9

THE WRATH OF THE LAMB

A BOOK DIPPED IN BLOOD

The book of Revelation stands out as an embarrassment to Christianity. The famed atheist Friedrich Nietzsche described the book as “the most rabid outburst of vindictiveness in all recorded history.”1 Historian James Carroll said, “In no text of the entire Bible is God’s violence, and the violence of Christ himself, more powerfully on display than in the … book of Revelation.”2 George Bernard Shaw dismissed the book as “a curious record of the visions of a drug addict.”3 Harsh words about a book inspired by God. But none of these opinions recognize the true beauty of Revelation. Revelation is a violent book, but as we will see, that violence is not dished out as much as it is absorbed.

Some interpreters see no problem with the violence in Revelation. One scholar described the second coming as a time when “Christ Himself will engage in actual, blood-shedding, life-taking warfare when He returns to set up His kingdom” and at the same time “instruct[s] His people to engage in that future warfare.”4 John MacArthur said, “Armageddon … will actually be a slaughter” of “millions of people engaged in the Battle of Armageddon,” and “it is the Lord Jesus Christ who crushes out their lives.”5 For pastor Mark Driscoll, the book of Revelation depicts Jesus as “a prize fighter with a tattoo down His leg, a sword in His hand and the commitment to make someone bleed.” And Driscoll found great comfort in this. “That is a guy I can worship. I cannot worship the hippie, diaper, halo Christ because I cannot worship a guy I can beat up.”6

Whether Driscoll could take Jesus in a cage fight, I cannot say. Ironically, my own view of Revelation used to be close to Driscoll’s. I remember teaching a class on ethics not long ago, and when we talked about the Jesus of the Gospels, I highlighted His nonviolent posture. “However,” I argued, “the Jesus of Revelation will slaughter His enemies, and their blood will soak His garments.” My students smiled with a sigh of relief while muttering heartfelt amens. After all, which American kid wants to worship a hippie, diaper, halo Jesus?

Unfortunately, I assumed I knew about this prizefighting Christ without actually studying the book of Revelation. I simply took it for granted that the Jesus of the Gospels was a pacifist, while the Jesus of Revelation was a UFC warrior.

Since teaching that class, I have studied Revelation and seen that although there’s a lot of bloodshed, it often flows from the veins of Christ and His followers, not from His enemies. In fact, Revelation supports Christian nonviolence more aggressively than any other biblical book. Nowhere does Revelation encourage the church to act violently. Human violence is always condemned, and suffering is exalted. Now, make no mistake: Jesus will return as Judge, and He will pour out His wrath. But the thought of a tatted, buffed-out, commando Jesus hacking His enemies to pieces with sadistic pleasure is nowhere to be found in Revelation. Jesus receives authority to judge His enemies because He first suffers by their hands as a slaughtered Lamb. In Revelation, victory belongs to victims, and Lamb-like warriors conquer their enemies by being conquered. That’s the theme of this bloody book.

READING REVELATION

Now, there is much debate over how to interpret Revelation. Since it would take too long to defend my approach, let me just state it up front. I do not think that Revelation is just a series of predictions of future events. Nor do I think that it should be read as a political cartoon, meant to depict first-century events. There’s some truth to both of these views. The book does talk about the future and about the first century, but it can’t be limited to one particular age. The book of Revelation, rather, lifts the curtain and exposes “the spiritual environment within which the church perennially finds itself living and struggling.”7 The wild images in the book, therefore, shouldn’t be mapped onto first-century or twenty-first-century events in a direct, one-to-one correspondence—the beast is Iran, the locusts are Chinese tanks, the whore of Babylon is Lady Gaga, or whatever. Rather, the images and otherworldly scenes depict the struggle Christians face as they live within—and resist—the oppressive empires of every era. In this sense, “Babylon” is Rome of the first century, but it’s also the Umayyad Empire, the Vikings, crusaders, Ottomans, Nazis, and every other Babel-like state that seeks global domination. God rules the earth. And in every age, His followers—the kingdom of God—find themselves struggling to live out God’s rule in the midst of earthly empires.

The first readers of Revelation felt this tension. When John pens the book, he sends it to a group of house churches strung along the western region of Asia Minor. Some of these churches (Smyrna, Philadelphia) are faithful to Christ and are therefore threatened by Rome. But other churches (the other five) are faithful to Rome and are therefore threatened by the risen King! Those who resisted the worldliness of Rome arouse localized persecutions8 while those who compromise with the empire remain affluent and safe.9 So around the year AD 90, Jesus appears to John, who has been exiled on the island of Patmos. Revelation records the vision Jesus gives John, which is designed to encourage the persecuted churches and confront the compromising churches in Asia Minor.

