The Book of Revelation: A Latin American Interpretation

The Book of Revelation:

A Latin American Interpretation

   For several decades the book of Revelation has attracted an unusual amount of attention among Latin American theologians, both Catholic and Protestant. Suddenly, about three decades ago, this last book of the Bible began to occupy first place in the interests and concerns of biblical scholars, as well as many lay believers. Spanish-language editions of the vast library of apocalyptic writings were produced, along with many serious commentaries on the book of Revelation. Important texts were translated from French, German and English, among them "The Bible and the Future" by Anthony Hoekema and several of the writings of George Elden Ladd, including his massive New Testament Theology.

   This remarkable awakening of interest in Revelation has nothing to do with the sensationalism, or worse, apocalyptic terrorism, behind a parallel surge of interest in the United States. Nor is it a resurgence of dispensationalism, which has had a very strong hold among the laity of most denominations. On the contrary, at the level of seminaries, professors and authors, there is a notable movement away from dispensationalism.

(1) The first characteristic of this renewal in Revelation studies is typical of general trends in Latin American theology, namely, a rigorously contextual method of interpretation. We find ourselves in a situation that is in many ways similar to the context faced by John of Patmos and his siete congregations. We also live on the outer perimeter of empire; our economies depend on the vicissitudes of the superpowers and the whims of our own oligarchies, more allied to foreign interests than to the masses of their own people; and in many of our countries, this unjust system is defended by violent repression with frequent assassinations, torture and arbitrary arrest. So it is very natural for us to read Revelation in the double context of "then" and "now", of yesterday's Asia Minor and today's Latin America.  Reading Revelation in the context of today's reality helps us situate the book in the context of the Roman Empire.

The aphorism, "the text without its context is a pretext", is a familiar slogan in many languages. Of course, "context" here is more than only literary; it is historical, socio-political, economic and cultural. Partially inspired by sociology of knowledge and other modern disciplines (linguistics, ideology analysis), Latin American hermeneutics has insisted on the careful, critical analysis of the double context for all interpretation of ancient texts, that of the text itself and the existential context of the modern interpreter. How Latin Americans understand the contemporary reality of our continent, for example, will inevitably affect, one way or another, how they understand the book of Revelation. Interpreting an ancient text is like cleaning a window: both sides of the glass, the ancient and the contemporary, must be clean and clear. Confused and obscure interpretations of contemporary realities are very likely to affect negatively the interpretation of a highly contextual ancient book like Revelation.

(2) This brings us to a second, closely related hermeneutical key, the pastoralinterpretation of Revelation. Evidence from the book itself strongly suggests that John had a pastoral as well as a prophetic relation to the seven congregations of Asia Minor.[1] He introduces himself as "I, John" (1:5), immediately expanded into "I, John, your brother and companion..." (1:9). Then come seven clearly pastoral messages (Rev 2-3) which prove that John knew his congregations well and loved them deeply. As to its formal literary structure, the book is in fact a very long pastoral letter, between the typical salutation (1:4-8) and the farewell (22:21). This pastoral tone is totally atypical of apocalyptic literature.

   As a pastor John would talk clearly to his people, in language they could understand about subjects and problems that concerned them. For the original readers, Revelation must have been one of the clearest, most easily understood books of the New Testament, since it has fewer abstract concepts and employed familiar symbols. The frequent calls to obedience and radical commitment presuppose a prior understanding of the message. The readers are expected to grasp the message without difficulty: "Let those who have ears hear what the Spirit is saying to the churches". Only the "hearing-impaired" would fail to hear the Spirit's prophetic voice in John's words (1:3).

   This pastoral focus is of immense help in understanding Revelation. Revelation was written to be read aloud, at least seven separate times, in seven different congregations (1:4,11). This "orality" is forgotten by many interpreters, ensconced at their desks surrounded by concordances and commentaries but forgetting those seven anxious, confused, threatened congregations who first heard the story read aloud. John wrote to strengthen their faith and kindle their hope. And curiously, when we look for this pastoral message rather than predictions per se or eschatological schemes, the central message of almost every passage begins to emerge clearly. There will always be details for which we lack adequate hermeneutical clues, but those problems should not deprive us of the blessing and challenge the Spirit was communicating to the believers then and can communicate to us today.

