The Book of Revelation is perhaps the most notoriously cryptic work of literature ever composed. The history of the interpretation of this book leaves most students with more questions than answers. Commentators have come to little, if any, consensus on the interpretation of many key passages, and many of the best scholars of Christian history have simply thrown up their hands in bewilderment at the challenge of scaling its enigmatic heights.[1]
Thus, approaching the Apocalypse for analysis necessarily requires the possession of a couple of key items: one, an interpretive grid integrating one’s hermeneutics and general theological viewpoint, and two, a healthy dose of respectful reservation. Interpretation of Revelation and dogmatism do not go well together, despite the impression one might draw from the popular literature.
That said, it is the intent of this study to examine what
is hopefully a sufficiently narrow issue in the interpretation of the
Apocalypse: the identification of “
will of necessity involve the implementation of perspectives that have been embraced on quite separate grounds, this issue has been chosen for study precisely because it is my conviction at this point that a harmonization of the evidence for Babylon’s identity can potentially go a long way in contributing to the ever tapering “spiral” of one’s hermeneutical approach. If the conclusions of this thesis are correct, proper identification of the harlot may quickly shed light on such issues as general themes of the book, its dating, and interpretations of other problem passages.
In order to fairly acknowledge personal leanings, warranted or otherwise, that influence my interpretation of the text, it will be helpful as we begin to first examine the overall grid from which I am proceeding and the most relevant presuppositions I bring to the discussion. The three most pertinent perspectives to consider for the topic at hand are my understanding of promise/fulfillment issues (i.e., the covenant-dispensational spectrum), my view on interpretation of apocalyptic material, and my take on the book of Revelation as a whole (i.e., futurist, preterist, historicist, or idealist).
Regarding the biblical covenants: to state the matter
briefly, while I do not consider myself a dispensationalist by most
definitions, I find traditional covenant theology unconvincing as well. I prefer a mediating position along the lines
of what some are calling “new covenant theology.” This term is actually claimed primarily by
authors at the pastoral level,[3] but the
views involved are basically similar to those of such scholars as D. A. Carson,[4] Douglas
Moo,[5] Gordon
Fee,[6] and
others, who see primary fulfillment of the Abrahamic
promises as a whole in the present-day new covenant people of God, composed of
the remnant of the nation of Israel and Gentile believers who have been grafted
into the tree of God’s people. While
this does not preclude a future soteriological
restoration of the rest of ethnic
For my handling of apocalyptic material, I derive much of my understanding from the work of N. T. Wright and G. B. Caird.[7] While a thoroughgoing discussion of the complex debate over apocalyptic literature is outside the scope of this thesis,[8] I would summarize the gist of this perspective as the view that in the genre of second-temple Jewish apocalyptic, exalted, cosmic, metaphorical language is used to communicate the theological significance of this-worldly events in history. Unlike the idealist view, which takes the language simply as abstract metaphor, this position regards apocalyptic symbolism as having a focus on actual historical events, but with the full investiture of their salvation-historical significance, which is portrayed by the strikingly colorful rhetoric of the Jewish imagination. In other words, I see in apocalyptic writing the application of stock images from the Jewish worldview (which includes the Creation, the sovereign, universal kingship of Yahweh, the Exodus, the enemy empires of Israel’s past, and the rest of the narrative of her entire history) to major events that manifest the salvation-historical working of God for His people.
This then leaves open the question of whether prophecies can be fulfilled in multiple ways and instances. This question arises from the surprising manner in which the New Testament often uses the Old. For instance in the Olivet Discourse (Matt 24; Mark 13; Luke 21) we see Christ applying Danielic language to coming eschatological events even though it would seem that some of this material from Daniel originally found its focus in the events surrounding Antiochus Epiphanes’ dealings with the Jewish people in the intertestamental period.[9] This seems to indicate that God’s dealings with history are such that certain events may recapitulate key happenings of the past, perhaps filling out their theological significance in a greater way and a new context. The prophetic imagery of the former events may then be properly recalled with reference to the new situation, especially if historical experience or further revelation apparently indicate that the previous scenario did not exhaust the full range of God’s eschatological intention.
Such a perspective leaves open the possibility that some of the interpretations we propose as we consider Revelation may not be the final say in the matter. It may always be that God’s historical plan will work itself out in such a way that certain prophecies will again find significant realization in a future scenario. However, for the purposes of this study, my intention is to focus on whether or not the human author of the Apocalypse had in mind a specific referent for the Babylon/harlot imagery within the context of his own day of writing, and if so, to whom was this devastating polemic directed?
Related to this hermeneutical approach to apocalyptic literature is my take on the Book of Revelation as a whole, which is largely preteristic. There are basically four major angles on the interpretation of the book, namely, historicism, futurism, idealism, and preterism.[10] Historicism looks to the events of the entire Christian era for fulfillment, futurism looks primarily to the future (from our perspective), and idealism regards the images of Revelation as symbolic portrayals of the eternal cosmic conflict between good and evil.
As one who prefers a preteristic
emphasis, I understand much of the book to be primarily dealing with the fall
of
that ultimately it will be the aim of this thesis to
present the evidence (which I find to be persuasive) that this image is
intended by the author of Revelation as a veiled reference to
Thus, we will proceed to consider the issues surrounding
the interpretation of this text. While
this solitary issue might seem peripheral, the implications of the view for
which we opt on this matter may be of more significance than one might suppose. If the conclusions of this thesis stand up to
scrutiny, and
In order to get our bearings, we will begin by surveying the primary interpretive options for the identity of the harlot. Some of these are considered more viable than others at the modern table of academic discussion (and such will be noted when appropriate), but this step should help us to form a well-rounded perspective on how the issue has been handled historically. It should be noted that, to a great extent, one’s choice of referent is tied inherently to one’s approach to the book as a whole (i.e., historicist, futurist, idealist, or preterist); this will become clearer as we proceed.
Furthermore, to get a grasp on the issues at stake in each case this survey will also include a basic introduction to notable difficulties for each position, i.e., weaknesses that should caution us from embracing these options hastily (and some positions, of course, will inherently have fewer apparent weaknesses than others). However, it is not the object of this chapter to accomplish a thoroughgoing critique of all of the views contrary to this thesis. The reason for this is that the very enigmatic nature of apocalyptic writing inevitably creates a situation in which several different interpretations may be made to plausibly fit the evidence. Therefore, much of the argument for the particular position represented by this thesis, rather than being focused on deficiencies in opposing views, will be contingent upon what I perceive to be the balance of the relative weight of evidence in favor of the Jerusalem view vis-à-vis the other options. In other words, I will try to show that the traditional preterist view makes the most sense of the most facts and on this basis is to be preferred.
The first view will we will look at is the idea that the harlot represents Roman Catholicism, a belief that became popular in the days following the Reformation, for obvious reasons. This view is tied closely to the historicist view in general, which sees the Book of Revelation as describing the whole of church history. With the continuing demise of historicism, however, proponents of this interpretation have become few and far between.[11] It should nevertheless be recognized that this identification was once quite dominant, and has been held by Jonathan Edwards,[12] Adam Clarke,[13] E. B. Elliott,[14] and a host of others.[15] Having said that, we should take note that this position is probably best understood as a natural Protestant outgrowth of the Reformation controversies.
Support for this view has been found in several areas. A key argument would be the nature of the adultery motif, which may imply that the harlot is a character that has at one time been allied with God and has since apostatized, rather than a merely pagan figure.[16] In other words, the Apocalypse would be portraying Catholicism as an institution that at one time in history constituted the very people of God, but at some point forsook her God, presumably by corruption and abandonment of the gospel (the primary contentions of the Protestant Reformers).
Moreover, the adornment of the adulterous woman (17:4) has been seen to exemplify pompous worship in Catholicism, or perhaps even the actual colors of the robes of the popes and cardinals.[17] Also, the woman’s drunkenness from the saints’ blood (17:6) could be read to align with the Catholic persecution of Protestants throughout history.[18]
However, despite its strong historical following, there are significant problems with this option. First of all, it is worth noting that the proponents of this view also regard the beast figure of Revelation as a Papal/Catholic symbol. This creates a conundrum for the historicist that will plague some of the other views as well, namely, the relationship between the beast and the harlot. As we will observe below, these two figures are often treated by some as having the same referent, but such a standpoint is difficult to reconcile with Revelation’s portrayal of the two as distinct characters—characters that, moreover, actually war against one another by the end of chapter 17.[19]
But perhaps the key difficulty for such a position is that it feels suspiciously like a reaction to many commentators’ own contexts. This should give us pause as to whether such interpreters have been more influenced by sound exegesis or historical and theological agendas. Granted, this is not specifically an interpretive problem associated with the text itself on this approach, but it does raise some incriminating “red flags.” All of us, no doubt, read Scripture through the lens of our own struggles and cultural parameters, and it is quite understandable that we should find such polemically loaded interpretation arising in such trying times of religious crisis. Still, even if some alleged evidences can be found in the text itself for this position, it is probably a healthy caution to keep in mind that any of us in any period of history can find apparent prophetic parallels from Scripture relating to our own experiences if we look hard enough. If anything, it may be best to see this view as a possible application of the text via analogy, rather than its strict interpretation. If there are greater strengths to consider in competing views, we can probably feel confident in leaving this one in its own time and moving forward.
Related to this issue is the question of how such a meaning would have had relevance to its original audience. This question must continue to be active in our mind as we survey the major viewpoints. Granted, we cannot always put our full confidence of interpretation in what may or may not have been the understanding of the intended audience, but since the Book of Revelation presents itself as a source of encouragement and blessing to those who were to receive it, it seems unlikely that its contents would be focused on the fall of an ecclesiastical institution centuries away.[20] Does it not appear that this interpretation is curiously more comforting to persecuted Protestants of the sixteenth century than to first-century Christians?
Thus, F. F. Bruce sternly comments, “No important
contribution to exegesis of Revelation was made by [historicists], whether J.
A. Bengel in
Perhaps even more devastating is Tenney’s
observation: “The historicist view which attempts to interpret the Apocalypse
by the development of the church in the last nineteen centuries, seldom if ever takes cognizance of the
church outside
For these reasons, the view that regards Babylon as a symbol for the Roman Catholic Church is largely regarded today, and rightly so, as the least defensible.
Some strict futurists see in Revelation the expectation of
a renewed Babylonian empire in the eschaton that will
dominate the world and persecute the followers of Christ. While a view like
this could merely expect a generic future empire in the vein of historic
Granted, such a view holds the advantage of being the easiest method of deciphering the text,
but it is far from a foregone conclusion that Scripture consistently yields
itself (especially in prophetic contexts) to the easiest interpretation.[25] Moreover, there is obviously little to
critique regarding whether this view can fit the details of the description of
First of all, the harlot’s name (or at least the
presentation of the character[26]) is a
“mystery” (musthvrion),
which should already give us pause regarding a literalistic
interpretation. Beale regards the term
as describing “a hidden meaning of ‘
Great’ that needs further revelatory interpretation.”[27] Similarly, Morris remarks, “Mystery will indicate that the
significance of the harlot’s name is not open and obvious to all.”[28] This is not determinitive
for a non-literal assessment of the name, but this approach is strengthened
when we consider an earlier passage.
Interestingly, in 11:8, we see that “the great city” being discussed in
that context can be “spiritually called
Dyer runs into problems as well by attempting to press the
notion that the Old Testament prophecies declaring that
Thus, the major problem with this position is that it fails to adequately address the way the image of the harlot is presented in the passage with regard to apocalyptic style and the general thrust of the rhetoric in terms of audience relevance. This is perhaps most clear from the fact that such a view requires the reader to presuppose the future rebuilding of the empire of Babylon on the Euphrates without any textual indication of such an event, purely on the assumption that the referent is in the distant future—a time when this empire, as history has now shown, would otherwise be a distant memory. In other words, seeing the harlot as a representation of this literal kingdom in the future requires one to posit a future rebuilding, without any warrant from the text (that is, there is no description of a rebuilding or secondary rise anywhere in Revelation itself).[35]
All in all, this view is attractive if we are seeking easily accessible answers, but it is ultimately unsatisfying in light of the greater complexities of the apocalyptic genre that are now so widely recognized. And, as we have noted, the real issue for our study is not whether or not a case can be made for a given view, but rather whether one particular interpretation seems to have the most evidence that it is the best answer.