In short, there are two types of churches addressed in Revelation: the compromisers and the persecuted.

Now, even though Revelation is addressed to seven churches in the late first century, its message applies to churches of all ages. We can see this throughout Revelation 2–3, where every message to the churches concludes with the refrain: “He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.”10 Jesus is talking to you and me here. Whoever “has an ear” let him or her listen in on what Jesus is saying to these first-century churches.

Jesus therefore reveals to John a vision about what’s really going on behind the scenes. Revelation reshapes our perception of earthly events around the reality of the risen Christ, the slaughtered Lamb, the King of Kings.11 As far as the earthly eye can see, the beasts rule and the powerless saints are defeated by them. But as far as the heavenly eye can see, the saints have conquered the beasts through their suffering faithfulness. In the book of Revelation, perceived defeat is heavenly victory.

THE CLASH OF THE KINGDOMS

While some New Testament passages say that governing authorities reward good conduct and punish the bad (Rom. 13:1–7; see 1 Pet. 2:13–17), there’s no such positive language in the book of Revelation. None. Rome is not described as a benevolent ruler but a savage creature empowered by the Devil himself (Rev. 13:2). The state is explicitly called a “beast,” a “false prophet,” and a sensuous “whore.” All of these terms are collectively summed up by the term Babylon.

Babylon does not refer to the literal nation of Babylon across the desert but to the Roman Empire. Or in the words of Richard Bauckham, “Babylon … represents the corrupt and exploitative civilization of the city of Rome, supported by the political and military power of the empire.”12 However, even though Babylon refers primarily to Rome, its description fits all sorts of empires and nations that rival God’s rule on earth. Babylon is a symbol for “all authorities, corporations, institutions, structures, bureaucracies, and the like.”13 If the shoe fits, then wear it.

Throughout Revelation, kingdoms clash—the kingdom of God and the kingdom(s) of Babylon. The two exist side by side, but the church gives its allegiance to one. We may have earthly passports, but we should never feel totally at home in Rome: “Come out of her, my people,” shouts the angel, “lest you take part in her sins” (18:4). This clash of kingdoms is highlighted by many contrasting images.14 The triune God (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit) confronts the dragon, the beast of the sea, and the beast of the land.15 The city of Babylon is contrary to the New Jerusalem.16 The harlot clothed in purple persecutes a woman clothed with the sun.17 The throne of God conquers the throne of the beast.18 Followers of God are marked with a seal, while followers of the dragon are marked with the number of the beast.19 All of these contrasting images emphasize the overarching contrast between the kingdom of God and the kingdom of Babylon. And the book of Revelation reveals how the kingdom of God will conquer the kingdom of Babylon.

THE CONQUERING LAMB

Enter Driscoll’s prizefighting Jesus. The image of the conquering warrior-Christ is largely gleaned from Revelation 19, where Jesus’s clothes are dipped in blood, and He defeats His enemies with a sword. But as we will see, these images don’t overturn the Jesus of the Gospels. The main problem with Driscoll’s reading of Revelation 19 is that it fails to understand Revelation 1–18. Yes, Jesus will judge His enemies. But His authority to judge is attained by first being conquered by them. The suffering of Christ, His death on the cross, becomes the means by which Jesus slays the dragon. And the blood spattered on His garments comes not from His enemies—but from Himself.

The book of Revelation is all about how Jesus conquers Babylon. The word conquer (verb: nikao; noun: nike) conjures up images of military victory, and everyone in John’s world knows this.20 Homer’s Iliad is filled with warriors who “conquer” in battle, in wrestling matches, or in other athletic events. Maccabean warriors “conquered” their Greek overlords in battle. Homer sang about the war-god Ares, who had fathered the “warlike Nike.” Nike was the goddess of victory; her name means “conquer.”21

John also uses the verb nikao throughout Revelation to describe how Jesus has “conquered” the beastly empire and set up His own kingdom.22 But John uses the word differently: unlike the Roman rulers, Jesus conquers not with swords and spears but with a cross. The Lamb conquers by being conquered. In fact, whenever Jesus is the subject of the verb nikao in Revelation, it refers to His own death. Jesus conquers by dying.23 This is why John’s favorite image of Jesus is a “slaughtered Lamb,” which he uses twenty-eight times in the book. The Lamb conquers by being slaughtered, by hanging on a cross—the very symbol of Roman power. Perhaps Driscoll could take Jesus in a cage fight. After all, he already crucified Him.24

This backward way of conquering is depicted in Revelation 5, where God sits on the throne, holding a scroll sealed with seven seals. John begins to weep because no one has the authority to break the seals and open the scroll. But then John hears about a “Lion of the tribe of Judah” who alone is found worthy to open the scroll. The Lion has authority to open it because He “has conquered” (v. 5).

