by Scott Hahn
Both John and Jesus refer not only to a distant Parousia, or return—but to Jesus' ongoing Parousia, which did take place within the first Christian generation, as it still takes place today. We should not forget that the original meaning of the Greek Parousia is “presence,” and Jesus' presence is real and abiding in the Blessed Sacrament of the Eucharist. So when John and Jesus said “soon,” I believe they meant it quite literally. For the Church is the kingdom already begun on earth, and it is the place of the Parousia in every Mass.
WHORES AND RUMORS OF WAR
John clearly indicates that the “great city” of Revelation 11 is Jerusalem. He wrote: “Their dead bodies will lie in the street of the great city which is allegorically called Sodom and Egypt, where their Lord was crucified.” In Revelation 17:6, the harlot, “drunk with the blood of the saints and the blood of the martyrs of Jesus,” resonates with the Old Testament invectives against Jerusalem's infidelities. Ezekiel (see 16:2–63; 23:2–49), Jeremiah (2:20; 3:3), Isaiah (1:21), and others decry the city as a harlot. Then, in Revelation 20–21, we see the new Jerusalem descend from heaven as a virgin bride after the harlot city is destroyed. Notice the contrast: two cities, one a whore, the other a virgin bride. One Jerusalem replaces the other.
It was Jerusalem's authorities who crucified Jesus Christ. And Jerusalem was the main locus of persecution for Christians of the first generation (see Acts 6:8–14; 7:57–60; 8:1–3). The chief persecutors were the priests and pharisees such as Saul of Tarsus. The Acts of the Apostles describes constant persecution, in many cities outside Jerusalem; but in almost every case, the persecutions stem from Jewish opposition (see Acts 13:45; 14:2, 5, 19; 17:5–9, 13; 18:12–17; 21:27–32).
A TALE OF FOUR CITIES
(SODOM, EGYPT, JERICHO, BABYLON)
The details of the destruction described in Revelation correspond closely to the history of Jerusalem's destruction. In Revelation 17–19, John shows a city destroyed by fire; Jerusalem was entirely destroyed by fire. In chapters 8 and 9, John describes “the abyss,” which, according to Jewish tradition, lay beneath the Foundation Stone of Jerusalem's Temple.
There is still further evidence that Jerusalem is the city depicted in the Apocalypse. Revelation closely tracks the Old Testament Book of Ezekiel, and Ezekiel's single outstanding message is that the curse of the covenant will come upon Jerusalem. We see this curse fulfilled in the Book of Revelation.
Jerusalem is “allegorically called Sodom and Egypt,” says John. What is it that these places held in common? They were centers of opposition to the plan of God. Sodom stood in the way of God's covenant plan with Abraham; Egypt stood in the way of His covenant plan for Moses and Israel. Now, it's Jerusalem's turn to oppose God, as its leaders persecute the Apostles and the Church. Thus, Jerusalem, like Sodom and Egypt, had to fall, and Revelation portrays that fall in terms of seven plagues, which echo the plagues that God visited upon Egypt (see Rev 17).
When the city falls, we hear still more Old Testament echoes. For the great city falls from the blasts of seven trumpets blown by seven angels (Rev 8–9). This passage of Revelation closely follows the story of the fall of Jericho (see Jos 6:3–7). Both passages begin with silence, proceed to the seven trumpet blasts, and end with a shout. Jericho, too, had stood in the way of God's plan, by attempting to keep the Chosen People out of the Promised Land. In turn, Jerusalem, persecutor of Christians, had become a new Jericho, and thus it had to fall.
Much later in the Apocalypse, when the kings of the earth assemble for battle “on the great day of God the Almighty” (Rev 16:14), they assemble on the hill of Megiddo, or Armageddon. This location recalls yet another painful historical memory for Israel. Armageddon was the place where Josiah, the great Davidic king, amid his holy reform of Jerusalem, was cut down in his prime for disobeying the instruction of God's prophet (see 2 Kgs 23:28–30). Josiah's defeat at Megiddo weakened Israel's defenses and left Jerusalem vulnerable to destruction by Babylon. An ironic twist for the generation of Christians was that Jesus Christ—like Josiah, a Davidic king and reformer Who was cut down in His prime—would persevere in obedience and succeed where Josiah failed, establishing a new Jerusalem, witnessed by the fall of the old.