The theory that the harlot represents an end-time apostasy of the church (a believing remnant notwithstanding) is similar to the Roman Catholicism view described above, but with less ties to specific historical contexts. William Milligan is probably the most notable representative of this view,[36] although Beale and Hamstra have sympathies with it as well.[37] Like the Catholicism view, this position relies heavily on the implications of the adultery motif.[38] Basically, it accepts the theory that adultery in prophetic terms implies former alliance with God and then casts this theme in a futuristic context. Christianity en masse is thus taken as the group that has defected from its Lord.
The obvious strength of this hypothesis is that it seems
to fit well with the themes of the context and yet avoids the arbitrary
imposition of a commentator’s own historical setting back onto the text. Still, even this interpretation feels a bit
distant from the original audience, and it may not do justice to the detail of
imagery John employs in order to hint at the proper solution. Otherwise, there is admittedly little to
object to when considering this position exegetically, and it is therefore in
my estimation one of the stronger options.
My reason for being unpersuaded by this view,
as in the case of several others, is not that there is an insurmountably high
volume of counter-evidence against it, but rather that the evidence in favor of
another position is strong enough so as to displace the other views, rendering
them unconvincing by default.
By far, the majority view among modern scholars is that
the Babylonian whore represents first-century
However, there are several problems with this view. First, if the book is more properly dated
before A.D. 70 (see below, chap 3), the political and social background for the
scene changes, and
What then of the harlot?
This is a highly underrated difficulty for those who follow the
Furthermore, this option, while hitting the mark with
regard to relevance for the original audience, makes little connection to the
theme of adultery (that is, if this theme is, in fact, related to being at one
time allied with God).
However, this interpretation certainly has its merits, and
has convinced most of the academic community.
In fact, despite its problems, I tend to think I would personally lean
toward this view myself if I were not persuaded of another perspective. Again, the argument of this thesis is not
that all other views beside the
One plausible interpretation that carries a lot of weight
within the camp of idealism is that
While this position is no doubt theologically sound and
meaningful, and is certainly attractive in light of its intrinsic “non-falsifiability” (i.e., with this position, one cannot
technically be “wrong,” right?), the problem this raises is whether this in and
of itself represents a satisfactory understanding of the nature of apocalyptic
literature, especially within the canon of Scripture. Of course, we must be cautious of grouping
all such literature together, as if second-temple Judaism was less than
diverse. But general patterns, most
notably in the biblical prophetic tradition, are probably better understood as
showing a concern with history, not merely
theology.[56] Wright has gone to great lengths to contend
“[Jews of the period] knew a good metaphor when they saw one, and used cosmic
imagery to bring out the full theological significance of cataclysmic
socio-political events.”[57] Or, as he asserts elsewhere, “It will not do
to dismiss … ‘apocalyptic’ [language] as ‘merely metaphorical.’ Metaphors
have teeth; the complex metaphors available to first-century Jews had
particularly sharp ones, and they could be, and apparently were, reapplied to a
variety of scenarios, all within this-worldly
history.”[58] Various and sundry applications can be drawn
from the idealist position, but if the evidence points to a more specific
referent in the mind of the author, we should be willing to recognize what may
be the more primary emphasis of the images in question.
Although many students of the Book of Revelation are perhaps not even aware of this position,[59] I am persuaded thus far that the many lines of evidence that illuminate our understanding of this mysterious metaphor are best synthesized in the view that the harlot Babylon is intended first and foremost to represent the city of Jerusalem in the first century, being judged by God in her desolation by Rome. Others who share this view include Ford,[60] Russell,[61] Terry,[62] Chilton,[63] Gentry,[64] and apparently, N. T. Wright.[65] I believe this solution can answer the most questions surrounding the text, and that it fits most naturally with the themes of the book and in the ears of the original audience. Moreover, I believe there are several direct hints and clues given by the writer to help the reader properly identify the promiscuous character. We will therefore devote the remainder of this study to examining the evidence regarding this view, beginning with an assessment of its chief objection: the date of Revelation.
One of the biggest difficulties for our interpretation of the material in Revelation 17–18 has always been the date of the writing of the book. While other aspects of the Jerusalem view will be considered below, a more thorough investigation must be made regarding the date issue before any defense of this interpretation is set forth, primarily because many of the scholars who reject preteristic interpretation of the book do so quite often a priori on the basis of the currently dominant view that the Apocalypse was written in the 90s, which of course quickly rules out the stance that much of the book is a prediction of Jerusalem’s destruction in A.D. 70.[66] This objection, therefore, must be overcome at the outset if any serious consideration to preteristic interpretation is to be given.
Just how pivotal is an earlier date to the
Thus, the late date is not a deathblow, but it must
certainly be admitted that it significantly lessens the likelihood of our
interpretation. On the other hand, we
need not necessarily prove a pre-70
date, per se, in order to take seriously the
One related issue is worth noting at this point. Some difficulty arises in this question from the fact that the Book of Revelation differs so greatly in style from the Gospel of John. It seems unlikely that if the two were both written by John the Apostle they could have been written in the same decade. This obviously creates a conundrum for anyone who places both either in the 60s or the 90s. However, when we consider the fact that the authorship of both books as well as the date of both books remain unresolved questions for many scholars, there are enough variables to allow for several plausible scenarios. For instance: some recent scholars, such as Wallace, have gone against the flow of the consensus and argued strongly for a pre-70 date for John.[70] However, the Gospel of John itself never claims to have been written by the Apostle, and it is common knowledge that many commentators prefer to ascribe it to someone else.[71] Thus, if we were to accept the early date of the Gospel, it could still be that John wrote Revelation pre-70 and another author penned the Gospel. On the other hand, skepticism of the identity of the “John” who wrote Revelation emerged as early as Eusebius[72] and is certainly a common view to this day. Therefore it could just as easily be claimed that John wrote the Gospel pre-70 just as some other unknown author was crafting the Apocalypse. Regardless, the overwhelming majority of scholars take a late date of John anyway, and this, if correct, would only fit better with an early date of Revelation. In other words, the authorship question is not crucial here.
What is crucial is the question of why the date under the Roman emperor Domitian has become so widely accepted. It seems in many circles to be an issue one dares not question. And yet, in recent years, a number of highly reputable scholars are reconsidering the party line and have come out in favor of the pre-70 position. Major
New Testament scholars such as C. F. D. Moule[73], Joseph Fitzmyer[74], F. F.
Bruce[75], E.
Earle Ellis[76],
and J. A. T. Robinson[77] have
all recently supported the early date position.[78] Moreover, this is far from novel. In reality, these writers are merely
returning to what was once the foregone conclusion of nearly the entire New
Testament studies world. As
How then did the pendulum swing? Before the turn of the century, the date seemed unshakable, and by the middle of the twentieth, the same had become true for the opposing position! What sparked this overturn? Why are so few willing to come out in favor of an earlier date today?
To answer these questions and get a grasp on the issues regarding the time of the Apocalypse’s writing, we will consider the areas of evidence that seem to be most compelling to modern scholars. These fall largely into three major arenas discussed below: the historical testimony of writers in the church, the nature of the imperial reign of Domitian Caesar, and certain important internal indications of date.
Overwhelmingly, the key reason why most scholars reject an
early date for the book is a supposed unanimity among the church fathers
regarding a Domitianic date. Statements abound in the literature such as,
“[The external evidence] almost unanimously assigns [Revelation] to the last
years of Domitian,”[83] and,
“[E]arly Christian tradition is almost unanimous in
assigning the Apocalypse to the last years of Domitian,”[84] and,
“[U]ndoubtedly a strong argument in favor of a Domitianic date is the fact that the earliest and the
weightiest external witnesses attest it.”[85] However, in current studies this claim is
coming under regular fire, and perhaps for good reason. When we consider the actual evidence in the
fathers, the picture is not as clear as some have led us to believe, as we
shall see below.[86]
Irenaeus (A.D. 103–202) was certainly one of the most distinguished figures in the opening centuries of Christianity. Thus, his testimony has been highly regarded in a number of matters, not the least of which is the date of the Apocalypse. The understanding that Irenaeus dates the book to the end of the first century has in and of itself been enough evidence for many scholars to hold firmly to a late date. J. P. M. Sweet, for instance, says, “The earlier date may be right, but the internal evidence is not sufficient to outweigh the firm tradition stemming from Irenaeus.”[87]
The quotation from Irenaeus that has become so important in the debate is generally translated as follows: “We will not, however, incur the risk of pronouncing positively as to the name of Antichrist; for if it were necessary that his name should be distinctly revealed in this present time, it would have been announced by him who beheld the apocalyptic vision. For that was seen no very long time since, but almost in our day, towards the end of Domitian’s reign.”[88]
This seems straightforward enough, but there are several
problems here. First of all, there is a
translational ambiguity. While our only
extant complete text of the work containing this passage is in Latin, Eusebius
preserves Irenaeus’ Greek.[89] In the Latin, the ambiguity is removed, the
scribe having made a decision on the matter, but the Greek deserves careful
consideration: eij deÉ e[dei ajnafandoÉn
ejn tw'/ nu'n kairw'/ khruvttesqai
tou[noma aujtou', di j ejkeivnou
a]n ejrrevqh tou' kaiÉ
thÉn
ajpokavluyin eJorakovto"
oujdeÉ
gaÉr
proÉ
pollou' crovnou eJwravqh, ajllaÉ scedoÉn ejpiÉ
th'" hJmetevra" geneav", proÉ" tw'/
tevlei th'" Dometianou' ajrch'".
The difficulty arises in Irenaeus’ statement, as translated above, “… that was seen …” The Greek text simply reads eJwravqh. The subject of the statement is simply subsumed in the verb, and there is therefore no grammatical indicator as to the referent; it could be the Apocalypse, or it could be John himself. In other words, the English could just as easily be, “… he was seen …”[90] While it might seem initially odd to refer to a person as being “seen,” Hort acknowledges that Irenaeus has a general tendency to use oJravw of persons more commonly than visions or things.[91] Moreover, the larger context speaks explicitly of “those who have seen John face to face” (ejkeivnwn tw'n kat j o[yin toÉn jIwavnnhn eJorakovtwn).[92] This translation may in fact fit better with the logic of the passage as well. Note the thematic analysis of Chase:
The logic of the sentences seems to me to require this
interpretation. The statement that the
vision was seen at the close of Domitian’s reign
supplies no reason why the mysterious numbers should have been expounded “by
him who saw the apocalypse,” had he judged such an exposition needful. If, on the other hand, we refer eJwravqh to
This all seems plausible enough, but there are some factors that weigh against it. For one thing, Irenaeus seems to claim elsewhere that John lived until the reign of Trajan,[94] and it is also to be noted that the Latin scribal choice opts for the other view.[95]
Thus, even some early date advocates such as Stuart and Robinson still take Irenaeus to mean the Apocalypse dates to the 90s.[96] It seems to me that the evidence is inconclusive.
Nevertheless, there remains another problem with the Irenaean witness. To what extent are we to take as trustworthy Irenaeus’ historical claims? Caird (no doubt overstating the case), remarks that, “… second-century traditions about the apostles are demonstrably unreliable.”[97] Whether or not this generalization is fair, in Irenaeus’ case there is legitimate reason for us to remain skeptical. In one place he portrays James the Apostle as the same person as the brother of the Lord,[98] and in another, he astonishingly informs us that Jesus lived to be between forty and fifty years old![99] Lapses like these have understandably led to assessments such as Guthrie’s caution that Irenaeus’ historical method is “uncritical,”[100] as well as Moffatt’s comment, “Irenaeus, of course, is no great authority by himself on matters chronological.”[101] Such being the case, should we really place the great confidence in this testimony that many scholars have?
