The (Original) Tale of Two Cities, Part 1: The Demise of Rome (17:1—19:10)
REVELATION 17:1—19:10
The (Original) Tale of Two Cities, Part 1:
The Demise of Rome
In turning to the imagery of Rome as the woman on the beast, one comes to the beginning of the end of John’s Revelation. Because this particular imagery is familiar to many people, the reader needs to be made aware at the outset of how closely related it is to the preceding set of visions (chs. 15–16). This relationship can be seen by two features. First, the present scene opens with one of the two angels from the immediately preceding scene still involved—in two ways: he transports John by the Spirit to a place in the desert, from which John will see the unfolding vision; he will also give John the interpretation of what he has seen. Second, these connections to what has preceded are also discernible in the content of these chapters, which picks up and elaborates on the seventh bowl—the fall of Babylon the Great in 16:19.
The vision in chapters 15–16 thus served as a kind of prelude to what one encounters next. It began in heaven with the saints singing the “song of Moses and of the Lamb,” extolling God’s wondrous works and ways and his righteous judgments. It unfolded as the last seven plagues, first against those who have “worshiped the beast” and then against Babylon itself—although the judgments were also against those who have sided with her. Now using the striking imagery of a high-placed prostitute, John proceeds to give the reasons for Rome’s demise and then to describe the results (or aftermath) of her fall.
Thus in 17:1—19:10, the city itself—as part of the Empire, yet in some ways distinct from it—comes under God’s judgments, both temporal and eternal. What begins here, therefore, is a look at the future that is much more apocalyptic and eschatological than what has preceded, and which tells the next part of the story in the context of God’s final judgments and salvation. This, then, is the original “Tale of Two Cities”—as the tale of two women, a prostitute (17:1–18) and a righteous bride (21:9—22:5).
That John intends the reader to make these connections is made certain by the deliberate links he makes between the two narratives at their beginning and end. At the beginning of each (17:1 and 3, and 21:9–10) he pictures one of the seven angels with the last seven plagues as transporting him by the Spirit (17:3; 21:10). He is first taken to a desert place to see the great harlot (Rome) come under judgment, and then to a high mountain to see the bride of the Lamb (the New Jerusalem) come down from heaven—and thus to replace the former.
Each narrative then concludes in much the same way. In 19:9–10 the angel tells John, “Write: ‘Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb,’” adding that “these are the true words of God.” John responds to this by falling at the angel’s feet to worship, to which the angel in turn responds, “Don’t do that! [For] I am a fellow servant”; rather he is to “Worship God!,” to which a final reason is attached: “These are the true words of God.” Similarly in 22:6 and 8–9, the angel again tells John, “These words are trustworthy and true,” adding further that “the Lord, the God who inspires the prophets, sent his angel to show his servants the things that must soon take place.” And again, John responds by falling at his feet to worship, to which this angel responds, “Don’t do that! I am a fellow servant,” which again is followed by “Worship God!” The only significant difference between these two concluding moments is with the angel’s final words. In the first instance he concludes with the enigmatic explanation, “for the testimony of Jesus is the Spirit of prophecy,” whereas the second instance concludes, “because the time is near.”
Between these two scenes lies the narrative of the Last Battle; first as the battle called Armageddon (19:11–21), and second—following “the thousand year interlude” designed to reassure the martyrs (20:1–6)—as the final doom of the “unholy trinity” of Satan and the two beasts (20:7–15). All of this at the same time takes one back to chapters 15 and 16, to note how they fit into the overall scheme. As noted there, the vision of the seven last plagues has a variety of ties with what had preceded; but it also has clear ties with what follows, as something of a prelude. Thus in sequence John has narrated:
a) the vision of the saints in heaven singing the song of Moses and of the Lamb (15:3);
b) the last seven plagues (ch. 16), the first four of which echo the first four trumpets, but with intensified natural disasters against the followers of the beast, while the sixth (and the second half of the interlude) looks forward to the Last Battle;
c) and the great earthquake and the destruction of Babylon (16:17–21).
These are the same three matters that are now played in reverse in 17:1–22:5:
c) the destruction of Babylon, as the forsaken harlot, whose doom has come (17:1–19:10);
b) the Last Battle itself (19:11–20:15);
a) and the New Jerusalem, now as a bride adorned for marriage with the Lamb (21:1–22:5).
In this view of things, the present narrative functions as a prophetic introduction to the fall of Babylon. It is also simultaneously one of the clearest and most complex of the visions in the book. Its clarity is to be found in some of the identifications, which John again makes sure his readers cannot possibly miss. Its complexity is to be found in the fluid nature of other moments of identification in the book, which are the result of four factors: (1) the complexity of Rome itself, which is variously pictured as the Empire (primarily as “the beast”), as the city from which the Empire originated (the “prostitute”), and as its succession of emperors (the “heads” of the beast); (2) John’s use of the Nero redivivus legend as part of his picture of the succession of emperors; (3) his use of this same legend to picture (at least in part) the overthrow of the Empire in terms of the kings of the East; and (4) his use of the vision of Daniel 7 as part of the imagery itself (a beast with ten horns). Much of this must be kept in mind in order for the reader to track with John through this striking, but sometimes bewildering, attempt to identify Rome as the woman dressed in “scarlet [and purple]” sitting on the “scarlet beast,” the Empire.
ROME AS A SEDUCTIVE HARLOT (17:1–18)
The Introduction as Invitation (17:1–2)
1One of the seven angels who had the seven bowls came and said to me, “Come, I will show you the punishment of the great prostitute, who sits by many waters. 2With her the kings of the earth committed adultery and the inhabitants of the earth were intoxicated with the wine of her adulteries.”
These words serve as John’s introduction to the scene that follows. Thus one of the seven angels (introduced in 15:1), who had the seven bowls, approached John and invited him to come with the angel, so that he might see the next scene. The angel promises to show John the punishment of the great prostitute, who is further identified as geographically specific as one can expect in such a work: she is the one who sits by many waters. For those of us who are used to picturing such geographical moments in our heads, this is a striking understanding of where Rome was situated, and one that could scarcely have been missed by his readers. Even though Rome itself was inland several miles up the Tiber River, her ultimate power lay not only with her armies but also with her control over the entire Mediterranean Sea.
What follows immediately, however, is not the (coming) “punishment” of Rome, but a further description of the city in terms of its her relationship to much of the rest of the known world, at least that which was under Roman control. But John begins not with Rome as predator and conqueror, but as a seductive harlot with whom the kings of the earth committed adultery, thereby pointing to the complicity with Rome of the rulers of the conquered lands. Because of Rome’s generally benign policies as a conqueror, these “kings” had come to benefit far more than otherwise. Thus even though beneath the surface there existed a kind of love/hate relationship with Rome, it was more “love” on the part of the “kings” of these various lands than it was “hate.” Indeed, in the history of Western civilization, Rome probably benefited its conquered peoples at least as much as, if not far more than, otherwise. Nonetheless, from the divine perspective, especially given the early Christians’ refusal to concede that any other than their risen Christ (including the emperor) was “Lord,” the Empire in John’s eyes thus played the role of an alluring harlot. And as history bears out, jilted paramours can display their own forms of terror.
But the world’s love affair with Rome included not only “the kings of the earth,” but many (most?) of the rest of the inhabitants of the earth who likewise were intoxicated with the wine of her adulteries. This is striking imagery indeed, yet it can be easily overlooked in a quick reading of the text. But John is seldom given to imagery for its own sake, so he most likely intends something to the effect that most of the rest of the people in the Empire were well enough served by it so as scarcely to raise a voice in protest. And those who did protest, of course, were precisely those who were not served by her, including a very large number of slaves—especially those consigned in considerable numbers to various forms of “forced labor.”1 But John is not attempting to be precise at this level; his concern is with the way the larger known world had rather fully capitulated to the power of the Empire, a power that in one horrific moment in history had chosen to execute his Lord by way of one of the most cruel forms of torture ever invented. It is, after all, hardly an accident that no person known to be a Roman citizen was ever so executed. Thus, “intoxicated with the wine of her adulteries” is a fitting image for the Empire by one who was an ardent follower of the crucified, now risen Lamb of God.
With these opening words, therefore, John is invited by one of the seven angels to see what awaits the prostitute. But all of that must wait—for a considerable time, it turns out—as John first goes on to describe the prostitute herself at some length (vv. 3–6) and then to interpret in considerable detail her role in the history of John’s time (vv. 7–18), which ultimately calls for God’s judgment of her.
The Description of the Harlot (17:3–6)
3Then the angel carried me away in the Spirit into a wilderness. There I saw a woman sitting on a scarlet beast that was covered with blasphemous names and had seven heads and ten horns. 4The woman was dressed in purple and scarlet, and was glittering with gold, precious stones and pearls. She held a golden cup in her hand, filled with abominable things and the filth of her adulteries. 5This name written on her forehead was a mystery:2
BABYLON THE GREAT
THE MOTHER OF PROSTITUTES
AND OF THE ABOMINATIONS OF THE EARTH.
6I saw that the woman was drunk with the blood of God’s people, the blood of those who bore testimony to Jesus. When I saw her, I was greatly astonished.
The angel’s invitation for John to come and see the punishment God has in store for the beast begins with this powerful imagery of Rome itself as an especially high-placed prostitute, a woman whose harlotry could hardly be likened to that of “street ladies” (hooker, tart, trollop). Rather here is the kind of prostitute whose “business” is to serve “the best and the finest,” and at a very high price—an especially fitting image for an Empire into whose services much of the Western world had sold itself, even though often with reservations. In order for John to see her, the angel carried him away in the Spirit into a wilderness. One should not pass too quickly over two matters in this clause. First, John reminds his readers of the continuing present activity of the Spirit in the narrative; and second, in this striking moment Rome is pictured as visible only in “a wilderness,” the place of desolation—and for historic Israel, of pilgrimage and trial.
