Genesis? Romans? Or First Corinthians?

This 19th century Russian icon, known as the “Apostle John the Theologian in Silence,” shows the apostle contemplating the beginning verses of his gospel: “In the beginning was the Word….” Any icon of St. John which shows his fingertips on his lips– like a librarian saying, “Shhhh!”–is a warning to keep silent when approaching God if we hope to begin to understand even a little of divine revelation. Which biblical book should we begin to quietly contemplate next week?

Which is it to be? I am thinking about my next series of blog posts. Too many choices! But I have narrowed the selections down to three possibilities–a series about the book of Genesis, or about the epistle to the Romans, or the first epistle to the Corinthians.

That’s quite a short list, isn’t it?! It’s traditional to begin reading the book of Genesis in the post-Epiphany season and continue reading it until Holy Week approaches. So much of Genesis sets the stage for the drama of redemption in Jerusalem that our understanding of Christ’s Passion-Death-Resurrection can only be enhanced by understanding more about the book of Genesis.

Romans is always interesting–and frequently controversial. Many theological debates and battles have been sparked by someone reading a portion of Romans, sharing their insights, and someone else arguing, “That’s not what it means!” Struggling with Romans is to struggle with some of the most basic and yet sophisticated theological ideas.

Then there is the first epistle of St. Paul to the Corinthians. Corinth was a cesspool of a city in the first century; a friend recently described it as “the Las Vegas of the first century!” The first Christian parish there had many difficulties, reflecting the difficulties in the city. There were several letters from church leaders to the parish in Corinth in the first two centuries, each urging the Corinthian Christians to get their act together! St. Paul’s first epistle to the Corinthians is the first salvo in that series of epistles that attempt to deal with the problems in Corinth.

Which series would my readers be most interested in? What do you want to read a series of blog posts about? This is certainly not a democracy–I will make the final decision! But I am interested in knowing what you–my readers–think. Let me know which series you might be most interested in reading. Then see which one begins next week.

Or do you have another idea for a different series altogether? Let me know!

Fallen is Babylon the Great

“Fallen, fallen is Babylon the great! She has become a dwelling for demons, a haunt for every unclean spirit, a haunt for every unclean and loathsome bird. For all the nations of the world have drunk the wine of her fornication…. ” (Apoc. 18:2)

The whore of Babylon is overthrown and the seer of the Apocalypse sings a series of dirges over the fallen city–both Babylon and Rome, capitals of the fallen world’s opposition to the Kingdom of God. The ruins have become the home of vile and loathsome monsters–some natural, some unnatural–as kings and sailors and merchants and those who grew wealthy from the imperial exploitation of the world mourn their losses.

It is easy–perhaps, too easy–to see the fall of Babylon-Rome as the condemnation of all economic systems that depend on the exploitation of the natural world or the labor of others. Certainly the “mark of the beast” and the refusal to let those who will not worship the Beast to participate in the economic life of society reinforces this interpretation. The Apocalypse seer insists–in many ways throughout the text–that Christians must segregate themselves from the larger society; he does not see how the Church and the fallen world can co-exist or cooperate in any way. He only sees persecution and conflict between the two, much as Augustine describes the “two cities” struggling against each other throughout human history in his classic City of God.

Another way to read the fall of Babylon is to see the city’s destruction as the overthrow of all false teaching, which is at the root of all exploitative systems. It is the misunderstanding of God’s relationship with the world, the human race and our misunderstanding of our relationship with each other that gives rise to all subsequent exploitation.

The fall of Babylon the great is the overthrow of Arius, Nestorius, and all the heresies that the Church has struggled against in the past and will continue to struggle against until the End of Days.

Shaft of the Abyss

Another fresco from Mt. Athos that illustrates the Apocalypse. Here we see the attack of the demonic locusts described in chapter 9, the “first woe” of three to be unleashed by the angels faithful to God. These locusts, an allusion to the 8th plague that struck Egypt at the Exodus, are allowed to torment–but not kill–the people of the earth.

I saw a star fallen from heaven to earth, and he was given a key to the shaft of the abyss. He opened the shaft of the abyss, and smoke came up from the shaft like smoke from a great furnace, and the sun and the air were darkened by the smoke from the shaft. Out of the smoke came locusts… (Apoc. 9:1-3)

A fallen star is a fallen angel. Hence, the star is “he” and given a key to the abyss. Stars–in apocalyptic writing–are always angels, whether good or bad, faithful to God or not. The tradition of fallen angels is ancient though it does not appear in the oldest layer of biblical writing; the story of the angelic fall is told in 1 Enoch 6-13, an expansion of Genesis 6:1-4. Jesus also refers to the fall of the angels: “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven” (Luke 10:18).

The “abyss” is the usual Greek translation of “the deep” (ex. Gen. 1:2, Psalm 105:9, 107:26); it is also used to refer to Sheol (Job 41, Romans 10). In the Apocalypse, the abyss-the deep-sheol is the provisional prison of Satan and the fallen angels. In the gospel, the demons beg Jesus not to send them there (Luke 8:31). In this chapter of the Apocalypse, a shaft leads to the abyss-the deep-sheol and a fallen angel is allowed to unlock it.

Out of the abyss comes a great cloud of smoke and ash; from the smoke and ash come the monstrous locusts that attack people but are not allowed to attack the earth itself, unlike natural locusts. These supernatural locusts attack and torture but cannot kill; they can sting like scorpions and have a king (the word is more usually translated as “emperor”), unlike natural locusts (Proverbs 30:27).

Is the Apocalypse comparing the locusts to the imperial Roman system by using the Greek word for “emperor” rather than “king” to describe their organization? If so, then the Roman state–and any political system that is in opposition to God–can attack and torment the faithful but cannot destroy or overwhelm the Kingdom of God. I have recently discovered the work of Walter Wink, who writes about the demonic aspect of human political systems. As my friend Daniel says, “Phenomena like The Exorcist and The Amityville Horror do occur, but the real danger is from beings that assume power over humanity in the form of nations, corporations, political ideologies, and economic systems.”