Our World Exposed: Sermon on Revelation 17-18

It was dark outside on the night of Sunday, June 27, 1954, and a similar gloom had settled over the president's heart. It was, unexpectedly, his last day in office. As he sat in his office in the National Palace, President Juan Jacobo Árbenz Guzmán fiddled with the equipment that would let him broadcast one final message, if anyone would tune in and listen. Árbenz reflected as he readied his address. He'd been one of the first democratically elected leaders in the history of Guatemala. Before that, he'd served in the armed forces during World War II, when the dictator Jorge Ubico used them to violently crack down on... not criminals, but simply poor farm laborers. Árbenz had been disgusted, and vowed to help the oppressed if ever he came to power. Once Ubico was overthrown in '44, Arévalo had his six years, and then Árbenz had his turn.

In June 1952, he'd given his Decree on Agrarian Reform, ordering that land sitting uncultivated should be seized by eminent domain and distributed to the starving workers who'd actually make something useful out of it. But one of the biggest holders of unused land, whose value they'd lied about on their taxes, was the United Fruit Company. An American corporation whose ex-CEO worked in the State Department and whose past lawyers included the Dulles brothers – one now Secretary of State, the other now Director of the CIA. It was plain to Árbenz what had happened: United Fruit Company supporters like the Dulles brothers had lobbied President Eisenhower to approve an operation to meddle in Guatemalan affairs; the United States government had thus hired mercenaries to invade Guatemala and stage a coup d'etat. And it had worked. The CIA's propaganda had so demoralized his people and army alike that Árbenz stood no chance, and was now being forced to resign and flee to the Mexican embassy. So, though few were listening, Árbenz gave a final message for his people:

For fifteen days, a cruel war against Guatemala has been underway. The United Fruit Company, in collaboration with the governing circles of the United States, is responsible for what is happening to us. … The truth is to be found in the financial interests of the fruit company and the other US monopolies which have invested great amounts of money in Latin America … One day, the obscured forces which today oppress the backward and colonial world will be defeated. I will continue to be, despite everything, a fighter for the liberty and progress of my country. I say goodbye to you, my friends, with bitterness and pain, but remaining firm in my convictions. … Long live Guatemala!

And with that, Árbenz walked into the night, an emotional wreck, to live out his remaining 16.5 years in exile. But if any man in history who'd never run a country knew how Árbenz felt that night, it may have been John the Revelator. John would have understood.

Last Sunday, if you were with us, you might recall we started exploring the main cast of characters, ten in all, that we find in the Book of Revelation. And there, we encountered two trinities – one of God, Lamb, and the sevenfold Spirit; the other of Dragon, Beast, and False Prophet. God and the Dragon each have their throne of authority, but could scarcely be more different. God calls for truth, goodness, and beauty; the Dragon, or Satan, utters lies, authors corruption, and is grotesque. And just as the Lamb reflects his peace-loving Father, so the Beast – political and military power that turns violent, blasphemous, inhumane – the Beast reflects its spiteful father, the Dragon. And just as the sevenfold Spirit inspires witnesses to point truthfully to God and the Lamb, the False Prophet – a propaganda machine – points to the Beast and enforces its worship.

There we have six key characters, and the seventh and eighth are the crowds that worship and follow them, dividing all humanity into Lamb-followers and Beast-followers in the end. John could describe these things so well because he recognized them in his own time and place, when the Roman Empire's politics had become a beast oppressing nations from across the sea, and where the provincial council of John's own home in Asia Minor, having become enthusiastic for emperor-worship, was a false prophet leading the masses astray.

