THE SOCIAL
SETTING OF THE REVELATION TO JOHN:
CONFLICTS WITHIN, FEARS
WITHOUT
David A. DeSilva
THE
work of sociologists of religion has opened new vistas for inquiry
into
questions of NT introduction. The aim of this study is to explore
how
work in sociology of religion leads to clarification of the social dimen-
sions of the
Revelation to John, the Apocalypse. It particularly seeks to
clarify
the role of John with respect to the seven churches to which he
addresses
his work, hence his self-understanding as well, the social tensions
between
these church communities and the larger social communities
around
them, and the tensions within the church communities themselves.
From
this examination of John's role and the tensions expressed in Reve-
lation, we shall
attempt to understand the situation in sociological terms,
and
in the same terms examine John's agenda for the churches communi-
cated through the
Apocalypse. This will lead to an examination of the
social
function of the Apocalypse in relation to the social history of the
period
and finally to a reexamination of the social function of apocalyptic
itself.
We must ground the whole of this inquiry in as precise a historical
reconstruction
as possible if the social analyses are to be accurate, and so
we
turn first to the problem of when John wrote his Apocalypse and what
historical
situation occasioned it.
I. Historical Location
The author of Revelation clearly
indicates his location and the location
of
the churches he addresses. He writes from the
lies
approximately eighty-eight miles from the southwest coast of
nor,
to seven churches in the western portion of the province of
churches—
and
nature
of John's ministry as an itinerant prophet. Most lie within a day's
or
two days' journey of each other, that is, between twenty and forty miles.
Their
proximity united them under the same imperial province, and hence
under
the same governor, although, of course, their local situations would
not
necessarily be the same.
The date of the Revelation, and hence
of the nature of the situation that
occasioned
it, is considerably more widely disputed. Scholars divide fairly
evenly
between placing the work in the "Year of the Four Kings," AD 68/69,
273
and
near the end of Domitian's reign, AD 94 or 95. The only other real
option
suggested in the history of interpretation is some time during the
reign
of Trajan, although some have seen in Caligula an early possibility,
however
unlikely. What is at stake in the answer to this question is the
historical
and social situation (or crisis, in one form or another) to which
and
out of which the Apocalypse addresses itself:
The most weighty external evidence
appears in Irenaeus, Against Heresies,
book
five, where Irenaeus places the work "near the
end of Domitian' s
reign,"
which would have been near the beginning of his own lifetime.
Eusebius
accepts this testimony as conclusive. There appears to have been
no
other tradition in the early church to counter it until Dorotheus
in the
sixth
century advanced the Trajan period as the time of its writing, but this
is
a late development. Many scholars follow the Domitianic
dating, but a
great
number do so based on their conviction that Christians were widely
persecuted
under Domitian. Mounce, Moffatt,
Lilje, and most popular
commentators
base their interpretation of Revelation on this assumption.
The greatest problem with this view is
that there appears to be no pagan
historian
to corroborate it. While Christian documents point to Domitian
as
a second Nero, there is little evidence that Domitian persecuted Chris-
tians as Christians.
A great many may well have been caught up in his
"dragnet,"
which made a name for him in Roman history as of "severest
cruelty,"
but for some other cause than their confession of the name.1 Such
might
account for the references in the Martyrdom
of Ignatius and others to
Domitian's
reputation as a Christian-killer.
The connection of the crime of a]qeo<thj with crimes
against the emperor,
as
in the case of Domitilla cited by Dio
Cassius,2 while not implying reli-
gious persecution of
a particular sect, ought to call our attention to the
danger
of professing a religion that excludes the Roman gods and the im-
perial divinity in an
atmosphere where religious life and sociopolitical require-
ments overlap. The
popular move in scholarship to exonerate Domitian
overlooks
the evidence that, while religious persecution was not wide-
spread,
the complex relationship of state and public Roman religious life
made
it a perpetual possibility. Religious positions such as those taken by
the
Jew or Christian would not be viewed apart from their political, and
therefore
punishable, ramifications, were they to be brought to official
attention.
The lack of evidence for a particular
persecution of Christians as Chris-
tians under Domitian
leads other scholars to consider an earlier date for the
document,
a time of known social upheaval and religious persecution,
namely,
the period following Nero's reign. Scholars following this line of
1 A. A.
2 R. H. Mounce, The Book of
Revelation (NICNT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1977)
33.
THE SOCIAL SETTING OF
REVELATION 275
thinking
appeal unanimously to internal evidence, beginning with the argu-
ment advanced in
Engels' essays on Revelation and early Christianity.3 The
most
advanced arguments offered in support for this early date are to be
found
in Robinson's and Gentry's works, which are wholly dedicated to
questions
of dating.4 Briefly, the reference to the temple in Rev 11:1-2
indicates
to some that the temple is still standing, and so points to a date
before
AD 70.5 Lipinski offers the striking argument that
than
of
the apocalypticist moves without being transported v itvc iait, "in the
Spirit,"
is when he moves to measure the still-standing temple in Jerusa-
lem.6
The number of the beast given in
Rev 13:18 is the sum of the addition
of
the Hebrew letters in Nero's title, whether rsq
Nvrn, which adds up to 666,
or
the form without the second nun, which yields the well-attested variant
616.7
Most decisive in their argument is the "head count" of Rev 17:10-11,
whereby
they arrive at Nero as the fifth (or sixth, counting from Julius
Caesar
as Lipinski insists that the Jewish people would)8 of the kings that
were
and Galba as the one "who is," thus giving a decisive date between
June
68 and April 69.9
In the endless repartee, all these
claims are answered from the point of
view
of the later date. One school adopts the idea that John used an earlier
apocalypse
from the time immediately before the destruction of Jerusa-
lem.10
Another insists on the figurative understanding of the temple as the
understanding
of the beast's heads.11 As Downing notes, the further ex-
planation of these heads
as the
over-pressing
the issue."12 Those who wish to press the issue do so by omit-
ting
the three emperors Galba, Otho, and Vitellius, who together reign just
short
of a year.
count,
and hence "to the ancient mind" such an omission is inconceiv-
able.13
From Suetonius' account of the social upheaval surrounding these
3 Friedrich
Engels, On Religion (ed. R. Niebuhr;
4 J. A. T.
Robinson, Redating the New Testament (Philadelphia:
Westminster, 1976), 221-53;
K.
L. Gentry, Jr., Before
Christian
Economics, 1989).
5 Mounce, Revelation,
35.
6 E. Lipinski,
"L'Apocalypse et le martyre
de Jean a
7 Engels, On Religion, 341.
8 E. Lipinski,
"L'Apocalypse," 226.
9 Engels, On Religion, 340.
10 E.g., J. Massyngberde Ford, Revelation
(AB 38; New York: Doubleday, 1975) and E.
Lohse, The Formation of the New Testament
(Nashville: Abingdon, 1981).
11
Mounce, Revelation, 220; J. Drape, Early Christians (San Francisco: Harper
& Row, 1982)
124.
12 F. G. Downing,
"Pliny's Prosecutions of Christians," JSNT 34 (1988) 119.
13
276
three,
however, it seems quite conceivable for "the ancient mind," at least
the
"apocalyptic mind," to depict the period with its three emperors as
the
deadly
wound from which the beast recovered, and at which recovery the
world
marveled and worshiped, no doubt in part out of gratitude and relief
for
the center of the empire to be whole again. Any Roman thinking figura-
tively would have to
agree with the interpretation of the tumultuous year.
If
these three are omitted, then beginning with Augustus as the first head
of
the beast, the count of the eight heads progresses down the series of
emperors
to land on Domitian.
Ulrichsen
pursues the problem of the reckoning of the seven heads to-
gether with the ten
horns perhaps most completely. He asserts that the
counting
ought to begin with Caligula, as "dieser Herrscher leitet die Zeit
des
neuen Aons ein," being the first emperor after Christ.14
The heads tally
the
major emperors; the horns mark every official regent, thus including the
three
interregnum emperors. In both cases, Domitian is in view as the
presently
reigning emperor (the sixth head and the ninth horn), leaving the
count
open for a coming ruler under whom the incipient situation of crisis
will
come to consummate tribulation. This conclusion is best supported by
the
external evidence, as we shall explore below.
This sort of internal evidence must
remain indecisive, as it can be pressed
into
the service of either viewpoint. If a precise and correct date and situa-
tion is to be
achieved, however, debunking some preconceptions of this
situation
will be a crucial first step.
he
attacks the Domitianic date on the basis of lack of
evidence for a Domi-
tianic persecution of
Christians, but fails to notice that the general assump-
tion not of the date
but of the circumstances—general persecution—may be
what
is truly misleading. Robinson strongly argues as well for the earlier
date
based on his conviction that Revelation was written out of an expe-
rience of intense
suffering (the only other option for him being that John
was
psychotic!).15 Irenaeus himself does not
attach the Domitianic date to
any
particular persecution or devastation of the church.16 There is an
under-
lying
assumption that apocalyptic is always a response to a desperate social
situation,
a sort of last hope of the despairing. It is often regarded as the
bitter
consolation of a defeated people through the envisioning of the pun-
ishment and overthrow
of their enemies and promise of reward outside the
boundaries
of an unredeemable history.