It may seem excessive to dwell so thoroughly on this single witness, but it must be understood that for many scholars, this piece of evidence has been the linchpin of the late-date case. Moreover, it is pivotal that we recognize clearly the questionable quality of this witness for one crucial reason: the so-called “unanimity” of the fathers’ witness on the matter apparently stems entirely from the Irenaean source.
Now it should first be noted that the “unanimity” is
nothing of the sort. As we shall see,
there is much more diversity among the witnesses than is often admitted. But for now, suffice it to say that the
allegedly numerous “testimonies” to the Domitianic
date are in reality merely a chorus of voices echoing one testimony.
In sum, we have a historically questionable, grammatically
ambiguous single source that has become a “unanimity among the church fathers,”
and this evidence is serving for many as the decisive clue to the date. Furthermore, the fact is that there exists a
greater diversity than many realize in the external witnesses, and we will thus
explore these briefly.
The matter of the external testimony is only complicated by the fact that the fathers do not speak with one voice on the date of Revelation. Many favor an early date, while others may not support the late date as clearly as many have supposed. We will here consider a few of the most striking cases.
Clement of
On the other hand, Apollonius of Tyana (b. 4 B.C.) says Nero was “commonly called a Tyrant.”[110] Similarly, Lactantius (ca. A.D. 260–330) describes the persecutor whose reign led to the martyrdoms of Peter and Paul, recording that afterwards, “… the tyrant, bereaved of authority, and precipitated from the height of empire, suddenly disappeared.”[111] The assumption that the “tyrant” in Clement and Origen must clearly be Domitian is unwarranted.
Also pertinent to the question of whether Clement believed in a Domitianic composition of the Apocalypse is the following quote from his Miscellanies: “For the teaching of our Lord at His advent, beginning with Augustus and Tiberius, was completed in the middle of the times of Tiberius. And that of the apostles, embracing the ministry of Paul, ends with Nero.”[112] Unless Clement considers John’s Apocalypse to be outside of the teaching of the apostles, he seems to imply he believes the Scriptures were completed by the end of Nero’s reign.[113]
At the same time, Clement has historical problems of his own, such as his limiting of the ministry of Jesus to a single year.[114] Of course, any element of unreliability based upon an apparently uncareful handling of historical details does not positively serve either view of the date of the Apocalypse, it merely makes Clement’s testimony even less decisive.
In light of all of this, we must ask ourselves: can we really claim Clement of Alexandria as a clear witness to the late date of Revelation?
Origen’s quote in and of itself is quite ambiguous as well, and is even less helpful when we recognize he was a student of Clement’s tutelage, and may merely be following his master’s say on the matter, whether he himself knew the identity of the particular “King” or not.[115] Hort finds the absence of a specific name in both Clement and Origen to be perhaps telling, remarking that the “coincidence is curious.”[116] Some scholars are more suspicious than that.[117]
Thus, it seems quite presumptuous to lean too heavily on these two commonly touted sources.
Eusebius and Jerome. Another two witnesses that are claimed for the Domitianic position are Eusebius (ca. A.D. 260–340) and Jerome (A.D. 340–420), both of which are cited by Charles and Swete.[118] However, again, being later, they both reflect Irenaean tradition, explicitly so in Eusebius’ case.[119] Moreover, both witnesses seem to reflect conflicting tradition, elsewhere either implying that John was banished under Nero or approvingly reusing testimonies to such and then recasting them in another light.[120] This at least reveals competing traditions in their times.
The Shepherd of Hermas. One interesting, if somewhat inconclusive, source that might give light to Revelation’s date is The Shepherd of Hermas. The date of this work is difficult to establish. The external evidence (specifically the Muratorian Canon) certainly points toward a date of about A.D. 140–155, but the internal evidence may push the book much earlier,[121] and some scholars, such as Edmunson and Robinson, have argued for a date between 85–90.[122]
The relevance of this source is the fact that it bears strong indications of dependence on the Apocalypse in its contents. Charles gives a compelling case for this noting the following similarities:
Thus the Church, Vis. ii.4, is represented by a woman (cf. [Rev] 12:1 sqq.); the enemy of the Church by a beast (qhrivon), Vis. lv.6-10,
[Rev] 13: out of the mouth of the beasts proceed fiery locusts, Vis. iv. 1, 6,
[Rev] 9:3: whereas the foundation stones of the Heavenly Jerusalem bear the
names of the Twelve Apostles, [Rev] 21:14, and those who overcome are made
pillars in the spiritual temple, [Rev] 3:12, in Hermas
the apostles and other teachers of the Church form the stones of the heavenly
tower erected by the archangels, Vis. iii. 5.1. The
faithful in both are clothed in white and are given crowns to wear, [Rev]
Again, the date of Hermas is debatable. But if the early date is right, and if literary dependence upon Revelation is present (again, a common conclusion, but not certain), then these factors would press the writing of the Apocalypse into a period significantly earlier than Domitian’s reign.
The Muratorian Canon. Having just mentioned the Muratorian Canon (ca. A.D. 170), we should note that it happens to stand as an easily overlooked, yet very important witness to an early date. The key passage relevant to this question is the statement that “the blessed Apostle Paul, following the rule of his predecessor John, writes to no more than seven churches by name.”[124] Obviously the Johannine writing being referenced is the Apocalypse (addressed as it is to seven churches), and here it is implied to have been written before the completion of Paul’s writings. Whether or not the credibility of the report may be established, this is clearly a very early example of an early-date opinion for Revelation’s composition.
Tertullian. Tertullian’s (ca.
A.D. 160–220) relevance to the matter comes from his account of the martyrdoms
of Peter and Paul and the banishment of John.
In discussing their fates, he ties the three together as a unit,
implying they happened together, amidst the same persecution. He declares that
Victorinus. The fourth-century bishop Victorinus
(d. ca. A.D. 304) clearly held to a Domitianic date
for Revelation. There is an interesting
difficulty with his testimony, however, in the fact that he also tells us that
while on
Epiphanius. Upon first glance, Epiphanius (ca. A.D. 315–403) seems a curious voice in the debate, twice dating John’s banishment to the emperorship of Claudius.[129] However, Guthrie, Moffatt, Robinson, and Mounce all agree that Epiphanius, or at least his source (likely Hippolytus) is merely using Claudius as one of Nero’s other names.[130] Regardless, here exists another clear early-date testimony.
Unfortunately, Ephiphanius is also another example of inconsistent credibility in historical matters, in one place, for instance, making the unusual claim that Priscilla was a man![131] Therefore, this witness, too, must be taken with a grain of salt.
Other early date witnesses. There remain several other historical sources
worth noting that attest to a pre-70 date for Revelation. For example, the Syriac
History of John, the Son of Zebedee (6th c.) and both Syriac
versions of the Apocalypse (6th c., 7th c.) explicitly refer to John’s
banishment by Nero.[132] Arethas (A.D. 6th
c.? 9th c.?), furthermore, taught that the book was written before A.D. 70, and
understood it to be largely predictive of the Roman siege on
There is therefore certainly a very present competing tradition to the Domitianic date throughout the history of the church. Consequently, any claims to an alleged “unanimity” are grossly overstated. Furthermore, as has been said, the Domitianic witnesses are dependent upon Irenaeus’ single testimony, which is not without its own problems. The external witness, then, is far from conclusive for supporting a late date, and can even be cited in some cases as evidence for pre-70 composition.[134]
The second major proof for most who hold to a Domitianic date for the Apocalypse is the apparent theme of imperial persecution and the assumption that this portrayal fits better against the backdrop of Domitianic persecution of the church. This line of evidence is pivotal to the discussion for two reasons: first, it is most likely the case that this particular issue was the catalyst for the scholarly revolution regarding the date after the nineteenth century, and second, it is being recognized more and more that as far as Domitian being the second great persecutor of the Church, “There is extremely little evidence that such was actually the case.”[135] In fact, “Most modern commentators no longer accept a Domitianic persecution of Christians.”[136]
To develop these points, we will first briefly look at the role of J. B. Lightfoot in the history of views among commentators. This will show the importance of these issues and the influences that went into a belief in a Domitianic persecution among twentieth-century writers. This will be followed with an examination of the Domitianic persecution evidence itself, as well as the related issue of the imperial cult.
After many decades of agreement among New Testament
scholars that the Apocalypse was a pre-70 document, the twentieth century
dawned and brought with it very quickly three excellently crafted critical
commentaries that would set the tone for Revelation studies for many years to
come, namely those by Charles, Swete, and Beckwith.[137] As
Part of the answer (in combination with reliance upon the Irenaean tradition) is a strong emphasis in all three works on the social/historical context of the book, specifically with reference to the major theme of persecution. Sensing that the book has been written against the backdrop of heavy-handed recent persecution, all three commentators found the reign of Domitian to be the most suitable Sitz im Leben for its apocalyptic cry, and this line of argument plays strongly into each of their respective cases for a later date.[139] It would seem that what historians had come to know of this heinous Caesar had finally tipped the scales in the argument.[140] Of course, once these key commentaries had set the stage, the majority view quickly followed suit.
The important anomaly in this development, however, is the
basis upon which these three commentaries argue for this profound persecution
by Domitian.
When perused for validation of this historical reconstruction, in all
three cases we find invariably that their basic justification of the position
is explicitly the influence of nineteenth-century New Testament authority J. B.
Lightfoot.
All three contend that Revelation was written with a historical background of recent persecution of the Christian Church by the Roman authorities. Each points to the persecution under Domitian. All three use Lightfoot’s work as their basis. They accept Lightfoot’s work and refer to it without criticism and without making any significant critical inquiry of their own into the validity of the claims of a Domitianic persecution. Charles merely states in a footnote, “On the persecution under Domitian, see Lightfoot, Clem. Rom. 1.1.104–115.” Swete simply notes, “Lightfoot has collected a catena of passages which justify the belief that Domitian was the second great persecutor.” Beckwith writes, “The general testimony of early Christian writers leaves no reasonable question that [Domitian’s] reign became a time of special suffering for the Christians, though details of his measures are for the most part wanting.” At this point Beckwith has a footnote referring to the appropriate pages in Lightfoot.[141]
Ironically, despite Lightfoot’s influence upon these commentators toward a late date view, Lightfoot himself, as mentioned above, held to a pre-70 date. Nevertheless, his arguments for the persecution of Domitian had a significant impact on these revolutionary commentaries, and it is therefore important to consider his case. If it is found to be unconvincing, of course, this does not in and of itself end the question, since it is merely one scholar’s argument. But it must be remembered that the apparent dependence in subsequent authors upon Lightfoot for this point creates a scenario somewhat akin to the former situation involving the Irenaean tradition. What appears to be a strong consensus may upon closer scrutiny be the mere repetition of a singular voice.
The evidence for a Domitianic persecution is largely limited to that which Lightfoot himself expounded, so we may justly focus on his form of the argument, especially in light of its role in future influence. To be sure, later Christian writers after Eusebius claim the historicity of such a persecution, but whether their claim has any real veracity or is merely the corollary of a Domitianic Apocalypse date must be weighed in light of the actual historical record. This, we shall see, even in Lightfoot, is greatly lacking.