The Lion has conquered! No surprise here. That’s what lions do. They hunt their prey, roar with thunder, and mangle their foe like a rag doll. The lion is a symbol of brute power—conquering power—and it’s also the well-known Jewish image for the Messiah, the one who would come as a conquering king.25 But when John turns to look, he doesn’t see a lion. Instead, he sees a slaughtered Lamb (5:6). These two contrasting images of Lion and Lamb depict a single person—Jesus. And “the shock of this reversal discloses the central mystery of [Revelation]: God overcomes the world not through a show of force but through the suffering and death of Jesus.”26

The messianic Lion defeats evil by becoming a slaughtered Lamb.27

Weakness is power, victims are victorious, and slaughtered Lambs rule the world in this upside-down book. Jesus reigns because He conquered, not in a cage fight but on a cross.28 And through His own suffering, Jesus refashions our suffering into a conduit of divine power to continue the conquest—the conquest over Satan’s kingdom in Asia Minor and Rome; Sudan and Nigeria; Iraq and Moravia.

THE CONQUERING LAMBS

“The Lamb has conquered! Let us follow Him!” This was the battle cry of a group of wild-eyed Christians known as the Moravians, who evangelized many difficult areas from the fifteenth to eighteenth century. Intoxicated with missionary zeal, the Moravians ventured to hard-to-reach places to proclaim the kingship of Christ. And they went not despite suffering, but because of it. They believed—with John—that suffering for Christ was not defeat but victory. Victory over the dragon. Victory over the beast. The Lamb conquers by suffering, and He told His followers to pick up their crosses and die. Throughout Revelation we see a group of cross-carrying proto-Moravians “who follow the Lamb wherever he goes” (14:4). And the Lamb goes to the cross.

The term nikao is used ten times for Jesus’s followers. Most often, nikao refers to faithfulness unto death.29 Christians will overcome, not by fighting, not by killing, not by powerful coercion. Swords and spears and machine guns are insufficient means for ruling the world. This is the way the kings of the earth—those empowered by Satan—conquer.30 The followers of the Lamb conquer by means of divine power. Christians conquer by being killed (12:11).

In each letter to the seven churches of Revelation, Jesus exhorts believers to “conquer.” That is, worship Jesus and not Caesar; hold fast to the testimony of Christ even if it kills you. Because if you are killed, you win. You conquer. “Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life,” Jesus tells the believers at Smyrna (2:10). “The one who conquers will not be hurt by the second death” (v. 11). To the church at Pergamum, Jesus commends a saint named Antipas, since he was a “faithful witness, who was killed among you” (v. 13). Antipas conquered (v. 17). The ones who conquer in Thyatira will reign with Jesus (v. 26). The Sardis believers who conquer will be clothed with resurrection life (3:5). And to “the one who conquers” in Laodicea, says Jesus, “I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne” (v. 21). The ones who follow the Lamb to the slaughter will reign with Him in glory.

The book often thought to overturn the ethic of nonviolence is actually its greatest defender. By suffering unto death, believers participate in the suffering power of Christ. John states this plainly in several passages. In one climactic scene, a loud voice in heaven sings out:

Now the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Christ have come, for the accuser of our brothers has been thrown down, who accuses them day and night before our God. And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death. (12:10–11)

The kingdom of God is breaking into history and toppling Satan’s rule because believers “have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony.” They have joined with Jesus in His suffering death by suffering a death of their own. The end of the passage makes the connection clear: “for they loved not their lives even unto death.” By picking up their crosses and following the Lamb wherever He goes, these martyrs participate in the Lamb’s victory over satanic empires.