What John sees in the wilderness is a woman sitting on a scarlet beast, the Empire itself thus being pictured as a beast, intentionally taking the reader back to the imagery of chapter 13. As before, but now in a different order of presentation, the beast was covered with blasphemous names, thus presenting its character, before describing the political reality that it had seven heads (again noting its geography). On the seven heads, and now borrowing directly from Daniel 7:24, were ten horns. These are interpreted below (v. 12) as “ten kings who have not yet received a kingdom,” and who eventually will join in the uprising to overthrow Rome (v. 16). Next up John describes her character, as an empire clothed in ultimate luxury. Thus she was dressed in purple for royalty and scarlet for her character as a harlot, and was glittering with the finest of jewels: gold, precious stones and pearls. As befitting royalty, she held a golden cup in her hand; but John will not let it rest there, since even though the Empire may have considered itself as royalty, its/her cup was filled with abominable things and the filth of her adulteries. Even though from an outside view this may seem like “sour grapes,” John is at this point speaking for the God of Israel, the Father of the one true Lord, Jesus Christ. By now the luxurious and profligate lifestyle of most of Rome’s powerful people had become infamous, and now they were, as those of Babylon before her had likewise been, destined for judgment.
Therefore, in order to press the point home for his readers in the seven churches, and to make sure that no one could mistake the identity of the harlot, John pictures this name written on her forehead. Thus, in the place where others had to bear “the mark of the beast” (13:16), Rome itself is now marked by God as the mother of prostitutes and of the abominations of the earth. For the sake of John’s readers these words are preceded by the title first introduced in 14:8, Babylon the Great. And the title itself is preceded by the descriptor mystery. This introductory word, of course, is intended to alert John’s readers not that there is mystery in what follows, but that the names that follow are to be understood as “cryptic.” After all, John is a prisoner of the Empire, and is writing this book both about it and “under its eyes,” as it were.
But the woman is more than just a tart, she is also a sot, who had made herself drunk, not with too much wine, but with the blood of God’s people. Thus, in anticipation of what is to come for “the saints,” Rome is here pictured as sotted from drinking the blood of those who bore testimony to Jesus. Here again, in light of the (so far) singular martyrdom of Antipas of Pergamum, John speaks prophetically of the blood bath that Rome was about to unleash on the followers of Him whom they had executed as a brigand, a rebel whose teaching and followers had from their perspective threatened the Roman “pax” in Judea. In order for John’s readers to have a sense of the awe such a sight provoked in him, he concludes by noting his own great wonder at the sight: When I saw her, I was greatly astonished.3
All of this, of course, is introduction, setting the scene for the interpretation that is to come, which, as John will say a bit further on, “calls for a mind of wisdom” (v. 9).
The Interpretation of the Vision (17:7–18)
What comes next in John’s narrative is a series of interpretations, beginning with the beast itself and concluding with a prophetic word about her future. As clear as the following interpretation is in most of its parts, there are just enough moments of doubt to cause one to be less than dogmatic. This is especially so regarding the seven kings of verse 10, an interpretation on John’s part that has generally played havoc with our later attempts to fit the book into what we know about the Roman emperors in the first Christian century. So one identifies some of these figures with a measure of hesitation, especially since we cannot be sure from our perspective of history whether John begins his count with Augustus or Julius Caesar (most likely the former) and whether he includes the three “emperors” of quick succession who followed Nero in 69 CE. Furthermore, and most troubling of all for many later interpreters like ourselves, is John’s prediction of the coming destruction of the Empire as he knew it within what appears to be a short time in his future. Or to put our dilemma another way, it is altogether unlikely that John’s first readers could have possibly read it the way we do from hind-sight. At issue, in any case, is what they were intended to understand in foresight.
The Interpretation of the Beast (17:7–8)
7Then the angel said to me: “Why are you astonished? I will
explain to you the mystery of the woman and of the beast she rides,
which has the seven heads and ten horns. 8The beast, which you
saw, once was, now is not, and yet will come up out of the Abyss
and go to its destruction. The inhabitants of the earth whose
names have not been written in the book of life from the creation
of the world will be astonished when they see the beast, because it
once was, now is not, and yet will come.
John begins his interpretation of the vision not with an explanation of the woman, who was the dominant figure in the preceding description, but with the beast on which she rides, which has the seven heads and ten horns. Although the reader is hardly left guessing as to her identity, John waits until the very end to do reveal it (v. 18). The interpretation thus takes a chiastic pattern with regard to the introduction. The woman is first introduced and then the beast; but the beast is first to be identified, and then the woman. The beast itself, which is twice described (vv. 8 and 11), is perhaps the most puzzling figure in the book. But overall, and in some way or another it represents the Empire itself, as it does in chapter 13. Almost everything else that is said here supports such an identification; nonetheless the puzzling moment comes in verse 11, where the beast is further identified as “an eighth king,” thus indicating again a somewhat fluid use of images.
Part of our difficulty at this point lies with the repeated description of the beast as a “creature” that once was, now is not, and yet will come up out of the Abyss and go to its destruction. This is obviously divine judgment on something/someone, but it is not immediately clear what John intends. Most likely he is here simply, but boldly, representing the Empire as a parody, expressing in reverse one of his favorite descriptions of God as “the One who is, who was and who is to come” (1:4, 8; cf. 11:17). That is, John is not here trying to say something about the beast’s role in history; rather, it appears in the current scene simply as John’s way of connecting the present imagery of Rome as a harlot with his earlier imagery of Rome as a beast. Rome’s relationship with Satan is further certified by John’s noting this “beast” will himself “come up out of the Abyss” (on which see 9:3–11). The fact that the unbelieving inhabitants of the earth … will be astonished when they see the beast would seem to make this connection certain.
But as well as making a connection with the vision in chapter 13, John further identifies “the inhabitants of the earth” as those whose names have not been written in the book of life. With this imagery, which appeared first in 3:5 and again in 13:8, John is now anticipating the unfolding of the phenomenon that will be a noteworthy part of the final judgment in 20:12, 15 and 21:27. Here, of course, “book of life” refers to those who are destined for eternal life with “him who sits on the throne and with the Lamb.” Finally, and with a remarkable interchange of imagery from 13:8, where the Lamb was noted as “slain from the creation of the world,” God’s secured people, who now stand in stark contrast to the present “inhabitants of the earth,” have had their “names written in the book of life” from the creation of the world. This language, of course, has little to do with the later Christian doctrine of election, and everything to do with that of “the security of the believer.” That is, John is here strengthening the resolve of his readers/hearers by reminding them of the eternal nature of their calling, from eternity to eternity, as it were.
Further Interpretation of the Beast (17:9–11)
9“This calls for a mind with wisdom. The seven heads are seven hills on which the woman sits. 10They are also seven kings. Five have fallen, one is, the other has not yet come; but when he does come, he must remain for only a little while. 11The beast who once was, and now is not, is an eighth king. He belongs to the seven and is going to his destruction.
John now speaks directly to his readers, telling them that the preceding imagery calls for a mind with wisdom, which at the same time reminds us later readers how much there is that is not available to us. “Wisdom” in this case does not point to wisdom in general, but calls for John’s original readers to recognize what he intended by the preceding imagery; even so, only a person with no knowledge of the ancient world could miss the imagery. Thus John’s “call” here is more a way of introducing what follows than it is a heads-up, although it very likely functions in both ways. Most of all it calls for “a mind with wisdom” because John himself is about to launch one of the more difficult moments in his book, where he offers two identifications of the seven heads and still another identification of the beast.
The first thing up is the one that anyone who has taken a course in ancient history will immediately recognize as the best known characteristic of Rome; thus the seven heads are the seven hills on which the woman sits. But what comes next is especially puzzling (intriguing?), and is the primary factor in an earlier dating of the book by many scholars, namely, that “the seven heads” are also seven kings. At issue is whether one counts the actual number of emperors, including the infamous Gaius Caligula (37–41 CE), and also whether the quick succession of four “emperors” in 68–69 CE is to be counted as one. Were John’s numbers followed precisely, in terms of what is actually known of Roman history, then the five who have fallen would take one through the reign of Nero (d. CE 68), and Galba (d. 69) would be the one who currently is. But since that seems altogether unlikely historically, one must assume either that John’s numbers are not intended to be quite as precise as those who look back on this history would like to make them, or that he has “telescoped” some reigns so as to keep his numbering intact (i.e., his repeated use of the number seven). Most likely it is the latter, since at this point precision as we tend to understand it is not quite as important to John as is fitting the preceding century into his own literary/numerical scheme.
In any case, John’s concern is with the other who has not yet come, whoever that might be, about whom he adds, but when he does come, he must remain for only a little while. All of this has posed enormous difficulties for later interpreters. On the one hand, there is a tendency toward a kind of literalism that requires a precision John may not have intended at all; and on this matter this interpreter remains ambivalent. On the other hand, one must take with full seriousness that for John “the other has not yet come; but when he does come, he must remain for only a little while.” The very ambiguity of all attempts to interpret this literally in terms of the history that both preceded John and was then in the making for him leaves one with more uncertainty than most scholars care to deal with.