The main evidence supplied by Lightfoot stems from the account of the death of Flavius Clemens and his wife Domitilla’s exile. Dio Cassius tells us their fates were related to the charge of “atheism,” which he further connects with Jewish practices.[142] Lightfoot surmises this must have meant Christianity, and refers to Flavius Clemens as a “Christian martyr.”[143] Notably, a century earlier, Suetonius had recorded the same incident with no reference to Judaism, simply attributing the event to “some trivial pretext.”[144]
Next, seemingly sealing Lightfoot’s argumentation, we learn that a cemetery owned by Domitilla was excavated that contained Christian symbols. However, it has now been shown that none of the remnants of Christianity can be dated before the middle of the second century.[145]
If this evidence were not dubious enough, the account from
Dio Cassius only survives in the eleventh-century
epitome of Xiphilinus and Zonarus’
twelfth-century summary.[146] And regardless, we are still left to suppose
that Dio Cassius, writing in the third century, would
not know to distinguish between Christians and Jews. Both
In a fascinating move, Lightfoot goes on to speculate, admitting it to be a mere conjecture, that Clement of Rome grew up in Flavius Clemens’ household and received his name. Thus, he finds what he considers to be a likely evidence for Christian heritage in this “family,” reinforcing his hypothesis that Flavius’ “martyrdom” under Domitian was for his Christian faith.[148]
In addition to this major point, Lightfoot gives several pages of texts entitled “Notices of the Persecution under Domitian and of the Family of Flavius Clemens.”[149] These “notices” are all either post-Eusebius or exceedingly oblique, consisting in one case, for example, of nothing more than the claim that both Nero and Domitian misrepresented Christians.[150] Yet, despite these weaknesses, the early twentieth-century commentaries took these arguments for a Domitianic persecution very seriously, and combined with the statement of Irenaeus, the late-date position was firmly established, and the shift was underway.
However, most New Testament scholars are now quite aware of the problem. By the late 1900s, confidence in the existence of a Domitianic persecution was on its last leg. Having reexamined the historical record more closely, few were willing to hold such a position any longer. Collins, a staunch late-date advocate, confidently remarks, “There seems, therefore, to be no reliable evidence which supports the theory that Domitian persecuted Christians as Christians.”[151] Similarly, Sweet declares, “The evidence that [Domitian] persecuted the church, as opposed to a few individuals who may or may not have been Christians, dissolves on inspection.”[152] And again, “Most modern commentators no longer accept a Domitianic persecution of Christians.”[153]
The Neronic persecution of the
60s, on the other hand, is no matter of debate.
It is a matter of historical infamy, and should surely, in
One closely related issue to that of Domitianic persecution is the question of whether or not the perceivable presence of emperor worship in the Apocalypse can be anchored to any escalation of such under the Domitian regime. Suffice it to say the evidence for increased demand from the emperor for self-deification fares no better than the evidence for Christian persecution.
The main line of argument used for the claim of a greater imposition of the imperial cult is that we know of an epigram that applies the term Dominus et Deus Noster to Domitian. However, we have no evidence that there was any pressure for such deification from the top down, and it may in fact be the case that Domitian actually discouraged divine forms of address.[156] At the very least, most agree that the imperial cult in the 90s was not being advanced in any new or unprecedented manner,[157] and certainly not to the degree it had been under Augustus, Caligula, or Nero.[158] Thus, the issue of emperor worship is much like the related problem of persecution. Domitian’s reign simply does not show evidence that either of these practices was unusually rampant to any extent that would lead us to consider his era the prime candidate for the fueling of Revelation, and this is even less tenable vis-à-vis the legendary rule of Nero.
Looking at the internal evidence concerning the date of the Book of Revelation, we find several key factors that seem to point to a pre-70 setting. These were in fact the primary reasons that nineteenth-century scholarship advocated an early date. However, there is some internal evidence that has been advanced on behalf of a late date, and this is worth examining as well. We will consider the latter first, especially regarding the condition of the seven churches addressed in the letters. Perhaps more helpful, however, are the issues that follow, namely the identity of the “sixth king” in chapter 17 and the presence of the temple in chapter 11.
Some have argued that the descriptions of the churches to
which John writes do not fit a setting in the 60s and necessarily call for a
much later context. There are basically
three evidences that are cited in this vein.
The first is that not enough time has elapsed since the churches’
establishment for such complacency and sin to have set in.[159] This, of course, is a very subjective
argument. How long does backsliding
take? On this basis, do we need to
reconsider the date of Galatians? What
about
A more manageable point is raised by some concerning the
establishment of the church at
One final argument that has been advanced from the letters is that the Laodicean church is addressed as a location of affluence, which may be difficult to harmonize with the fact that Laodicea was almost completely decimated by a well-known earthquake around 60–61.[163] However, we know from Tacitus that the city took great pride in the fact that it rebuilt itself quite promptly, without even requiring outside funds from the empire.[164] Thus, this argument does not carry very much weight either, and even late-date advocates such as Collins can concede, “This bit of evidence is of no help in dating the book.”[165]
None of these lines of evidence seem to really lead anywhere. The letters to the churches must be concluded to be of little or no value for establishing a late date of the book. The following internal issues, however, may be more useful to the discussion.
In chapter seventeen of Revelation, we are told there are “seven kings” (basilei'" eJptav), and while “five have fallen” (oiJ pevnte e[pesan), “one is” (oJ ei|" e[stin).[166] This passage has been the subject of much debate. The kings are generally agreed to be Roman emperors, but which seven are in view is a more difficult question. Some writers, struggling to come up with a list that fits their scheme, have preferred to simply consider the list symbolic of pagan world power, not linking the individual kings with any specific emperors.[167] This could possibly correct; like the idealist view of the book overall there is nothing to absolutely rule out such a non-specific handling of the text, but many feel this view does not go far enough for the level of detail and style of description given by John.[168] This difficulty is highlighted by the Jewish parallels of the period such as Sib. Or. 5:1–50 and 2 Esdras 11–12, which use similar head/king imagery in contexts which are plainly intending specific emperor lists.[169]
The interpretation that seems most tenable is simply to understand the Caesars to be paraded before us in order in this passage. This has been the most common way to attempt to interpret the passage, but many commentators have struggled to find a list that works. There are two basic issues here. First of all, where do we start counting? Julius was the first Caesar, and appears at the front of the list in several ancient sources.[170] However, the empire officially starts with Augustus, and thus some writers begin the list with him.[171] Collins has even suggested beginning with Caligula because he was the beginning of the “beastly” Caesars that gave the Jews such difficulty,[172] though few have found this scenario persuasive.
Even so, once the beginning point is established, a second problem arises as to whether or not we should include Galba, Otho, and Vitellius due to the brief and rebellious nature of their reigns in between Nero and Vespasian. Swete and others prefer to skip them as inconsequential.[173] Obviously, this would shake up the list substantially.
On the matter of where to start, both Julius and Augustus seem viable. The Caligula theory has not won many followers, and being combined as it is in Collins with the omission of the three short-term emperors, it seems perhaps too conveniently structured toward the preservation of an intact backward count from Domitian as the sixth.[174] Moreover, “[P]roposals offering reasons for the exclusion of the three brief reigns have not been persuasive to many.”[175] All of the ancient lists include them.[176]
Starting, however, with either Julius or Augustus, the sixth king who “is” at the time of writing is naturally either Nero or Galba, respectively. Either of these cases would imply a setting in the 60s. Even Beckwith concedes, “It requires then a certain degree of arbitrariness to avoid making the sixth king either Nero or Galba.”[177] It may be that how one handles the infamous Nero redivivus myth[178] at this point with reference to the mortally wounded head in the passage decides which of these two is more likely, but for now we may simply say that this most plausible reading of the text has led many to consider this section to bear clear marks of pre-70 composition.[179] Even many late-date advocates concede this, even to the point of taking a source-critical approach to explain it as the inclusion of early material by a Domitian-era editor.[180] The employment of such a technique in the debate hints at the fact that we have here a very difficult piece of evidence, one which may point quite strongly to an early date for Revelation.
An issue that has for some been determinative of the date is the presence of the temple in 11:1–2. In fact, this argument was the most persuasive issue to most early-date scholars of the nineteenth century.[181] For them, it seemed unthinkable that such a passage could be written after the leveling of the temple in A.D. 70 without any mention of the event. It certainly does seem that at the time of writing the Herodian temple is still standing. In fact, most late-date scholars even admit these verses must have been written before 70.[182]
How then do these scholars continue to hold to Domitianic composition of the book? There are basically two answers here. The primary response has been, once again, to resort to source criticism. Collins goes so far as to attribute the downfall of the early date to the rise of source-critical methods, which gave many scholars a way out, so to speak, of this compelling argument.[183] The retort therefore has been to concede the pre-70 writing of 11:1–2, but to then speculate that these verses are simply being incorporated by the Domitian-era author from earlier material. It seems difficult, however, to account for the inclusion of such obsolete material without any updating. This is what Robinson chides as the “resort of commentators to treating anything that will not fit a Domitianic date as the incorporation of earlier material, though (for reasons they do not explain) without subsequent modification.”[184] Seams from such use of a source are not visible, and of course if one holds to the unity of the book as a whole, the pull of this evidence is especially difficult to escape.
Another way to respond to this argument has been to treat
these verses as merely symbolic, depicting an ideal temple, not the actual Herodian building.[185] This seems unlikely however for a couple of
reasons. First of all the seer is quite
explicit in the book when dealing with heavenly versus earthly realities
involving
Second, all of this seems to be in contrast with the
temple described in 11:1–2, which is to be trampled by Gentiles, and is clearly
located in the city of
One could possibly relate the whole passage to a future,
rebuilt temple, but in the context its presence is merely presupposed. Without any informing of a future rebuilding
in the text, the author, writing so soon after the Jewish War in a late date
paradigm, would have surely confounded his readers. In Gentry’s words, “Where is there any
reference to the rebuilding of the
While these approaches to the problem are certainly not impossible, they all involve some degree of conjecture for the sake of maintaining late composition, and the most plausible explanation remains that John is speaking of the integrity of the temple in his own day. And if this is the case (and if we find the source-critical pleas unconvincing), then we have a very important piece of evidence pointing to a pre-70 date for Revelation, just as former scholars once widely recognized.
In light of all the evidence, it seems incredible that so many consider the issue so decisively weighted in favor of Domitianic timing. The two key arguments for this view that are consistently noted by its advocates are the testimony of the church fathers and the grim background of Domitian’s reign. The first of the two, as we have seen, is not the “unanimity” that it is often purported to be, but rather a façade. In reality, it all boils down to the testimony of Irenaeus, which is grammatically ambiguous, and even if translated in the traditional manner remains the word of one writer, and a historically questionable writer at that. Would we really turn the whole matter on the witness of a single voice, let alone a voice that tells us that Jesus lived into his forties? Moreover, as we have also observed, there are many more historical sources that attest to an early date than are usually admitted.
The second argument, that the setting of Domitian’s great persecution of the Church is a more likely context for the writing of the Apocalypse, cannot be defended. In recent decades the academic community has basically discarded the notion of a Domitianic persecution as a myth, and rightly so. The evidence is simply not there, and therefore this argument too is forceless.
On the other hand, certain internal factors we have noted
strongly imply a pre-70 date for Revelation, especially the identity of the
sixth king who “is” at the time of writing, which can most plausibly be
understood as either Nero or Galba, and the present
integrity of the temple in
But the case for a late date of Revelation is a
three-legged stool. While the first two
legs are seriously compromised by the actual evidence, we must now consider the
third argument, which we have saved due to its relevance to this thesis. This is the question of the identity of the
harlot,
For our purposes, it is sufficient to say that the early
date is still very much an option; the late date argument cannot be used to
preempt the view that
The case for identifying
The first step in examining the Jerusalem case, if we are
to have a fair hearing of the evidence, is to consider the main objections that
are offered by opponents to the this view.
Of course, the most common is the contention that the Apocalypse was
written after A.D. 70 and could therefore not be concerned with a prophecy of
the fall of
One of the chief reasons many have
contended that
Beale takes the argument a step further, noting that there
is no example in Jewish literature of the use of the name
Beale also points out that
On the other hand, now that
There is a further point to be made here regarding the
purpose of the
Whether or not these ideas may be decisively established, it does seem fair to say in light of these issues that the Jewish usage of the name Babylon for Rome, while perhaps worth considering as a useful piece of evidence in favor of the Rome view, does not preclude usage by John with reference to Jerusalem; the task remains for us to consider the corroborating evidence as to which referent is more likely in this context.