In another throne-room scene, John sees a large multitude of believers “standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands” (7:9). White robes in Revelation often symbolize the reward given to martyred saints (6:9–11). The same is true of palm branches, which are given to victorious athletes or military heroes—conquerors.31 According to John’s vision, such rewards are reserved for suffering lambs, the “ones coming out of the great tribulation” (i.e., they were killed) who “have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb” (7:14).32 Their martyrdom is the means by which they “conquered the beast and its image,” as John says elsewhere (15:2). They conquered by being conquered.33

This is such a difficult truth for me to swallow. Don’t think that because I’m writing a book on nonviolence that this stuff comes easy. I live in a culture where all forms of suffering are avoided, or at least medicated. I get a headache, and I pop a pill. I get hungry, and I immediately eat. If I feel cold, I put on one of my many coats. If I get tired, I rest. If I catch a cold, I crawl into bed, call in sick, and pop another pill. And if someone even thinks about oppressing me, watch out! I can bench press 250 pounds, and I own several guns. Step on my private property, and you may end up in the hospital or lying in chalk. My culture gives me no categories to view suffering—especially suffering at the hands of an oppressor—as victory. My culture sees suffering only as defeat, as evil. It never sees suffering as a means of victory. This is why I need to read John’s vision about what’s really going on from God’s perspective to correct my American, self-serving, “I will defend my rights at all costs” mind-set. I need to follow the slaughtered Lamb wherever He goes, so that I can reign with Him in victory.

THE WRATH OF THE LAMB

But there’s more. Christians who suffer unto death don’t just conquer Satan. Their blood actually contributes to the judgment God pours out on worldly empires. In a highly symbolic scene, Jesus reaps a harvest of grain, which refers to the salvation of those who confess Christ (14:14–16). This is a familiar image from the Gospels, where the evangelization of the world is compared to a harvest.34 In the very next scene (vv. 17–20), there’s another harvest, only this time it’s a harvest of grapes.

So the angel swung his sickle across the earth and gathered the grape harvest of the earth and threw it into the great winepress of the wrath of God. And the winepress was trodden outside the city, and blood flowed from the winepress, as high as a horse’s bridle, for 1,600 stadia. (vv. 19–20)

Some interpreters have misunderstood this passage, thinking that it refers to Jesus squishing His enemies (the grapes) until an ocean of their blood nearly causes Jesus’s horse to drown. Though this works well with Driscoll’s Jesus, most evangelical scholars do not take this reading seriously. Many would say that the blood is symbolic for judgment. Jesus will judge His enemies. No doubt about that. But He won’t literally mount a mare and trample their bodies.

But let’s look a little closer at those grapes. Are they God’s enemies or His saints? It’s not entirely clear, but there is some good evidence that the blood from the grapes refers to the blood of the saints, which contributes to God’s wrath over those who killed them. In fact, whenever the image of blood occurs in Revelation, it always refers to the blood of Jesus, His followers, or innocent people. God never causes His enemies to bleed in Revelation—literally or symbolically.35 And according to the scene, “the winepress was trodden … and blood flowed” the same place where Jesus bled— “outside the city.” This is the same location where the author of Hebrews tells his readers to suffer with Jesus—outside the city, the place where Jesus cleansed “the people through his own blood” (Heb. 13:12–13).

Blood outside the city. It’s a sacred Christian image for redemptive suffering. Outside the city is where conquerors go to conquer.36

So the grapes that are harvested are the martyrs of Jesus. But why are they thrown “into the great winepress of the wrath of God”? Because their blood turns into God’s wrath poured out on their killers. The martyrs don’t die because of God’s wrath. Rather, their blood (the wine) becomes the very wrath Babylon will drink. God is mixing the wine of His wrath (Rev. 14:10), which will be poured out on the Babylons that oppose Him (16:19).

Now, whether the blood is symbolic of judgment or symbolic of martyrdom leading to judgment doesn’t make a huge difference for my main point. Nowhere are God’s people allowed to act violently in Revelation. In any case, this martyrdom-leading-to-wrath view better fits with what John says over the next few chapters,37 where the blood of the saints becomes the mixed wine of God’s wrath toward His enemies:

For they have shed the blood of saints and prophets,

and you have given them blood to drink.

It is what they deserve! (16:6)

God remembered Babylon the great, to make her drain the cup of the wine of the fury of his wrath. (16:19)

And I saw the woman, drunk with the blood of the saints, the blood of the martyrs of Jesus. (17:6)

Pay her back as she herself has paid back others,

and repay her double for her deeds;

mix a double portion for her in the cup she mixed. (18:6)

And in her was found the blood of prophets and of saints,

and of all who have been slain on earth. (18:24)

He has judged the great prostitute …

and has avenged on her the blood of his servants. (19:2)

All of these passages seem to draw out the meaning of the grape harvest in Revelation 14:17–20. God has stored up the blood of the martyrs in a massive winepress and is thrusting it down the throat of Babylon in seven bowls.38 The persecution of the saints may lead to the salvation of the persecutors.39 Otherwise, it contributes to their righteous judgment. In both cases, there is meaning—rich, theological meaning—in the persecution of saints.