Another assumption made by
Christians
in
persecution
of Christians in the province to which John wrote.17 The work
of
Ramsey and Bowersock concerning the imperial cult in
14 J. H. Ulrichsen, "Die sieben Haupter and die Zehn Homer. Zur Datierung der
Offen-
barung des
Johannes," ST 39 (1985) 15.
15
Robinson,
Redating,
231, 233.
16 Downing,
"Pliny's Prosecutions," 118.
17
THE SOCIAL SETTING OF
REVELATION 277
to
interpret the social value placed on this institution and hence how re-
sistance to the
institution might be an invitation for the society's rejection
of
or even hostile action towards the nonparticipant. The likelihood for
persecution
of Christians as Christians thus appears greater in the province
than
in the capital.
Ramsey understood the province of
imperialism
as the salvation of the territory.18 The ravagings
of times past
gave
way to a new peace and order which, despite the costs of taxation and
tribute,
allowed the region to flourish. The imperial cult, instituted in
Minor
at the time of Augustus, found widespread acceptance as a demon-
stration of gratitude. Bowersock further anchors the imperial cult in the
history
of
in
place this system of honoring benefactors, whether that beneficence was
actual
or anticipated.20
These cult practices were of notable
political importance. They were a
means
of communication between the society and its leader, a ritualized
expression
of allegiance and petition for a favorable disposition. Participa-
tion reinforced the
"public knowledge" of Roman greatness and domina-
tion, and, as
Thompson rightly notes, provided at once a representation of
the
emperor to the people of the province and a representation of the
people
of the province to the emperor.21 The imperial cult was thus of
decisive
importance in the maintenance of investment in the imperial sys-
tem
and of the favorable disposition of the emperor towards the province.
Scherrer,
following Ramsey, has returned to the thesis that the thirteenth
chapter
of the Apocalypse reveals the inner workings of the imperial cult.22
The
image of the emperor was brought out to a place of central impor-
tance, and
sacrifices, libations, and the rest were made to the divus of the
emperor.
This cultic experience was embellished with ventriloquism and
the
best special effects of the day to impress upon the participant the mys-
terious power of the
divine head of the political system.23 Hemer
has as-
serted the practice of
a participant receiving a white stone or some sort of
token
as a commemoration of an experience of the cultic god, which might
stand
behind possession of the "mark of the beast," though this inference
is
dubious.24
18 W Ramsey, The Letters to the Seven Churches of
115.
19 G. W. Bowersock, "The Imperial Cult," in Jewish and Christian Self-Definition
(ed. E. P.
Sanders
and B. Meyer,
Bowersock, "The
Imperial Cult," 171.
21 L. L. Thompson,
The Book of Revelation (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 1990) 158.
22 S. J. Scherrer, "Revelation 13 as an Historical Source for
the Imperial Cult under
Domitian,"
HTR 74 (1981) 406.
23 Ramsey, Letters, 98.
24 C. Hemer, The Letters to
the Seven Churches in their Local Setting (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1986)
104.
278
Such reconstructions have, of course,
met with serious criticism. One
criticism
that appears to be untenable, however, is that of L. Thompson.
Appealing
to the manner in which the imperial cult blended in with the
local
pagan festivities and rituals, and particularly the way in which the
imperial
deity's imago took its place
alongside the simulacra of the other
gods
(a
terminological distinction maintained by Pliny Secundus),
Thompson
argues
that it is unlikely that the imperial cult would have stood out in
Christian
consciousness as a particular evil over against all the other cults.
Rather,
he suggests that the greater issue "revolves around Christians'
relations
to adherents of traditional religious cults rather than their relation
to
the cult of the emperor."25
Thompson's point would be well made,
if he simply offered a caveat not
to
assume that Christians at the end of the first century regarded the situ-
ation as a battle of
Christ vs. Caesar, as Ramsey concludes. As one considers
the
more immediate social pressure and economic peril revolving around
participation
in the trade guilds, with their patron deities and idolatrous
ceremonies,
this caveat is strengthened. It remains noteworthy, however,
that
the response of the alleged Christian to the imperial cult became a
decisive
test in
the
gods, it is the representation of the emperor which remains in the
foreground
of his thought. The explanation of Revelation 13 as a situation
of
trial where the crucial issue is worshiping or not worshiping the beast,
who
by all accounts represents the emperor, in a cultic setting at the de-
mand of the imperial
representative appears to force the conclusion that the
imperial
cult provided the decisive criterion for political amnesty or a
martyr's
testimony in blood.
The question remains, however, to what
extent the imperial cult was the
issue
at the time John wrote the Apocalypse. Suetonius informs us that
Domitian
claimed for himself the title Dominus Deus, "Lord God," in regu-
lar written correspondence and
conversation, and referred to his taking
back
of Domitilla, his wife, as a "recall to my
divine bed" (Domitian 13).
The
troops apparently felt strongly enough towards Domitian to speak
feelingly
of "Domitian the God" after his assassination, even though the
politicians
expressed delight at the emperor's demise (ibid., 23). There is,
however,
no mention of a persecution of Christians as Christians—a thing
for
which Suetonius actually lauds Nero. Suetonius does, however, treat in
some
detail a situation regarding the tax levied on Jews throughout the
empire
as a sort of price for religious tolerance, and speaks of investigations
of
cases where people hid their Jewish origins to avoid the tax, or lived like
Jews
without being Jews (ibid., 12). The distinction appears to have been
unimportant
in terms of religion, but of interest economically, that is, for
tax
purposes.
25 Thompson, Revelation, 164.
THE SOCIAL SETTING OF REVELATION 279
Those who "lived like Jews
without professing Judaism" may well in-
dicate those
Christians who claimed exemption from the civic and political
rites
surrounding the emperor-cult on the basis of their affiliation with
Judaism.
Hemer sketched in the details of such a scenario:
The situation placed the Jewish communities
in a position of peculiar power. By
disowning a Christian and informing against
him, they might deprive him of his
possible recourse to toleration at a price,
and render him liable to the emperor-
cult. . . . Individual Jews may have
informed against individual Christians, or the
synagogue may have provided on occasion
lists of bona fide members of their
congregations. The authorities, primarily
concerned with tax avoidance, may
thus have had forced on their attention a
powerful movement which appeared to
defy the emperor under the guise of a
Judaism which the official Jews
repudiated. A systematic investigation would
naturally follow 26
This
scenario may well account for the references to the "synagogue of
Satan,"
the threat of imprisonment and tribulation, and the martyrdom of
Antipas
found in the seven letters of Revelation 2 and 3. It is, however, only
an
early stage in a larger process at work, a process that looks forward to
the
total separation of synagogue and church, the resulting political and
economic
vulnerability of the Christian communities, and the challenge to
resist
the drives (both external and internal) toward accommodation to the
demands
of the imperial world. The attention of the imperial officials is still
on
the tax; the distinction between synagogue and church is just beginning
to
dawn on all parties concerned. The imperial cult looms thus close to the
surface,
but it cannot be said that it reaches its fullest significance for the
churches
in
ginning
of troubles."
Pliny's letter to Trajan affords us
the first pagan reference to the trial of
Christians
as Christians.27 Here documented for the first time is the moment
of
decision between Caesar and Christ, one choice leading to pardon, the
other
to execution. Here also appears for the first time the sort of situation
for
which the author of the Apocalypse might be preparing. Nero's perse-
cution cannot provide
a true clue to the date of Revelation. Limited to
emperor."28
There was no call for steadfastness, for not denying the name,
for
deciding for the community. In Pliny's report we have outlined the sort
of
situation where the word of Revelation actually becomes pertinent. We
will
return to this situation under the examination of the social function of
the
Apocalypse.
Pliny's letter provides much
information about the proceedings against
Christians
in the next
of
the second century. The procedure is straightforward:
26 Hemer, Letters,
8-10.
27 Downing,
"Pliny's Prosecutions," 105.
28 H. Lilje, L'Apocalypse (Paris: Payot, 1959) 40.
280
I ask them if they are Christians. If they
admit it, I repeat the question a second
and third time, threatening capital
punishment; if they persist I sentence them
to death. For I do not doubt that, whatever
kind of crime it may be to which they
have confessed, their pertinacity and
inflexible obstinacy should certainly be
punished.... All who denied that they were
or had been Christians I considered
discharged, because they called upon the gods
at my dictation and did reverence,
with incense and wine, to your image which I
had ordered to be brought forward
for this very purpose, together with the
statues of the deities; and especially
because they cursed Christ, a thing which,
it is said, genuine Christians cannot
be induced to do.
Here
was the beast "from the earth," that is, from the same land as the
recipients,29
acting as the agent of the emperor against the faith of Chris-
tians. The statues of
the other gods recede behind the one figure who was
perceived
to be behind this procedure, namely, the emperor.
The letter also reveals that once
Pliny had begun to entertain these cases,
their
number multiplied as many denunciations came, some even in the
form
of an anonymous pamphlet full of names. Pliny gives the impression
in
the peroration of his letter that the proceedings have had, besides the
effect
of an alarming number of executions, the effect of an increased ardor
for
associating with the imperial cult and temples of the Roman deities.
Pliny
sees in this result the "setting right" of so many "given the
chance
at
recantation," indicating that he had some success in turning Christians
around,
so to speak, back towards a sociopolitically
acceptable religion.