A second difficulty with the Jerusalem view for some is
the lofty language used by the author of Revelation to describe the city of
Babylon, especially in 17:18 which reveals the identity of the harlot as “the
great city which has dominion over the kings of the earth” (hJ povli" hJ megavlh hJ e[cousa
basileivan ejpiÉ tw'n basilevwn th'" gh'"). Most
commentators make a very natural move in jumping to
In order to deal with this objection, we must look at the
two composite parts of this phrase individually in the light of their literary
background within the context of Revelation.
The first part, the title “the great city” seems at first glance an odd
name to apply to
The second part of the title, “which has dominion over the
kings of the earth,” appears to be more difficult. Again, from a sheer political standpoint,
this seems to be fairly straightforward.
Certainly, this is one of the more problematic issues for
the
In fact, we may have a good indicator within the text of
the Apocalypse itself that this type of thinking lies behind the phraseology of
Once again, there seem to be valid arguments on either
side. The point to be made here is
simply that there is enough credible evidence for the
Advocates of the Rome view have regularly argued that
strong, if not conclusive support for their interpretation can be found in Rev
17:9 which describes the “seven hills/mountains” (eJptaÉ o[rh) on which the woman sits. It is beyond dispute that
One hindrance to an assured link here is the question of
how widespread this terminology for
It could be added, as Beale observes, that every other occurrence of o[ra in Revelation refers to a mountain, not a “hill,” and this may caution us further against viewing 17:9 as a reference to the “hills” of Rome.[217] Certainly, the term can go either way lexically, but within the context of this book, a departure from the “mountain” image evoked elsewhere would be unexpected, and should probably be avoided in our translation if possible. A more likely connection is the association of mountains with the symbolism of power and kings/kingdoms that is to be found in the Old Testament and other Jewish works.[218] “Seven,” of course, is often symbolic of completion or perfection, and thus it may be that the seven mountains are best understood from a Jewish mindset as a symbol of completeness of authority, or fullness of royal power.[219] Still, in harmony with this imagery there is background material to be considered here that may very well give us insight into which royal power we are dealing with.
As a number of scholars have recognized, the pseudepigraphal book of 1 Enoch bears numerous striking affinities with the Apocalypse of John; several are even persuaded of literary dependence of portions of the Apocalypse upon Enoch.[220] Others are more cautious; Bauckham for instance feels we may not have enough evidence to conclusively identify literary dependence on such a work, though the parallels that must be acknowledged at least give clear testimony to traditional imagery that was already prevalent in Jewish culture prior to Revelation.[221]
The significance of 1
Enoch for our study is that certain passages paint images that are
intriguingly similar to Rev 17:9. In 1 Enoch 24–25,[222] the
writer describes his journey to a certain place on earth where he encounters a
great mountain. This great mountain, as
the angel Michael explains, is the location of “the throne of God … on which
the Holy and Great Lord of Glory, the Eternal King, will sit when he descends
to visit the earth with goodness.”[223] Furthermore, this place is associated with
God’s end-time city-paradise where the elect will find the “fragrant tree” (v.
4) that will give them “fruit for life” (v. 5) in the eschaton,
and this tree will be planted “upon the holy place” (v. 5). Clearly, in some sense
What is not mentioned in these discussions is that the passage also says this great mountain is seated among “seven dignified mountains” (24:2). These “seven mountains” (v. 3) are elaborately described as to their appearance and formation in 24:2–3, and the central, taller mountain of the seven is then revealed as the place of God’s earthly rule (25:3–6).[225]
In surveying the major commentaries, I have been surprised
to find no mention of this passage in
connection with Rev 17:9, though it is repeatedly cited as background for the
New Jerusalem.[226] If this passage of Enoch bears such close resemblance to the Apocalypse, how is it that
an apparent reference to
Based on this evidence, I do not find the “city on seven
hills” argument for
It has been argued by some that the element of idolatry in
Rev 17–18 strongly militates against the possibility that
However, we may be missing John’s point if we assume that
only literal idols can be the issue in a book full of symbolic polemic. There is in fact very good reason to suppose
otherwise when we consider the connotations of idolatry in the book, especially
in the letters. There is much to be said
here, but for now I would simply note that certain parallels set forth in
earlier sections of Revelation strongly imply that the idolatry with which John
is concerned is related to the “paganism” of Jewish rejection of Christ and
aggravation and persecution of the saints in collaboration with Roman
authority. This will be elaborated at
some length below under “False Jews and Idolatry,” and if the connection is
defensible, the idolatry question should not be seen as an obstacle to the
One final objection commonly leveled against the
Moreover, the especially striking thing about Provan’s article is that in considering the actual contents
of the text from this perspective, he finds certain details to have been
altered from the original Old Testament source material that is being
reapplied. These alterations, he argues,
all amend the lament song for
If Provan is accurately grasping
John’s use of the Old Testament here, then something that has been seen as an
obstacle to the
It is hoped at this point that at the least a fair case
has been made that these more difficult elements of the discussion can be made
to fit with the view being proposed by this thesis with a reasonable amount of
exegetical credibility. Given thoughtful
investigation, none of the objections raised decisively precludes
One of the simplest, yet strongest clues that Jerusalem is
to be understood as the harlot of Babylon is that John seems to give the answer
away directly to the observant reader in a couple of key places in
Revelation. At the end of chapter 17,
the interpreting angel tells John the identity of the adulterous woman
explicitly: “The woman whom you saw is the
great city which has dominion over the kings of the earth” (hJ gunhÉ h}n ei\de"
e[stin hJ povli" hJ megavlh hJ e[cousa
basileivan ejpiÉ tw'n basilevwn th'" gh'"). This
phrase “the great city” seems to be set forth with the assumption that the
reader knows what city that would be, and the phrase is tossed around several
more times in this passage.[237] Moreover, the phrase appears to be used quite
exclusively in the book of Revelation.
Outside of this passage, in which it occurs many times, all of which
clearly refer to
First, it is all but indisputable that “the great city” as
identified here is
Secondly, the writer also sets a precedent for using
metaphorical names for
A similar occurrence of the phrase “the great city” is
found in
In addition, this interpretation can be further validated
by the Old Testament background of the city’s fate in this passage. As several commentators have recognized, the
splitting of the city into three parts seems to echo Ezek 5:1–5 in which God has the prophet divide his
hair into three parts as a depiction of coming judgment upon a city,
specifically, the desolation of
One other similar phenomenon occurs in chapter 14, in which
“the winepress was trodden outside the city” (ejpathvqh
hJ lhnoÉ" e[xwqen
th'" povlew"
[
When we examine chapters 17–18, one striking feature of the image of the harlot we see
emphasized is her adornment. She is
arrayed in “purple and scarlet, and adorned with gold and precious stones and
pearls” (porfurou'n kaiÉ kovkkinon kaiÉ
kecruswmevnh crusivw/ kaiÉ
livqw/ timivw/ kaiÉ
margarivtai" [17:4;
One of the most important issues in this discussion is the
meaning of harlotry in prophetic literature.
The woman in Rev 17 and 18 is depicted as “the great harlot … with whom
the kings of the earth have committed fornication” (th'"
povrnh" th'" megavlh"
. . . meq j h|" ejpovrneusan oiJ basilei'" th'" gh'" [17:1–2]),
“the mother of harlots” (hJ mhvthr tw'n
pornw'n [17:5]), and related images. Her fornications are the reason for her
judgment (ch. 18).
This theme cannot be overemphasized.
In the Old Testament prophets, the imagery of a people or city
committing adultery, or being labeled a harlot, is consistently a reference to covenant unfaithfulness.[248] A multitude of passages in various prophetic
books use the harlotry theme to condemn
The point here is too consistent to be overlooked: one
cannot commit adultery against God if one is not married to God. It is difficult to conceive of any city other
than
Lastly, on this point, it is worth noting that the call
for the harlot to be repaid “double according to her deeds” (taÉ dipla' kataÉ taÉ
e[rga aujth'"
[18:6]) is used in the Old Testament only
against God’s people,
“And upon her forehead a name was written a name, a mystery,
‘
On the other hand, it is commonly claimed that the
forehead writing here is to be associated with the Greco-Roman culture of the
day, in which prostitutes are said to have worn headbands with their names on
them.[260] However, the evidence for this practice is
less than scanty, and several scholars are now questioning its occurrence
altogether.[261] Nevertheless, even if this custom could be
tied to history, should it really be considered a more likely background for
the imagery than the Old Testament precedent of Jer 3:3? This Old Testament source is especially
significant in light of the fact that, in the succinct words of Beagley, “Jeremiah soon afterwards warns faithless
In the Old Testament passages regarding harlotry, often
idolatry is a large part of the “spiritual adultery,” and this seems to belong
to the images of compromise with the nations and being involved with “unclean
things” and “abominations” in Rev 17 and 18 as well.[263] As we discussed before, some have therefore
objected to the
For several reasons, “idolatry” as a concept should perhaps not be too concretely limited in this context. Chapters 2–3 in fact may give us something of a hint of the kind of “idolatry” that is plaguing many of the churches of John’s day. The letters to the seven churches are often noted for their literary crafting, which probably reflects quite a bit of subtle theological design, rather than merely epistolary form and content.
For instance, it is likely that the letters serve to introduce many of the themes of the book, and they also clearly form a chiastic pattern.[265] Moreover, it has been argued that the individual letters follow the so-called “covenant” form of ancient Near Eastern treaties, much like the Book of Deuteronomy.[266] These features are mentioned here simply to highlight the point that we ought not be surprised to find theological motifs being hinted at in these passages, both structurally and symbolically. There is, in other words, legitimate reason to not view these letters as mere letters.
The significance of this observation for the present discussion is that the theme of idolatry is certainly very important in the seven letters,[267] and we may find subtle hints in this section of John’s connotations for the concept. Specifically, there are parallels between the heresies condemned in the letters that have been regularly recognized by commentators, parallels, in fact, that are so close that these heresies are generally considered to be the same idolatrous teaching under different names, at least in the cases of the Nicolaitans, the Balaamites, and Jezebel.[268] Moreover, it is instantly recognizable that the latter two echo names of Old Testament figures, and should therefore automatically strike a chord with us that there is perhaps some form of intentional symbolism being implied. As far as the Nicolaitans, few commentators have been able to find a satisfactory connection as to the identity of these aggravators.[269] However it is often noted that part of the reason the Nicolaitans and the Balaamites should be so closely identified is the similar etymology of their names, which is related to one who “overcomes/consumes the people.”[270] It may be that the name of the Nicolaitans is based on a Greek translation of Balaam’s name. Regardless of whether that oversimplifies the matter, the semantic connection here that parallels with the heretical connection gives further justification for supposing we may be dealing with the same problematic teaching, which is then recapitulated in Jezebel.