The twentieth century witnessed more Christian martyrs than the previous nineteen centuries combined. And not a single one of them died arbitrarily. Every pool of blood contributed either to the salvation of their enemies or to their wrath. Not a single drop was meaningless.

WRATHFUL NONVIOLENCE

Violence makes no sense to citizens of God’s kingdom. We don’t fight with violence, because we have a more powerful weapon in our hands. It’s called suffering. With it, we can conquer the hard hearts of our enemies. And with it, we condemn unrepentant sinners. Either way, choosing the violent option is not only unchristian, but a rather weak way to fight against evil. Why use an airsoft gun when you have an AK-47 at your disposal (to use an ironic analogy)? It’s impossible for Christians to lose, to be defeated, to be conquered, because the Lamb has already conquered by being slaughtered. Nothing and no one can take away His crown, and therefore nothing can take away our crown. Our enemies can kick us, scourge us, beat us, and crucify us as they did to our Lord. But they cannot win. They cannot defeat the Lamb and His followers. The more they try, the more grapes are thrown into their winepress. And the Lamb will make them drink it.

The book of Revelation does not portray a vindictive, bloodthirsty God. It reveals a God who gives people the fruits of their labor. It reveals the wrathful power of the Lamb who was slain.

Now, all of this helps us to read rightly Revelation 19, the main passage about the second coming of Jesus. Some think that this is where Jesus throws His nonviolence out the window. But it all depends on what we mean by violence. Yes, Jesus returns to judge the world in righteousness. He will pour out His wrath on those who oppose Him. But such wrath is not arbitrarily dished out. God’s wrath is simply handing people the cup they have mixed for themselves. “As she glorified herself and lived in luxury,” cries the angel, “so give her a like measure of torment and mourning” (18:7). When Jesus returns in Revelation 19, we see Him “clothed in a robe dipped in blood” (19:13) before He wages war against the enemy. The blood, therefore, is probably His own. If the blood was His enemies’, it would splatter on His garments after the fight, not before.

And when Jesus defeats the enemy, He does so with a sword. But contrary to Driscoll, the sword comes “from his mouth,” not His hand (19:15, 21). Everywhere in Revelation, when the sword comes from the mouth, it refers to a word of judgment, not a literal sword.40 Jesus doesn’t run a carnival. He doesn’t pull rabbits from His hat or swords from His throat. The sword is symbolic and refers to Jesus’s “death-dealing pronouncement which goes forth like a sharp blade from the lips of Christ.”41 The robe dipped in His own blood (a reference to His crucifixion) gives Jesus the authority to conquer, to boldly announce His victory over His foes. Jesus doesn’t need to hack His way through enemy lines like a crazed warrior. He doesn’t need to do anything but declare with cosmic, cruciform authority that He has already won. The Lamb has conquered!

VIOLENCE IN REVELATION?

Nowhere in Revelation are the followers of Jesus commanded or even allowed to be violent. And even though Jesus carries out vengeance on His enemies, nowhere are His followers called to imitate this.42 We are commanded to be faithful unto death, as Jesus was. We are never commanded to carry out vengeance on our enemies. We are everywhere commanded to accept the Lamb-like suffering that the empire may bring. It is true that believers are called “the armies of heaven” and will accompany Christ at His coming (19:14), but these armies never lift a finger, let alone a sword. Only Jesus fights, and only with His word of judgment. In an earlier scene, the saints are with Jesus when He conquers the beast in 17:14, but they don’t do anything other than bear faithful witness to the point of death.43

Just like Paul says, the weapons of our warfare are not physical. We are armed with the Word of God, the testimony of Christ (Rev. 6:9; 12:11, 17). And such spiritual weaponry has the power to fight the Enemy—the true Enemy, the satanic Enemy who’s empowering all human enemies.

Human violence is never encouraged in Revelation. In fact, violence is explicitly condemned. The satanic beast, not the godly saints, thinks that violence is the means of establishing world peace. The Roman Empire was John’s primary referent behind many of the symbols in the book. And Rome sought to establish and maintain the Pax Romana (peace of Rome) and economic prosperity through violence. This is what the luxurious whore of Babylon riding the beast vividly portrays (17:3–4).44 The barbarians of the north were kept at bay by the sword. The Parthian border to the east was secured by bloodshed. The Pax Romana was secured by violence. But for God, the end (peace) doesn’t justify the means (killing). God condemns Rome, because “in her was found the blood of prophets and of saints, and of all who have been slain on the earth” (18:24). God condemns Rome not just for religious persecution, but for all types of killing.

SLEEPING WITH THE HARLOT?