TIMES OF THE SIGN
Fall it did, as the Roman emperor Titus's armies laid siege to the city in the year A.D. 70. Siege brought on famine, pestilence, and strife, which we can see in the devastations wrought by the four angelic horsemen of Revelation 6, and by the seven angelic trumpeters of Revelation 8–9. In a manner less symbolic and more horrifically graphic, we can see these calamities described also in the writings of the Jewish historian Josephus, who was an eyewitness. Josephus describes Jerusalem so ravaged by famine that its mothers, mad with hunger, began to devour their own infants.
Yet, through all the strife of the Jewish War, not a single Christian perished, because the community of believers had fled to the mountains across the Jordan to a place called Pella. We read in Revelation 7:1–4, that these Christians—144,000 from the Twelve Tribes of Israel—were preserved because they were “sealed . . . upon their foreheads.” This recalls the signing of God's remnant in Ezekiel (see Ez 9:2–4), where the Hebrew word for “sign” is tau, transliterated as the Greek letter “T.” In A.D. 70, God similarly saved the remnant of Israel who were marked with tau, the Sign of the Cross. This “sealing” with the tau seems to be a reference to baptism, since the 144,000 are wearing white robes, the traditional baptismal garment; they're “washed in the Lamb's blood” (the cleansing effect of the Lamb's death); they're led by the Lamb to “springs of living water” (see Jn 3–4; 7); and the term for “sealed” was commonly applied to baptism in the early Church (see Rom 4–6; Eph 1:11–14; 2 Cor 1:22).
The Christians bore the sign and they counted on angelic allies. The Book of Revelation makes it clear that even though every believer must battle against powerful supernatural forces, no Christian ever fights alone. Till the end of time, Michael and the faithful angels fight on the side of the Church—and this, Revelation shows us, is the side that wins.
THE FIRST CHURCH OF CHRIST IN JERUSALEM
A fascinating, often neglected part of the historical record is that the first Christian church structure—standing on Mount Zion—survived the siege and the destruction. In A.D. 70, Rome's Tenth Legion stood between the Zion church and the burning sectors of Jerusalem. In A.D. 130, when Hadrian arrived to put down the second Jewish revolt, Jerusalem was still in ruins, reported St. Epiphanius, “except for a few houses and the little church of God on the spot where the disciples went to the upper room.”
Of all the sacred sites in and around the holy city, why did God preserve the upper room? According to tradition, this was the place where Jesus instituted the Eucharist, and the spot where the Spirit descended on Pentecost. Thus it was the place where Christians were first nourished for the imminent famine, where they were sealed by the Spirit for safety in the coming destruction. This very church seems to have been preserved from the otherwise total destruction of Jerusalem.
SPIRITUAL SEMITES
Again we must face the question of whether John's Apocalypse—and even Christianity itself—is anti-Semitic or anti-Jewish. Isn't Revelation's analysis of the Jewish War exceedingly harsh? Was John just kicking the Chosen People while they were down?
Our answer to these questions must be a firm no. Anti-Semitism is spiritual stupidity and it renders the Apocalypse meaningless. For John's vision makes no sense unless Israel is the firstborn of all nations. As our eldest brother, Israel stood as an example for us.
You can see this vividly if you ever visit Rome. There stands the Arch of Titus, the monument erected to celebrate the Roman general's defeat of the Jews. Carved in the stone are scenes of battle and of soldiers carrying off the spoils of Jerusalem's destruction. There, amid the booty, is the Temple Menorah, the seven golden lamps.
The scenes on the arch correspond in a chilling way to Jesus' mes
sage in Revelation: “I will come to you and remove your lamp stand from its place, unless you repent” (Rev 2:5). Recall that Jesus Himself stands amid the lamp stands (see Rev 1:12–13); so to remove the lamp was to remove God's very presence. Yet here the Lord was not speaking to Jerusalem, but to the Church of Ephesus, whose love for Him had grown cold. He warned the Christians of Ephesus that, unless they changed their ways, they would suffer the same fate as their elder brother, Israel.