Moreover, the two Old Testament characters utilized here happen to be a false prophet and a harlot, two roles that will be played by villainous figures in later chapters of the Apocalypse.[271] If valid, this connection seems fairly significant, in that it may mean the letters are subtly introducing the themes that will later be developed in the rest of the book, and this type of structuring and theological insinuation would certainly not be out of character with the multi-layered literary sophistication we find pervading the book. [272]
There is, however, one other key worker of evil in the
Apocalypse, the driving force behind the entire iniquitous drama—the Serpent,
Satan himself. In perfect harmony with
the pattern above, Satan too is revealed in the letters, especially in the
letter to
Naturally, the “paganism” of which these false Jews are
guilty cannot be separated from interaction with
Furthermore, the
As we have discussed above, certain elements of chapter 18
are often seen as troublesome for a
For this reason I am quite indebted at this point to the
work of Old Testament scholar Iain Provan, whose
article mentioned above, “Foul Spirits, Fornication and Finance: Revelation 18
From an Old Testament Perspective,” has been a welcome source of insights. For Provan, the
complex language of Rev 18 is not only not a hindrance to a
The general point that is relevant here is whether we
should look for historical reference for each detail of such a reapplication of
imagery, or whether the function of the imagery is more properly to provide an
echo of the form traditionally used when a city such as
However, the argument of Provan’s article is not merely that we ought not get caught up in the details of material that is being structurally appropriated for a rhetorical point. The issue that catches his eye is the fact that at many points, the author of Revelation does not leave the reapplied language in its original form, but instead subtly alters it. It is these fresh literary features, not the details imported from a previous context, that may be of most use to us for tracking with John’s thought. It is these areas in which he has not merely compared the present villain to previous ones, but has added original critique to the message, and has perhaps hinted at the identity of his antagonist.[281]
Examples of this phenomenon noted by Provan include the addition of chariots to Ezekiel’s cargo list (quite likely an import from the list of goods in 1 Kgs 4, which subtly reminds the Old Testament audience of Solomon’s disregarding of the former command not to widely accrue horses and chariots in Deut 17:16),[282] the language of the “clinging” of the harlot’s sins (the term kollavw, having LXX covenant language connotations, being added to a Babylon oracle [v. 5]),[283] the use of an Old Testament oracle against Judah and Jerusalem in verses 23–24 in the middle of borrowed Tyre lament language,[284] the double recompense (in the Old Testament, only ever used against Israel) warning of verse 2 in the middle of Babylon allusions, and a number of echoes of passages from Lamentations reflecting on Jerusalem’s fall.[285]
The point of this sampling is simply to show that it is
quite plausible that what the author is doing here is adapting an Old Testament
lament song for his own purposes by invoking
As we have said before, we do not necessarily have to find
any previous instance of
In the Olivet Discourse, Christ prophetically warns of
Beagley likewise sees this motif
underlying the discourse, and approvingly notes van der
Waal’s suggestion that Christ is specifically
applying Jer 51:45 (concerning Babylon) to Jerusalem.[288] The scenario we may have on the
If such a reconstruction is valid, we must take seriously
the impact this event would have had on John’s thinking.[291] If this interpretation is correct, then John
would not be inventing the “
It seems, then, that a very plausible scenario can be
constructed out of which John would have likely produced the depiction of
One of the most important themes in Revelation that seems
to have been drawn from Jesus’ prophetic warnings in the gospels is that “in
her [
While
Another point that should not be overlooked is how well
If, however,
The portrayal of the harlot’s desolation is sketched according
to the outlines of the prophecy of apostate
Note the consistency of the application of this language
to apostate
Milligan solemnly elaborates:
[I]t is difficult not to think that there was one great drama
present to the mind of the Seer and suggestive of the picture of the harlot’s
ruin, that of the life and death of Jesus.
The degenerate Jewish Church had then called in the assistance of the
world-power of
Finally, a consideration of a general theme of the
Apocalypse may serve to bookend the evidence on this matter quite neatly,
particularly that of the contrast between
As we have already noted,
This, then, is the bulk of the evidence for the
Having now examined the particulars of the evidence for
As we have seen, there are a number of competing theories
as to the identification of
The thesis of this study is that the proposal that
Objections have been raised to this interpretation, the chief of which is the date of Revelation. However, as we have seen, the arguments for the late date of
Revelation from the church fathers and Domitianic
persecution are open to serious critique, and the argument from the late usage
of the “
The secondary objections such as the difficulties of the
exalted language given to
In response to this question, we must consider the
paradigm that emerges from the evidence as an amalgamated whole. In this regard, the scenario we have
constructed looks something like this: John, perhaps influenced by Jesus’ reuse
of Old Testament anti-Babylon prophecies in the Olivet Discourse against
John then portrays her as being violently desolated by
When examined in its totality, the evidence seems quite
compelling. Other options may be possible or applicable, but it appears to me that
Moreover, this conclusion carries notable implications for
several issues. First and foremost is
the issue of the date. If this
identification of the harlot is accurate, we must take very seriously what
seems to be a strong piece of internal evidence that the events of A.D. 70 are
being prophesied, and thus are yet to come from John’s perspective. Would Irenaeus’
controversial quote really be weightier than this? Also, the general themes and theology of the
book may be worthy of reexamination. If
the destruction of
Certainly, a number of areas remain that merit further study. The reapplication of forms such as lament songs and the Babylonian connotations of the Olivet Discourse come to mind. And of course the date question awaits definitive resolution. Also, the phenomenon of recapitulation in prophetic fulfillment affects our conception of the scope of this passage, and is worth pursuing in more detail as part of the larger ongoing discussion over apocalyptic. Hopefully forthcoming contributions by more capable students of the book will elucidate some of these matters in the future.
Overall, I think the case for
[1] E.g., Luther and Calvin, neither of whom, despite their otherwise voluminous literary legacies, produced a commentary on the Apocalypse.
[2] That is, sufficiently narrow in the sense that we will hopefully not be biting off a larger portion than can adequately be addressed in a work of this size. The scope of this study will also be limited in that the research will be restricted to English sources only.
[3] E. g., John Reisinger, Abraham’s Four Seeds (Frederick, MD: New Covenant Media, 1998); Fred Zaspel and Tom Wells, New Covenant Theology: Description, Definition, Defense (Frederick, MD: New Covenant Media, 2001).
[4] Cf. D. A. Carson, Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount and His Confrontation with the World: An Exposition of Matthew 5–10 (Grand Rapids: Global Christian, 1999), 296–99.
[5] Cf. Douglas J. Moo, The Epistle to the Romans, The New International Commentary on the New Testament, ed. Gordon Fee (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996), 175, 697–710.
[6] Cf. Gordon Fee, God’s Empowering Presence: The Holy Spirit in the Letters of Paul (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994), 870–76.
[7] See especially N. T. Wright, The New Testament and the People of God, vol. 1, Christian Origins and the Question of God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992), chap. 10; G. B. Caird, The Language and Imagery of the Bible (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1980).
[8] For more comprehensive study, see D. E. Aune, T. J. Geddert, and C. A. Evans, “Apocalypticism,” in Dictionary of New Testament Background, ed. Craig A. Evans and Stanley E. Porter (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2000); John J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature, 2d ed., The Biblical Resource Series, ed. Astrid B. Beck and David Noel Freedman (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998); Leon Morris, Apocalyptic (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1972); D. S. Russell, Divine Disclosure: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992).
[9]
Cf. Matt 24:15; Mark
[10] For a helpful, concise discussion of these positions, see Steve Gregg, ed., Revelation: Four Views, A Parallel Commentary (Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1997), 2–3.
[11] “Although widely held by Protestant interpreters after the Reformation and into the twentieth century, no critical New Testament scholar today advocates this view” (M. Eugene Boring, Revelation, Interpretation, ed. James Luther Mays [Louisville, KY: John Knox, 1989], 49, [italics mine]).
[12] Edward Hickman, ed., The Works of Jonathan Edwards, vol. 2 (London: Billing & Sons, 1834), 807.
[13] Adam Clarke, Adam Clarke’s Commentary on the Bible, vol. 6 (New York: Abraham Paul, 1823), 617–23.
[14] E. B. Elliott, Horae Apocalypticae, 4th ed., vol. 4 (London: Seeleys, 1851), 24–46.
[15] Luther, Calvin, and Zwingli were all also historicists (cf. Steve Gregg, ed. Revelation: Four Views, A Parallel Commentary [Nashville,TN: Nelson, 1997], 34), though I have been unable to find their precise interpretation of this passage.
[16] This issue will be discussed more thoroughly in chapter four, as it is heavily pertinent to the argument for this thesis.
[17] So Elliott, Horae Apocalypticae, 30.
[18] Ibid., 31.
[19]
For more on this, see “
[20]
No doubt biblical prophecy can sometimes focus on far future events, but if
even the themes seem unusually disconnected with the homiletical/applicational
ends of the work, perhaps the lack of coherence is cause for skepticism of such
an interpretation. That is, a prophecy
of the future arrival of the Messiah, for example, would still be relevant to
an OT saint hoping for the eventual restoration of
On the other hand, it is admittedly possible that room could be made for this issue in a “multiple fulfillment” approach, in which an earlier fulfillment might meet the criteria for audience relevance, while the Catholic Church would remain as a more distant prophetic object. However, I know of no author that has proposed such a scheme, and moreover, this question would by definition step beyond the bounds of the present investigation, which, as stated in chapter one, aims at the referent intended by the human author for his immediate audience, if such exists.
[21] F. F. Bruce, Revelation, The International Bible Commentary, ed. F. F. Bruce, H. L. Ellison, and G. C. D. Howley (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1986), 1595.
[22] Merrill C. Tenney, “Revelation, Book of the,” in Zondervan Pictoral Encyclopedia of the Bible, ed. Merrill C. Tenney, vol. 5 (Grand Rapids: Zondervan 1975), 96 (italics mine).
[23]
It is worth noting that one such variation of this view is that the empire will
be linked with some sort of
[24] E.g., Robert L. Thomas, Revelation 8-22: An Exegetical Commentary (Chicago: Moody, 1995), 307; Charles H. Dyer, “The Identity of Babylon in Revelation 17–18,” Bibliotheca Sacra 144 (1987): 305–16, 433–49; also, J. A. Seiss, The Apocalypse: A Series of Special Lectures on the Revelation of Jesus Christ, 10th ed. (New York, NY: Cook, 1909), 397–400; G. H. Lang, The Revelation of Jesus Christ (London: Oliphants, 1945), 299–305.
[25] Cf. 2 Pet 3:16, which explicitly claims that Paul’s letters are “hard to understand” (δυσνόητά). The point here is simply that, contrary to some popular notions that interpretation should be done from a plain, surface-reading perspective because God would not make his word hard to understand, the scriptures themselves express that some portions are in fact hard to understand, and we cannot therefore assume that the “easy” path is the correct one; see also Grant R. Osborne, The Hermeneutical Spiral (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1991), 227–32; Craig A. Blaising and Darrell L. Bock, Progressive Dispensationalism (Wheaton, IL: Victor, 1993), chaps. 2–3; Wright, The New Testament and the People of God, chap. 10.
[26] See G. K. Beale, The Book of Revelation: A Commentary on the Greek Text, New International Greek Testament Commentary, ed. I. Howard Marshall and Donald A. Hagner (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), 858.
[27] Ibid., 859.
[28]
Leon Morris, The Revelation of
[29] The rendering of the term pneumatikw'" as “spiritually” is intentionally literal in translation for the sake of interpretive neutrality. Other translations, however, make the point more sharply, e.g., the NET Bible, which actually opts for “symbolically.”
[30] Thomas, Revelation, 289.
[31] These include Jer 28:39; 50:39–40; 51:24–6, 62–4; Isa 13:19–22.
[32]
Dyer, “Identity of
[33] Ibid, 446–49.
[34] For further discussion of the hermeneutical difficulties of this view, see Beale, Revelation, 829–30.
[35] The future Rome view only fares worse: in this case, this rebuilding idea would be even more of a stretch for the original hearers than for those of us who have the benefit of the subsequent historical record; since Rome was still standing and dominant, they would have to assume (again, without any word from John) both the idea that the empire was going to fall, and the idea that it would rise again, only to fall again!
It might be objected that we
have a similar phenomenon in the gap between the advents of Christ, unforseen
before the New Testament. But this is
precisely the issue. The New Testment
actually reveals a future coming of
Christ—it is not merely assumed. There
is no rebuilding of “
[36]
However, while he sees this as the ultimate reality of the image (William
Milligan, The Book of Revelation [New
York: Armstrong, 1903], 904), he considers the archetype present in John’s mind
to specifically be
[37] Beale, Revelation, 884; Sam Hamstra Jr., “An Idealist View of Revelation,” in Four Views on the Book of Revelation, ed. C. Marvin Pate (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1998), 117–18.
[38] Beale, Revelation, 884–85.