But then John has a vision of the ninth main cast member of Revelation's drama, and it's a doozy. Riding on the same Beast as before, John is shown “the great prostitute who is seated on many waters” (Revelation 17:1) that signify “peoples and multitudes and nations and languages” (Revelation 17:15). John sees her sitting on the Beast's seven heads, which are seven hills, and hears the name that tells who she is: “Babylon the Great, mother of prostitutes and of earth's abominations” (Revelation 17:5). Dressed in fine clothes and jewelry (Revelation 17:4), she's gotten herself drunk on innocent blood (Revelation 17:6), and not just that, but “the wine of her prostitution” has gotten the entirety of earth's society drunk as they prostitute the whole world to her (Revelation 17:2). But this same woman is revealed as “the great city that has dominion over the kings of the earth” (Revelation 17:8), “for all nations have drunk the wine of the passion of her prostitution, and the kings of the earth have committed prostitution with her, and the merchants of the earth have grown rich from the power of her luxurious living” (Revelation 18:3).

John and the seven churches would've known what he was talking about. When John says 'Babylon,' what they heard him saying was 'Rome.' Other Jewish writings from those days use the code-name 'Babylon' for Rome, even calling this 'Babylon' a “hateful harlot” that's doomed to fall (4 Ezra 3.2; 15.46-48; cf. Sibylline Oracles 5.158-159). The same churches John oversees had earlier gotten a letter from Peter and Mark, living in Rome, who sent greetings from the church in 'Babylon' (1 Peter 5:13). John and others saw Rome as a violent culture, a corrupt civilization, that was extending its influence around the world, seducing all subject nations into its evil ideals. Roman coins and statues portrayed Rome itself as a goddess, Dea Roma, seated on Rome's seven hills. John sees the same figure, but instead of a dazzling goddess, he sees a less savory figure, a drunken harlot.

John sees Babylon riding the Beast because the influence of Rome's culture and economy piggybacked on the movements of Rome's military power – Roman force secured the supremacy of Rome's privileged status as “a prime exporter of immorality,” as one scholar calls it. Rome's thirst for luxury goods was a problem that even Roman moralists complained about, but John's vision attacks it mercilessly. He rattles off a list of imports like “gold, silver, jewels, pearls, fine linen, purple cloth, silk, scarlet cloth, all kinds of scented wood, all kinds of articles of ivory, all kinds of articles of costly wood, bronze, iron and marble, cinnamon, spice, incense, myrrh, frankincense, wine, oil, fine flour, wheat, cattle and sheep, horses and chariots, and slaves – that is, human lives” (Revelation 18:11-13). Rome really did import those luxuries and give special tax breaks to ships taking them to Rome. But John sees exploitation, especially as he caps off the list with human lives being reduced to a mere commodity for Babylon's (i.e., Rome's) enjoyment. The Roman economy, oriented on luxury consumption in the city at the expense of the basic dignity of the common man or woman in the provinces, is entirely corrupt, built on violence and deception; but Rome's culture and supposed benefits are seductive, and John says Rome has all the leaders of the world out of their wits.

He finally hears an angel celebrate Babylon's fall and the end of its culture, “for your merchants were the great ones of the earth, and all nations were deceived by your sorcery, and in her was found the blood of prophets and of saints and of all who have been slain in the earth” (Revelation 18:21-24). Rome's violence, Rome's glorification of depravity, Rome's luxury when others were needy, Rome's arrogance in dominating other tribes and their cultures, Rome's alliances with self-serving leaders who betray their own people to it – John hates it all and wants his churches to see it as it really is. Plenty of Christians in the seven churches were working in the shipping industry and the business world, which were increasingly impacted by the imperial cult. And so John forces them to face a very uncomfortable question: Given how corrupt the whole system is, if God judged it and made it come crashing down, would you be relieved or distressed? And if you'd be distressed by the collapse of such a culture and such an economy, then whose side are you really on, after all?

All well and good for the seven churches in first-century Asia Minor. But what's it got to do with us? 'Babylon' goes beyond just the city of Rome. It extends to any culture and economy that bear similar traits. What John's done isn't just unmask Rome; he's unmasked the way the world will always work, left to its own devices. The world, bereft of God, will always turn to worshipping beastly power. The world, bereft of God, will always get drunk on violent entertainment, sexual depravity, economic exploitation, and the luxuries of consumerism. We have to admit – John tells us we have to admit – that the society we've crafted, the civilization we've built, can be a dark place – that the very things we accept as normal all around us may well be deceptive masks for less savory things. 