In terms of our original question of
date and historical situation, Down-
ing has truly broken ground by
suggesting that the Apocalypse was written
during
the reign of Trajan, noting bravely that there is just no earlier period
that
affords the evidence of the sort of persecution that the Apocalypse
might
seek to address.30 Of particular importance to his argument is the
observation
that Pliny has no recourse to precedents of trials and decisions
made
with regard to Christians. After an exhaustive survey of Pliny's ex-
tensive, even pedantic,
use of precedents in his letters to Trajan, or Trajan's
use
of them in his responses to Pliny's inquiries, Downing concludes that "if
Pliny
had had precedents, formal or informal, he would have used them,
...
even if he also asked for confirmation of his use or innovation from
Trajan."31
He concludes on this basis that
Revelation (as well as 1 Peter) was occa-
sioned by this new
procedure of Pliny and Trajan.32 This is again, however,
to
work from the presupposition that the Apocalypse must react to such an
experience
of suffering, rooted deeper again in the fundamental under-
standing
of apocalyptic as the desperate hope of the defeated, positing a
29 Ramsey, Letters, 104.
30 Downing,
"Pliny's Prosecutions," 105.
31 Ibid., 106.
32 Ibid., 113.
THE SOCIAL
SETTING OF REVELATION 281
future
reversal of presently experienced oppression. It denies to Revelation
the
possibility of being exactly what its author claims it to be. Its words are
"the
words of this prophecy." It also denies a use of apocalyptic as an organ
for
effecting social decision and action. It might be, as is the thesis of this
study,
that our Apocalypse is not the theodicy of the already suffering and
defeated,
but the posited "counter-definitions" that enable the communitas
to
consolidate its own identity and to decide for its own preservation over
against
the societas,
even at ultimate cost. We will, of course, need to define
some
of these terms as they are intended here when we turn to describe the
social
location of the seven churches within the larger social groups.
While Downing may err with respect to
the date, he calls attention to the
significant
fact that such official persecution and such criteria as we find
envisioned
in the Revelation first take place in this
under
Pliny Secundus. If one accepts this as the most
likely situation ad-
dressed
or considered in Revelation, but also divorces oneself from the
assumption
that an apocalypse is always born out of such a situation, then
one
may reconsider the date attributed to the work by Irenaeus
without
contest
in the early church. Revelation would retain a date of AD 95 or 96,
"near
the end of the reign of Domitian," but we would not therefore attach
the
document to a particular official persecution of Christians as Christians
under
Domitian, nor posit such a persecution on the basis of Revelation's
contents.
While this construal of the situation
would answer the correct criticism
of
indicating
a persecution under Domitian, it does not rule out the best
externally
supported option due to the oft-noted presupposition regarding
apocalyptic.
The evidence leads us to consider seriously the Apocalypse as
prophecy
for the situation of the seven churches and as a call for the response
God
would have them make. John has perceptively read the signs of his
times
and, as an astute social analyst, has understood where the relation-
ship
of the Christian communities and the political and social forces around
them
were heading.33 On this basis he is able to look at present
conditions,
foresee
the likely future conditions, and deliver a word from the Lord that
seeks
both to bolster the communities' counter-definitions of the cosmic
order
and to outline a program for the survival of the communitas in the face
of
the societas
(which poses a threat to communitas
on the double basis of
extermination
and assimilation). The analysis of the social conditions repre-
sented in the
so-called "seven letters" of Revelation 2 and 3 will supple-
ment the sketchy
reconstruction of the historical situation presented thus far.
33 It is striking
that even Robinson (Redating,
231, 251-53) does not allow John the possibility
of
prophetic insight, such that the contents of the visions of chaps. 4-20 may
refer to conditions
that
are yet to challenge the churches, and for which John seeks to prepare the
believers
through
these visions. For him, these visions must refer to events and experiences in
the 60s,
before
the actual composition of the Apocalypse.
282
II.
The Author's Relationship to the
Communities
The identity of the author is another
of the pressing questions of NT
introduction,
but for social scientific purposes it is less important to identify
a
name than to clarify the function served by that person. In light of this
recognition,
it should be noted that the following discussion seeks to clarify
this
second feature rather than answer the seemingly insoluble question of
authorship.
It may well be that the figure who behaves more characteris-
tically as a prophet rather than an apostle (from a sociology-of-religion stand-
point)
may in fact be the apostle John who knew Jesus "according to the
flesh."
The discussion would then simply show that not all apostles relied
on
their apostolic office in order to deliver the Lord's word to a congre-
gation in crisis (as
did Paul so vehemently in Galatians) and that apostles
could
employ the modes of prophecy and apocalyptic language freely in
order
to deliver that word from the Lord.
Mounce,
along with a few conservative scholars, still favors the apostle
John
as the most likely candidate.34 There is much external evidence for
this
view,
as many of the early fathers affirm that John the apostle did indeed
write
this book. Indeed, we are probably indebted to this affirmation for the
inclusion
of the book in the NT canon.35 In the middle of the third century,
however,
Dionysius of Alexandria is already questioning, Johannine
author-
ship
on the grounds of stylistic and lexical differences between the Reve-
lation and the Gospel
and Epistles of John.
By the time Eusebius writes his History of the Church, one source of
con-
fusion
with respect to the identity of the Johannine
documents has already
been
identified as the result of the presence of two prominent persons
named
"John" in
listing
of prominent leaders by Papias, in which John the
apostle appears
to
be clearly distinguished from a presbyter named John. He cites also the
report
of two tombs in
3.39).
On this basis, several scholars attribute the Revelation to one John
and
the Gospel and Epistles to the other John.36 Gundry has carefully
demonstrated,
however, that Eusebius' sources, namely, Papias and
Di-
onysius of
self
that the distinction between John the Apostle and John the Presbyter
originates,
due mainly to Eusebius' own Tendenz.37
Only Lipinski appears
to
favor a theory that this apocalypse follows the practice of pseudonymous
authorship
characteristic of most other apocalypses, claiming that the
34 Mounce, Revelation,
31.
35 Lohse, Formation,
229.
36 Ibid., 230.
37 R. H. Gundry, Matthew: A Commentary on His Literary and
Theological Art (
Eerdmans, 1982) 616.
THE SOCIAL. SETTING OF REVELATION 283
apocalypticist links his work
to John the apostle and that this John was in
fact
martyred in
Some scholars, such as Drane, cite internal evidence as more persuasive
criteria
for deciding the issue. The manner in which John portrays himself
simply
as a "brother" (Rev 1:9) and fellow-sharer in "tribulation, the
kingdom,
and patient endurance," together with the self-description of
John
as a "slave" in the preface (1:1), appears to deny any qualitative
distinction
between John and the recipients of the letter such as would cling
to
the office of "apostle" or "presbyter." Paul the apostle
and John the
presbyter,
at least, seem willing if not eager to uphold this distinction.
Furthermore,
the apostles are presented in the vision of the temple in New
the
outside.39
Perhaps even more suggestive that this
John was no bearer of a charisma
of
office is the choice of genre itself. No
canonical apostolic writing, genuine
or
pseudonymous, speaks its message as the Revelation of John the Seer.
Paul,
John the presbyter, and the authors of 1-2 Peter, James, and Jude all
find
it sufficient that their message is supported by their name—and seek
to
offer no other sort of legitimation save where that
name's "charisma of
office"
is called into question, as in Galatians 1 or 2 Corinthians 10-13.
Those
whose office is sufficiently legitimated in itself, as apostle or presby-
ter, need no other sort of legitimation.
Our author, on the other hand, appears
to base his appeal—his claim to
the
right both to offer the counter-definitions and to define salvific
action—
solely
upon charismatic legitimation throughout the work. Mounce asserts
that
there is an "implicit assumption of apostolicity in the authority of the
Seer's
voice,"40 but then why would the emphasis rest on the
charismatic
experience,
the visionary and oracular nature of the work? One finds in the
Apocalypse
not an assumption of authority, but rather the attempt (suc-
cessful, one might add)
of a prophet to legitimate his message in the ulti-
mate,
and therefore unquestionable, realm.
The book opens with the formulaic
identification of the author and the
addressees,
salutation, and benediction, in which is found articulated the
hope
forming the common pillar between the author and the churches,
namely,
the confession of the second coming. Immediately, however, what
is
being reported is no longer the words of John, but the very words of Jesus
the
risen Lord who speaks through the prophet, revealing his Word. John
is
simply "in the Spirit on the Lord's Day," commissioned as so many
prophets
of the Hebrew Scriptures were. Where a vision and call of God
were
involved in Isaiah 6 and Jeremiah 1, here it is the Risen Lord who
38 Lipinski,
"L'Apocalypse," 227.
39 Drane, Early
Christians, 124.
40
Mounce, Revelation, 28.
284
appears
and commissions the prophet to speak his words to the body of the
faithful
(Rev 1:11, repeated in 1:19). It is thus Jesus who gives the counter-
definitions
and outlines and calls for the faithful response. John passes on the
charismatic
experience as a faithful prophet passing on the oracles of the
Lord,
hvhy-Mxn.
The author keeps the reader/hearer
conscious of the oracular and visionary
nature
of the revelation throughout the book. Every "and I saw" serves to
anchor
the validity of the thing seen in the One who sends visions to the
prophets
to warn and exhort the faithful of God. The risen Lord who is
coming
soon is called upon at the end of the book (22:20) as the witness of
"these
things," presumably referring to 22:18-19, the only warnings set
down
by the author in his own voice. Again, no apostle would consider it
needful
to invoke the Lord's witness to a blessing or curse, as the "name of
an
apostle" would suffice, even when that name was under attack (again,
see
Gal 1:8-9).