[39] David E. Aune, Revelation 17–22, Word Biblical Commentary, ed. Bruce M. Metzger et al., vol. 52c (Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1998), 959.
[40] Robert H. Mounce, The Book of Revelation, rev. ed., New International Commentary on the New Testament, ed. Gordon D. Fee (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), 308.
[41] Beale, Revelation, 886. Other works that take this view include R. H. Charles, The Revelation of St. John, vol. 2, International Critical Commentary, ed. S. R. Driver, A. Plummer, and C. A. Briggs (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1920), 75; Henry Barclay Swete, The Apocalypse of St. John, 3d ed. (London: Macmillan, 1911), 226; G. B. Caird, The Revelation of Saint John, Black’s New Testament Commentaries, ed. Henry Chadwick (London: Black, 1966), 213; Moses Stuart, A Commentary on the Apocalypse, vol. 2 (New York: Newman, 1845), 322.
[42] Cf. 4 Ezra 3:1–2, 28–31; 2 Apoc. Bar. 10:1–3; 11:1; 67:7; Sib. Or. 5.143.159–60.
[43] See discussion in Donald Guthrie, New Testament Introduction, rev. ed. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1990), 794.
[44]
Cf.
[45]
This was well-known nomenclature for
[46] Some commentators, so confident that this position has long been established as correct, simply assume it with little or no argumentation: e.g., Mounce: “The prostitute is Rome” (Revelation, 308); also, Aune: “While ‘the great city’ is applied to Jerusalem in 11:8, in Rev 17–18 the phrase ‘the great city’ refers clearly to Rome” (Revelation, 959, italics mine).
[47] The other primary option, the Jewish leadership, will of course become the focus of this thesis in chapter four.
[48] Cf. Rev 13; 17:3.
[49] Gregg, Revelation, 276.
[50]
The first three are usually understood as historical
[51] Cf. Dan 7:7, 25.
[52]
Which accounts for why she is sitting on the seven hills/mountains. These are associated with the seven heads,
which fits perfectly with the idea that the adulteress is riding on the back of
the beast, not identifiable with it (so J. Massyngberde Ford, Revelation, Anchor Bible, ed. William
Foxwell Albright and David Noel Freedman, vol. 38 [Garden City, NY: Doubleday,
1975], 280 [proposing that the relationship involves mutual favors between
local rulers and foreign powers]; David Chilton, The Days of Vengeance: An Exposition of the Book of Revelation [Tyler,
TX: Dominion, 1987], 436, n. 14).
However, note Beale’s caution that it may be better to take o[ro"
here in its normal sense in the Apocalypse, i.e., that of a mountain,
not a hill. From this view, the mountain
imagery represents strength, specifically that of kings/kingdoms (this being
common symbolism in the OT as well as other Jewish writings), and therefore we
are simply revisiting the “seven heads” idea (Beale, Revelation, 868). Either
way, it is far from necessary to conclude with Swete that, “No reasonable doubt
can be entertained as to the meaning of these words [considering that] the
[53] Beale, Revelation, 885–86; it should be noted, however, that Beale does want to recognize some connection of the book of Revelation with historical events, at least in so far as they are related to the ultimate establishing of Christ’s kingdom with the last judgment. For this reason he prefers to describe his position as a “redemptive-historical form of modified idealism,” or “eclecticism” (a far more manageable term) rather than simple “idealism” (p. 48).
[54] William Hendriksen, More Than Conquerors (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1944), 200–202.
[55] Hamstra, “An Idealist View of Revelation,” 117.
[56] While a satisfactory evaluation of the debate surrounding apocalyptic literature would presently take us too far afield, it should be understood that the perspective on apocalypticism discussed in chapter 1 (see chap. 1, n. 8 for sources providing further discussion) informs this point of the argument.
[57] N. T. Wright, The New Testament and the People of God, vol. 1, Christian Origins and the Question of God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992), 333.
[58] N. T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God, vol. 2, Christian Origins and the Question of God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996), 321–22, italics mine.
[59]
And many commentators do not adequately address it, even if they are aware of
it; cf. Mounce, Revelation, 308, who
gives it only a passing reference in a single footnote: “Ford tries to build a
case for
[60] Ford, Revelation, 54–59, 93, 259–307.
[61] J. Stuart Russell, The Parousia: A Critical Inquiry into the New Testament Doctrine of Our Lord's Second Coming (London: Unwin, 1887), 482–98.
[62] Milton S. Terry, Biblical Apocalyptics: A Study of the Most Notable Revelations of God and of Christ (New York: Eaton & Mains, 1898), 426–39.
[63] Chilton, Days of Vengeance, 421–66.
[64] Kenneth L. Gentry, “A Preterist View of Revelation,” in Four Views on the Book of Revelation, ed. C. Marvin Pate (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1998), 73–79.
[65] Who makes an interesting comment in a footnote in Jesus and the Victory of God (regarding what he perceives to be an underlying theme of the Olivet Discourse): “This conclusion [that Babylon’s ultimate fall as predicted by the prophets occurs in A.D. 70] may be held by some to carry implications for the reading of Rev 17–19, where some recent commentators have suggested that the great and wicked city is not Rome but Jerusalem. I have discovered that this suggestion arouses anger in some circles, which is not explained simply as annoyance at an exegetical peculiarity… . What is at stake here, and for whom?” (Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God, 358, n. 141). This, of course, may be a point of great importance: anti-Semitism is a charge quite frequently leveled in modern theological debate. It may in fact be that we have not yet begun to discern the extent to which New Testament studies have been impacted by nobly motivated biases left over from the aftermath of Auschwitz’ terrors. Could it be that some modern scholars are hesitant to advocate a view such as the one presented in this thesis because it inherently sounds disturbingly anti-Semitic?
Also, other representatives of the Babylon = Jerusalem view include A. J. Beagley, The ‘Sitz im Leben’ of the Apocalypse with Particular Reference to the Role of the Church’s Enemies (New York: de Gruyter, 1987), 93–102; Eugenio Corsini, The Apocalypse: The Perennial Revelation of Jesus Christ, trans. & ed. Francis J. Moloney (Wilmington, DE: Gazier, 1983), 313–30; Cornelius Vanderwaal, Search the Scriptures: Hebrews—Revelation, vol. 10 (St. Catherines, ON: Paideia, 1979), 79–111; Keith Mathison, Postmillennialism: An Eschatology of Hope (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 1999), 152–54; Iain Provan, “Foul Spirits, Fornication and Finance: Revelation 18 From an Old Testament Perspective,” Journal for the Study of the New Testament 64 (1996), 81–100; Philip Carrington, The Meaning of the Revelation (New York: Macmillan, 1931), book 6.
1 Note, for
example, the somewhat reactionary comments of D. A. Carson regarding David
Chilton’s preterist commentary on Revelation, The Days of Vengeance: “… Chilton ties his interpretation of the
entire book to a dogmatic insistence that it was written before A.D. 70, and
that its predictions are focused on the destruction of
[67] Iain Provan, “Foul Spirits, Fornication and Finance: Revelation 18 From an Old Testament Perspective,” Journal for the Study of the New Testament 64 (1996): 81–100; Eugenio Corsini, The Apocalypse: The Perennial Revelation of Jesus Christ, trans. Francis J. Moloney (Wilmington, DE: Gazier, 1983), 313–40.
[68] Adela Yarbro Collins, “Myth and History in the Book of Revelation: The Problem of Its Date,” in Traditions in Transformation: Turning Points in Biblical Faith, ed. Baruch Halpern and Jon D. Levenson (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1981), 388.
[69] Similarly, Gregg (compelled by Gentry’s arguments): “At the very least, the possibility of the early date keeps the preterist approach legitimately in the debate” (Steve Gregg, ed., Revelation: Four Views, A Parallel Commentary [Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1997], 18).
[70] D. B. Wallace, “John 5,2 and the Date of the Fourth Gospel,” Biblica 71 (1990): 177–205.
[71] Cf. Raymond E. Brown, The Gospel According to John I-XII, Anchor Bible, ed. William Foxwell Albright and David Noel Freedman, vol. 29 (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1966), xxiv–xl.
[72] See discussion in Henry Barclay Swete, The Apocalypse of St. John, 3d ed. (London: Macmillan, 1911), clxxvi.
[73] Though hesitantly: “The Apocalypse may be before A.D. 70” (C. F. D. Moule, The Birth of Christianity, 3d ed. [San Francisco, CA: Harper & Row, 1982], 174).
[74] J. A. Fitzmyer, Review of Redating the New Testament, by J. A. T. Robinson, Interpretation 32, no.3, (July 1978): 309–13.
[75] F. F. Bruce, New Testament History (New York: Doubleday, 1969), 411.
[76] E. Earle Ellis, The Making of the New Testament Documents, Biblical Interpretation Series, ed. R. Alan Culpepper and Rolf Rendtorff, vol. 39 (Leiden: Brill, 1999), 210–16.
[77] J. A. T. Robinson, Redating the New Testament (Philadelphia, PA: Westminster, 1976), 221–53.
[78] It is an interesting side note that while the discipline of New Testament studies has inclined toward a late date in the past century, modern classicists seem to continue to be persuaded of the earlier date position (See intriguing discussion by Robinson, Redating, 225).
[79] J. Christian Wilson, “The Problem of the Domitianic Date of Revelation,” New Testament Studies 39 (October 1993): 587.
[80] Robinson, Redating, 224. Robinson goes on to cite Peake regarding the “remarkable consensus of ‘both advanced and conservative scholars’ who backed it,” (ibid., 225) and even remarks wittily that, “It must have been one of the few things on which Baur and Lightfoot agreed!” (ibid., 225, n. 25)
[81] Ibid., 224.
[82] J. B. Lightfoot, Essays on the Work of Supernatural Religion (London: Macmillan, 1889), 132 (italics mine), citing the anonymous author of Supernatural Religion.
[83] R. H. Charles, The Revelation of St. John, vol. 1, International Critical Commentary, ed. S. R. Driver, A. Plummer, and C. A. Briggs (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1920), xci.
[84] Swete, Apocalypse, xcix.
[85] Donald Guthrie, New Testament Introduction, rev. ed. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1990), 956.
[86] For much of this section I am indebted to the detailed study on the matter in Kenneth L. Gentry, Before Jerusalem Fell, rev. ed. (Atlanta, GA: American Vision, 1998), 41–109, which provides the most comprehensive survey of the relevant historical sources I have found. In fact, I have found no pertinent testimony cited in the wider secondary literature that is not also examined in Gentry. This does not mean all of his arguments can be fully endorsed, but his work in this area is an invaluable guide for the subject.
[87]
J. P. M. Sweet, Revelation,
[88]
Irenaeus 5.30.3 (translation given is that of Alexander Roberts and James
Donaldson, ed., The Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 1 [
[89] Eusebius The Ecclesiastical History 3.18.3.
[90]
So Gentry, Before
[91]
F. J. A. Hort, The Apocalypse of
[92] Irenaeus Against Heresies 5.30.1. This is not to deny that the “apocalyptic vision” is also seen/beheld in the preceding line, but simply to point out the legitimate plausibility in this passage of John being the referent.
[93] S. H. Chase, “The Date of the Apocalypse,” Journal of Theological Studies 8 (1907):431.
[94] Irenaeus Against Heresies 2.22.5 and 3.3.4, although there may be some question as to whether John’s death and the time of his being “seen” in this context (i.e., available to the audience/Irenaeus to preach on the matter) would have been the same thing; in other words, these passages may not be contradictory on this interpretation at all anyway. It should also be added that there is perhaps another curious piece of evidence in his statements elsewhere worth noting. Eusebius records Irenaeus’ words regarding the number of the beast: “As these things are so, and this number is found in all the approved and ancient copies” (Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History, trans. C. F. Cruse [Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1998], 5:8:5–6). Gentry argues that this implies that to Irenaeus, the writing of the Apocalypse was more than “ancient,” in that many of the copies were to him “ancient,” even though he considers the end of Domitian’s reign “almost in our day.” “Ancient copies” suggests for Gentry at least two, if not more generations of scribal reproduction—i.e., some copies are earlier copies and some are more recent. If we allow time, then, for the Apocalypse to be written, circulated, and copied through multiple scribal cycles so that the earlier ones can be called “ancient,” we might well ask whether Irenaeus would write this way of a work composed less than a hundred years earlier. While far from conclusive, the question is certainly intriguing (see Gentry, Before Jerusalem Fell, 58–59).