Equally difficult, both from the perspective of our distance in history and the ambiguity nested in the text itself, is pinning down with any certainty what John intended by his final addition to this scene: The beast who once was, and now is not, is an eighth king. This especially complex image is perhaps best understood as a sometime Hebrew use of numbers, where in this case the seventh becomes the eighth as a way of intensifying the reality to which it is pointing. In any case, one may be sure that this first moment of interpretation has to do with Rome itself. Probably the most likely resolution of this mystery is that John is here reflecting the common Nero redivivus legend, which claimed that the hated, heinous Nero had not really died but had gone to the East, from whence he would return with the kings of the East and make war on Rome itself.4 If so—and it seems to make the most sense of the imagery—then John in this case is using a popular legend to suggest that some later emperors, in terms of their relationship to the Lamb and his followers, would embody the monstrous character of Nero himself as they would “wage war” against the followers of the Lamb.
The Interpretation of the Ten Horns (17:12–14)
12“The ten horns you saw are ten kings who have not yet received a kingdom, but who for one hour will receive authority as kings along with the beast. 13They have one purpose and will give their power and authority to the beast. 14They will make war against the Lamb, but the Lamb will triumph over them because he is Lord of lords and King of kings—and with him will be his called, chosen and faithful followers.”
What follows, as the next moment of interpretation of what John saw, is an explanation of the ten horns, an interpretation that has caused a good deal of trouble for those who read this text through the lens of a view of divine inspiration that requires more exactitude than is historically a part of the prophetic tradition. That is, the prophets were certain about the divine reality of God’s coming judgments on Israel’s enemies—or on Israel itself—and sometimes also about the nature of it. But precision with regard to details, though it sometimes happened, is simply not the point of their indictments; their universal concern was with the certainty of it. Similarly, one cannot in the present instance be sure whether John envisioned a precise number of monarchs who would come from the east and overpower Rome, or whether, as often in this book, ten is being used as the number representing fullness or completeness. If the latter, as seems most likely, then John’s intent is that the whole of the petty monarchs in the east will band together as one in an attempt to throw off the Roman yoke. John’s present point, however, is not precision about their number, but about their unity in purpose. Furthermore, the rest of the passage is most likely not intended by John to picture peoples from the lands of the Euphrates, but the petty kings of what was known as Asia Minor, mostly modern-day Turkey. As it turned out, this was an especially insightful prophetic moment by John, since the provincials in this part of the Roman world, where John resided and where Polycarp of Smyrna was later executed, were especially keen on carrying out the emperor’s wishes on this matter. In any case John recognizes clearly that even though these ten kings … have not yet received a kingdom, they will nonetheless soon receive authority as kings.
Furthermore, he sees that they will join forces and thus “receive authority” along with the beast. Again, John’s present concern is not with historical precision, but historical reality, namely that the ten kings together have one purpose: to give their power and authority to the beast, thus to give him their allegiance. Almost certainly this is John’s way of picturing the petty kings of Asia Minor and elsewhere as soon to join forces in an attempt to stamp out any reminder of those who proclaim as “Lord” not Caesar, but a lowly Jewish itinerant who had been crucified by Caesar as yet one more messianic pretender, as “King of the Jews.” But the risen Jesus simply will not go away, so prophetically John sees what will come next. These combined forces will make war against the Lamb, which in this case, since the Lamb stands in heaven before the throne (5:6), can only mean “war against his followers.” But now, with clear echoes of the promised word in 12:11, John’s readers are promised that the Lamb will triumph over them (the ten kings and the beast), and will do so because he alone—not Caesar—is Lord over all lords and King above all kings. Here emerges once again the very high Christology of this book, where Old Testament language used specifically to identify the God of Israel5 is now transferred to Christ. Thus despite the soon-to-be-released holocaust against the Lamb’s people, John foresees that at the Lamb’s coming triumph, with him will be his called, chosen and faithful followers.
Finally, the reader should not lightly pass over John’s order of “called, chosen and faithful”; their being “called” is evidence of their having been “chosen.” At the same time he will not let the former two realities be the only ones; the Lamb’s “followers” are recognized finally because they are also “faithful.”
The Coming Uprising against the Prostitute (17:15–18)
15Then the angel said to me, “The waters you saw, where the prostitute sits, are peoples, multitudes, nations and languages. 16The beast and the ten horns you saw will hate the prostitute. They will bring her to ruin and leave her naked; they will eat her flesh and burn her with fire. 17For God has put it into their hearts to accomplish his purpose by agreeing to hand over to the beast their royal authority, until God’s words are fulfilled. 18The woman you saw is the great city that rules over the kings of the earth.”
For a second time in the narrative John reminds his readers that what is being presented here comes by way of angelic interpretation, not simply by way of John’s own “seeing.” Indeed, in this concluding paragraph the angel three times picks up on what John “saw” (vv. 15, 16, 18). What follows, then, is the second instance in the present narrative (along with v. 7) in which the angel steps on the scene and said to me. The interpretation itself, interestingly enough, goes back beyond the description of the harlot in verse 3 to the angelic announcement in verse 2, thus to the waters you saw rather than to the desert where John had been taken so as to see this vision. Indeed, the interpreting angel takes John back to the opening description in verse 1 and explains “the waters” as a symbol for peoples, multitudes, nations and languages. This is now the seventh and final such listing in the book, whose unique feature in this case is the substitution of “multitudes” for “tribes.”6 John’s obvious first point is that Rome sits astraddle almost all the peoples in Europe and North Africa, and there functions as a prostitute by whom all of them have been seduced.
What follows, however, are not further identifications, but rather a further explanation as to the future of “the prostitute.” And even though not everything said here is immediately clear, the overall point can scarcely be missed. Those who have been subordinate to her, the beast and the ten horns you saw, who have largely benefited from her adulteries, will eventually hate the prostitute and be the cause of bringing her down. Thus, and again borrowing language from the Prophets, eventually they will bring her to ruin and leave her naked,7 twin images that depict Rome’s ultimate defeat and her final shame. The concluding graphic expression of this hatred takes the form of eating her flesh and burning her with fire.
But typical of John’s overall theological perspective, this is ultimately God’s doing, who has put it in their hearts [the beast and the ten horns] to accomplish his purpose. What John does next is to interpret their complicity with the Rome in terms of their agreeing to hand over to the beast their royal authority, and all of this until God’s words are fulfilled. This concluding moment is of considerable theological interest, since from the Johannine perspective, the final overthrow of Rome will be orchestrated by God, whose purposes will be carried out by those who will not have a clue they are God’s instruments of destruction.
At the end of this long prophecy of Rome’s ultimate demise, which at the same time is a kind of litany over her eventual doom, John makes sure that his readers have no illusions as to the identity of the prostitute. Thus he concludes, The woman you saw is the great city that rules over the kings of the earth. In the end, therefore, those who benefited most from her seductions will turn on her and “bring her to ruin.”
One should note at the end how thoroughly all of this is in keeping with the Old Testament prophetic tradition. For example, Jerusalem itself had been pictured as a harlot by both Isaiah (1:21) and Ezekiel (1:15). Likewise Nahum describes Ninevah’s barbarities in terms of “the wanton lust of a harlot, alluring, the mistress of sorceries, who en-slaved nations by her prostitution and peoples by her witchcraft” (3:4). Similarly Isaiah’s litany over Tyre (23:15–18) calls for her to “take up a harp, walk through the city, you forgotten prostitute; play the harp well, sing many a song, so that you will be remembered.” In the same way Rome is pictured here as living in wanton luxury, and as having authority over the nations in part by her seductions. But John’s concern is much less with all that will eventually happen to Rome as it is with the one stark reality that lies in the immediate horizon: she will be “drunk with the blood of God’s people” (v. 6). And for this reason God will eventually bring her down, whose well-deserved doom John goes on to describe with the powerful series of images that come next.
THE FALL OF BABYLON THE GREAT (18:1—19:10)
In one of the more striking moments in all of Scripture, not to mention all of literature, John at last announces the ultimate demise of Rome, doing so, not surprisingly, with a series of echoes from the Old Testament Prophets. At the same time he tends for the most part mo mentarily to drop the apocalyptic language and framework and offers the most straightforward prophetic moment in the entire book; and when apocalyptic language does appear it is mere dressing in this case. Here John has joined the prophetic guild in a thoroughgoing way.
Even so, what follows is a clear continuation of the vision that began in the preceding chapter, where Rome is pictured as a harlot. Although she is not called the harlot again until 19:2, imagery from the preceding description continues to appear throughout. Thus in verse 3 John speaks of “the maddening wine of her adulteries,” so that “the kings of the earth committed adultery with her,” which is repeated again in verse 9. So also the imagery in verse 14 is that of a courtesan harlot, who loves to parade her beauty and expensive tastes, while verse 16 basically repeats 17:4. One should note further that here there is none of the “beast” or military imagery from earlier in the book. And the martyrdom of the saints, which comes directly from their refusal to worship the emperor, is mentioned only in passing at the very end (v. 24 and 19:2)—lest anyone forget.
Part of the reason for this is the clear shift in focus. Both the structure and actual language, plus the absence of other motifs, indicate that John is no longer interested in Rome’s military might; rather he is here denouncing her economic policies, through which the leading families in Rome in particular had become fabulously wealthy during the years in which John was writing. Thus it is not surprising that when John echoes the Old Testament in this passage, the majority of these come from prophetic passages spoken against Babylon and Tyre, the latter because for Israel she had played the role of economic harlot in the same way as Babylon had played the role of oppressive, idolatrous military power. So in John’s view the military “beast” and the economic “harlot” are now blended into one power in Rome.