The arrangement of the seven churches
to whom the author addresses
the
vision returns here as an important observation. A fair number of
commentators
regard these seven churches as representative churches, all-
though
certainly not all use these representative churches as keys to seven
ages
in the history of the church. This affirmation, based on the notion that
everything
in the Apocalypse must conform to traditional apocalyptic numer-
ology, whereby
"seven" indicates perfection or fullness, may actually ob-
scure a more adequate
and substantiated explanation. These seven churches
were
those particularly associated with John's "ministry" or calling as an
itinerant
prophet.
Such itinerant prophets, who mostly
relied upon charismatic legitima-
tion, are a
well-attested phenomenon in early Christianity. Paul's troubles
in
the Corinthian church, particularly the later stages as attested in 2
Corinthians
10-13, were most likely occasioned by itinerant preachers.
That
these built themselves up on charismatic legitimation
is not left to
guesswork
by Paul, who notes their opinion of their oratorical skill as
greater
than Paul's, as also their physical presence as more appealing and
ecstatic
experiences as more numerous and significant. These itinerants
boast
in such characteristics and slight Paul as not measuring up precisely
in
terms of charismatic legitimation, whereas Paul
claims that an apostle
rests
on a wholly other and superior sort of legitimation
than these charis-
matic preachers.
The Didache as well bears witness to
a body of prophets within the larger
church
communities. These must have been a familiar experience to com-
mand the space and
attention of so brief a manual of church order and
teaching.
The practice of itinerant charismatics was to move
from church
to
church, receive up to three days' provisions, and move on. If such a one
were
to stay longer, that one was to be regarded as a fraud (a parasite like
Engels'
Peregrinus). While there were several tests
prescribed for these
itinerant
charismatics to determine whether they were true or
false, there
THE SOCIAL SETTING OF
REVELATION 285
was
considerable carte blanche given to
them while speaking "in a trance."
As
long as they asked for neither food nor money while in the Spirit, the
community
was "on no account to subject such a one to any tests or ver-
ifications," for
"every sin shall be forgiven, but this sin shall not be for-
given"
(Did. 11).
The license of the prophet, as well as
his or her authority to speak, was,
at
least according to this teaching, guarded by the very threat of the sin
against
the Holy Spirit, in which Spirit the charismatic prophet was pre-
sumed to speak. It
appears all the more likely that John the Seer would have
belonged
to this group of prophets. He understood his ministry to be to the
seven
churches cited in Rev 1:11, which were conveniently enough ar-
ranged
for an itinerant mission. Given the spacing, one might suspect it was
more
a horseshoe circuit than a full circle (the hundred miles between
along
which the prophet went back and forth, encouraging the churches to
keep
a pure faith and pure walk in that faith, as he defined pure. There
were
rival preachers who gained a hearing in these same churches, and
John's
words to
this
context.
Just how John found himself on
remains
a matter of dispute. The traditional view, cited in Eusebius, is that
John
was exiled to
activity
in the churches, but later returned and continued on in his work
into
Trajan's reign (Hist. eccl. 2.20).
This view has been recently challenged
by
Thompson, who is so completely convinced that no persecution of Chris-
tians as Christians
occurred under Domitian that to conceive of an exiled
prophet
is impossible. We are grateful to his debunking of the familiar
picture
of
he
notes that there is no record of a penal colony on
evidence
for an Artemis cult and two gymnasia.41 Here the work of Saffrey
is
also helpful. Meticulously piecing together evidence from inscriptions, he
concludes
that Patmos was a phrourion
of
the
frontier of the Milesian territory.42 Hemer has also noted that the
traditional
assignation of the sentence to Domitian by Tertullian is unlikely
(although
not impossible, as Domitian is said to have passed through
Minor
on the way to
Nevertheless, Thompson's argument
loses force on both a grammatical
and
judicial consideration. Thompson presses hard to explain John's pres-
ence on
e]geno<mhn
to mean "I arrived," and argues that the preposition dia< is
purposive
here, not causal, thus "I arrived on
41 Thompson, Revelation, 173.
42 H. D. Saifrey, "Relire
1'Apocalypse a
43 Hemer, Letters,
29.
286
Word
of God and the testimony of Jesus."44 It is difficult to see
how the verb
may
be stretched in this way, even though gi<nomai
is a most flexible verb.
While
the meaning "to have arrived" is allowed in BAGD when used with
the
preposition e]pi<, the verb appears in Rev 1:9
with the preposition e]n.
With
regard to the preposition dia<,
Yarbro Collins notes that it is always
causative,
never purposive.45 Thus John was on
activity
connected with the Word of God and testimony of Jesus.
Suetonius and other historians of
with
the sentences of relegatio ad insulam
and deportatio ad insulam,
the practice
of
removing certain potentially dangerous persons from their sphere of
influence
to some significantly distant island in order to curtail their activ-
ities. Given John's
attitude about the
tives, not to mention
the social consequences of following his exhortations,
it
would not be at all surprising, nor even really blameworthy from a
political
point of view, to remove this prophet from his circuit and relegate
him
to some sufficiently distant island within the province.
certainly
be an option, although it was not a completely effective means of
stopping
his mouth, so to speak. Saffrey finds an island with
a military
garrison
on it to be a very appropriate place for removing a troublesome
preacher:
Que cette nouveaute ait provoque de l'agitation dans les milieux juifs de la ville
[de Milet], comme partout ailleurs dans les cites grecques de l'Asie, et que 1'a-
gitateur ait ete eloigne
de la cite et garde en residence surveillee
dans un lieu
commode pour cela,
une ile minuscule ou l'on n'avait
rien a redouter de son zele
intempestif, rien de plus naturel.46
In sum, we have in John an itinerant
prophet who exercised his ministry
along
the circuit of the seven churches listed in Rev 1:11. While he may in
fact
be the apostle John whom Jesus called, he does not appear to rely on
apostolic
authority to deliver the word from the Lord to the churches. He
anchored
the message in the charismatic legitimation afforded
by relating
it
through visions and oracles from the risen Lord and the Spirit of God. It
appears
from the practice of the early church that such would have gained
him
an almost unconditional hearing, though of course not every prophet's
every
message is received, let alone followed, by the community he or she
addresses.
At some point prior to the composition of the Apocalypse, John
was
removed from his circuit to the
as,
potentially, a politically dangerous dissident.
III. Social Tensions in the Seven Oracles
We turn now to an examination of
Revelation 2 and 3, the so-called
"seven
letters" to the seven churches. Mounce notes
that these seven
44 Thompson, Revelation, 173.
45 A. Yarbro Collins,
Crisis and Catharsis (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1984) 55.
46 Saffrey, "Relire," 391.
THE SOCIAL
SETTING OF REVELATION 287
"letters"
resemble oracles from the prophets of Hebrew Scripture more
than
NT epistles,47 which accords well with the identification of John as
a
prophet.
These oracles are highly formalized, consisting of all or most of the
following
sections: address, Jesus' self-identification, commendation, re-
buke, exhortation,
warning, and promise. Scholars such as Hemer,
Charles,
and
Massyngberde Ford draw much from each section of each
letter to
contribute
to their reconstruction of the social setting of each church. Even
the
choice of attribute given to Jesus and content of each promise may thus
reflect
some social reality, whether architectural, institutional, or cultural.
This
present study will not compete with these commentators for compre-
hensiveness. Rather, it
will focus chiefly on those sections of Revelation
informing
our understanding of the social dimensions and particular con-
flicts at work:
conflicts within the churches, conflicts between them and
other
subgroups within the culture, and conflicts with the larger cultural
surroundings.
The focus will thus be on the commendations, rebukes, and
exhortations,
as these are the most revealing not only of these social forces
but
also of the prophet's agenda for the churches. Architectural and cultural-
historical
echoes are therefore often passed over.
Adela Yarbro
Collins has done the best work in terms of identifying the
different
strands and areas of social tension in the churches addressed by the
Apocalypse.
She uncovers four sources: (1) the relations between church
and
synagogue, (2) the relations between Christians and pagan society, (3)
hostility
towards
seven
oracles present a picture, however, which first asks the interpreter to
consider
the factors slightly differently. We would propose the following: (1)
the
hostility of the synagogue, (2) the external demand for conformity, (3)
the
internal threat of accommodation, and (4) the internal threat of dis-
tortion of the
counter-definitions that define communitas. This division may
represent
more John's analysis of the social situation, and so provide a
closer
key to the text itself, although Collins' argument is certainly not
disparaged
here as an assessment of the larger situation. Each of these four
sources
of tension will be examined in turn with regard to the content of the
oracles.
We consider here only the shape of things as they exist as the
church's
contemporary conditions at the time of writing or receiving the
Apocalypse,
and not yet the shape of things to come and the faithful re-
sponse to them as
contained in the author's analysis.
1.
Hostility of the Synagogue
The oracles to
against
the Jewish synagogue and the record of the synagogue's hostility
towards
the Christian churches. The sunagwgh<
is clearly represented as a
separate
social entity from the e]kklhsi<ai,
even lexically. We enter here
47 Mounce, Revelation,
84.
