsley (London: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008), 157.
[8] Wes Howard-Brook and Anthony Gwyther, Unveiling Empire: Reading Revelation Then and Now (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 2008), 223-235.
[9] Bauckham, The Theology of Revelation, 30-34. 
[10] The judgments referred to here are those associated with the seven seal-openings (6:1-17, 8:1, 3-5), the seven trumpets (8:2, 6-21; 11:14-19), the seven bowls (15:1, 5-21).
[11] Pablo Richard, Apocalypse: A People’s Commentary on the Book of Revelation (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1995), 85-86.
[12] Bauckham, The Theology of Revelation, 40-43.
[13] Beck, Anti-Roman Cryptograms, 138-149.
[14] Bauckham, The Theology of Revelation , 36.
[15] Greg Carey, “The Book of Revelation as Counter-Imperial Script,” 168.
[16] Bauckham, The Theology of Revelation, 35.
[17] Wes Howard-Brook, “Revelation,” 198.
[18] Warren Carter, The Roman Empire and the New Testament: An Essential Guide (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2006), 126.
[19] Greg Carey, “The Book of Revelation as Counter-Imperial Script,” 169.
[20] Ibid., 169-171.
[21] Bauckham, The Theology of Revelation, 78. 
[22] Ibid., 88-94.
[23] Wes Howard-Brook, “Revelation,” 202.
[24] Bauckham, The Theology of Revelation, 160.
[25] Pablo Richard, Apocalypse, 171.

1 comment:

  1. A good reading of the book, I think (at least a major part of it--though I don't think you mean to imply the book as a whole functions as an allegory for non-violence). Parts of your thesis remind me of Walter Brueggemann's 1986 lecture "Revelation and Violence." Brueggemann focuses on instances of genocide in Joshua, and argues acts of violence commanded by God are strictly focused on governmental systems and geared toward crippling the martial powers of Israel's enemies: as such, God never commands genocide, though the Israelites do carry it out. Essentially, God's commands toward violence indicate the great campaign of the Kingdom of God (which Christians have historically viewed Israel to be a type of) wages war against fraudulent systems of power which have set themselves up to rule over the earth and its inhabitants. Such power always pretends to the throne of God, a point Revelation symbolically makes throughout. I would add to your analysis above that John's symbolic imagery draws on far more than the Imperial Roman propaganda and cult of the Emperor enforced by the state, by also draws significantly on Jewish apocalyptic texts surrounding the "great and terrible day of the Lord." Leviathan, the Dragon, Egypt, Babylon all point to a single referent, a position Rome occupies for John and his original audience. However, the use of symbolic language drawn from the old testament as well as cultural references drawn from Imperial Rome demonstrate the power in question exceeds beyond its present manifestation, be it Nero or King George or Obama or Mitt Romney. I think you do account for this, but the application might be more effective if this symbolic element is drawn out a bit more distinctly.

    However, I do have a question regarding your characterization of church as non-violent. I agree that way in which the Kingdom of Heaven functions is radically different than the ways the kingdoms of earth--Babylon et al--function. But does characterizing the Kingdom of God as non-violent give primacy to violence as the essential method of kingdom making? or is non-violence a kind of determinate negation that sublates and overpowers both violence and peace (i.e., the peaceful garden broken by the violence fall, reconciled in the non-violent City of God?) If that's the case, then could there be a way defining non-violence in a way to provides it with definite content, rather than as the absence of violence? A way that helps us understand how exactly a non-violent kingdom "advances with violence, and violent men take hold of it"?

    ReplyDelete