Echoing Isaiah 29:1, the passage begins with a lament over fallen Babylon (vv. 1–3). This is followed in turn with a warning to God’s people to “flee Babylon” (vv. 4–8), and then with a series of three laments (vv. 9–19), expressed by those who had the most to gain by their unholy alliance with the Empire—the petty “kings of the earth” (vv. 9–10), the merchants (vv. 11–17a), and the merchant marine (vv. 17b–19)—all of whom had “prostituted” themselves with the great “whore.” To these laments there is added a call to God’s people to rejoice over Babylon’s fall (v. 20). At the end, the absolute finality of these judgments is expressed by way of a prophetic symbolic action (vv. 21–24). What follows in 19:1–8 is a threefold series of Hallelujah’s as a divine response to the three woes, which in turn is concluded with a beatitude and final word to John (vv. 9–10).8 Here is narrative art at its finest, and one comments on it only with the hope that it will aid readers to see the splendor for themselves.
A Lament over Fallen Babylon (18:1–3)
1After this I saw another angel coming down from heaven. He had great authority, and the earth was illuminated by his splendor.
2With a mighty voice he shouted:
“‘Fallen! Fallen is Babylon the Great!’
She has become a dwelling for demonsand a haunt for every impure spirit,
a haunt for every unclean bird,
a haunt for every unclean and detestable animal.3For all the nations have drunk
the maddening wine of her adulteries.The kings of the earth committed adultery with her,
and the merchants of the earth grew rich from her excessive luxuries.”
Despite the Empire’s apparent invincibility, John nonetheless sets out to announce its doom in the form of divine judgment. Its apparent invincibility is also the probable reason for his beginning this new section as he does, with another angel coming down from heaven. But in fact this is not just “another” angel. Given the significance and enormity of this angel’s task—announcing the demise of the Empire itself—one might have expected another “mighty angel” as in 10:1 (cf. v. 21 below). Rather, John notes that this angel had great authority, to which he adds a further item as to the angel’s magnificence: the earth was illuminated by his splendor. This kind of introductory description is John’s way of giving his readers a heads-up that what follows will be something of special significance. Thus the angel’s task in this introductory scene is to shout with a mighty voice that Rome’s days are numbered, not with some kind of timeline in view, but rather as to the absolute certainty of it.
What follows is another significant moment in the book, wherein this angel was commissioned to sing a dirge over “invincible” Rome, thus announcing prophetically her ultimate demise. In typical fashion for John, the present dirge had already been anticipated by the second of the three angels in chapter 14 (see 14:8), where Rome was denounced for making “all the nations drink the maddening wine of her adulteries.” That denunciation is repeated here (in v. 3) after a full description of the totality of her destruction. Thus the mighty voice begins, in the past tense, Fallen! Fallen is Babylon the Great! As elsewhere this doom oracle is constructed from several Old Testament passages. The language “Babylon the Great” comes from Daniel 4:30, where Nebuchadnezzar boasted haughtily, “Is this not the great Babylon I have built?” The dirge itself comes directly from Isaiah 21:9, where a charioteer calls out these very words to the lookout in Jerusalem.
The Isaiah passage then serves further as the source of John’s description of “Babylon’s” demise, although he (typically) offers his own considerable elaboration. Echoing but not citing the Prophets,9 John offers a pair of doublets, in which he first offers his theological take on things, followed by the imagery itself. Thus the “great city,” the harlot, is doomed for destruction, and will become a dwelling for demons and a haunt for every impure spirit. One should not miss the theological significance of his starting here rather than with the prophetic imagery itself. That is, John begins by calling the “great city” for what it is from his theological perspective, “a dwelling for demons,” which is then followed by the prophetic imagery itself : a haunt for every unclean bird, a haunt for every unclean and detestable animal. There is a sense, of course, in which all of this was already true of Rome from John’s perspective; but his ultimate interest here is with the city’s future, not its present luxurious lifestyle.
In typical prophetic fashion, this judgment on Rome is followed by the reasons for it, again expressed with a doublet. First, those coming under judgment with her are the nations and their leaders, the kings of the earth, who have “fornicated” with her. Second, and now for the first time in the narrative itself, judgment also awaits those who have helped to make her fabulously wealthy, the merchants of the earth. The former, “the kings of the earth,” are denounced because they have committed adultery with her, while the latter are noted as having grown rich from her excessive luxuries. Although these “merchants of the earth” appear only here in the Revelation, they will get the greater press in the present denunciations—evidence that John as a Christian prophet sees clearly the connections between Rome’s military and economic power. But before he goes on to the laments of the three major groups, John adds a further oracle in which he calls on God’s people to “come out of her,” while at the same time elaborating on several themes from the opening lament.
Warning to Escape Babylon’s Judgment (18:4–8)
4Then I heard another voice from heaven say:
“‘Come out of her, my people,’
so that you will not share in her sins,
so that you will not receive any of her plagues;
5for her sins are piled up to heaven,
and God has remembered her crimes.6Give back to her as she has given;
pay her back double for what she has done.
Pour her a double portion from her own cup.7Give her as much torment and grief
as the glory and luxury she gave herself.
In her heart she boasts,
‘I sit enthroned as queen.I am not a widow;’
I will never mourn.’8Therefore in one day her plagues will overtake her:
death, mourning and famine.She will be consumed by fire,
for mighty is the Lord God who judges her.10
Although this oracle begins with a warning to God’s own people to “come out” of Babylon, the major part of it is in fact a doom oracle, calling for God’s just judgments on Rome for all her iniquities. Since everything now focuses on the oracle as such, John introduces it with simply another voice from heaven, which he heard. As happens regularly in the narrative, beginning with chapter 10, and picked up in our present verse 1, John’s own perspective is again that of being on the earth. The oracle itself is expressed in three clear parts: first is a call for God’s people to abandon Babylon, including the reason for her demise (vv. 4–5); second is a call to those executing judgment to pay her back double for all her sins (vv. 6–7a); and third is the pronouncement of doom itself, including its cause (v. 7b) and its nature and certainty (vv. 7b–8).
The call for John’s own readers to be prepared to abandon Rome begins with language borrowed from Jeremiah 51:45: Come out of her, my people.11 But whereas the Jeremiah oracle had to do with flight from Babylon because of Yahweh’s coming judgments on her, John’s reasons for Christian believers to flee Rome are primarily existential, representing two sides of the same coin: first, that God’s own people will not share in her sins, and second, that they therefore not receive any of her plagues. In light of some of the conditions in the churches noted in chapter 2 and 3, one must take this invitation/warning seriously, as something that must be heeded, if Christ’s own people are not to suffer the coming fate of the Empire. Although “her sins” are not specified here, they did appear at the end of the sounding of the sixth trumpet (9:20–21), mostly in terms of breaking several of the Ten Commandments (worshiping demons by worshiping idols, murder, magic arts, sexual immorality, and theft). The promised plagues, of course, are those narrated in the three sets of sevens in chapters 6, 8–9, and 16.
In typical fashion the next line of the poetry offers the reasons for the coming judgment, expressed in grand terms: for her sins are piled up to heaven. Here again, John is borrowing language from the Jeremiah oracle, this time from 51:9, where the prophet laments,
We would have healed Babylon,
but she cannot be healed;Let us leave her and each go to our own land,
for her judgment reaches to the skies,
it rises as high as the heavens.
Thus not only is the nature of Rome’s sins enormous, so also is their quantity; they “are piled up” so as to reach the dwelling of the living God, with the result that God has remembered her crimes. This is the language of poetry, of course. It is not that God could not see all the evil in Rome; rather, expressing it in the manner of the Old Testament prophets, John is announcing that God in fact will do something about them, which is what “God remembers” language most often means in the Prophets.
What happens next in the lament tends to catch the reader a bit off guard. For suddenly there is a call to her executioners to come forward with a form of the lex taliones (“an eye for an eye”), but with double measure. The suddenness of this call is explicable in part in light of the oracle from which John seems to be borrowing, Jeremiah 50:8–16, which begins like this one with a call to Israel’s captives to flee from Babylon (v. 8). This is followed immediately by a divine marshaling of the nations to judge her (vv. 9–10), who in verses 14–16 are directly spoken to, as in our text, and which contains the command: “Since this is the vengeance of the Lord, take vengeance on her; do to her as she has done to others” (v. 15). It is this kind of context, then, in which one should hear the divine summons that appears in John’s version.
Thus, and probably with the forces in view mentioned in the preceding 17:16–17, the summons begins, Give back to her [Rome] as she has given. Then, to strengthen the force of God’s judgments against her for her crimes against God’s own people, the call is to pay her back double for what she has done. This is then reinforced by a straight-forward echo of 17:4 and 6, where “the harlot” is said to be holding “a golden cup in her hand, filled with abominable things and the filth of her adulteries,” to which is then added that “the woman was drunk with the blood of God’s people, the blood of those who bore testimony to Jesus.” Now the divine voice calls out to pour her a double portion from her own cup, which seems to be a straightforward echo, but now with specific content, of Jeremiah 50:15 noted above. The divine summons then concludes with a striking spelling out of what this means, where what she is to receive is expressed in terms of Rome’s own arrogance: the glory and luxury she gave herself. One should not one read over that line too quickly. For on the one hand John is striking directly at everything the Empire thought about itself, its own “glory” as the greatest of all empires; on the other hand, he is equally incensed about the self-indulgent “luxury” that her powerful and beautiful people had given themselves. Thus, John’s call here is for the forces that will bring Rome to ruin to get on with their task.