If we remember the condition of those threatened, anxious and confused faith communities, it becomes somewhat comical to imagine John coming down hard on them with complicated prophetic schemes or specific predictions of televisions and computers, which may be exciting for us today but for them would be totally meaningless. The believers would have left the meeting more confused and depressed than they had entered. But read pastorally, Revelation is an inspiring message of hope and joy in the coming of God's kingdom. Read pastorally, there can be no doubt that after hearing this book read, the hearers left inspired by a new confidence with courage to be faithful to the King of kings and Lord of history.

(3) This Latin American movement also seeks to be prophetic, but with a very clear understanding of what that term means. For most laypersons and even for most prophetic specialists, "prophecy" is seen essentially as prediction of future events.[2] However, even the most cursory analysis of the writings of the Hebrew prophets reveals that prediction is a secondary element in the prophetic calling. Fee and Stuart, in their classic How to Read the Bible for All It's Worth,[3] affirm that only five percent of the prophetic books relate to events which were future for the authors and readers, only two percent can be considered messianic, and only one percent should be seen as future for us today. On the contrary, it can be said that all of prophecy, including the predictive passages, is an urgent, compelling word to God's people. It is not prophecy because it foretells the future or fails to be prophecy when it is not predicting future events. We might say that the essence of prophecy is not prediction but conviction, the firm assurance of bringing a living Word from God. 

   The definitive characteristic of prophecy is not that it foretells the future but that it focuses the present in terms of the will of God. Even predictive prophecy, which of course is present both in the Hebrew prophets and in Revelation, is not introduced for its own sake, simply to learn things about the future, but to illumine the present and show the readers how to obey God here and now. It is significant that John calls his writing an apokalupsis only once (1:1), but five times refers to it as a prophêteia (1:3; 22:7,10,18,19).[4] John did not write in order to teach his readers about the future but to orient their obedience and discipleship in their immediate context and thereby our obedience and discipleship in our modern context.

Precisely for this reason, the comparison of Revelation with other apocalyptic literature reveals both similarities and remarkable differences. While John's Apokalupsis is obviously apocalyptic in form and style, it is prophetic in its mentality and message. The two most common errors in the interpretation of Revelation are "futurism" and "literalism". These twin fallacies would have us prefer, almost exclusively, literal and futuristic interpretations of the text, as if these were somehow more spiritual, and as if other interpretations implied a lack of faith in God's Word. While it is true that some (though relatively few) of the visions of Revelation should be interpreted literally, within the apocalyptic genre the preference would usually be toward symbolic interpretations.[5] Likewise, John's visions may refer to future events, but not necessarily so. It is significant that the verbs in his vision accounts are in the past tense, corresponding to the past moment when he saw the vision rather than future moments when predicted events would occur.[6]

Neither futurism (a-priori preference for literal future interpretations) nor an a priori preterist prejudice (relegate all of Revelation to the ancient past), neither a priori literalism nor a-priori anti-literalism, should determine our interpretation of this book. Our goal and duty as interpreters of God's Word should be exegetical faithfulness to the text, interpreted by the most careful methods possible.

(4) Very typical of Latin American hermeneutics is the principle of praxeological interpretation that maintains an inseparable relation between thought and action. John wrote to the believers not just to explain ideas to them but primarily to change their conduct. It would probably surprise most Christians to learn that they are expected to obey the book of Revelation. Those who delight in interpreting its mysteries would naturally ask, "How does one obey futuristic predictions?" Rather, for most readers, the challenge is to understand Revelation and know how history will end. Among the hundreds of commentators on Revelation, most of whom understand prophecy as essentially prediction, very few indeed have anything to say about obedience. In their exclusive obsession with the future, they lose the prophetic and ethical message for the present.