 

'Babylon' is ever with us. In our own time, there are cultural and economic powers that export toxic culture around the world and use the force of their economic advantage, backed by military dominance, to enjoy luxury at the expense of the poor of the earth, all while remaking the world into their own image. And if you'd asked former Guatemalan president Juan Jacobo Árbenz Guzmán, he'd have told you all about one such power. He might well have held this picture of Babylon next to ours, and asked us if we can't see a resemblance. For while we are not alone there (many cultures, past and present, must stand in the same line-up), neither can we claim absence.

You see, we may have to grapple with more of an 'American Babylon' than we ever thought. That's a hard thing to think! It was hard for John's first hearers to see his ugly portrait of their beloved Dea Roma; and we similarly find it hard to swallow if John were to paint a similarly ghoulish picture of a depraved Statue of Liberty – (which is, after all, a monument featuring a Roman goddess as well).  Can we bear to think of that casting choice?

 

But we sadly must.  We live in a nation that, in addition to maintaining about 800 military bases outside its borders, also exports its consumer culture around the world – just about anywhere on earth you go, you'll find Coca-Cola and Starbucks and McDonald's and our movies and our music. We live in a nation that imports goods from all the earth, striking deals with political and commercial leaders, with reckless disregard to those who work like slaves to provide what we use. We live in a nation that at times meddles in the affairs of other countries for its own advantage, but screams outrage when the tables are turned. We live in a nation that has indeed done its large share of global good, but often oversteps to congratulate itself as the sum of all virtue.

We live in a nation where sex and violence are the cornerstones of entertainment and whose appetite for illicit drugs fuels the crisis of neighbor nations.  We live in the nation where the decided majority of the world's pornography is produced and hosted; the nation that's used its foreign policy reach to force same-sex 'marriage' and other radical social and anthropological experiments onto other cultures; the nation that uses food aid and tariffs to reshape the global economy to its own benefit; the nation that talks democracy but routinely props up dictators if they say they like us or if we think we'd get less praise from whatever arose in their absence. 

 

All the while, we're a relentlessly unhappy nation of materialists, leading lives of luxury relative to the rest of the earth. Our hearts and habits are reshaped by individualism, libertinism, anti-authoritarianism, and consumerism. And so John's portrait of Babylon, of her relationship with kings and merchants – well, it holds up a mirror that we don't want to look into. I know I dread the hard truth I see there. But in reading Revelation honestly, I have to say: If John were the here this morning, I have my doubts whether any star-spangled banner would still be in sight by noon today. And if that thought seems too horrible to fathom, then we've found our idol. We've learned that we love our Babylon.

This is a painful and bitter pill to swallow. We are not used to taking an outside look at ourselves from the view of people like John, looking up at us and seeing right through us. We can choose to ignore John, if we want to. We can choose to embrace the Babylonian elements within American culture and commerce. We can choose to cling to our consumerism and self-congratulation; we can turn a blind eye to what John sees in us, in our world order. We can choose that road. Probably some of us will. But then John warns us that, when cultures and economies get Babylonian, they always fall – and woe to those whom Babylon drags down with her!

Or we can let John shock us back to our senses, away from our RVs and vacation homes, away from our TVs and heaped-up plates, away from our dollar-sign golden calves and our ruts of stale thought-forms and our art gallery of advertisements. We could ask John what we should actually do. And then we hear the voice from heaven: “Come out of her, my people, lest you take part in her sins, lest you share in her plagues” (Revelation 18:4)!   What can we do?  Leave Babylon. 

 

What does that mean here, here in our farm-rich county, to leave Babylon? What's John calling us to do, practically speaking? He calls us to be wary of the sins on which our whole cultural system is founded – sins like greed and pride and lust and gluttony and covetousness. He cautions us that, if we're immersed in Babylonian culture and its commerce, forms of these may seem so normal that we won't recognize them unless we catch his vision. He asks us if we can see ourselves through the eyes of the poor and downtrodden. He implores us to let God bless us with critical distance from Babylonian systems so that we can at last see straight.