The sad truth is that Ephesus did lose its lamp, as did Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, and Laodicea—every single one of the churches addressed in the Book of Revelation. In turn, each of those cities, once thriving Christian centers, suffered the loss of faith. Today, all are predominantly Muslim, and Catholics there require special permission just to celebrate the Mass.
Think about it: Ephesus was home, in turn, to the Blessed Virgin Mary, St. John, St. Paul, St. Barnabas, St. Timothy, Apollos—a veritable hall of fame of New Testament personages. Yet Ephesus lost its lamp, as Jerusalem had before and other prosperous churches would afterward.
No, Israel's defeat is no cause for celebration. It should cause us to tremble—because not only can it happen to Christians but it has, repeatedly, and it will likely happen again. If Israel the firstborn failed, so will we, younger siblings, whenever we grow proud and self-reliant.
Thus, I repeat, anti-Semitism and anti-Judaism are spiritually destructive and stupid. In the words of Pope Pius XI: “Spiritually, we are Semites.” You cannot be a good Catholic until you've fallen in love with the religion and people of Israel.
WALK A CUBIT IN THEIR SANDALS
Still, the old Jerusalem had to give way to the new Jerusalem: a new covenant, a new creation, a new heaven and a new earth. After two thousand years, we Christians are comfortable with this notion—too comfortable, in fact. But if we place ourselves imaginatively in the time of John's Revelation, we'll find that the very idea of Jerusalem's fall makes us anxious. Jerusalem was, after all, the holy city for the children of Israel; and most of the first Christians were Jews. They had to face up to the destruction of the Temple, the most beautiful building on earth, and the disappearance of a priesthood that stretched back more than a thousand years, established by God on Mount Sinai. Jesus Himself wept with love for Jerusalem, even as the town fathers plotted His execution. For these first Christians, the destruction of Jerusalem was cause for intense anxiety.
Yet Jerusalem and the Temple were indeed passing away before their eyes. Christians needed reassurance. They required an explanation. They were desperate for a revelation from God.
Through John, God revealed His covenant judgment upon old Jerusalem. The city had called forth wrath by its infidelity, by crucifying the Son of God and by persecuting the Church. Knowing this, Christians could see the context of their own persecution, and could understand why they must no longer look to old Jerusalem for their help and salvation.
Now they must look to the new Jerusalem, which was, before John's eyes, descending from heaven. Where was it touching down? On Mount Zion, where Jesus had eaten His last Passover and instituted the Eucharist. Mount Zion, where the Holy Spirit had descended upon the Apostles at Pentecost. Mount Zion, where Christians till A.D. 70 met to celebrate the Eucharist—and where the Lamb stood with the faithful remnant of Israel (Rev 14:1), who were sealed against the impending destruction. The new Jerusalem came to earth, then as now, in the place where Christians celebrated the supper of the Lamb.
THE KILLER LAMB
In the Mass, the early Christians would find strength amid persecution. From the one perpetual sacrifice of Jesus Christ would come the Church's help and salvation. The Mass is where Christians joined forces with the angels and saints to worship God, as the Book of Revelation shows us. The Mass is where the Church received “hidden manna” for sustenance in times of trial (see Rev 2:17). The Mass is where the prayers of the saints on earth rose like incense to join the prayers of angels in heaven—and it is these prayers that altered the course of battles and the course of history. That's the battle plan of the Apocalypse. That's how Christianity prevailed over seemingly unbeatable enemies, in Jerusalem and in Rome.
Even after Jerusalem's fall, other adversaries would rise to persecute the Church of God. In every age, the Church faces mighty persecutors, with ever more powerful armies and armaments. Yet weapons and legions and strategies all will fail. Great generals will, ultimately, fall to mortal wounds. But when the Lamb enters the fray, “Then the kings of the earth and the great men and the generals and the rich and the strong, and every one, slave and free, hid in the caves and among the rocks of the mountains, calling to the mountains and rocks, “Fall on us and hide us from the face of Him Who is seated on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb; for the great day of their wrath has come, and who can stand it?' ” (Rev 6:15–17).