However, the term translated here “ancient,” ajrcai'o" has a fairly wide semantic range, stretching from the meaning “[having] existed from the beginning” to merely “old,” or, “for a long time” (Walter Bauer, A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature, rev. and ed. Frederick William Danker, 3d ed. [Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000], s.v. “ajrcai'o"”, 137). In light of this lexical flexibility, it seems hasty to make as much of Irenaeus’ comments here as Gentry would like.
[95] Though we may want to be careful how much stock we place in this when we consider Schaff’s judgment that this extant translation employs “barbarous Latin.” (Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church, vol. 2 [New York: Scribner, 1889], 753) Similarly, Stuart refers to it as “a dead literality” (Moses Stuart, A Commentary on the Apocalypse, vol. 1 [New York: Newman, 1845], 119), and the translators of Irenaeus for the Ante-Nicene Fathers (Roberts and Donaldson) claim, “… the Latin version adds to these difficulties of the original, by being itself of the most barbarous character … Its author is unknown, but he was certainly little qualified for his task” (Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 1, 311–12).
[96] Stuart, Apocalypse, 1:263; Robinson, Redating, 221.
[97] G. B. Caird, The Revelation of Saint John, Black’s New Testament Commentary, ed. Henry Chadwick (London: Black, 1966), 4.
[98] Irenaeus Against Heresies 2.22.5.
[99] Ibid., 3.12.14.
[100] Guthrie, New Testament Introduction, 24.
[101] James Moffatt, “The Revelation of St. John the Divine,” in The Englishman’s Greek Testament, vol. 5, ed. W. Robertson Nicoll (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1910), 319.
[102] Albert A. Bell, Jr., “The Date of John’s Apocalypse: The Evidence of Some Roman Historians Reconsidered,” New Testament Studies 25 (October 1978): 93.
[103] Milton S. Terry, Biblical Hermeneutics (New York: Phillips & Hunt, 1883), 237.
[104] T. Randell, Revelation, The Pulpit Commentary, vol.22 (London: Funk & Wagnalls, 1909), iv.
[105] Adela Yarbro Collins, “Dating the Apocalypse of John,” Biblical Research 26 (1981): 33, 35.
[106] It could also be noted that this is very similar to the situation behind the persistent historical testimony to a Semitic language origin of the Gospel of Matthew, a tradition which has likely come down to us as a mere repetition among the church fathers of Irenaeus’ questionable interpretation of Papias (see Guthrie, New Testament Introduction, 44–48).
[107] Robert H. Mounce, The Book of Revelation, rev. ed., New International Commentary on the New Testament, ed. Gordon D. Fee (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), 16; Charles, Revelation 1:xciii; Swete, Apocalypse, xcix.
[108]
Clement of
[109] Origen, Commentary on Matthew 16.6.
[110] Philostratus, Life of Apollonius 4.38. Interestingly, this passage also repeatedly describes Nero as a great and wild “beast” (see Gentry, Before Jerusalem Fell, 70). It should also be noted that these quotations of course do not prove Nero is the tyrant in question for Clement or Origen, but they do show that evidence for which emperor would have been regarded as such by early writers is divided at best. “Tyrant” allusions cannot be assumed as referring to Domitian.
[111] Lactantius On the Death of the Persecutors 2.2 (translation given is that of William Fletcher in Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 7 [italics mine]).
[112]
Clement of
[113] Gentry further notes that Clement elsewhere recounts an incident after John’s release from exile in which he allegedly pursued a young apostate on horseback “with all his might” (Gentry, Before Jerusalem Fell, 83–84, with reference to Clement of Alexandria, Who is the Rich Man That Shall Be Saved 42), which might appear unusually vigorous for a man perhaps well into his nineties (in the late-date scenario). Granted, the historicity of the event may not be verifiable, but it is at least clear that Clement believed such. Therefore, for Gentry, harmonizing Clement’s thought at this point is much easier if he was thinking of release from a Neronic banishment. In fact some, such as Ratton, consider this strong evidence that Clement is “a firm believer in the Neronian date of the Book” (J. L. Ratton, The Apocalypse of St. John [London: Washbourne, 1912], 27).
However, this argument seems empty in light of a couple of factors. For one thing, John is described in terms of his advanced age throughout the passage. Moreover, his riding of a horse involves being led by another. This is probably not the striking curiosity Gentry wants it to be.
[114]
Clement of
[115]
So Gentry, Before
[116] Hort, Apocalypse, xv.
[117] See the comments of Stuart, Apocalypse, vol. 1, 272, which reach a crescendo with the claim, “We cannot well come to any conclusion here, than that Origen knew of no way in which this matter [of the “King’s” identity] could be determined.”
[118] Charles, Revelation, 1:xciii; Swete, Apocalypse, xcix, c.
[119] The passage cited by Charles and Swete climaxes with, “Irenaeus, in his fifth book against the heresies … spoke in the following manner respecting [John]” (Eusebius Ecclesiastical History 3.18 [translation given is that of C. F. Cruse in Eusebius' Ecclesiastical History, rev. ed., trans. C. F. Cruse (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1998)]).
[120] Eusebius connects John’s banishment with Peter and Paul’s executions in Evangelical Demonstrations (see discussion by Gentry, Before Jerusalem Fell, 103–4); Jerome repeats Tertullian’s account of John’s torture and banishment, which, as we shall discuss below, is indicative of a Neronic dating of these events. Jerome, however, then ties this tradition to the Domitianic banishment tradition (Jerome Against Jovinianum 1.26).
[121] Guthrie, New Testament Introduction, 703.
[122] George Edmunson, The Church in Rome in the First Century (London: Longman’s Green, 1913), 203–21; Robinson, Redating, 322.
[123] Charles, Revelation, 1:xcvii; Many voices of agreement could be noted including Swete, Apocalypse, cx and Guthrie, New Testament Introduction, 929.
[124] Canon Muratorianus 3 (translation given is that of S. D. F. Salmond in Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 5).
[125] Tertullian The Prescription Against Heretics 36 (translation given is that of Peter Holmes in Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 3).
[126] Jerome Against Jovinianum 1.26.
[127] Schaff, History, vol. 1, 428; see also Ellis, Making of the New Testament Documents, 213.
[128] Stuart, Apocalypse, vol. 1, 269.
[129] Epiphanius Heresies 51.12, 33.
[130] Guthrie, New Testament Introduction, 956; Moffatt, “Revelation,” 505; Robinson, Redating, 224; Mounce, Revelation, 15, n. 74.
[131] Index discipulorum 125.
[132] See William Wright, Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles, vol. 2 (London: Philo, 1871), 55; the references in the Syriac versions of Revelation are given in the title.
[133] See discussion in A. R. Fausset, Revelation in Robert Jamieson, A. R. Fausset, and David Brown, A Commentary, Critical and Explanatory, on the Old and New Testaments, vol. 2 (Hartford, CT: Scranton, n.d.), 548.
[134]
Summarizing the same sentiment,
[135] Collins, “Dating the Apocalypse of John,” 34.
[136] Leonard L. Thompson, The Book of Revelation: Apocalypse and Empire (New York: Oxford University Press, 1990), 16.
[137] Charles, Revelation, 1:cxv; Swete, Apocalypse, chap. 9; I. T. Beckwith, The Apocalypse of St. John: Studies in Introduction with a Critical and Exegetical Commentary (New York: Macmillan, 1919), 204.
[138]
[139] See Charles, Revelation, 1:xcv; Swete, Apocalypse, chap. 9; Beckwith, Apocalypse, 204.
[140] Again, this is particularly true of English scholarship. German scholars have tended to default to the evidence of Irenaeus’ quote (Wilson, “The Problem of the Domitianic Date of Revelation,” 588–9), for which, see above.
[141]
[142] Dio Cassius Roman History 67.14
[143] J. B. Lightfoot, The Apostolic Fathers: Clement, Ignatius, and Polycarp: Revised Texts with Introduction, Notes, Dissertations, and Translations (London: Macmillan, 1890), part 1, 1.34–37. It should be noted that the importance of this example cannot be overstated because it is the only specific instance that can be produced of such alleged Domitianic martyrdoms of Christians, and the evidence that it even is an example of this at all is quite scanty.
[144] Suetonius Domitian 15.
[145]
[146] Ibid., 591; The epitome, by the way, was considered by Cary, translator of Dio’s Roman History for the Loeb Classical Library, to have been made “very carelessly,” apparently involving frequent rhetorical embellishment, (Dio’s Roman History, trans. Earnest Cary, Loeb Classical Library, vol. 1 [London: Heinemann, 1914], xxiii).
[147]
[148] Lightfoot, Apostolic Fathers, part 1, 1.61–62.
[149] Ibid., pt. 1, 1.104–15.
[150] Eusebius Ecclesiastical History 3.26.7.
[151] Collins, “Dating the Apocalypse of John,” 38.
[152]
John Sweet, “Revelation, The Book of,” in The
[153] Thompson, Revelation, 16; to this list of skeptics of a Domitianic persecution could be added Moule, Birth of Christianity, 153; N. T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God, vol. 2, Christian Origins and the Question of God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996), 374; F. F. Bruce, New Testament History, 412; D. A. Carson, Douglas J. Moo, and Leon Morris, An Introduction to the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1992), 474; et al.
[154] Wilson, “The Problem of the Domitianic Date of Revelation,” 597 (italics mine). The reference to a “perceived crisis” alludes to Collins’ position that, in light of the fact that we know there was no Domitianic persecution, the Apocalypse must have been written under the tension of a “perceived” potential for one (Collins, “Dating the Apocalypse of John”).
[155] G. K. Beale, The Book of Revelation: A Commentary on the Greek Text, New International Greek Testament Commentary, ed. I. Howard Marshall and Donald A. Hagner (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), 12; Beale does note, however, that it remains possible that “John may have seen the outbreak of persecution in Rome as the first step of expanding persecutions elsewhere in the Empire.” While plausible, this is of course simply a conjecture. Going further, Gentry actually attempts to demonstrate that there may in fact be some evidence of empire-wide persecution, but his arguments likewise are little more than speculation (see Gentry, Before Jerusalem Fell, 297–98).
[156] Wilson, The Problem of the Domitianic Date of Revelation,” 596, citing unspecified evidence from Statius.
[157] Note Warden’s blunt statement: “In fact there is no evidence that emperor worship was promoted with any particular fervor during the time of Domitian” (Duane Warden, “Imperial Persecution and the Dating of 1 Peter and Revelation,” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 34 [June 1991]: 207).
[158] See Robinson, Redating, 236–37 for a thorough discussion of the prominence of the imperial cult under the rule of these emperors.
[159]
Such as that in Rev 2:4–5 and
[160] So Charles, Revelation, 1:xciv; Moffatt, Revelation, 317; et al.
[161] Polycarp Philippians 11.3 (translation provided is that of J. B. Lightfoot and J. R. Harmer in The Apostolic Fathers, 2d ed., ed. Michael W. Holmes [London: Macmillan, 1891], 128.
[162]
Robinson, Redating, 229–30; so
Guthrie, New Testament Introduction,
954; Gentry, Before
[163] Mounce, Revelation, 19 represents this approach.
[164] Tacitus Annals 14.27.
[165] Collins, “Myth and History,” 402.
[166] Rev 17:9–10.
[167] E.g., Beale, Revelation, 870.
[168] See the thorough discussion by Robinson, Redating, 245–49.
[169] Ibid., 247. This is of course not conclusive, but must be taken as corroborating evidence.