48 Collins, Crisis, 4-7.
288
upon
the problem of the need of Judaism during this period to consolidate
its
identity over against sectarian movements and the claim of the nascent
church
upon the title "True Israel," the body of those who were “Jews
inwardly,”
in Pauline terms, and thus the true chosen assembly. The rella-
tionship between the
church and the synagogue was thus especially strained
as
both groups were struggling with questions of preserving their identity
over
against the larger society, and the two groups had competing ideo-
logical
claims which, under the circumstances, made these two groups
hostile
towards one another.
The break between Christianity and
Judaism, as Cohen notes, was not
an
event so much as a process.49 Nevertheless, there were periods
within
that
process where the distinctions became more acute. Cohen argues that
the
birkat ha-minim, the so-called
"benediction" inserted into the synagogue
liturgy
which cursed all heretics and sectarians, was not an assault directed
at
Christians, particularly Jewish-Christians within the synagogue, in order
to
drive them out. It was, rather, an expression of the renewal of Jewish
identity
and unity and a denunciation of any sectarian movement which
would
threaten that solidarity.50 Nevertheless, such an inclusion into the
liturgy
may well reflect an attitude towards "sectarian" groups which
might
move the synagogues to act in a hostile manner and, one might say,
in
a cathartical manner against these groups.
The general denunciation of
sectarianism must necessarily include, re-
flect, and encourage
the particular incarnations of this attitude in partic-
ular denunciations
of particular sectarians. The sect of Jesus, the crucified
Messiah,
would be an appropriate recipient of this hostility, all the more as
the
members of this sect laid an exclusive claim to the name of “Jew” When
John
says that the members of the synagogue "who say they are Jews but
are
not, but are lying," it is clear that in his mind the identification “Jew”
is
reserved, at least spiritually, for the followers of Jesus.
This hostility from the synagogue
appears to have taken some penal
form,
at least in
testing
is related in some causal way to the "slander
of those who say that
they
are Jews," then we may see in Revelation the emergence of a complex
social
problem that could conceivably have severe consequences in the
years
ahead. It is generally agreed that Christians would have only begun
to
be endangered from official powers after it was made clear that these
were
no longer Jews. The Jewish people had received the favor of Augustus
in
the establishment of Judaism as a religio licita in the empire.
The Jewish
people
were thus allowed to practice their religion freely under imperial
rule
and were notably exempted from the usual requirements of the empire,
49 S. Cohen, From the Maccabees
to the Mishnah (Library of Early Christianity 7;
50 Ibid., 227.
THE SOCIAL SETTING OF
REVELATION 289
namely,
images of the emperor being imported for the purposes of extend-
ing the imperial cult as the vehicle
of assuring allegiance. Throughout the
empire,
Jewish citizens were free from such obligations and free to pursue
their
own religious devotions.
Where the aegis of Judaism is removed
from the Christian movement,
however,
so is the status of religio licita and
the relative safety of the new
religion
with respect to official intervention. In their fervor, therefore, to
absorb
sectarians within the synagogue or remove the recalcitrant ones, it
is
highly likely that Jewish propaganda made it clear what constituted
Jewishness. The rabbis'
thoughtful proceedings were claimed by the popu-
lar contingent in the sort of
energetic self-definition and consolidation, the
sort
of powerful investment in a given set of boundaries, which often in-
cludes denunciation of
those outside the boundaries. Identity is often most
basically
expressed in terms of "we are not they, they are not us." While
this
served the necessity of the times for Judaism, finally providing a solu-
tion to the turmoil
following the fall of
very
axis mundi of the religion, the
temple, it could easily have been re-
garded as
"slander" by the author of Revelation—dangerous slander at
that,
as it brought with it for the first time the attention of local authorities
towards
a potential newly illicit religion.
The particularly forceful and venomous
language employed in Revela-
tion, not far
different from that in the Gospel of John but a very far cry from
Paul's
earnest desire for his fellow Jews, seems to indicate that, in this
province
at least, the break is at last decisive and its full implications
beginning
to be felt. The denunciation of the synagogue and the promise
given
to the church at
them
and guarantee to make that love manifest to the synagogue both
speak
to a fresh and final sense of rejection and self-doubt.
2.
External Demands to Conform
The external demands are less
accessible through the oracles, as John's
concern
is not to delineate these so much as attack the internal components
that
advocate giving in to these pressures, even affirming that such would
remain
a faithful response. Two such external pressures are clearly in mind
in
Revelation, however, based on chap. 13 and what is generally known
about
business in pagan society. The first is, of course, the imperial cult, and
the
second, more immediate, is the ever-present economic pressure of the
trade
guilds.
Enough had been said with regard to
the imperial cult. There is no
evidence
to suggest that this has already become a widespread problem at
any
point in the first century, especially as the Romans have hitherto been
vague
about the relationship of Jews and Christians. The two groups tend
to
be grouped together, most notably in the accounts of the riot among
290
“Jews”
over some leader named “Chrestus” (read, Christus), resulting in
the
expulsion of all ethnic Jews from
The former amnesty that had been
provided through Roman laxness
with
regard to theological distinctions between Jewish sectarian move-
ments and, of course,
to determining for themselves when a sect ceased to
be
Jewish appears to have evaporated, however. The synagogue has taken
up
this task and the Christian assemblies clearly stand outside the walls of
Judaism,
however obstinately they cling to the title “Jew” Once the dis-
tinction was made and
publicized in some form by the "slander of those
who
say that they are Jews," the danger of being exposed to the demands
of
the imperial cult was near, and conflict would be inevitable.
Pliny noted well that Christians
"could not be induced" to "curse
Christ."
Paul had said more than fifty years before to the Corinthians that
“no
one can say by the Spirit of God, a]na<qema ]Ihsou?j.” Moffatt had
noted
insightfully that the imperial cults presented the problem of con-
flicting claims, ku<rioj Kai?sar and ku<rioj ]Ihsou?j. Here, perhaps for the
first
time, the church would face the challenge of making the ancient con-
fession in the face of
the consequence of being judged guilty of a political,
criminal
offense and pay for it with one's life. This would certainly lift up
the
imperial cult in John's concern far above the other pagan cults.
Before the break with Judaism was
finalized, neither the pagan cultic life
nor
the imperial cult would be forced on the Christian. Now that there was
every
indication that Roman confusion with regard to the distinction be-
tween Jew and
Christian would be quickly resolved, it was the political
cult,
the cult with the power of life and death because administered by the
local
governor, which stood out as the place of a decisive standoff. When
would
it happen? These things would "shortly come to pass," according to
John,
and the astute social analyst was quite correct. Within fifteen years,
confessing
or cursing Christ, offering or not offering incense to the image of
the
emperor "as to a god," would become a life and death issue, a con-
scientious and rigorous
trial, almost inquisition, for the Christian commu-
nities in
While Revelation 13 looks forward to
an inevitable clash of confessions,
made
a possibility by the recent consolidation of Judaism over against
sectarianism,
the present situation presupposed by Revelation 2 and 3 con-
cerns the trade
guilds and the question of Christian involvement with the
guilds'
ceremonies, which revolved around the cultic sacrifice to the patron
deity
(and no doubt to the emperor) and partaking in the sacrifice, and thus
the
"god," in a common meal. While the former issue is political, the
latter
issue
is economic and social. This presupposition is based on an identifi-
cation of the internal
tensions reflected by Balaamites, Nicolaitans,
and
Jezebel,
and on what is known generally about economic life in Hellenistic
cities.
The question appears much earlier in
the history of the Christian move-
ment within Paul's
Gentile mission. In
THE SOCIAL SETTING OF
REVELATION 291
focus
as the question of whether or not to eat food sacrificed to idols, evoking
one
answer from a prominent party within the congregation that "an idol
is
nothing," and so partaking of such food can carry no spiritual value,
beneficial
or detrimental. Paul divides the issue into several parts, the first
concerning
whether or not to eat at the tables in the idol's temple, the
second
concerning buying food on the open market, and the third con-
cerning eating what is
set before one as an invited guest at someone's
residence.51
It is the question reflecting the social considerations which
interests
us here.
The practice of eating of the food
sacrificed to the idol at tables within
the
temple does not simply reflect cultic activity. "In the
time,
such meals were still the regular practice both at state festivals and
private
celebrations of various kinds."52 Such common meals were an im-
portant aspect of the
life of the trade guilds of a particular city. It was a
social
occasion gathered around the guild's symbol of their patron deity,
religious
only insofar as the individual's commitment to the guild and the
solidarity
of the guild were expressed and reenacted in religious form. Mod-
ern labor and trade unions have
found another language, but represent a
similar
social body.
Membership in one or another guild was
very important for economic
survival,
all the more so as we recall the widely held view that early Chris-
tianity was comprised
largely of artisans and craftspersons. The issue, of
course,
was how far one could compromise one's dedication to Christ as
Lord
for the sake of economic survival. Christians did not live in ghettoes,
but
among the pagan society.53 As they could not form an effective com-
mune, they had to
come to terms with how to live at peace with their
environment
while remaining faithful.