   Revelation begins with a promise that is a key to the entire book: "Blessed are those who hear and obey (têrein) the words of this prophecy" (1:3). The verb "obey" (têreô, "guard, keep", like keeping the Ten Commandments) is one of the most characteristic words of this book, and the very first paragraph pronounces blessing on those who obey what they have heard. The blessing promised in this verse is not to those intelligent enough to understand this book with its supposedly complicated prophetic schemes and sequences, but to those obedient enough to carry into action its prophetic message. All of Revelation is an extended call to obedience under very hostile and difficult circumstances.  No obedience, no blessing!

   One proof that the book of Revelation was meant to be obeyed is the great number of imperative verbs and other expressions with imperative or hortatory force. The call to obedience sounds throughout the entire book (1:3; 2:26; 3:3,8,10; 12:17; 14:12; 16:15; 19:10; 22:7,9). The definitive command of the entire book is that of unconditional faithfulness to Jesus Christ and the Gospel ("Be faithful, even to the point of death", 2:10; cf. 12:11), but other imperatives exhort the readers:

to fear and worship God alone 14.7; 19:10; 22:9

to repent 2:6,16; 3:3,19

to remember 2:5; 3:3

to prepare for the coming of the Lord 3:2; 16:15

to hope instead of fear 1:17, 2:10 (cf. 5:5 "weep not")

to rejoice  12:12; 18:20; 19:1-8

to emigrate from the imperial system 18:4

and to live prophetically in the midst of history (cf. 10.11).

   Very important, in fact the central commandment of the entire book and clue to many passages, was the duty to refuse all participation in the worship of the empire and the emperor, which constituted a kind of civil disobedience or non-violent protest. This was especially bold, because the price of this non-conformity came very high, including the possibility of death. And it was especially necessary, because the churches were weak and confused and the temptations to conformism with the world were nearly irresistible. A group within the congregations, known as the nicolatians, advocated a pragmatic compromise with this idolatry in order to maintain a more stable and tranquil life style.

(5) This leads us to the last and most controversial principle of Latin American hermeneutics, that of politicalinterpretation, a consistently "socio-historical contextual" focus on the text. We can legitimately apply here the proverbial refrain, "Everything is political, but politics is not everything".[7] Here we must steer between the twin temptations of over-politicizing the message when not supported by sound exegesis, and of de-politicizing a message which is in fact clearly political. Glib accusations of "politicizing the Gospel" are usually themselves political, motivated by an ideology opposed to that of those being criticized and to the message of Revelation. 

   Apocalypse may well be considered the most political book of the entire New Testament. Probably written in the last decade of the first century, under the emperor Domitian, it reveals John's deep political concerns and his impressive economic, social and political understanding. All this is seldom perceived, both because traditional misunderstandings of the nature of this book keep us from seeing what is there, and because a general lack of historical sense, and of knowledge of the Roman Empire, blind us to the clear references to the empire which abound in this book. The last thing we expect to find here are political denunciations, but they are there waiting to be discovered!

   In Revelation John vehemently denounces the political system of the Roman Empire. Although the emperor has John a prisoner on Patmos, John begins by defying the emperor and declaring Jesus Christ as "the ruler of the kings of the earth" (1:5). John frequently takes titles of the emperor, like Pantôkrator, or phrases from the imperial ritual, like "thou art worthy", and transfers them to the Lamb. In chapter 4 John sees a vision of the true throne, established in the heavens and under the sign of divine grace, over against the fragile throne in Rome under the sign of universal dis-grace. The seventh trumpet announces and celebrates the arrival of that new kingdom in its victory over the kingdoms of this world (11:15-17).