As a final touch to this description of Rome’s present decadence, a decadence that calls for divine judgment, John echoes portions of Isaiah 47:7–8. Here in one of the more remarkable of all such Old Testament oracles against a foreign power, Isaiah announces that “Virgin Daughter Babylon” will “sit in the dust … on the ground without a throne.” John now applies this to Rome, for, as Babylon before her, what she boasts in her heart is twofold. First, she boasts in her present glory (I sit enthroned as queen), which from a merely worldly perspective was as true of Rome as it had been true formerly of Babylon. Indeed, it is difficult for the reader from our distance to appreciate how bold such a prophecy was for this Christian prophet who was in exile on Patmos in part because he himself had refused to “bow down to the queen.” At the same time, second, she boasts that I will never be a widow (Isaiah 47:8), meaning both that Rome expected never to be abandoned by her various paramours and that she expected never to be in the same helpless position as a widow during the Greco-Roman period.
The divine response to such arrogance takes the form of two kinds of judgments, wherein John is still echoing the prophecy in Isaiah 47, now from verse 9.12 First, in one day her plagues will overtake her, which in John’s Greek almost certainly means, “the plagues that she has coming to her will overtake her.” But in contrast to the widowhood and childlessness of the Isaiah oracle, John’s version of the “plagues” abandons that imagery for a straightforward listing of human ills, which takes the interesting order of death, mourning and famine. Thus the “death” of many will lead to much “mourning,” which is followed in turn by “famine,” apparently because so many who provided food will be dead. Second, the city itself will be consumed by fire, imagery that will be picked up again in 19:3 as an accomplished reality (“the smoke from her goes up for ever and ever”). These two expressions of judgment together picture a city under siege, where famine and death precede capture and the leveling of the city into ashes. Then, in a fashion also typical of Israel’s prophetic tradition, all of this is seen as having divine origins: for mighty is the Lord God who judges her, where God the Father, whose “might” is affirmed only here in the Revelation, is once more designated as “the Lord God,” as at the beginning in 1:8 and again in 4:8.13
From our distance it is easy for the reader to move too quickly from the warning for God’s people to flee, to the laments themselves, without taking the necessary moment to pause and recognize the sheer glory, not to mention audacity, of this moment. This dirge over Rome’s fall, one needs to be reminded, was spoken when Rome was at the absolute height of its power, and had begun to call herself “the Eternal City.” Her armies had both created her and secured her place of absolute dominion over the Mediterranean world and beyond. Yet here is an elderly Jewish follower of the Slain Lamb, himself in exile on a semi-barren Aegean island, now facing west and singing a dirge over the Empire. This is in fact the kind of stuff of which the entire prophetic tradition of the Old Testament was made; and this is the kind of passage that secures John’s own place among the prophets of Israel. Here indeed is the prophetic word of judgment on those who basically live off the backs of others, even as the latter “serve” their everyday needs.
Threefold Woe over Babylon’s Fall (18:9–20)
In yet another truly prophetic moment, following hard on the heels of the former one, John proceeds to carry out the most audacious act of all, not only pronouncing judgment on Rome as such, but following that with a series of “woes” cried out by the three groups who have the most to lose when she is “consumed by fire” (v. 8): the “kings of the earth” (v. 9), the “merchants of the earth” (v. 11), and the merchant marine (v. 17b), who in John’s language includes “every sea captain, … the sailors, and all who earn their living from the sea.” As noted above, there is scarcely an apocalyptic moment in this entire passage; everything is straightforward, echoing the style and language of the prophets of Israel. Here is God’s own response to the harlot and her ways, depicted so vividly in chapter 17.
The most striking feature in this litany is both the length and the nature of the specifics of the second lament, that of “the merchants of the earth,” at which point John steps into his role as a true prophet. Thus in keeping with the Old Testament prophetic tradition through whom the God of Israel “pled the cause of the poor and needy,” John focuses altogether on those who ply the trades of luxury, including those involved in the horrors of slave trafficking. Here God’s judgment is spelled out by way of an unusually long listing of their wares, twenty-eight in all, which come from every corner of the Empire’s vast domain. Indeed, only one item on the list, olive oil, is a local product, but by the time of John’s writing it also had to be imported in large quantities. Perhaps as striking as anything, however, is the breadth of John’s own knowledge of this dimension of the Empire’s high-handed treatment of those it had conquered. One does not need a great imagination at this point to hear echoes of Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Amos, among the more noted of the Prophets who, preceding John, likewise advanced the cause of God’s special people, the “poor and needy.”
The First Woe: The Kings of the Earth (18:9–10)
9“When the kings of the earth who committed adultery with her and shared her luxury see the smoke of her burning, they will weep and mourn over her. 10Terrified at her torment, they will stand
far off and cry:
“‘Woe! Woe to you, great city,
You mighty city of Babylon!
In one hour your doom has come!’
The first who weep over the demise of “the Eternal City”14 are the petty kings, who first appear in the book as those over whom Christ rules (1:5), but whose own first significant appearance took place in the preceding chapter, as in deep alliance (= dalliance) with the Scarlet Woman herself. But John recognizes them for who they really are, toadies who are both subordinate to the Empire and have almost no authority on their own. They are the Herod’s and Philip’s of the earth, who strut with enormous self-importance, but who ultimately lick the boots of the emperor. Nonetheless, Rome the harlot was also dependent on them, thus they are pictured as having committed adultery with her and shared her luxury. But in the end they were actually nobodies; thus when they see the smoke of her burning, they will weep and mourn over her. John’s focus, of course, is altogether on Rome; but he also recognizes what her downfall will mean to these underlings. Their time is over when Rome’s is over; hence they are terrified at her torment, as well they might be.
These petty kings, therefore, are the first to be presented as crying out the same lament, Woe! Woe to you, great city, whose “greatness” is then elaborated in terms of her power: You mighty city of Babylon! In the following two woes the “great city” is further specified in ways that are related to the speakers themselves, thus indicating that the real reasons for mourning had to do with their own losses, not with Rome as such. In this first instance the loss is expressed simply in terms of the suddenness of the harlot’s demise: In one hour your doom has come! Even so, for doom to come to Rome will mean that countless others, mostly sycophants, will also experience great loss. Thus it is the very brevity, and lack of further elaboration, that makes this initial expression of woe poignant.
The Second Woe: The Merchants of the Earth (18:11–17a)
11‘The merchants of the earth will weep and mourn over her because no one buys their cargoes any more—12cargoes of gold, silver, precious stones and pearls; fine linen, purple, silk and scarlet cloth; every sort of citron wood, and articles of every kind made of ivory, costly wood, bronze, iron and marble; 13cargoes of cinnamon and spice, of incense, myrrh and frankincense, of wine and olive oil, of fine flour and wheat; cattle and sheep; horses and carriages; and the bodies and souls of human beings sold as slaves.
14“They will say, ‘The fruit you longed for is gone from you. All your luxury and splendor have vanished, never to be recovered.’ 15The merchants who sold these things and gained their wealth from her will stand far off, terrified at her torment. They will weep and mourn 16and cry out:
“‘Woe! Woe to you, great city,
dressed in fine linen, purple and scarlet,
and glittering with gold, precious stones and pearls!17In one hour such great wealth has been brought to ruin!’
The eye-catching thing about this second woe is its seemingly inordinate length when compared to the two on either side of it; in fact it has nearly the same number of total words as the other two combined.15 Two matters are especially striking with regard to the present list. First, for the most part it is composed of luxuries intended for the wealthy. In fact those in Rome who have republican bents, such as Pliny and the satirists, Martial and Juvenal, also inveigh against the majority of these items in a variety of ways. Indeed, one would need only to walk into one of the palatial residences that surrounded Rome, and all of these luxuries would be in evidence. But equally striking, second, is that this list is made up primarily of imports, and that Rome itself had very little to export in return. Here John is dealing altogether with the power of the Empire in making it possible for the rich to become fabulously wealthy, and with those who otherwise benefit the most: “the merchants” (condemned here) and “the mariners” (condemned next). And of course, most of this kind of wealth had been obtained off the backs of the poor and the slaves.
Thus one is not surprised that John begins this woe over Rome’s collapse by noting that the merchants of the earth will weep and mourn over her; not for Rome itself or its people, but because no one buys their cargoes any more. Thus their sorrow is altogether selfish; it is not the poor and needy they care about, but that “no one buys” from them any more. But right at this point John breaks into his own sentence with a significantly long list of “their cargoes.”
The background to this list can be found in Ezekiel 26–28, in a substantial oracle against Tyre, the ancient master of the seas. The specifics in this case can be found in 27:12–22, where there is an earlier list of cargoes, which John has now specifically adapted to Rome. Perhaps the easiest way to comment here is to offer the list itself and to note where each item was imported from. It should also be noted that the list in this case is not random, but can easily be grouped into six categories, which in John’s case are set off grammatically as well as by kind (note the semicolons in the NIV), thus:
1) Precious metals and stones
gold (Spain)
silver (Spain)
precious stones (India)
pearls (highest quality from India)
2) Textiles (alternating between types of cloth and their dyes)
fine linen (mostly from Asia and Egypt)
purple (Asia Minor)
silk (from China, at great expense)
scarlet cloth (Asia)
3) Wood, ivory, metals
every sort of citron (root word of our “citrus”)wood (North Africa)
ivory (which caused the depletion of the Syrian elephant; so now mostly from Africa)
costly wood (ebony?)
bronze (Corinth)
iron (Spain, Pontus)
marble (Africa, Egypt, Greece)
4) Spices and perfumes
cinnamon (India, Ceylon)
spice (actually amomum, an aromatic spice from South India)
incense (all over the East)
myrrh (from the Near East, used for perfumes)
frankincense (Southern Arabia, again for perfume)
5) Food products wine (Sicily, Spain)
olive oil (local, but by end of first century vast imports from Africa and Spain)
fine flour (Egypt)
wheat (Egypt)
cattle (for large ranches; breeding purposes, work)
sheep (again, large ranches, finest breeds imported)
6) Horses, carriages, slaves
horses (from several places, for the races in the circus)
carriages (the word used denotes expensive horse-driven carriages of the wealthy)
human beings sold as slaves (from conquest, foundlings; for their large estates)
Here is a case where the list tells its own story, and little comment is needed.16 What needs to be pointed out again is that this list is not about the shoemaker or the baker or the household slave. This is about the fabulously wealthy, those who in every culture consider themselves as worth all they get, and who very often consider the rest of the world as somewhere beneath them. But John’s concern here is not with the consumers themselves, but with the “merchants of the earth,” those whose money comes from their dealing in such wares.