Some in
peril
to the spiritual state of the believer. Those who knew "that an idol is
nothing"
could simply live out of that knowledge in their freedom. Paul,
however,
did not share that view. The outward witness of allegiance to
Christ
had to be preserved for him, and so nothing which could be inter-
preted as
"partaking of the table of demons" was allowed, despite what
economic
hardships such a course of action would bring. John, like Paul,
could
not conceive of any assimilation in form to pagan society apart from
assimilation
in actuality. The public acknowledgment of the idol, as surely
as
the confession that "Caesar is Lord," was a public denial of Jesus,
which
brings
us to a consideration of the internal tensions faced by the commu-
nities and addressed
by John.
51 Gordon Fee, The First Epistle to the Corinthians
(NICNT; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987)
360.
52 Ibid., 361.
53 J. Moffatt, "Revelation," in The Expositor's Greek Testament (5 vols.;
mans,
1990) 5.357.
292
3.
Internal Tension—the Gospel of
Accommodation
The oracles to
of
the congregations to "false teachers" in one form or another. John delin-
eates false apostles,
Nicolaitans, disciples of Balaam, and followers of
Je-
zebel. Exactly where
the distinction between heterodox teaching and
unworthy
practice is to be made is not at once clear. The oracles to
and
it
appears, it is not being preached and debated—it is simply being lived.
John's
attitude towards the other five churches is one of sympathy, com-
mending
their patient endurance through laboring and tribulation, pre-
sumably results of
their attempts to follow a faithful response within their
environment.
with
no opening word of commendation for any attempt made to remain
faithful
to "the testimony of Jesus" in the face of social pressure.
John commends the church at
selves
apostles but are not," for the church has "found them to be
false"
(Rev
2:2). The community has effectively defended what it regards as the
"gospel"
against the perversion of that message through "another gospel"
(Gal
1:6). Here John exhibits his first concern with regard to keeping the
internal
boundaries clear and the counter-definitions of the communitas
fixed.
The internal definitions cannot bear attack and change at such a
crucial
time of external social pressure.
"False apostles" appear not
to be the greatest internal threat, however.
These
appear once, and as effectively blocked and excluded. The attention
given
to the Nicolaitans, and the attitude taken towards
them, indicates
that
here we have a present and persuasive threat to the boundaries and
definitions
of the communities. These, along with those "who hold to the
teaching
of Balaam" and the followers of “Jezebel, who calls herself a
prophetess,”
are all depicted as morally deficient—they "eat food sacri-
ficed to idols and
commit fornication" (Rev 2:14; 2:20). In light of the
situation
described concerning the economic pressures of trade guilds, and
in
light of the fact that "teaching" (didaxh<) is used with
regard to the
activities
of the Nicolaitans and Balaam, these groups must also
represent
a
doctrinal affront to the communities, or at least to John. Indeed, Yarbro
Collins
insightfully declares that these represent another group of itinerant
prophets
who present an alternative interpretation of the gospel and there-
fore
an alternative response to the social order vying with John's for "canon-
ization" as the
"faithful" response.54
Drane and
others have viewed the Nicolaitans as a Gnostic
group.55 No
doubt
this position derives from the two references to Nicolaitans
in Ire-
naeus and Clement of
Alexandria. Irenaeus (Adv. Haer. 1.26.3) only says
54 Collins,
Crisis, 88.
55 Drane, Early
Christians, 128.
THE SOCIAL SETTING OF
REVELATION 293
that
this group lives "a life of unrestrained indulgence," specifically
eating
food
sacrificed to idols and practicing sexual immorality, "for which the
Word
speaks of them as hated." It seems quite conceivable from this por-
trait,
however, that Irenaeus himself only knows about the
sect from the
references
in Revelation 2 and 3, as his picture adds nothing to this and
even
refers to the passages (as "the Word"). Clement (Stromata 3.4) speaks
of
a legend concerning Nicolas, one of the seven deacons of Acts 6, who
remarked
once that "the flesh must be treated with contempt," a phrase
which
he meant as instruction towards guarding against jealousy, but
which
the Nicolaitans took up as a call to demonstrate
contempt for the
flesh
through moral abuses. Here, however, Clement is clearly speaking in
refutation
of a contemporary group, and the whole argument reflects an
unhistorical
development of tradition. It is probable that later Gnostic
groups
invented the tale as part of the "secret teachings" and found in the
Nicolaitans heroes who were
suppressed by the "children of darkness."
The question has been raised whether
or not to regard the Nicolaitans
apart
from the disciples of Balaam and Jezebel. The common content of
their
teaching, at least its effects as described by John, suggests a close link
between
these groups and figures. Moreover, as Moffatt notes,
niko-laoj
(the
first root referring to conquering, the second meaning "people") is a
rough
Greek equivalent for Mf flK ("he wears
out the people"), suggesting
an
identity of these groups.56 The syntax will bear regarding the Nico-
laitans as the
manifestation of those who follow the teaching of Balaam. The
OT
portraits of Balaam and Jezebel afford the best key to their position and
therefore
threat to John.
Balaam blesses
narrative
does not dominate his memory. Rather, the short and obscure
reference
in Num 31:16 remained his epitaph. The name of Balaam, son of
Beor, was attached
to the apostasy of
25:1-3,
wherein the Israelites "began to play the harlot with the daughters
of
tion to bow down to
their gods and eat of their sacrifices. The rabbinic
tradition
preserves a reference to the disciples of Balaam as the opposite of
the
disciples of Abraham ('Abot 5.29). Balaam became thus a figure for
apostasy,
the false teacher, and is particularly connected with teaching the
Midianites to convince the
Israelites to "eat food sacrificed to idols and
practice
immorality." The Deuteronomic danger associated
with this is loss
of
identity as the "people of God," becoming indistinguishable from the
nations
around them. Against this threat the purity codes and ceremonial
law
sought to defend. The great threat was the threat of syncretism, and
thus
of losing ethnic and religious identity, and consequently losing the
blessing
and promise of God.
56 Moffatt, "Revelation," 352.
294
John casts the Nicolaitans
as "disciples of Balaam," an especially appro-
priate choice as the
issue again appears to be a literal participation in the
sacrifices
to pagan deities,57 an element of membership in the trade guilds.
Some
commentators regard the practice of fornication as part of the en-
tertainment of these
feasts, but one must hold the spiritual dimension
clearly
in mind as well, namely, forsaking a faithful relationship to Jesus,
Indeed,
the symbols of virgin and harlot in Revelation are best understood
in
these terms, rather than being reduced to a glorification of celibacy and
asceticism.
The asceticism for which John calls is not, as Troeltsch
would
say
with regard to the Catholic Church, against sensuality, but rather, as
Troeltsch would say with
regard to sectarian movements, against partici-
pation in the
world." It is a lifestyle asceticism, an asceticism of allegiance
reserved
for the Lord and the communitas.
The Nicolaitans,
then, advocated accommodation to the society. It is not
inconceivable
that their teaching descends from the Corinthians' notion
that
"an idol is nothing," and therefore participation in an idol feast
would
be
without spiritual significance. If it were thus no denial of the gospel, nor
affront
to the lordship of Jesus, why should the Christian community suffer
economic
hardship and even social ostracism? The way for the community
to
survive would be through accommodation in form while preserving the
essential
meaning unharmed, or else the community would simply be com-
pletely marginalized
and eventually could no longer survive.
It was obviously a persuasive
argument, as the Nicolaitans gained no-
table
ground in
Jezebel
in the Hebrew Scriptures affords some light on our “Jezebel, who
calls
herself a prophetess.” Jezebel supported materially the prophets of
Baal
in
tification with them and
obvious endorsement of them, she became a virtual
prophet
of Baal herself. John may be indicting, therefore, a woman of
prominence
who has opened her house to the Nicolaitan prophets,
sup-
porting
them in the same way as others supported John in his itinerant
ministry.
As so many women of means in the early
church, such as were able to
open
up their houses to churches and apostles, she no doubt was an im-
portant figure and
voice in the Thyatirian assembly. For both
theological
and
economic reasons, she advocates the stance preached by the Nico-
laitans concerning how
to relate with the pagan society and its pressures for
the
sake of the survival of the community. Those who "commit adultery
with
her" and "her children" are violently threatened and condemned
by
John
in this oracular denunciation precisely for their compliance with her
way
of thinking, for embracing an open relationship with the pagan society.
57
Mounce, Revelation, 98.
58 E. Troeltsch, The Social
Teaching of the Christian Churches (2 vols.;
1931)
1.332.
THE SOCIAL SETTING OF REVELATION 295
Mounce, citing Caird, concludes that "the sum total of the Nicolaitans'
offense
is that they took a laxer attitude than John to pagan society and
religion."59
This laxer view, however, came at a dangerous time for the
community,
a time when the social pressures were mounting in a way that
the
Nicolaitans did not see, which could result in total
absorption of the
Christian
communitas
into the pagan environment if the boundaries were not
fortified.
Such, at least, was John's analysis.
The examination of tensions surrounding
wealth and deprivation carried
out
by Collins provides a window into the broader social tensions surround-
ing the communities addressed by
Revelation.60 John, however,
has a dif-
ferent perspective on
wealth and poverty, calling for examination. There is
a
sociological reason for his attitude towards wealth, grounded in a theo-
logical
one, but it is not the one commonly attributed to the hostility of the
poor
against the rich.
and
conspicuous consumption. The city lacked for nothing until the day of
its
visitation, as it were. From our discussion above, it seems clear that the
only
road to riches was the way of accommodation and compromise. When
the
boundaries of the community could be abrogated, the members of the
community
could freely participate in the pagan economy, in league with
however,
because, on the one hand,
blood
of the saints who held up an alternative definition of life, and, on the
other
hand, material prosperity had been purchased at the cost of main-
taining "the
testimony of Jesus."