   The second half of Revelation (12-22) is John's response to the renewal of his prophetic commission with the call to "prophecy about many peoples, nations, languages and kings" (10:11). Although this basic four-fold formula is common in Revelation, only here does it mention "kings". This prophetic call is a special clue to the political dimension of the story of the dragon and the beasts which follows. The identity of the beast as the Roman Empire is shown by 17:9 (seven hills, seven kings) and 17:18 ("the great city that is ruling over the kings of the earth" when John writes, which can only be Rome).[8] The entire story (chapters 12-13,17-20) is anti-empire from start to finish. To call the emperor a beast, inspired by a dragon, and the capital city a brothel, was language similar to that of the imperial opposition.

   One detail is crucial to the story, especially in light of the Nicolatian heresy. The dragon, having failed in his attacks against the child and the mother (ch. 12), desperately needs a new strategy. So he concocts an evil plan to attack Christians through the beast (Roman Empire) and the false prophet (probably, emperor worship). In telling this parable, John affirms that it is the devil who has established the empire (13:2) and that those who worship the emperor are actually worshipping Satan (13:4). That should be clear to the Nicolatians!

   John also denounces the military system of the empire. The second horse, bloody red in color, carries the large sword of the Roman legionary, puts people to killing each other and dedicates itself to uproot peace wherever it might begin to surface. The harlot is drunk with the blood of saints and martyrs (17:6).[9] God will avenge the blood of all those assassinated on earth (18:24). With a marvelous sense of ironical humor, John attributes the battle of Armageddon to the war-mongering of three obnoxious frogs, vomited out by the dragon and the two beasts, who travel as propaganda agents to visit the royal palaces of the world and incite kings to mobilize for battle (16:13-14). Earth's kings, heeding frogs that whisper war in their ears! These same frogs crawl over our TV screens today and sneak their vile way into our centers of power.

   Irony and a touch of humor appear again in a seemingly passing remark in the account of the third bowl of wrath (16:3-4; cf. 8:8). The second bowl turned ocean water into blood, and the third all fresh water. This recalls Moses' first miracle, turning the Nile into blood, which some rabbis interpreted as a punishment for having shed the blood of Hebrew children. After the third bowl, "the angel in charge of the waters" interprets the meaning of these strange signs:

You are just in these judgments,

you who are and who were,

the Holy One,

because you have so judged;

for they have shed the blood of your saints and prophets,

and you have given them blood to drink

  as they deserve. (16:4-6)

Those who shed innocent blood don't deserve to drink water! If they like blood so much, let them drink blood, all of those killers, whoever their victims might be (18:24).

John's denunciations of the economic systemof the Roman Empire is so ample and detailed, it can only be summarized here. John had a passionate concern for economic justice and a thorough knowledge of the economic realities of the empire. Indeed, this keen-eyed prophet well deserves an honorary doctorate in economy. Although this thread of John's thought is very impressive, few readers perceive it, both because no one expects to find economic denunciation in this book, and because most reader know little or nothing about the economics of the Roman Empire. [10]

   The third of the four horsemen sits mounted on a black horse (cf. black market) and carries with him a pair of scales to sell certain agricultural products (6:5-6). A mysterious voice, like those regularly heard on the streets of any third-world city, shouts out the prices for grain and barley, and adds "do not damage the oil and wine!" The fact that this merchant sells wheat and barley by the pound is itself significant, since except in extreme emergency, grains were sold by bulk, and selling them by weight was seen as divine punishment (Lev 2:26; Ezq 4:16 Hebr). The voice announces its prices, "a quart of wheat for a day's wages, and three quarts of barley for a day's wages" (6:6 NVI), prices of criminal speculation.[11] Cicero tells us that in his time a denario bought twelve quarts of wheat (versus one quart in Rev 6:7) and 24 quarts of barley (In Verrem. 3:81). Today the black horse of the Apocalypse has been running wild through the financial centers of the world!