The Church is the army of the Lamb, the forces of Zion preserved upon Jerusalem's destruction. The army of the Lamb draws strength from the banquet of heaven.
FOUR
Judgment Day
HIS MERCY IS SCARY
RECENT GENERATIONS of interpreters have fixated on Revelation's wars and beasts, which are fascinating because they're frightening. Readers have legitimate fears about how such severe judgment might apply during their own lifetime. Indeed, some have dismissed Revelation's judgments as too grotesque and scandalous, and even irreconcilable with the idea of a merciful God.
Yet God's justice, like His mercy, appears everywhere in the Bible. It is an integral part of His self-revelation. To deny the force of divine judgment, then, is to make God less than God, and to make us less than His children. For every father must discipline His children, and paternal discipline is itself a mercy, a fatherly expression of love. In order to understand the judgment of Revelation—and its application to our own lives—we need first to understand the covenant bond that unites us to God the Father.
A covenant is a sacred family bond. We can see that God—by His covenants with Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses, David, and Jesus—gradually extended that family relationship to more and more people. With each covenant came a law; but these were not arbitrary acts of power; they were expressions of fatherly wisdom and love. Every healthy home, after all, has clear guidelines for acceptable and unacceptable behavior. Yet, even more than this, God's law enabled us to love as He Himself loves, to grow in our imitation of the “divine family” of the Blessed Trinity. For Father, Son, and Holy Spirit live eternally in perfect peace and communion.
If God's covenant makes us His family, then sin means more than a broken law. It means broken lives and a broken home. Sin comes from our refusal to keep the covenant, our refusal to love God as much as He loves us. Through sin, we abandon our status as children of God. Sin kills the divine life in us.
Judgment, then, is not an impersonal, legalistic process. It is a matter of love, and it is something we choose for ourselves. Nor is punishment a vindictive act. God's “curses” are not expressions of hatred, but of fatherly love and discipline. Like medicinal ointment, they hurt in order to heal. They impose suffering that is remedial, restorative, and redemptive. God's wrath is an expression of His love for His wayward children.
God is love (1 Jn 4:8), but His love is a consuming fire (Heb 12:29), which stubborn sinners find unbearable. God's fatherhood does not lessen the severity of His wrath or lower the standard of His justice. On the contrary, a loving father requires more from his children than judges demand from defendants. Yet a good father also shows greater mercy.
CAN I HAVE A WITNESS?
We need that understanding of covenant if we're to understand the judgments of the Book of Revelation. And there's no mistaking the situation. John's vision is not merely liturgical, or merely royal, or merely military. It is all these, but it is also juridical. It's a courtroom scene. To citizens of modern democracies, this combination might seem like chaos; but we should remember that, in ancie
nt Israel, the king was commander in chief of the army, chief justice of the courts, and, ideally, high priest as well. As divine king, Jesus fulfilled all these roles par excellence. So, when John sees heaven, he has simultaneously entered the Temple, the throne room, the battlefield, and the courtroom. As in any courtroom, Revelation presents the testimony of sworn witnesses. “And the angel . . . lifted up his right hand to heaven and swore by Him Who lives forever” (Rev 10:5–6). Later, in chapter 11, the court summons Moses and Elijah. Though John does not mention them by name, he suggests their identity by speaking of the powers these men displayed in the Old Testament: in Elijah's case, the power to close up the sky and call down fire; in Moses' case, the ability to turn water to blood and call down plagues. These two witnesses (Rev 11:3) represent the whole of the Law (Moses) and all of the prophets (Elijah). By their presence, they testify that the people of Israel knew full well the obligations of their covenant with God, and the consequences of their infidelity.
Other witnesses testify by giving up their lives. In Greek, the word for “witness” is martus, whence we get the word “martyr.” Thus, in chapter 6, we encounter “the souls of those who had been slain for the word of God and for the witness they had borne” (v. 9). These witnesses call to the judge for a swift execution of sentence: “O Sovereign Lord, holy and true, how long before You will judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell upon the earth” (6:9–10). Since they cry out from the altar, we know their testimony is true and that it will be heard. But against whom are they testifying? To answer that question, we must consider which city was the source and center of persecution in the Church's first generation—and that was Jerusalem.