The oracle to
reconstructing
the city's setting and conditions. It is intriguing that John
felt
that
as
if to say that the church and society shared everything in common and
that
there was no basis on which to address the church in terms which the
whole
society would not share. The appeal to the images of the lukewarm
and
nauseating water forming their water supply, the medical achieve-
ments of the school
in the city, and the civic sense of pride in their riches
and
need for nothing (an allusion to the city's ability to rebuild itself only
thirty
years earlier without imperial aid),61 all depict the Laodicean Chris-
tians first as Laodicean citizens. From this posture they are called to
trade
in
their civic identity for a renewed Christian identity.
They are to trade in their shame in Laodicean wool for white garrnents,
their
riches for the "gold tried in the fire," and their pride in their
medical
school
for "eyesalve" so that they might see their
peril as John sees it. In
all
this, it is their pride in their wealth— "for you say, I am rich, I have
59 Mounce, Revelation,
98.
60 Collins, Crisis, 94.
61 Mounce, Revelation,
123.
296
prospered,
and I need nothing'"—which John attacks as the source of their
spiritual
condition. The response of the Lord to those who remain in this
condition
will be to "vomit [them] out of my mouth." This "wealth"
John
calls
"poor" and "wretched" (Rev 3:17), while for their poverty
John calls
the
Smyrnean assembly "rich."
Here the true nature of the tension
between wealth and poverty in John's
mind
reveals itself to be precisely that, in the social situation, wealth at-
taches itself to
accommodation and assimilation, while poverty attaches
itself
to those who seek to maintain the boundaries against the external
social
pressures, and who thus have no defense against economic embar-
goes.
John considers that the economic pressures will only increase now that
the
official status of Christians is becoming manifest as a religio illicita, hence
the
boycott on buying and selling without the mark of the beast envisioned
in
chapter thirteen and noted as such as early as Engels.62 The
churches
cannot
be allowed to believe the societas'
definition of what constitutes desir-
able
wealth. Only if they accept John's attribution of true wealth to the
faithful
who suffer economic hardship and social ostracism for the sake of
the
"testimony of Jesus" will the churches survive the economic pressures
that
will rise along with the political pressures in the decades to come. For
this
reason,
most
tender promise.
IV. Social Definition—the Church as Communitas
The term communitas has been applied to
the Christian communities, or
e]kklhsi<ai,
throughout this study for it is particularly appropriate to the
social
nature of the church within the context of the larger environment,
referred
to as societas.
It has been assumed as a technical term, and it is now
time
to define more precisely what it signifies.
Peter Berger has given significant
theoretical background to the under-
standing
of the early church's situation. "To be in culture means to share
in
a particular world of objectives with others," these objectives having
their
origin in the process of objectification.63 "It is well-nigh
impossible in
the
long run to keep up alone and without support one's own counter-
definitions
of the world."64 Along these lines, we can depict the Christian
communities
as sharing in a set of objectives, namely, the worldview, view
of
history, and hope contained in the eu]agge<lion, but this set
of objectives
is
different from the set of objectives shared by the larger,
"outsider,"
non-Christian
society. The church is thus a body which serves as a "plau-
sibility structure"
for the "counter-definitions" of reality.
62 Engels, On Religion, 340.
63 P. Berger, The Sacred Canopy (New York: Doubleday,
1967) 10.
64 Ibid., 39.
THE SOCIAL SETTING OF
REVELATION 297
Berger
speaks of the "apotheosis" of the nomic
constructions which up-
hold
the larger society, that is, the complete objectification of the pagan
worldview
into the cosmic realm.65 "The ruler speaks for the gods, or is
a
god,
and to obey him is to be in a right relationship with the world of the
gods."66
The
cult,
the political institution expressed in religious form. This was an es-
sential part of the
definitions of reality, together with the many cults to
pagan
deities, which gave order, form, and meaning to the societas.
The
Christian
communities, however, espoused a set of meanings that denied
the
objectives of the society, and so became a deviant subgroup, a foreign
body
within the larger body, participating in an alternate definition of
reality.
Thompson cites Berger's classification
of "public" and "deviant" knowl-
edge
as a key to understanding Revelation:
When compared to that "public
knowledge" transmitted through institutions,
myths, and rituals involving the town
fathers and their social order, the Book of
Revelation reveals "deviant
knowledge": that is, its knowledge deviates from the
knowledge given and generally taken for
granted in the social order. . . . It is
deviant in its source, . . . in its
assessment of the social order, . . . and in its
cosmology.67
The
Christian communities had from the very beginning been called into
existence
through the revelation of this "deviant knowledge" and so
stepped
out of the world and definitions of the societas and into the world
and
definitions of a communitas.
The preaching of Paul called people to live
between
the accomplished resurrection of the crucified Lord and the return
of
this risen Lord at which return all the faithful would share in the resur-
rected life. He called
them to live under a set of definitions (which others
have
called doctrines) which turned the society's attitude towards death
and
the present life on its head and also rearranged the focal points of
history
around the figure of Jesus. The communitas was thus called into a new
set
of norms and called to follow a new set of behaviors and values attaching
to
those norms.
It became what Bainbridge and Stark
might have analyzed as a "sect"
in
terms of its new relationship to the society.68 True, there was no
real
"church"
figure against which to measure it (not even Judaism) any more,
but
this is precisely why Bainbridge and Stark's work is so much more
valuable
than the work of Troeltsch. Sectarian tendencies are
manifested
with
regard to the surrounding society, and not only with regard to other
religious
bodies claiming the same religious heritage. The early church
65 Ibid., 27.
66 Ibid., 34.
67 Thompson, Revelation, 181.
68 W. S.
Bainbridge and R. Stark, "Sectarian Tension," Review of Religious Research 22 (1980)
122.
298
quickly
came to the point where it felt the mutual rejection of sect and
society,
as early as the Corinthians began to address the issue of member-
ship
in trade guilds and participation in idol feasts. For them it was an issue
of
maintaining relations with the societas.
The preachers of the
counter-definitions such as Paul, however, engi-
neered social
boundaries to coincide with the boundaries of the worldviews.
Thus
began the spiral of increasing hostility which later won for the Chris-
tians (as indeed the
orthodox Jews as well, who shared the basic status of
communitas in the diaspora) the charges of Manic, "godlessness,"
for their
rejection
of the gods of the pagan ko<smoj, and
"haters of the human race"
for
their antisocial behavior, most likely in regard to nonparticipation in
trade
guild and civic feasts and festivals.
The communitas comes to a period of
consolidation. External pressures are
perceived
to be very great, and indeed the circumstances indicated in the
seven
oracles, including the martyr Antipas, the firstfruits,
as it were, sup-
port
this perception. The communities are faced with an important ques-
tion—how to survive
through the situation. The question is one of identity,
or
of definition, and one of action. The Nicolaitans have
presented one
appealing
option. These have apparently redefined the mythos of the gospel
so
as to allow for a course of action which will lead the communities back
towards
a peaceable and profitable relationship with the society.
V. Social Significance of John's Desired Effects
John the prophet finds something
particularly threatening in the teach-
ing of the Nicolaitans.
Their path appears to him an internal weakening of
the
underpinnings of the worldview of the communitas, a path which would
lead
to a blurring of the distinctions between community and society and
the
eventual absorption of the community into the society. True to the same
line
of thought and social action that guided Paul in a period of expansion,
John
insists that the life of the church as communitas must be preserved over
against
the life of the societas.
John's program consists of a purging of the
communities
of elements of internal innovation and suggestions of com-
promise,
and a fortification of the boundaries through a re-presentation of
the
essential elements of the counter-definitions and its assessment of the
social
order (cf. Revelation 17 and 18). Based on this, he can call for a
response
of heightened energy against the external pressures to conform,
both
the present economic pressure and the soon-to-be-manifested political
pressure.
In this interpretation, apocalyptic
Christianity in John is not divorced
from
its appearance in Paul. The social assessment is much the same, only
more
forcefully portrayed in John (cf. 1 Cor 1:18-25; 2 Cor 2:15; 4:18; 5:7),
and
the basic parts of the worldview and view of history coincide. The
THE SOCIAL SETTING OF
REVELATION 299
difference
is in the social conditions of the Pauline mission and the pro-
vincial churches at the
end of century. What was once a movement in
expansion
is now faced with the crisis of consolidation, made necessary by
the
manifestation of the break with the synagogue to Roman officials. The
pressures
upon Paul and his communities were considerable, but not crush-
ing. For John, the matter has gained
considerable gravity, and the escala-
tion of the
hostility demanded an escalation of the boundaries and stronger
social
interpretation of the opposing forces, society and community.
John
must be considered a true prophet in the Weberian
sense, even upon
the
crucial point, namely, that a prophet announces a break with the
established
order.69 John does not originate this break, but the need for
deciding
for a new break or a stance of continued break with society is
present
and John's is the voice announcing it. His call to sustain the liminal
existence
of the communitas
is a prophetic call.