John would call us to carefully judge all propaganda in light of the gospel – and that includes the patriotic slogans and party platforms we swallow so easily, with their cheap talking-points and their vain boasts and biases. John would call us to question the purchases and sales we've made. Who gets hurt, who gets left worse off when I do this? How does it affect the world for me to buy or sell like this? John would call us not to open our mouths and ears and eyes wide to take in American culture, not without a lot of straining and sifting – our movies, our music, our news, our television programming, all inevitably the packaged products of corporations serving the base things they worship (and that goes as much for 'classics' as for what's shiniest and newest). John would question whether we've kept enough distance to remain more Christian than American. John would ask if we've kept our sobriety and purity when tempted with Babylon's wine of passion. And I do not know what we can say. I don't know what I can say! How much has Babylon's wine already twisted our vision? How much do we love what's Babylonian around and within us?

A convicting thought. John has seen not just one nation, not just one empire, but the entire world unmasked and exposed. He's shown us the harsh truth behind things we've loved. But at the same time, before he showed us Babylon, John showed us something else: the Everlasting Man, the Living One who holds the keys of death and underworld, the slaughtered Lamb whom God's servants follow wherever he goes, the Lion of Judah. And John showed us a glory that puts all Babylon's finery and jewels to shame. As John's prophetic visions unfold, this Everlasting Man – (we know his name: Jesus) – offers, in the end, an alternative to Babylon.

The book will close with a last set of visions, showing another city from heaven – not Babylon which must fall, but a New Jerusalem which must descend; not a drunken prostitute, but the pure bride of the Lamb. This is the ideal civilization into which the church is called – through worship and witness and work – to help humanity and society grow up. Where Babylon glorifies violence, New Jerusalem glorifies peace. Where Babylon talks the arrogant talk, New Jerusalem simply shines. Where Babylon exploits and ruins, New Jerusalem extends equal generosity and builds up. Where Babylon is faithless and depraved, New Jerusalem is faithful and pure. Instead of Babylonian inebriation, New Jerusalem is full of clear-headed joy in the Lord; and God himself will be at the center of a beautiful civilization.

We'll learn more about this New Jerusalem later in the year, at the end of October. But John shows us this New Jerusalem to say, “This is what you must come out of Babylon for. This is the template for how human society should look. When you do business, do it like a New Jerusalem economy, not a Babylon economy. When you choose entertainment, watch and hear what looks like New Jerusalem, not Babylon. Live for the splendor of a New Jerusalem that lasts, not the luxury of a Babylon that awaits her doom.” The New Jerusalem John sees at the end is the template, the heavenly model, that Jesus ascended into heaven to plan. And just as John gives us a promise that every expression of Babylon will fall, so we know that Jesus' word will call New Jerusalem to the earth – a new way to be society, a new civilization. New Jerusalem is what the church has always dreamt of being, even as we lament that Babylon has colonized us and stupefied us.

So what can we do? We can keep careful distance from the foundational sins of Babylon, but we can also begin to shape our neighborhood in a better way, beginning in our own hearts and homes. We can build better things, keeping our eyes on New Jerusalem for inspiration. And it starts here, as we learn to worship God and not a Dragon, follow the Lamb and not the Beast, take guidance from the Spirit and not the False Prophet, love New Jerusalem and not Babylon. It is a hard word, stacked up against what we've bought as normal. But no one said following the Lamb was easy or comfortable. No one said our idols would be safe. No one said we could keep drinking Babylon's cup and still reserve a seat at marriage supper of the Lamb and his New-Jerusalem Bride. So follow the Lamb, break free from Babylon, and live to open glimpses of New Jerusalem in this church and in the neighborhood around us – to the glory of God, in Jesus' name. Amen.