What happens next is something of a grammatical conundrum, since it is addressed in the second-person singular, and almost certainly to Rome itself, but without a notation as to the speaker. Most English translations (including the NIV) understand this to be the collective voice of the “merchants of the earth” who will “weep and mourn over [Rome] because no one buys their cargoes any more.” But one wonders whether this is not to be understood as the voice of John himself, who at the end of the litany of losses speaks prophetically to the city at the very height of her glory. That this is the more likely scenario is supported by the follow-up sentence, where John returns to the merchants themselves, indicating their own woe over the loss of the city.
In this view John, himself moved by the litany of losses of both the necessities and luxuries that marked Rome, steps into his role as prophet and speaks directly to the city and the wealthy who have just been described, saying to them, The fruit you longed for is gone from you. If so, then “fruit”17 in this case is not to be taken literally (after all, no fruit is mentioned in the list), but in the larger sense as referring to all the things, edible and otherwise, that will no longer be available when the city is brought to ruin. The sentence that follows seems to make this suggestion a truly viable one, since the speaker, picking up the abandoned harlot imagery from 17:16, goes on to bemoan for them their great losses: All your luxury and splendor have vanished, never to be recovered. This, after all, is not the stuff of sorrow over loss, but the words of the prophet himself, who speaks them with divine boldness directly to Rome itself. Thus he himself breaks into his own narrative and announces what will be true for “the merchants of the earth.”
One should not hasten on at this point without noting how much in keeping with the entire Old Testament prophetic tradition all of this is. John’s point is singular: that the ill-gotten wealth of the city of Rome represents a form of oppression that God has long judged as a corrupting influence that turns people’s hearts away from the poor, and thus away from God. The Jewish legal and prophetic traditions, to which John and the early church were heirs, are singular at this point. Indeed, John here sounds very much like Amos or Isaiah, both of whom regularly plead the cause of the poor against the Israel that had forgotten the heart of the Law, found among other places in Exodus 22:22–27:
22Do not take advantage of a widow or an orphan. 23If you do and they cry out to me, I will certainly hear their cry. 24My anger will be aroused, and I will kill you with the sword; your wives will become widows and your children fatherless.
25If you lend money to one of my people among you who is needy, do not be like a money-lender; charge no interest. 26If you take your neighbor’s cloak as a pledge, return it by sunset, 27because that cloak is the only covering your neighbor has. What else can your neighbor sleep in? When they cry out to me, I will hear, for I am compassionate.
In light of this heritage Amos denounces the wealthy in Israel, who “sell the righteous for silver, and the needy for a pair of sandals; they trample on the heads of the poor as upon the dust of the ground, and deny justice to the oppressed” (2:6–7). And Isaiah likewise begins his book with, “Seek justice, encourage the oppressed. Defend the cause of the fatherless, plead the cause of the widow” (1:17). This is the tradition to which Jesus, and now John after him, was heir; and thus John prophesies that the merchants who sold these things [listed above] and gained their wealth from Rome will stand far off, terrified at her torment.
Beyond that, they will also weep and mourn, and their mourning becomes the second in the series of three woes. But John can scarcely let go of his indignation, so their twofold woe to the great city in this case is followed by a further mention of her clothing and jewelry. Thus, picking up from the second category of cargoes listed above, Rome is herself now described as dressed in fine linen, purple and scarlet, while her adornment picks up from the first category: glittering with gold, precious stones and pearls. Thus with a marvelous play on the imagery with which this woe began, John concludes his lament over “the merchants of the earth” by noting that the “great city” that purchased all their wares has been judged by God, so that in one hour such great wealth has been brought to ruin!
The Third Woe: The Merchant Marine (18:17b–19)
“Every sea captain, and all who travel by ship, the sailors, and all who earn their living from the sea, will stand far off. 18When they see the smoke of her burning, they will exclaim, ‘Was there ever a city like this great city?’ 19They will throw dust on their heads, and with weeping and mourning cry out:
“‘Woe! Woe to you, great city,
where all who had ships on the sea
became rich through her wealth!In one hour she has been brought to ruin!’
Still following the basic narrative of Ezekiel 27 and its prophesied demise of Tyre, and now picking up from 27:4 (“your domain was on the high seas”), John’s third lament in this series is that of the merchant marine. Their demise would be an especially devastating blow to Rome and its Empire, since everyone’s existence by now was absolutely dependent on the sea. Thus with the demise of the “great city,” all those so dependent go into mourning, starting with those who pilot the ships (every sea captain), which is then followed not by the sailors themselves, but still with focus on Rome itself: all who travel by ship. Then come the sailors, and all others who earn their living from the sea (stevedores, dock workers of various kinds, shipping agents, etc.).
In their case, however, even though they begin by exclaiming, Was there ever a city like this great city?, the mourning is altogether a matter of self interest. Thus, even though they go through the traditional process of mourning by throwing dust on their heads, echoing Ezekiel 27:30,18 and crying out as before, Woe! Woe to you, great city, their weeping is over the demise of all who had ships on the sea, who had become rich through her wealth. The reason for their lament, as with those before them, is that in one hour she has been brought to ruin!
Thus concludes the laments over the burning of Rome; but at the end the reader should note again the combination of John’s (a) splitting the “merchants of the earth” into two parts, those who make their living on the land and on the sea; (b) framing the whole with the long center-piece describing the twenty-eight cargoes with its relentless monotony; and (c) saving the description of the relationship of the seafarers to the city as the final, instead of the first, word in the lament. Together these pretty well tell the story of this long oracle: God is going to judge Rome in part because, like ancient Tyre, she is using her dominance of the sea, now with the protection of the imperial armies, to set in motion a lifestyle that is utterly over against the living God, both in terms of God’s essential character and God’s self-revelation as the protector of the poor. This in turn is what makes sense of the sudden, totally unexpected response by John that comes next.
The Johannine Response (18:20–24)
John’s own response to the predicted fall of the “great city,” and thus of its Empire, takes two forms: first, as a call to the entire people of God, both in heaven and on earth, to “rejoice” over this event; and second, with a prophetic symbolic action. The latter is carried out by yet another angel, who then sings a funeral dirge over “the great city of Babylon.”
20“Rejoice over her, you heavens!
Rejoice, you people of God;
Rejoice, apostles and prophets!
For God has judged her with the judgment she imposed on you.”
21Then a mighty angel picked up a boulder the size of a large millstone and threw it into the sea, and said:
“With such violence
the great city of Babylon will be thrown down,
never to be found again.
22The music of harpists and musicians, pipers and trumpeters,
will never be heard in you again.
No worker of any trade
will ever be found in you again.
The sound of a millstone
will never be heard in you
again. 23The light of a lamp
will never shine in you again.
The voice of bridegroom and bride
will never be heard in you again.
Your merchants were the world’s important people.
By your magic spell all the nations were led astray.
24In her was found the blood of prophets and of God’s
people, of all who have been slaughtered on the earth.”
For the ordinary reader the transition to this call to “rejoice” from the threefold set of “woes” is both sudden and therefore momentarily startling. How does one rejoice over such a tragic ending? The answer, of course, lies with the repetition of the lex taliones (“an eye for an eye”) called for by the voice from heaven in verses 6–7a. Now at the end of the threefold woes the heavenly voice responds with a threefold call to rejoice, thus reflecting the essence of Jeremiah 51:48 (“Then heaven and earth and all that is in them will shout for joy over Babylon”).
The call, which grammatically must still be that of the unidentified speaker in verse 4, comes in descending order, not of importance, but of the size of the group. First up, and with the full clause: Rejoice over her, you heavens!, thus reflecting back to the host of heaven first seen in 5:11 and appearing again in 7:11–12. Then, singled out are “the saints,” regularly and correctly rendered people of God in the NIV, referring now to the large entourage of the redeemed. Finally, those who have a special role among the people of God are called upon to rejoice: first, the apostles, who appear here for the first time in the book, and who will serve as the “foundations” for the New Jerusalem in chapter 21; and second, the prophets, who appeared previously in 10:7; 11:18; and 16:6, and in this book refer to people like John, himself an apostle even though never designated as one, who speak prophetically into the life of the church.19
The reason for this combined rejoicing lies with the prophetic announcement, spoken when Rome was at the height of her glory: For God has judged her with the judgment she imposed on you. The “you” in this case, of course, refers to the preceding “people of God” and their “apostles and prophets,” who are being called upon to rejoice over Rome’s demise.
The rest of John’s response takes the form of a prophetic symbolic action,20 with an accompanying interpretation. To apply a metaphor from music to John’s literary art, this seems to be a kind of reprise to most of what has preceded, especially the utter doom of the city, expressed now in powerful poetry. Thus the entire scene concludes, appropriately enough, with a dirge over the demise of Rome. And again, one can only wonder at the prophetic role John has taken on for himself, not only to prophesy her coming collapse, but then to sing at her funeral as something already accomplished in the divine scheme of things.