   The exhortation to not damage the wine and the oil has led to as much speculation as the wheat market in the preceding phrase, even identifying the oil and wine with the Holy Spirit, supposedly "damaged" by the rapture of the Church. A minor detail from the economic legislation of the empire provides the best explanation. In the year 92 Domitian, in order to protect Italian wine-growers, emitted a decree ordering agro-exporters from the provinces (in this case, Asia Minor) to destroy each year one half of their vineyards (Suetonio, Domitian 7). But the Asian exporters refused to respect the edict ("We will not destroy the wine", our source of imperial currency) and managed to persuade the emperor to rescind the edict, for their financial benefit but hunger for the farm workers and their families. John, with his alert knowledge of the imperial economy, knew that the other major agricultural export from Asia Minor was olives. It is impressive to find an Asian prophet so well informed about economic legislation from the capital of the empire.

   Another evidence of the economic concern of Apocalypse is the mark of the beast (13:17-18).[12] Far more important than speculations about the mysterious number is the economic purpose of the action: all those not bearing the required mark are forbidden to buy or sell. The goal is the economic strangulation of dissenters from the imperial ideology. Although the Roman Empire occasionally employed sieges as a military tactic, I know of no evidence that the Roman Empire ever practiced this type of discriminatory ideological boycott, nor does anything similar occur in apocalyptic literature. The very originality of this detail shows again John's profound commitment to economic justice and his sound understanding of the workings of economic power.

   The most impressive discussion of economic matters occurs in the extended vision of the Harlot, alias Babylon, the Roman capital (17:1-19:10). Besides the condemnation of the empire's murderous violence, already mentioned, this passage denounces repeatedly Rome's economic exploitation of the empire and her uncontrolled passion for exaggerated luxuries (strênao; 18.3,7,9; cf. 18:14; today, conspicuous consumption, consumerism!). This becomes clear if the chapters are read from an economic perspective, with "fornication" and "drunkenness" understood as the orgiastic thirst for luxury which Rome not only practiced but also fostered throughout the empire. Franz Delitzsch described the prostitution of Isaiah 23:17-18 as "mercantile trading, which is only bent on earthly advantage... recognizing none of the limits imposed by God, and making itself common to all the world [as] a prostitution of the soul" (Isaiah I:415). G. K. Beale, of Gordon-Conwell Seminary, has argued vigorously for the economic interpretation of Ap. 18.

   An analysis of the lament of the merchants (18:11-19) leaves no doubt about the economic interpretation of 17:1-19:10 and of John's detailed knowledge of imperial commerce.[13] In a sort of mock funeral, first the import-export merchants and then the maritime transporters wail with double "Ay, ay" the demise of their lucrative market. The passage is extended and very specific. In 18:12-13 John offers a list of some thirty products of imperial trade, mostly luxury items. Then, in more general terms, John notes that "the fruit (varied luxuries!) you longed for is gone from you. All your riches and splendor have vanished" (18:14). It is obviously a condemnation of the materialism and mercantilism of the Roman economic system.

   This dramatic passage in Revelation follows its basic model in Ezekiel 27. That prophet also gives a list of commercial products -- 51 of them! -- but they are strikingly different from those in the similar list of Revelation 18. Both lists are also radically different from what a similar list today would be: Mercedes Benz, Rolex watches, oversize refrigerators and whiskey to stock the shelves. This is clearly not an "end-time" list. On the contrary, it is reasonable to suppose that John must have visited the wharves of Ephesus to learn from the sailors the contents of their vessels and has incorporated these "bills of lading" into his text. John was indeed a very impressive economist!