Berger noted the need for plausibility
structures if one wished to main-
tain the
plausibility of any worldview.70 These plausibility structures are
in
fact
social structures subscribing to the worldview. For John, then, the
commitment
to maintain the communitas
would be equivalent to holding fast
to
the norms and definitions of the gospel, for were the communitas to be
assimilated
into the societas,
the counter-definitions would no longer have
any
plausibility structure upon which to rest—no social body subscribing
to
them. The call to maintain communitas became a call to remain faithful
to
the risen Lord, and the result of remaining faithful to the risen Lord
would
be the continued commitment to communitas.
A sect begins as and remains a
voluntary community, according to
Troeltsch, "formed
by awareness of stepping out of ordinary social, eco-
nomic, and religious
associations and by individual commitment to the
‘body’."71
The task for the prophet is to motivate continued commitment
to
the body and excite desire to remain outside of those formerly ordinary
associations.
He does this in part by communicating the called-for response
in
terms of salvation. Salvation, or "personal legitimation
which is in ac-
cord
with the ultimate standards," which are in fact "in essential
conflict
with
the institutionalized worldly order,"72 is gained by holding
fast, by not
denying
the name, and by rejecting the innovations introduced by the
Nicolaitans (Rev 2:10, 22,
25; 3:8). The Apocalypse is not a theodicy in its
primary
sense of offering an explanation for why faithful behavior is visited
with
evil. Instead, it turns these apparent frustrations of the order into
expectations.
The one who is faithful is to expect suffering and even death
as
a result. There is, however, the promise attached to this behavior in every
oracle,
and of course in the vision of the Heavenly Jerusalem at the con-
clusion of the book.
69 M. Weber, The Sociology of Religion (Boston:
Beacon, 1963) xxxv.
70 Berger, Canopy, 45.
71 Troeltsch, Social
Teaching 1.339-40.
72 Weber, Sociology, xlix.
300
Berger offers an explanation of the
"good death" as dying "while re-
taining to the end a
meaningful relationship with the nomos of one's so-
ciety—subjectively
meaningful to oneself and objectively meaningful in t:he
minds
of others."73 For this reason, Moffatt
is correct when he points to the
actions
of the deiloi<
of and a@pistoi, the
"cowards" and "faithless ones,"
who
bear witness to the meaning of the nomos of the
society and deny the
meaningfulness
of the counter-definitions of the community.74 The nomos
is
only as plausible as it stands in the face of death. Therefore the highest
ideal
for John is that of the martyr, the "witness" (ma<rtuj), who expresses
commitment
to the definitions of the community at great cost, even at the
price
of dying.
One might ask whether or not Berger's
concept of alienation comes into
play
here. Is the self identified with the socialized self (that is, socialized iin
the
community's counter-definitions) to the point where freedom of choice
is
restricted and personal action appears a function of necessity? John seems
to
call for this sort of identification when he rejects the options for personal
action
presented by the Nicolaitans, along with the preachers
themselves.
Through
the Apocalypse he teaches the churches not to regard these as
options
at all, but only the faithfulness unto death, the one response of
the
faithful.
John's desire to excite this sort of
commitment to the communitas
was not
without
clear social significance. He attributes to the posture of "holding
fast"
and "not denying" the absolute value of "overcoming," of
victory
over
the world. Was this what fed the Christian's resolve as she or he stood
before
Pliny neither denying the name nor submitting, which resolve he
punished
simply as contumacia?
Nevertheless, such a confrontation main-
tained the identity
and counter-definitions of the Christian communitas
most
effectively
against the society's offer of "recantation."
To this end, John focused not only on
individual commitment and de-
cision, but also on
the important need for reminder. Berger situates the
origin
of liturgy in this need of people to be reminded of the cosmic order
undergirding
the society.75 Yarbro Collins insightfully
discerns how this is
operative
in the Apocalypse as well. The Apocalypse aims at the liturgy of
the
church and on its own incorporation into the worship life of the com-
munity.76
The book itself is full of hymns and litanies of one sort or another,
such
as the litany of the fall of
God
and the Lamb in Rev 4:8; 5:9-12; 11:17-18; and 15:3-4. Indeed,
several
of these have survived into the canticles of the Protestant Episcopal
Church,
in the Order for Morning Prayer. That the whole book may have
functioned
thus is evident from the opening benediction upon the one who
reads
and those who hear.
73 Berger, Canopy, 44
74 Moffatt, "Revelation," 312.
75 Berger, Canopy, 40.
76 A. Yarbro Collins, "The Revelation of John," CurTM 8 (1981)
12.
THE SOCIAL
SETTING OF REVELATION 301
The Apocalypse represents more than a
single appeal, in all likelihood.
The
initial resolve of the recipients to "hold fast," that is, to remain
faithful
to
the counter-definitions of the communitas and bear this witness before the
authorities
of the societas,
receives regular support through the incorpora-
tion of the work
into the liturgical life of the communities. The prophetic
work
of John might thus have its most far-reaching effect on the church,
serving
the function of evoking the hearers' commitment to continuing and
fortifying
the identity of communitas
over against the societas,
thus to main-
tain their
unconditional allegiance to the God revealed in Christ against
both
the coercive and seductive drives towards compromise with the im-
perial world.
VI. Social Function of the Apocalypse
The trend in scholarship that regards
apocalyptic consistently as a re-
sponse to suffering
and persecution will no longer afford fruitful results.
This
trend has seen in the stark dualism and other-worldly promises of
apocalyptic
literature a hopelessness for this world, even a relinquishing of
hope
for defeating the enemy of the faith this side of death.
As we have seen in John's Apocalypse,
however, the language of complete
renunciation
of participation in and hope for the world applies only to the
external
pressures of the societas.
What is called for, however, is complete
commitment
to participation in the communitas
and its hope. The aim of the
Apocalypse
is the preservation of the communitas in all its social distinctive-
ness
alongside the societas.
The Apocalypse calls for the consolidation of the
community's
identity in a particular way, one that is most interested in
preserving
the counter-definitions (the internal boundaries) and the exclu-
sive participation
of those who subscribe to them. It thus enunciates those
definitions
once more and interprets the social situation so as to call for a
response
aiming at strengthening the boundaries and leading to the pres-
ervation of the
plausibility structure, the communitas. The importance of the
other-worldly
hope and the deliverance from the "second death" is that
these
enable the members of the community to choose the course of action
and
maintain the set of definitions that keep the communitas' identity and
boundaries
clear, and so preserve the life of the community as well as its
message
(gospel, or counter-definitions).
The Apocalypse functions., therefore,
not as theodicy. It is not the at-
tempt
of John the Seer to console the churches regarded by him as his field
of
ministry. It is not the attempt to fit meaningless suffering into some
meaningful
cosmic order. The Apocalypse is a social challenge to the seven
churches
to maintain their liminal status against the mounting
external
pressures.
The Apocalypse is a call not to "give in" to the "powers that
be"
grounded
on the counter-proposal that these powers that are shall not be
forever,
and that therefore one may respond to the eternal Power, the Lord
Christ,
who stands at the heart of the community's counter-definitions.
302
John functions as a prophet, looking
at the recent developments in the
status
of the church now that the synagogue has made a decisive declara-
tion against
sectarianism. He perceives the shape of things to come, and
seeks
through the medium of apocalyptic to deliver a word of the Lord
which
will prepare the churches to meet the coming crisis effectively, that
is,
in such a way as to preserve communitas rather than to accommodate to
the
societas.
His Apocalypse is a call for radical, social action, for choosing
life
in the margins of society rather than assimilation.
: y
2960
|| Pope Shenouda || Father Matta || Bishop Mattaous || Fr. Tadros Malaty || Bishop Moussa || Bishop Alexander || Habib Gerguis || Bishop Angealos || Metropolitan Bishoy ||
|| The Orthodox Faith (Dogma) || Family and Youth || Sermons || Bible Study || Devotional || Spirituals || Fasts & Feasts || Coptics || Religious Education || Monasticism || Seasons || Missiology || Ethics || Ecumenical Relations || Church Music || Pentecost || Miscellaneous || Saints || Church History || Pope Shenouda || Patrology || Canon Law || Lent || Pastoral Theology || Father Matta || Bibles || Iconography || Liturgics || Orthodox Biblical topics || Orthodox articles || St Chrysostom ||
|| Bible Study || Biblical topics || Bibles || Orthodox Bible Study || Coptic Bible Study || King James Version || New King James Version || Scripture Nuggets || Index of the Parables and Metaphors of Jesus || Index of the Miracles of Jesus || Index of Doctrines || Index of Charts || Index of Maps || Index of Topical Essays || Index of Word Studies || Colored Maps || Index of Biblical names Notes || Old Testament activities for Sunday School kids || New Testament activities for Sunday School kids || Bible Illustrations || Bible short notes|| Pope Shenouda || Father Matta || Bishop Mattaous || Fr. Tadros Malaty || Bishop Moussa || Bishop Alexander || Habib Gerguis || Bishop Angealos || Metropolitan Bishoy ||
|| Prayer of the First Hour || Third Hour || Sixth Hour || Ninth Hour || Vespers (Eleventh Hour) || Compline (Twelfth Hour) || The First Watch of the midnight prayers || The Second Watch of the midnight prayers || The Third Watch of the midnight prayers || The Prayer of the Veil || Various Prayers from the Agbia || Synaxarium