The symbolic action with which the dirge is introduced is accomplished by the third, and last, of the three mighty angels in John’s narrative.21 The description in this case is almost certainly related to the angel’s assignment: he picked up a boulder the size of a large millstone and threw it into the sea. Although the significance of this action is not immediately apparent, it becomes so in the process of the dirge itself. First of all, the “millstone” represents the production of the most basic foodstuff, bread; so then, second, when there are no longer any workers of any trades left, that means “the sound of a millstone will never be heard in you again” (v. 23c). At that point, therefore, the symbolic action and the reality coincide.
Before going on to the details, the “mighty angel” announces the primary meaning of his action, that with such similar violence the great city of Babylon will be thrown down; and because the stone was thrown into the sea, “the great city” is never to be found again. The next five lines of the poetry (vv. 22–23b) then spell out in brief detail, and by way of example only, what that will mean for “the Eternal City,” each concluding with the litany will never be … in you again. The ordering of these judgments holds its own intrigue, as John moves from musicians to tradespeople to a single example of the latter. These are then followed by the loss of evening lights and the fact that there will be no more weddings, thus no further children as well. The final lines (vv. 23c–24) then give the reasons for these judgments: Rome’s seduction of “all the nations” and, especially, her slaughter of “the prophets and the saints.”
So John begins the dirge with the loss of the most important realities for those who live in cities: first the lighter side, the reality of music that makes any city livable, and then the necessary trades that make a city possible. First up then is the loss of joy: The music of harpists and musicians, pipers and trumpeters, will never be heard in you again, the first of three judgments which are described by the loss of the sounds that make up a city. A city without music would be no city at all, but a mausoleum, so this is the first thing John mentions when “great … Babylon [is] thrown down.”
The second and third items then move on to the actual reasons for a city: trades and their workers, those responsible for the existence of a city in the first place, as well as for keeping it functioning. To make this point John starts with the all-inclusive no worker of any trade will ever be found in you again. Then to make that point both more poignant and more devastating, he illustrates by noting next, and thereby also returning to the imagery with which he began, that the sound of a millstone will not be heard in you again. In many ways this is the more telling moment in the overall imagery. It is one thing to be told that the city will be without trades of any kind, but that point is best heard when it means the loss of one’s daily bread.
The next image, The light of a lamp will never shine in you again, is especially memorable for those of us in North America who lived through the Second World War, with the awesome eeriness of blackout sirens that plunged towns and cities into such utter darkness that they could not be seen by a pilot with the sharpest of eyes. Nights without lights mean a total loss of population; it means a Rome so devastated that no one could possibly be living there. It means darkness will have come to the most alive city in the Western world. All of which is brought to its climax with the final item, which also takes the reader back to the loss of joy at the beginning: The voice of bridegroom and bride will never be heard in you again, only now it also means the end of love and family—the absolutely devastating end of any city.
The final three lines of this poetry then spell out the ultimate reasons for all of these losses: the fact that the merchants of Rome were the world’s important people (!), but who used their (necessary) significance as a magic spell by which they led astray all the nations. This would have been reason enough for divine judgment, but John’s concern rests ultimately with the final word of judgment: In her was found the blood of prophets and of God’s people (“saints”), that is, of all who have been slaughtered on the earth. So once more John presents his readers with the theme of the martyrs, those who have been killed by the Empire because they claimed another Lord than Caesar, and refused so to acknowledge him—emperor, yes; but “Lord,” no.
With these words, John concludes the series of woes, divine announcements of doom on the three groups that allowed Rome to function at all as an empire: the “kings of the earth,” her merchants, and the merchant marine. But for all of these, which in their own right in the light of God’s former judgments on Babylon and Tyre are cause of divine judgment, the ultimate issue, and thus the one that will bring her down, is Rome’s own “slaughter of the innocents.” That part of the story, however, must wait a while longer, because John’s own immediate response picks up on the threefold woes that preceded, which turns out to be both a heavenly response to the woes and an anticipation of the rest of the story.
Threefold Hallelujah over Babylon’s Fall (19:1–8)
1After this I heard what sounded like the roar of a great multitude in heaven shouting:
“Hallelujah!
Salvation and glory and power belong to our God,
2for true and just are his judgments.He has condemned the great prostitute
who corrupted the earth by her adulteries.He has avenged on her the blood of his servants.”
3And again they shouted:
“Hallelujah!
The smoke from her goes up for ever and ever.”
4The twenty-four elders and the four living creatures fell down and worshiped God, who was seated on the throne. And they cried:
“Amen, Hallelujah!”
5Then a voice came from the throne, saying:
“Praise our God,
all you his servants,you who fear him,
both great and small!”6Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude, like the roar of rushing waters and like loud peals of thunder, shouting:
“Hallelujah!
For our Lord God Almighty reigns.
7Let us rejoice and be glad
and give him glory!
For the wedding of the Lamb has come,
and his bride has made herself ready.
8Fine linen, bright and clean,
was given her to wear.”
(Fine linen stands for the righteous acts of God’s people.)
In one of the many, obviously carefully designed structural arrangements that marks John’s Revelation, the threefold laments of verses 9–19 are now followed by a threefold shout of hallelujah! on the part of the great multitude in heaven. And while it is true that there are four “hallelujahs” in this passage, there are only three that are shouted by the “great multitude”; the other (v. 4) is an intermediate response from the two basic groups pictured in heaven in chapters 4–5: the twenty-four elders (4:4) and the four living creatures (4:6b). Thus the “woes” of lament over Babylon’s fall, coming from the three groups most affected by it (18:9–20), are now followed by a set of three “hallelujahs” by the heavenly multitude, which celebrate in turn God’s justice, the eternal nature of that justice, and the divine vindication of God’s people.
Thus John begins with a series of I heards, which by the very nature of things situate John in heaven once again, even though he no longer positions himself either on earth or in heaven. Again in typical fashion the first thing up is what sounded like the roar of a great multitude in heaven, who were shouting: “Hallelujah!” This first “hallelujah” begins with praise for three realities that belong to our God, namely, salvation, which manifests God’s glory and is carried out by God’s power. In so doing John thus picks up the moments of praise in 7:10, 12 and 12:10. And even though it is easy for the reader to read quickly past this series so as to get to the reasons for it, one should pause long enough to recognize that this is not a random series, but one that precisely fits the present context. At issue for John and his readers is divine justice, related to the fact that a thoroughly ungodly earthly power currently has the kind of ascendancy that seems both impenetrable and eternal; after all, in time Rome came to be known as “the Eternal City.” So what is at stake for followers of the Slain Lamb is whether or not the God they serve is true and just in his judgments, since present realities for them would seem to suggest otherwise.
The reality of divine justice on their behalf, again in a way similar to that of Israel’s prophetic tradition, is therefore expressed in the past tense, as a reality already accomplished from the divine perspective. Thus what John’s beleaguered churches need to hear is that “our God” has condemned the great prostitute; that God thus intends to mete out justice on an empire that cares nothing for God and will express its contempt by slaughtering God’s own people. The divine sentence leading to Rome’s demise is that “the great prostitute” has corrupted the earth by her adulteries, language that simultaneously echoes the imagery of chapter 17 and God’s earlier judgments on Judah in Jeremiah 13:15–27, especially verses 26–27.22 But the final word goes beyond Rome’s idolatries—her religious adulteries—and anticipates the coming bloodbath of believers in Christ. Thus God has avenged on her the blood of his servants. With these final two lines John in effect replays the content of chapters 13 and 18.
The second hallelujah shouted by the same “great multitude in heaven” offers clear evidence of John’s own literary skill, since in effect it advances the content of the first one only briefly, and slightly, by means of the imagery of fire: The smoke from her goes up for ever and ever. In so doing John thus picks up his own imagery regarding the judgment of Rome to be carried out by “the beast and ten horns” in 17:16, who will “eat her flesh and burn her with fire.” The fierceness of this judgment is expressed by the eternal nature of Rome’s burning—“for ever and ever.” This in turn also anticipates the final judgments in 20:7–15 of Satan and those “whose names were not found written in the book of life.” So once more John is following in Israel’s prophetic tradition, where temporal realities (in this case, the sacking and burning of Rome) are expressed in the language of eternal realities: “smoke” that ascends heavenward “for ever and ever.”
What follows next, however, is not the third and final “hallelujah,” for which one must wait until verse 6, but a very brief interlude of rejoicing and affirmation in heaven itself. Thus the two groups who populate heaven, and who made their first appearance in 4:4–6, the twenty-four elders and the four living creatures, are presented once more in the context of worship. However, in contrast to their first appearance, where only the “twenty-four elders” fell down before the throne and worshiped, in the present scene both groups fell down and worshiped. Equally striking in the present scene is the fact that the One worshiped is no longer referred to as “Him who sits on the throne” but is now identified directly as God, who was seated on the throne. Their only role in the present scene, however, is something of a cameo appearance, in which they affirm the praise of the multitude that has preceded them by crying out, Amen, Hallelujah!
At this point toward the end of the book, John pictures all creatures in heaven and on earth as joining in the worship of God, a concern that is then intensified by a responding voice that came from the throne. But at this point John leaves the reader simply to ponder as to the identity of the speaker. The content of what is said eliminates the possibility that it is God who speaks, since the aim of the “voice” is to call on the whole populace of heaven to praise our God, whereas the worshipers themselves are identified simply as all you his servants, you who fear him, both great and small! As with such moments elsewhere in the book, this interlude moment serves as a kind of formal introduction, plus invitation, for John’s readers and everyone else to join in the final “hallelujah” that follows.