Studying the book of Revelation has been one of the most paradigm-shifting experiences I’ve had in the last ten years. I’ve known that the Bible talks about suffering. But I’ve never seen how godly suffering has such significance in God’s plan of redemption and judgment. This has revolutionized my thinking, because I don’t like to suffer. But if Jesus’s death, resurrection, and ascension mean anything, then I must let my eyes of faith rather than my pain sensors dictate how I process suffering. I must, like the Moravians, follow Jesus wherever He goes.

Oftentimes we want to overcome evil with more power, more force, more killing. But Revelation shows us the true power of suffering. Jesus dethroned Satan when He suffered. Christians defeat oppressive regimes when they suffer at their hands. Revelation snuffs out the human impulse that thinks violent oppression demands an even stronger violent response. Suffering unto death isn’t just a senseless misfortune that God will redeem but the very means by which God works to defeat evil. Christians who suffer never lose, because Christ has already won.

The book of Revelation has also challenged me to ask a very difficult question: Am I sleeping with Babylon’s harlot? According to John’s vision, the one participating in Babylon is a deceived, naked, dirty, demonized, drunken whore. What’s scary is that you may not even know it. You may think you’re serving Jesus, when all along you are feeding the beast and adding more grapes to God’s winepress.

Such is the case of the churches of Pergamum and Thyatira. They hold fast to Jesus’s name and do not deny the faith. And yet they participate in the idolatry and worldliness of Babylon—and if they don’t repent, Jesus says that He will war against them with the sword of His mouth. The believers at Pergamum think they are sipping choice wine and don’t know it has been mixed with the blood of the innocent.45 Jesus commands them—and all believers entangled in beastly empires—to “come out of her, my people, lest you take part in her sins” (18:4). Be in the world, but not of the world, as John says elsewhere.

This is why I have a hard time with Christians who fail to untangle their faith from American nationalism. The Bible tells us to honor our country, pray for its leaders, and submit to its laws insofar as they don’t conflict with God’s laws. But I fear that many evangelical Christians go much further than this. America has done many good things. So did Rome. But they both do many things that contribute to the shedding of innocent blood.

Here’s just one example. As I was writing this chapter, a young man named Adam Lanza walked into Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut, and gunned down twenty-six people, including twenty children. The Newtown massacre produced a wave of rage, confusion, and disgust across America. And it reached Washington, DC. Three days after the event, President Obama visited Newtown to mourn the tragedy and comfort the many friends and family whose suffering will continue for years. We will use “whatever power” is in our hands, declared Obama, to stop such massacres from happening again.

As a parent of four children, I mourned this tragedy. I fear that one day I might wake up to that phone call: “Sir, I’m sorry to tell you this, but you need to come down here because …” Ugh. I can’t imagine! My heart goes out to those who are suffering from this horrific evil.

But there’s a bit of irony in Obama’s outrage.

As I was googling around to find updates on the killing, I typed in “children killed in …” and before I could tap my keyboard, I was struck by the next thing that automatically popped up. It wasn’t Connecticut, it wasn’t Newtown, and it wasn’t school. The next words that popped up were drone strikes. I was instantly reminded of the horrors of killing children—both in America and abroad.

Drones are unmanned aerial combat vehicles. Or in layperson’s terms, they are flying robots armed to the teeth with rockets and controlled by a pilot with a joystick in Missouri. They’ve been used in Afghanistan, Iraq, Pakistan, and elsewhere in the Middle East. The genius of drone strikes is that they can kill bad guys without any threat of losing American lives. And Obama has been a major advocate of drone strikes. In one sense, they have been a remarkable success. According to one study, since Obama took office there have been over three hundred drone strikes in the Middle East, resulting in over 2,500 deaths.

But who are these 2,500? Terrorists, no doubt! Unfortunately, this is not the case. According to one Pakistani report, 50 civilians are killed for every terrorist.46 Another report says that of the 1,658 to 2,597 killed in drone strikes, 282 and 535 were civilians (that’s between 10 and 32 percent).47 The CIA, however, says that it has killed over 600 militants in drone strikes and not a single civilian has died.48 Pakistani reports will most probably inflate the numbers, and the CIA will probably reduce them. But even if we take a mediating position and say that 25 civilians are killed for every terrorist—that’s a lot of civilian deaths. The number that I keep seeing from several different sources—including horrifying pictures—is that there have been 168 children blown up in drone strikes since Obama took office.49 If this happened on American soil, we’d call it terrorism. It did happen in Connecticut, and we called it murder. Yet few Americans are outraged over the killing of these innocent children in the Middle East.