   Finally, John also denounces the ideological system of the Roman Empire with its concepts of "Roma aeterna", "Pax romana", emperor worship, and the invincible power of the empire.  John unmasks this entire ideological apparatus by a spell-binding narrative, "the drama of the Dragon and his allies". The story, which occupies chapter 12-13 and 17-20, revolves around six "dramatis personae": the dragon, the woman, the child, the Beast, the false prophet, and the harlot. The entire story constitutes a vivid "demonology of the empire". The dragon is explicitly defined as Satan (12:9; 20:2), the ancient serpent, and the child is clearly the Messiah of Psalm 2. The woman of chapter 12 seems to be a composite of Eve (Gen 3), Zión (giving birth to the Messiah, Isa 54:1; 66:7) and, after the ascension of her infant son, the persecuted church. From chapter 13 on, the drama revolves around the two beasts and the harlot. The central teaching is that behind all the political, military, economic and ideological structures of the empire is Satan himself.  Over against the throne of God and the Lamb stands the throne of Satan (2:13) and the Beast (13:2-4). In that concrete context, history is seen as a conflict between the empire of the Beast and that of Christ the Lord.

In Chapter 12 the dragon wages war against a pregnant woman and her soon-to-be-born child, but nothing goes well for him. When he is about to seize the child and devour it, the child is snatched away from him to the heavenly throne -- exactly what the devil wanted to avoid! He then pursues the child but is defeated by Michael and thrown violently down to earth. Having lost the battle for the child, he now seeks to persecute the woman, but she sprouts a pair of wings and escapes from his clutches. Finally, furious and frustrated, he vomits a river of poison, hoping to engulf the woman, but the earth opens its mouth and swallows all the poison. Then, though he has had nothing but embarrassing failures, the dragon adopts a new strategy to attack the "other children" of the woman (12:17).[14]

   This is when the devil decides to create the Roman Empire (13:1-3) and the imperial cult (13:4; 11-15) as his last, desperate assault against the church. Thus John clearly demonizes the Roman Empire and informs all those tempted to accommodate to the religion of the empire that if they join in that worship, they will be involved in devil worship. Adoration of the emperor is, for John, adoration of the dragon who "gave the Beast his power and his throne and great authority" (13:2). As a result, "people worshipped the dragon because he had given authority to the beast, and they worshipped the beast" (13:4). Emperor worship is devil worship! The empire and its ideology are an invention of Satan. The message to the Nicolatians could not be clearer.

   In our times, when for many tolerance is the summum bonum among moral values, to "demonize" or "satanize" is considered an unpardonable lack of good taste, or worse, a grave sin against social and political ethics. True, of course, it is always dangerous to absolutize one political position as supreme good and its rivals as ultimate evil. Nevertheless, John teaches us that Satan is active in the political realm and he has no hesitation about demonizing the Roman Empire. As serious as is the error of seeing the devil where he is not active, the opposite error is to not see Satan's presence where his "principalities and powers" are all too busy. We should neither demonize what is not demonic nor "de-demonize" what is in fact demonic. A task for a Christian political ethic, and for the church as a prophetic community today, is to discern and denounce the satanic forces that are active in politics and in all of society and of history.

   John reassumes this narrative in chapter 17 with a new personality, the Harlot, also known as Babylon the Great. John leaves no doubt that the Harlot is a powerful contemporary city (17:18), the imperial capital which intoxicates the entire world with her luxuries and teaches them, like herself, to prostitute their wealth and power. In the same chapter, the Harlot, having been the last to enter the stage, is the first to depart, devoured by her own allies (17:16-17). Next the two beasts, who had been second and third to appear, are captured and cast into the lake of fire (19:20). The dragon, who was the first actor in this drama, is now alone, back to where he was before he conjured up the imperial beasts (12:17). Somewhat surprisingly, God does not also cast him into the lake of fire but assigns him a very long sentence of preventive imprisonment (20:1-3). Upon release, the dragon is totally unrepentant and with his new allies, Gog and Magog, tries to provoke another war. He and his rebel army are consumed by fire from heaven and consigned to eternal judgment. The world has seen its last war and the forces of evil have been destroyed forever.

   This whole story is intensely dramatic and charged with constant political overtones. Perhaps our endless debates about the millennium miss the real point of the long story, which a more imaginative reading and a more contextual interpretation could help us recover.