Thus the climax of the threefold “hallelujah” is reached with the final thing that he heard, which sounded like a great multitude. John’s emphasis here, however, is not with the size of the worshiping group itself, but with their acclamation; thus he introduces their contribution of praise in terms of its volume: like the roar of rushing waters and like loud peals of thunder (waterfalls and thunderstorms!). And to get the point across, the NIV translators (correctly) rendered John’s literal “saying” as shouting the third and final hallelujah! This is followed immediately by the reason for such praise, and then by an invitation to worship, followed by a wedding announcement, the invitation to which is implied in the announcement itself.
The reason for praise serves as a kind of heading for both this final affirmation and for the coming conclusion to the book as a whole. John’s primary point is that the reign of God that was understood to have come historically through Christ (see on 11:15 and 12:10 above) is now being pictured as coming to its eschatological conclusion. Thus with a direct recall of these two prior moments, John announces the ultimate reason for the final hallelujah, namely, for not simply the Lord, but our Lord reigns. As before, the “Lord” in this case is further identified as God Almighty. And precisely because God, not Caesar, reigns, God’s own people are invited first of all to rejoice and be glad, despite their present circumstances. Not only so, but especially they are to give him glory, which of course means not that we have something to offer God as such, but that his redeemed ones have the privilege of joining “the great multitude in heaven” of “giving all glory” to the One who alone deserves such praise and adoration.
What comes next, typically so in this book, serves both as the concluding word to the “tale of the first city,” and as an anticipatory word for the “tale of the second city” to follow shortly. John’s point for his readers is almost certainly that the eventual fall of Rome is to be understood in light of these eschatological realities, in which God’s people are major participants. Thus a series of hallelujahs that began with a divine announcement of the condemnation of “the great prostitute” now concludes with a picture of the Lamb’s “bride,” where everything said about her stands in stark contrast to the great harlot. Thus John begins, the wedding of the Lamb has come, now made possible because his bride has both been “purchased for God” through the blood of the Lamb (5:9) and “washed their robes and made them white in the (same) blood of the Lamb” (7:14). Thus she is now pictured as his bride who has made herself ready.
Moreover, in contrast to the purple, scarlet, and jewels that adorned the great harlot (17:4), the bride of the Lamb, God’s own redeemed people, is robed with fine linen, bright and clean, which was given her to wear. Thus even at the end, while still keeping his imagery intact, John recognizes that for God’s redeemed people everything is gift, nothing is earned. So on the one hand, the wedding garment “was given her to wear”; on the other hand, such people are not merely passive recipients, so John adds that the fine linen stands for the righteous acts of God’s people. That is, they receive the wedding garment as gift, while at the same time they are clothed so that their active righteousness is visible to all.
Beatitude and Admonition (19:9–10)
9Then the angel said to me, “Write this: ‘Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb!’” And he added, “These are the true words of God.”
10At this I fell at his feet to worship him. But he said to me, “Don’t do that! I am a fellow servant with you and with your brothers and sisters who hold to the testimony of Jesus. Worship God! For it is the Spirit of prophecy who bears witness to Jesus.”
The significance of the preceding vision is now emphasized by a concluding benediction,23 which John is instructed to write. More puzzling at this point is the identification of the speaker, since John has simply, “and he says to me.” One can be rather sure that John intends an angel here, as the NIV has it, but one cannot be sure which angel he had in view. Although an angel with “great authority” announces the fall of “Babylon the Great” in the lament of 18:2–3, it is unlikely that John intends that angel as the present speaker. Most likely, therefore, and significantly, “the angel” who is now speaking to John is the same one who spoke to him in 17:1, identified there as “one of the seven angels who had the seven bowls.” The significance, of course, rests with the fact that this beatitude, which has to do with an invitation to the wedding supper of the Lamb, stands at the conclusion of a narrative that began with the harlot holding in her hands a golden cup that was “filled with abominable things.”
Here, then, is the true royal wedding banquet, and the benediction is for those who have been invited, namely, John’s own readers in the seven churches—and by extension all others who in all generations are followers of the Lamb. Here at last is the eschatological feast to which the many meals in the life of Jesus pointed, as does the Lord’s Supper itself, which is to be eaten as an ongoing reminder of “his death, until he comes.”
But an invitation to the eschatological banquet is not the final word; rather the angel added, “These are the true words of God.” Although this addition is primarily intended to bring closure to the vision that began in 17:1, at the same time it takes the reader back to the beginning of the book, where John introduces his narrative as “the word of God,” which almost certainly means “the word from God.” John’s point, then, is that here as throughout what he has seen and written down is to be taken seriously as “the true words of God,” that is, words that God has spoken, and therefore by the very nature of things are true.
In typical fashion, but also to stress a point made earlier, John narrates that at this I fell at his feet to worship him, a verb that in this case would have meant something like “do him homage.” Since this little piece of narrative is so completely unnecessary to the story itself, one may perhaps rightly wonder whether this serves also to warn his readers against any form of “the worship of angels,” of the kind that the Apostle Paul had encountered in Colossae (Col 3:18), a neighboring town to the Laodicea to whose believers John is writing. In any case, John is scolded by the angel, Don’t do that! The Creator alone is to be worshiped; every other being, heavenly and earthly, is to be recognized as a fellow servant with you, which in this case is elaborated for John’s sake to include your brothers and sisters who hold to Jesus’ testimony. The latter phrase, which is ambiguous in both Greek and English, almost certainly refers not to a second party’s bearing witness to Christ, but to the witness that he himself bore, both by word and (ultimately) by way of his cross and resurrection. Thus the singular command is to worship God!
With that John signs off this section of his narrative with a final word that is both one of the truly puzzling, and equally one of the truly important, in the book. The original NIV had rendered this clause, “For the testimony of Jesus is the Spirit of prophecy,” leaving the reader basically to guess what that meant, as to whether “Jesus” is the intended object or subject of “the testimony.” The updated NIV, almost certainly correctly, has put the emphasis altogether on what John has written in this book. Early on John had made clear that it is the Spirit who inspires prophecy. Thus he “was in the Spirit” on the “Lord’s day” when the voice behind him charged him to “write … what you see” (1:10). Now at the end of the primary narrative, John will not allow his readers to do what he attempted to do: worship the angel responsible for all of these visions. But for John, the “worship” of God, is directed back to Jesus. For this is what the Spirit of prophecy (= “the Spirit” who has inspired this “prophecy”) has been about all along. He has been bearing witness to Jesus. And, of course, this concluding word is likewise almost certainly directed toward John’s readers, that their true worship of God is evidenced in their continuing, by means of the Spirit, to bear witness to Jesus themselves.
1. The latter tended to fester quite a bit further down the social pecking order, such as that pictured graphically in Henryk Sienkiewicz’s Quo Vadis.
2. The original NIV read, “This title was written on her forehead: MYSTERY … ,” which seems quite to have missed John’s point.
3. By including this final sentence in the present discussion, I have chosen to go along with the editors of the Greek New Testament, rather than the several English translations, including the NIV and NRSV, which start the next paragraph here.
4. One might compare this with the myth that often circulated after WWII, that Hitler had not really committed suicide, but had gone into hiding in order to return again with great fury.
5. See esp. Deut 10:17, where Moses says of Yahweh, “For Yahweh your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome.”
6. For the comparative presentation of all these lists, see p. 85, n. 24; see esp. the list in 10:11, where also the word “tribe(s)” had a substitute word, “kingdoms” in that case.
7. For this imagery see Ezek 16:39, in the appalling picture of Israel’s abandoning the God who rescued her for a life of adultery (=idolatry).
8. As it turns out, this is one of the two rather unfortunate, if not disastrous, moments regarding the insertion of numbers in the Revelation, since by starting a new chapter at 19:1, the ordinary reader is left with the impression that something new begins here, rather than a very important concluding word to the woes in chapter 18. The other, even more unfortunate break was at 22:1, where that paragraph (22:1–5) so clearly brings conclusion to the material that began in our 20:1. See further both of the standard published editions of the Greek text, the Nestle-Aland27 and the United Bible Societies4.
9. See, e.g., Isa 13:19–22, where among other things the prophet declares that “Babylon, the glory of kingdoms,” will become a place where “desert creatures will lie … [and] hyenas will howl in strongholds, jackals in her luxurious palaces.”
10. The present spacing is not part of the NIV; it was added for the sake of the reader of the commentary, so that one might see the three parts more clearly.
11. Jeremiah’s oracle reads, “Come out of her, my people! Run for your lives!”
12. The Isaiah oracle reads, “Both of these will overtake you in a moment, on a single day: loss of children and widowhood.”
13. This language also echoes Jer 50:34, where the prophet declares, “Yet their Redeemer is strong; the LORD Almighty is his name.”
14. It is easy to see how this nickname arose; but it is especially difficult to trace its origins, which are probably later than the time of John’s writing.
15. In an actual count, including all the articles and prepositions, this woe has 113 words in the Greek text, while the other two combined have 123 (51 in the first woe, 72 in the third).
16. Although I have gone over this list with my classes over several years, I was struck again in putting it together for the commentary how much John knew about his culture, especially about the nature and dealings of the wealthy.
17. The word for “fruit” in this case has to do with that grown on trees, which ripens in late summer and early fall.
18. Thus, “they will raise their voice and cry bitterly over you; they will sprinkle dust on their heads and roll in ashes.” For this practice elsewhere in the OT, see Josh 7:6 and Lam 2:10.
19. For an earlier expression of this combination in Paul, see Eph 2:20, thus indicating that this understanding was a common denominator in the early church.
20. Cf., e.g., Jer 13:1–7; Ezek 5:1–4, etc.
21. See on 5:2 and 10:1 above.
22. Which read in part, “I will pull up your skirts over your face/that your shame many be seen—/ your adulteries and lustful neighings, / your shameful prostitution!”
23. The fourth in the book, following 1:3; 14:13; and 16:15.