“We can’t tolerate this anymore,” mourned Obama during his speech at Sandy Hook Elementary. “These tragedies must end. … If there is even one step we can take to save another child, or another parent, or another town, from the grief that has visited Tucson, and Aurora, and Oak Creek, and Newtown, and communities from Columbine to Blacksburg before that—then surely we have an obligation to try.”50

I appreciate Obama’s concern, but I find it ironic. Can we extend his sympathy to the Middle East? Are the deaths of 168 incinerated children any less a tragedy than the massacre at Newtown? Or does their color, ethnicity, and religion justify their deaths? Better their kids than ours, said Time magazine’s Joe Klein.51

I mourn both tragedies—the death of innocent, beautiful children in Connecticut and of the precious children in the Middle East. Both tragedies are evil. Both will be vindicated. Both will be judged. I also mourn the hypocrisy of the millions of Americans who endorse a military tactic that spares American soldiers at the cost of foreign children. “In her was found the blood … of all who have been slain on earth,” cries the angel in John’s vision (Rev. 18:24). I fear that the whore of Babylon might not live across the pond.

So what should the church do? Again, pray for our leaders; honor the state; submit to the government insofar as it doesn’t lead us to commit treason against our Lord. But let us not be seduced into thinking that America is the hope of the world, the keeper of peace, the symbol of all that is good. All nations have blood on their hands. And the Lamb will make them drink it.

NOTES

1. Friedrich Nietzsche, quoted in Richard Hays, The Moral Vision of the New Testament (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2004), 169.

2. James Carroll, Jerusalem, Jerusalem (New York: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2011), 45.

3. Shaw’s comment is well-known and cited in many sources.

4. Bill Barrick, “The Christian and War,” TMSJ 11 (2000), 225.

5. John MacArthur, Revelation 12–22 (Chicago: Moody, 2000), 117, 118.

6. Mark Driscoll, “7 Big Questions: 7 Leaders on Where the Church Is Headed,” Relevant, Issue 24, Jan/Feb 2007, http://web.archive.org/web/20071013102203/http://relevantmagazine.com/god_article.php?id=7418 (accessed March 23, 2013).

7. Hays, The Moral Vision of the New Testament, 173.

8. Rev. 2:9–10, 13; 3:8–10

9. Rev. 2:20; 3:17

10. Rev. 2:7, 11, 17, 26–29; 3:5–6, 12–13, 21–22

11. Richard Bauckham, Climax of Prophecy (London: T&T Clark, 2000), 234.

12. Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 89.

13. Bruce Metzger, Breaking the Code (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1993), 88.

14. See Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation, 93–94; Kraybill, “What about the Warrior Jesus?,” Tripp York and Justin Bronson Barringer, eds., A Faith Not Worth Fighting For (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2012), 201.

15. Rev. 4–5 and 12–14

16. Rev 18; 21–22

17. Rev. 12:1; 17:4; 18:16

18. Rev. 4–5; 16:10; 20:11

19. Rev. 7:3–4; 13:16–18; 14:1

20. E.g., Rev. 11:7; 12:7–8, 17; 13:7 (Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation, 69).

21. E.g., Homer, Iliad, 3.138, 255; 23.702; Homeric Hymn to Ares; 1 Macc. 3:19; 2 Macc. 10:38

22. The word conquer is used twice of Christ (Rev. 5:5; 17:14), twice of the beast (11:7; 13:7), and ten times of the saints (2:7, 11, 17, 26; 3:5, 12, 21; 12:11; 15:2; 21:7). Lastly, in 6:2 it is debated whether it refers to Christ. The many reasons against its referring to Christ are convincing (see G. B. Caird, The Revelation of St. John the Divine [New York: Harper & Row, 1966], 80–81).

23. Cf. John 16:33; Col. 2:15; Rom. 8:37; 2 Cor. 2:14

24. See Greg Boyd’s take on Driscoll: “Revelation and the Violent ‘Prize Fighting’ Jesus,” ReKnew, September 28, 2010, http://reknew.org/2010/09/revelation-and-the-violent-prize-fighting-jesus/.

25. Gen. 49:9–10; cf. 1 Macc. 3:4

26. Hays, The Moral Vision of the New Testament, 174.

27. Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation, 74; Gorman, Reading Revelation Responsibly, 108–112.