Conclusion: Latin American hermeneutics cannot claim a monopoly on the above characteristics, and is usually nourished by input from other regions and cultures. But taken together in Latin America, all this results in a particular perspective on Revelation, on eschatology and on hermeneutics in general. Exegetical methods which rigorously seek to clarify what the Spirit said to the churches of yesterday must be supplemented by hermeneutical methods which listen to hear what the Spirit is saying now to the churches of today.

   In the United States a caricature of Latin American theology, and especially of Liberation Theology, seems to have circulated, as if it were an impulsive, superficial marxist movement with little concern for serious biblical investigation. In my own experience the opposite has often been true. I have found great help from my Latin American colleagues, while I have often been disillusioned by the paucity and poverty of serious biblical answers from their conservative opponents.

   In these times of shattering changes and historic challenges, may the Spirit guide God's people, both north and south, into faithful and pertinent interpretation of the Word as well as a courageous prophetic presence to serve our generation in the name of our Lord.

[1] Although the author is probably not the apostle John, there is no reason to believe that the name itself is pseudonymous. He can be accurately referred to as "John of Patmos", a disciple of the apostle of the same name.

[2] The title of Dwight Pentecost's dispensationalist classic, "Things to Come", epitomizes this approach to Revelation.

[3] Published in Spanish by the Assemblies of God as La lectura eficaz de la Biblia. Since Fee and Stuart cannot be suspected of any anti-supernaturalist bias, their estimates of the predictive element in the Hebrew prophets may even be on the high side.

[4] Curiously, the noun apokalupsis does not appear again in Revelation, and the verb apokaluptô never appears.

[5] The return of Christ is described in 19:11 as coming out of the open heavens on horseback with a sword in his mouth (both figurative). John was capable of mixing in one verse the literal and the symbolic.

[6] The account of the two witnesses begins with future verbs (11:3) but then lapses into a hodgepodge of constant shifts in verbal tenses. Strictly, this passage is also not a vision but an oracle. The verbs in the famous text about the mark of the beast are in the past tense, and to project that detail into the future is not based on the text but on extrapolation beyond the text.

[7] I have seen the phrase attributed to Leonardo Boff of Brazil, but it is also the title of a book by professor Harry Kuitert of the Free University of Amsterdam.

[8] The references to the river Euphrates, eastern limit of the empire and threat to its security, also fit the first century and would have no significance for the remote future. The original readers would think of the Parthian menace to the empire.

[9] Obviously John would remember here the massacre of Christians under Nero (64 d.C.) and the bloody destruction of Jerusalem by Titus in 70 d.C.

[10] The economic strain of John's thought begins with the contrast between the wealth of the poor Smyrians and the poverty of the rich Laodiceans (2:9; 3.17-18). In 5:12 an innumerable multitude declares that all wealth belongs to the Lamb (cf. Ps 24:1; Lev 25:23). In 6:15 kings and magnates, rich and poor, cry out in panic. In 18:17-19 the riches of the empire are destroyed in one hour. In 21:24-26, the kings of the earth bring the riches (timê) of their nations into the New Jerusalem, to be shared by all.

[11] Josephus also condemns such speculation with the price of wheat during the siege of Jerusalem. However, the unjust prices in Rev 6:7 are due neither to military siege nor natural phenomena but to the economic policies of the empire.

[12] It is striking that the only description of eternal torment of humans is not against sinners in general but against those who accept the mark of the beast, i.e. who accommodate to the empire (14:9-11). The names of these compromisers are absent from the Lamb's book of life (13:8). If for John the beast symbolizes the Roman Empire and the emperor cult, this has very direct consequences for Christian political ethics.

[13] Curiously, when the second trumpet transforms a third of the sea into blood, "a third of the ships were destroyed" (8:9). This can only be understood as another divine judgment on the commerce of the empire (Beale 1999:477).

[14]The "other children" can be best understood as second and third generation Christians. Satan did not attack the "first generation" through persecution by the Roman Empire but only, unsuccessfully, by pagan and Jewish enemies. This is a central thesis of the book of Acts.