28. Rev. 3:21; 12:10–12; 17:14; 19:13, 20; cf. John 12:31; 1 Cor. 1:18–25; Col. 2:15

29. E.g., Rev. 12:11; 15:2; 21:7

30. Rev. 11:7; 13:2, 7

31. Gordon Fee, Revelation (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock Publishers, 2010), 111–112; Caird, Revelation of St. John, 101; David Aune, Word Biblical Commentary, Vol. 52B: Revelation 6–16 (Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1998), 468–470; N. T. Wright, Revelation for Everyone (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011), 74.

32. Wright, Revelation for Everyone, 70; Aune, Revelation 6–16, 474.

33. Rev. 11:7; 13:7

34. Matt. 9:36–38; Luke 10:2; cf. Mark 4:29

35. Blood of Christ (Rev. 1:5; 5:9; 7:14; 12:11; 16:6; 19:13); blood of the saints (6:10; 14:20; 16:6; 17:6; 18:24; blood of the innocent (18:24). Seas and rivers also turn to blood throughout Revelation (6:12; 8:7, 8; 11:6; 16:3, 4). Nowhere does “blood” in Revelation refer to the blood of Jesus’s slaughtered enemies.

36. See Wright, Revelation for Everyone, 134–135.

37. Those who agree with my reading include Caird, Revelation of St. John, 192–94; Wright, Revelation for Everyone, 133–135; and Peter J. Leithart, Between Babel and Beast: America and Empires in Biblical Perspective (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2012), 45–47. Those who identify the blood with Jesus’s enemies include G. K. Beale, NIGTC: The Book of Revelation (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1998), 782–83; Alan F. Johnson, The Expositor’s Bible Commentary with the New International Version: Revelation (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1996), 543.

38. Rev. 15:7; 16:1, 19

39. This is what the grain harvest seems to suggest. See Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation, 94–98.

40. Rev. 1:16; 2:12, 16; cf. John 12:48; 2 Thess. 2:8; Heb. 4:12

41. Robert H. Mounce, The Book of Revelation (NICNT) (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1997), 346; cf. 2 Thess. 2:8; Pss. Sol. 17:39; 1 En. 62:2.

42. Rev. 6:16; 19:21; cf. 2 Thess. 1:6–9; 2:8

43. Cf. Rev. 1:9; 12:11, 17; 13:10; 14:12–13. The only passage that could be taken to refer to saints physically fighting against their enemies is Rev. 2:26–27. Here, Jesus promises that “the one who conquers … will rule them [the nations] with a rod of iron, as when earthen pots are broken in pieces.” Jesus here quotes from Ps. 2, one of many Old Testament passages that depict a conquering Messiah. But how will He (and His followers) conquer? The rest of Revelation tells us. The basic point of Rev. 2, then, is that believers will rule with Jesus in His kingdom, as often stated in the New Testament (2 Tim. 2:12; Eph. 2:6–7). The image of “ruling” the nations shows how the hopes of Ps. 2 are fulfilled by the judicial word of Christ, just as the hopes for a militaristic messianic conqueror are fulfilled unexpectedly in a slain Lamb.

44. Bauckham, Climax of Prophecy, 349; See also Wright, Revelation for Everyone, 152.

45. Rev. 18:24; cf. 2:18–23

46. David Kilcullen and Andrew McDonald, “Death from Above, Outrage Down Below,” New York Times, May 16, 2009, http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/17/opinion/17exum.html?_r=3.

47. Chris Woods and Christina Lamb, “Obama Terror Drones: CIA Tactics in Pakistan Include Targeting Rescuers and Funerals,” The Bureau of Investigative Journalism, February 4, 2012, http://www.thebureauinvestigates.com/2012/02/04/obama-terror-drones-cia-tactics-in-pakistan-include-targeting-rescuers-and-funerals/.

48. Scott Shane, “C.I.A. Is Disputed on Civilian Toll in Drone Strikes,” New York Times, August 11, 2011, http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/12/world/asia/12drones.html?_r=1.

49. This number is confirmed by several diverse reports. See for instance, Rob Crilly, “168 Children Killed in Drone Strikes in Pakistan Since Start of Campaign,” Telegraph, August 11, 2011, http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/asia/pakistan/8695679/168-children-killed-in-drone-strikes-in-Pakistan-since-start-of-campaign.html.

50. Christina Bellantoni and Terence Burlij, “Obama: Nation Must Answer ‘Hard Questions,’” PBS NewsHour: The Rundown, December 17, 2012, http://www.pbs.org/newshour/rundown/2012/12/obama-in-connecticut-nation-must-answer-hard-questions.html.

51. Glenn Greenwald, “Joe Klein’s Sociopathic Defense of Drone Killings of Children,” Telegraph, October 23, 2012, http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2012/oct/23/klein-drones-morning-joe.